Studied my everloving tushy off, and was rewarded with an exam that was nothing like what I'd expected. My head is so full, my mind so drained right now, that I don't even remember parts of it. But it's over, and the passing score is only 65%, which I was doing above during my practise studying last night.
I hope. I hope I hope I hope.
Now it's on to a mentoring meeting at 12:30, with a free box lunch to follow the free lasagna lunch I had too much of after the exam. And then home, to Angel. To sleep. To enjoy my weekend before the prospect of Peds Surgery (yes, O Best Beloved, the next six weeks will consist of rounding at 4 AM, spending the day being pimped as surgeons cut and stitch and repair children, and coming home no later than 5, only to begin all over again the next day) looms too far over my head. Can I survive Peds Surg on 6 hours of sleep a night? We'll see.
To note for later:
I didn't think she looked like pyelo.
What do you mean my child's going to foster care?
Tell me why we admitted these twins again?
No, that's a little boy baby. Watch out for the braids.
His parents say he takes a while to warm up to strangers.
And the things that Dr. M and JK said to me in final evaluations. Playing Jeopardy and eating pizza. I want you to become a pediatrician.
But for now, the lounge is busy. The computers are in demand. Until then.