Adventures in ....

I know, I know. You're thinking: wait just a minute - this blog is called Adventures in Medical School, and yet its author just recently graduated from medical school, which by definition excludes her from the category of medical student... something is just not adding up. Seriously, what gives?

Or in the words of my favorite new phrase, DOES NOT COMPUTE (which clearly must be said in a robot voice).

Well, if you are confused by this change, you have a right to be. This small inconsistency is representative of an enormous transition in my life; actually, several enormous transitions all happening simultaneously. The transition from medical student to doctor. (DOCTOR!!) The transition from living in Portland to living in Minneapolis. From being on mental vacation to starting residency. The tragic transition from spending time with people I love in portland to ... not spending time with them. But spending time with new people, some of whom I love. From rain to oppressive heat and humidity and mosquitoes. From rivers to lakes, mountains to prarie, big evergreens to smaller trees that drop things on you (I guess these would be called "leaves").

I originally had an elaborate plan to do an entire blog redesign that would correspond with graduation. Running titles during my jam session with mike and steve included "Adventures in Medicine," "Adventures in Residency," and some other likely much better ones that would be authored by "Doctor Fiona, Medical Doctor." However, given my incredible list of things to do around the time of graduation - a list that included but was not limited to graduating, writing the graduation speech, taking boards, preparing program for and attending awards ceremony, welcoming and spending time with family, packing up apartment, saying goodbye - well, it just didn't happen. Ok? It just didn't. In the mean time, suggestions for new blog title are welcome.

It strikes me that I haven't really allowed myself an appropriate blog-time emotional response to the fact that I actually graduated from medical school and was awarded the title of MD. Which, when I stop to think about it, has realy been the primary goal of my life to date. So, regardless of how funny it sounds to me and how weird it makes me feel... I AM A DOCTOR! Barely, but still. Oh my god.

Graduation was really nice. And very momentous. It was actually technically a hooding ceremony, in which our doctoral hoods were bestowed upon us individually on stage. They called us up one by one, we kneeled down on an ornate padded stool with a rickety hand-rail (which we were told repeatedly not to use because it would break) and then two faculty members draped the fancy velvet-like hood, that badge of academia, over our shoulders. I was prohibited from fully savoring the full significance of this moment by the knowledge that I still had to give a speech - a speech that, by the way, I had showed to no-one. And also the knowledge that I had to sit on stage, right in front, in full view of the hundreds and hundreds of people in attendence, for the duration of the entire ceremony. And let me tell you, the combination of thick black polyester gown and bright stage lights is not necessarily wholly enjoyable.

Its weird what you think about when you are up on stage. For example, the whole time that I was up there I couldn't stop thinking about the amalgamation of bandaids and corn pads that I affixed to the back of my heels to prevent my vintage size 12 patent leather pumps from eating through my skin and severing my achiles tendons. And I was worried that this sticky "flesh-colored" contraption was hanging out from the back of my shoes, visible to everyone but me. But checking would entail lifting up my gown and leaning over at an odd and very conspicuous angle... this is what I thought about. In between bouts of paralyzing nervousness about walking to the podium. That and the fact that I had to go to the bathroom really bad.

But I gave my speech, and people laughed when I wanted them to (sometimes more than I expected them to - I think everyone was hopped up on a weird mixture of nostalgia and adrenaline). And the things that I was worried about - namely tripping and hitting my head on the podium and losing consciousness - did not happen. So I think that can be counted as a success. And then, inexplicably, I was given a very fancy gold-headed cane (a prestigious award and an enormous honor that I hope to some day be able to live up to). But it was nevertheless a cane, which one can't help but incorporate into various vaudeville-esque tap dance numbers. Couldn't be helped.

It was probably the proudest day of my entire life, and I was so glad that so many wonderful people were there to share it with me. My lovely family (including my awesome aunt from Australia), my beautiful friends, my incredible boyfriend. It was amazing.

And now I have to worry about what comes next. ie, Residency. ie, actually being a doctor.