Intro/am I crazy???

Now that I have been in country for a couple weeks, seems like a good time to reflect on the past month or so and the crazy, emotional end to residency.

Let's start with how this year hit me harder than any other.  I have never been a crier, and usually bad outcomes and heartbreaking patient experiences would lead to delayed reactions where I would suddenly feel sad or withdrawn days or weeks later.  But this year was different.  This year there were more difficult events in both my personal and professional life than I had ever experienced in the past.  And it all hit me in the last few weeks of residency.  I fell apart.  I routinely cried thinking of those that I lost, those I was powerless to help, all the ways life is not fair.  I cried when I was happy. I cried when I was sad. I cried when I didn't know what I was.

It didn't help that I had committed to move to Malawi for a year.  When I applied and accepted the position months earlier, I was pumped. It was exactly what I had wanted to do for so long. Work in a resource-poor setting in a more longitudinal, sustainable way for at least a year. Education and acute care in a well-supported program. I could go on.  

Despite all that, the week before I left,  I was a mess. I underestimated packing and the time it would take to fit my life into the back of a car, and how much of my heart was in Oakland. Before I even left myself, I had to say goodbye as those I had spent some of the best (and worst moments) of my life with moved away to start new jobs and fellowships. I was stressed to the point of exhaustion trying to get rid of clothes, furniture, plants... 

So to begin, I want to thank everyone who got me here. You know who you are. You are the ones who listened to the Sad Songs Playlist with me without making fun of the fact that I even had a Sad Songs Playlist. You are the ones who reassured me I was doing the right thing every single time I asked, "Am I crazy?" and promised me that everyone was not going to completely forget me, no matter how many times I argued to the contrary. You brought me food, considered trips to get boxes and drop stuff off at the Salvation Army as social interactions, didn't give me weird looks when I got up from every savasana in tears, read all the rip-your-heart-right-out-of-your-chest poems I sent you, and even sent some back without ever telling me to shut up and get pull myself together.  

This blog is a way for me to chronicle my journey. To stay connected with those who got me here, and reach those who may learn from my experiences and struggles. So I hope you stay with me. Here goes...