Tag Archives: Happiness

Free Air!

I dedicate my comeback post to the young lady I saw yesterday with chronic, asymptomatic, pneumoperitoneum – for the players at home, that’s free air in the abdomen. She is hoping we’ve given her enough radiation to turn her into the Incredible Hulk in time for Christmas. A girl can dream…

The best semester of med school ever is drawing to a close. With final exams behind me, I launched into my pre-internship term in surgery and loved it. Then two electives, close to home. It’s been fabulous. Not having the pressure of exams and assessments makes learning more enjoyable.

Today was my last day on the wards, the last day I could tell a patient “I’m not a doctor…” – an exhilarating and mildly terrifying thought. Three days on campus next week and then I’m done.

I truly wish I had kept better record of this year. Maybe I’ll do a retrospective during my luxurious six-week holiday – the one that comes between the last day of school and the first day of work. Or maybe I’ll work on my golf swing. As with Miss Incredible Hulk, only time will tell.

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How Sweet It Is

I can’t think of a more joyous sound than the sound of someone I love singing her lungs out in the shower.

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Possibly Neglected to Mention

In no particular order, since June:
Received a one-year rural medicine scholarship.
Did my first Arterial Blood Gas ‘Stab’ – Easy as.
Still suck at plain old cannulation.
Attended an arrest call and kept out of the way.
Told by patient “You look like kd lang… not in a bad way.”
Got my hair cut on the back porch for $10. Trauma-free.
Started Bootcamp and got hooked.
Survived 12 days at home without The Girl and Yellow Dog of Happiness.
Spent a day as interviewer for Med School applicants.
Started interval training for running, again.
Buggered my knees, see above.
Don’t care, not stopping.
Avoided Med Ball.
Ooh, was in Med Revue. Again.
Remain madly in love with Girl.
Flirty guy doctors. Wrong tree.
Random encounters with mothers of two babies I delivered last year.
Delivered one baby.
Attended 21st birthday party (possibly first since own).
Mistaken for Senator Penny Wong. Sense recurring theme.
Stephanie Alexander’s chocolate chip cookie recipe is exceptionally good.
Jointly disposed of 3x large bin bags of oversized clothes.
Mostly just happy.

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One Hand Clapping

McCat is asleep and purring on my arm, and my one`handed typing can’t keep up with my brain.

It’s Hiroshima Day. Please take a moment to reflect on world peace. Make it as long a moment as you like.

Today I had to go to the dentist in the city. Last time I did this, my mouth stayed numb for far too long and I felt all woozy, so I had an unscheduled overnight stay with my dad. This time, my girl and the Yellow Dog of Happiness came with me to drive me home.

We drove for three hours, got a great coffee, had a quick catch-up with my lovely Step-Ma, I tottled off to the chair; Girl and Yellow Dog had a stroll by the water. They picked me up, excessively numb and somewhat dopey, we picked up some sashimi to take home for dinner, and stopped near our old house to get the Girl a late lunch.

There’s an off-leash park around the corner from the house where we lived for seven years. Let’s take the hound there, I said, and you can eat your lunch before we hit the traffic again. Great idea, off we go.

Yellow Dog is much more in love with her than he is with me, but I convinced him to leave the Girl on her park bench. The two of us wandered across the dusty excuse for a park, greeting assorted small dogs and their owners in the appropriate way. All very harmonious.

Harmonious until behind us, a certain spaniel launched itself at the Girl’s face and stole a part of her lunch.

She politely and quietly suggested to the owner that he control his dog.

Loud enough for me to hear across the park, he suggested that she ‘stop eating for five minutes.’

For the last five months, the Girl has been working against history, genetics and a whole bunch of internal demons to regain the athlete’s frame she lost to sedentary work and too much of a good thing. She has been working HARD. And she’s looking and feeling great. She has muscles on her muscles. Her clothes are hanging off her.

There was a not-so-subtle implication in his choice of words, and I dare say it cut us both to the core.

As the portly man continued to rant at her, blaming her for being in a dog park and completely failing to apologise or attempt to control his dog, she calmly stood up and walked over to the Yellow Dog and I, obnoxious spaniel in tow.

The food obsessed spaniel climbed all over us for a full lap of the park, clawing at our legs and completely fixated on the end of the sandwich. No intervention. No apology. No manners. No accountability.

There was a time when I feared living outside the city because my differences would be more obvious and I thought I would struggle for acceptance. As I got to know the Girl’s home town, I formed the view that the anonymity of the city was a bigger threat. In a small town, people know who you are. Sure, they’ll know you’re the gayest doctor in town. But they’ll also know that if they egg your car, someone in town will know who did it.

He lives in the inner city and has a little rainbow name-tag on his spaniel. Chances are, he’s a friend of a friend. Would he have dared to unleash his stream of vitriol on my Girl if he knew the whole town would know by Wednesday?

Probably. People like that are like that wherever they live their unhappy lives.

But for us, this unpleasant encounter with the obnoxious man and his uncontrollable dog just underscored our growing distaste for the city, and cemented a feeling that our tiny town is the home we want it to be.

I’m so proud of the woman I love for the way she walked away. It implies a healthy stock of inner peace.

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Better Than Before

I have to correct some misconceptions – my own. It turns out that my oddball study methods don’t suck as badly as I thought. In fact, in the written exam, for once I skated right over the top of the cohort bell curve and landed nicely with both feet firmly down the right-hand slope. Basically the inverse position compared to my performance in the first two years.

So my initial post-exam gut-feel was on the money, I did ok, and from now on the whiny little voice in my head that undermines my confidence can just shut the hell up.

Another thing I was right about though: I did fail the OSCE eye station. In OSCEs I am average, so there’s nice room for improvement.

I’ve found three four-leaf clovers in the last few weeks, and coincidentally have been granted a one-year scholarship that I am particularly happy to hold. Consider me officially happy.

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