I MATCHED!!!

Into what specialty do you match the girl who loves everything?

RURAL FAMILY MEDICINE!!!

I felt that this post needed to be written today. So despite the fact that I am running on 1.5 hrs of sleep and am still trying to grasp the outcome of yesterday's events, I wanted to update the blogosphere. 

The last few weeks seemed to drag on with painful anticipation. I spent many sleepless nights trying to sort out how to rank, and trying to decide what I truly wanted to be. After I submitted my list to CaRMS I started really doubting my list order. I mean, really started doubting. I had what can only be described as pseudo-panic attacks where I would go around and around in my head all the possible outcomes of the match. What would make me happy now? In 5 years? In 10 years? What was going to be able to give me the life that I wanted outside of work? What could provide me with the chance to write, maybe do some more work for CBC, travel, have flexibility, allow me to keep my athletic pursuits up, and also just enjoy big and small adventures with Duncan (I know, I know...I am introducing this character late in the game but he deserves his own post later). I've been wrestling with my first love (emergency medicine) and my new love (obstetrics) and trying to decide which of the two I wanted to do. Then I would be in clinic and see a few kids and think, "But...peds! I LOVE PEDS TOO!" or I'd meet the most fly 87 y.o lady who'd reinforce my hope for aging awesomely and I would mourn the loss of elderly patients. Also? It turns out I really enjoy continuity of care in my life. It just brings a whole other layer to job satisfaction for me.

I know, could the writing on the wall have been any more obvious?! I love getting off the beaten track, away from throbbing mega-hospitals and being somewhere that I know the radiographer's names as well as the name of the woman who serves the casseroles in the cafeteria. I don't want to live somewhere that people look at your handbag, not your face when they see you in the street. I don't want to take a subway to work or require reservations every time I go out. I am a country girl who loves country medicine. I don't know why it took me so long to come back to that, and accept it! 

So when I saw that I matched in rural family medicine, I thought..."Of course!!!" But I've forgiven myself for not knowing this a long time ago. I allowed myself to contemplate other areas of medical specialization to the furthest degree. When I said that I was going to just experience medical school and see what I liked, without preconceived ideas, I DID that. And this is where I ended up. It feels very full circle-ish to me. Now I get to do everything! Peds, obs, emerg, women's health, sports medicine, chronic disease management, surgical assist, palliative, hospitalist and down home family medicine. 

Some weird and wonderful things that have crossed my mind in the last day. 

I matched in the first program that I interviewed at. I adored the program, the people, the location. But I was guarded and wondered if part of my swoon was attributable to the fact that I was fresh and excited about interviews. I mean, initially I was so delighted with the place that I thought about not going to any other interviews. But then realised that would be a ridiculously bad idea for someone like me (a lowly IMG). I kept going back and comparing each subsequent program with that first one. Wondering.

When I was driving into the town (where I ended up matching) I came to a bridge and had a very strong sense that I would end up crossing this bridge a thousand times. I loved the look of it, I think partly because it reminded me of a bridge near my house where I grew up in Alberta. It was one of the few photos that I took during those two weeks of interviews, but it is my favorite. Looking at it, I can remember exactly that sense of predicted familiarity and how my heart had already started to feel tied to the place. It was strangely powerful and most unexpected.

Then last week, I had a dream that I matched to my program. In my dream I was shrieking and celebrating and telling myself that this was the perfect thing, and that I was so happy with the way things worked out. Of course when I woke up I felt the stress and worry creep back in as consciousness returned. The dream had been so vivid. That was where I wanted to go. What if I matched somewhere else?

I recently started on a new rotation with a congenial, fiercely intelligent, slightly quirky, banjo-playing dermatologist. When we met he asked what specialties I had interviewed for while I was in Canada. I told him, but I didn't say where in Canada any of these programs were. I told him about my previous life as a nurse in Nunavut and the NWT. A little while later he was introducing me to a patient and said, "This is ABB, she is going to be a family doctor in northern Saskatchewan". Now, again I will say that I hadn't told him where I was interviewing, and I have yet to find many Irish people who can even pronounce "Saskatchewan" let alone use it in a sentence. I mean, most Irish people know Ontario because their cousins always live in Toronto, and they've all been to Niagara Falls. Funny because it is true. So the comment from Dr. R threw me a little, but I didn't say anything to him about it, I just made a mental note. Innnterrrrresting. 

