a fab new diet. (tmi? maybe?)

I lost 5 lbs this weekend. Actually, in a mere 24 hours.

Jealous?

Don't be. I spent ALL day Saturday and ALL day Sunday either in bed or in the bathroom. I have never been sicker in my life. I was pukin' and poopin' til I could no longer puke or poop. Yeah, it's gross, I know.

Oh the irony of it. I had been counting down the days until I finally had a day off....13 days straight of work, 165+ hours and a day off! Glory be! But, I woke Saturday with a tummy ache and ended up on my death bed all day. Then, I had to use my "day off" I had coming up on Thursday in order to stay home on Sunday too. Hmph.

Of course, I feel better today. Since I had to go back to work.

But, in case your wondering, a good gastroenteritis is the perfect way to drop those extra lbs before slipping into that new bikini. Don't forget plenty of saltines and gatorade!

i know my role.

Thanks for all of your prayers and sweet comments. I woke up this morning....wait, actually it was this evening since I'm on nights, and the answer suddenly seemed blatantly obvious.

I can't adopt M.

I also found out yesterday....or in the middle of the night, whatever, that DHS is looking for an adoptive family that can take M and her older sister. So, rushing little M to the safety of my home didn't seem quite so easy once I found out that news.

I actually feel kind of silly for even posting that yesterday now that the idea of adopting her seems so far away, but that's how I was feeling at the time, so I said it.

So, I'll just continue playing with her, loving on her and praying for her. And I'm okay with that.

knowing my role...

[I almost didn't post this. I'm not sure why, but I was going to keep these feelings to myself. But you all have been so amazing in offering prayer and support that I decided to go ahead and post]

I've really been struggling with what my role is supposed to be in M's life. I cannot stop thinking about her. I had a long talk with one of the other residents, Kyle, last night who is on the team taking care of M. Apparently there has been a lot of discussion about where she'll end up when she's healthy enough to be discharged from the hospital. Kyle is an amazing guy, strong Christian and has a huge heart. I told him a little bit about our IF struggles and our desire to adopt.

I have had 3 people in the last few days, who know nothing about Heath and I's situation mention, half-jokingly, that I should adopt M. I'm just trying to sort out the feelings I'm having. I'm not sure if I'm having these thoughts because I care about her, and I need to get used to feeling like this about many patients to come in the next few years, or if God is trying to tell me something. Last night, as I was praying for M, and asking God to just pour His love onto her and use me in whatever way He can, I had this vivid image of sitting on my couch with her curled up in my lap. What does that mean??

Surely He can't want me to adopt this little girl? I feel like she would need someone who could be with her all day every day to love on her and give her all the attention she needs. With me working 80 hours a week, I doubt I could give that to her. Obviously there is a high likelihood for behavioral and psychological problems in her future. I know that He would give Heath and I the tools needed to parent her, but it would be so hard.

Maybe my role is smaller than that. Maybe I'm supposed to shower her with love while she's in the hospital. And that's it. I'm fully aware that I won't be able to swoop in and save all of the kiddos that cross my path, and it probably won't get easier to deal with the emotions when they do. Maybe M. will just be that kid that I always think about and pray about. One of those patients that makes a huge impact on my life and the way I practice medicine.

Please just say a little prayer for me. Pray for clarification in what my role is in M's life. Heath and I have only talked about this a little bit. He knows that I've grown attached, but since we're on completely different schedules right now, we haven't gotten to talk about it as much as we'd like to. That's another reason I almost didn't post this.

On another note, we discussed our fertility options a little bit this last weekend. We're trying to decide if we should wait on IVF until we're a little more financially secure and try another route. I'm not quite ready to talk about the other route on here (it isn't adopting M, by the way), but please say another prayer for Heath and I that God will lead us in the direction he wants us to take. A few of the decisions are hard for Heath and some for Me, but I just pray that we'll come to one that works the best for both of us. Thanks!

scarred.

I'm exhausted -- physically, emotionally, and mentally. I've spent the last 27 hours at the hospital on call. More so than needing sleep, I am heartbroken over what I saw yesterday.

A two year old little girl was brought in by DHS. She has been tortured for the last two years. Luckily an anonymous tip led DHS to her grandparent's house. When asked, the grandparents denied that a child was in the house. After breaking down the door, the police found a tiny, terrified little girl.

Walking into her hospital room, I saw a small, scarred hand sticking out between the bars of the crib. She was curled into a ball, holding onto her left ear with her other hand. Her face was buried in the covers and all I could see were the bandages covering her head and body. Only her legs and arms were exposed. Even her little hands and feet were wrapped in gauze. I decided to let her sleep. God only knows how long it's been since she's really rested.

Returning later, the nurses were struggling to get her blood pressure. It's the first time I saw her face. She has dozens of scars all over her face in all stages of healing. Some look like they've been there a year and others are just forming scabs. She's beautiful, but her eyes were dark and hollow. She stared at me, unsure of whether or not she should trust me. I brought some bubbles with me. After about 5 minutes of blowing bubbles, she reached a timid little finger out and popped a bubble. She still never smiled. I also brought crayons and a coloring book. She watched me color for awhile. I placed a crayon in her hand and she slowly turned it in her fingers. I could tell she wanted to give coloring a try and eventually she reached down and placed the crayon to the paper. We colored for awhile and soon she was handing me colors and babbling at me a little. I had to remind myself that she was two years old. Being severely malnourished, M. is only the size of a one year old. Soon, she was playing with me like any other toddler, but I had to leave to admit a patient. I still never got a smile out of her.

