I went to sleep for a while tonight but I have so many things going through my head that I thought I would give in, get up, and write about them.
Is my focus where it needs to be? I pray that I can keep looking at God in the months and years to come. I have a feeling that residency is going to be hard, in its own way, and I know I'm going to need to lean on the Lord more and more. This career can't become about me or what I can do. I pray that those around me can understand what I mean, why I feel so strongly about this, and what that can mean for them and their lives.
Strangely enough, with all this talk of faith, service, and my attempts at being bold in my beliefs, I'm worried about offending people. What does that say? Am I a coward? Am I overzealous? I'm not sure. Why would this concern crop up in a time when I'm just getting started? In talking with my pastor a few weeks ago, I've realized that honesty, the kind of honesty that God demands of me, will eventually offend someone. I guess I just don't want to push people away. I don't want to miss an opportunity to say, "Hey, the message is that we're all imperfect and flawed and yet God calls us ALL to His service. If you choose not to believe in Him or read your bible or dedicate your life to Him, He still loves you and I still love you. He HAS loved you, He DOES love you, and He WILL love you. If you don't accept that love then you miss the opportunity to share it with others. I want to share it with you but I'm also imperfect and I will eventually let you down somehow. Please don't judge God by my flaws as a person or a Christian."
Did I weird anyone out last night by thanking them too much? I think I got a little carried away at times. There were a lot of hugs and kisses given out and a lot of "I just can't say it enough. . . " but what can you do? When that's how you feel, people need to know it, right? There are so many people in my life who mean so much to me. I am surrounded and saturated by beautiful people and I want them to know that they are GOOD and I love them.
Residency. . . already starting to think about it. A doctor for only a few hours and already I'm thinking about the challenges I face. It's going to be hard and that's good but. . . scary.
Please God, protect my patients from suffering at my expense as I learn. Keep my friends and family sane as I become sleep deprived, stressed, and crazy. Protect me from myself on a daily basis. Bring past knowledge to the forefront of my mind as I attempt to accumulate more facts and figures. And finally, help me to remember what I've learned in the last six years about You and how You work.
There's still so much more in my head but I think I've emptied enough to maybe be able to sleep now :)
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Friday, January 8, 2010
Flurries
Today is. . . unfortunate. That is, it's unfortunate that today even has to mean anything to me. Will I always look upon this day and wish that a simple date meant nothing, that perhaps I'd like to be able to wipe a day off of the calendar completely? If January could go from the 7th to the 9th, I'd be grateful. The snow is falling, along with my mood, and I can't help but wonder at the effect today is having. This day last year wasn't as hard and you'd think that a year later would be like nothing. I guess it reminds me that shock and pain become comfortable, close to you, so close that you forget they're there until they strip away and all that is left is a raw, pale and un-sunned portion of yourself that you forgot existed.
When I pulled into the library this morning, I watched a snowflake land on my windshield. "God made you, individual and unique, like a flake of snow He made just for me. I vow to treasure you as the gift that you are." I remember every word of my vows, especially the "for better or worse" portion. Why, when worse came, did he decide that didn't mean anything? I wonder if I'll ever be able to make that promise to someone else. That's not important, though, not today.
The snowflake melted in about 5 seconds. To God, our lives must seem that short. We're one flake of snow in a snowstorm that lasts for eternity but we're not inconspicuous in the big picture of His grand plan. He knows every flake down to its weight, the number of tips in its pattern, how it fell and where it landed. He knows. He knows AND cares. We can't get lost from His sight. We aren't forgotten. No matter how dark or cold or deep it gets in this life, that snow falling from heaven is still pure and white, washed clean from a sacrifice made several thousand years ago.
I'm not feeling washed today. Cold, yes, I feel cold and, admittedly, a little lost. I hate divorce.
When I pulled into the library this morning, I watched a snowflake land on my windshield. "God made you, individual and unique, like a flake of snow He made just for me. I vow to treasure you as the gift that you are." I remember every word of my vows, especially the "for better or worse" portion. Why, when worse came, did he decide that didn't mean anything? I wonder if I'll ever be able to make that promise to someone else. That's not important, though, not today.
The snowflake melted in about 5 seconds. To God, our lives must seem that short. We're one flake of snow in a snowstorm that lasts for eternity but we're not inconspicuous in the big picture of His grand plan. He knows every flake down to its weight, the number of tips in its pattern, how it fell and where it landed. He knows. He knows AND cares. We can't get lost from His sight. We aren't forgotten. No matter how dark or cold or deep it gets in this life, that snow falling from heaven is still pure and white, washed clean from a sacrifice made several thousand years ago.
I'm not feeling washed today. Cold, yes, I feel cold and, admittedly, a little lost. I hate divorce.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
An Early Morning
This morning began early, really early. I continue to be amazed that God is allowing me to actually DO what my heart desires and yearns to do. Medicine continues to surprise me and my own reactions to the things that happen around me are no exception.
