October 19th, 2004

White Coat

Who do you send praise to...

...when the dean's office is the one you want to praise?

It is 19 October.  Paperwork is due to change an elective one month before the start date.  Paperwork for the elective in $other_city, where my second-choice Family Medicine residency program lurks, is due fifteen days before the start date, by special allowance of the elective calendar.  The elective I want to take starts Nov. 1.
Today, O Best Beloved, after much confusion and panic and e-mailing back and forth with the dean's office, I got the last of my approvals by e-mail for the elective.  I have no signatures.  I am not in the same city as the dean's office.  I forwarded them all to him as he had suggested.  Ten minutes later (at 5:10 PM, our time) I got the following:
Nykki -
Got them all.  Have a good time in $city !
I am going to do my elective.  I have an apartment, I will have the schedule set up, now I just need to call and schedule an interview time.  For there and for one other, and then there is only the videotape from one last one to watch and see what I am supposed to do. 
I want to praise the dean's office for being so wonderful to me.  How should I do it?

And then there was the first part of my day, today.  I arrived at $hospital at six minutes after seven, and my residents were not where they said they would be.  After ten minutes of searching, I paged them.  We met down by the cafeteria; they laughed it off.  I had a very uneasy feeling.
Collapse )
I am terrified of internship.  I cannot possibly know enough to survive.

We finished the write-up and he turned to me.  "If I were you," he says, with a smile, "I would go home now.  You're a senior.  Goof off."
That is the second time now I have been told to go goof off.  It begins to dawn on me that perhaps I should do just that.  But in this season of applications and phone calls and trying to schedule electives, I have not had time.  My play is as driven as my work, for now.
I went home, after taking Xev to the vet's office as this morning she sounded croupy and in impending respiratory distress.  She has antibiotics.  And now, O Best Beloved, I am going to go play.
  • Current Mood
    content content