it's okay

This transition hasn't been too easy so far. It hasn't been crazy difficult, but in all honesty there are waves of anxiety that even when interrupted by calmness contribute to a general undercurrent of discomfort. So it's been important for me to actively breathe after each frustration, remember context, and appreciate. There's been a lot of opportunity to practice this...

I haven't found a place to live. Last week, my first day of physically looking at places threw me into a window of depression that lasted until I decided to block out reality and visit M in La Jolla, stat. That was a beautiful time. During it, I missed getting a place that was the most ideal of what I've seen so far. I was pretty disappointed when I first heard that I didn't get it, mainly due to not being in town (by a matter of one day; this market is even crazier in experience than in rumor). But before that, I'd been anxious deciding over another place. Finding the second one, even though I didn't get it, made it more clear that I was right to pass on the first one. And makes me more open to taking things in stride. It sucks to be starting work next week not having settled into a place yet, but I know it's just a matter of patience.

I don't know a whole lot of what's going on, knowledge-wise and logistics-wise. Our first two days of orientation were BLS and ACLS training, which required an online course to pass before taking the actual class. There was a pre-assessment test, simulations of a dozen patient scenarios that you have to repeat until you manage them correctly, and an exam at the end. I failed all of these horribly multiple times, which fed my general sense of being more unprepared than most, because I've spent the majority of the last two years outside of medical knowledge. But at the actual orientation there was a general consensus that the training had been pretty hard, and I reminded myself that in groups I'm not that different, in either good or bad ways. And also that even if it was harder for me, that's okay too.

Because the online stuff took longer than I anticipated, I was running late to the actual training, which also flustered me for being out of it for my very first day. But I learned how to maneuver the crowded streets of SF more easily, and managed to be only a little late. And when I got there, a nice man who'd retired and was now volunteering at the VA, transporting vets to and from the parking lot to other areas of the hospital, offered to drive me on his cart from the parking lot to where I needed to go. Even though this roundabout drive actually took longer than walking, it was nice to be taken somewhere when I'd just been worrying about figuring things out. And the next day, when I returned to the VA for the second day of training and again running late because I hadn't accounted for how long it would take to find parking, another nice man let me park in a non-parking spot because he knew I wouldn't be able to find an official one. I haven't been very on top of the logistics of these things--I didn't plan for parking, I didn't even know I had to do the ACLS training until a couple days before, and I'd forgotten to check my residency email where apparently a lot of information has been sent. I also lost all of my ACLS online training after I'd completed it. I've sent our administrator no less than a dozen emails, with questions that had often been already answered in previous emails, and with questions about other mistakes (one being losing my ACLS online training), so have concretely established this sense that I don't know what's going on. I noticed that I started becoming like this at the beginning of med school...having things work out in unexpected ways for me in med school made me unconsciously loosen a little of my desire to be in control of everything, and I think that's been a good thing overall. After all, if I didn't know, more than one of my classmates definitely did. In the beginning of a transition like this one, it can be uncomfortable to be out of the loop, but I still got my BLS/ACLS certifications, and I'll figure it out eventually. While I don't think I should drop all efforts to be in the know, I'm also learning to be more comfortable with not being on top of every single thing.

Which brings me to other things I can't control, with the top one currently being the traffic in this city. The drivers here are both extremely impatient and extremely slow, which I don't understand. I find that traffic is the best practice for calming techniques, and even interpersonal relations. I have to remember not to judge too harshly because I'm not the best driver either and I make lots of mistakes like having to switch lanes at inopportune times and interrupting others' lane spaces when trying to get around something. At the same time, I haven't been able to resist getting mad and honking when someone has done something clearly inconsiderate. Turning left to get onto the bridge, when I clearly have the right of way to go straight, just because you're impatient to get on a jammed road? That one really blew my mind. It also made me think that when we're behind, we're so eager to gain inches. Not to say that those inches don't add up; I think sometimes that they do, but maybe are not the worth the expense of principle. Frustration with traffic led me to public transportation, which led to another, unexpected level of frustration that also took some active effort to calm through.

So I haven't felt this underlying anxiety about a phase in my life for awhile. I think a big part of it is that I'm used to things generally working out. I've been incredibly lucky in that sense. But remembering in retrospect is tricky, and I think that a few other factors contribute to my memory of the past. One, I've forgotten the degree of logistical and emotional anxieties. Two, the positives overwhelm the negatives in my memory. Which lead me to now. These anxieties will smooth themselves and in the midst of them I'm still incredibly lucky. I have a luxurious apartment with gorgeous views to stay in while I'm looking for a place, a brother who lets me stay there and supports me through the difficulties. I have a few old friends in the area who look out for me in such thoughtful ways, from seeking out my company when I'm down to checking out apartments for me. I've already met some wonderful people in my program. I live in the Bay Area, and the San Francisco June has been unusually, unbelievably warm and sun-full. M sent me a birthday gift of a framed print of Andrew Wyeth's Master Bedroom: http://www.nytimes.com/2009/01/17/arts/design/17deba.html?pagewanted=all

Before I left La Jolla for graduation, I wanted to spend a little time objectively describing artwork to M, an activity we once did in med school and I found to be useful in sharpening observations. This is one I chose to describe to him; it was new to me at the time, and as we talked about it, we discovered an affection for it. For the simple lines and sentiment. It exudes a calm that's fitting at a time when I'm anticipating--when I don't have a bedroom yet but now have something to place in it when I do. I'm so lucky for this feeling, and for him.

And I get to start.