And now I am here. A little like a dog spinning around before he lies down. I still haven't fully grasped that the uncertainty, that has been hanging over me since I started on this journey over 5 years ago, has lifted.

I have a job as a doctor in Canada.

Let me just say that again on the off-chance that it sinks in.

I have a job as a doctor in Canada.

And it is a bloody good thing (as I am ~$250 000 in debt!) And an exciting thing. I am beyond grateful and excited to start on July 1st. I feel like I've been in the starting blocks for years. As a nurse I hoped some day I would become a doctor, and then as a medical student I had to deal with being slightly taken away from direct patient care. Mostly watching others do the nursing and doctoring. I've been striving, waiting, chomping at the bit for this responsibility.

This past week especially I've had a most distractible mind. My normal regime of night-before ironed work clothes, packed lunches and leisurely breakfasts has disintegrated to eating dry cereal and turning my underwear inside out instead of finding time for laundry...

But tonight I eased myself back into life. I cooked a delicious pot of veggie chilli, did loads of laundry, and sat down to write this post. The lack of sleep last night is catching up with me but I am happy.

It seems I've gradually started living my way into the answers. I cannot believe that I can actually say,

"I am going to be a rural GP!"

At the risk of extending this stream-of-ramblingness any more I just want to also say that over the years this blog has given me a great outlet and a wonderful connection to people all over the world. Even when I've felt like a tiny medical student, hidden away in a dark study room for weeks at a time, I felt connected to the people that read and commented, or took the time to write. I have made great friends and kept in touch with old ones through Asystole and I feel like it has given me many gifts on this wild ride.

And so writing this post for those of you that have been following along, gives me so much pleasure! Thank you all for the words of encouragement, advice, offer of cars, couches, lifts from the airport...for mailing forgotten bathing suits, buying me giant soup pots, sending mugs, meeting me at airports, buying me lunch and even the odd train ticket.

Expect the unexpected. Or maybe what was right in front of you the whole time.

3 is better than 2

Woke up this morning, still feeling hellish from the apparent TB* that I caught before coming home from Ireland.

It was my usual routine of

1. regain consciousness
2. realize where I am on the planet
3. worry about having a job on July 1st
4. hit 'refresh' on my phone to see if any emails have come through.

BAAAAAZIIIIIINNNNNNGGGGGGG!!!

Let me tell you, after all the rejection emails I received when applying to medical school in Canada, seeing the subject heading "Invitation for Interview" is a sweetness I can't even describe.

Without taming the Medusa-like mane, or smoothing out the red flannel pajamas, or brushing my teeth, I walked up the stairs into my sister's kitchen, phone held high in the air. My brother in law saw the rising iphone and said,

"Ooooooohhhhh!!!! I THINK WE'VE GOT ANOTHER INTERVIEW!!!!!!"

Cue familial happy dance.

--
UPDATE: Just received 2 rejection letters. Sigh. Keeping me honest, I suppose.

*I didn't actually catch TB. I just have a horrendous respiratory tract infection which I cannot seem to shake, though no night sweats, weight loss, or hemoptysis (for the record). 

And then there were TWO!!

Today while walking through West Edmonton Mall, trying to replace my burned in housefire ski pants, I checked my email .

ANOTHER INVITATION TO INTERVIEW!!!

I nearly cried in the mall. Then I nearly jumped up and down. Then I nearly hugged a random elderly couple who were eating ice cream. Then I tried to send 7 texts all at once.

It's big people. Big. I am over the moon.

These are some exciting times!

FIRST INTERVIEW!!!

Nope! I am not afraid to use the oldest meme on the internet to display exactly how I feel!

Yes, I do believe I have the right to put that title in all caps.

Of course, I've been compulsively hitting 'refresh' on my emails since Thursday which is when some of the IMG programs were rumored to start sending offers/rejection letters out. Last night my mom and I were babysitting my brother's three little ones so I was distracted with the chaos until after their swimming lesson. As soon as they all fell into an "Ice Age" induced trance and I was able to check my email again.

Et voila!! My first offer!!

I screeched, jumped up and down, did some clapping, fist pumping, and then ran into the living room to 4 stunned sets of eyes. Of course my mom was over the moon, but the little-ies just looked up at me from their warm milk like I had completely lost the plot. My niece asking me, "are you a doctor yet?" Um, no....but it looks like I might actually get to be one soon!!

