Three weekday call shifts left and two more weekends. The light at the end of the tunnel is shining bright, and I am relieved to be walking towards it. The only question that remains is what will I have left of myself and my life when I get there?
I started residency with a husband who I loved more than life itself. I was codependent to a fault, never wanted to leave his side, and completely intertwined in his life. We traveled, we partied, we loved culture and we took in as much of the world together as humanly possible. Maybe the joyful times we had did not come with enough of the tough conversations that would have made getting through these long years of residency easier but it was the best time of my life.
Surgical residency is like a vacuum. It not only sucks you in but sucks the life you had out of you. The process conforms you into a new person that is able to withstand death, dying, and making incredibly tough decisions as easily as some people handle making dinner plans.
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