I love my job, I love my job, I love my job

Remember learning how to ride a bike? I don’t, not really anyway.

What about learning how to do long division?


Pulmonary physiology? (I don’t know that I ever really learned this the first time through. Dr. Thornburg, we still miss you!)

I ran into Dr. Ciment at the Body Worlds exhibit this year. He was the anatomy course director from first year of med school; and I was a teaching assistant for his anatomy lab as a fourth year student. “My, you were a high-strung med student. You were quite enjoyable to work with, but you were a handful. You really lightened up by fourth year!”

I didn’t have the heart to tell him I’m a first year all over again. I feel wound even more tightly than four years ago. Though I love my job so much more now. (The current first year students are studying for their last biochemistry exam–my job is *so* much better than theirs! And technically I have an income now, as opposed to an outcome, although that’s only because I’m in forbearance on my loans…)

But it’s a brand new learning curve.

In family medicine, it also feels a lot like third year: so far I’ve done rotations in rural surgery, obstetrics, family medicine, the neonatal ICU, sports medicine, internal medicine, and now family medicine again, and I go to Doernbecher for pediatrics next month.

I am hopeful that as I progress through residency, I’ll breathe better, laugh easier, and be an overall positive force. I can’t guarantee to talk any less, but I hope to aim my words a little slower, more concise, more informed, and easier to receive.

It really comes down to the following: Several years ago I attended a community mental health providers meeting. The icebreaker for the evening (it’s primary care–of course there’s an icebreaker!) was to tell two truths and a lie, and the group had to guess which was which. The circle came around to one of the physicians at Outside In. She said:

“I love my job, I love my job, I love my job.”