Yes Day

Let me see if I still remember how to do this:

Wassaaaaaaaaap?!

(too 1999?)

Oh, hello there.

(too nonchalant?)

I've been a bad, bad blogger.

(a bit self-deprecating and trite, but that about sums it up.)

Hmm... how to explain this in a succinct way without boring you to tears? There's really no better way to describe the past five months---holy heck, five?!---other than to say the following:

• Applying to residencies is an arduous process for all parties involved.
• It's also a life-consuming process.
• It's also very personal.
• We made it through.

As much as I wanted to take to the blog and agonize about every significant and insignificant detail of the residency application and the interviews and the travel and the debt (oh my word, the debt), I just couldn't do it.  Not only to protect Dr. D's privacy, but for my own sanity.  And believe me, I think I saved you from some incredibly repetitious and anxiety-ridden prose.

What's that?  I could have blogged about other things, you say?  To be sure, that might have been an option.  But to omit such a large part of what was happening in our lives would have felt entirely inauthentic to me, and I just couldn't bring myself to do it.

But here I am, ready to take another crack at this blogging thing, as Dr. D and I find ourselves on the cusp of transition once again.  I know I would kick myself down the line if I didn't document this pivotal time, so here we go.

That, and I realized the internet has been entirely Jdog-deficient as of late.  So here's to that:

Okay, moving on.

Today, dear Internet, was "Yes or No Day" (hereafter referred to as YON Day---just roll with it) in the world of fourth year medical students.  Today was the day that fourth years were informed whether or not they have successfully matched into a residency program.  Mind you, this is not Match Day.  As you can see by the rapidly dwindling countdown, Match Day is this Friday.  YON Day (roll with it, I say!) is kind of like your mean older sibling who would find an awesome toy on the taller shelf in the store and then would say "WANNA SEE IT?!" as they held it juuuust out of your reach while evoking the technicality that you were, in actuality, seeing it and would lord it over you until Mom eventually made them hand it to you.

Match Day is Mom.  YON Day is your jerk of a sibling.

In the spirit of positivity, Dr. D and I had taken to calling YON Day just straight-up "Yes Day."  It worked, because he matched!  And also he's awesome, so that might have been a contributing factor.

So, on to Friday.  On to mimosas and elation and tears and bittersweetness and celebration.  On to our future.

Stink-face States

Dr. D and I on the phone, going over which programs he should send his residency application to:

Me: "CALIFOR---

Him: "Why don't we just start at the top of the list and work our way down alphabetically?"

Me: "---NYeahhhh, that's a great idea.  Makes complete sense."

Him: "Okay.  Alabama."

Me: "........"

Him: "You're making a stink-face, aren't you?"

Me: "...yes.  You're not?"

Him: "What about Arkansas?"

Me: "........"

Him: "This does not bode well."

I have this problem where I can't control my face.  Or at least, I can't control my face in reaction to something I don't like or am anticipating not liking.  My loving husband knows this about me---he's had about sixteen years of experience dealing with how my face looks in these situations, and has dubbed it my "stink-face."

I'm pretty sure we all have a version of this face, am I right?  And in our case, mine was a useful tool for determining residency prospects.  Much to Dr. D's chagrin.

Don't get me wrong---to my knowledge, there is nothing innately horrible about Alabama, Arkansas, or any other stink-face state.  I'm sure we could find redeeming qualities about each of them.

I just can't control the face, people.

All told, we still ended up applying to a whopping 70 ENT programs (out of 105 total in the nation, some of which are military only).  We've got to cast a wide net, because this is a tough specialty to match in to.  There are people who literally do not match anywhere, and that scares the daylights out of us.

Luckily I know that Dr. D is brilliant, has great scores and experiences, and can pretty much charm the heck out of even the most demure docs.  At the risk of sounding boastful, I'm confident enough for the both of us that we'll match.  And we are determined to make the most out of next year's adventure in our new, non-stink-face home.

Anybody else have stink-face states?

Home Stretch

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{What you see on the line above happens to be a guest post by J-dog. He saw an opportunity to rest his chin on the corner of my keyboard in hopes of an absent-minded ear scratch from yours truly as I gathered my thoughts for this post. It worked; ears are thoroughly scratched. Moving on...}

We're in the home stretch, folks. I'm talking less than a year until our future is determined. Less than 365 days until we find out where we'll be spending Dr. D's residency and beginning our next big life adventure.

Where's the fast-forward button?

This past Thursday was Match Day for fourth year medical students all around the country, a day during which I'm sure many tears were shed (both happy and sad) and many adult beverages were consumed (both in celebration and medicinally). Now all of those people are making plans for the future. And next year, that will be us.

I am doing my very best to live in the present, but every now and then I get that exhilarating roller coaster feeling in my gut because--guys, I don't know if you know this about me, but I love new beginnings. And I love road trips. So the potential of getting to go on another cross-country road trip with my husband and poodle on our way to start a new life chapter... well, there aren't a whole lot of things that could excite me more.

I mean, during our last cross-country drive we discovered 85 octane fuel, sweet potato fries, gas stations with slot machines, and gigantic dinosaur sculptures in Colorado. After that, how could I not be hooked? There's so much out there I haven't seen!

That being said, as I began fantasizing this week about all of the fantastic and scary new things that will inevitably start happening to us in a year, I decided to ground myself with some reminders about things that I love about the life we're currently living. I want to make sure I remember these things, so here I go, e-emoting them to the cyberverse:

1. The gorgeousness that is October in Illinois, and our standing tradition of family walks to take pictures of the leaves after they've changed.
2. Multiple college town radio stations, making for epic car dancing sessions and a fun local music scene.
3. Laughing with friends about the funny business cards, ticket stubs, and notes left by strangers underneath the glass table covers at one of our favorite laid-back downtown hangouts.
   
4. The giddiness I feel after winter's first snow, and the fantastically spastic way J-dog greets it, as if on a snowflake high.
   
5. Having a kitchen big enough for impromptu family dance parties when we need to take a break from preparing dinner. J-dog can totally cut a rug.
   
6. Living on a college campus and not having to pay for wireless internet, cable, or indoor climate control.
7. Having a legitimate reason to wear galoshes, and purposefully seeking out deep puddles.
   
8. The fact that sharing one car between the two of us is not a big deal because the public transit system here is phenomenal.
   
9. Knowing that everyone in our building can smell what I'm baking.
   
10. Fireflies in the summer.