I walked in on a code blue yesterday in the operating room and I was taken aback by the fact that I didn't panic, I didn't feel emotionally distraught, I simply stood there amazed. I watched as they worked to save a man's life and I was intrigued by what the doctors and nurses were doing. I wanted to learn from the experience, store it away in case I ever found myself in a similar situation. A surgeon I've been following did an emergency procedure to secure an airway and I felt respect for his steady hand and his skill. This morning, the man is alive. His prognosis isn't good but I know who's really in charge and the end game is up to Him.
It is beginning to occur to me that medical school, as a process, works. Several years ago in that code situation I would have found myself in a panic. My mind is starting to see things in a new light and part of me wonders if that means that I care less about the emotional nature of certain situations. Is this a self-preserving process, this almost mechanical detachment or retreat, at moments, into another part of the brain? I'm not sure but for some reason I think I'm starting to feel a small taste of confidence and oddly, with it comes an even stronger desire to lean more on the great Physician. I find myself in awe of God and His ability to train and equip a person for their calling. He promises that He will complete the good works that He begins in each of us and I'm excited to continually be molded and shaped into what He has for me to become.
I walked in on a code blue yesterday in the operating room and I was taken aback by the fact that I didn't panic, I didn't feel emotionally distraught, I simply stood there amazed. I watched as they worked to save a man's life and I was intrigued by what the doctors and nurses were doing. I wanted to learn from the experience, store it away in case I ever found myself in a similar situation. A surgeon I've been following did an emergency procedure to secure an airway and I felt respect for his steady hand and his skill. This morning, the man is alive. His prognosis isn't good but I know who's really in charge and the end game is up to Him.
It is beginning to occur to me that medical school, as a process, works. Several years ago in that code situation I would have found myself in a panic. My mind is starting to see things in a new light and part of me wonders if that means that I care less about the emotional nature of certain situations. Is this a self-preserving process, this almost mechanical detachment or retreat, at moments, into another part of the brain? I'm not sure but for some reason I think I'm starting to feel a small taste of confidence and oddly, with it comes an even stronger desire to lean more on the great Physician. I find myself in awe of God and His ability to train and equip a person for their calling. He promises that He will complete the good works that He begins in each of us and I'm excited to continually be molded and shaped into what He has for me to become.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
He Comes
He comes and I will wait
There is no minute, no hour
He comes and is not late
All time is in His power
He comes and I am still
His breath upon my face
He comes and brings His will
My pulse begins to race
He comes and I am weak
My lips can taste His gift
He comes, my heart to seek
My will begins to shift
He comes, I feel the heat
He fills me with His light
He comes, I am complete
My Beloved in the night
There is no minute, no hour
He comes and is not late
All time is in His power
He comes and I am still
His breath upon my face
He comes and brings His will
My pulse begins to race
He comes and I am weak
My lips can taste His gift
He comes, my heart to seek
My will begins to shift
He comes, I feel the heat
He fills me with His light
He comes, I am complete
My Beloved in the night
The Pursuit
I tried to chase the sunset
Horizon long before me
Breathless
I tried to catch the last rays
Pounding pulse of the day
Threads of light strained
My hands open, grasping, willing
Breathless
I tried to bargain the beauty
Ecstasy, the glows final gasp
Pursuit of the last flash
My arms wide, aching, shaking
Breathless
I tried to follow the limit
The dwindling end of day
Fearful, the silent cease
Until I saw the sunrise
Breathless
Horizon long before me
The sun knelt
I reached farther, faster, stretchedBreathless
I tried to catch the last rays
Pounding pulse of the day
Threads of light strained
My hands open, grasping, willing
Breathless
I tried to bargain the beauty
Ecstasy, the glows final gasp
Pursuit of the last flash
My arms wide, aching, shaking
Breathless
I tried to follow the limit
The dwindling end of day
Fearful, the silent cease
Until I saw the sunrise
Breathless
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Chinese Proverb Say. . .
I was at dinner the other night with a good friend of mine. We met in my divorce recovery class about a year ago and since then we've kept in touch via Face book and e-mail. While at dinner in this fantastic Chinese restaurant, we talked about how much we've both grown in the last year and where we've both sort of been stagnant. Over beef with broccoli and steamed rice, I came to the realization that it's time I got angry about what happened to me.
I've been battling this for a long, long time. The difference between anger and hatred, the fear that comes with realizing that this kind of emotion is something I've never really felt before, and the reservations I have about how necessary this is to my healing are concepts I've both mulled over and avoided. What really is anger and what does scripture say about its role in our lives?
I know that we're told not to sin in our anger. It's interesting to me that God doesn't say "If you happen to get angry". No where are we commanded to not get angry and I can't find anything that says that anger in and of itself is a sin. We're definitely encouraged to forgive, but does forgiveness mean that you don't feel mad anymore? All things I intend on exploring in the coming days and weeks.
