Beginning of the End

This week marked the beginning of the end. I have officially 6 weeks left of residency. I never would have predicted such a finish to my residency career. There have been so many changes, so many new experiences over the past month.

I was supposed to finish my year with a rotation on oncology which was squashed by COVID. My final rotation was supposed to be three weeks of nights followed by three weeks of day shift on the labor floor. Now, I'll have a week-on, week-off schedule until June (unless something changes)  so I won't be doing anything except the night shift until the middle of June and I'll finish out my time here at Brown doing a week in the outpatient clinic. Intermixed I'll be off service and able to bake up a storm.

We're definitely all things COVID with simulated patient experiences to help us get better at transferring patients to the labor floor or the OR in the safest way possible

We're donning new scrub caps and masks made by friends, family members, and strangers. 

I don't know if (or how much) my end-of-the-year schedule will change as the world may progress to "re-opening" but it's definitely not what I had in mind.

Delivering babies is something I will never do again (unless there's a surprise birth in an airplane or other public space!) and in that sense I've enjoyed the chance to deliver the last few. I will say though, delivering COVID babies is a totally different life experience and often so so sad. 

Can you imagine delivering your baby and then never getting to hold it? Just--whisked away to an isolated baby pram without knowing exactly when you're able to see him/her and limited from that ever-so-important skin to skin contact. I just want to hold all the babies for their mothers because I can see in their eyes the pain they have from not getting to hold them. The worst is the newest mothers who hear their baby cry and are pained further by not holding them, not necessarily recognizing that we want the babies to cry in the beginning to clear their lungs from fluid.

Oof. it's all heavy. 

So, I wash it away with knowing my baby is doing well, growing strong, and --not to be gross, is learning how to poop in the potty!!! 

We've been house hunting in Houston which has translated to A LOT of hours spent online looking into rental properties and skype tours. 

We've listed John and Diana's home on redfin to be sold and we've had a LOT of hits (too bad we can't just put their house in Houston and we'd be set!) 

Keeping perspective can be hard in times like this. We're young, we're healthy, we're together, and I get the chance to serve some women that are going through the toughest days of their lives when they should be the most precious. 

Perspective was all the more real when we discovered some of Grammy Jean's ashes in the boxes that were shipped with all the heirlooms. Per the note written inside the urn, she wanted her ashes to be spread in the ocean. So, we got to say goodbye to Grammy Jean and lay her to rest in the water where she wanted. 

It was definitely surreal.

Well, it's 4 AM, I just delivered a COVID baby, and I'm craving sleep. I hope you all are snuggled in your homes, enjoying your time with family and remember that this will be over and while our lives will never be the same, no feeling is final and hopefully we can better ourselves as a result of the perspective changes we've all been forced into as a result of this pandemic. 

Have a good night, good morning, or as Adler says "have a good later."