During PA school clinical year, you learn a lot of things. And one of those things is the many different ways in which you can be exhausted. Mentally, emotionally, physically, spiritually ... and many other ways that I can't currently articulate because, you know, I'm tired. 😅
I was a little bit worried about making a decision about a job before I had even tried emergency medicine. I had been told before I even started PA school by a mentor that I would probably end up in emergency. And I could see why -- I like wounds, excitement, drama, stress, action. Sounds right up my alley!
I want to start by saying I think I probably learned the most on this rotation. I had great preceptors (yes, even the guy who almost made me cry was a good teacher), felt like I was building on a solid foundation from my previous rotations, and had the chance to see a wide variety of diagnoses. From STIs to broken bones, head lacs to gunshot wounds (including one with a retained bullet in the rectum), DKA to a massive calcified clot on the end of a central line, heart attacks to necrotizing fasciitis ... I got to see a lot.
This rotation was mental gymnastics. Coming up with strong differentials quickly and balancing multiple patients at once, knowing the right imaging and labs to get, and coming up with appropriate discharge plans -- whew! And if that wasn't enough, work shifts that range from 6am-2pm, 9am-9pm, 1pm-11pm, and 10pm-7am. Bounce from overnights to early mornings and somehow be able to function! This is maybe the one downside to living in an apartment building during clinicals -- people are not always so quiet around here during the daytime. Oh well, I lived! And I have a lot of respect for the people who live this life; it's not an easy one.
And it's not just about the work-life balance. It's also about the patients. There's a lot of death and loss, homelessness, drug abuse, patients with inadequate care at home, mental illness. I heard the screams of a mother who just lost a child. I saw a patient try to injure herself right in front of me, and then begging to die.
That's the emotional exhaustion part. The in-your-face reminder of the intimate role we as healthcare providers play in the lives of our patients. I'm grateful to be here, but this isn't an easy job to have.
Let's change the subject, shall we? If surviving my clinicals and trying to stay alert and oriented x3 wasn't enough, I decided to start looking at houses. Initially, this started as a research endeavor. I knew the housing market has taken a big turn in the last couple of years (which worked very much in my favor when I sold right before clinical year), but I wasn't really sure what this was going to mean for me hoping to buy. I was nervous that things were going to be priced really high (uh, that turned out to be very true). But during my research something happened.
I found a house I really liked.
They always tell you not to look before you're ready and to not look above your price range and blah blah blah. And I made that rookie mistake! So then I decided, well, I've been down this road before. Lots of times the photos look better than the house in person. I'll go see it and realize it's not that great and can get on with my life.
Welp, I still liked it.
Long story short, I put in an offer and after some competition and back-and-forth, my offer was accepted! I wish that was the end of it, but if you've bought a house before, you know that's not really the case. We had the inspection, a lot of big things came up, I panicked, we negotiated for THIRTY-FOUR days, and finally came to an amendment we could both agree on. And the appraisal came through above offer. WHEW. So now it's smooth sailing until I close in early May.
Thanks for reading,
Olivia
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