0.5 years

1/2, 0.5-yrs, or 6-months. No matter how you shake it, that's how old my little man is already. It seems too cliche to say that "time flies," but "time flies!" I was thinking the other day of the moment when I saw the two pink stripes come up on the pregnancy test for the first time. Talk about a moment that changes your life. Then, he was only a little ball of cells, and now he is the sweetest person you could ever meet.

There will never be another 6 months where he will grow and change this much ever again. He's topping the scales at 15lbs 12ozs and can sit up on his own for over a minute on a good day. He's downing #2 jars of carrots, applesauce, green beans, and more. Not all at the same time, of course. He has squished bananas and avacados between his fingers but hasn't quite figured out how to get them to his mouth. (Which is odd because everything else instantly finds its way there.) Although those are the things that excites his pediatrician, I'm more excited that now his six month old little face turns to see who's coming through the door when I come home. Even more thrilling is seeing his round cheeks and the corners of his mouth rise up from behind his paci when he realizes it's me. It's even better when the paci falls out of his wide open grin which, shortly after, lets out the most joyful high-pitched squeal. Now those are the moments I feel like a mom.

Dr. Mogenson warned us that it won't be long before he'll be pulling himself up on furniture. Then crawling. Then taking steps. Then, heaven forbid, walking. What is going to happen in the next 6 months? It is going to be fun!

Zoo

A momentous occasion has passed. Owen had his first trip to the zoo! Why is it that the first experience at the zoo is such a milestone? (Or maybe it's not, and I'm just super sentimental. If so, you'll have to humor me for a little while.) This was truly an experience I've been looking forward to since the day I found out I was pregnant - probably even before that. And the outfit he wore has been picked out for just about as long. I've been excited to see the look on his face when he sees the penguins for the first time, curious to know if he'd cry when he hears a lion roar for the first time, eager to watch his little fingers touch the fur of a goat for the first time, and on and on - all for the first time. Needless to say my cameras were charged and ready. The poor kid had a lot of expectations placed on him.

It was such a funny day. Not really in the comical sense, but just a weird day. Unfortunately, I was exhausted because I had worked the night before, and we weren't exactly well prepared because we still had to buy a stroller. (Our original stroller got returned several days ago due to the most annoying wheel on the planet.) I spent the morning and early afternoon learning that early summer is a terrible time to buy a jogging stroller because everyone else is doing the same. I did finally find one, and a pretty good one, at a sporting goods store of all places. Needless to say, that adventure put us a little behind schedule.

Even though we didn't have time to see every exhibit and do everything, I think it was plenty for Owen's little senses to take in. What surprised me was his reaction, or lack there of. He watched the penguins swim like he'd see them a thousand times. He found the stuffed puppy he's played with a hundred time just as entertaining at the sharks. He cried through the entire Madagascar exhibit because he was hungry just like he would have if it was any other afternoon at home. His expression for most of the trip was as follows:

Pretty exciting, huh? Doesn't that face just ooze with the thrill of a new adventure? Come on, Owen, don't you know you're at the Z-O-O! Maybe it would have helped if mom and dad would have made sure he had a nap before we left. He did manage to crack a smile or two, and after a bottle he let out a couple of laughs. All in all, I think he enjoyed it, but I'm sure the excitement will fill his eyes when he's a little older and better able to appreciate the wonder that is the zoo.

Not for Me

Finally, I found a job in medicine that is not for me: Emergency Medicine. This comes as a little bit of a surprise because I thought I would enjoy the fast-paced, high adrenaline nature of it. After all, trauma surgery was one of my most memorable rotations. I guess I still enjoy that part, but it is such a small part of the job it doesn't make up for the remaining, less-of-an-adrenaline-rush, more-like-a-frustrating-headache parts. And, the exciting stuff is a lot less fun when everyone is depending on you to make the split-second decisions of what to do next.

