It’s funny how writing gives me the best ideas for
Instead of deferring to social media, i decided to do what my writing suggested, which was to ask if there were any tasks i could help the residents complete. i wasn’t trying to hint that they should send me home, but it ended up getting me sent home. So there’s that.
I feel like residency honestly wouldn’t even be that hard. I just knew that i couldn’t do it. I had to get out! I literally had to get out is the thing. Medicine is too fucking ill and strange for me. I can’t do it, y'all, and i’m sorry for that, but it’s just the way she goes.
I say this becuase this afternoon, I just sat in the on-call room while Y--- made phone calls and E---- was on the computer doing something. Apparently a big part of being a resident is just responding to nurse requests to tweak med dosages and stuff like that.
I had a converasation with N---, an RN whom the new attending, doctor H----- S--- connected me with. He poppped his head into the on-call room just as i had put my headphones around my neck, as if to say to the world 'i’m about to leave,' and right then, at the eleventh hour, he said, 'hey, do you have a sec?' and he pulled me aside to talk to N---. It was a nice conversation. Not world-shaking or groundbreaking, etc., but certainly nice to feel seen in the sense of 'here are the things that i want to do “with my career”' as it were.
Everyone is now getting on my case about 'oh, where are you going to go to ----- school?' And i’m like, 'first of all, let’s take a big pause on everything right now. I don’t want to do ANY school after med school, at least not right away, are you crazy? No way. I’m not doing no damn ----- school. I also don’t think it’s the right path for me. I’ve already considered it.'
I should be more discerning... no i shouldn’t. This is the best possible thing to be telling people that i’m doing with my life, because it has truth inside it and it lets people know what to do with me. It gives them a frame of reference.
Maybe now would be a good time to email L----- back. 'heyyyyy let’s find a time next week to talk, i’m generally somewhat free in the afternoons if that works for you, we could do later in the afternoon preferably just in case there’s anything planned...' I’m sure H----- S--- would be fine with it. Lemme go ahead and do that now.
Okay, great job. I just sent that email. And now what I want to do is take a stroll with a joint and see
i’m looking forward to the end-of-week joint, and don’t worry, i’m still going to go hang out with V---- and whoever else is around later this afternoon. But for now, i have this little piece of time all to myself.
You gotta take advantage of these little windows, don’t you? Because life is short and precious, clearly. And there are people who can keep you alive, but like... still, bro, this shit is pretty precious. And no, weed isn’t going to kill me. And if it is, then shit, well, i guess we’ll have that figured out for next time.
Although... we could take a pause here if we’re being really thorough and really questioning the desire itself. That sid statue is right there, not looking at me or anything, just at the insides of his eyelids, but still all the energy seems to get attracted toward him. i remember that desire is the root of suffering and stuff like that, and i imagine that perhaps it might be wiser of me to skip the weed for the afternoon and wait until later this evening, or better yet, not get into it at all. And instead i can play a little pokemon or some shit—literally anything else.
It’s an interesting thought, and even a good thought. But hey, weed is harmless, isn’t it, and fuck it, what’s it matter if we’re a little high. No, fuck it, i’m doing it. I appreciate your sentiments, but i’m gonna go ahead and get high in a second here. Go down to the car for the whole ritual, you know. And we’ll come back and reassess from there. Okay, be right back, mamas... smoke