A Work in Progress

Back in August, I was invited to interview for PA school. I didn't say much about it here as I fear failure and getting to the interview stage is like being within arms reach of the dream. It was too close, and felt very fragile.  Instead I spent weeks agonizing over how to articulate my flaws without making them sound too negative.  It's pretty hard to justify "I don't take direction well."  "I am too independent"  "I actually hate people" "I lack motivation."  "I am too laid back."  "I'm only in this for the money".   You cannot be honest.  And definitely answers like "I care too much"  Or "I am too thorough" are frowned upon. Googling "how to survive a PA school interview" is a slippery and horrible slope. Everyone has advice.  Most of which was very useful. Some of which was down right terrifying. "They will ask you about the shortcomings of your application." one ...

So.  I guess I should do a little update...then about 100 more. Three years ago I made the decision to "go to PA school"  which I wanted to keep to myself due to the absolute impossibility of success. Somehow, everyone found out anyway.  I wanted to prevent the future conversation of "Hey, weren't you going to go back to school?"  "Me?"(looks around feebly) "No, I don't remember that." Quite happily, I can report that I won't be having that conversation (Unless it goes "Hey, weren't you in PA school?"  "Me?"(looks around feebly) "No, I don't remember that.")  and I will be starting PA school in the coming summer! I found out last week and have vacillated between joy, disbelief, and terror ever since. There was literally a 0.05 % chance of success so it really seems crazy to me. I couldn't even tell you 'why me?' although I am sure my overly kind-hearted friends would give you so...

I didn't mention it before, but I have been planning a trip to Greece for the last few months.  It has taken some time to plan as half of the time I am here, I'll be volunteering on a refugee camp which I now know houses Syrian and Iraqi refugees. Two dear friends and I are here now and I just wanted to check in.  We will be spending about 9 days on camp (though we are living in an apartment in a nearby town)  doing whatever needs to be done. So far we have helped arrange some storage, sort clothing, distribute bicycles, set up a clothes shop, and teach some first aid (with help of forgiving translators). This may all sound very mundane, but it feels important.  Important to help these people (read:  people) to feel safe, comfortable, and normal.  There is just so much going on politically, I have barely a meager grasp of the details.  But what matters is that these are people in a terrible situation that could happen to any of us. Anyway, there wi...

Sometimes this job is like a race. Like you're carrying this person on your back, and it's a messy race. You're tripping and sweating and you almost drop them. It's bouncy and there's trash everywhere. And if you can just get them over that line. To the line and throw them over. Throw them over and into the ER, you're obligation is fulfilled. Your job is done. You've won the race. And for a long time, that was it. Mission accomplished and I wasn't responsible for anything else. I didn't care about anything else. Get them to the hospital.  Dust my hands off and pat myself on the back. But somehow, they crept in. What did happen?  Did they live?  For the first time I asked myself.  I began to bring them home. I put them on a shelf and they stared down at me. They said, did you run fast enough?  Did you fall?  Did you drop me?  You threw me onto this island- over your line, but was it salvation?  I left in a hel...

I didn't make this, but I wish I had.  

Life is hard, man.

EMS week haul.  

 Sometimes I come home to presents.

Yep, there's a goat in your house.

Costco win.