R3 and Hope

I have survived my second year of residency! The toughest most exhausting most soul destroying year there is. Part of me feels numb in disbelief, the other part nervous about the new expectations of me, but mostly, I feel hopeful. There's less call, more sleep, more awareness of the substance of life. I write after a sleepless night at The Baby Mill, but despite eyeball-stinging tiredness, I had fun. I had a blast catching wrinkly pink babies, sloshing out twins at that STAT stat C-section, popping a bloodvessel and my wrist bones in the exertion it took to pull up that low low head from the pelvis. Joking with the nurses, rolling my eyes with the attendings, reassuring patients... it felt like something I could do in the future.

Over the past year I've wondered how I've changed, how the 'system' has shaped me, dehumanized me, desensitized me and overall discouraged me. At times I lost sight of people. I stopped treating them as I would my best friend, my mom or my quirky cousin and started seeing them as illnesses and things on my 'to do' list. Now something has somehow reverted back to the Sheona I used to be. With feelings, goals and passion. Its refreshing. Hopeful even.