On Growing Up

What a historic day, and how happy I was that our noon lecture was suspended so that all of the assembled pediatrics residents and students could watch the inauguration. A few of the residents cried. Some days I am aware of my age more than others, and today was one of them. Some rotations I am so much older than my supervising intern (that's a first-year resident who has just graduated from medical school, for the uninitiated) it's embarrassing. And some rotations, I am so uninformed and uneducated that I feel 10 years younger. How much one grows as an intern, stretching from 2 hours to examine and write notes on 2 patients to shouldering 14 in the same time frame. Today, though, as I sat among the residents watching President Obama nervously bungle the Oath (okay, really, that was Chief Justice Roberts's fault), I was aware of how young the residents looked, how many of them may not have recognized the true significance of Britney Spears's "Hit Me Baby One More Time" when it first played on the radio in 1998 (I was a freshman in college, remember the exact first moment I heard that song), and how it seemed to magically coincide with Clinton's impeachment.

So what does this have to do with weddings or pediatrics? Nothing really. It's just a mini-reflection on the life of a third year, how the indignities, injustices, and minor victories can make you feel like you are weaving and dodging in and out of a medical team. There are days, more frequent now in the depth of winter, that Atlas seems a fitting metaphor. Will it ever end? Will I ever win?

PS. The venue called four times in the last 2 days to let us know that a date we were not interested in was no longer available. When I finally connected with the proprietor (that's the tough part about wards...if you don't page me, I can't respond), they seemed to have no record of our reservation. Oh, the joys of wedding planning!