2009. The year I finally finish medical training. The year that everything just turns out right, hopefully. The year I supposedly enter my thirties. I’ll be taking a rain-check.
It has been a miserable start. I’ve been on service since mid-December and it has been crazy busy. I thought the holiday season would mean less scheduled surgeries, therefore less surgical complications such as infections, and therefore less consults for me. Boy, was I wrong.
Added to the workload the bitter cold and snowstorms serve to remind me that I am so done with winter. I’m done with getting out of my warm bed into the frigid cold, tired of shivering while waiting for the water to turn hot so I can have a bath, tired of putting on layers over layers of clothes only to still be cold when exposed to the elements, and tired of shoveling my car out of snow banks. I am tired of not being able to shovel my car out, or having to drive around and around for a place to park that is not already occupied by a snow bank or a lawn chair marking someone’s spot, tired of relying on public transport when I can’t rely on my car, tired of slip-sliding all over the place, and tired of having these white-salt stains on my shoes and trouser pants. I am so tired, so fed up, it’s not even funny.
I admit it. I have not been in the mood to be joyful this holiday season. I have spent most of it in the hospital and it hasn’t even been quiet. I’m used to working Thanksgiving and Christmas but not New Year. But here we are, New Year’s Eve and I’m leaving the hospital at 7 pm. It had snowed that day so I took the bus to work. As I waited for the bus near the emergency room in the frigid cold ready to go home and call it a night so I would be ready for another day of work with two new consults already deferred, not one, not two, but three suspect characters passed me by.
The first man, stumbled across the roads with no respect to the passing cars, got to the curb where I was standing, lost his balance, and fell backwards, landing in the dirty slushy snow. Right in front of me. How could I not help him to his feet? Part of me wanted to turn around and pretend I didn’t see but I was the only one there. The guy didn’t even try to help himself up. I used all the energy I had in me to lift him up almost ending up myself in the slush. He was inebriated already and likely homeless by his appearance.
The second man just came round the corner, or rather stormed around the corner spewing vile words, having a real argument with an imaginary somebody. Who? I don’t know! As I watched the two disappear in the distance, I started to think about all those who would be spending New Year’s Eve by themselves, without friends, without family, and I thought to myself, I don’t have to be one of them. I’m not like them! I began to reconsider my plan.
Just then, a man came running across the street, again with no regard to the traffic, just screaming like a maniac with a wild look in his eyes. Okay, that was enough! This is what happens to people who spend the holidays by themselves I told myself. No can do. I called a colleague who was having a dinner at a restaurant with a small group of other single women doctors like me working during the season. I was half-frozen when I arrived, tired, and falling asleep at the table waiting for the New Year to arrive but it felt good to be with people!
HAPPY NEW YEAR.
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