Trampled

I can barely see as I am typing this. My left eye is swollen shut and rather than ask my very kind and generous hosts if perhaps they have some Benadryl and/or maybe a hit of Reactine, I am hiding out in my room, flushing contact solution into it, and hoping that a good night of sleep will erase my horrific, dysmorphic appearance. The people at the children’s hospital in Calgary already seem distrustful of me. I would hate to fuel their suspicions by walking in there tomorrow looking like I was in a bar brawl overnight. Truth is, I am just ridiculously allergic to dogs – well my left eye is anyway.

So there you have it. My first elective finds me out in Cowtown and doing pediatric nephrology for the next 3 weeks. It is super cerebral and generally right over my head. I feel stupid every minute of the day. This morning around 10:30 am, it hit me like a tonne of bricks that I do not actually want to be a pediatrician. Don’t get me wrong, I love the little muffins, and they seem to like me too, I just cannot bear the thought of doing a long residency, with ridiculous call, only to then have a lifestyle which is equally crazy in its’ own way. So, this week I am pretty sure I would like to pursue a career in child and adolescent psychiatry. I reserve the right to change my mind at a moment’s notice.

Calgary is pretty nice, though they are calling for rain and even snow by the end of the week. I am staying with 2 of my good friends out here. It’s pretty great being able to stay with people you know any like, especially when they are super kind and generous. It must feel like quite an imposition to have someone stay at your place for 3 full weeks, and yet they’ve been super cool. They also have a very cute dog, Clara, whom I will not be touching again during my stay here, unfortunately. I am debating walking to the store in my pyjamas. My eye is a slit, with a puffy, edematous golf-ball looking lid. There is sticky discharge.

The bed I am sleeping in is very comfortable and the neighbourhood is super interesting. But I miss my roommate, Bobcat. Plus, I feel like I have shit to do back home. Whoever said fourth year is fun was stupid and wrong.

I have to order my grad photos by tomorrow and they are a complete travesty. I can hardly bring myself to look at them, much less pay money to have them enlarged. I’d rather be paying to have them disappear.

That’s all I’ve got for now. I’m sure I’ll have some good stories over the course of this 3 weeks. Like this morning, when I looked at the sleeve of my cream coloured jacket after about 4 hours of clinic, and realized it was absolutely covered in some sticky brown material that smelled like banana, but looked like poo. Everyone had seen it hours before exept me. I wanted to die.

xot