(One of those annoying moments in my life) In which I try to define myself
I guess there's no helping who you're going to be sometimes. You can direct somewhat what you end up enjoying, but in the end, it's hard to deny where you fit into the puzzle of the world. Sometimes I wish I were less directed-- more of a free spirit and less like an arrow tied to a destination. Sometimes I wish that I could just wander the world, learn Spanish, live simply, and take care of people's everyday needs. And then I think of the growingly familiar feel of the OR, with the clunk-clunk-clunk of the OR lights going on and the quiet steady beep-beep of the patient's heartbeat. Sterile blues and baggy gowns and the leftover smell of iodine and Biogel gloves on my hands. Scrubs that never fit and the steady predictable snaps of hemostats and needle drivers, heavy German metal in my hands- the satisfaction of pulling suture and seeing clefting flesh pull together neatly into a perfectly approximated line.
"It hit me like a rock," Dr. Wallace had said, "I think it has to come to you that way."
A rock? I realized when I started grasping at OR time, as if the rest of my time was spent underwater and I had to come up for air. I used to hate it: all the standing, all the not-being-able-to-see. But damn, it's awesome once you actually get to do or see anything.
"Forget all of your problems; I'm going to fix just this one." It's a mantra I can live with.
"It hit me like a rock," Dr. Wallace had said, "I think it has to come to you that way."
A rock? I realized when I started grasping at OR time, as if the rest of my time was spent underwater and I had to come up for air. I used to hate it: all the standing, all the not-being-able-to-see. But damn, it's awesome once you actually get to do or see anything.
"Forget all of your problems; I'm going to fix just this one." It's a mantra I can live with.