Things that are currently taking up valuable space in my brain:
Money (or more accurately, the lack thereof)
I'm lonely. I don't think I've ever moved anywhere where I literally do not know one person before.
The fact that I've managed to forget large amounts of emergency medicine in the year it's been since I've done any emerg-- I feel like an idiot at least 3 times a shift.
The balance on our VISA card. It has to be paid off before I start mat leave, or it will continue to eat away at me indefinitely.
I'm leaving for a month-long trauma rotation at the end of this week and don't even know where I'm staying (it's supposed to be arranged by my program)
I'm worried that I'm never going to figure out how to get a freaking OHIP billing number, and will never get paid for the hospitalist work I've already done.
The bases that my paramedic husband is working out of are anywhere from 1-2 hours away. I worry about him being on the road, particularly at the end of a night shift.
Due to his commute, my husband is often gone for 14-16 hours for his 12-hour shift. With me out of town, I am very stressed about how we're going to manage with the dogs.
The scrub tops at my new hospital fit funny-- the mediums don't fit over my expanding belly, and I swim in the larges. I always have to try on 5 or 6 of them on before I find the one random medium that is a big bigger. Gah.
I am worried that if I feel isolated now, my maternity leave will be hellish. Having a baby in late November in Canada is the worst timing ever-- my leave will end just as the weather starts improving.
As is always the case, as my anxiety rises, my appetite disappears. I'm having trouble eating (anything but freezies and popcicles anyway) which doesn't help the way I've been feeling. I'm not too worried about The Bean, since I've managed to gain nearly 10 lbs anyway.
I've had a few more pre-syncopal episodes at work. As long as I'm careful to eat every 3-4 hours I'm hanging in, but I live in fear of passing out in the ER.
I'm worrying about the fact that our last appliance is now nearly a month late. I want my freaking dishwasher. I've lived without one for two years, and I'm dying to have properly clean dishes again.
I am concerned that I will never find a good weekend to take ATLS. I can't believe I put it off this long.
I really want a vacation. Like, want one so badly I can taste it. The beach kind. Or the spa kind. Definitely not in the budget.
I am worried that I am going to mess up my job as a hospitalist. I'm not used to working without backup, and not having anyone checking my orders and treatment plans. I could kill people with this kind of responsibility.
Baby stuff costs money. Money we don't have.
I worry that I'm never going to feel 'at home' in our new town, and will be miserable the whole time we're here.
I'm worried that I'm never going to get a central line on the first try.
I worry that the dogs won't take well to the new baby
I'm very worried that I'm going to suddenly become a 'mom' when the baby comes. In the not-good way. In the high-waisted jeans, always smelling like baby vomit, out of shape, unable to talk about anything but my child's bowel movements kind of way.
I am worried that even after a year of emergency medicine, I still won't feel prepared for work in the emergency room.
I also worry about crying at work. I cry a lot. I know it's the pregnancy hormones, because I never cry. I don't even get PMS. But my coping skills are pretty much nonexistant at the moment.
We really need to fence in the yard, but... big surprise... we can't really afford it. But if we don't do it before the ground freezes, I'm faced with bundling up a newborn in the middle of a Canadian winter to walk the damn dogs.
I worry that I made the wrong decision to pursue emergency medicine when I could have joined a nice, safe family practice and started digging myself out of this financial hole.
I'm worried that I'm going to be miserable away from my husband for the next two months (after trauma, I have another out-of-town rotation). I am a horrible suck when it comes to him. The last time we had to do the long-distance thing I was on elective out west during medical school-- I missed him so much I ended up stacking my shifts and coming home early.
I'm worried that I'll never work up the motivation to unpack the rest of the house now that the important stuff is done. Let alone paint the colours we had already picked out.
I'm worried that my PDA will finally figure out that I've been unable to HotSync it for over a year, and will lock me out of my desperately needed Lexi-Drug and 5 Minute Clinical Consult programs.
I am worried that I will hate my post-baby body, and that no amount of diet an exercise will make things right again.
I am now down to my last pair of dress pants that still fit. If I'm going to be moonlighting until mat leave, I'm going to need to find some maternity work clothes-- NOT something I want to spend money on at this point.
I worry that our child will be born with some kind of severe disability and will be dependent on us for life.
I worry that my dogs will somehow escape my watchful eye and unfenced yard and find their way onto a nearby busy street where they will be hit by a car. I didn't say that all of my fears and worries were rational ones.
I can no longer see my own genitals. I worry that my feet won't be far behind.
I worry that my husband will never get on with the EMS in town, and will have to commute to out-of-town bases the whole time we live here.
I realized that next month's trauma rotation isn't an ER-trauma rotation... it's a general surgery rotation. My last general surgery rotation (as those of you who have read this blog since the beginning may remember) nearly killed me. And that was BEFORE I was pregnant. I can't do 10 hour days on my feet anymore, and I certainly can't handle assisting in the OR. I've applied for vacation to shorten the rotation by a week, but if it doesn't get approved I'm thinking of pleading sick leave on the basis of my inability to stay upright for long periods with my ongoing hypotension. And my rapidly developing anxiety disorder.
I am worried that my inlaws, whom I love, will begin to drive me nuts now that we're living relatively nearby.
I'm disappointed that Rebecca is Canada's Next Top Model. I was really rooting for Sinead.
Okay, enough bitching. More uplifting posts to come.