Ode to Pediatric Residency

Walking into work,
before the daybreak;
The cold air on my face,
leaving in the night.

14 hour days,
No time to pee;
Did I drink water,
or only coffee?

Pleasing parents,
Soothing upset babies;
They like me now,
Will this last?

Upset parents,
screaming children;
Now they hate me,
Where's the attending?

Write this order,
No you did it wrong;
That order too,
Hurry, now.

Another admission,
Talk, examine, repeat;
Snot, cough, fever;
Where's the Tylenol?

Call this consult,
Call that consult;
You forgot this,
You forgot that.

No time for lunch,
Eat chips;
Eat nothing,
Got hummus?

He lost his IV,
She's not pooping;
He's got diarrhea,
So there's this rash...

Doctor can you,
Nurse can you;
Answer that page,
Check that lab.

What was I doing?
Update that PMD;
Complete the discharge,
Can you call my scripts in instead?

Fever, culture, antibiotics,
Pneumonia, no bronchiolitis;
Wheezing, rales, rhonchi,
Who knows, let's try Albuterol!

She's still not pooping...
Doctor, fix that order;
New admission,
Let's try Miralax!

Bathroom break,
Leave pager at desk;
Sit on toilet,
5 minute sanity break.

Interning,
Senioring;
What was I thinking,
Can I go back?

Bad blood gas,
Lactic acidoses;
Baby crashes,
Bag, PPV, chest compressions.

Good for now,
Go home;
Worry about baby,
Will he live through the night?

Baby makes it,
So happy;
The little miracles,
make it all worth it.

Tragedy, accidents, traumas,
Hurting, dying children;
Heartbroken families,
Stay strong.

Make it through the shift,
Don't show your fear;
Keep the tears in,
Why, God?

Hug the families,
Where are the tissues;
Separate work and feelings,
Forget that, you're only human.

Is my baby better?
Yes, you assure them;
False hope,
Baby crashes.

Palliative care,
Tough decision;
Be a better doctor,
Support the family.

Little, precious babies;
Brain masses, bone tumors;
Bald little heads;
Fighters, such tough fighters.

Ring that bell,
Beat that cancer;
Victory happens;
It's worth it again.

She was doing so well,
Reoccurence, secondary malignancy;
Aggressive, non-resectable,
Hospice care.

Can't afford a funeral,
Gather money;
Love that family,
until the very end.

How to learn it all?
Will I ever be good?
It's so hard,
Is it time for vacation?

Study, pass those boards;
Time for inservice exams;
Dang it,
I knew that answer.

I'm tired,
I need sleep;
What's exercise?
When did I last see my husband?

Dirty house,
Dirty clothes;
Ooops wore those pants yesterday too;
Need a haircut.

Life passing by,
The days are long;
The years are short,
It's done in a flash.

Some days suck,
Don't dwell;
The good outweighs the bad,
At least I think so.

Love work,
Love fellow residents;
Surviving each day,
Supporting one another.

Pediatrics.
It's worth it.

A Day in the Life of Imperfect

I have been on an easier schedule this month with Fridays off, which is absurd and never happens during residency. We have been taking full advantage, and have hitting up some stuff on our To-Do list. Last Friday was hiking at a local state park, and this week was downtown adventures. It started like this:

"You should pick out what we do on Friday since I picked last week," my text read to my husband.

He chose breakfast downtown. I suggested donuts. He suggested Do-Rite donuts. I reviewed the menus, and suggested he take a look at the menu because I didn't think he would like it.

"Hey, babe, look at Stan's Donuts in Wicker Park," I said.
"Fine, I thought I was choosing." He said.

This morning we hitched the train to Wicker Park and ate at Stan's. It was a cute shop, and we both enjoyed it.

"What now?" I asked.
"The Field Museum?" he said
"I don't have all day. I need to do some work." I replied.
"Fine, we won't go. I wanted to go all day," the husband says reluctantly.

We walked around the neighborhood, and realized shops didn't open for another 2 hours. We got back on the train and headed downtown.

