Have I ever mentioned that I have a processing issue? John diagnosed me (sketchy, to be sure). He reassured me, “Don’t worry…I don’t think there’s anything wrong with your ears. Just your brain!”
Basically, this is just a more medically way of saying that I don’t do well with competing noise. Multiple conversations going on around me at once is my personal ninth circle of hell. For the life of me, each voice sounds like it’s the same volume as the next. Don’t even try to have an important conversation with the radio or TV playing. For this reason, John unabashedly tells family, friends, colleagues, bums on the street: “Anna would be horrible at Emergency Medicine.” He softens the blow slightly by saying, “But that, of course, is the reason behind her musical ear…subtle harmonies stand out clear as day.” See how he (successfully) butters me up? It’s been going on for years…
But in the last couple weeks, he’s changed his tune. The idea of me doing a seven-year residency in surgery is unappealing to both of us and, frankly, though I enjoyed surgery more than medicine, I wouldn’t say I was absolutely head-over-heels in love with the OR and nothing else. As my ED rotation approached, he would periodically tell me, “You know, it’s okay if you like the ED.”
Well, this might be a problem. It sounds trivial, but I would have some serious concerns entering the same field as my husband, seven years behind him. I love that we’re both in medicine…that we both have similar loves of exotic foods, good music, bioethics, travel, and literature…that we both want children, pets, a broad definition of family, life-long friends, and adventures far and near. But I kind of also want our own respective little corners of our careers that are our own. And, I’m revealing a new depth to my insecurities here, I think it might make me happier to be in a field where I wasn’t always going to be seven years behind him. In a career where you’re constantly learning, I would have difficulty always being the one who benefited from his experience and expertise yet could given little in return. It’s petty, but it’s where I am now.
Now I’m just getting way ahead of myself, as we’ve only had orientation to the ED. I could hate it. (I don’t think I will.)
In lighter news, today I successfully inserted my first 20-gauge peripheral IV line into a consenting classmate.