I realized i needed to start writing because i felt as though medicine were starting to hypnotize me. That’s how i felt. There’s no softening it. I felt like i was getting fucking infected by the mental illness that is medicine. It’s a mental illness; I’m going to continue to say it. I’m sorry to anyone it offends. I’m really sorry, parents, if it offends you. I notice their picture hanging up in that little thing that i have for hanging pictures..... Hmph. It makes me realize i have the risk of disappointing them, but shit, i’m my own fuckin' person, bro.
As i stand here and look upon all these things on my dresser, i see only reminders of that 'perfect person' identity they’re (subliminally?) trying to curate in me. This clinical research water bottle and the university department of surgery thermos.... It’s all staring me in the face.
i guess you don’t need your parents to be in a place for the place to remind you so completely of your parents, of the life you were living.... childhood ass life........ So strange to think about..... It's all so weird. It all just makes my brain glitch the fuck out in strange ways. But i stay the course, i keep the shit moving, keep it going, it’s the weekend, we’re in [hometown], it’s a beautiful place, there’s no excitement up here other than the kind you have to make. You can’t just show up to a fuckin workplace and talk to everyone and they all have a reference point for who you are and why you’d be talking to them. There’s nothing like that out in the real world. Nobody i can talk to about babies. No nurse who i can go up to and be like 'hey, between you and me, what do you think about that baby with the thing in its mouth? What do you think they should do? You think they should take it out, right? Consider whether the baby has any quality of life? That’s what i’m saying.'
See what i mean about
It gives me these things that i suddenly have to care about. Worse, it makes me feel a semblance of control in situations so clearly steered by other forces (god, attending, fellow). i think i’ve already given up on this shit. First i say i’m concerned about the baby's ostomy output and nobody believes me, and then the concerns get validated by the higher authority to which they appealed. And now what? I’m tossed to the side? Is no one going to acknowledge what i’m doing here, the contribution i’m making? i’m really fucking trying. I'm trying, and it’s not being rewarded. So why try? I’m done with it, possibly. At least from where i’m standing now. All the artifice, i’m sick of it. I’m sick of all the thinking about whether the attending likes me or not. I don’t give a fuck about that. This is not
I didn’t come here to make friends. The friends i do make will be residents. They’re the ones who stand an actual chance of understanding me, and even with them sometimes it’s like ohhhh goddddddd helppppppp. Whowhowhowhwohwohwoh knowwsssss what dynamic the next round of rezzies will bring. Myyyyy god, i can’t beliveve i’m still doing this fucking bullshit. You know what i mean? Like dude, you ever just zoom out and realize how long it’s been since you’ve wanted to fucking quit this shit, and you’re sitll at it? ??? and you’re in your like.... Welllll, fucking O-- K------ continues to promise that each thing is like the MD getting put after my name. First it was clinical year, now it’s this fucking month-long rotation, then next it'll be the one happening next month, and then... well, i guess the closer we get to the end, the harder it gets to think of things that could actually stand between me and the thing of gratudiation.
I just think about the thing of the arrow and the derivatives and how the arrow theoretically
But that’s different from what actually happens. The arrow does hit the target, cars do go around little loops into the freeway, people do get penetrated and not just lip service, orgasm is achievable, climax is a part of life, it does happen, things are not just like one long fucking nofap tolerance break from fucking feeling shit dude.
Uh, where was i even going with that? I think just 'fuck medicine,' but i’m almost done with that shit, almost in a position where i can speak freely about all that is wrong with that shit. Soon i can burn all the medical bridges. All the people in school who respect me as a quiet person who stays in line and doesn’t mess with people too much—i’m going to destroy that version of myself in their minds. Because something gotta fucking change, dude. And idk, it’s like, nothing is going to change from the inside, but i’m doing the ladder method where you use the ladder to get you to that next step and then what you have to do is THROW DOWN THE LADDER. THROW IT DOWN, BROTHER, YOU
But i guess the letters after my name will be the seal that proves i've gone through enough to be considered one of them. And when i go rogue after, they can never take my degree away from me.
