Catching Up is Hard to Do

I’ve noticed that the more you put something off, the easier it is to keep putting it off. And I’ve decided that it’s time that I re-acquaint myself with this blog. In order to do this fairly, though, I will do several things. First, there will be a quick synopsis of the past several months as it applies to me and my family. Then follows the promise to not be so sporadic/absent in my writing. I think that it will be a little easier to write, but that remains to be seen.

So I finished the second year of medical school the second week of May by taking several NBME exams. NBME = National Board of Medical Examiners. These exams were to serve as a benchmark so that I could evaluate my base of knowledge and better prepare for the upcoming USMLE Step 1 exam. Then came 6 weeks of intense studying for said exam. My resources were as follows: First Aid for USMLE Step 1, 2010 edition; USMLEWorld Qbank; DoctorsInTraining.com Step 1 review course; and a few chosen classmates as study partners. I took the exam on June 17, breathed a quick sigh of relief and thanked God for getting me through it, and undertook the exciting task of moving to our current location in Southwest Georgia. We then settled in to our new house, and began the process of waiting for the arrival of our lovely little boy, Ravi.

Yup, he’s cute!

He finally arrived in the wee hours of July 22, and we were thrilled to have the waiting game over with.  He currently gets lots of attention from his sisters, mom, and occasionally, me.

I began the third year of medical school in July, technically speaking, but deferred my elective to fourth year so that I could help get settled in after the move, help with the new baby, etc.  It was good to have this time off for both familial reasons as well as school reasons.  As Vice-President of this Southwest Campus of MCG, I was able to use some of my time off to talk with my colleagues to make sure things were going smoothly with their rotations, and bring these things to the attention of the leadership if they were not.  They were, at least mostly, but there were a few small issues to help colleagues work through.

My first rotation (of sorts) was two weeks of Hospice and Palliative Medicine (HPM), and I spent a fair amount of time talking with patients about facing the rest of one’s life with a terminal illness.  It was a sobering experience, but enjoyable.

I am currently in my second rotation, but since it is the first rotation to actually give me hands-on experience working with and treating patients, I refer to it as my first rotation.  I hope the HPM people, and the Intersession (that’s what that rotation was called) people will forgive me, if this is a transgression; I do not intend it to be so.  This current rotation is 6 weeks of Family Medicine. I am actually in my last week of this rotation, and will shortly give an overview of this rotation and my impressions of it as a specialty.  I intend to do this with all rotations, but will endeavor to update you during the rotations as well.  For safety reasons (if there are any lurkers, I mean you) I will not give details of where I spend my time until I am done with my time there: this will be more relevant some months than others, but I take few chances.

So now you are caught up, albeit briefly, with my life.  As I just said, I plan to post at least every other week, schedule permitting; I may even post in successive weeks, but that’s a little much to hold myself to.  Additionally, at the end of each rotation, I’ll give a little more info on where I’ve been, and what my opinion (brief) is of the rotation.  Any case studies that I may or may not include are changed enough that they must be considered fictitious; if it sounds like you, then either you or I have a most wonderful imagination, because I’m definitely NOT talking about you. Period.  Additionally, do not consider my stories/discussions to be medical advice; for all you know, I’m just another Mongolian yak-herder, the next hill over from Dr. Grumpy. So there.

Until next time…

Looking Ahead

It’s official, folks. (If there is only one addressee, is the proper word ‘folk’? Hm, a curious thought. But I digress.) Barring unforeseen circumstances, I will be spending my third and fourth years of medical school at Albany, in Southwest Georgia. After praying about this, I applied, and we had been in a holding pattern of sorts for the last few weeks. I am excited to learn in a setting where the attending physicians seem to be eager to teach and are, by all appearances, very pleasant to work with and of high character. Of course, there will be adjustments, and as a member of the pioneer group, there most likely will be glitches to deal with along the way, but the overall picture is invigorating and exciting.

Now, back to studying pulmonology and Step 1 material…

Out of the Mouths of Babes…

So we were having family devotions the other night, and per Kaylie’s request, we read the story of Jonah. In the middle of the story, right at the part where Jonah decided to run away from God, Kaylie chimed in. “Daddy, we can’t run away from God. You can’t hide from God, because God looks down and He sees EVERYONE!” (motioning with her hands in a horizontal circle)

Wow, my wife does a great job of teaching our children while I’m gone.

On Children (or, On Growing Up)

So of course, I’m a father of two, and as my dear reader, you must be thinking, “Yup, HE’S got alot to learn.” But I observed something the other day that sorta hit me like a ton of bricks. Ignoring my parenting skills (or the lack thereof), observe with me.

I came home from studying at school on Wednesday evening, and Lezlie and the girls were just leaving the church next door, walking home from prayer meeting.  I parked the car and came around to the front of the house to greet my family that I hadn’t seen all day, and Kaylie came running ahead to see me.  Ashleigh was a little further behind, but she soon caught up as well, and hugged me around my legs, overjoyed to see me.  Then, as she often does, she begged (in verbage that can be difficult to understand, but hey, she’s only 22 months old!) to carry my lunch box into the house.  This would only be about 40 feet or so, but my box is rather bulky, and it was heavier than it sometimes is.  Also, I think my empty coffee mug was in there, and adding the fact that the ground was slightly uneven (as lawns often are), the task was much more difficult for her to complete than she expected.  Struggling, straining, stumbling, she insisted on carrying my box by herself.  I asked her if I could help her, holding one side of the handle and she the other.  “No!” was her emphatic response, and she really did fight me for complete control of the box.  Now, at this juncture, I could have insisted that she let me help her, or even let me carry it myself, since she was technically disobeying and fighting me.  However, I allowed myself to be taught a lesson, an important object lesson from my 22-month-old daughter. See, on one level, she just wants to help.  She also wants to feel important, and to show her daddy that she can do something all by herself. She even tried carrying it in one hand, and even though it didn’t work very well, I saw that she was trying to be like me.  She wants to be like me.  In her eyes, Daddy is big. Unbelievable.  It’s still hard to see myself as a grown-up that the “little people” want to look up to, and admire.  I guess it’s just because I know me.  But I saw something else, something striking, proverbial, almost allegorical, that I almost missed.

You see, I suddenly saw myself as my daughter.  I want to do everything, or as much as possible, on my own.  I’m a human, after all, and my pride wants me to do everything in my own strength.  All along, God is reaching out to me, offering, pleading, wanting to help me. “Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy-laden and overburdened, and I will cause you to rest. [I will ease and relieve and refresh your souls.] Take My yoke upon you and learn of Me, for I am gentle (meek) and humble (lowly) in heart, and you will find rest (relief and ease and refreshment and recreation and blessed quiet) for your souls. For My yoke is wholesome (useful, good–not harsh, hard, sharp, or pressing, but comfortable, gracious, and pleasant), and My burden is light and easy to be borne.” (Matt. 11.28-30, The Amplified Bible).  At times, tired of carrying the load by myself, I give my burden to Him Who is able to bear it.  But seemingly just as often, I struggle, insisting on “being big” and handling life by myself.  I don’t want help, and I can’t stand to admit that I need help.  Even more difficult is being willing to let God be in control from the beginning.  But that is what I commonly, humanly, manly-ly, do.  And I fall, stumble, trip over my clumsy feet, refusing the steadying Hand of God.  How tragic.

Dear Father, help me to see myself as You see me.  Help me to let You control my life from the beginning of each day, each project, not waiting until I can go no further on my own accord.  I choose again to place my hand in Yours, to follow your leading.  I choose Your Yoke, Your Burden.  Amen, So Let It Be.