Bucket List

Today marks the beginning of a difficult month -- it's the start of Gus' Obstetrics/Labor and Delivery rotation as a part of his anesthesia master's program. At this time last year, he spent the majority of his days in class, and was at a clinical site just once or twice a week. Now, he is at the hospital four days a week, has class on two evenings and simulation lab on Fridays. It's been like this, school on top of clinical on top of classes on top of labs, for months and months on end, like knuckles pushing into your spine, forcing you to walk faster and faster. A schedule that repeatedly leaves us teetering on the precarious edge of total burnout.

And now, double down, since for the next month, Gus will have to work shifts until eleven in the evening, sometimes being required to return to the hospital the very next morning at seven. To make matters worse, he is at a hospital in a seriously unsafe and unsavory area of Philadelphia, making his nearly midnight departure, frankly, a risky endeavor. In fact, the last time he was at this hospital, a resident he worked with was shot in the face on his way into work. I try not to worry, but, really, who wouldn't?

After our return from Montreal, I truly felt my well had been refilled to the brim. I was renewed and recharged, energy stored like provisions for the long winter ahead. But I'm starting to think there must be a serious leak somewhere, because the water level is going down fast, faster than I anticipated. Hell, we only just got back on Saturday and already I'm feeling drained. What am I going to do? Where will the strength come from this time? Where can I take my bucket and who will fill it for me? Are you there God? It's me, Stina...

Healer of our every ill,

Light of each tomorrow,

give us peace beyond our fear,

and hope beyond our sorrow.

You who know our fears and sadness,

grace us with your peace and gladness.

Spirit of all comfort, fill our hearts.

Healer of our every ill,

Light of each tomorrow,

give us peace beyond our fear,

and hope beyond our sorrow.

                                             --Marty Haugen, "Healer of Our Every Ill"