"What's for lunch?" I asked.
"I wanted Geno's East" the husband said excitedly.
"Seriously? I did not come all the way downtown to eat pizza. We get take-out pizza all the time." I snapped.
"Well, that's what I want and I thought I was choosing." the husband now quite annoyed replied.
"Choose something else," said the annoyed wife who was sick of pizza and hotdogs.
"Fine, I want hamburgers," the husband suggested.
"I told you I'm sick of that stuff," I screamed clearly disgusted by his choices.
"Are you kidding me?! You said no pizza or hotdogs. I suggested hamburgers. I'm not choosing. I'm done," he screamed, now a smidgen angry.
"I said no hotdogs. Hamburgers are like basically the same thing," I rationalized.

He rolled his eyes. We agreed to get back on the train and head to the center of downtown. We get off and started walking. I wanted tea, we argued over the closest one and settled on my directions to Argo Tea. We actually agreed on a flavor to buy, blueberry white tea. We hit up some shops, and he bought me a cute fall dress on sale at the The Loft (My favorite store. They actually make petite clothes that fit my weird small yet large frame). I was happy. I had a pretty dress. We walked some more aimlessly. Oh hey, let's watch that weird street performer. More shops.

"I'm hungry, " I complained.
"My knee is killing me," he said.
"My feet hurt," I replied.
"Not as bad as my knee," said the husband.
"What are we going to eat?" I asked.
"BBQ. No, this cuban sandwich place. No BBQ," he replied uncertainly.
"Well, let's walk back then," I replied.

We walked, and then we walked some more. We got back to the Loop.

"Where is the Cuban place?" I asked.
"Oh, just down the street," he said.

We walk like 4-5 blocks.

"Where is it? You said just down the street" I snapped.
"Just 1 more block," the husband replied.

We walked 3 more blocks.

"My feet are dying. They are done. Give me a piggy-back-ride," I complained.
"No, one more block," he replied
"You said that 3 blocks ago," I snapped.

We walked 4 more blocks and got there.

"This is it?" I asked as I peered into a cafe-style sandwich shop full of college-aged kids sipping coffees and wearing their thick rimmed glasses.
"This isn't what it looked like in the pictures," the husband said puzzled.
"You hate places like that," I pointed out.

We turned around and left. He found directions to the burger place he wanted to go to. Epic Burger. We walked some more.

I spotted Epic Burger nestled by a 711 and a Panda Express. It wasn't looking hopeful. The husband was excited. I tried to hide my disappointment, but dead feet and hungry 5-hours ago status had taken over.

"Don't be grumpy! Why are you grumpy?" the husband hissed.
"I'm not grumpy," I mumbled.

We walked in, and it was full on like Five Guys $5 burger joint status.

'My gosh, does this man not know who I am?! I am not eating this,' I thought.

"What is wrong with you? Look, they have never frozen meat. You will like this," he tried to reassure me.
"Are you kidding? I don't want a $5 burger. I did not come downtown on a train for a $5 Five Guys style burger and bag of fries!" I whined.
"Fine, forget it, I'm not eating here. You said no to sushi because it was too expensive. You want to save money, so we come here. I don't understand you!" snapped the husband as he stormed out.

I followed. We wondered around. I smiled. He rolled his eyes and forgave me. We walked around and found a few choices of restaurants. It was either American or German.

"You choose between the two," I told him like I was actually giving him a choice. I was not hiding too well I was pulling for the German restaurant.
"I don't want to," he snapped.
"Pick," I said.

We started walking, and he turned towards Berghoff German restaurant. We walked in.

"Well, I came here because you OBVIOUSLY wanted to come here over the other place. You didn't hide it very well," he raised his eyebrows at me.

I smiled again.

We had a delicious meal. The husband even enjoyed his. We ate dessert. We got the bill.

"Well, we could have eaten sushi," smiled the husband as he flashed the bill.
"Ooops," I crinkled my nose and smiled at him.
"You're annoying, " said the husband.

We walked to find our train. We got on the train. The husband looked at me and said:

"Well, so much for me choosing what we do today. At least I got to choose my cheesy popcorn."

Purposeful Pursuit

My mind recently has been like one of those projectors displaying a movie reel on a pull down screen in elementary school: I have been watching the my old memories and have been in awe of where I am. I have needed the reminding that I have been refined in my 29 years. I am easily frustrated with my abilities in all areas of my life, and I quickly forget where I once was.  Work is a constant learning experience, and considering I spend 80 hours a week there it would be easy for me to be be weighed down and unhappy. Medicine is not only a practice of learning clinical knowledge that is ever change and synthesizing what I know and applying it to my patients, but it is an art of communicating, leading a team, and relating to patients. When pursuing medicine, many people warned me I would have no life balance, my family would resent me, and that I won't make enough money so I should pursue a different career. What people don't understand is that when God calls one to go, then all common sense goes out the window and one goes!

"Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters," Colossians 3:23. 

Though, pursuing Jesus' call is not for the faint of heart. Medicine has been quite a challenge for me. I'm fairly certain I have undiagnosed ADHD, so when others can read something once or twice, I have to work twice as hard to learn information. I am indecisive and it's hard for me to focus, so being required to take 4-8 hour tests throughout the past 6 years has at times felt impossible. I recently took my third set of boards, and it has left me feeling incompetent and too stupid to treat patients for the rest of my life (actually a common feeling for all residents). I've yet to fail a boards, but it's easy to be discouraged for the next 6 weeks until scores come back. I am also a horrible public speaker, and failed multiple speeches in my academic career secondary to confidence issues and issues being in front of groups of people. I recently gave an hour long presentation, and I put so much work into organizing it and practicing it. I still got feedback that I was dull and read too much from slides. I was so discouraged, but then I remembered I used to fail speeches and completely clam up in crowds, but I stood up and did it and did an average job. Average for me is actually great, so hey, job well done! I am extremely hard on myself, and with patient care I expect perfection from myself. It's so much pressure to have someone's life in my hands and to do the very best for their care, but no one is perfect especially her 2nd year of residency. It doesn't stop us type-A doctors from getting discouraged. Living out this Jesus-calling has been trying, and I have been meditating on why I pursued medicine, why I pursue Jesus, and why my journey is important. Here is a glance into what God is teaching me. 

1. Living my call to Jesus isn't easy. I may want it to be, but it's not. 

"Then Jesus told his disciples, " If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me." Matthew 16:24

My job often feels like a burden. I spent 4 years in college sacrificing college fun, for studying and maintaining grade, and then another 4 years studying 24/ 7 in medical. school. I graduated, and started residency in major debt and making pennies compared to what I paid for school. In residency, we are constantly stressed. Learning the computer systems, managing multiple complex patients, getting along with nurses, reading in our...cough....cough...spare time, making parents happy, making attendings happy, and then going home to sleep at night. I have been yelled at by nurses in front of the parents, yelled at by parents, cussed out by parents, disrespected by staff, and yet my job as a physician is to take it in stride and be professional. Let me tell you, being yelled at multiple times by nursing or attendings in front of other people is so humiliating and makes my blood boil. I wanted to yell and scream, but instead I pursed my lips tight and walked away. If I am really doing my job to bring Jesus glory, reacting negatively, even if it feels justified, defeats my entire purpose. Honestly, that really sucks at times. I don't think that means I have to get walked all over, but it means I need to have discernment when I am standing my ground for a purpose or with a vengeful attitude. My dad passed his hot-headedness to me, so you can imagine the 'tude I can develop (cringe-worthy). 

I think this applies to ANY job. I have noticed a trend in people needing to justify why their job is so hard and they don't get the credit or pay they deserve, etc, etc. In a Christian context, I am not justified to have  a nasty attitude when people don't appreciate my work 24/7. It would be easy to give up and be jaded, so I am in constant need of deep breaths and ruminating on my ultimate goal in life: pursuing Jesus at all costs. 

I tell you what, not matching to a residency and fighting to find a new program was extremely challenging. It's easy for me to become humiliated by my story, but I have tried to remain an open book to share my journey with other people. If I can inspire one person to not give up and to know it's not always a straight path to the end goal, then my struggle was worth it all. 

2. Living a life after Jesus isn't about blessings. I am not guaranteed the American blessed and bountiful life just because I am following Jesus. 

Our culture in inundated with beautiful houses, perfectly decorated, with good-looking people inside wearing the trendiest clothes. We have refrigerators full of grass fed chickens and $6 quarts of local whole milk. We are expected to have matching workout clothes and sneakers, and never sweat when we do our morning yoga (because we do that every morning, right?). Our families look like J Crew models, and we only post the most adorable family photos. Best of all we all go to bed looking like the people in a JCPenny's Christmas catalog with matching pajamas, and perfect hair. We manage to do this while working 40 hours a week, the kids maintain their perfect grades and play 3 sports a week, and PS, we also manage to work at our local food pantry because we are just that good. 

'Pray over these things in His name, amen, and then they will come true.' I mean, come one, give me a break. No, no, no. 

