I've taken up a new hobby since my last post. Growing marker bouquets.
Granted, starting out slow, but I think soon I shall have to try thicker font, and then maybe I'll start expanding the color selection. But I figure if I'm going to go back to the beginning and start all over again from scratch, might as well do it properly.
Taking my nephews on my birthday Starbucks run!
No clever intro for this one. Been staring at the cursor for nigh on 10 minutes at this point with no progress. Might as well rip the band-aide off.
I received my results yesterday, and "It was the consensus of my examiners that my performance during the examination was not at the level required for certification."
Ouch. I've been here before, that bitter taste of failure. The feeling of ridicule from the surgical community. Being not enough, not good enough, and the worst, not safe enough. As you can imagine, Satan can take these lies and wreck havoc.
But it wasn't failure, or even Satan, that I struggled with this time. It was finally admitting fear.
I stared at my screen with its red FAIL clear and well illuminated. Maybe if I blinked enough times it would magically change. But it didn't, and with shoulders slumped in admitted defeat I faced the fact that I had to do it all again. He turned me then, gently, but He turned me to face what I had put down two weeks ago. His instruction wasn't harsh, wasn't severe, wasn't even chastising, "Pick it up again." That's when I cried.
We all have our crosses to bear. They come in all different shapes and sizes. Some so heavy and carried for so long, that we feel we can't make it another step. But truthfully none bigger than what we can bear. Yet, in that moment, in my weakness, I couldn't jump to pick it up as instructed. Instead, I looked at it face on for the first time in my life, and He didn't chide me for pausing, He stayed next to me patiently waiting as always. I can't explain exactly what I saw through my blurred vision, but for the first time I was able to see it for what it was. Fear.
No, I do not think God wants me to be afraid. But I do think that He wants me to know Him as El Shaddai; The All-Sufficient One. Living on my own for many years now, and taking it one day at a time. I carried my cross as bravely as I could. Bravely, unfortunately, in my dictionary ment without acknowledging its presence. I had to be tough. And again in my dictionary, tough ment without fear. I think it's time I find a new dictionary. Because I am afraid. Afraid of speaking. Afraid of saying the wrong thing. Afraid of making a poor decision. Afraid of hurting someone. Afraid of making it to the end and not hearing those words "well done, thou good and faithful servant". And where I am afraid, I am weak.
2 Corinthians 12:9-10 And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.
I never despised a verse before, but last night, as a few friends and I discussed El Shaddai, this verse filled me with a sense of alarm, almost as if I'd never actually understood it before. In that moment, I would have rather done almost anything than to glory in my infirmities, my weaknesses and my fears. And with shame I wondered if I had ever. Recognizing my nothingness in service of my Savior is one thing, but my walk.... I was very purposeful about keeping my shoulders back, whether that was down the street in Mexico, or through the hallway in the hospital, or preparing for my oral board exam.
So taking this cross again, I do not know where Jesus will lead, but I will follow. I am not about to think that by admitting fear, will erase fear. It may be even more daunting this time, as should I fail, I'll be left with only one more attempt. Stakes are higher. But by acknowledging it, does help me accept it, and then maybe I can learn to live with it, and dare I say even glory in it.
Much Love.
I'm glad I ran with the momentum spurred by the post-oral-board-surreal high last Monday and put down the previous blog post. It was after I finished that post, I unfortunately, made a bad decision. Granted wasn't aware how poor my decision would be until it was too late. I had decided to list the case topics I was given during my oral boards. Just for funsies, you know, to share with colleagues in the future, or potentially for future studying etc. As I recalled each topic, naturally the case replayed in my head, and one by one I started to realize everything I had said wrong, mismanaged, poorly staged and by following the corresponding algorithm, offered incorrect treatment. The process had an effect that snowballed into an avalanche and that surreal adrenaline rush ended as fast as one would plummet off a cliff. There it was! There was that disappointment I had been expecting! Hello, old friend, and oh-so-reliable, loyal even.
Having my normal post-exam despondency renewed and intact once again. I set about seeking to fulfill the typical need for distraction that goes hand-in-hand with such despondency. 1) Started into the pile of books I've had on my reading list for years. Even took out a library card with determination to make a dent in said list. 2) My partners, responding to my request for additional responsibility, have entered a new contract with a nearby community hospital. Now is a bunch of paperwork to expand my privileges to that hospital, and then starting in November, Lord willing, I will be covering clinic and outpatient surgery there once a week. 3) Last but not least, attempting to make it through my hastily dumped pile of mail, bills, license renewals and the like which had accumulated over the past couple of months, ignored on the principle that studying and focusing on my boards took priority.
I would have loved to fly away as part of my "distraction" and explore a new corner of this world, but honestly, by adhering to my existing call schedule in Lafayette, with the additions of the distractions listed above, there really wasn't much room to give any extended way to despondency. In addition, I was able to visit Illinois to see my nephews for my birthday. Happy birthday to me!
Much Love!
Laughter. That was my reaction to the dramatic finish of my oral boards.
Not quite sure what I was expecting. Dread maybe. Disappointment probably. But definitely not laughter.
I had struggled a bit on my last case. Taken my patient to the operating room and performed a surgery but before I could leave the OR my examiner kept asking me the same question, just rewording it three different ways. My answer was the same management each time. I couldn't get what he wanted, or what I was missing. He finally lets me leave the OR and I continue management in the ICU. He fastforwards my timeline to hospital day 10, at which time I then decide to trach my patient. His voice jumps a full octave to exclaim, "Ok, thank you!" and he immediately leaves the zoom meeting. I cracked up laughing. I couldn't help it. I had no idea how I had done. But it was over.
Was the laughter from relief? Was it from the dramatic flare of a finish? Or have I finally officially driven myself crazy over this? Combination of all three?
Once I stopped laughing, the most surreal feeling began to set in. I have dreaded oral boards for the last 7 years. As a prelim, when I was 99.93% sure I was not to have a future in surgery and felt like my heart would break at the idea. Trying to grasp at any positive thought, one of the very few I could find at the time was 'at least I wouldn't have to stand for oral boards.' Ha. Such distant memories now. God is good, and I was blessed to be able to continue in surgery. Every day I performed a surgery, every day I studied, every ABSITE, every day in preparation for the future, in preparation for oral boards.
I honestly can't say right now if I feel like I passed or failed, it's pretty complicated, and this surreal feeling is rather overwhelming at the moment. There is one thing I know though, for which I am incredibly thankful, I didn't freeze during the exam.
I suffer from a rather annoying disorder that causes my brain to blank when I am asked a question. Doesn't matter if I know the answer or not, because in the moment, I am left with nothing. As you can imagine, it fuels a bit of preexisting anxiety and dread of presentations. Hence my reference of M&M presentations in the last post. I always had to view them as oral board practice to prevent myself from running in the opposite direction. It was my principal fear facing this exam, not being able to say anything, and those quick seven minutes per case flying by before I could even give a patient a fluid bolus let alone diagnose and treat.
But I didn't freeze. I was able to talk, to respond, to answer. I will find out in a couple of weeks if those words/responses/decisions were deemed safe and acceptable. But for now, I am thankful. I know there were many prayers said on my behalf for this exam. I felt every one of them, and know they are the reason I was able to speak.
Much Love.
