Third Year is Over!

It's over!  Third year is officially over! 

Most people who have done medical school, say third year is the worst.  And I agree.  It was hard for me and Squeaks.  It was hard for Mav too.  It was a hard year. 

I think it was hard because third year matters.  Mav wanted to do well on all of his rotations.  The worst part for him was probably that he was gone all day long and then he would have to come home and study all night long.  On the plus side, no rotation lasts forever.  The first day of surgery, he came home saying only seven weeks and seven days left.  Surgery was the worst!  Psych was a close second.  It was easy for Mav but he hated it. 

It's done!  It's behind us!  Mav came out pretty well, I think.  He honored in surgery, pediatrics and OB/GYN. 

And now we get to move onto the fun stuff: fourth year.  We get to start researching residencies, interviewing and counting down to match day and graduation.  We can start planning the next chapter of our lives!  Well, as much as you can plan it with the match.  I can hardly believe we're almost done. 

So, here's to fourth year!!  

This Better Be Worth It

We just paid for Mav's Step II test.

We had been warned by our friends to set aside this money because it's not counted into our student loans.  We just put the idea on the back burner.  We wish we hadn't now.  I'm now passing this lovely bit of information on to all you second years: set this money aside when you get your money!  DO IT!!  And yes!  I am shouting!!   

Ask me how much it was.  Go ahead.  Do it.  It was 1700 dollars.  1700 bones.  Yes.  That is a 17 with two zeros following the 17 part.  One thousand seven hundred dollars.  

I feel like I've been violated in some way.  

All I can say is this doctor thing better be worth it.  My heck. $1700? 

Feeling Like a Single Parent

Some days I feel like a single parent.  It comes with the territory of being a med school wife.  Some rotations are cake but then there's the horrible ones.  You know, the ones where you only see your better half when they're climbing into or out of bed.  Or not at all, I've had to meet Mav at the hospital for lunch so Squeak and I could actually see him in only partial zombie mode.  The joys of third year...

Today is one of those days that I feel like a single parent.  I've rarely had this feeling.  Squeaks is a super easy toddler.  Nonetheless, she's still a toddler.  But Squeaks makes it easy being a single parent for a short amount of time.

Until today.  Squeaks had a slight running nose yesterday.  I think it's allergies.  Nothing horrible.  But this morning, she came into my room with thick, gooey snot creeping from her nose to her chin.  Gross!!

Now, this wouldn't be a problem any other day of the week but today is Sunday.  We have church.  Squeaks attends her own classes.  (Yes, my two year old attends church classes but it's more of two hours of play time with a five minute lesson about Jesus.)  And I teach a class too, the five to six year old kids.  And Mav is working.

So today, I had to call in sick for my class.  I feel bad.  But I'd feel worse knowing that someone else would be constantly wiping my child's gooey nose.  Oh.  And I would feel twice as bad if Squeaks actually had a cold that spread to the whole class.  That's just not cool.

So today, I had to be a single parent.  I had to suck it up and ask someone else to take over my responsibilities.  It's actually a good thing for me.  I'm a rather prideful person.  I need to learn that sometimes I simply can't be there all. the. time.  And that's ok.  Because we all know, there's going to be a lot more of this single parent thing in the years to come.  And that's ok too.

P.S.
I'm secretly excited to sit at home and watch some NCAA basketball.  Hee!  Hee!     Go SLU!  Tip off is at 1:45.

Surgery No More

Mav just ended his surgery rotation.  Eight long weeks of surgery.  And he hated it!  I was so relieved.  Don't get me wrong, I would have supported his decision to be a surgeon.  But I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I was secretly rooting against it.  

I think all med students think of surgery as a specialty at some point in their schooling.  Mav did.  He thought trauma surgery would be cool.  And then he did this rotation. 

He hated the hours.  He never saw the light of day.  He hated that most of the residents were cocky and sometimes rude.  Maybe they were sleep deprived.  Who knows?  Mav hated just standing around in the O.R.  He hated that he couldn't scratch or itch anything, not even his nose.  It drove him nuts!  He's a baseball player and he is always scratching himself.  You see how that would be a big issue for him?

Mostly, he hates the lifestyle of a surgeon.  They work a lot.  And they need to work a lot.  Someone has to do all those surgeries.  Their residencies are long.  The hours are long.  The surgeries themselves are long. 

There are two things we've learned from this surgery.  One, Mav is not considering surgery at all.  Like he's not thrilled in the least bit to do a surgical sub-specialty for fourth year but he has to.  And two, kudos to surgeons and their families.  It's not an easy job and they probably don't get recognized for the sacrifice it takes to be a surgeon or the wife and family of a surgeon.  Kudos to you guys! 

I Take It Back

Remember when I said third year bites?  I take it back.  Third year was a breeze.  Until now...

Mav is currently on an eight week surgery rotation.  Now.  This.  Sucks.  He's on trauma surgery during the nights.  It's fascinating.  He loves it.  Why wouldn't he or any other surgeon?  He's observing trauma surgeries at night in the homicide capital of the nation.  Yeah.  He sees some interesting things. 