It's been a tough year...errrr...two... for our family. We have struggled to sell house, struggled to find work, moved from where we thought God wanted us to a foreign land (Illinois...hehehe), moved twice across the country... struggled to pay for house flooding and repairs to again try to sell a house... had to pay for new tires and repairs on two cars...have a family dog in need of surgery or face being put down from pain...I mean the list could go on the costs that keep building up for our family. I don't know how many times I have heard it will all be fine, because I'm a doctor and I will make a lot of money. 

The truth is the life of a resident who doesn't come from a wealthy family to pay for the schooling is a huge sacrifice and burden. I can't even begin to think of how much we owe on school loans. Our plan was to pay extra while I was in residency, but we have been hit so hard financially that it's been impossible. I have been working extra shifts (because you know, 80 hours a week isn't enough), so that we could survive the past few months. I'm a typical women and worry about my hair and my clothes, and have felt so guilty over finances that I wouldn't even let myself buy some new shoes even though my current every day black flats are 3 years old and kinda stinky. I am sick of living in a barely furnished house because furniture and decorations are so expensive. I've been kind-of-done with the vagabond lifestyle. It's hard working more hours than probably any other profession, but yet making a fraction of the salary. I get a tad bitter about it. Man, how many other women always feel they are sacrificing and it's never enough? I'm betting many of you.

I have been pretty upset about it recently, but was reminded that this is the life I prayed for: to live radically different for the Lord pursuing a greater purpose than my own. Mind you, that doesn't mean I don't have selfish, bitter, ugly, self-pity days fully of envy of so many other women and families. I have been jealous of others, and my heart has some nastiness going on up in there.  Here I am turning 30 years old this year, yet I am still not settled, I still feel like I am living like a college student, and I am childless. It's no where the life I imagined the life I'd be living at 29. I'm all like, "Hello Jesus, I've been working like a maniac for years now never taking a break, I did this because you told me to, and what gives! Where are MY blessings?" I sound like Veruca Salt from Willy Wonka, "Don't care how, I want it now!" Somebody slap me. 

3. Following Jesus can be lonely. 

I can be surrounded by people every day, but in the end I am alone on my journey with pursuing my call. No one else can bear my cross or my daily burdens. I put on a tough exterior, but I am a sensitive soul inside. I used to be all  about self-maintaining a billion relationships, because I thought that was what nice people do. Multiple surface level relationships are impossible to maintain and it makes for an unhealthy mindset. It has been a new journey to be married, and learn to depend on my husband as my primary support. It took a few years to get to that point, but I am thankful to have one person who is going through the same challenges and to walk through life hand in hand. I am still learning to depend on Jesus and to run to Him in good times and bad, so I am thankful He never gives up on me. 

Even through all of this, it is exciting to start seeing the light at the end of the tunnel as they say. I am almost halfway through residency, and I am learning a skill set that will always be useful. People will always be sick and hurt and need of a good physician. Deep breaths. I can do this!

Yes I Can

The outside appearance is often misleading. I may appear confident, but I have struggled with who I am and what I am capable of for as long as I can remember. Throughout grade school, people were scared of me because I am opinionated and strong willed, but that was a great cover for what I felt inside. I liked to work hard and please others, so I studied and managed to make good grades. I somewhat worked hard at track and softball, and I was above average in both. The outside achievements hid the darkness I felt inside.

When I look back at what I achieved, the memories are marred by the times I doubted my capabilities. The races I mentally defeated myself before I ran, and the times I held back because I thought there was no way I could win or that I didn't have the ability to keep up with my components. The memories of mentally sabotaging myself pitching on the softball mound or being up to bat and not believing I could make contact. They call people like me "head cases," and I definitely excelled at being one.

School and sports were not the only areas I felt defeated, but I also disliked who I was inside and out. I HATED what I looked like, and I was the typical female who thought she was fat and ugly. When I got to college, I met some awesome ladies, and I never knew why they wanted to be MY friend. I'd replay my faults and failures in grade school and high school, and cry myself to sleep many nights wondering why anyone would want to be my friend. My strong personality masked the pain I really felt. I overcompensated by throwing myself into school and friendships, and working hard to be perfect. I didn't accept failure. If I made B's, said a wrong answer in class, or got weird looks from someone at a social event I would go home and cry and beat myself over for days at 'failure.' I was literally psychotic in college. Get a wrong answer, and I'd be in the professors office the next day. Disagree with the grading, and I'd be first lined up to argue. I studied 24/7 and had no grace for myself.


