Agape

Thank you for endless slices of German chocolate cake, and for proving that you really are never to old to jump on a trampoline.
Thank you for making Christmas magical, and for patiently letting my tiny hands remove and replace every single piece of silver tinsel my 6 year-old self could reach on your Christmas tree.
Thank you for proving that a smile really is the best accessory.
Thank you for teaching me how to climb trees, and for helping me hide the evidence of scraped knees and scuffed shoes.
Thank you for teaching me that love is selfless and can be given long after a person stops being able to receive it.

For these lessons, and so many more, I will always will be so thankful. Oh, how I will miss coming home to your hugs and our conversations spent holding hands and each other. Losing you will forever leave a hole in our family, one that we will do our best to fill with sweet memories and your legacy of love.

Out of the Woods

"Code Team, to the CT Scanner. Code Team, to the CT Scanner."

As the voice of the hospital operator echoed the familiar call to action, myself and one of the radiology residents jumped up from our chairs and dashed out of the resident reading room and across the hall to the CT scanner.

When a code is called in a hospital, organized chaos quickly follows. Within seconds, swarms of white coats pour through stair well doors. Nurses with crash carts run through halls. The urgency is palpable.

When myself and the radiology resident got to the patient, the code team was already there (I swear they can apparate) assessing the situation. An ICU patient sent for imaging had semi-consciously pulled out his ET tube and NG tube. He was now in the process of desatting as all of the oxygen molecules dissociated from their hemoglobin chaperones, with no new recruits coming from the lungs.

Last block I did an elective in radiology. Which means I was out of the medical trenches for the past few weeks, safely tucked away in dimly lit reading rooms aglow with the light of high definition monitors. While I am not considering a career in radiology, I did learn a lot and it was interesting to explore a field of medicine I have never really learned much about before. But whenever I toyed with the idea of not going into clinical medicine, something (like a code being called) reminded me which side of healthcare I want to play for.

Pulmonology and anesthesia soon showed up and the patient was reintubated. I sat back and watched intently as the emergent situation was quickly resolved. As we walked back into the reading room after the patient was stable, the radiology resident mumbled, "Man, I sure don't miss that." I smiled, realizing just how much I did.

Shiny and Bright

It's been one of those weeks where my to-do list seems endless and it's left me wishing there were more hours in the day night (for sweet, sweet sleep).  At this point in my life, it seems that there are medical students who know exactly what they want to be when they grow up. And then there are those of us running around in short white coats who still don't have a clue. I, for now, am solidly in the latter category.

In between studying and making pro and con lists for every medical specialty known to man, I remembered this quote a classmate and I used to always say to each other (usually at 2am in moments of exhausted exasperation, hunched over biochem notes):

One day, when I'm all grown up and all the unknowns that currently keep me up at night are known, I'm sure a part of me will miss the mystery of not yet knowing what will be. So for now, I'll make another cup of cocoa, start a new list, and try to be grateful for a future full of shiny and bright possibility.