Waiting

Time...goes...by...so....slowly! So...slowly!

Hey, so have I mentioned that 'tis the season of CaRMS, interview offers, interviews? Yes, OK, probably once or twice.

Whaaaaattttt? You are tired of seeing the word CaRMS?

Believe me, so am I. My apologies. It is just that right now, whenever the constant chatter in my brain stops to take a breath, the word CARMS appears and I descend into one of my thought spirals of:

what if I don't get any interviews?

what if I get loads of interviews for jobs I really want?

what if I have interviews during my surgery elective in Ontario?

what if I don't get a job next year in Canada or Ireland?

how am I going to start paying off my suffocating debt?

am I going to work as a nurse next year?

do these flannel Christmas pajamas make my bum look big?

and so on... 

Ack! Waiting!!! 

“...of all the hardships a person had to face none was more punishing than the simple act of waiting.” -Hosseini

The Burden of Work

As I plod through drop down menus and hustle reference letters, I try to remind myself that I am thankful to have the burden of CaRMS. 5 years ago when I started the process of summer school organic chemistry courses I didn't even know if this day would ever arrive. But here I am, gathering all the little stones and jewels of experience from the last ten years, shining and presenting them for various selection committees, hoping to catch the eye and interest of some program director.

Obviously my thoughts are overrun with pre-exam stress (my Canadian board exam is a week from tomorrow) and the uncertainty of my future, but I am trying to stay positive and focus on one day at a time living.

And I reminded myself of what Kahlil Gibran writes about Work, and use that to keep it all in perspective.

Always you have been told that work is a curse and labor a misfortune.
But I say to you that when you work you fulfill a part of earth's furthest dream, assigned to you when that dream was born,
And in keeping yourself with labor you are in truth loving life,
And to love life through labor is to be intimate with life's inmost secret.

But if you in your pain call birth an affliction and the support of the flesh a curse written upon your brow, then I answer that naught but the sweat of your brow shall wash away that which is written...

...Work is love made visible.
And if you cannot work with love but only with distaste, it is better that you should leave your work and sit at the gate of the temple and take alms of those who work with joy.
For if you bake bread with indifference, you bake a bitter bread that feeds but half man's hunger.
And if you grudge the crushing of the grapes, your grudge distils a poison in the wine.
And if you sing though as angels, and love not the singing, you muffle man's ears to the voices of the day and the voices of the night.

Paging Doctor Blackbear

So the last week at work involved a couple of milestones. I am so sleep deprived right now that I can only think of one (thanks to two 6am shifts starts, Ryan's recent surprise 40th birthday keg party, and 11h of driving in the last 4 days).

My attending asked me to page the neuro team for one of our patients and I mentally froze. Lowly medical students do not consult with other teams in Ireland. What amount of detail should I go into? How much history do they want? Is it like a geriatric consult where you have to mention how many pets they have and if they can still drive themselves to get groceries? Or is it like a surgical consult where you say there is a fracture, please fix it?

I told the unit clerk my name (Albino) and asked her to page the neuro team for me. 

A few minutes later I was assessing another patient when "Dr. Blackbear please pick up line 70770 for neurology, Doctor Blackbear" came over the PA . At first I was reflexively tuning out the sound of the announcement as it crackled into the room. Then I realized the call was for me! Yes, the title wasn't accurate but I have to admit it briefly made my stomach flutter with excitement. I know it sounds cheesy but I've been ignoring that interruption while in hospital for the last 12 years. It hit me that sooner rather than later I would actually be Doctor Blackbear! It is quite an exciting (and frightening) prospect.

Most days this journey feels so long that I almost forget that at some point the tuition payments end, the paychecks and different responsibilities begin, and new goals appear on the horizon. Hearing my name paged overhead was a jolt of reality: in a year from now I won't be able to ignore those calls and the next chapter will be beginning.

Excited!!!

Operation Smile

I walked out of my final short case exam on Friday with a cryptic text from an unknown number simply stating "please call S____". Still buzzing with adrenaline and excitement at being done I dialed the number, worried that something was wrong, perhaps with someone I knew.

"Hello, this is ABB, I received a message to call."


"Yes, hello ABB, are you finished your exams?"

The slight worry ratcheted up one degree.

"Yes..."

"Oh good. Well I can congratulate you on that and something else as well...you've been selected as the recipient of the Operation Smile medical student fellowship!"

[Cue exhilaration and dress wearing suppression of cartwheels on sidewalk].

