#505

The way my brother tells the story, 30 years ago an alien spaceship landed on the roof of my parents' building. My parents (because they had nothing better to do) accepted delivery of an infant whose only words were "Gooboo gaba." And that's how I came to be in the world and simultaneously ruin my brother's life.

Just kidding. Happy 30th birthday to me. What a year...On reflection, this past years does not rank as the hardest year of my life (that was 16 or 24), but it has certainly been the most exhausting.

In short order:

I married Tom (duh)...

...I joined his family...

...I became a doctor...

...Tom became a doctor...

...I said goodbye to some amazing friends...

...and reunited with others...

...and became a New Yorker (again)...

...And I survived 3 months of residency, including a brutal month on "the wards" in July.

Am I perfect and where I thought I'd be? In fact, I'm far beyond what I'd imagined my life would turn out to be because I never thought I'd actually become a doctor. And yet, I'm so much more of a work in progress than I expected. I thought I would have a "life list" of things to complete before turning 30, but then there was laundry to do, and post-call sleep to catch up on, and so forth and so on...

At the end of the day, I hope that the aliens know they delivered me to the right place, and that my brother turned out to be the best steward and mentor in the universe.

To all of those I love, my birthday wish is that you know how much I love you and thank you for loving me. Exactly 15 years ago, my uncle gave me a heart-shaped necklace made out of his birthstone (amethyst) because he could not remember mine (sapphire). He justified it by saying that in Eastern cultures, the birthday girl gives gifts to their family (instead of the other way around), so his gift was a reflection of himself. I may not be flush with monetary means, but I am rich in sentiment. I hope you accept my gift.

Edit: check back later...I'll probably add some pictures, but for now I am off to my post-call nap.