I need a break from my break

Since coming to California, I have been trying to get knee surgery done. It was supposed to be easy, and I even had a surgery scheduled, but alas, but bad luck grants me a cancelled operation and another three days of headaches. Now, I will have no surgery, somehow walk around in the hospital with a torn medial meniscus for 6 months, grinning and bearing it.

Times, they are changing

I was looking through my brother's high school yearbook today and looked at what student clubs are on campus. They have a high school republican club. Then I turn the page and find a picture of three boys in tight pants and cowboy hats. Really, did I come from this town?!

Gosh, I feel old

I went out last night to grab dinner and dessert with friends and I came home at midnight and just fell asleep. I felt so old. I can't even stay up past midnight. And my body is falling apart on me. Maybe I am old. I mean, I don't even know my real birthday.

It feels good

California feels good. Granted, it's raining here and rather gloomy, but it feels good. It feels like home.

What doesn't feel good is my knee. I found out after I took my boards that I have a torn medial meniscus that needs surgical removal. Yeah, fun. What's even better is that I'm trying to navigate insurance to get my surgery done in California while I'm here because I will be on crutches for 5 days and limping for 3 weeks - time I cannot afford to take off of my 3rd year rotations.

So, I need to come up with $5,000 or convince my evil HMO (I'm convinced all HMOs are evil) to pay for it.

I'm done!

I just can't believe it. I'm actually done with the boards. I came back to my apartment yesterday after the exam and eating a basketful of fried seafood with a friend who took it with me and was just completely exhausted. Physically drained. So now, I'm awake at 6:30 am because that's what time i woke up yesterday and now I can't get back to bed. I guess I should pack. California, here I come!

3 more days

And the panic attack begins...

Where's the music coming from?

I had an MRI today (another story to be told soon) and the technician asked if I wanted to listen to music while in there. I figured why not, so I stepped onto the platform, got situated, put the headphones on, and the music started. Not until after I took the headphones off did I realize that I was still hearing the music and it was loud. The music didn't come from the headphones, as I had thought, but from the room itself. The headphones were just so I don't hear the whirring and clicking of the MRI machine. It made me laugh. The technician thought I was crazy.

My mother's age

There is a time in every woman's life when she realizes that she is her mother's age when her mother had her. For instance, this year, I am 24. My mother had me at 24. I am my mother's age (and my mother would not be happy I'm revealing her age).

Of course, I have no children. I have no husband. No white picket fence. Not even a date on Friday night. Which, for me, is what I want (well, a date on Friday night wouldn't be all that bad). I just imagined my mother, who at 24 was "old", and having her first child. I know that I couldn't do it and I admire her, and my father, for putting up with me as a kid and now.

So, what do I have to show for myself? I have a college degree and working on two graduate degrees at once. I have lived away from home since the age of 17 and love its ups and downs. I have a bright future that, someday, may involve a husband and kids. So, am I really far behind my mother? I don't like to think of it that way - rather I have taken a different path. We all reach the same destination of happiness and personal fulfillment, hopefully. My journey has just taken me 3000 miles away from my home but my mother's journey took her halfway across the globe.

The most beautiful time of day

The hour or so before sunset is beautiful. It's bright outside, not yet cold. It reminds me of neighbors taking strolls before dinner and lighthearted conversations with friends.