Lawyer: Even for a surgeon, wouldn’t you call that kind of schedule grueling?

Miranda: YOU could say that. I wouldn’t. I would say it’s wildly successful. But then, I would never put a woman’s success in the “con” column.

~Grey’s Anatomy

The first thirty days. The learning curve is as sharp as Sisyphus’s mountain. The holes in my training and short attending tenure are evident. The new experiences bound off my shoulders as I push the boulder with each new patient encounter. I have arrived. I am not hiding behind the outpatient clinic sign. No longer sending patients that are too sick to the ER to be managed by another physician. No longer delegating the responsibilities of hospital management. No longer desperate for obstetric patients, as there is clearly ‘something in the water’.

The first thirty days. Emergency management of STEMIs, septic patients, fractures. More OPERATIVE deliveries than ALL of my deliveries for the last year! Twins. Twice. VBACs. Breech deliveries. Inpatient management. An outpatient clinic that has been as busy in my first month as in the last months of my previous practices.

The first thirty days. Living in a community of glass houses has also been quite the intimidating summit. As the latest local novelties, our every detail is in the paper and on the Internet. Strangers know details of our family, previously restricted to our circle of friends. Details of our family have been creatively changed resulting in giggles among those that know the truth.

The first thirty days. Infinite sunrises. Sunny afternoons. Sipping wine. Reconnecting. Girls on bikes and scooters. A dog beneath the oaks. New friends. Smores. Fire pits. Deliveries of corn, beans, brownies, cookies, cakes, and plants.

The first thirty days. It has been grueling. More importantly, it’s wildly successful.

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