I spent my first four weeks of third year in
Pediatric inpatient at Memorial Hermann hospital. I found a note I had jotted
down during my time there in my backpack today:
How humbling to
be in love and to be so prostrated by inability to control the ones we love.
These parents are tied by (obligation, some) body and soul to their offspring,
flailing now in front of me with a plethora of incapacitating diagnoses. What
can they do? What can they offer? I feel tired with their burden and I have
only just arrived on the scene. This hospital stay and each of the previous may
blend together for them… this is their life. I go home each day and no one
comes in my room at all hours of the night to check this or that vital,
administer this or that med…and I complain of fatigue. Their faces are tired.
How can we even expect them to function after so many nights in this worst of
hotels? And how can we expect their kids to acquire the maturity their chronic
illnesses or even acute tribulations will demand when our very system is
weakening their support? These situations instill fear in my already worried
mind—how do people avoid this? How can I ever have a normal kid? Could I be as
strong as these parents if my offspring demanded it? How would that feel to be
so intractably in love and forcibly humbled?
Now I am on Pediatrics outpatient at LBJ so here are
my current thoughts:
Quiero un bebe
sano que tiene dos semanas o seis meses.
I speak in Spanish the majority of the day because
the patient population at LBJ does not speak English. Also babies do not really
speak English. And I love babies (especially the 2-weekers…and those 6-monthers
are pretty adorable as well). Needless to say, I am quite content on this
rotation.
Triple Berry Bundt
I mostly followed the recipe off http://smittenkitchen.com/2012/06/triple-berry-summer-buttermilk-bundt/
Note to anyone reading into the above: I still have not decided what to do with my life.
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