The Late Dr. Fizzy

Some of the residents in my program have been accused of being persistently late for the morning lectures. I'm not one of the major offenders, but I'm not the most prompt person in the world either. I'm not very late, but maybe five minutes late every now and then. Maybe once a month. Maybe a little more.

The argument is that if you're five minutes late a lot, how come you can't just leave five minutes earlier in the morning?? Good point.

I can't really use the baby excuse because other residents in the program have kids, so I mostly say something along the lines of "I'm a senior resident and I'm pretty much checked out." I'm embarrassed to admit the real truth, which is that it often is Melly that makes me late.

I have good intentions: I'm usually dressed and ready to go with plenty of time to get to work. But then sometimes as I'm walking out the door, I hear her crying... and I think to myself how rare it is that I get to see her in the morning. I almost never get to be the one to rescue her from her crib and give her a bottle while holding her. That's so much more important to me than any lecture could possibly be. I don't think my priorities are screwed up.

And of course, if I hear her cry "Mama!" there is no chance of me getting out the door on time. I'm not made of stone.

It's especially hard for me because there has never been a time in Melly's entire little life that I have NOT been a resident. Except for my 6 weeks of maternity leave, I've never gotten to have an extended period of time when I could wake up with her every morning and spend the day with her. Or even part of the day.

Those extra five minutes in the morning are all I've got and I just can't make myself walk out the door. It's well worth getting yelled at.