I think I then said the words delighted and thank you about 17 times. She added that the competition was stiff but they thought that I'd had some amazing life experiences and that the organization wanted to add to that list for me. Which I thought was such a lovely thing to say.

Of course I am honored (and surprised nearly beyond belief) that I was chosen. Being unable to take on international electives or sign up for volunteer work since starting medical school has been difficult, especially after getting a taste for it on my Himalayan expedition in 2008. I've been having to bide my time and just look forward to future opportunities much further down the line. But now, I won't be waiting long at all!

This is such a gift for me, and I am fully aware of the fact that it is the chance of a lifetime. According to their website they receive thousands of inquiries a year from medical students, for only about 20 available positions. I. Can't. Wait.

Still don't know when or where, but will be keeping the blog updated as things unfold. I still can't believe that third year ended on such a high note, especially after the last few months. And so, back to packing boxes. Smiling.

Image from http://www.operationsmile.org/

[Incidentally, you can donate to Operation Smile any time!]

I (Heart) Rural Medicine

In the last 48h have included having the opportunity to:

-catch a baby
-cut a piece of glass out of someone's face (and then stitch them up afterward)
-surgically assist with fusing toes, replacing hips, replacing knees
-perform a D&C
-assist with a hysterectomy
-sew up knife wounds
-assess / treat / discharge about 75 emergency patients
-learn how to insert an IUD

Despite the exceedingly damp climate my hands are cracking from so much handwashing, I'm surviving solely on t.v. dinners and instant soups, clean underwear is becoming a scarce commodity, and I've spent every day (except one) in the hospital since my arrival. And I couldn't be happier.

My days are so full and varied, with such fantastic teaching from the docs here. It's hard to sleep at night, completely wired and excited by each day's events. I feel so fortunate to be here. I'm starting to believe that saying about how "there are teaching hospitals and then there are learning hospitals". Say what you will about rural medicine...but my experience is that people working in remote areas have half the egos and double the desire to teach.

I've been spending a lot of my retractor-holding and trying-to-sleep time thinking about the (soon arriving) residency application process. Today I truly felt like a few things have started to crystallize in my mind about what I want to pursue...

As always it is a work in progress, but I think that will have to be a post for another day.

In the meantime, check out my new O.R clogs while I try to get some well deserved sleep.

Yes, yes I did.

Racing: The Irish Way

 

A few weeks back I convinced my brotha-from-anotha-motha, Ryan, to run this 10 mile race. So he signed up. 

I balked. He trash-talked. I registered. I regretted.

It was actually pretty fun.

The drive there was an adventure, at one point the GPS (who I've named Dunce Cap or D.C for short) even got lost, telling us to turn left but mapping us to the right and then getting all hissy when I went left. I really want to throw that thing in the majestic river Shannon most days.  Though the road (pictured above) was scary and narrow, the directions were typically Irish ('after a long bend in the road take a left and follow that road') we somehow found the place. I had a moment of anxiety the night before when I realised that doing a race in the middle of February is actually a really bad idea. You see, it is too soon for there to be any resolutionists (as I like to call them). No one decides on Jan 1st to do a race 6 weeks later. Most would think it is not enough time to train for a medium distance run. And this race, in particular, is known as the 'most challenging 10 mile race in the country'. I'm not sure about this claim as it is possible that it is the only 10 mile race in the country. So, the folks running an ass-buster in Feb are likely going to be really in shape, doing it as a fun day out as they prepare for their next big race somewhere else. 

Oh I so called it. As we pulled up we could see a blur of lyrca stretching and light-jogging up the first hill.  Formidable specimens, they were. I could see the outline of their vastus mediali  from the parking lot (which, by the way, was a farmers driveway, complete with fowl and swingsets, pictured above).

This is what happens when you set a camera timer and try to look tough.

The weather was outstanding. It was indeed a challenging race with loads of hills. But both Ryan and I were happy with our times (Ryan had hoped to do it in 1:30 despite the elevation and he finished in 1:19)! I was hoping to finish under 2 hours since I haven't really been distance running since....oh....2008! But I managed to pull a 1:32 out which isn't exactly olympic qualifying time, but it got the job done. And I was pleased. And apparently haggard.

Hello, beauty.

