Of Course, Something Else

After all was said and done about knowing what my rank list will be, I was hit with a major obstacle. I showed the presumptive list to Wife, after we had talked about the locations of my top 3-4 programs a week earlier, and she calmly stated that, wait for it…she wouldn’t move to my 3rd choice.

Of course I was rational about the whole event – not. You see, I’ve tried to keep her involved in this decision, let her know where I was thinking about applying, and asked her opinions of the cities and overall locations where we’d potentially be moving. A few cities where I had wanted to apply were lost in this process and I proceeded to interview with the assumption that, despite not wanting to move, she’d be OK with where we ended up.

The other notion that ran through my head was an absolutely selfish one: I’ve sacrificed 7 years for her to be near Stepson, lost a year of undergrad, gained $15,000 in out-of-state debt, and was forced to only interview at 2 medical schools (of which only one actually interviewed and accepted me). I’ve done a lot for her and this was my training: 4 years to become an Anesthesiologist, board certified and all. I felt that, given the fact that I’ve put up with 4 years of bad experiences at my medical school with feelings that I might have been happier at another location, I should be able to rank programs based on where I feel I’d receive the best training.

Selfish.

This argument eventually ended up in discussions by her about going separate ways. Wife feels we’re not on the same path anymore – and all because I got upset about one program. Now, don’t worry too much at this point – she brings this idea up every now and then when we have a heated argument. However, I feel somewhat betrayed at the suggestion that I just went about “interviewing all over without talking to me”.

I felt I had taken a great deal of steps to try and avoid this problem – only to have her start 2nd guessing the whole notion of moving. So now I feel that, unless we end up in the program we both want as our primary choice, she’ll decided that it’s not worth it and stay here.

There is a burden I’ve carried for a while now – the idea that she has sacrificed her aspirations for this process. I also worry about where we’ll end up because Stepson will not be coming with us if we move. I’ve spent more time at home, trying to be helpful in order to assuage these concerns, but I’m getting sick and tired of feeling like I’m the bad guy in this situation. It sucks, yes, but I honestly feel that I attempted to keep her involved throughout.

So I’ll move the program low on the list (despite being an outstanding place) and try to patch things up later today. But you know, residency is not going to be easy – anywhere.

Ready or Not

During my breaks from taking exams and reading I’ve been trying to get my profile and information onto ERAS (electronic residency application service). A sense of fear and excitement has developed within me as I realize that I’ve graduated from simply listening to others talk about what to do, to actually trying to remember what’s been advocated and doing it in order to match where I want.

A year from now I’m going to be a doctor, with a real job, taking care of real patients (seriously?) in some area of the US. That’s fucking terrifying. I have no idea where that will be, what the circumstances will entail, if our family will be together (Stepson will not be coming if we move), or whether anything that I know now will be the same. It’s frightening to consider the complete turn-around our lives might take in a just a few months and a conversation with Wife confirmed this.

She called me this week to ask whether she should buy shorts and tee-shirts for Daughter for next summer. The convo went something like this:

MSG: “Why not?”

Wife: “Because summer in [colder climate states] is not what it is here. 70 degrees is not shorts-wearing weather.”

MSG: “Oh…(puzzling look on face)…I hadn’t thought about that. Damn.”

Wife: “So? Should I get them or not. What do you think?”

MSG: “Get them. I honestly don’t think we’ll be moving out there anyways – it’s kinda a long shot and I most likely won’t rank them more than 3rd...I think. Yeah...get them.”

Wife: “Ok, love you, bye.”

The fact that we have to discuss whether we can even buy clothing for next summer is ridiculous, but necessary. We’ve looked at housing, schools, jobs, etc. in these areas while trying to determine where the best fit lies. Our lives revolve around my training and results of a computer-based lottery system - absolutely fantastic and sickening at the same time.

I'm ready for the change, but the complete lack of stability kills me. After all, we've lived here for almost 8 years and have some support systems developed despite the lack of family. The thought of moving to a place where we don't know anyone again and have no support system - lord.

Paranoid

After receiving a few comments regarding my last Wife Speak post I grew rather paranoid. What if Wife does read this (unlikely, but still)? What if she were to find out about this blog and read it? It just made me nervous especially with some of the comments being left, so I decided that I would delete the last post entirely. It was kinda mean anyway which was not something I was meaning to convey. We're just having a rough patch again and that came out harsher than I'd intended. If I decide to continue the Wife Speak it will be funny sayings that demean me and not a means to get something off my chest.

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Weekday Update (cheesy I know): My Kaplan questions have improved fairly well and I'm feeling a lot better about my test date. I might move it a week up just to avoid losing some brain power while on my first week of Anesthesiology rotation (hurrah!), but like you care. I added the Step 2 CK update on the side of this blog in case you wonder how it's going. I've stopped contemplating suicide at this point which is a fairly good thing.

On another, completely off-topic topic, first year medical students stink. Sorry, but they do. They're not even in full-blown anatomy mode yet and already they have procured the stink of cadavers. Nasty little freshies. I wonder if there's ever been studies conducted on the decline in personal relationships during the first semester of medical school. Apart from the long hours and adjustment disorders that develop I imagine the ever present smell in a loved one's hair/ clothing/ skin would put a halt on any budding relationship. Thankfully I was married so I didn't experience too much of that.

I think Sparky, my kid's fish, is going to die today. He's not looking too good right now. We received him as a gift from Wife's supervisor after we tended her Betta for a week and a half. Sparky is a red Betta we've had for a couple weeks and he's been doing rather well up till yesterday. I changed his water last night, but he was acting funky. He wouldn't eat and this morning had the distinct look of a fish about to end this world. He swims down to the bottom of the bowl like he's lost or will just hover on the side without moving. Sometimes he atually starts to turn sideways, like he's going belly-up.

Daughter told me that he was "stuck". I think he's dying. I hope not, but he's not eaten at all since yesterday morning and is just acting funky. I may need to buy a replacement quickly.

Wife Sayings I

I think I'm going to write down some of the little sayings that Wife hits me with every now and then - mostly when I'm studying a lot or away from the house more than usual. So, here's the first installment:

Late last night I headed down to the apartment work-out room to get in some much needed exercise (I’d missed 3 days in a row after being so good for 3 months and felt terrible about it). Upon entering the building I was instantly floored with very hot, humid, and foul smelling air. The air conditioner was apparently not working and the bathrooms (most likely the mens - why can't guys flush a damn urinal?) emanated the lovely sickly-sweet smell of hot urine. Lovely.

However, this did not deter me. I was driven to get in at least 45 minutes and proceeded to do so and more. I almost quit when, drenched with sweat from head to toe, the water cooler was out of cups and the drinking fountain’s cooling mechanism was apparently also on the fritz, giving me hot nasty water for a refreshing drink. But I persisted.

Afterwards I told Wife about the experience and how miserable I was since I’m more prone to sweating here in the damn South. Her reply?

Snarkly: “Well, no one forced you to stay there!”

Tough love.