Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Glum

Today I don't feel better. I feel sad sad horribly sad and bad and a little bit mad. I guess it comes in waves. We went to my favorite restaurant this weekend but lo! Ther was half the residency celebrating R____'s baby boy, who is to be delivered by c-section in less than two weeks. And of course I ended up sitting beside her in clinic today, and she asked me when Husband and I are planning on children. I told her what had happened. I changed the subject but it was a hard day. And yesterday I felt sad too. When my grandmother asks me if there's any news I tell her it will take months -- if we're lucky. And then I get sad thinking about it. I don't feel like doing anything all day but curling up crying. I haven't even an interest in reading about my patients. I try to force myself to care about them and at least to focus when I'm at work but it's such a struggle...even today I am afraid I should have appreciated that my patient had osteomyelitis and not just soft-tissue infection. Actually I don't know yet that he does have osteomyelitis because I tried to probe to bone with a metal probe but wasn't sure what I felt (having never tried before), and the imaging is pending. But what if I wasn't treating him with appropriate antibiotics? What if I narrowed the spectrum too soon? What if I's my fault he ends up with a BKA? That is completely unacceptable. I should never had been given an MD.

But mostly I just spend most of the day thinking about the baby I had and didn't have and won't have, and the babies I am afraid I won't have, and being sad. Even when I'm interviewing a patient, or examining a urine slide and Dr. J________ is teaching me about tubular cell casts, I've got babies on the brain. I feel tired all the time and nothing really seems like fun. I don't even feel like taking a walk. I feel only like curling up with my childhood security blanket and crying.

At least it will soon be September. September means ACP State Chapter meeting with the amazing, awesome, Thieves' Market (David Scrase rules!) and my best friend is visiting and then it's Rosh Hashanah. I love the new year, the family all gathered together, the start of fall, and of course the feast. And again I will pray that God finds me meritous this year and grants me children. But I'm pessimistic. And I'm angry. I prayed so hard and it brought me only heartache. Another new year without a baby. How many more?

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