Climbing the ladder

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    It’s been a while since people have heard from me. 1 1/2 years I think.

    The last time you all heard from me I was in NM and now I have been accepted into a Pediatric residency in CA. Who knew. I never thought I would wind up in California. I also viewed CA as a place I’d never move too. I really like the program I signed up with… However, I don’t like the tract I chose. Well let me rephrase that I a few things. I like that I generally only work 60-70hrs per week and have most weekends off. But I don’t like were they have me practicing at. I spend half of my time at the prestigious hospital that most people are aware of and the other half of time at county hospital undergoing a revamp. While I love the patient population I serve, I don’t appreciate the residents I work with. When I’m at on the wards I work with family medicine residents who are mean and defensive. Some of the attendings are good and some are way to overbearing.

    So I’m in a new city and new residency. More to come.

    Alana JjAlana Jj

    I’m a bit confused …. So your transitioning from nurse manager to MD?

    I ask because that is the exact same thing I am hoping to do. Having a really rough time even getting through MCAT studying !
    Can you share more about how you went about this? Do you have a family?
    Thanks! Have a great day!


    So it’s another late night. However this time I’m up because I can’t sleep. But before I get into to why, a bit of clarification is needed. Although I was in nursing school for by BSN, I did not finish. I was just a month shy of completing my first year before I dropped out. The NM stands for New Mexico. I hope that clarifies things.

    With that being said a bit more about my story. My mom had seven children and I was oldest of the second bunch. There was a 5 year gap between me and my older sister. She and I were the only girls. She lived with us occasionally so it was mainly be in a house full of boys. My mom was a single mom, so I often felt obliged to not add any additional stress to her life. I was a good kid. I rarely got into trouble. I tried not to ask for much. We were poor and I realized in middle school that good grades would be my ticket out of poverty.

    I will talk more about my past, but now I want to vent about my current situation. As mentioned in my previous post I’m in my second year of pediatric residency in California. It was my hope that once I moved here I would not have to move. My children already gave up a lot by moving from NM to here. I didn’t want that to move again to try and some stability to their lives. But guess what, I’m having to move. The house we were renting flooded when we where on vacation in July. Since July we have been staying in a hotel. It was fine the first couple of months, but by the third month I grew impatient. I duped myself into paying full month while in the hotel. Even though it was nice, it was essentially a 2 bedroom apartment downgraded from my 3 bedroom house. I grew tired of my landlord constantly extending the date. My mom doesn’t like to drive, especially in California traffic, but she faced with commuting my children to and from school every day. She has HTN and after she had a hypertensive emergency (210/108), which we initially thought was a heart attack, I had enough. I sent my landlord a letter requesting he give me a week notice before any change in the date. The house was due to be finished on the 31st and it was the 24th. I did not hear back from him. I texted and called. No answer. Finally 29th he responds. “Sorry I was out of the country, will be by tomorrow to pick up the rent and the mail”. That was it I was furious. So without consulting my mother I sent him an email stating I was going to be moving. I had already put in my 30 day notice back in August, so I knew I was covered. I ask him did he read my emails, yes he said, the house is (miraculously) ready and my furniture would be moved by in on the 3rd. This was surprising to me because I had been monitoring the status of the house periodically and a few days prior to that their were people working on it. I went by at 8pm one that last month and someone was working on the house. Which is funny, because they could have worked during the day all the other days the house just sat there. But any who I digress. So thinking the read both emails and since I felt bad for acting hastily I say okay I will stay in a text. His reply “read the email I sent”. Hmm, not good. I read the email and it basically telling me that he will put the stuff in the garage on Tuesday and I will need to have it out by Friday.

    So here we are it’s Friday, I don’t have a place yet and the house is still there. I was willing to call my stuff a loss and just start over. I figured I could stay in a hotel until I found a place. I mean we had already been in one for the past 4 months another couple of weeks wouldn’t hurt. But having to find a place and people to help move my stuff was difficult. I’m dealing with this all while being a senior on my first ward month. Let just say it was rocky. My mind was definitely not clear. I was making mistakes, fortunately they weren’t serious. I also had to work with 2 different co seniors from a different residency. By the time I got used to one another one came along and neither was the friendliest. Our program is new, and before us they were the only residents. So I understand them feeling threatened. But that feeling should not come out in work. Instead of working together it was like were overdoing somethings and missing others. Normally I can be the person who sits back and is flexible enough to fill in whatever gaps exist. But with the turmoil at home, I was not operating at 100%. At best I think I was at 90%.

    One last thing, before I sign off. My program always talks about how we can come to thing with anything. I shared with my attending that about my mom’s heart attack scare. Maybe you should take some time off, he says. I didn’t think that was possible. However after another week and the news from my landlord that he was out of the country and just now returned. I was like I should take a day off to handle this housing situation. I had never missed a day of work or called in sick. So I ask my boss. No she tells me. Which is fine, but it put things into perspective for me. I will keep my feelings to myself, make sure I don’t run out of my antidepressants and be sure to keep my venting to friends and MomMD.


    This post will be about my upbringing.

    I was number 3 out of my mom’s 7 children. My older brother and sister were separated from me by 5 years. Couple that 5 year difference with my sister running away from home when I 4 or 5, I kind of grew up as the oldest. My older siblings and I did not share the same father. I believe this is why the distance and strife existed between my older siblings and my dad. I was too young to realize the problems they encountered with my dad, but as I got older I experienced a few of his particular ways myself and I was his “favorite” (this really meant nothing). We grew up in a hippy sort of life style, always on the go. We were also vegetarians. However, our definition of vegetarian matched the known definition of what would be known as a vegan. We ate no sugar, no eggs, no cow’s milk etc. Most of our meals were home cooked by my mom. To add to eccentricities’ of our life my dad for what ever reason, did not want to work a conventional job. So we often went without even on government assistance. Keep in my I am black :ohmy: and most of the black people I knew and know did not grow up as hippies or were vegetarian. I know its more common now but it wasn’t when I grew up. (shhhh πŸ˜‰ I’m 38). So since we were vegetarian and my dad had rules about how things must be prepared we often went hungry. We also fasted. In retrospect I wonder if we fasted to make the food stretch. I will tell you more about that chapter, but I think that is all for now.

    The next chapter I’ll talk about is life after my mom left my dad. Part of the reason my sister ran away was because of my dad. Finally, my mom had enough of him and left him too. Due to her dire need to leave, she also left us. We were not left for long as my dad found my mom and brought us to her. My mom and dad never truly reconciled so we were now truly a single parent home. Which honestly didn’t make much of a difference since my dad didn’t really hold a steady job. He was brilliant too, but he didn’t want to conform to “the system”. My parents were both youth of the Black Power movement, to add to our already eccentric life. When my mom finally left my dad I was 7 years old. So for the most part I grew up in a single parent home….

    I will talk more next time πŸ™‚ πŸ™‚ πŸ™‚

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