I Cried Today

A few months ago, I met up with a childhood friend. We had drifted a little apart over the years. I had moved out west, he went to seminary school in Massachusetts.  But we communicated every couple of months and I still counted him as one of my most trusted friends.

When he came into town for the Easter holiday, we made an effort to get together. It was the first time in almost ten years that we met face to face.

It started off great. We caught up on our daily lives (he's building a massive orthodox church in Vermont- I recounted my school application adventures) and then we talked philosophy. It had been a shared passion in high school-one that we'd both explored deeply since.

I minored in moral philosophy in college and absolutely love the intellectual sport of debate. We found ourselves discussing the continental rationalists and I argued Spinoza's work over Leibniz's. I joked that it was ridiculous that Leibniz couldn't comprehend infinite regression in his monadic theory but that he had no problem with it mathematically. After all, calculus is, in part, the study of infinite series.

Everything was going great, we had coffee, we laughed, we reminisced. I treasured that, despite our differences on the religion front- rather because of those differences, he offered an intelligent insightful world viewpoint. One that, as a scientist and atheist, I'm not often privy of. Most of my other friends hold similar views to my own.

Well. As our brunch wound up, he tried to save me, spiritually- that is.

I'm not a militant atheist. I hate that I'm labeled by what I don't believe in. I don't believe in many things- Santa, the toothfairy. I wouldn't like to be called adentemfatist. It seems another useless qualification.

I tend to be very shy about my lack of belief. I've seen how much comfort the sick, the dying and those left behind obtain through their beliefs. I saw how much it helps my grandmother to believe that she'll be with my mother again in the Catholic heaven.  It seems to me, that broadcasting my own thoughts to others would only result in being hurtful for them. In fact, I sometimes wish that I could acquire that same comfort. I miss my mom.  But I can't convince my rational mind that it exists. It's just not there.

And I can live my life, fulfilled, happy and with purpose without believing in god. I truly think that it is impossible to convince, with a rational argument, the rightness in a religious belief to someone who doesn't hold that belief.

Anyway. Suffice to say, our brunch did not end happily. I tried to explain that I wasn't going to change my mind and "let's celebrate the diversity our differences bring to the lives of each other".

He wouldn't have it. He told me that he couldn't truly trust someone who didn't believe in god.  And he dropped our friendship in the rubbish can on his way out.

Well, that hurt. All of my care in choosing: eating ethically, minimizing my carbon footprint, volunteering in underdeveloped countries, helping people, spending days helping to clean out his father's church after a flood, all negated in his mind because morality can't exist without a deity to police our behaviors.

Today, I received a call from the financial aid office of BCMS. They chose me as the recipient in my class of their *Service to Humankind* Scholarship. It's a huge huge honor and I'm floored and humbled and thrilled and sad. 

I cried because a big institution, one that doesn't yet know my heart, the responsibility I feel to people and the world, looked at my CV and talked to my interviewers and decided that of all the brilliant amazing and worthy 200 people in my class, that I -stupid, underachieving, insignificant me- most represented to them, a moral spirit. (which is totally weird btw- seriously? me? I'm going to school with Rhodes Scholars, people who organized major endeavors to help others, people who have accomplished so much more than I in much less time. Weird.)  But my 'friend', someone who had known me, my heart, my choices and actions for over two decades... Bah.

Sigh. I guess everybody has to deal with getting over toxic relationships at some point in their lives.  I'm just having a really hard time doing that today.

Settling In

So I've unpacked and organized all of my stuff.  The apartment is small and technically a studio (though there's an alcove between the entryway and the kitchen- meant to be a dining area- I made it into a little bedroom.) It's clean with high ceilings, beautiful floors and tons of light.  I'm thrilled knowing that I'll have at least four years here. I finally have a home.

The last three years have been tumultuous for me.  I spent most of 2009 in a strange city, surfing the couches of friends of friends. My mom had had a bilat lung transplant and it hadn't gone well. Long story short: she spent 4 months post op in the ccu, graduated to the step-down vent rehab unit, crashed, back in ccu for 5 months, stabilized, transferred to another strange city to a LTACH for 3 months. SIRS -> MODS then she died.  The summer before her transplant, I arranged to finish my final undergrad requirements online and moved from Seattle to the east coast to take over as her caregiver, POA and medical proxy. After her death, we put the house on the market. I stayed there to keep it up and make necessary improvements but I continued to live out of my suitcase, not knowing when I'd have to up and move.

When we finally sold the house, I moved into a tiny studio knowing that I'd be moving for school in 8 months. So it never really became home.

Now... I can plan things like my window sill herb garden and the tomato plants I'll grow over the winter.  I grew these from seed- the far lower pot was the coriander that hadn't survived the 900 mile journey.

I also have a separate desk from my dining table! I'm so excited that in just a few weeks, I won't have to pack up all of my study materials to have a meal!

I'm living in a vibrant beautiful stimulating city. I have a home. I'm going back to school!  I'm on my toes with anticipation and happiness. Ironically, these are the times that I most acutely feel the absence of my parents. I so wish I could share the excitement of my future with them.

On another positive note: My cousin Becks, the crack addict, went through rehab a few months ago and has completely turned his life around. He's doing fabulously. He's out of a toxic relationship, has a new job and is really stepping up as a dad. I'm so proud of him!

