June 12th, 2003

Nescafe rabbit

"Excuse me, but do you know if we're supposed to be here?"

Got to FWMEP at 07:55. Called Rachel. Where do we go? She says she'll meet me there in a minute, she's pulling in. So we go in, and we sit down at the table in the residents' lounge, which is where the four of us always went before when we went to FWMEP. There are little prescribing handbook guidebooky-thingies sitting on the table, a whole lot of them, from some drug rep. Rachel and I each palm one and slip it into the pocket of the White Coat that I didn't know if I was supposed to wear or not. We need 'em, after all.
08:00 comes and goes. There are five of us, sitting around the table, chatting. Me-Mike-Iwona-Rachel and John, who's a transfer from a Caribbean school. 08:30 comes and brings Carolyn with it. "You're supposed to be in the conference room..."
Oh.
Orientation in 30 minutes instead of 1 hour. Then the chat about what a fucking business medicine is, and how much it's going to cost us and how we won't have any autonomy, and how we should have a good banker and a good lawyer and a good accountant and a good insurance agent and, and, and...Gods, what a fucking depressing chat. It seems like every time people bring up the issues of money and business in medicine, they're doing everything possible to make sure you think that you're going to have no life, no autonomy, and no chance of having things go right.
I know it's a business. But it's also a vocation and a profession and godsdamnit, I want to be a doctor. I want to practise medicine and I want to talk to people and I want to live my life knowing that I am doing what I love. All the tedious details of that doing will sort themselves out with a little work and a little organisation. It's expensive, it's work, but I know it can work, and it does work, because there are thousands of doctors out there who are in practise. So why do we always get told that we're going to be shit on by everyone?

Business of medicine was followed by an overview of our community and family projects, and we were done. Out of there by 11:00. Now I'm at home, about to pack myself back into some clothes and go up to Auburn to deliver papers to Angel, so he can fax them to Indianapolis and the bank can pay our tax bill.

All that stress this morning over nothing. But I always worry about these things too much. Tomorrow....tomorrow I'm going to be in a panic again, and Dr. B sounds uber-nice from all I've heard, and I'll be bloody fine. Sounds like I'll get a wide and interesting variety of things. Hospital there is on the interstate and serves the Amish. Fun combination.
Blusys says we can do a call night with the residents through NHC and observe/assist/perform deliveries. This is exciting.


Now...now I think a little nap or relax time is in order until Taika finishes backing up.
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Me and Bri

*covet covet covet*

Courtesy ryenna's journal:
I want a headpiece. One like this. Or maybe like this. Oh, and a waist chain to go with it, something like this. Or any of the other really beautiful pieces on this site....

Trouble is, they're so expensive... I want money to buy pretty jewellery with. After money to help people with and money to pay the bills with and money to make a little bikini out of hundred-dollar bills to dress Lily in just 'cause I think it'd look neat.
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