Gingerbread and Counting One's Blessings

Thanksgiving is almost here, and we have more than enough to be thankful for. B passed the California Bar Exam! He was enormously relieved, especially given that two of his twenty colleagues did not pass this time around. B will also be on the East Coast for a few months this spring for an internship, and then will be looking for work. Where he ends up will determine where I seek a residency next year.

Assuming I pass my own exam. Results haven’t arrived yet, so I feel a bit stuck in limbo right now. I keep playing the ‘what-if’ game – what if I failed? What on earth do I do then? What if I never graduate from medical school? Finally, I got so tired of this that I called my own bluff and started to compile a list of alternate careers I could do if medicine did not work out:

Clinical research director. High school teacher. Biostatistician. Medical transcriptionist. Policy analyst. Medical writer. Bench scientist/technician. Guidance counselor (ironic). Riding for the disabled instructor. Any other thoughts?

The clinical skills exam is coming up in mid-December, and I plan to start studying immediately after Thanksgiving break. We are going to his parents for Thanksgiving and mine for Christmas. Things at work are a bit hectic, as well – I feel guilty going anywhere for Thanksgiving because it puts a forced pause in an experiment where no pause should be, and my boss offered to feed my cells over the Thanksgiving weekend. Yuck. There’s nothing like knowing you are putting your boss out to take the fun out of a holiday. I am also hugely inexperienced and am dealing with quite a steep learning curve. I’m sure that I supply the more seasoned scientists with plenty of laughter over my naive mistakes. 

As you can probably tell, I am feeling all out of balance... plans I thought I had made so carefully to schedule things out this year have gone awry, and I just hope that somehow it will all work out. I am learning important things about myself, though – I do not think I want a wildly unpredictable career where I play five different roles and juggle far too many responsibilities. Although I doubt any medical career could ever be low-stress, I would like medium as opposed to very high stress on a daily basis. A little bit of time for family would be nice, as well. I think that this culture really does emphasize doing as much as you possibly can, and de-emphasizes things like family time, sleeping, and food. No wonder obesity has become a problem – poor, stressed-out working people have too little time to cook, so they simply eat processed foods or eat out all the time. And they are so busy working that they are never able to go for a walk. It's a double whammy.

Anyhow, one of the sovereign remedies for the blues is to think happy thoughts. Funny things qualify: the other day, the children who live above us were dancing around while it was raining out. Somehow, the rain amplified their footsteps until it sounded like an army was marching over our heads. Of course, they will now forever be known as the Storm Troopers.

Secondly, one of B's colleagues called Swarthmore College, our alma mater, a "potted Ivy." I thought this was both highly flattering and quite appropriate (but then, I'm biased. I loved Swarthmore).

Another form of happy thinking (appropriate for the upcoming season) is to list the stuff you are grateful for. So here goes... 

Things I am Grateful For: (Here are the ones I can think of right now, in no particular order)

Being happily and newly married.
All the wonderful people who came to our wedding/sent us love.
Living in the same town as my brother!
Having adorable parents fifteen minutes away.
Warm gingerbread with cold milk.
My thirteen-year-old cat, who is still pretty feisty.
The friends I've made in medical school, and the friends from college who stuck around.
Having a job with good colleagues.
A car, a roof over our heads, food, comfortable clothes, and some extra goodies.
Good in-laws. Seriously.

To facilitate putting the attitude of gratitude into practice, I just got one of my favorite things in the world: a new blank journal. It's been a year since I kept one. For $3.99, isn't it worth it to feel as though your life is, once again, a clean, fresh sheet of paper just waiting to be written on? The only feeling that tops it is when you've filled it.