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"

Jerk Face

This afternoon, I had a meeting to attend across campus and afterward, I walked back to my office by way of 35th, a busy street that creates the eastern edge of the pedestrian portion of Penn's campus. It rained over the weekend but today is dry and cold, with a pale sunny sky and a slight breeze. As I approached the crosswalk something caught the corner of my eye. I turned toward the street in time to see a massive SUV with tinted windows race through a deep, wide puddle, spraying up a massive fan of water that rained down all over my right side. My pants, coat and purse all were splattered with ugly Philadelphia street water. I would have easily hurled a juicy obscenity while glaring down the driver from the depths of my soul but he was long gone, racing through a red light toward wherever it is that assholes go on Monday afternoons in November. Already feeling fragile, I did the next best thing which was to hang my head and cry hot, frustrated tears while hurrying back to the safety of my office.

I'm trying to keep a positive post-vacation attitude but this is certainly not helping. What goes around, comes around pal!