Hey look! I just found this blog after a lengthy hiatus!

 Wow.  So uh, that was a while ago, that last update.  Like, 13+ years ago.

Hi internetland!  Let's not pretend anyone is reading this anymore.  It's more a vanity project for my own edification at this point.  It's a nice way to record little snippets of my day to day, so I can look back on them and be glad I'm not quite such an insufferable twit anymore.

Or maybe I'm just insufferable in other ways now.  Ah growth!

So I am now a practicing rheumatologist.  Have been for 8 years.  Have my own office and parking spot and everything.  Very responsible.  I love my job and most of the things in my day to day routine...though the medical system definitely leaves a lot to be desired.  I am fortunate to be cushioned from a lot of the issues by virtue of being a subspecialist and also the program director, which gives me an additional hat to wear and learners to teach.  Working with students, it's hard not to let their optimism rub off on you.

I have a daughter who is nearly 13.  Grade 8 this year.  Quirky and weird and delightful and marching to the beat of her own drum.  She is much cooler than I ever was, but she puts up with her parents admirably.  She plays board games and stardew valley and even D & D with us and my cup is very full as a result.

I remain happily married to my amazing husband of 14 years, who also plays board games and stardew valley and D & D and who is always waiting at home with a snack after a long day.  We have a solid group of friends and a busy social calendar and have a good mix of activities both together and apart.  Balance, really.

Do I continue?  Meh.  That's a good start for an update.  Let's see if I come back again with more before the next decade rears its head.

Developments: an understatement.

Okay people. I have been ignoring this blog for long enough. I haven't meant to, but somehow there are always infinite other things that need to take precedence over keeping a fragmented journal of my life. This is too bad, because there will be many, many times in the future that I'll want to look back on this period (or so people tell me)...and it will be hard to do without some kind of documentation.

So here it is. In a haphazard, not particularly chronological, gap-filled way.

I am pregnant.
I'm pretty sure everyone reading this already knows that fact. (I'm pretty sure there's no one reading this anyways.)
Finding out I was pregnant was one of those moments that get completely seared into your brain. I was on my Rheumatology rotation. It was a Friday. I'd had a little bit of spotting a few days previously (which part of me was trying to jump on as am implantation bleed, but the rest of me was actively denying). My boobs had recently started KILLING me. My period was 24 hours late.
So I took an at home pregnancy test. For like the 20th time since Jord and I got married. Every one has been negative, I was doubting my fertility, part of me wanted to cry every time I got my period.
This one was positive.
I sat there in the bathroom, clutching this peice of plastic, my cat winding around my ankles, with Jord in the next room watching TV, and started shaking.
I remember staring at the test, and then at myself in the mirror, and I started crying. Shaking and crying and grinning all at the same time. My heart was racing, I broke out in a sweat. I was pregnant.
I stumbled out into the next room and somehow told Jord. I don't remember how, I just remember how hard it was to stay coherent, how I couldn't stop shaking, and how much I needed to be held. I don't remember his reaction at all...how bad is that? the biggest moment of our married lives thus far and it's all a blur. But he held me like I needed, as eventually the shaking stopped. I couldn't decide whether to be terrified or exhilarated...

Then my pager went off.
So I shoved all this new stuff into the background and drove to St Pauls to see a consult. Then I bought another pregnancy test, just to double check.
Positive again.

Then I called my parents, my siblings, Jord's parents. We were all of 2 weeks, still high risk for miscarriage, but I couldn't keep it in. There was too much emotion involved, I had to dilute it by spreading it around to everyone.
Then I did some reading and found out that this pregnancy was by no means a sure thing. And every day started to be a new challenge. Every twinge I felt was a harbinger of pending abortion. Every morning I expected to see blood in the bowl.
But it never happened.

Other stuff did. Nausea, for example. That definately happened (is still happening). Sore boobs, emotional instability, bleeding gums, fatigue, odd cravings and aversions...all that happened. I got fat...and not in the "you look pregnant" way, more like in the "lay off the chips already" way. My pants don't fit, my bras don't fit, my shirts don't fit. My skin is going nuts. My bowel habits do not bear thinking about, suffice to say there's nothing habitual about them anymore. I'm constantly thirsty and constantly peeing. I get dizzy often, which adds to the nausea. I am demanding and irritable, and capable of extreme stupidity (I forgot the word "arm" the other day).
I guess I should be miserable. (And so should Jord.)
But last monday, I went for a prenatal appointment with my doctor. She pulled out the doppler and suggested we try to listen to the baby's heartbeat. Part of me was sure we wouldn't find it, that something had gone wrong and we just didn't know about it yet (horror stories of missed abortions abound). But she put the probe on my belly, fiddled around for a few seconds, and there it was. The most amazing sound in the world, quick and regular, punctuated by little wooshing noises (she tells me that's the baby moving it's limbs around), with my own, slower heartbeat playing counterpoint in the background.