As we ate, we talked about how being abandoned by your spouse lets fear into your life. For a while I've been afraid that the brokenness I've felt has made me unworthy of being blessed with beauty in my life. I've made mistakes in the last year and a half and God has blessed me all along the way but there have been times when I've wondered if I really deserve His blessings, as if somehow I'm now tainted or shamed into some form of second class citizenry in His eyes. Common sense tells me that's not true but the heart is a world all of its own.
While I sipped my Jasmine tea, I realized that these feelings come from a desire to shoulder all of the responsibility of my divorce. While I know it's impossible that there isn't SOME part of this that is somehow my fault, I took my portion too far and decided to take total responsibility. There are still no explanations for my ex-husbands decision to leave me. However, just like science still doesn't completely comprehend the role an individual gene plays in determining exactly how a person will look, I may never comprehend my role in my divorce. That makes me no less or more responsible and, in God's eyes, no less or more a child of His.
The fortune cookies came and I carefully eyed the small black tray with the bill on it. Feeling that it was a good metaphorical representation of how I still feel inside, I reached over and picked up the one that was broken and smashed. I popped open the wrapper and picked out the cookie, shard by shard. Per my own tradition I saved reading the fortune for last and when I pulled it out, the paper felt unusually thick. To my surprise, there were twelve fortunes inside that one broken cookie! As we read each and every one of them, my friend and I threw our heads back and laughed at the irony of it all. It's just like God to pack a lot of great blessings into something broken and less than ideal. The value of a person rests in His eyes and it cannot be diminished by our circumstances or our mistakes. THAT is more than just good fortune-it's His grace. . . and I'm grateful.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Stethescopes and Monkey Wrenches
The mechanic and the doctor have a lot in common. I drove my car to the Ford dealership yesterday because it has been acting kind of "funny". I parked, walked inside, and approached the man at the counter. He asked me, "What brings you in to see us today?". I told him my car had been acting strangely and he said, "Tell me more about that". After we discussed the various sounds and went through how long it had been acting this way, how consistently, where the sounds were coming from, how it handled certain situations, etc, he said "We'll get someone to take a look at it and run a diagnostic. We should have something to tell you in a few hours." Shaking my head in confusion, I went and sat down in the customer lounge with a strange and familiar feeling.
I despise dealing with my car. When it doesn't work properly, I just want someone to fix it. Don't explain to me how it works, why it doesn't seem to be working right now, or try to convince me that I need a different vehicle. Just fix it and fix it now. I wonder how many patients feel that way when they come to the doctor's office. They don't really want to know why they're sick, they just want the cure and the sooner, the better. Of course, I've never heard a doctor trying to convince a patient that they needed a new body but maybe that's something for the future. I can hear it now "Ms. X, you really should think about that heart transplant because, at this rate, replacing your heart just might get you another ten years on your current liver (Wink, nudge)".
Each of us can find a connection to other people through our careers. And some of us even enjoy being on the other side of our jobs from time to time. I know that I enjoy sitting back and being the patient. When I go the doctor, I don't tell them that I'm a medical student unless I'm asked directly. Some people just don't get that. "Why not?" they ask. It's simple. I find a comfort in letting someone take care of me and take the wheel for a little bit. It's a relief not to think about what I should do for myself or the mechanism behind my aches and pains. And who wants to be quizzed about the top bacterial causes of sinusitis when you're suffering from your own sniffles?
When the mechanic was done, he promptly reminded me that there's another thing the auto shop and the doctor's office have in common. After his diagnosis and treatment recommendations, he turned to me and said, "That'll be $100."
Suddenly, I felt nauseous.
I despise dealing with my car. When it doesn't work properly, I just want someone to fix it. Don't explain to me how it works, why it doesn't seem to be working right now, or try to convince me that I need a different vehicle. Just fix it and fix it now. I wonder how many patients feel that way when they come to the doctor's office. They don't really want to know why they're sick, they just want the cure and the sooner, the better. Of course, I've never heard a doctor trying to convince a patient that they needed a new body but maybe that's something for the future. I can hear it now "Ms. X, you really should think about that heart transplant because, at this rate, replacing your heart just might get you another ten years on your current liver (Wink, nudge)".
Each of us can find a connection to other people through our careers. And some of us even enjoy being on the other side of our jobs from time to time. I know that I enjoy sitting back and being the patient. When I go the doctor, I don't tell them that I'm a medical student unless I'm asked directly. Some people just don't get that. "Why not?" they ask. It's simple. I find a comfort in letting someone take care of me and take the wheel for a little bit. It's a relief not to think about what I should do for myself or the mechanism behind my aches and pains. And who wants to be quizzed about the top bacterial causes of sinusitis when you're suffering from your own sniffles?
When the mechanic was done, he promptly reminded me that there's another thing the auto shop and the doctor's office have in common. After his diagnosis and treatment recommendations, he turned to me and said, "That'll be $100."
Suddenly, I felt nauseous.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)