When I first discovered the network of medical spouse bloggers, I wasn't interested in many of them. I found a lot of them very "poor me, my husband had to work last night" or, "Today is Tuesday and I am the luckiest woman in the world because I have a kind husband who is sacrificing everything to save patients. I will love him forever. SMOOCHES, HONEY! Check back tomorrow for more of the same."
Keely was one of the first blogs I dared to follow because she wasn't like that. And she has a cute puggle. And -- possibly most importantly -- she teaches me everything I need to know about Dancing With the Stars.
You see, a little while back one of our medwife friends wrote a post about how people assume we married future doctors for their future money with undertones suggesting that we will always be the woman behind the man. The whole woman behind the man thing is something I added, but I think it sums up what so many assume the life of a doctor’s wife is (mind you, I only know what it’s like to be married to a medical student, not a doctor).
However, Mrs. Dr. D’s post struck a particular chord with all of us when she said this:
“It so happens that you are also fairly confident that you will make your own equally important, unique mark in the world. You just won't be doing it with an ", MD" behind your name."
So D was wondering how I plan on making my mark…
(For fear of being totally dull, I’ve included some photos of my pets.)
Oh my gosh. I have no idea. I don’t plan on spending the rest of my life only supporting my husband’s career, but in this stage of our lives he needs me to be there for him. I really do think of these years as his. Were in New York for him, and I work at a job I’m less than crazy about to stay here for him…but also for us.
In my quiet moments, which have occurred frequently throughout the last two years, I’ve been enjoying taking the time to do things to get to know myself better. You know, branch out a little.
I enjoy trying new recipes, spreading my wings a little in the realm of decorating, dabbling in slightly more fashionable things than I’m accustomed. These things may seem insignificant, but I think they are more important than they sound in developing yourself as a person.
But then I started blogging, and the more interesting people I came across, the more I wanted to expand my own horizons. I read blogs, I write my own, all in an effort to grow as a person.
I’ve also enrolled in an Anthropology course for the Fall. It’s something I’ve been very interested in for a while now, and I’d like to get my feet wet before J’s residency.
Why before residency, you ask? Well, because that is my time. J will have an income, and even though I fully intent to contribute, there is less pressure to bring in any certain amount. (At least I hope not, we will see where we end up.) I could go back to school, I could work a less steady job that makes me insanely happy…the options are endless.
I changed majors so much that I practically just Eenie-Menie-Mynie-Moed my way to a major in journalism and a minor in Biology. It is what it is. I have a job. Life is good. I’m a writer and editor for a medical news website, and I want to pinch myself each time I say it. There is nothing wrong with the job- there is something wrong with my butt in a chair for 8 hours every day. No good.
I enjoy learning, and I’d like a master’s degree, but I’m only going back to school if I’m in love. I’m talking crazy in love with a subject.
So much of my life remains up in the air, partially because my husband is a medical student, and partially because I can find it in myself to love so many things. My inability to choose the career path I truly want has nothing to do with disliking everything…and everything to do with liking most things.
Am I making a point here? Not really. The truth is that I’m incredibly immersed in my husband’s future profession, but I have not forgotten about figuring out what I want in life. If anything, I chase it with more hope and determination as I watch my best friend get one step closer to his dream each and every day. I imagine that the way I envy how he is doing what he loves will only become stronger when he gets his nose out of books and gets his hands dirty during third year.
Another plus, J would never let me become complacent with being the woman behind him. It’s possible that he wants me to find my passion in life more than I do.