How did I ever work through the mental mess I was? God's grace and mercy are number one in my books. I remember the first life altering event that started to change my perspective of what's important: when my high school best friend died tragically in a car accident the first week of medical school. Can you imagine the neurotic Hannah facing her medical school test, and being forced to step away from school for 4 days and not being able to be emotionally stable enough to open up a book?! It's unfortunate that the death of a friend was what took me to slow down, and face reality that school is not the most important thing in life. Acing a test does not determine who I am. It was the first time I studied what I could, took breaks, and took breaths. It would be okay no matter what I got on that test as long as I passed. It was quite a change for a perfectionist.

I continued to try to keep the frame of mind in medical school that no matter how a test went or a rotation went that it's okay, because I would make it through. I still had to remind myself frequently that life would go on if I got a C or didn't finish 1st in my class. It was mentally taxing for a loon like myself to start a new rotation each month with new doctors to impress and new stuff to learn, and to not let it get to me if I got yelled at in the OR or if a nurse was mean to me for doing something wrong. I made it through medical school, and guess what, I survived! I also gave myself a pass with my friendships. Instead of overcompensating, visiting everyone, sending cards, and calling frequently, I reminded myself true friends would still be there and that I didn't have to be a perfect person to deserve their friendship.

I still have negative thoughts about my appearance, especially after gaining 30 pounds since college. Seriously, I look at a cookie and don't work out and boom, I gain 10 pounds. It's embarrassing, but I am more confident that I am still healthy and beautiful. I do what I can, and by golly, I can lose this weight. I have to take those deep breaths, look in the mirror and remind myself it is a new day and I can make changes little by little to reach my goals. I no longer have to mentally psyche myself out like I did in track, but I can start with where I am and go, go, go. I have embraced my quirkiness, and I am at a place I like who I am. I've accepted I'm not a size 2 anymore, and that's okay. I've accepted I am not the best at large social gatherings and I'm kind of awkward, but guess what, put me one and one and no one will love a person more than me. I may care too much and take things personally, but I now see that as a strength, because as one of my medical school attendings told me once, "People just want to be taken care of well," and dang-it I'll care for you like you're my family. I might have weird taste in clothing, love bright things and old hats, and all things old, but I actually love that about myself. I'm still opinionated, but I see that as a strength that I think for myself and stand for what I believe. I may be obsessed with pies and farmer's markets, but apparently that is cool now. I may be obsessed with my dogs, but hey I like rescuing things, and some day I am going to rescue children and fill my house-up with them and then you won't think I am so weird. I have old fashioned values, and outdated opinions, but my parents taught me there is more than the world tells us life is about, and I am grateful they taught me the simple pleasures in life.

This post was inspired by feeling defeated the past week working in the ED. I am not keeping up the with patient volume, coming up with the correct diagnosis like I should, or excelling like I want. I have turned back into that timid self-defeating mouse from high school. I woke up this morning, and said, "Self, this is shift 4 of 12. You aren't even half done yet, so keep going, learning, asking questions every day, taking chances, and by shift 12 you will be THAT much better." I almost forgot my own advice today when I let some cross words from a colleague get to me, and I felt so stupid. When people talk to me in that tone, you know the one, like you're stupid why are you bothering me? Yeah, that one gets me deep down every time. It's that tone that immediately makes me want to cry and say mean things to myself. My immediately thought, "I already think I'm stupid, so thanks you're not telling me anything new, folks!" I chose to combat those negative thoughts, and remind myself each moment is new, next time I'll get that right! I can persevere, and I will be better a doctor and person for giving it my best each day. God is cheering me on, and yes I can!

A Story in the Making

I can not believe it has been a year since I moved from Kansas City. The place I hated and then fell in love with, and then we parted ways. I'd like to say it was bittersweet, but it was only bitter. I packed up last June, and moved down to Texas by myself. Robert was still preaching in Grain Valley, and I moved down to start a family medicine program. I was 18 hours from home in a new state for the first time ever, and I had no one. My intent was to keep a good attitude, work hard, and hopefully end up loving family medicine. 