It would take a whole lot more than what i’m doing—let’s make that extremely clear—in order for something so drastic to happens as my degree getting revoked. But if it does happen in the future, and we reach a point in this country where free speech really isn't allowed anymore, who the fuck knows. But i think i’d have bigger problems on my hands—ideally i would—than getting a damn MD revoked. lol. Not saying i’m doing criminal activities, btw. i honor the first precept of not killing others. And honestly i take that further by not trying to do any violent harm to others.
so how could i kill a human? It’s all very clear. It should all be very clear.
And if it’s ever not clear, just ask me again and i’ll tell you the same thing. It’s just that the free speech thing is starting to get so subjective. They can take your shit down for less than what i’ve said in my own private musings. And that’s just the truth. And still, like i said, there’s no, like..... There’s nothing like... And there’s the mental illness of the panopticon and living in the surveillance state which comes out to get you again. This is one of several many infections imparted upon us by living in this
Tomorrow it will be nice to have some uninterrupted alone time in the fucking outside world, the actual living nature shit, bro, like, hello, hello, come on.
as fuck, though. You come home and see a camera recording your whole process of getting parked and out of the car and everything. It’s so fucking bothersome. It's all so bothersome. But i knew when i left that apartment today that coming back up here would be to take myself for a samsaric spin. But i was only thinking about the car ride. I hadn’t considered what the rest of this shit might bring. But you know what, hell yeah, we’re fucking here, it’s good to be up here in god’s green earth, and i’ll see how it’ll be a hugely good decision pretty soon.
I mean, it’s already been a nice first night watching the three hours of big brother that i had to catch up on.... I’m going to save my commentary on that because who the fuck honestly cares.
The only thing i’ll say is it’s obviously cool to watch it. It’s better than any kind of soap opera, but it scratches what i imagine must be a similar itch. But the dialogue is stuff you could’ntn’’tn script. You couldn’t write it because you’d be too scared. You’d be too scared to write a character like Morgan. She’s too complex. She’s doing this whole mist thing on Vince and getting him to do everything she wants all the time, and then she herself directly takes out his number two ally, and now she’s very well positioned to keep goidoidnionggg really well, cuz it's the top fuckin' five now, and it’s like, okay, so she already took Ava off the block, granted, she did put her back up there, but shit, i don't know, someone might think it’s a good idea to take her out. And Keanu and shit like Ashley might honestly float right into the top two and win somehow, but if Morgan or Keanu are next to her, i don't think she has much of a chance.... We’ll just have to see, you know, it’s a crazy game and anything can happen, so let’s just seeeeeee. i’d like not to see Vince in those final two chairs. i don't wanna hear himmmmmmm bitch and moan about why he deserves to win.
Anyway, yeah, uhhhhh, shit, okay, i think maybe that’s it for right now. But it's a new day, so that’s kind of a relief. I feel like any pressure there might’ve been lingering from yesterday, the whole emotional work rollercoaster of it all, and the literal rollercoaster of driving six hours north and oilieilekeke just saying goodbye to all those residents i’ve worked with and being vindicated but not fully, not in the eyes of others just yet maybe, but shit, i..... .
to me. None of it matters. It’s all so fucking superfluouuosuss compared to the big picture, which is that what we’re doing is fucking fcucucekd up. It’s horrible it’s horrible it’s horrific as fuck, actually, like what the actual earthly fucking shit, bitch, is happening in that hospital? i just hate it, dude, i hate it so much, and idk if i can lean in further than this. I don’t know, i think i might be in my leaning-back-out era. I need to let all the new residents steal the spotlight from me, and we need to focus on those residents getting educated and making the mistakes and being freaked out so i can fade into the background. I wanna fade i wanna fade i wanna be friends with people and fade and njootottotottt rock the boat......