I can see how medical students would love this rotation. You get to see, and more importantly, do a little of everything. Instead of watching residents and doctors do everything, in the ER, students get to dive in: practice suturing, listen to the ambulance scanner call in patients, watch intubations, put in IVs, tap joints, see if your stomach can handle broken bones and amputations, and so much more. And the staff doctors cherry pick the good stuff for the med students to see. Isn't that the real reason we go into medicine - the good stuff? That's what is on t.v. Those are the stories family and friends ask to hear about during the holidays.

Unfortunately, I'm learning that isn't what the ER is. Sure, I've been able to do a handful of stitches, but I can't begin to count the number of abdominal pains, headaches, and back pains I've had to sort through. My clinic is full of these complaints, but in the ER you have a two fold problem. Not only do you need to diagnose and treat the chief complaint, but you also have to assess the patient's motivation. Why did they really come to the ER? After all, they think their problem is an "emergency." It is harder than you think to judge a person's motivations in the five minutes you have to learn their story - to essentially decide if their pain is deserving of relief. Unlike the clinic, there isn't the options of a two-week follow-up, or at least there shouldn't be.

Like I said, Not for Me.

Rest

I'm remembering how valuable a day off is. After three 12+ hour shifts in a row, today is a much needed day of rest. Although I enjoyed each and every day off last month, I must admit that this day off feels a little sweeter - like I really earned it. Not only does my body needed a break from standing in bad shoes for countless hours, dehydration, and sleep deprivation, my mind is also begging for a little less action. The ER seems to be especially draining. I literally was going for nearly twelve and a half hours straight with the exception of one 20 minute break when I escaped to shovel down a salad (with the added challenge of not having a fork)! I want to do a good job, but at the same time understand that I'm not training to be an ER resident. My focus has been on patient care and less on how to efficiently "move the meat" as they say. (In other words, how to get patients in and out, in a less than tasteful phrase.) I am definitely learning a new appreciation for what they do.

On-call nights for the inpatient medicine service might be longer (as in 18 hours longer), but these last days have been equally exhausting. It very well could be that I'm just "out of shape" and it is always difficult to get used to a new environment, system, and group of people. So I'm hoping that I get adjusted and toned up for next weekend with 4 long days in a row and, in the not so distant future, a month of Ob, followed by a month of inpatient pediatrics, followed by back-to-back months of inpatient wards at University. I'm getting palpitations just thinking about it!

I knew this year was going to be challenging, and instead of focusing on the stressful parts, I keep reminding myself that this is a learning experience I'll only "get" to do once. I should take advantage of it. But for now, I'm going to take advantage of a little rest.

Shift #1

Well, yesterday, was a busy day. I'm getting back into the swing of things. It was my first actual shift in the Emergency Department. From 7AM to 7PM (actually is was more like from 6:45AM to 7:20PM) you could find me somewhere down in the "pit" - as some would call it.

Thankfully, it was a good day, and everyone was friendly and helpful, that includes the staff, other residents, nurses, patients, and even the patient's families... except for one patient, I guess. But I forgive her because she is "well-advanced-in-years," already struggles with dementia, and was sick on top of it. I don't really blame her for clenching her mouth closed when I tried to complete my ENT exam, or swinging her stuffed bear at my face when I put my stethoscope on her chest. By the look on her son's face and the genuine look of fear and confusion on hers I had nothing but compassion for her. Her smile will likely come back after a few doses of antibiotics, and if that was the worst attack on my first day, I cannot really complain.

During orientation they instructed us that our goal should be to see 10-12 patients. However, eight was the magic number for yesterday. Even if it didn't meet the quota, it isn't too bad for my first day. Of the eight, one went to the OR, one was waiting for the ortho resident to come tap her likely septic ankle (OUCH!!), three were admitted to the hospital (sorry to my fellow medicine residents who got slammed with admissions yesterday), two went home and one went back up to the labor and delivery floor to watch the birth of his first grandchild. [Must have been a good day to have a birthday. I have to interject that I became an aunt to my first nephew yesterday, too!] I even managed to get away for 30 minutes to sit and eat lunch.

