A week in the Georgian coast... what did I do?

In the past seven days, I baked and shipped cookies to two special people- one as a birthday present, the other because he is so brave to come all alone to a new country. Made two of my favorite chocolate bundt cakes for my mom to give to her neighbors. Cooked the famous spaghetti/meatball recipe for my dad as I promised, with enough left overs to re-simmer and re-heat long after I've left. Tried a new crabcake recipe with really good result and is easily replicable on my own. I also watched a Chinese miniseries (蜗居）which noticeably improved my Chinese and temporarily shifted my focus to imaginary plots that are more captivating than my own drama... But what I shouldn't forget, and won't forget, is how my mom got up early this morning to make freshly steamed 包子for me before I left. She knows it's my favorite, and bc I've been hogging the kitchen all week there simply wasn't space, on the dinner table or in my stomach, to fit it in. So I woke up to the sound of her in the kitchen today, and sure enough, they were ready for lunch with enough to come home with me.


Back to reality... whatever that means. Sometimes my life is so odd it is down right surreal...

Morning walk on the beach minutes away from the house...

I'm home!

It doesn't look like home yet, half of the materialistic landmarks are still in St. Louis. My favorite painting, my dragonfly curtain, the copper and glass table... not here. Possibly, most unfortunately, alarmingly... my heart isn't here either... Having endured 2 weeks of ED and coming home for the first time since June, I want nothing more than to immerse myself in this beautiful kitchen with a wooden counter thick enough to be a chopping board!

But I can't... yet... People always say don't make decisions when you're angry... I wonder if the same can be said about all extremes of emotion. Don't make decisions when you're heartbroken. Don't make decisions when you can't see clearly past the sadness. Don't make decisions when there is a small voice of reason that once in awhile breaks through all your chaotic remembrances and tell you to -- let it go.

Hang on to that voice... it's the only thing that has the possibility of leading you to somewhere safe.

I went three ER shifts without a single admission, then last night, two for my fellow intern/resident on GI. The second one was called at 4:30am. I felt so guilty I would have done the admission for him myself. The worst part, however, was the call to the GI fellow prior. Yes, I can see the irritation from her point of view -- being woken up at 4 AM and not for an admission, but a complicated management question. BUT, there is never a need to be an *** to your colleagues. She should know an intern would never call a fellow (esp at that hour) unless it were supported by the team/attending. Of course it was my attending who insisted on the call. She said - you're a clinician too; you should be able make the medical decision. If that were the case, then why do we need specialists?

The worst worst part is that I like this fellow. She is odd, but there is nothing wrong with being odd. There is, however, something wrong with being an A****. I wonder if I should be so friendly the next time I run into her. Sigh... Whatever, I'll just do what feels right at the moment. That seems to be all I can do these days.

Not looking forward to tonight. Sick of the ED. Sick of taking two showers a day. Sick of leaving home in pitch dark and going to sleep when the rest of the world is waking up...

Sat night 10 hour ER shift:

8:50 pm: The hospital lobby is nearly empty. If I ignore the strange people in PJ's carrying around sleeping bags, it is not so different from my morning walk. Dark out, bright in, I walk past Starbucks with hope... if only... The first people I see get my best 'good morning' smile. Unfortunately I also verbalize it out loud and immediately feel like a retard.

10 hrs to go...

11 pm: Cute resident, Nice attending... Maybe it won't be a bad night. 40 ppl in ED! Why aren't they at home watching oprah's Oscar special??? We have two 3rd year medical students; they don't talk much and I'm too new to be chatty. Ohhhh... I want to be third years... just for awhile.

3:30 am: A blur of charts, pts, dictations. My throat hurts. Many water bottle refills, many trips to the bathroom. Must talk sparingly now. I get so pale in the middle if the night. All the color just drains out of my cheeks. If not for a little eyeshadow, I would look like death. Checking my email without thinking... old habbit...

3.5 hrs to go

4:21am: time is sllooowwing down. Spend 10 min flushing an eye with saline... just to get out a sweater fuzz. Don't ask me why he couldn't just rub it out... The wife is really cute. I would admire how cute they are together except he smokes. That ruins it all... I can see it now, lung cancer in 10 years. She might even get it first... Second hand smoke... Selfishness, stupidity, *bad word, bad word*

I phone battery halfway down...

6:09 am: awaiting ct results for a poor little lady with sore throat. She cried when I touched her neck. The resident said I could do another admission if I want. Uhmmm... Sure I do. I'm dying to do another admission that's sure to make my shift go over.

I miss my team...

6:31 am: Still waiting for the ct... will not leave on time. That is the problem with this count down, the clock does not have the final say.

I miss my team...

2:00 pm Oscar night: post shower, post nap, post oatmeal... Turned on the TV and there is Keira Knightly in that emerald green gown... ahhh, that's my inspiration gown for the day.

Thursdays with Julia

It's presumptuous to give this blog entry such a presuming title, but I couldn't resist. Thursdays with Julia sounds like a tradition, rather than a first time endeavor inspired by watching Julie and Julia. One thing is for sure, there will not be cooking of the boeuf bourguignon caliber every Thursday (or cooking at all, for that matter). But... for now... here is to tradition:



A little messy? But this is JULIA's boeuf bourguignon. My friend and I didn't eat dinner until ~10 pm. The 3 cups of red wine is not subtle, especially when one opens the oven door to stir the pot -- the Swift of alcohol mixed with the hot oven says stand back! It also says I'm not ready yet...

Straight from the oven, bubbling in the dutch pot, this dish is heartwarming. I was lucky to share it with a friend, who googled for the original recipe and studied it many times over before we started to sear the bacon. But, this is also the dish for the meals I eat alone, on my sofa or by my desk... It will fill up all the empty spaces, inside and out.

http://www.oprah.com/food/Boeuf-Bourguignon

I don't blog like I should, uncertain which thoughts are too personal to share and which are too trivial... But if I did blog about today, this is what I would say:

Today is my last day at the VA. I was the last one to leave the team room and it made me sad turning off the light and walking away for the last time this year... All the mornings I walked into that room so dark except for the floating 'windows' sign on the three computers side by side, a long wooden table deceptively clean of dust and clutter... until I turn on the light. The next time I see my team, it will be a hurried hello and goodbye while breezing past each in the hallway. Nevertheless, I will remember... how I counted on them to make me laugh every single day this month.

This has been an especially hard month, for reasons DEFINITELY too personal to recount here. If not for my co-workers, I would have put my head down and cried over my computer many many times. Even so, it was still hard to swirl out of the chair and work with a clean slate of mind. Some days I put on my white coat with decided determination -- I WILL not let this affect my work. I will NOT let this strain my smile in the morning.

I've been here before... walking away and leaving the door ajar. Last time I had to turn back and slam the door. Only then can I let time heal, as only time could. BUT, that was then, this is now. I am THAT much more mature, that much more aware, that much more appreciative of the special people in my life. Friends I have, laughter I can find, but that special connection, no matter in what form, is still rare and hard to come by. To shut the door on that? I can't do it... not yet.

Julie and Julia is lovely!!! So lovely that my best friend and I will be attempting the boeuf bourguignon this week. Of course I will be blogging about that. :)