After the race I drove home, grabbed some food, water, bathing suit, and towel, and headed to the icy Atlantic nearby. My car thermometer read 7 degrees yet somehow I managed to strip off my many layers and plunge in. I am a firm believer in the ice bath. It had to be done and I figured a sunset dip in the ocean would be better than the view from my bathtub.

Turns out, I was right. Shortly after my dip the clouds rolled into this amazing formation that nearly took my mind off the fact that every cell in my body was shivering. I sat in my car, cranked the heat on (sorry environment, it had to be done for a few minutes) and ate my picnic supper. I made a mental note regarding what a lovely date I'd taken myself on, and deciding that yes indeed I would go out with myself again. Once the beach was dark I drove to the gym and vegged out in the sauna and decided that life was pretty much all I ever hoped it'd be. Oh Ireland, I really (heart) you sometimes.

Surgical Field Trip

Headed for the hills today for a surgical assist field trip. M.C took me with him to the wild and wooly west coast for an operating theater day in one of the remote hospitals.

I have Monday's off (from GP) but was more than happy to spring out of bed at 0545h, knowing that I'd have the chance to be first assist and 'camera woman' for all the cases today.

And indeed, it was well worth it. Worked a lot on my sub-cue suturing skills and scope handling. Lots of neck craning and nervous sweat. So. Much. Fun.

I really cannot pretend to be aloof about this whole surgery thing. Pretty soon I'll stop sheepishly mumbling and toeing the floor when people ask me what I want to be when I grow up. Not today, but pretty soon.

Why You Don't Want to be an IMG*

Here is a little taste of how you are treated by Canadian universities--below is a timeline of correspondences that started last August when I was offered an elective (by the head of the department) for four weeks this summer. 

Anytime I'd email the hospital staff I'd get prompt, professional replies. When I'd email a question to the university in charge of overseeing this elective every reply started like this (I am the one who put things in bold):

The &*& Visiting Elective Office will not accept any email registrations until after February 1st, 2012 for April 2012 onwards.  I will not be keeping  a copy of this email so please email again on or after Feb 1, 2012 to officially register for this elective. 

(This in reply to a question regarding police record checks--i.e. do I need one from Ireland or from Canada or from both?)

Visiting student applications for the clerkship year April 09, 2012 – February 28, 2013 can only be considered after February 1, 2012. (There are no visiting electives between Feb 27 - April 08, 2012.) Please get in touch with me again at that time and I will provide you with department contact information. Thank you for your understanding.

  

That was a little annoying. But I rolled with it.

When the hospital coordinator emailed my offer and dates to the university a few days before Feb 1st the reply came to me:

 I will not be keeping  a copy of this email so please email again on or after Feb 1, 2012 with the department confirmation (email below from *&* is fine) to officially register for this elective.

So that was a little frustrating. But I just chalked it up to normal university proceedings and waited for the magical day that I could send my offer of elective email....again. 

Feb 1st rolls around. I send in my offer letter. Hear nothing for two days and then get...

Visiting student applications for the clerkship year April 09, 2012 – February 28, 2013 could only be considered after February 1, 2012. Once the mandatory rotation schedules for the next class had been distributed to the departments. As such applications for visiting electives opened Feb 1, 2012.

Thank you for your message requesting elective time at the University of &*&.  Unfortunately, with the increase in the number of our own students we are no longer in a position to accommodate all of the requests we get from visiting students. On Jan 30, 2012 UMEC has just passed a motion that is effective immediately that at the present time we accept applications (medical students) from LCME accredited international medical schools. With the increase in the number of U of &*& and Canadian medical students, it is felt that we can no longer accommodate students other than those from LCME Accredited schools. LCME Accredited schools are only in Canada and the US. Please go to the LCME website for a list of LCME accredited medical schools - http://www.lcme.org/directry.htm

Therefore your elective has been cancelled.  

Repeat.

I would suggest that you try one of the larger medical schools in Eastern Canada to see if they would be able to assist you.

 

I suspect s/he is referring to those Eastern Canadian schools which rejected my applications in the FALL because all the electives were already full there. Thanks, tips, for the help! 

And thanks for the apology for pulling the rug out this late in the game. Oh wait, there was no apology. 

Here are some simple equations for the uninitiated: IMG + electives in Canada = possible shot at Canadian residency

IMG + no Canadian electives = Would You Like Fries With That? + MD + $300 000 Debt. 

It does not make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside when I think about how hard I am trying to get back to a country that doesn't want me. 

Oh, Canada. 


