Sorry for the lack of consistent blogging down the home stretch. Was spending far too much of my free time hoarding medical supplies before they deactivate my ID. Do you know what you can get for mini-bottles of hand sanitizer on the black market? If anyone needs band-aids, e-mail me, I'll send you some. It must have been amazing when they let pharmaceutical companies market to residents. For a pen or two, I think I'd prescribe just about anything to anyone.
I imagine it takes a while to sink in. Like an indentured servant getting his freedom. What do you do when no one is making you work 28 hours in a row? What are two-day weekends like? What are one-day weekends like? What is it like to be able to make someone else write notes on your patients? What does it feel like to sleep every night in your own bed, instead of a stained, mildewed mattress on a rusty set of springs in a roach-infested call room, sharing a bathroom with a psych patient who is in the middle of his long-planned escape? What does it mean to have underlings who listen to you?
Before we could leave, one final scavenger hunt as we were required to collect a dozen signatures from various administrators verifying that we'd returned our white coats, didn't have any overdue library books, given back our pagers, emptied our lockers, and not smuggled out any adorable elderly patients. It was the first time I'd been in the library since orientation, with everything online. I didn't even know we were allowed to check out books. I had an end-of-year review where I was told one patient requested a different doctor because I seemed like I was in a rush. I remember that patient. He was three hours late to his appointment, he was tacked on to the end of my schedule, and, guess what-- I was in a rush!
24 hours of "vacation" until fellowship. What should I do with all of this luxurious, responsibility-free time on my hands? Maybe I'll nap. Napping sounds good. Showering, napping, taking a couple of alcohol wipes and rubbing down everything I've touched in the past three years. Catching up on about three thousand unread e-mails-- I think I have a couple of Groupons to spend before they expire.