Some random pictures from the past few weeks:

Waiting for Sara:


Myung hates birds except when they're angry:


Giddy up:


Where Myung is supposed to sleep:


Where Myung actually sleeps:


I should take more pictures.

It's late and I need to sleep, but I wanted to put a few swirling thoughts down.

Today was Greg's funeral and burial. It was both heartfelt and heartbreaking. He was so obviously loved by so many, but it wasn't enough to save him from himself. And as I poured my share of dirt over his coffin, I could only think, "Oh, Greg."

Myung told me two unrelated-but-related things: first, his talk did not go well, and second, Anson moved out. It seems like we're either searching without finding or losing what we'd found.

At the funeral, they read the twenty-third Psalm. I couldn't help but think about the last line, and how goodness and mercy are so often only clearly seen like shining beacons against a background of the darkest night.

Oh, God, come and light my way.

I left work early today and told the intern to call me if anything came up. So when he called later in the afternoon, I figured it was a new consult or maybe an update on one of our patients.

Me: What's up?

He: When the vascular intern signed out to me, he told me that the vascular fellow died today.

Me: What?

He: Greg, the fellow, he felt sick this morning, so he went home and he died.

I don't know the details, but apparently that's basically what happened. I worked with him for about a week and half last month at the end of my VA vascular rotation after he took over for CJ. He was a good guy - smart, hard-working. I remember CJ telling me that Greg had lost two of his grandparents in the past year (and I'd heard he lost a third right after I rotated off the service) so he was obviously going through a lot in his personal life, but it seemed like he would get through it and be ok.

It's all so fleeting. And we invest so much. Only a mist, Lord willing. Only a mist.

Dear Anonymous,

You may have noticed that I don't typically reply to visitors' comments. Or maybe you'll never come back, and this will just be a stir in the water of two ships passing in the night. In any case, a lot of that has to do with the fact that I think of this blog as a logue not of dia, but mono. However, I don't think it would be fair to make you cry and not offer a brief acknowledgment, or maybe just some unsolicited advice.

I don't know your reasons for wanting to become a doctor. Maybe your parents pushed you in that direction, or maybe, I hope, it was something a little closer to your heart. Don't forget it, though, because you'll have many sleepless nights - some by choice, some not - and it's easy to lose sight of the big picture. And it won't matter, really, if you don't get into the medical school that you want, or if you don't match at your top residency choice, or - and here it is - or if you don't get into medical school at all. At the risk of sounding like some high school yearbook quote, following your heart may not always lead you where you expected to go, but you'll end up where you hoped to be.

I guess it's easy for me to say, since I'm already in the thick of it, but I hope you believe me. I must confess, I'm a bit skeptical, since I find most premed undergrad students to be annoyingly achievement-oriented and not very receptive to advice like this. But like I said, I wanted to make amends for wetting your eyes.

I hope that you will have a restful night. And tell your grandmother that doctors make terrible husbands.

Sincerely,
Chase

I worked over a hundred hours last week. Ugh.

Last Friday I drove up to Charlie and Lori's place for Friday night community group. I was tired from a long week, but I didn't realize how tired I was until I started nodding off during the sharing time. By the time we finished, I was laying on the cold basement floor, sliding into sleep's embrace. And as sad as that was, it was only one of several times during my residency that I've fallen asleep on a floor somewhere due to pure exhaustion. Sad.

A few weeks ago I mentioned to my mom that I'm going to take time off to do research for the next couple of years. Her response? "You need to get married." So actually I could have said anything and gotten the same response.

One of the benefits of doing research is that it should afford me a little more free time. So, yes, maybe I can get married, but to be honest I think I would settle for dreaming cushioned dreams.