I am going to be a mom.

Ode to Regina

So part of the requirements for my residency program is a 6 weeks stint in Regina. This is one of those things where, when you’re reading over the syllabus for the year, you wince inwardly, shrug, and tell yourself you’ll deal when it comes to it. Then you spend a lot of time ignoring the fact that it is looming ever closer. Then one day you wake up and realize you have to get into your car, with your various accoutrements, and without either your new husband or your stress-reliever cat, and drive several hundred kilometers to go work in a hospital in a city you’ve never been to (but have heard about…and mostly not in a “gee, sounds like a swell place” kinda way) while staying in a sparsely furnished res apartment on a campus which is packed with people roughly a decade younger than you.
I may just need to vent a little bit.
Okay, depressing issue number one: I got myself all married and stuff like 3 months ago (not even), got myself all moved in and stuff like 2.5 months ago, and finally got myself feeling like I’d made this new home, heck, new life, complete about 4 weeks ago. I had routines, people I knew, teams I’d joined, preferred liquor outlets I’d frequented. After a time of the most extreme upheaval I’d ever known, I was finally settled. And then they sent me to Regina. I’m only here for 6 weeks, so the urge to do that all over again…pretty much nil. Plus I miss Jord something awful.
Number 2: did I mention the campus packed full of randy drunken teenagers? It bears repeating. I arrived during Frosh week. FROSH WEEK, people! I thought I liked university kids, I remember liking my time in Rez, heck, I loved frosh week…when I was nineteen. Now, at twenty-eight, not so much. And everyone is in full-on social mode, so I have to have these stupid conversations with people I could care less about in elevators, while standing in line, even walking across campus with my headphones on. Oh god, shoot me. Just let me be my antisocial self and get through these weeks with my head down and my sanity intact.
Also, my very first day here I was on call, and got NO sleep. Then, postcall, trying to nap in my horribly stuffy 6th floor dorm room (the windows don’t open, ostentatiously to prevent jumpers, but also possibly to prevent me from throwing my desk at the loud drunks who parade by continuously at night) I was awakened by some throbbing bass. K-os had decided to have a concert, right outside my window, starting at 1 in the afternoon and going on until about 5, at which point the drunk people came out and started yelling and took over the noisemaking duties.
Number 3: my apartment is a four bedroom thing, and the only occupied room is mine. While the department of medicine has seen fit to provide us with cooking utensils and dishes etc, but not a TV. Also, my internet is not working, something which seems to utterly confuse tech support. So…I’m just ever so slightly bored. I have been burning through books, studying, attempting to run in the 30 degree heat, but I still find myself with significant chunks of time in which I get to wallow in self pity.

It’s not all bad. Regina is surprisingly pretty. My fellow residents here are all very nice and we go out to dinner every week or so. I get to go home to Saskatoon on weekends…mostly. And the more time I spend here, the less alienated I feel.

But I still can’t wait to get home.

As an Aside:

You know what I think I like best about being on call? Being post-call. Right now this means I am at home early on a beautiful Friday morning, with the weekend stretching before me (though I'm on call again on Sunday), with the apartment to myself because Jord is still soundly asleep. This means I now get to do a whole lot of my favourite things all at once!

I get to crack open my new book, lovingly scrounged from one of Saskatoon's wonderful used book stores.
I get to drink a whole pot of earl grey vanilla tea with lots of cream and sugar.
I get to listen to the new Imogen Heap, Arctic Monkeys, and Matisyahu albums.
I get to cuddle up with Moe on the couch while doing all of the above (he's a rewarding little thing to come home to, because he loves cuddling in the morning) in our beautiful livingroom, with the sun streaming down outside.
And in a little while, I get to go in and wake my husband up so we can start our day. Probably with waffles.

Bliss.

Musings on a non-take call shift following consumption of excessive caffeine.

I think I like being on call.

This is not to say that I don't actively dread my upcoming call shifts on those days when I'm not on call. I always pity to unlucky resident who has to stay overnight on a Friday when the rest of us get to go home and gambol/frolic/caper our way into the weekend.

But I find that I enjoy actually BEING on call. I like the hospital late at night. There's practically no one around, and you can wander the halls randomly. No one looks at you funny when you buy nothing but vending machine junk food for dinner. You don't have to elbow people aside to get access to the computers. Nurses look at you with joy because you're generally arriving to help them with something they've specifically asked you about, not to pester them because Mr Z's urinalysis still has not been done and you feel obligated to review it.

I feel much more useful when I'm on call. All those patients who are just sitting in hospital, waiting to go to long term care, fade into the background, and the really exciting (terrifying) acute ones all come to the fore.

