That morning, I awoke to one simple sentence in my inbox that threw my well-intentioned plans and imaginations for the next 4 - to 30 - years to the wayside.  I realized that the lacquered door I had been knocking at for months until my knuckles bled had always been bolted shut.  When I finally turned away in cold clarity, I was shocked to find right beside it a door open ajar just enough for me to slip through.

Yes, it hurts that my best - truly, my best - was not enough and that I was last pickings, a theme that I may never escape from.  It's hard not to feel like all this time, energy, money, and tears were wasted.  It's shameful that I was the only one who believed I was suited for my dream.  With bitter gratitude, I know that I am being protected from the future that I could never anticipate.  This I know, that I can trust that there's more to the story.

So, I'm still at the threshold and haven't taken my shoes off yet, but it's warm in here.  Voices I don't recognize yet are calling me in.  Soft music is playing around the corner, and there are big windows that let in the light and the breeze.  It's now that I realize deep down what my feeble prayers have been asking - for some place to finally be like home.  For a place where I can be myself, and be at peace.  To one live fully, without having to sacrifice other precious parts of myself or parts of my forever.  For somewhere I can grow roots, where there's room for someone else to grow with and alongside me.  That's all I want.

A simple talk about my pursuit of OBGYN turned into sharing of faith and the other person's recent struggles with miscarriage.  His story was so poignant, and reminded me why I wholeheartedly chose the field.  I remembered the joys in the simple and the profound, and the struggles that I had discovered the heart to bear.  And yet, this moment scare me, because it re-kindled my passion.  As of late I had been coming to terms - even becoming content - with the idea of ending up in another specialty if I went unmatched.  I worry that if it's not meant to be, that I won't be able to tame down those flames while I'm on another path, and that I might always be looking back.

What I want to say to the gunner on auditions...

-  Adipose tissue looks glittery really close up, I remind myself as I compulsively snack on the weekly potlucks in the lounge.

-  My ideal surgery playlist would consist of BIGBANG, Spice Girls, and Jason Mraz.


-  That awful moment when you need to use the bathroom in the middle of a case.  And the sneaky feeling of relief when you realize no one can hear (or smell) farts in there.


-  As a med student, it is a privilege to be assigned to "bowel duty."


-  As is my luck, I only run into the hot doctor at times when I look most like a wrinkly blue mushroom.

Maybe I'm superstitious or whimsical or am able to make connections and a thesis about anything, but I really do believe in signs.  There are happy coincidences, and every once in awhile luck, and then there are moments that are just so directed to the unanswered or even un-asked questions in your heart that you just have to fully soak them in and etch them into your soul as a roadmap.  I don't think God is as silent as they say, especially if His heart is your mirror.  He likes to amaze us.

Tonight was the perfect ending to my 6 weeks of Family Med.  After all the missed chances I finally got to help deliver a perfectly healthy boy to two wonderful people who couldn't have loved each other more and who are going to love their son.  I got to see the awesome power that woman was designed to have to bring life, strength that she doesn't even realize she has.  And as the radio played "Mary Did You Know?" on the way home, reminded how Jesus came to us just the same way to give the ultimate gift only He could give.

Every day in clinic you see life and all the twists it can turn, but it would be a waste to always be waiting for the next destination and forget how full the present is.  I don't want to forget myself.  I want to grow, not change.  I want to find home by making a home - one of these days.

I don't know what 2017, or 2018, or the rest of the future holds, but I know my heart and when it is being pulled and I know when God is nodding, saying that 'This is good.'  With the audacity to be hopeful, I pray that these moments are reminders of His promises.

Prayed with a patient for the first time today.  Not sure if it was exactly allowed (but don't think it's not allowed either?) but it seemed like she really needed it and she had faith, so I offered.  She was the type of patient who no matter what you tried, you would just be going in circles.  Nothing could really be done for her unless her spirit stopped hurting.  In her case, it was the most important part of her symptoms.

As emotionally challenging this rotation has been, there are still little moments that show me the beauty and humanity of it.  Today, as I was sifting through the various disjointed electronic charts, I came across a small piece of information that might offer some comfort to the patient.  Immediately, she started crying - out of relief - and got just one more moment of peace in what seemed like a lifetime of sadness.  She was already on her way to getting better, but it wasn't just the meds - it was everyone around her that showed her that she was worth something, that they would not dismiss her, and that they cared.

