For months now, I have been more involved with the personal side of my life even though I read the headlines and stories daily, and find that I squirm whenever I become aware of another unnecessary death, and almost always cringe whenever I am reminded about the looming 2016 presidential election and the lack of candidates that are human instead being a politician that poses, smiles and kisses babies and ultimately make promises that will never be fulfilled once elected.
I guess that I'm just plain overwhelmed by the world that I experience, albeit tangentially. Or perhaps I'm just lazy? That's the rationale I use whenever I decide to notice that I have not risen to the challenge to write about the things that I know are wrong and can be changed. I know that one small voice can make a difference, at least some of the time. So, trying to focus on the 2016 candidates, the TPP trade deal, the continuing slaughter of unarmed men by policemen across the nation have all innervated my ability to speak. Besides, there are so many others who are so much better at writing about the ills that surround us all.
And then of course, there is the reality that I have never felt that anyone would be remotely interested my mundane issues, a blog post about the things that all of us experience, that thing called living life. So, I rarely delve into my now. But, today after reading about a man named Bill who could have been probably the greatest Daily Kos bloggers, I decided to take a chance and expose a part of my life.
In mid-January I went for a routine medical exam and was instead admitted, ADMITTED - not allowed to leave - at least not until I agreed to return for an inside inside viewing of my heart and arteries. I was a bit flustered to say the least. As a very proactive patient, I demanded, all day long to be released. Once I heard that the professionals were a bit concerned that I was on the fast train to an "event", a fast approaching heart attack, I agreed to return as long as they would release me to go home. The deal was made and I went home and prepared myself mentally and emotionally to face the possibility that forty plus years of hypertension had finally taken it's toll.
The months leading up to my routine physical exam had been a roller coaster chocked full of stress. Basically I'm a mom and like tens of millions, well probably billions, of other moms, my kids are my heartbeat. Don't get me wrong, their father is the very air that I breathe, but the kids....well, you get the idea.
Our youngest has been on a journey for last five years and in a little less than sixty days, our little miss will be formally referred to as "Doctor Miss". What began five years ago, a quest to serve, reached a milestone of stress last September/October what with the necessity to submit applications for residency and the nerve wracking wait for, interviews. From late October until the beginning of February, our baby flew from coast to coast, from the Northeast to the Northwest, to the Midwest, and least not forget the South. In fact in January, at the time of my annual check-up, she was heading to Philadelphia.
The good news - on March 20, our daughter like the other 20,000 US medical school students received a white envelope that revealed where she will spend the next five years, maybe seven, as a resident perfecting the skills and knowledge that she has acquired during the previous five years. Unlike most med students, our daughter choose to pursue a fellowship, hence five years instead of the typical four. Just think: all the hard work and long hours for 20,000 medical students nationwide, plus all the personal fortitude all coalesce on this one fateful day in March every year since 1955. The tension in the assigned room that day was a phenomenon unlike any other.
So, I have been a bit caught up in the process of trying to "be there" for our daughter, but only when necessary. Don't even think for a moment that medical school is a walk in the park for anyone. The competition to get into medical school is alone a mind-numbing proposition. If you then multiply that competitive intensity by, say 100, as medical students seek residency positions, then perhaps you might understand why March 20, 2015 was a day experienced as stressful, joyful and tearful. Thankfully, our little miss, in mid-June, after graduation, will head off to her next assignment with those identifying letters attached to her name, a designation of distinction that will test her resolve and acquired knowledge for decades to come.
As a mom, I make a simple request of everyone that is or will be a patient. To be sure, I am a difficult patient, to say the least. But, I also know that I understand the extremely personal workings of my body and in order for a doctor to help me, he/she must understand what I know intimately. So, always be proactive in your medical care. Doctors are just people with specialized training.
Please also remember that the majority of young people that choose to practice medicine do so not to get rich. Most, in my experience of opening my home and heart to medical students, are incredibly caring individuals with an intense desire to improve people's lives.