The Car Next to Me

Happy Labor day, a day late!! But I have an excuse, we were busy being “laborless” for three days at my in-law’s house, which is something that doesn’t happen much for the doc.

We spent the weekend wakeboarding and waterskiing with the family. It was so nice to see him relaxed and in his element.  He works so hard and it felt just like old times (aka before September 2011 when medical school started).

The doc’s family lives about two hours away so we had a while to talk and think. On the way home, as I was enjoying the green Tennessee hills, I saw a man probably mid fifties, picking his nose while driving.  Oh and not just picking, I mean digging for gold! It was so disgusting! I don’t understand what it is about the being enclosed in a car that makes people think they are invisible.  You know Mr., the windows are clear.

It’s like when you were little and playing hide-and-seek. If you hid under the table and the tablecloth covered your head, you thought you couldn’t be seen. WRONG! 

To all those nose-picking drivers, don’t pick and drive…or at least get tinted windows!!

The Muse

While second year has required even more hours than last year, I am grateful to not be the doc’s muse, at least temporarily. Last year during Practical Exam, I was constantly having my ears, eyes and nose probed, having to stick out my tongue out until my mouth was dry and experience reflex movement in my knee more than wanted.

Don’t get me wrong, I love helping out when I can but there is only so much a girl can take! (Although I do miss Anatomy when he had to learn the muscles in the back because I had an excuse whenever I wanted a massage!)

So here’s to his current classes, Pathology, Microbiology and Nueroanatomy, for giving me a break and letting him focus on the diagrams in the books.

Now if only could he could take Anatomy year round…

Christmas in August

A few weeks ago one of my favorite yoga instructors shared this quote during class, “What you spend your time doing is what you are committed to.” While this seems like a blatantly obvious observation, it really got me thinking.

The hubs works so hard in school and spends so much time and energy studying, there is no arguing that he is committed to medicine. At the same time, I’m grateful for days like today that remind me that he is still just as committed to me. 

Last year he bought me an orchid, my favorite flower, but over the summer it died. I was sad but got over it and forgot about it.  Yesterday was a crazy day and I really only saw the doc for about two hours after I got home from work. I fell asleep early (while reading Emily Giffin’s new novel because she’s one of my favorite) and woke up to a lovely surprise: my favorite Kashi cereal, fat-free milk (we were out and he only drinks 2% and knows how much I hate it) and a beautiful new orchid placed in our kitchen window. I honestly had butterflies in my stomach and the feeling you get on Christmas morning.

Despite his crazy schedule I’m so grateful he takes the time to show me he cares. So a little shout out to the doc, thanks for the love! 

Sent Home from Med School

Remember those days in elementary school where they safety pinned notes home with you if you didn’t comply with the dress code or standards? Like the time I thought it was crazy hair day and had my mom put my hair in a hundred little pony tails all over my head, just to find out the occasion was actually the following Friday.  Really, was the note necessary? I guess by med school they forgo the note and send you home!

Well, after the doc left for class this morning, I wasn’t expecting to see him until lunchtime so I decide to sleep a little longer and enjoy my morning. Only 45 minutes later, I’m busted! He comes home and runs into the room to change. He grabs his white coat, which probably should have been ironed, and asks me which of three ties match the best with his pants and shirt.

So why isn't the dress pants and button up shirt he is already wearing enough for today?

I can’t help but ask him with a smirk on my face, “Did they send you home from med school?” His hasty, defensive yet jovial reply informs me that he CHOSE to come home and change because they are seeing actual patients today. 

Ok, so I’ll let him get away with it this time. But only because it makes my day every time I see him leave the house in his professional dress, mount his 1994 bright red Honda moped and ride off to school with his tie blowing behind him in the wind. 

And so it begins...

It’s test day again. I wake up anxious, nervous, ready for it to be taken and for it to be over. It’s 7:30 a.m. on a Monday morning. I get dressed and ready for my morning routine, which starts with a trip to the gym to take my mind off of things. As I watch the time go by on the elliptical, I can’t help but think to myself, “How much time is left?” The time creeps by ever so slowly as I feel the pressure looming over my head. Finally two hours later I get the text, “It’s done. I feel like the test went well.”

Nope, it’s not me taking the test.  But sometimes it feels like it should be. Welcome to my blog, The True, Honest and Personal Confessions of a Med School Wife.

After reading Imogen Edwards-Jones novel, Fashion Babylon, which reveals the truth of what really goes on behind the scenes in the world of high fashion, I started thinking about my own life. I have a first-hand view, (without actually having to take the tests) at what it takes to become a doctor and a doctor’s wife.   

When I tell people my husband is in medical school to become a doctor, they always tell me how I’m going to be rich one day. While being financial set might be in the cards for me because of my husband, let me tell you, when he finally gets those paychecks, (I’m talking at least seven years from now) he will have worked and earned every bit of it down to the last penny. And while the end result will be worth it, as for now are still at the beginning of our journey. 

So here’s my story. My point of view. How I see it. This is my canvas to vent, divulge, express and share my life and my story. Who knows, maybe I’ll be like Edwards-Jones and write a book one day too.