But i can see myself possibly rocking the boat for the fucking tumor baby, and the only reason i keep calling him that is because i feel like it’s hipaa removed enough,,,, but shit, at this point, i don't even know, man. anyway, whatever, who gives a fuck, medicine is fake and gay and reatedered.
Sorry, i should focus more on right speech. None of this is at all constructive.
It’s just that it’s a cult that takes people in and sucks money out of them until they can start making some of that money back from the very hospital that tt t t t tt they had been funding the whole time. They’ll have dumped hundreds of thousands of dollars into this place which now starts paying them basically maybeee ermrmmmm one point five times minimum wage, i might think? I don’t know how much they’re getting paid, but the money aspect makes it even more sick. It’s fucking sick in the head that doctors are paid this way to begin with: that the residents are at the bottom of the ladder and that they’re paid basically dust, that they’re paid at all still being kind of crazy, that you're being paid to be the arbiter of these
to infants, and you’re at the fuckin disposal of two people who are higher on the chain than you, and then you have the proletariat class of nurses who is constantly sticking knives to your throat, saying 'you must advance this baby’s feeds cuz she’s going to be hungry and scream at me all the time otherwise, or you must let me fuckin .... You must put this order in ...' and stuff. Shit, idk, man. It’s just fucked up.
And then when you’re an attending making all that goddamn money and feeling like you deserve it because of all that you went through and still making the absolute worst decisions for these babies.... It’s insane. And
and stuff, but i feel like i know when i’m speaking the truth, and now is certainly one of those times.
Fuck medicine and fuck everyone—no, you see, that’s where i have to stop, lol, cuz ultimately i still am in this shit for theeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee end of suffering for all sentient beings. It makes me grab my mission by the edge of its frame and tilt that shit so it’s straighter on the wall. Like girl, keep your head up, your tiara is falling. Keep your head up, as in, you
and address them and shit like that. You want their end of suffering first and foremost. That’s it. And that’s what prevents me from ever being cruel in real life to these people. Only place i can be cruel to them is here in my little sandbox. And i’ll continue to do so. I just hope it's understood by anyone who’s reading this that.... This stuff is just for me, the me who’s speaking now, the one who's writing this. It’s only for me in the moment. It’s just like... the whole thing ends as soon as it’s documented.
Like this new paragraph could reflect a whole lot of gratitude for the whole situation, for the attending’s letting you into rounds with open arms, seemingly, and letting you participate at all, and not telling you everything you’re doing wrong and stuff. You’re grateful that you’ve made it this far into it, and you’re still going strong, and yesterday you really did the hard thing and went back to work and did your little presentations, and you did them well, and you didn’t have to stop in the middle. You held that shit down. No one even had to know unless you wanted to tell them. And you told E---- briefly in little veiled terms.... Shit, it’s kind of strange, it’s kind of strange, this whole thing. Because i feel like i could never quite share everything with these people. There were never opportunities for it, i guess.. None that i could see. None that i saw revealing themselves to me. And that’s just how it goes, i guess. And now i may never see these people again. It sure would be nice to get some closure with all of them. I’ll let E---- or whoever do the planning on that. Someone who has all our numbers. We’ll do a nick you thing next week, that’s what E---- said. And that would be nice. Let’s please do closure and get all of this shit out of our system, literally. Please let me have a drink with Y--- and queen the fuck out with him and C------- and H------- (love her, bro) and E---- goes without saying is awesome as fuck like my clinic sister for real, she’s genuinely funny in such a comforting way. That’s my sister for real as fuck.
But yeah, it’s good, i guess. I’m ultimately good and grateful and whatnot. FUCK. i hate when i can’t be fully angry at something. But shit, no, i still am. I’m still in this shit for the kicking of the ladder at the end. Keep going to
eeeee......
But maybe i’d need to reread my own allegory about the subject and see what it reveals to me. For now, it’s time to, errrr.r.... Go. bye.
read it