"Doc, I'm tired of this." I looked at V's wan face. The vibrance that I adored had been sucked out of her over the last 9 months by chemotherapy and radiation. I remembered the moment she cried in my office, angry I hadn't been the one to tell her that her breast cancer had returned everywhere. Now she couldn't muster up any emotion - no tears, no anger, no frustration. Just tired.
Confession time: I almost quit blogging 20,000 page views brought me to my knees. I was humbled that people were actually reading my ramblings. Elated that people were commenting on the posts and emailing me about how my story resonated with them. Then the OH SHIT moment happened. Did I really want that many people peering into my mind?
Truth be told, I've never felt I needed a designated mentor - not in pre-med, med school or residency. Ain't nobody got time for that. Wrong.
This horrendous cold and flu season has been an exercise in running on auto-pilot. Running from room to room every 10-15 minutes has been a blur of declaring, "Virus - no antibiotics needed. Virus - no antibiotics needed. Ear infection - here's your amoxicillin. Flu - Tamiflu sucks and you're going to feel like dying for the next 7 days, sorry. Maybe take me up on the flu shot next year." This was my life for two weeks after making the mistake of not taking any time off Christmas/New Year's at the end of 2017. (Note to self: Worst . Idea . Ever. Take a vacation already!!!) Just as I was ready to go insane from the monotony, the palest toddler with the most crystal blue eyes brought everything to a screeching halt.
Most people in their 20's and 30's assume they're going to wake up tomorrow. They believe they'll get to make good on their plans a few weeks, months and even years from now. Death is a thing that happens to old people, therefore, they have plenty of time to worry about that later. Not for me. Death is a constant companion of mine. ...