Last week, I told myself that I would write a few minutes each day. I thought this regimen would help me maintain my writing practice. I thought this would produce a thoughtful reflection on the issues surrounding end-of-life discussions in psychiatry.
I did not write at all this past week. In fact, I’m writing this reflection on Tuesday instead of my normal scramble on Sunday mornings to get something passable published.
The week smoshed me. First interview day for resident applicants: which meant a pre-interview dinner on Monday night, then providing a tour of the hospital on Tuesday afternoon. Bizarre to be on this line of the process: no longer a medical student, now a physician, but still in training. The bright-eyed fourth year students are vying for impressions and a spot on our rank order list.
On Wednesday, dinner and a movie for the local psychiatry association. I planned to duck out after the dinner, before the movie, but alas. I was stuck far from the door. The movie itself was enjoyable, but not as enjoyable as an evening with my partner and baby. The psychoanalysis of characters with a room full of attending psychiatrists and residents was actually quite interesting and worthwhile.
Then, a few days of normal running around the hospital. I took Friday off due to a looming illness: scheduled for weekend call, and running myself into the ground and truly falling ill over the weekend sounded terrible.
Weekend call went alright, adjusted back into the swing of the inpatient floor without too much fuss. Just a few very hostile patients coupled with a few sexually inappropriate patients made for a lot of unwanted attention.
Return to consults in the hospital Monday. This is my second to last week of this rotation, twelve weeks of romping around the hospital. I feel in my stride.
And today, on my day off, I brought Joonsu to the pediatrician for his first flu shot. The first time I’ve taken him, on my own, to the doctor’s office. I had been dreading this day for the past week. It came and went without too much fanfare. He was upset, but only for a moment. Now, he is napping.
And so, that is all explanation as to why I never addressed the concern I brought up last week. I don’t know if I will, at this point. So much happens that I either reflect on it as it happens or it goes in the hoarder pile of unprocessed experiences.
It is difficult to believe that I am almost 5/13 rotations through intern year. Neurology is up next. A departure from the comfort of psychiatry. I think I’m ready for it. Or maybe that is more self-deception?
Relationally, it is hard to imagine how things could be better. The baby is happy. The grandmothers are close, though one will be leaving soon. Mackenzi and I haven’t been sleeping well due to the baby, nut we are a strong team. Ready for more.
Emotionally, drained due to the lack of sleep noted above. But, I feel zesty and full of life. Maybe that is the cold in the air, reminding me how good it feels to be holding a warm, soft sleeping baby. Things are good.
Physically, I am continuing my movement practices. More toward the heavy and intense, not so much flowing and unstructured. Maybe that will be my shift this coming week. I feel physically well, though.
Spiritually, I continue to feel the wisps of connection. I feel like I’m aligning again with the human I want to be. Joonsu’s birthday is coming soon, which brings much reflection and contemplation on the nature of… things.
- Relational –5/5
- Emotional – 4/5
- Physical –4/5
- Spiritual –4/5
- Total – 17/20
- 3wk running total – 43/60