Somewhere over Europe is when reality seemed to hit me. Well, actually, according to the flight map display in the airplane, we were over Northern Ireland at the time. I am going to be back in America in about 5 hours. I will be back to my residency position in less that 72 hours. My upcoming days in the ICU and on the medicine wards provoked a bit of anxiety as I tried to get myself to think through clinical conditions which I may confront. I have not taken care of somebody having a heart attack in over a year. I have not managed an adult diabetic patient in a year either-and cannot quite recall when they are suppose to have routine diabetic care stuff done. Wow, I may be a bit rusty. I am sure, though, that I will settle back into the swing of things quickly, with a few bumps and "Oh yeah, now I remember" moments.
I will have just 2 days to get some errands run when getting back. I need to upgrade my phone/PDA as it appears my palm pilot is on the fritz. I also need to get clothes out storage. I came here, to SA, with 64 kilograms, in 2 bags. I am heading back to America with 69 kilograms, which is contained in 3 bags (and sadly cost me US$150). I am not quite certain what is actually in those bags. When I was in my Jo'burg room, I began to appreciate having so few worldly possessions, and was quite amazed to find that it took 3 bags to pack up. But, I had neglected to realize that my new backpack, tent, sleeping bag, and outdoor clothes added to the accumulated goods. To manage, I also had to voluntarily redistribute some wealth, and that was in the form of a filled trash bag. After wearing the same clothes for a year, I could no longer stand to look at some of the shirts which I have word day-in, and day-out to the hospital. So, among those shirts, and the ones that I never seemed to wear, I packed them up, and stopped by to see JC, my favorite Zim patient. I am thrilled that he is likely the only person walking around Soweto in a Colorado T-Shirt, as well as Banana Republic and GAP clothes. Though I did ask him to distribute clothes amongst his friends and others in his situation. I have realized that I accumulated a ridiculous amount of clothes in my few years of residency, so was more than happy to redistribute goods. It will be nice to unpack clothes which have laid dormant for a year.
I also find myself eager to start to seriously contemplating what lies ahead for me post-residency. I have not really made much progress on an actual plan, as I have been deferring looking at real possibilities until I get back to the US, and can meet with a few of whom I have dubbed "my team of advisors." They have all known me for different lengths of time, as well as at different points from pre-med school, to medical school, to residency, and from SA, and they are all is vastly different positions (and even non-medical). Last week, I was asked countless times, why was I leaving. That was an easy explanation, but answering why I would not be back was difficult. It was difficult to explain that I will not be back in SA because I just wouldn't make enough money to pay student loans, and to pay rent, car stuff etc. It aggravates me that I have to factor in finances to what I would like to do. I would never contemplate taking the $200,000 a year hospitalist job just so that I could make a boat load of money, but I would contemplate it so that I could make a huge dent in student loans.
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