It's October

It is more than a little hard to believe that it is October. I mean, I am still referring to events that happened back in March like they were yesterday. Because, like, that totally just happened last month. YOU know, in March. Last month!

I have such mixed feelings about the speed at which time is passing. On the one hand, I am so incredibly excited for March 21st, I can barely stand it. I want it here NOW. But on the other, I love October and Fall and Thanksgiving. And, holy crap, October ends in 7 days. And now I'm just depressed.

But, back to March 21st.

THAT is the date that decides our future. THAT is the date when we find out where W has matched for residency. THAT is the date that our entire our apartment will be packed up and I will be hightailing it out of here for our future home. It might not end up being our forever home, but 5-6 years in one place will feel like forever after all of the hop, skip and jumping around we've been doing over the last five years. Because in the last five years, I have lived FIVE different places.

Let's recap:

May 2009 - I graduated from the College of Charleston.

June 2009 - I left my beloved Charleston, SC to move back home (Florence, SC) until our wedding.

July 2009 - Married W.

August 2009 - Moved into W's mom's basement in Columbia, SC. Lived there for two weeks before moving into the tiniest little place--still in Columbia, SC.

June 2010 - Moved to Lewisburg, WV so that W could attend medical school.

June 2012 - Moved to Charleston, WV so that W could continue his third and fourth years of medical school (they have a statewide campus for rotations).

April - June 2014 - MOVING SOMEWHERE I DON'T KNOW WHERE!

So, that's Charleston, SC; Florence, SC; Columbia, SC; Lewisburg, WV; Charleston, WV. I like to think I have come full circle ending back up in a Charleston. I am kind of hoping that the universe notices this symmetry and balance that I have achieved in my life and cuts a girl some slack in our next great adventure.

The next 3 months will see W and I traveling all over the eastern half of the United States for his residency interviews. I am thrilled at the prospect of getting to see places in the US I may never have occasion to visit. But, you better believe, I will be in hardcore scope-out mode. Any one of those places could be our home in less than 6 months. Mind blown.

W has suddenly turned all superstitious and won't let me peep a word to the general public about his residency interviews, but I just can't help myself. Here they are in the vaguest terms ever.

He has one interview in the Midwest. My feelings are pretty bleh about the prospect of living in this particular Midwest city, because its not anything major or special, EXCEPT for the residency program. Its kind of insane that W got it. But, its freaking cold there. I'm so over snow.

He has one interview in New England. This one kind of makes me squeal every time I think about it!

He has one interview in the Northeast. This one also kind of makes me squeal in equal parts delight and fright.

He has one interview in Dixie. I actually wouldn't mind this one at all. It would be a new time zone!

He has several interviews in the mountains. I am indifferent to these. I would prefer coast, obviously!

He has a couple in SC, which thrill me to no end at the thought of being closer to family.

So there you have it. He is still getting emails daily. And, of course, not all of them are interviews. There have been rejections. At this point, the interview invitations far outweigh the rejects! Thank all that is holy for that.

Here is what you've missed (through no fault of your own--I am the delinquent blogger here):

Went apple picking with this nut and W's whole family.

Cap and I made a mistake, but we looked cute doing it!

W TURNED 30!

Can you believe I am married to a 30 year old? Me either.

Coming up on this here blog:

I've been so incredibly bored lately. So, I've taken to over-designing the apartment. And since interior design is really one of my great joys in life, I have decided to start sharing more about it! Tomorrow's post will feature a $12 upgrade to my cheap ass curtains.

See you then!

-b

A Killer Concoction

So the big move to Charleston has been relatively easy compared to the other horror stories I've experienced in the past (see Back in the Burg).  We actually had a moving truck available, and get this... no feline urine odor in our new place.  However, WV doesn't have rental laws, and this normally means you move in to a pretty dirty apartment that desperately needs to be painted and dowsed in bleach.  The new place is beautiful!  It's a large 1920's house that was converted into apartments in the 60's (according to the information sheet left on our refrigerator).  So, the meager cleaning and painting are small tasks to endure for the charming apartment Bri helped us find.  (It's nice having friends who care about your living quarters as much as you do!)

Anyway... more on the cleaning.

I decided our bathroom needed a little hardcore scrubbing.  I thought to myself, "Self, what kills everything it touches?"

BLEACH  √


Naturally, I listened to myself and started cleaning with bleach (and a little water).  Midway through the cleaning, I noticed the bleach was still leaving a yellow color behind on the caulking.  So, I thought to myself again, "Self, what is the second strongest chemical that I have in my little OCD cleaning collection?"

