It's a Sunday afternoon and while most sensible people are out enjoying a precious day off, I'm at home wearing my very comfy scrubs-turned-pajamas, tuning in to Spotify while trying to unravel and understand (okay, cram) the intricacies of the autonomic nervous system.
I'm post-call and had spent the wee hours of the morning in the OR for a Bilateral Craniectomy. It sounds cooler than it actually is, given the fact that as a first year anesthesia resident I am mostly just doing anesthesia scutwork.
But as I sit here in my little spot, I think of how lucky I am to be living the good life.
Yes, I work harder than I play, and sleep off my free time. Yes, the hours are bad and the pay is not good. Yes, I have limited time with family and friends and my social life is a joke (but then again, it had always been). Yes, most people my age are living very grown-up lives with grown-up responsibilities while I still carry around huge books and highlighters, forever the student studying for a never-ending series of examinations.
To sum it up, I don't have a life.
But I am happy. Bone deep happy.
I love what I do. I love learning anesthesia. This is what I want to do until I'm too old to do it (which may never happen).
And I feel truly, truly blessed.
