September 18th, 2004

White Coat

Help in the most unexpected of places...

I will begin tonight by saying that I have been quiet about the things taking place recently. I will also give a deep and heartfelt thank-you to Clarabear, to Vessa, to my Lily fair, and to my Angel, for words murmured or ears offered or tiny statements made that had such an impact as to lift my eyes from the dirt of the path once more. These things that have happened, I do not believe that they are my story to tell, O Best Beloved, least of all when the melancholia has seized me once more and made me doubt myself. I do not want to write about them now because I think it would come across as asking for validation and I do not want to be told empty things that are as heartfelt and well-intentioned as they are meaningless. Please believe me, O Best Beloved, that I know you love me and I know you believe me to be compassionate and good and kind - and please believe me when I say that not everyone does, and that sometimes I am selfish and mean and small and I want to cling to my passions like a child with a ratted doll, the face torn off and the stuffing of my self-doubt spilling everywhere, clumps of words like rag hair and ripped seams. Please believe me that I have weathered this storm before and I will weather it again and I will cherish your words then, O Best Beloved, I will believe them then. But for now I will keep the stories of others to myself and I will tote them around until they are torn from my hands and laundered away by a higher power than you or I.
Amen.


Five days of evening shift in the ER began today, the day after my wonderful Angel turned twenty-five. You may go and wish lakos a happy birthday if you like. I will be having a much better celebration for him when I am not feeling so low. It is not helped, O Best Beloved, by the upcoming schedule: Friday-Saturday-Sunday, 3 PM to midnight; Monday, 11 AM to 8 PM; Tuesday, a 7 AM conference plus 3 PM to midnight; Wednesday a day off in which it is almost pointless to go home because Thursday-Friday-Saturday-Sunday is 7 AM to 4 PM; Monday off; Tuesday 7 AM conference plus 3 PM to midnight again. Two weeks, two days off, both scheduled so that it is unlikely I will be able to go home. Except that you and I know, O Best Beloved, that if I can see to drive my car I will go home. I will see my Angel, because six hours of sleep with him beside me is a dozen without. I cannot wait for October.

Tonight was not so bad. Collapse )

And wrap-up from Tuesday: lip-stitching was complimented highly, including my clever use of a corner stitch to close a flap of skin, and at 0500 I was told to go ahead and get out of there, as I was unlikely to learn any more that night. 0500-0700 is remarkably quiet. You don't need to tell a medical student twice.
Speaking of telling twice, I have errands to run tomorrow, including making my way to the school to find out what my percentile ranking is for the last three years and finishing the revision of my personal statement, as well as trying again to get hold of the family doctor I worked with a year ago. It is 0200 and I am finally getting sleepy. Good night, O Best Beloved, and sleep well, when you do.
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