AMMONIA √

I bet if I mix these two bad ass chemicals together I'll create an even bad-ER ass chemical. (This, unfortunately, was my actual thought process)

COMMON SENSE  X

I put my big girl cleaning gloves back on, pushed my Betty the Riveter sleeves up, put the stopper in the tub, poured a hefty amount of straight bleach, mixed in some ammonia, and started scrubbing.

Source

This, dear readers, is where it gets hard to continue.  Have you ever done something SO embarrassingly stupid that you'd rather it just go unnoticed for the rest of your life so you can keep pretending like you're a smart, educated woman with a good head on her shoulders?  

Great!  So you understand.

I'll break down the series of events (in which I remember) that occurred:

11:06 A.M.  Once the bleach and ammonia were married together in my bathtub, my eyes instantaneously started pouring with water.  

11:09 A.M.   Being that I'm allergic to nearly everything... I convinced myself this was just my individual reaction to these chemicals, and that I should most definitely keep cleaning for the better good of the bathtub.  Think of Betty, Cap!

11:10 A.M.   I kept cleaning.

11:13 A.M.   My throat started to burn when I would breath over the tub, so I began taking big breaths away from the tub, putting my shirt's collar over my mouth, and YES, you guessed it, SCRUBBING MORE!

WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME, AND WHY DO I HAVE A PSYCHO OBSESSION AND AN INTENSE DESIRE FOR A WHITE BATHTUB?! 

11:15 A.M   FINALLY,  when I started coughing uncontrollably, became a little light headed, and started to feel like I was going to throw up in the bathtub..... I stopped cleaning.

11:16 A.M.   I ran out of the bathroom, Googled "ammonia poisoning" (At this point, I still didn't realize it was from mixing bleach and ammonia, but rather just from using too much ammonia).  It was here when I read in bold print:

"WARNING:  NEVER MIX AMMONIA AND BLEACH.  THIS CREATES A VAPOR KNOW AS CHLORAMINE THAT CAN BE DEADLY."

And that was when I realized I'd just started the slow killing process of myself and my innocent bystander puppy.  The crime tape would be wrapped around my apartment bathroom shortly, and the headline would read, "Medical student's wife kills herself and their 11 month old puppy".

Okay, maybe I exaggerate a smidgen.

I called everyone I knew that either had a background in chemistry or OCD cleaning.

NO ONE ANSWERED.

I called everyone AGAIN.

Finally, my smart friend answered.

CATHERINE!  YOU CANNOT MIX THOSE TOGETHER.  YOU WILL MELT YOUR LUNGS!

Sweet.  Melted lungs, but a clean bathroom.  Score!  (kidding)

Epilogue:

Other than losing my self worth and wishing I would have paid more attention in my chemistry class... I'm okay.  After a frantic Facebook post to warn friends of the "unknown dangers" of mixing chemicals together, I realized a few things:

A.  I'm actually not the only person who has done this.  (though that doesn't help my lungs)

B.  If you mix vinegar and Dawn together, let it sit for 30 mins, and scrub onto yellowed caulking and grout... It actually whitens without melting important organs.

So, hopefully you've learned a valuable lesson through my ignorance. 

You're welcome.

-Cap

The Third Year

You know, when you start on this whole wife-of-a-medical-student path, you encounter lots of folks along the way who are undisputed experts on medical school (BTW) who enjoy nothing more than warning you of the extreme suck-factor of medical school. A small portion of these warnings should be heeded. The others should be immediately purged from your mind before their destructive powers take over.

Medical school does indeed suck. That much is oh so true.

Here are examples of some warnings you might receive upon embarking on a med school journey:

"You will never see him again. Ever. In your whole life. He will pay the bills, leave a mess in the bathroom, father your children, and yeah, that's about it." Thanks, I was worried I'd never get rid of him. Relief!

"Say your goodbyes now while you still have him!"

"Your apartment will smell like corpses for the first couple of months of med school." Natch.

"My sister's brother left her for a 21 year old nurse with a nose ring after she supported his sorry ass all through med school and residency. I hope your husband doesn't do that to you." Thanks, complete stranger, for your concern.

"He will leave you eventually. You know that, right?" I guess I do now....

"You're gonna be roooollliiiiiin'." In $270,000 of student loans. What. WHAT.

Mr. Sensitive

(source)

Then, there were the helpful been-there-done-that mature second year, third year, fourth year students, residents, and actual doctors with advice.

