The end is in sight.
Some days,
it feels like FOREVER before graduation.
Other days,
it feels like I'll blink and this will all be over.
Even still,
we are on the down hill slope of this 4 year mountain we were crazy enough to start climbing.
And that feels exciting.
Jason is already half way through his required rotations.
12 weeks of internal medicine.
Done.
6 weeks of pediatrics.
Done.
6 weeks of family medicine.
Done.
9 more weeks of surgery,
then 6 weeks of OB/GYN,
and 6 weeks of Psychiatry.
And then Jason takes boards.
Again.
Step 2 this time.
Remember Step 1??
{I have PTSD from those days}
But anyway,
after boards it's on to 4th year.
4th year means:
Electives
Away rotations
Applications
Interviews
Submitting a rank list
Match Day
Graduation
Woah.
4th year is going to be a ride.
But let's back up a sec...
See away rotations above?
Those are electives he gets to do at other programs around the country.
The strategy is that you do an elective in the specialty you are wanting to pursue after medical school.
You choose locations where you would hopefully want to train,
and do your elective rotations there.
That way,
when you apply there,
they know and remember you,
and are more likely to offer you an interview.
Away rotations are four weeks long.
J is hoping to do 3.
June, July, August.
That may seem far away,
but applications for these rotations are due by the end of the year.
We are down to the wire.
We need to decide on a specialty,
make plans,
and lists,
and start seriously talking about our future.
For a year and half Jason has thought he wanted to do urology.
He shadowed a few urologists during his first couple years of school and totally loved it.
We {okay, I} had researched everything there was to know about urology residencies.
Which programs were the best,
how to best increase your odds at securing a residency spot,
etc, etc, etc.
But then Jason did his official urology rotation.
I've heard it said that when people are trying to choose their specialty,
they know which one to pick because during that rotation,
they came home HAPPY.
Tired yes.
They always are.
But tired and happy.
Excited.
Fulfilled.
Enthusiastic.
I fully expected this from Jason during his two weeks of urology.
He did too.
And well,
he just wasn't.
Urology wasn't fulfilling him,
and he didn't know why.
He wasn't excited,
or fulfilled,
or giddy,
the way he thought he should be.
He started doubting everything.
He wasn't enthused about the future,
or medicine.
He wasn't sure God was listening.
He needed guidance and reassurance,
and he wasn't getting it.
Cynicism crept in.
If modern day miracles are true,
where's mine? he wondered.
He retreated to dark places in his mind.
I saw him withdraw.
I prayed so hard.
"God, you know his mind.
You know the way his logical, unemotional, rational decision-making brain works.
You're the only one that can help him.
Help him make sense of everything in the way HE understands the world.
Let him know you're there.
Reassure him.
Comfort him.
Guide him to his miracle."
The choice of specialty is heavy.
Not only are you sacrificing 5-7 years of your life for grueling surgical training,
it's also the rest of your life.
He didn't have long to make a final decision.
Applications due by the end of the year remember?
Time was not on our side.
His head, heart, and gut,
were all telling him different things.
And the weight of it all,
was sucking the life from him.
He ended his urology rotation with little clarity,
and so much uncertainty.
God heard.
Some days,
it feels like FOREVER before graduation.
Other days,
it feels like I'll blink and this will all be over.
Even still,
we are on the down hill slope of this 4 year mountain we were crazy enough to start climbing.
And that feels exciting.
Jason is already half way through his required rotations.
12 weeks of internal medicine.
Done.
6 weeks of pediatrics.
Done.
6 weeks of family medicine.
Done.
9 more weeks of surgery,
then 6 weeks of OB/GYN,
and 6 weeks of Psychiatry.
And then Jason takes boards.
Again.
Step 2 this time.
Remember Step 1??
{I have PTSD from those days}
But anyway,
after boards it's on to 4th year.
4th year means:
Electives
Away rotations
Applications
Interviews
Submitting a rank list
Match Day
Graduation
Woah.
4th year is going to be a ride.
But let's back up a sec...
See away rotations above?
Those are electives he gets to do at other programs around the country.
The strategy is that you do an elective in the specialty you are wanting to pursue after medical school.
You choose locations where you would hopefully want to train,
and do your elective rotations there.
That way,
when you apply there,
they know and remember you,
and are more likely to offer you an interview.
Away rotations are four weeks long.
J is hoping to do 3.
June, July, August.
