Frantic Fissures

It's 2 AM in the hospital, and I realize that I am only 4.5 weeks away from finishing my intern year. One 365-day block of my precious 20-something years, given to a pediatric residency. It's a sacrifice, an austerity that continues to induce "oooh" and "awww" and "my poor baby" filled conversations with my parents. My eyelids are heavy from my picnic-less Memorial holiday, and my clogged feet drag from the admissions that I know lie in the 5.5 hours I have left.

So many thoughts plague run along my cerebral fissures: Have I really learned anything? Will the new interns school me with their knowledge and questions? Do I have the stamina for a rigorous ICU filled second year of residency? How ingenious am I to have Top Spice delivered for dinner today?

I can only act and refrain from too much thought (albeit thought during an hospital admsision warrants some merit).

I must brush my teeth to rid my enamel of the thai spices that cling to my incisors.

I must blog on call.

I must get to the theatre and watch Shrek 3.

I must devour dosas Bhima-style tonight at All-You-Can-Eat dosa night.

I think I'm slightly delirious.

Happy Birthday Dr. Wolf. Did you know that the Sears Tower was built the year he was born???

And the pager goes OFF!