Want to know what Squeaks and I don't see?  Him!  Mav's shifts are 6 pm to 6 am.  He sleeps till he wakes up.  At 4 pm I give Squeaks the all clear to wake up her daddy.  We normally get to see Mav for about an hour, or two if we're lucky.

So this surgery rotation does bite.  But I'm okay with it for now.  Want to know why?  I get the whole bed to myself!!  I can watch what I want to watch at night!!  I can make whatever I want for dinner!!  Squeaks and I have been eating super easy meals: cereal, waffles, grilled cheese and tomato soup.  I am having a Grey's Anatomy marathon.  You know, I have never watched it.  Never.  And I'm hooked!  And it's a good thing Mav isn't around to ruin this show for me.  Any medical show I used to enjoy is now ruined by him telling that this isn't possible or that isn't accurate. 

Anyway, I'm keeping my head up.  I'm enjoying my new freedom to do what I want to do.  But I do miss sleeping with Mav; I do need someone warm to put my freezing feet on at night.

A Quiet Christmas

This was my first Christmas away from home, family and my dearest friends.  It was different.  I've never had a quiet Christmas before.  Mav has but I've always been the "off to grandmother's house we go" kind of girl.  Yeah, I was totally singing that song...

About 75% of me was excited to stay home.  I didn't have to worry about outrageous plane fares.  I didn't have to weigh my luggage a million times to make sure it was under 50 pounds.  No plane rides with a two year old!!  We didn't have to ask someone to drive us to the airport or to grab our mail.  I didn't have to try to fit everyone and everything into the short two week stay.  We didn't have to drag our two-year-old from one grandma's house to another in addition to two great grandmothers' houses.  Can you see why I was kind of excited to stay put this holiday season?  Stress free! 

Now.  What about the other 25% of me?  It misses home.  It misses our families.  It missed going to my grandma's house.  It missed feeding my horses their extra special treats on Christmas morning.  It missed the eggs and cheese casserole my dad makes every year.  It misses playing cards with my brothers.  It misses our friends.  It missed the snow.

I'm very appreciative of our quiet Christmas though.  I learned something from it.  During the quiet day, Mav and I both commented on how much we missed our families.  Oh.  How we missed them.  Christmas isn't about the gifts under the tree but rather it's about those who are around the tree with you.

OB Talk

Mav is on the OB rotation.  They have lunch conferences.  Last week, they were talking about yearly pelvic exams for women.

TEACHER:  How many of you are married?
Hands raised including Mav.
TEACHER:  How many of you go to your wives' yearly appointments?
A couple hands raised including Mav.
TEACHER:  How many of stay in the room while your wife is being examined?
MAV:  Last time, I did the exam...

The students and teacher laugh.

STUDENT:  He's joking, right?
STUDENT WHO KNOWS MAV:  No.  He's serious. 

Seriously.  Mav did do my pelvic exam last year.  One of my doctors suggested he learn on me first compared to some random standardized patient.  Whatever.  It's not the first time I've been his guinea pig. 

And more seriously, Mav will never pass up a chance like that to make everyone laugh.

YO-YO

I love breakfast.  It doesn't matter the time of day.  Breakfast is, by far, my favorite meal.  Waffles are my favorite food.  They have been since, well, forever.  My favorite breakfast memories are getting home way late from a rodeo with my dad.  While I was putting my horse away, my dad always made the two of us a fried egg sandwich.  We would then sit up and talk about ways for me to improve for the next rodeo.  Breakfast is simply awesome!

Mav doesn't think so.  To him, breakfast is only a morning meal.  10:29 AM is breakfast time.  10:30, lunch!  In five years of marriage, I have only made him eat breakfast for dinner, maybe five times. 

However, third year stopped all that.  I never knew when Mav would get home.  Some days it was four.  Others it was seven.  This crazy third year schedule wasn't working well but I tried to make it work.  I would hold off dinner as long as possible.  Squeak would eat a million fruit snacks while waiting for Mav.  I remember one night, Squeak was about to eat the million and one fruit snack and it was almost 6:30.  I broke.  I busted out breakfast.  Mav showed up at 6:40, just as dinner was being served.  He was weary of it and looked at me, "Breakfast?"  YES!  Breakfast!

My rule now: if Mav isn't home at five, he's YO-YO.  You're on your own!  

Three Words

THIRD...  YEAR...  BITES!!!

I know my neighbors (who are now first year residents) told me to enjoy the first two years.  But I don't believe they really warned me.  They told me, but they didn't send me a statement that indicates a possible or impending danger, problem, or other unpleasant situation.  They should have stood with a bright, flashing sign jumping and screaming at me, "Third year bites."  Now that's a warning.  

Mav is on OB.  He got home around 5:30 last night.  Studied.  Ate some dinner.  Helped put Squeaks to bed.  Studied some more before getting ready for bed himself.  

Today, was the first time in weeks that I woke up with Mav next to me.  But he left at 11:45 to get to work.  He'll be gone until about 11:30 tonight.  

Aside from naps, I won't be getting my me-time.  I'm pretty sure Squeaker will be watching a movie or two during the days, so I can study for my own schoolwork.