One. More. Day.

In residency I used to tell myself I could anything for a month, and I always did just that. Well let me tell you, this last month has surely tested whether I've still got what it takes.

This month I...
Raised my voice, just a little, and just a few times.
Faked it till I made it.
Never guessed, looked it up.
Carried a toaster into the hospital.
Won a battle with a consulting attending.
Laid awake at night worrying if I'd hurt somebody.
Passed on my 4 rules to survive residency and the nickel-dime-quarter-dollar approach to right heart caths to a captive audience.
Got to work at 5:45 and/or stayed there until 8:00, more than once.
Started getting comments about my baby belly.
Kinda sorta almost missed a few moments (well, mostly people) from my residency.
Wore lipstick one time.
Rambled during morning report to give the resident a reprieve from a verbal pelting.

So all said and done I'm surviving so far. As long as the last day doesn't get me. And then I will have exactly 334 days until I do it all over again.