I hated Texas. Corpus Christi was isolated from other cities, and was just so different- the culture, the weather, the people- I was SO homesick. I kept my chin-up best I could, and figured the first step was to try out new churches. I went to one for a few weeks, and met one person. My friend Dorothy who was in her 70s, and invited me over for lunch. She was just what I needed. I was otherwise unimpressed with the church, and people were not friendly at all. I threw myself into shopping at the farmer's market (total bust), trying to find local health food stores (also a bust), finding local meat markets (not too shabby, except for the one mustached man who yelled at me for asking about nitrite free bacon), and drinking the local coffee (at least that part was good)! I used my alone time to get into yoga and start jogging again, so I got a nice tan. Then it was time to start my program.

Oh my program, where to even start! I think I could sum it up as awful. The people in my program were cool, and I enjoyed most of them. I kept myself at a distance though, because I knew almost immediately I would be searching for a new program in pediatrics or psychiatry, or my last resort a different family medicine program just to get away from the place. It was a toxic environment to say the least. The program was actually internal medicine driven, and there were no lectures on actual clinic based family medicine. The clinic consisted of one doctor who was stretched thin trying to teach us, and most of the time I felt in over my head in the clinic. I was so disappointed with the learning. We had an awesome schedule and basically worked maybe 10 weekend during the entire year, but this also meant I wasn't learning. I was frustrated and confused. 

The program director, well he is an entirely other conversation. When I interviewed with him, he brought up my husband being a pastor and how he was a christian. He told me how his Baptist church was hiring and how he thought it was the holy spirit telling me to come down. I was excited thinking that he was going to be awesome. Not quite. It started with my very first day of residency not knowing some EKGs the cardiologist quizzed me on, so the cardiologist emailed my director complaining about me and I got called in the next day and interrogated why I got them wrong. I think that sets the stage for what kind of director this guy is. He is the kind of guy who rules by intimidation and fear. He would sit directly in front of you during morning report and rip you apart for your patient care.  His behavior confirmed to me that I needed to not give up on finding something better suited for me. 

I was desperate. My husband was not having any luck finding a job in Corpus Christi, and I hated my program. In August I found out that my dad's treatment wasn't working, and his cancer was spreading. I decided to have a conversation with my program director about transferring. I knew I would never have time or money to fly back to be with my family, and I felt stuck. I sat down in his office one morning and spilled my guts (which of course included crying like a baby- last thing I wanted to do in front of this jerk.). I told him about my dad and that I needed to be closer to home and felt like I needed to transfer. The conversation can be summed up by him telling me I needed to wait the year out, that no program would have an opening, and that if they did I wouldn't want to go there. He told me MY DAD SHOULD MOVE DOWN TO CORPUS CHRISTI AND THAT WOULD BE A GOOD IDEA TO SOLVE MY PROBLEMS (my 80 year old father with metastatic cancer should move to Texas). He said I would regret transferring and have to explain it the rest of my career. I don't know why I expected him to understand.

So I did what any sane woman does, bake a lot and plot my escape from Texas. I paid money and applied to all of the sites that advertise residency vacancies. I wrote some of the programs I previously applied to, but that of course was a dead end. In my desperation, I wrote my old classmates from medical school and told them my situation and that I was looking for an opening now, and that I knew it would probably never happen but if their programs had openings to let me know. I had family members calling their doctor friends trying to help me find an opening. I waited for a couple of months, and was losing hope that I would find anything. I remember locking myself in my room crying, and Robert breaking in (I'm not much for PDC- public displays of crying) and telling him my dad was possibly dying and I was stuck in Texas for the next 3 years. I. Was. Rockbottom. 

The craziest thing then happened. I mean absolutely crazy. I got an email from an old classmate who had happened to have checked her old school email and she saw my email (like 2 months after I sent it). Her pediatric program in Chicago had an opening! I knew it was a long shot, but she gave me the information for her director and I sent my resume. I didn't hear from him for a few weeks, so I had given up that anything would come of it. Then he emailed me! We set up a time to talk. I was nervous, because I suck at interviews especially phone ones. I explained my situation, and we talked for a bit, and I felt like it went pretty well. It then became a whirlwind! Within the week I had interviews with the two other associate directors, and they seemed pretty positive about our future together. Um, crazy crazy! One of my interviews I was in the middle of my workout, and got the call and I was a sweaty mess for the Skype interview...oops. 