---

*International Medical Graduate

Where Am I Going Again?

As I mentioned on twitter this afternoon, when I pack I am sort of like a dog circling a spot before lying down. Only my ritual seems to involve spinning around for hours. Packing has the tendency to flare up an attention deficit problem and I find myself vacuuming, baking, cleaning my hard drive, flossing, and online shopping while stuffing random articles into my suitcases.

This trip home is exciting and a little unsettling at the same time. I haven't been back to Canada for Christmas since 2008 so naturally I am looking forward to watching some crisp moonlight snowfalls with the Nana Mouskouri Christmas album playing in the background. I can't wait to see my mom, Tobie, his family, my good friend Liz...the Arab grocery store in Montréal that I love.

The unsettling part is that I don't know how long I am going for, and where I'll be for January. It is a little difficult to pack when you don't know if you'll be spending a month in Arizona or Nunavut, a GP office or an O.R. We're talking a lot of variety here. Heels? Hikers? Nylons? Blouses? Scrubs? Sneaks? Not to mention which books I'd bring based on the place / rotation. I am still trying to arrange something but my most recent lead is looking unlikely now as well. I found out this week that I also didn't get any electives at the University of Ottawa for the summer. Have I mentioned that I am tired of feeling like a medical pariah an outcast? Is this blog post turning into a pity party? Maybe...

So now, instead of coming back to Ireland at the end of January it looks like I might be flying straight back after New Years. Sigh. I just want an opportunity to learn, and to get some hands-on experience.  It is really disheartening to constantly feel doors close in my face when I am working hard and putting myself out there. It is true that at every turn medicine asks, how badly do you want this??

OK. That is enough whining. 


On a happier note...the ginger cake that I made today turned out beautifully. I may be turning a corner in this whole baking thing. Yes, yesterday my kitchen did look like I'd had a seizure in it while holding a bag of baking soda and I probably ate 4000 calories of "broken" brownies oh I can't bring the broken ones to the Christmas party...but with each event the baking part gets a little easier and the results get a little more edible. Maybe I should try to get an elective at a pasty school...hmmm...

Adventure Racing

Today I registered for my first adventure race--and I am ridiculously excited (and scared!)

I am not exactly sure what I am getting into but it combines three sports that I am moderately un-terrible at (cycling, running, and hiking) set in an area of Ireland that I've always wanted to explore.

It is the Sea 2 Summit race in Westport, with part of the track going up Croagh Patrick (the Magic Mountain--apparently you can lessen your purgatory sentence if summit it barefoot). I suppose my main reason for possibly biting off more than I can chew is that my days are wonderfully full at the hospital but my evenings and weekends sometimes feel a little...well...empty.

Don't get me wrong, I've been enjoying hikes out and some of the new people I've met, but I find that these days, the only time I feel really good is when my heart is pounding and I'm trying to ignore the singing of my muscles. I thought it'd be ideal to have something to train for. The added bonus being that there is no water sport involved which means no one has to see me thrashing about in a bathing suit like a wounded walrus. WIN!

Did I mention I am scared?!

Good Thing He's So Darn Cute

On Friday I am flying back to Canada to see my family for Easter and CAN'T HARDLY WAIT!!!

Oh I am so looking forward to cuddling the baby twins, reading stories with my nieces, bike riding with my nephews, drinking wine with my sibs, and catching up with my mom. Just found out today that my BFF is also flying out for 2 days so I can see her avec baby-bump! Ah, 'tis grand so it is.

As I started mentally going through things to do before leaving Young Tobington here alone for 9 days, I remarked to him,

"Hey Tobes, I guess I am going to have to show you how to work the washing machine before I go so that you'll have some clean clothes when I am gone..." [snicker]

"I know how to work the washing machine!" [indignantly]

"Why don't you ever use it then??" [genuinely curious]

"Because you like doing laundry and I didn't want to ever take that away from you. It makes you feel like you've accomplished something!" [completely sincere]

Good thing he's so darn cute or the feminist in me might have strangled him with a bra hot from the dryer.

Oh Hello Something to Dream About

Wait, is that two of my favorite things in one sentence? With the word "course" at the end? Um. Yes please. 

Where do I sign up?

(Oh and come up with $5000, and permission to take a three week holiday right in the middle of my surgical rotation!)

I just have to tell myself: it is good to know that these things are out there and remind myself of that when the going gets tough here in textbook-land.