Gratitude

I've been thinking a lot lately about gratitude, and expressing it. I'm on my critical care rotation, and I'm getting accustomed to watching patients die. That doesn't bother me as you'd expect - I'm learning that to a point there's only so much we can do for a person, and past the best we can do is a realm where they either live or they don't. It's not up to us.

I don't feel guilt for those lives because I know we've done everything we can. I'm sad, and I regret that they die, but I understand that it was not because of something we did or didn't do. On my first day my preceptor told me that I would have to get used to watching patients die, and that I would have to be able to handle it. I'm glad he gave me that warning, and I think I've been handling it well so far.


I've watched an organ harvest, and absorbed the fact that five people minimum will lead new lives because a 22 year old died (admittedly, there was a lot of crying and some alcohol involved in coming to terms with this). I've watched patients die, surrounded by family members who had the chance to say goodbye. I've watched patients die without lasting long enough for family to reach them to say their farewells. I've watched patients everyone was sure were done for recover, and leave the ICU. This has been the most intense, fast-paced experience I've yet had.

It's been an especially hard rotation emotionally for me. I'm learning a great deal and I'm grateful every day for the opportunities I've been given. I'm able to see critically ill patients and I'm able to help them get better. But I'm also encountering situations where nothing we can do will help. It's been difficult to come to terms with this, but I'm learning.

All I can feel at this point is an overwhelming gratitude for everything I have. For parents willing to sacrifice enough to give me the opportunity to get out of school debt free. For the fantastic friends I have, and the friends I've made here in Reno. For the chance to become friends with musicians I admire and respect, and for the chance to be helped through a vulnerable place by these same friends.

I'm grateful for the opportunities I've gotten for coming here for this last year of school, and for the fact that I'm happier now than I have been in three years. It's been a real struggle up to this point, because of the overwhelming pressure and depression I've been pushing through for the last three years. I feel like this is where I'm supposed to be at this point in my life and I'm truly, honestly, happy.

I'm grateful for the help and guidance of my professors and mentors, who spent countless hours helping me prepare for my residency applications - and for the burgeoning results of those applications. I have a decent shot at my dream job next year, and it's thanks to the efforts of those who support me.

I know this isn't a fun or funny post, but I've had this on my mind for a while, and wanted to get it out there. More accordion madness will be forthcoming.

Benvolio Returns!

Earlier this year my delightful accordion Benvolio tried to kill himself. I was able to get him repaired thanks to the magical musicare man in Idaho Falls, and got to bring Benvolio home when I returned to Reno after Christmas.

Then Cassidy and I discovered that the two teen boys who live below us are incredibly loud. Yelling loud. Wrestling loud. Screaming obscenities at 11 p.m. when we're trying to study loud. Usually we keep quiet and put up with it, even when their music throbs so hard the flowers on the table shake.

Until today.

Today, those little bastards got a taste of what the next few months will be like.




Oh yes, there will actually be accordion videos on this accordion themed blog. Pretend the last one I posted wasn't two years ago.

I spent a good hour and a half practicing Benvolio (after half an hour of squeaky clarinet) and had to replay that a good fifteen times.

Then I decided to attempt recording Spanish Ladies - motivated by the fact that whenever I pull out the accordion my father demands that I play it. I have this book of sea chanteys, and while it is wonderful and full of interesting information, there are no chords. Therefore it takes me far longer to figure out what chords to use than how to play the melodies.








I must have played this, and nothing but this, for twenty minutes.


Those two are not prepared for the accordion-ing.



Yes, I know I made a bunch of mistakes and it doesn't sound very good, but this is a PROCESS.

Stress

We're just going to pretend that it hasn't been six months since I've updated.

Yes, yes we are.

To very briefly sum up: it was a busy summer, it's been a busy semester. Story of my life. I'm now proficient at performing brain surgery on rats, and have been touched by the gods of IV surgeries. Seriously, I have magic hands. I can cut open a rat, find the main artery, tie it off, insert a needle and then catheter into the heart, and then tie it up. And the rat survives.

I'm not so great at putting the rats under anesthetic, however. (Tip: when you hit the liver, the rat dies instantly. And the lab's 'No Rat Left Behind' surgery day fails.)

That was most of my summer - working in the lab of one of the pharmacy professors, while still working at Shaver's. I worked 13 days in a row all summer and generally had no time off.

This semester has been insane. Modules are always fast paced, but this seems more intense than last year. We're finishing up the second infectious disease module right now. I have been devouring these topics, and feel even more confident that infectious disease is what I want to do. It's absolutely fascinating. I've also been shadowing an expert pharmacist in a local HIV clinic, and have discovered some interesting things about how I view patients.

What can be one of the most frustrating parts of working with the general public is patients with progressive, preventable diseases. It's hard to see patients who are at the tail end of a condition when at literally *every step* along the progression of this disease, patients have been told what they can do to improve and/or reverse part of their condition. Invariably, they chose not to act on this information. These are diseases that need patient involvement and commitment to see any real improvement and more often than not it just isn't there. Things like cholesterol, hypertension, or type II diabetes - in a majority of cases, when caught early, lifestyle changes are enough. If patients don't put forth the effort, nothing I can do will help them. It's hard to watch that and not be able to do anything and it gets frustrating.

However, I have nothing but empathy for the HIV patients I see. It probably helps that a majority of the ones I've spoken with are very proactive when it comes to their health and have done the legwork on their part to understand the disease.

I think it comes down to having more empathy with anyone who takes the time to understand their disease and at least makes an effort to help themselves. Lifestyle changes aren't always enough, and that's when I'm supposed to be there.

This is something I need to work on.

Another reason this semester has been insane is because I'm the chair of the pharmacy fair. I've worked with a wonderful committee for a year to convince companies to come and interview students, hopefully for positions. It was already stressful with the tanking economy and resulting reluctance to attend in companies, but then a selection of students decided my efforts were all in vain and it wasn't worth their time to attend. Enter a month long battle with scheduling, angry e-mails, and general excessive drama. What happened to professionalism? What happened to enjoying an opportunity to bond with your fellow students? To practice interviewing with companies you will be dealing with at some point in your career?

This is a very contained version of the frustration I've had over the last months, but thankfully it's over now and the fair went well. And I only came close to slaughtering my fellow students a few times (blood is so hard to get out of suit fabric). The worst was when a student was verbally attacking a recruiter in front of approximately 150 people - had I not been in another room watching with utter horror on camera, there would have been blood. Someone actually yelled "Go get her, Kirstin!"

Unfortunately, I have four days to study for the final of the second infectious disease module. Such is life.

I promise I'll be updating more though.