I don't even remember the timeline of the rest of it, but by the middle of October I had an offer to join their program. (I knew this was a God thing, because they were not advertising the position online and I would never have known if I didn't send those desperate emails.)The part I was dreading was telling my current director. I was on my way out of town for the next week, so I decided I would just call him with the news. I already knew the direction the conversation would go, so I was prepared for his harassment. Our phone conversation consisted of me breaking the news and him threatening me what I did was illegal and he would block me from any program for the next two years. I was proud of myself, because I stood up to him and said in fact I broke no rules and that I tried being professional and talking to him about it two months prior but he didn't want to hear it. He told me "he couldn't believe I was putting my family before the program now." Clearly this guy didn't have a clear grasp of reality. He then tried slandering my name by sending an email to the chiefs lying about our conversation and saying he tried warning me before I ever took the position in Texas that it would be hard to be away from family....right, see above conversation for what the actual conversation entailed. 

I was in Texas for the next month to make money, give them time to rearrange the schedule, and to get our rental house rented. It rented in one 1 week, so Robert moved me out in one weekend. I had another 3 weeks to be in Texas, and I didn't know what I would do! Luckily, I had met a really great couple at church and I was a creeper and asked if I could crash at their place. I had no money for a hotel for 3 weeks, so I was SO THANKFUL when they invited me into their home. I enjoyed my last 3 weeks spending time with them, enjoying the rest of the time with my fellow residents, and enjoying the last few days of beach weather. 

In December I moved to Chicago. There is so much more tell about the months in Chicago, but it can be summed up that I am at such a supportive program that I can't believe it. My program director asks about my dad. My chief residents arranged for coverage for me when I needed to go away for a couple of days for my dad's surgery. My fellow residents are all awesome and smart, and push me to be a better doctor. My days are busy and often stressful, but I'm clearly right where God wanted me. Shoo-wee, what a year it has been!

Medicine for the Chocolate Lover's Soul

Today was one of those days. The kind of day I am spent and just want to go home and curl up in my elastic pants with spoonful of chocolate. I scoured the internet for a simple, healthier version of warm, chocolate pudding but I couldn't find what I wanted. I was tired, but not so much I was beyond experimenting in the kitchen with a few of my new favorite ingredients. It was one of those dumb luck recipes that turned out great. Instead of sharing some insightful blog post, I instead provide you a must-try mid-week-get-me-outta-this-slump recipe. Sorry, I'm no photographer so the pictures are lack luster (I desperately need my BF's mad newly acquired photography skills, but alas, she's all the way in Denver! Boo-hoo).

Double Dr. Chocolate Cacao Pudding

Cast of characters:

Nutiva Cacao Powder 1/2 cup

Coconut Sugar to taste (approx. 1/8 cup)

3 TBSP Cornstarch or flour

2 cups full fat coconut milk

2 TBSP grassfed butter or coconut oil

1 TBSP vanilla 

Enjoy-Life brand chocolate chips 

Simple Stupid Instructions:

1. Mix the cacao powder, sugar, and cornstarch/flour in a sauce pan. 

Side note: Have you ever tried coconut sugar? It's my favorite low glycemic index sweetener. It's got wonderful toasted aroma and adds just enough sweetness to my baked goods. It will tend to make things a bit drier so I usually add a smidgen Maple Syrup when I substitute regular sugar with coconut sugar. Seriously, try this stuff!. 

(This is my first recipe using cacao powder. I have used cacao nibs substituted for chocolate chips in coconut milk-shakes, but I was excited to try the powder form. Apparently it's the raw, unheated version on cacao and has a high amount of antioxidants: AKA- cancer prevention. Yes, please!)

2. Turn on to low-medium heat and gradually incorporate the coconut milk while whisking the crap out of the mixture (Lump prevention in full force). Whisk, whisk, whisk! (Good thing for my yoga arms. The Chaturangas are perfect for building up my whisking muscles. Did I mention I skipped yoga today to make pudding. He-he).

3. Add your dab of butter/coconut oil and continue to whisk. 

4. Once the mixture thickens, remove from burner and add vanilla (Another side note, isn't it so funny that to make Chocolate pudding one has to add vanilla?! It made me chuckle. Clearly after a long day of work I'm easily amused). 

5. Stir the vanilla and toss in a chocolate chips. Stir again.

6.Serve up a heaping portion into a brightly colored dish, and enjoy! 

What's that I spy?

Mmmm, I smell CHOCOLATE!

Give me a spoon and let's make this pudding history!