The world is covered in mist this morning. It suits my mood. I feel wrapped in mist, disjoint, disjunct from the world this mor ning. It is partly the nap and the two Benadryl I took between last night and this morning, this I know . But it is more than simply the drugs and sleep that skews my vision toward the surreal. It is the dreamlike knowledge of my walk through a half-waking world of mist and shadow - it is that which whispers tome that I am a fey and changeling child now, one I have not been for some time. It is the chill and foggy spring of the morning that has corrupted me; no failure of my own. I am mist, and washed in mist am I.
I'm almost two years out from medical school, here in Indiana where I was born and grew up. I used to write poetry - still do, sometimes - but now I've taken to spilling my heart out in prose. I'm balancing family, expecting a new baby, and working as a second-year family medicine resident. I'd like to take you along for the ride.
My updates are erratic, dependent on my mood, my current work schedule, and my ability to motivate myself. You are warned.
Expect a narrative of my days on shift. Anticipate good experiences and bad. Almost everything I write, personal or not, is a public entry, so be prepared for things that you don't quite understand.
There is a list of those who really do want to know more about me than the general public desires to see. Flip down to "spin a web" and click the link there to get in on that list.