Later that evening, I came back to find her watching Finding Nemo. I could see in her eyes that she recognized me, trusted me and was glad that I was back. We immediately started playing. Once again, the bubbles were a big hit. She was leaning through the rails of her crib following the bubbles to the ground, feeding me crayons and tapping me on the head with her princess wand. We played for about an hour. Her eyes lit up and she was smiling and laughing. She has a perfect little smile. The skin under her left eye dimples a little bit from the scars, but her entire face lights up. When others would come in the room, her demeanor changed and she watched them cautiously until they left. Eventually it was time for me to get back to work. I told her "bye bye" and she immediately pulled herself up and lept into my arms. She wrapped her legs around my waist, her arms around my neck and laid her bandaged little head on my chest. It took all I had not to break down. I stood there, rocking her in my arms for awhile and telling her things I'm sure she's never heard. "You're such a pretty girl, M", "You're safe now", "I love you". I tried once to set her back on her bed and she started whimpering and pulled herself back into my arms. About 10 minutes later the nurse's aid came in and I handed M. over to her.

I fell asleep last night (yes, I actually got a little bit of sleep on call) praying for M. My heart is absolutely broken imagining what this beautiful little girl has been through in the short two years she's been alive. What's even harder to imagine is what is in store for her over the next several months. For now, she's covered in 2nd and 3rd degree burns and badly malnourished. She's safe in the hospital with nurses, doctors and aids who are showering her with a love she's never known. Today, she's wearing her princess outfit that the nurses brought her. But what happens when her burns have turned to scars and she's put on a few lbs?

Please pray for baby M. Pray that God heals her body and her soul. There is a happy, loving little girl in that shell, but it's going to take a lot of love to bring her out.

what a day...

Whew. I just got home....at 9:30 p.m. I've been up since 4:00 a.m. I have no idea why I'm writing a post on here instead of getting ready for bed. But, I am.

Let's start with how the night before my first day went. I didn't get out of orientation until about 2 p.m. I had decided to skip lunch so that I could finish up earlier and get home. On the way home, I planned on stopping to get gas. My gauge was low, but the light hadn't come on yet. I'm about 3 miles from my house and my car stalls out! So, I had to walk a mile in heels and dress clothes, about to pass out from hypoglycemia, to buy a gas can and get gas. Then, walk back to my car, struggle with filling up the tank (with a whole 2 gallons of gas!) and then drive back to the gas station! My gas light still never came on.

Of course I had to take advantage of this wonderful photo opp.

Fast forward to this morning. As soon as I finished my post, I gathered my doctorly things and hopped in the car. In case you don't know me, I am chronically punctual...almost to a flaw. So, you know I was getting in the car at 5:11 a.m. for the 20 minute drive to work when I wasn't supposed to be there until 6. Of course things couldn't go smoothly.... my car was dead. I mean, dead dead. Like, the engine didn't even think about turning over. What a way to start off my first day of work! Luckily the other intern on my team lives about 15 minutes away and happened to be leaving her house as early as I was. So, she swung by and picked me up. My car being dead wouldn't have been quite as tragic if a) Heath wasn't in Chicago and b) this wasn't the one time he actually drove himself to the airport. So, when I finally finished my incredibly long day today, I had to have my intern friend drive me to the airport to get Heath's truck. Ugh.

As far as my actual first day of work, I loved it! I busted my butt, I almost cried, I was in way over my head and I loved every minute of it! I don't think I sat down for more than 5 minutes today. I wrote so much my hand almost fell off. And, we had a Code Blue at about 7:00 tonight. I'm on the inpatient wards. Rarely do regular pediatric patients code, but of course we had one on my first day! So, about an hour before I was supposed to get off, we hear "beep beep beep CODE BLUE, CODE BLUE". My heart was pounding and I took off running down the halls. Note to self: don't wear slippery heels in the hospital for the fact that you could have to run down the halls/stairs to code a kiddo. Luckily there were about 40 people in the room who all knew way more about running a code than I did. But, it was an interesting way to end the day. I don't think I'll ever forget my first code. I felt horrible for the mom and dad. They were a younger couple and the baby was only about a month old. I just wanted to run over and hug them. Say a prayer for them and the little guy tonight...I knew he made it out okay, but got transferred to the PICU.

I feel so sorry for my poor pups. They've been alone all day. I ran right in the door and took them for a quick walk. I'm sure I'll have a hard time sleeping tonight because they'll be ready to play.

And, I forgot to take a picture of my first day of work. Boo :(

More adventures in interning to come.

i'm so excited....i'm so scared.

(Saved by the Bell, anyone??)

It's 5:06 a.m. and I'm about to head to the hospital for my first day of work. I hadn't realized how nervous I would be, but my stomach is in knots and the thought of breakfast is nauseating. Please think of me today. I pray that I'm able to step up and fill my new role. I know I have the knowledge but it's been the back corner of my mind for the last 7 months.

Wish me luck!