Reih7’s Weblog

Easy day today. I got out at 9:00 (am!), and hit the gym, then read for a few hours. Went to get blood drawn, went to lecture. I sat there in a daze, sort of hungry and light headed, wondering if this is what I wanted to do with my life.

Was freaking out too much about the whole situation so took myself shopping and bought new gym shorts and some groceries. Also got a fucked up iPod car thing that I spent $14 on just so I could hear a staticy version of Death Cab blast through the worn speakers of my ghetto mobile. Honestly, there’s a certain joy that comes from driving around on 50-degree days, windows down and heat blasting while you play your favorite music. It must be a midwest thing.

Came home, ate, ate some more, wondered what the hell was wrong with me. Tried to research away rotations then realized that all the dates were off at the programs I wanted to go to and that I better get SOME applications in or I really would be a total failure. I worry (a lot) that this whole residency application thing is gonna pass me by and I’m gonna be like “Psht, whatever” and just…like…forget to apply! The whole not-wanting-to-get-out-of-bed thing this morning isn’t like me…neither is academic apathy. I can’t handle this.

Changed into PJs and thought I’d check my blood labs before I went to sleep. Mistake of the world. Saw my liver enzymes are bumped and the word ‘hepatitis’ popped into my head. Called Poopy.

“Hey, what’s up”, I said when he picked up, my voice tired after resting all day.

“What’s wrong??” It’s the first thing he says, picking up on the subtle change in my voice.

“Ha…no-thing..”

“Oh my god, seriously, what’s wrong”

I laugh. “I know, I’m a shitty liar today” I finish pouring water into the coffee pot and walk back to the computer. I explained how I got labs done and how my liver enzymes are up and how I’m worried about heptatitis now and beyond all that, I tell him about my striking apathy about everything. For him this isn’t news…he INVENTED apathy. This boy sleeps till 2:00 and calls it early. It drove me crazy when we were together, and now I get back at him with 7:00 am wake up calls to tell him the birds are chirping and it’s a fucking beautiful day outside. Really, for me to not want to do this is…new. Beyond just unusual. It feels like someone has poured tar into my brain and I can’t seem to think about the future. I can’t even make a fucking decision about what specialty I want to go into! Jesus I’m a mess.

Anyways.

I tell him all this and he listens and asks questions trying to sort it out. He asks, “Do you think if your health was better you’d be able to concentrate on this residency stuff?”. I pause. Yes. Yes I definately do. It isn’t as if these doctor’s appointments are taking up that much time or anything, but it makes me FEEL sick. It makes me feel weak. And I honestly start to question whether or not I want to go into a specialty where you have to work your ass of. Can I even handle it? Or should I do something easier? “Psht, you should do something easier regardless of your health,” he says, “Why would you do something with more work!”.

This from Mr. I’m-a-partner-at-a-hedge-fund-and-sleep-2-hours-a-night. He’s just trying to be funny, to make me feel better, but I’m not in the mood. He says: You’re just finishing this thing off! This is the end of all the stuff that happend to you!…but it’s not. My bones are thin already and I’ll have vertebral fractures by the time I’m 40. This fucked up knee will STAY fucked up, and now…now who knows what badness has happened to my liver and other parts of my body. 

“Well, there’s nothing you can do now!” He’s getting on my nerves now. I don’t yell. Yes I could do something. I could go on bisphosphonates, which is what I’m going to the doctor to discuss tomorrow. The drawback is that I can’t have kids. Or rather, I can, but they’ll be all fucked up so I’d prefer not to for both of our sakes.

“Oooh…so you can’t have kids. Well, there you go.” His tone has a light finality that only someone with a penis could have. “I mean, can’t you just freeze one of your eggs or something before you take that medicine?”

Yeah. Yeah I could just freeze one of my eggs. I’m too tired to get all riled up. For maybe the third time in the 10 years we’ve known each other I brush it off. “Yeah. Anyways. I’m gonna go to sleep”, I whisper, and listen to the silence on the other end for a full 5 seconds before hanging up the phone. I know my lack of fight makes more of a statement than anything I could have said at full volume.

This. Sucks.