Beginnings

So. I am sitting in a cute little coffee shop in my new hometown. School starts in 19 days.  My family 'helped' me move. I'm never never letting them again! This is my 5th move of >1000miles but it was more stressful than all the others combined. It's so much easier to a) hire strangers to help load/unload b) organize it without the input of those who think they know best. 

In hindsight, I can't help but laugh but in the midst of it all I had wanted to cry. 

I'm loving my new little apartment and all the things to do around here. I can't wait though to get my teeth back into academics.  I've been footloose for too long and want some structure again.

The school emailed me the MS1 booklist and I'm trying very hard not to jump the gun. I've been averaging a 'fun book' a day in an effort to cram in a year's worth of pleasure reading before school starts. I think that I've overdosed though.  I've reached the bottom of my 'to read' pile and can't drum up the interest to find anything else for the next couple of weeks. Any suggestions out there in cyberworld?

I'm off to the zoo now.

Not The Destination But The Journey There...

I am currently 13 hours into a train ride to Big City. I am starting my apartment hunt. I decided take the train because it was so much cheaper than flying or driving and I have the time.  I’ve only ever been on Amtrak a handful of times and they all were over a decade ago and on the opposite coast. Though I’ve traveled rather extensively by rail in Europe and Asia, the mode had never been part of my own cultural vernacular and so domestic intercity train travel never really crosses my mind as an option when I decide to go somewhere.

I think that is going to be changing. I’ve really enjoyed myself.  The entire process, from check in, the trip itself and leaving has been hassle free. I went through no crazy security check points, I could pack snacks AND DRINKS for the trip and I’m going to just step off the train and walk into the city.

There’s an old proverb that states “If time matters, and of course it does, take a plane: If time is even more important, go by ship.”

This train is my ship today. I love that distance traveled to Big City is part of my journey and not just an interruption.  I can stand, walk, meander to the dining car and have a glass of wine. I’ve interacted with a group of nuns, a family of Mennonites and the two potheads talking about volunteering at Lollapalooza next August.

The cars have wifi (Awesome!) and people just seem friendlier and more helpful. Maybe it’s the overall relaxed atmosphere. Anyhow, I think that I’ll take it.

Hometown Blues

The greater metropolitan population of my hometown is about 200,000.

There are over 90 bars, all of which serve the same house wine, domestic tap beer and have the same smoky dingy interior. There is one bookstore: Barnes and Noble- also the only free wifi location in town.

The male-female ratio is about 76:100.  Median income is 18,000 and 25% of the population lives in poverty.

The political tone is strongly republican and no one that I've talked to cares that the best gym at the local Y is men only.  After all, I'm such a feminist.

The average driver's age is 59.

There is a local racetrack and 2 movie theaters.  There are no art galleries.

A nurse on U8, one of the few who was interested in more than getting married and having babies, was after me for weeks to get together. Finally, we had a common day off and made plans.

I was thrilled to finally share conversation. She didn't show up. She sent me a text message the next morning telling me how sorry she was but a friend showed up in town unexpectedly.

Now, a week later, she acts as though we are best buddies, girl-flirting with me at work and constantly playing with my hair. I ignore it.  My resentment towards her is minor. Rather I resent that this stifling, backwaters town has so lowered my standards for friendship.  I miss my wonderful, interesting, reliable Seattlite friends.

She asked me if I was going to be sad on my last day next week and I laughed at her.

I hate this town and, now that my family is mostly gone, can hardly wait til I'm gone.

Matriculation

I passed my background check.  Though I didn’t have much rational doubt, I confess that I was terrified that somehow that check that I bounced when I was 16 had somehow snowballed into a felony that, unknowingly, had chased me for 15 years. It’s a relief that the federal government doesn’t care about my teenage irresponsibility. Whew.

I’ve withdrawn from most of my acceptances. I’m holding out on one though.  I know that I want to go to BCS but I hesitate to withdraw from town Podunk because ‘what if there’s a mistake?’ What if I withdraw from one and my financial aid doesn’t come through or I mistook the other’s offer and they didn’t really accept me? It’s safer having two places to go.

What if I mess up somehow on the stupid convoluted crazy-ass paperwork that they require?

I’m thinking about that student that’s on the waiting list and hoping desperately that she gets accepted. I want to give her that chance because waiting sucks. I was fortunate enough to know before Christmas but it wasn’t soon enough. I just can’t send that withdraw notice because what if it’s a mistake?

Countdown

It's the homestretch of my life at U8; tonight marked shift 10 in my countdown. I'm thrilled to be moving on and immersing myself in school but terrified at the idea of being unemployed for four years and intimidated by how hard medical school is going to be. What if I'm not disciplined enough?

In wonderful circular serendipity, one of my all time favorite patients, a friendly inspirational and endearing character is back for my last weeks.  I worked with him at the start of my time here and now I get to say goodbye. It's the perfect end to my clinical interactions and a great memory to tide me over until I get back to the floors in two years.

I decided to go to the big city medical school (BCMS).  I was vacillating between the two for months and had decided on small-town nearby because I convinced myself that my quality of life would be better there. (family pressure may have been a factor)

Then BCMS offered me an amazing scholarship thus giving me the freedom to acknowledge that I would be happier in the program and in the city. It was enough to topple even the strongest objections to the choice. Hooray!!

I'm going to the city next month to look for an apartment.  I'm so excited for this summer!