"First year will be tough, and he will study a lot. Get a hobby and make some friends." Yes, do this immediately. I am hobby-challenged and unfortunately left my friend-making skills back in kindergarten, so this little nugget was a bit useless for me.

"Second year will be hell. Boards will turn him into a phantom." This. Is. So. True.

"Don't hate him too much the first two years. The third year is so much better. There's more free time. You will see him much more."

"Fourth year is incredible. Just have fun." I'm excited for this one!

"He will disappear again for residency." But, he will be making money. I think I can deal. (Just kidding.....)

So, now, me, the wife of a third year medical student will give you my very own low-down. For whatever its worth, here goes.

First year sucked.

Second year sucked more.

Third year has been easier so far. Sure, we still spend a good bit of time apart (EM rotation took him away for night shifts), but overall, he does have more free time. He actually watches TV with me (AND WHO DOESN'T LOVE FALL TV, WHO? I DON'T BELIEVE YOU. TWO WORDS: NEW GIRL.). He doesn't lock himself up to study for 8 hour blocks anymore. He has a memory that mostly works. His appetite has greatly improved. We spend most Saturdays or Sundays together without study interruptions doing fun things instead of zombie-ing out on the sofa because he is in a study stupor and I am just BORED.

[Isn't it strange that boredom usually results in inactivity. Why are we so dumb? Cats for instance are never bored. Sure, they sleep 18 hours a day, but the rest of the time they spend chasing their tails, pawing at everything, attacking curtains, rolling around in the bathtub, unraveling toilet paper, lounging on kitchen counters and tables that they should know better. Cats have got it figured out.]

Jokesters.

(source)

Yes, we are poorer than ever. Third year has come with monetary obligations that we didn't expect or else just did a terrible job of budgeting. (Note: W's school has a statewide campus for third year, meaning that 95% of the students must move from Lewisburg for rotations.)

Learn from our mistakes/imprudence.

First mistake: Not budgeting for a moving company. / Not planning the move at a more convenient time for family/friends to assist (if you'd rather go that route).

We chose the moving company. You see, our families are in SC, and we picked Memorial Day weekend to move. I just couldn't do that to our families. So, the movers were really a necessity and ended up ($800 later) being a huge relief to both of us. Yes, it was nearly $1,000 to move us 1.5 hours, but it was two very tall flights of steps on both ends that W and I didn't have to wrestle our ridiculously heavy furniture up and down by ourselves. Also, I had to deal with our black cat, who hyperventilates, drools, panics, morphs into Satan while in a car. It was the longest 1.5 hour drive of my life. I had to bear hug her the whole time as she dug her claws into my thighs and salivated long, sticky, clear drool all down my front. AWESOME.

Don't do this.

(source)

Second mistake: Not asking W very specific questions about all that third year rotations entail. AKA Gas money has sucked our bank account dry.

For instance, I didn't know (I'm still not sure whether W knew this in advance or not) that W would be expected to travel up to two hours away for certain rotations. His first rotation was eight weeks in Family Medicine at a clinic 30 minutes away; then, his four week Emergency Med rotation was at the same location. This was a solid three months with a 30 minute commute (each way). Now, his geriatrics rotation requires him to travel 1.5 hours (each way) one day a week. I know this doesn't seem at all extreme, but consider our previous situation in Lewisburg. I walked to work every day and W (if he actually went to class) only had a 2-5 minute commute. We maybe got gas once every week-and-a-half to two weeks. Now that we have my brother's Jeep (because I was NOT going to be abandoned at work any longer), I shudder to think about our monthly gas expense. I would safely assume it has tripled since Lewisburg.

Third mistake: Higher cost of living.

I guess that we are complete idiots in this regard. We knew Lewisburg was expensive. We were paying $750/month for a one bedroom (all utilities included except electric, which several times reached a whopping $160, but was usually $50-$75). This is high for a town of 3,500 people especially when you consider the rowdy bar across the street and cattle trailers and gravel trucks (jake brakes always included) that would rattle past our street-front apartment at all hours. Our rent now is cheaper but no utilities are included. We easily pay more now than we ever did in Lewisburg. IDIOTS.

Also, there are actually like fun things to do here and more than 2 bars and 4 restaurants to choose from. YES, ITS TRUE. This phenomenon of having options was not considered. Big. Mistake.

Fourth mistake: Getting a 2 bedroom after having a 1 bedroom.

