Because of a little snafu with a branch of the military last year, I ended up staying in The North for an extra year getting my master's degree instead of starting residency. Most days I have a pretty cheerful outlook on it. It may have taken me a month or so to get the outlook, but it's there now. There have been many challenging things about this situation. A medium sized one is the huge chunk of my friends who moved up, up, and away to start their residencies.
Two of my best friends, J. and C., are in Chicago and Portland, respectively. J and I promised to make a valiant attempt to get away together once a year. She is infinitely more valiant than I, and so gave up a week of her vacation to meet me in Portland. I gave up a week of studying and classes. It was quite a sacrifice, but it had to be done.
I think when you haven't seen someone in awhile, they freeze in your mind. You maintain a snapshot of the way they were the last time you saw them. That's why high school friends stay 18 and your great-aunt squeezes your cheek and tells you how much you've grown. It's also why I really dislike funerals, but I digress.
The last time I saw J was at her wedding last fall. My mental J was glowing and happy and beautiful. The J I saw in the airport was tired and happy and beautiful. Plus her hair was about six inches longer. We squealed and hugged and laughed as women are wont to do when they reunite.
It took me two days to place what it was that was different about her.
She's a doctor now.
She has developed that lovely confidence in her abilities and decisions that make patients believe that you know best. She's brilliant, of course, and that hasn't changed, and patients have always liked her. (It's rather difficult to dislike the girl.) But this...this is new. I love it and am horrifyingly proud of her. I am at the same time sad that I am missing out on a year of growing and developing as a physician. It's a strange place to be.
I think when you haven't seen someone in awhile, they freeze in your mind. You maintain a snapshot of the way they were the last time you saw them. That's why high school friends stay 18 and your great-aunt squeezes your cheek and tells you how much you've grown. It's also why I really dislike funerals, but I digress.
The last time I saw J was at her wedding last fall. My mental J was glowing and happy and beautiful. The J I saw in the airport was tired and happy and beautiful. Plus her hair was about six inches longer. We squealed and hugged and laughed as women are wont to do when they reunite.
It took me two days to place what it was that was different about her.
She's a doctor now.
She has developed that lovely confidence in her abilities and decisions that make patients believe that you know best. She's brilliant, of course, and that hasn't changed, and patients have always liked her. (It's rather difficult to dislike the girl.) But this...this is new. I love it and am horrifyingly proud of her. I am at the same time sad that I am missing out on a year of growing and developing as a physician. It's a strange place to be.
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