One shift down, seven to go... but who's counting.

Formula

Owen's bottle this morning was a little different color, a little different texture, and I'm sure had a little different taste. He had his first swallow of formula today. To be honest, this too is a bittersweet day. As much as I have found feeding him rewarding, I'm also going to be a little relieved to share the burden with that can of powdered goodness. I'm also looking forward to sharing the burden... I mean, the pleasure, of those 1:00-am feedings with Jason.

My goal is to feed him for at least 6 months and likely be done soon after he has teeth. Before you ask, you should know that there is no science behind my decision. Medicine would say, "Breast is best, but formula is a good alternative." My plan is more of a goal to remind me that I wouldn't do this forever. Some of the more difficult days that I found it reassuring to know there would be an end, and on the good days it encouraged me simply to enjoy it. In just 11 days he'll reach the 6 month milestone, and we all know those teeth are coming sooner rather than later. Additionally, with me going back to work, this seems like a natural time to take that step and introduce formula. After this, I don't really have a plan. My body will have something to say about it just as much as Owen's growing body will, so we'll just play it by ear (or his stomach, rather).

As I dumped the powder in and shook to rid the bottle of every tiny clump, I wondered what he would think of the difference. I hoped he would like it. I worried he would like it better. I planned this to be the time. It was just the two of us. Selfishly, I have wanted to be the one to give the first taste test. I don't really know why, but I guess it's because feeding him has always been my thing. He gladly took the familiar bottle as we sat down in our favorite rocker. However, after one big suck, he scrunched up his nose and released the seal he had created with his lips. He rolled the nipple of the bottle over his tongue as his mind tried to process this new substance. He didn't hate it, but it definitely was something new. Then, after 5 minutes of sampling and analyzing, he decided it was good enough and proceeded to empty the contents. It was a success. What's more, he gave me a little satisfaction by not enjoying it more than my "home-cooked" bottle and at the same time not giving me the frustration of having to force it. Have I told you what a good baby I have?!

Bittersweet

Last days are usually bittersweet - exciting and difficult. This day is definitely no different. My days alone with Owen are coming to an end and my days of being an intern are beginning. It is exciting to get back to work and be a "real" doctor, but at the same time it is going to be extremely difficult to leave my sweet little boy for a long day of work.

I am so glad that we had this month together. As necessary as the usual 6-week maternity leave is, I'm starting to realize that a post-post-partum leave also is nearly essential for working moms. After all, I may have fallen in love with Owen when he was a helpless newborn, but I have really gotten to know him as a priceless little man. What I've learned about my son in this month has been incredible! I know how his cry sounds when he's hungry. I know that when he puts his hands behind his ears he's getting ready to throw a fit that can only be cured with a good nap. I know that he likes green beans better than peas. I know which is his favorite rattle. I know when he lays his head on my neck it's less a sign of affection and more an indication of sleep-deprivation. I know that he likes to listen to stories, and he is more likely to share his own tales when only a few trusted ears are listening. I know he will like baseball like his dad and cooking like his mom. I know he is kind and patience. I know he is persistent and determined. Best of all, I know he loves me.

It is too bad that there isn't a "before-and-after" photo of us. Not just that he is longer and my hair is shorter, but how cool would it be to have an image that shows the incredible bond between us. We went from "mother and baby" to "Mommy and Owen." Like I said - Incredible! Maybe most mothers of 5-month-olds feel this way, and maybe I would have felt like this even if I worked during this time, but even so, I wouldn't trade what we've experienced for anything.

I realize that so far the fact that this is all coming to an end sounds a little more bitter than sweet, but there is a sweet spot to this day. Tomorrow, go ahead and circle June 2 on your calendars, my patients will have appointments with Dr. Newman - not with "med student, Susan" or "part-of-your-medical-team, Susan" or "Sub-I, Susan." I will be their doctor. I am their doctor. How sweet, and awe-inspiring, is that?!