a day off from the ICU, a day away from it all. almost

On my days off I'd usually sleep until 11am or 12pm and live a slow, quiet day.  Today is no exception.

Whenever I spend a day at home, it's my day to turn everything into some kind of relaxing getaway room.  I keep my blinds closed, not entirely to be in an eclipse of darkness, but to let some of the determined sunlight filter in.

I keep a tall paper lamp on, and watch it project warm beams of yellow light on my skin and the floor near me.  When the clouds pass over the sun, my room darkens, and I can see the faint light from my lamp spill onto the opposite wall and a bit into a back corner.

It's a different setting from the ICU.  To me, the ICU is a dragon.  A dragon that takes so much preparation to wrestle to the ground and defeat.  Every time I walk in, I feel like I'm a minor character in Norse folklore entering a cave of danger and surprise.

Rather than feeling paralyzed with fear, I'm excited.  I get some kind of excitement from knowing how to manage hypercalcemia, and learning about cerebral salt wasting in the neuro ICU and management.

It's exciting because it means I'll be better able to save a life, see someone go home.

I remember when the 3rd year internal medicine resident told me I'd make a good internist, and that I should never become a surgeon.  I thought he had something against surgeons, but maybe he saw something in me to the effect of "you'd make an even better internist."

I also remember a surgeon who I worked with one day on a case tell me "You know, procedures can get boring after a while."

I also think about how there's so much variety in anesthesiology/intensive care literature and how it isn't dominated by bowel or the appendix.  As much as I value my GI tract, I never really daydream about it.

I'll discuss my decision process on residencies later on in an attempt to help others figure it out too.

Live each day right, and you'll be closer to living a good life.  

cheers, mates.