It's only day 2 of my outpatient psychiatry rotation, and my heart already hurts.  Not in a bad way per se, but I just want to hug each patient and shout out how much they are still loved.  How much there is still hope, and that it's never too late.  The good news.  But that's not my place, nor would it be helpful for them, and I know that in reality most people will not acknowledge God.  How can you tell someone living in a personal Hell that there's a deep rooted joy to be had?  I am told that the best we can do is to show them love and a safe place, but for me, it is withholding love if I am not able to share with them the truth that has the power to save them?  How am I to simply allude to and metaphorize Jesus?

I am the type of (future) doctor that wants things fixed, or at least resolved, and this is one area where we don't know how to fix things and only know how to mask them.  It is hard to see how much people have been deprived of love from their very beginning, how toxic legacies are continuing to perpetuate, and how difficult it is to break that cycle.  That scared child becomes embedded in a person's core that cannot simply be undone.  I feel so fortunate that my upbringing was whole and safe, but because my heart keeps screaming "This should not be so," it is as if I am not thick-skinned enough, or too naive, or that my softness is not how the "real world" works.  Basically they would say, "If you suffered as much as I have, you would not believe in God either."

As for the religion that my preceptor follows, I cannot help but see it as a search for numbness, and an escape from the precious gift that is now, and that there actually is always an unattainable goal leading to restlessness.  While it may help some people cope, they aren't being genuinely healed.  They are only finding peace in nothingness, and that is not life lived abundantly.

On the drive home, "Good, Good Father" played on the radio and the words rang so true - "I've seen many searching for answers far and wide, but I know we're all searching for answers only You provide."  I can't deny their suffering, but I pray that their hearts will turn and seek to be truly known.

It's my birthday today, and I know that I want to stay soft for the rest of my life.

Every day is a testament to this quote:

"Be kinder than necessary, because everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle." - J.M. Barry 

The other day I met a woman whose guilt about her "sin" of obesity was preventing her from undergoing life saving surgery.  Apparently she was not a necessary referral to the hematology clinic.  The doctor had to leave the room for a moment to take a call, so I tried to use that urgent moment to get the patient to open up more; as she was able to let things out, including the core of her struggles with the issue, I was able to share with her my understanding about addiction not just being "in your head," and wasn't just a matter of lack of willpower, and was not just "her fault."  What I should have added, now that I think about it, was that sin often is sin because it hurts others, but sometimes it's because it hurts us.  Sin is supposed to kill us, yes, but it doesn't have to, because there is a way out.  We are allowed to ask for help, regardless of whether we deserve saving or not.  Anyway, by the end of the brief visit, I believe I saw the click of a switch in her eyes, and it was really amazing.

Passed the Anatomy final!  Also got an A in Clin Skills without studying, and did pretty well in OPP too.

... Now onto three more killer tests tomorrow.

Study break - mini crying session.  Then you just have to move on and keep at it.

It gets a little darker.

-  "Pain is the weakness leaking out of you."

- "Now everyone with lower back pain thinks they have pancreatic cancer."

- "Want some almonds?"
- "Why aren't you eating any?  Did you sprinkle them with botulism?"

- "LigaMENtum venOsum" *swish and flick with the probe* = always relevant

sigh.

Med school life can be funny sometimes too.  Some quotes from my classmates and teachers:

- "I haven't even had time to pluck my eyebrows!!"

- "You're like Hermione."
- "Oh yeah?  LevAtor scapulARum!"

- "I'm not going to stand up on the stage.  I don't think any of you are qualified to save my life yet."

- (Sarcastically, in regards to abstract OMM technique): "As I feel your shoulder, I can tell that your kidney is rotated right and sidebent left.  Let me press your forehead to fix that."

Random things people say can resonate and stick with you for a long time, especially if those people are those you really respect, and are where you professionally want to be far into the future.

- On death:  "Each patient's life is ultimately in God's hands.  I am simply given the opportunity to help as I can, and I can have peace with that."

- On listening:  "A patient's story can help solve the puzzle at the very last minute."

- On studying:  "I'm not very smart, I just worked very hard.  My motto was, Every day is exam day."

- On this path:  "Don't ever let anyone make you feel lesser for doing osteopathic medicine.  All my DO colleagues are excellent.  You're in a rare position to change people's lives, and that's the best reward."

- On medical school:  "Your health comes first.  Stress can kill you - literally.  I had a classmate who took pills to help him study, and one day he just didn't wake up.  There's no time for a relationship.  Throughout med school, I wore a wedding ring.  Said I already had two kids.  All the girls came to me with boyfriend problems - I became their counselor!  My (now) wife was the only one who found out I was lying, so she got me."