That may seem far away,
but applications for these rotations are due by the end of the year.
We are down to the wire.
We need to decide on a specialty,
make plans,
and lists,
and start seriously talking about our future.
For a year and half Jason has thought he wanted to do urology.
He shadowed a few urologists during his first couple years of school and totally loved it.
We {okay, I} had researched everything there was to know about urology residencies.
Which programs were the best,
how to best increase your odds at securing a residency spot,
etc, etc, etc.
But then Jason did his official urology rotation.
I've heard it said that when people are trying to choose their specialty,
they know which one to pick because during that rotation,
they came home HAPPY.
Tired yes.
They always are.
But tired and happy.
Excited.
Fulfilled.
Enthusiastic.
I fully expected this from Jason during his two weeks of urology.
He did too.
And well,
he just wasn't.
Urology wasn't fulfilling him,
and he didn't know why.
He wasn't excited,
or fulfilled,
or giddy,
the way he thought he should be.
He started doubting everything.
He wasn't enthused about the future,
or medicine.
He wasn't sure God was listening.
He needed guidance and reassurance,
and he wasn't getting it.
Cynicism crept in.
If modern day miracles are true,
where's mine? he wondered.
He retreated to dark places in his mind.
I saw him withdraw.
I prayed so hard.
"God, you know his mind.
You know the way his logical, unemotional, rational decision-making brain works.
You're the only one that can help him.
Help him make sense of everything in the way HE understands the world.
Let him know you're there.
Reassure him.
Comfort him.
Guide him to his miracle."
The choice of specialty is heavy.
Not only are you sacrificing 5-7 years of your life for grueling surgical training,
it's also the rest of your life.
He didn't have long to make a final decision.
Applications due by the end of the year remember?
Time was not on our side.
His head, heart, and gut,
were all telling him different things.
And the weight of it all,
was sucking the life from him.
He ended his urology rotation with little clarity,
and so much uncertainty.
And then he started plastic surgery.
At the end of his first day he called me to tell me he was on his way home.
"I have something to tell you." he said.
"But I want to do it in person."
At the end of his first day he called me to tell me he was on his way home.
"I have something to tell you." he said.
"But I want to do it in person."
I washed dishes and loaded them into the dishwasher,
as he sat down on the bar stool looking stoic.
"Something happened today."
My stomach lurched.
"Okaaaaay." I hesitated.
He told me about the patients of the day.
Burns,
cancer,
trauma,
reconstruction,
cosmetic,
congenital.
All different.
Different problems.
Different body systems.
Different genders.
Different ages.
Different surgical solutions.
Intricate, delicate, complex surgical techniques.
Intricate, delicate, complex surgical techniques.
All beautiful outcomes.
Four patients.
That's all it took.
After four patients the thought entered his mind,
"Could I do plastics for the rest of my life?"
And then it happened.
{Insert his miracle here}
The sprit filled his entire body.
Joy.
Excitement.
Enthusiasm.
Fulfillment.
H A P P I N E S S.
God heard.
He listened.
And lovingly answered his struggling child.
J recounted how that same strong confirmation came back to him throughout the day
whenever he would stop and think about doing doing plastic surgery as a career.
Every. Single. Time.
Affirmed over and over.
This was it.
Still loading dishes,
tears streamed down my face.
Not only because he had made a decision,
but mostly because he felt Heavenly Father,
and knew that he was capable of getting direction and inspiration from God through the Holy Ghost.
It had been a long time since his belief in that was reassured.
Long enough for Satan to creep into his thoughts,
chiseling away tiny slivers of faith in Jason's pillars of spiritual truths.
The weight lifted was visible.
His excitement contagious.
With my still-wet hands {and cheeks},
we hugged for a long time in the kitchen.
Our course was set.
New goals in sight.
And after a few really hard weeks,
I finally felt like medicine wasn't going to ruin everything.
Or steal away the Jason I knew and loved.
With this new development,
and with renewed faith,
we make new plans for the future.
We don't know where plastic surgery will take us.
We won't know until March 2020.
{Match Day}
It is a six year surgical residency.
And it will, no doubt, be challenging.
But this I know,
God is in charge.
He knows me.
He knows Jason.
He knows the 3 amazing little spirits he entrusted to us.
He knows the paths that will strengthen us,
refine us,
humble us,
the ones that will test our faith,
and the ones that will restore it.
And {hopefully} we come out the other side of medical training better,
resembling more of who He wants us to be.