Tonight I have, in no particular order, a 90-ish lady with congestive heart failure and chronic renal failure who bounces between pulmonary edema and complete oliguria, a 40 something man who is dying, not of the cancer he was brought into hospital with, but of the fungus which has settled in his brain due to the chemo (well, and the cancer) which has killed his immune system, a 70-something gentleman who looks like Santa and who keeps having copious bloody bowel movements and needing blood, and an 80-ish woman who will not wake up, and for the life of me I cannot figure out why.

And while it is definately likely that one or more of these people will have a difficult time getting through the night, I find it very satisfying to rise to each challenge and (hopefully) avert the crises as they come. Being on call doesn't mean you fix anything permanently...most of these people need specialized interventions I just can't provide. It means you walk the fine line needed to keep patients going until the next morning.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some bloodwork to go check.

Okay, let's try this again.

So, to summarize things: I got accepted into the internal med program out here in Saskatoon, then I moved here in a giant u-haul truck with my then-fiancee, then I went back to Victoria and got married with all my family and friends in attendance, and then we moved back to Saskatoon (semi) premanently so that I could work. Everyone on the same page? Good.



We've been here for a month and a half now (time flies, seriously) and I have to admit I am kind of loving this city. It helps that we're in a fantastic location, a five minute walk from the shops and theaters and pubs on Broadway and the big box and grocery stores on 8th, ten minute bike from the beautiful grounds at the University of Saskatchewan and the banks of the river, and fifteen minute bike from downtown. We've done a pretty good job of seeing the sights this summer so far...it helps that my mother and Jordan's parents have been out to visit. There's more reason to get out and see stuff when the alternative is entertaining at home.

This city sure does love summer...there are festivals (yes, often plural) every weekend! I can't keep up with them all and so far have really only done the Fringe and the Taste of Saskatchewan. I have big plans to go to the Ex, however (the giant summer fair). All this revelry makes me a bit nervous...it's like everyone is breathing a huge sigh of relief between winters. I guess we'll see how bad it gets in a couple of months.

Work is...work. It's a wierd combination of thrilling and soul-crushing and I often go from feeling competent and intelligent to wondering why they ever let me into med school in a span of minutes. I've seen some pretty aweful things in my month here, but I've also seen some stuff that makes me glad I chose medicine. I'll probably share some of the more vivid stories eventually, but for now we'll leave things vague.

I am very much enjoying married life. I have to admit I was a bit concerned about moving in with Jord, because we've never lived together and I wasn't sure how our preferred environments would mesh. It's been pretty seamless so far. It helps that he's still looking for work, so he gets to do all the chores and cleaning and I get to reap the benefits. It'll be a bit more hassle when I actually have to help out. But so far our little family is flourishing...Moe has even become an outdoor cat in our very quiet suburban neighbourhood. He defends his turf with great zeal. We'll see what he makes of the snow.

So...enough summarizing? Neither witty nor earth-shattering...but this is a foundation post more than anything else. Now I can start spinning the real interesting stuff!

I'm back?

So there have been a couple of requests that I return to updating my blog. You know, so people can tune in and find out what is going on in my admittedly thrilling life. Sadly, computer access at the hospital is limited so my updates will mostly have to happen from home. And those I manage here will be brief.
And ironically, my pager has just gone off. So adieu for now, but stay tuned for updates soon!

Almost one year later.

Well, if it isn't my old blog! It's sort of sad to think that I don't write in this thing anymore, and that, odds are, I will continue to abstain. This used to be a great place to vent, and keep people up to date on my life doings. Sadly, I've lost touch with most of the people who once read this, and my new acquaintances are all in my geographic area, so I don't have much use for this little cranny of the internet. However, I will be moving again shortly (i.e. 5-6 months from now), and maybe it will be a useful transitional tool at that point in time.

What's new? Well, I am five months away from being a doctor. This is exciting, obviously, being the final fruit of so many years of labor. Also, it will be the beginning of a time of my life in which I will begin to finally make some money. Granted, residency doesn't pay that much, and I'll be trying to dent the massive pile of debt I've accumulated for the first few years, but it's still exciting. I'm planning on doing Internal Medicine, which is endlessly fascinating to me and has a lot of possible branch points. So who knows, maybe I'll focus in on the heart, or the gut, or the kidneys...time will tell. It's a nice way to continue to keep my ultimate options open for a bit longer.

And also, I am engaged. This is exciting too, for slightly different reasons. The date is in six months. So this is a big time for me in a couple of ways. I will admit to being slightly terrified, but mostly I'm thrilled. I have no idea how I will make it through the next few months, and even less how I will make it through the months after that. But at least I will get to do it with an emminently capable man. So whatever happens, it will be an adventure, and guaranteed fun.

So enough. Maybe I'll start reposting in this blog when I've moved and started my almost 100% new life. Till then, who knows?