A Tuesday, The Subway, A Letter

This is the Last Tuesday - the last one where I will where I will be only a Mrs. since after Friday I will forever be a "Dr." (and still the Mrs. - perhaps I should call myself Dr. Mrs. ---? it was a tradition in the turn of the last century, but it is rather cumbersome.) I think the magnanimity of this week is finally hitting me. I'm elated and scared at the same time. I know my role as a doctor won't change who I am or how I feel about myself, but it is strange nonetheless. Or rather, I feel strangely. I never thought I'd get to this point, oddly, even as the last year was winding down. I didn't realize until yesterday that it might be a long time until I next visit my old stomping ground, the hospital where I trained for two years, and the school where I studied for the other two. I mostly likely won't see my mentors again for many, many years (well, one is now at Case Western, another is going to Case Western in June, and the last is at Duke) and I may never see some of those resident-surgeons or medical school colleagues again, even though a lot of them have done much to shape my experiences in the last year.

In a moment of desperation, I considered starting a Facebook page. I did not though, as I do shudder at the fact that other people, those I tried so hard to avoid, may once again find me. I also enjoying owning the content of my page and being able to delete entries.

On my way home from running an errand, I had a couple good moments: seeing two four-five year old girls playing on the subway with their sister who has Trisomy 21, and realizing that I really am happy about being a doctor.

When I came home and opened my e-mail, I received a beautifully written letter from an old friend as means of introduction. Tiger in DC, I am seriously considering you as the writer of my euology.


It's been a good day.