Short cut

One of the biggest time saving/life hack successes our family can claim is that I cut my boys’/ husband’s hair. The fact that I do this and they are not walking around with bowl cuts or bearing deep scars of humiliation daily is a point of victory. I mean, they pass for having normal hair!

It all started when our first boy turned of age to require regular haircuts as a toddler. We quickly realized what a time suck this would be for the rest of the forseeable future. Not to mention The Husband who is not a fan of time sucks as well. In fact, spending the time to go somewhere, wait, and get his hair cut was such a loathsome, pedestrian, tiresome task for him. He’s military and his special hair needs are minimal.

I forgot whose idea it was exactly that I should try giving The Husband a clippers cut. I’m not sure it would have been me since my last experience giving anyone a clippers cut was when I gave my younger brother a trial run with a pair of clippers when I was 16 and he was 11, and it did not go well. Immediate professional rescue required. When I say it did not go well, I’m not exaggerating. Think Britney during her troubled phase. However, somehow we ended up with a home clippers set and next thing I knew, The Husband was taking a quick drink to “steady his nerves” prior to my first adult foray with the clippers. Mind you, I read the little style manual and watched some YouTube videos. The result: Passable! Not bad! I continued to cut his hair and then our son’s hair with the same basic formula and marveled at the ease and glorious time savings. Then our second son was born and for awhile, I cut all 3 of their hair every 2-3 weeks for YEARS. I’ve gotten to be decent and while I can only really do one style, it’s all that’s been needed. My biggest compliments are when someone says, "Did ____ get a hair cut? It looks nice!" and the implication is that someone other than me cut it. Oldest son, 11, has only just graduated to professionals since he has developed advanced needs involving scissors and gel.

Over the years, I've often joked about wanting to do an apprenticeship at Spiro's, the local barber shop, but only half-jokingly. I often find myself staring at the back of men's heads to appreciate the smooth tapers. I guess if this medicine thing doesn't work out, I can start training in earnest.

Acknowledging and Attending - the first few months

I'm about 3 months in into my first after-residency attending job. I really underestimated how hard this was going to be.

Logically, this shouldn't be surprising. I uprooted my family from a large metro area, plopped them down into a rural community where our nearest ties were about 2 hours away by car, and started a new job. I had a wonderful few months playing stay-at-home mom, then started my new clinic job refreshed and enthusiastic.

What took me by surprise was how unconfident I felt about everything. Once I was done seeing my first patient, I immediately went to find the nurse practitioner down the hall to run my plan by her. I knew it would feel weird not to precept as a resident, so I gave myself a break the first few days. I got some reassuring texts from other recent graduates, telling me they had done the same thing when they first started. For a while, it felt like every new patient was the first time I had ever treated that condition (insert: asthma, allergies, COPD, coronary artery disease, etc.) even if I had seen it and treated it confidently many times in residency. It's getting better, but it still feels that way more than I think it should

I had done my residency training in an urban setting treating young diverse families, and within my first couple weeks in my new job, I felt like I had met more people over the age of 90 than I had ever met before. Additionally, I was in a new system with different specialty and subspecialty resource availability and it felt like the referral patterns were completely different. I have felt like I was both under-referring and over-referring depending on the issue. I also still feel like I am over working up some problems and probably not working other problems up enough. Additionally, my husband's work has been more demanding than usual and Toddler is on his 3rd ear infection in the past two months so there has been a little more scrambling than anticipated.

Luckily, I know I'm not alone. My best friend from medical school started her new primary care job the same week I did - and we've talked at least weekly since, running our cases and insecurities by each other. I just came back from a mini-reunion dinner with my residency classmates, and I know they're all experiencing similar things.

One of my good friends moved across the country to do a primary care nurse practitioner residency and is blogging about her adventures. She recently had one tough week of both life and career difficulties and wrote about acknowledging that it has been hard. Not complaining. Just acknowledging. I don't think we give ourselves permission to simply acknowledge the difficulties of our situations. I am looking back over the past few months, and I know I have made at least some good medical decisions thus far, and people are coming back to see me which is probably a good sign.

I have decided that I am going to acknowledge that these past few months have been difficult, but I'm also going to embrace that this is a time of immense growth and I will never have a chance again to experience anything like this year. I am going to accept that I have already made mistakes, and I will make more. I'm going to also acknowledge that I am a good mom  and a good doctor, and will continue to wake up and try again the next day.

Kicks

Thank you to those who make me feel like I belong.

I just got back from a major Emergency Medicine conference, and I was absolutely blown away by the amount of female leadership- in academia, giving keynote lectures, as heads of committees, emerging true pioneers, established industry leaders,  influencers, and all- around powerhouses.  I was inspired, but had another feeling that I failed to identify all week long.

Now that the whirlwind of lectures, networking, and dinners are over, I have time to reflect. This time helped me figure out what I was feeling the past few days that buoyed my spirits and helped me immerse myself in the conference and fully engage. I felt like I belonged. Just as I am. Just as I hope to be.

Most of my mentors in medicine (except a select few, to whom I am forever grateful) have been men. Our residency leadership is mostly men. Amazing, supportive, brilliant, kind, respectful men. But the persistent image of women at the forefront, on the stage, with a wide collection of varied interests, personalities, speaking styles, and expertise, made me realize that I do belong. We all belong, simply by being there. I'm not an anomaly, an outlier, a "diversity" player. I do not have to fit into any specific "women in medicine" category. So many before me have broken glass ceilings, normalized positions at the table, and have dedicated so much time, energy, and sacrifice, for me, and this current generation of upcoming doctors, to feel like they belong.

So thank you. I'm honored to be in a specialty that is evolving, and I'm grateful to feel hopeful, not frustrated, at my future position within the house of medicine that is my calling.

When I was applying to medical school a decade ago (!!) I turned to this blog for help. I felt lonely, unsure, intimidated. I didn't know if I belonged, where I belonged, how I could continue to belong. Now, about to graduate from residency, I feel grateful. Grateful for this online community that is a source of inspiration and empathy, and grateful for the leaders who continue to show the world that we belong, in every way.