We definitely wanted a second bedroom since our families come so often to visit. Of course, a second bedroom requires a second bed. NO WAY. We thought treating ourselves to a new mattress was a great idea..................... And it was! I just wish we had budgeted for it.

Fifth mistake: Not considering the cost of all of the books and study materials--not to mention the insanely high cost of the board exam itself.

Nothing but a solid education (blah) is included in that $50,000/year tuition. Uh, DUH. We were only slightly blindsided by this one. Do your research. Study materials are freaking expensive. Beginning with second year, you should just go ahead and plan on spending $2,000 on study material and the board exam. If you are a DO student and plan to take MD boards, add another $1,000 to that amount.

If only it were this simple.

(source)

That about sums it up. I hope that this helps just a few of you or enlightens those of you who think doctors make it rain from day one.

-b

Things that Float Around in My Head

First of all, you should listen to this song. Its my new favorite.

W worked his first all-nighter Monday evening, 8:30pm - 8:30am. He wasn't home last night until 9pm. All of this quiet time allows my mind ample time to wander as I iron the tablecloths for the museum's fundraiser next week. (I'm so effing domestic.)

I am a champ at weaving the most fantastical and never-gonna-happen day dreams. I mean, I am the queen of wishful thinking. Its a kind of sick addiction.

My latest day dream is that an interior designer will be so impressed with me (because I am that awesome...) and my "work" (aka: my crappy apartment) that they will hire me on the spot before someone else can scoop me up. The details of what exactly I was doing and where I was doing it when this moment of "impression" took place are very hazy. You see, in day dreams, you don't actually have to do anything, be good at anything, or contribute in anyway to solving the world's problems. In day dreams, you are automatically awesome at everything. You are a catch. YOU are the next BIG thing.

Pretty soon (in my day dream), I am living the jet-setter life in DC, styling for an interior's firm based in NY with a satellite office in DC for all those bored politicians' wives. I also wear all black all the time, am wafer thin, and can often be found with a blonde, curly-headed toddler--we're talking J. Crew-catalog-worthy toddler--on my hip. W is making a name for himself in the surgery world. We live in a townhouse near Dupont Circle. Champagne is a daily ritual. We eat lots and lots of fresh seafood. I throw dinner parties weekly and always have the best playlists. People are always saying, "That Bri."

At this point in the day dream, I am shocked back to reality to find myself perched on the arm of the couch, staring wistfully at the cracked plaster ceiling in my moo-moo, and see that the tablecloth has fallen to the floor, become a comfy bed for a black cat and white kitten, and that I have been ironing the ironing board cover for the last ten minutes. I am also bra-less with chipped toenail polish and my hair is mounded on my head and secured with a CLAW, circa-1998.

MY IDOL.

(source)

Yet, I am so cool in my day dreams--Rachel-Zoe cool, obvi.

Now that I have penned that very frequent day dream on the internet, you will most likely find me, eight years from now, fat, wearing (God forbid) capri pants, living in a phony colonial in like Ohio, or somewhere terrible like that, with three dirt-stained 8 year olds, avoiding reflective surfaces and hating W for his maturing good looks and his maintenance of 1.6% body fat. I have officially SCREWED jinxed myself with that one.

Whew. GLAD to get that off my chest!

Lately, and more realistically though, my thoughts have been revolving around the possibilities of residency and the excitement of moving somewhere brand new. Just because I complain about medical school most of the time doesn't mean that I hate it in its entirety. There is .5% of it that I do like and that is the chance to move somewhere completely random (hello, West Virginia) every couple of years.

Was I excited to move to West Virginia? Not really. But, I was excited to set off on our own far away from SC. The final destination took a while to warm up to.

I do believe that WV is one of the most beautiful states I've visited (SC is most beautiful in my book) and have enjoyed exploring its wild and wonderfulness.

Proof:

Photos courtesy of W.

Because W did so well on his board exams, our future home-bases are looking pretty exciting, and well, populated!! People! I love people! Lots and lots of different people.

These are the current options we've discussed. We shall see.

Washington, DC. My #1 choice.

(source)

Baltimore, MD. Don't hate, think SEAFOOD.

(source)

Richmond, VA. One hour from Williamsburg. OMG.

(source)

Philadelphia, PA. BEN FRANKLIN. CHEESESTEAK.

(source)

Boston, MA. Paul Revere, duh.

(source)

Charlotte, NC. Family within 2 hour drive.

(source)

Heaven. Home, sweet home. Charleston, SC

(source)

NY. I would love, love, love to.

(source)

EAST COAST, BABY!

Anyone have any comments on these cities?

-b