I must admit, February of Intern year isn’t the best. The high of being a resident has worn off to the everyday stress and anxiety that comes with the job. I spent January on a block of nights and clinic. At our program, we will do a week of nights (Sunday through Saturday 6pm-6am) followed by a week of clinic (Monday through Friday 8:00-5:00). Transitioning to nights isn’t that hard for me. I’ll take a nap Sunday afternoon, drink my latte (thank you Jacob!), and walk to keep myself awake in the hospital. Switching back to days is a completely different story. Trying to get my internal clock to straighten out seems to take days, but the clock keeps ticking and we keep moving forward.
Living in Northern Indiana brings weird weather, comfort food, and kind people. It is common, and almost law, to say “hello”, “good morning”, or “how are you?” when you walk past someone, honestly anyone. When you give pleasantries out like candy, are they actually said in a sincere and inquisitive manner? After our “hellos” and the inevitable “how are you,” I found myself internally asking “do you really want to know?” And one day, I truly asked.
On my second week of nights solo, I came into our work room like a whirlwind. There wasn’t any specific event that caused my stress and anxiety to be elevated, it just was. My lunch was thrown in the fridge and my computer got up and running. The list of patients was completely new to me and longer than I had anticipated. My fellow intern was working in the emergency room and came in to finish her notes. The conversation started like normal: “Hey Aleena”… “Hi”… “How are you?” I looked up from the computer and studied her for one second, and then two. My mind felt like a dumpster fire. On one hand, I could make this conversation stop quickly. I could say “doing all right” or “okay” and it would be over. Or I could be honest. Wasn’t that a scary thought? I knew I wasn’t “all right”, I wasn’t “okay”. I knew this intern was a safe person. I wouldn’t be ridiculed, I wouldn’t be dismissed. How lucky was I to have a friend and coworker that I knew would pause with me. So, I said… “honestly?” Her retort was quick and so much like her I wanted to laugh. “Obviously,” she chuckled. “I’m surviving.” Pause. She turned to look at me then too. She knew, she understood. Even if we didn’t talk about it, if we weren’t honest, interns all knew that feeling of surviving. I’m sure it continues through residency, but getting through this day, this week was all I could focus on. “Yeah,” she said. Her voice was softer and held a hint of sadness too. Our conversation wasn’t long. The job needed to get done, but in that moment I offered myself the freedom to be honest in the “how are you?” dilemma. I cried later that shift, around 3am, when putting my emotions aside no longer became an option and it poured out of me in tears. It wasn’t any specific trigger. Instead it was all of the small things I was carrying for too long: not seeing my husband and daughter, not sleeping well, feelings of isolation, my own imposter syndrome and feeling inadequate, feeling lost and a drift, ruminating on my tough cases, the patients I lost, and those I had to tell terrible news. All the small boxes had grown taller than me and too heavy to hold, it was inevitable that I would trip.
I’ve spoken and written many times about my own mental health, the highs and lows. I’ve talked about my struggles and worked to be honest and open about those things in the last few years. I’m here to tell you it’s still hard. It’s hard to be honest, be vulnerable, and open. It’s difficult to let people see all of you, including the dark and twisty parts of you. I hope moving forward I can be honest in those moments, and I hope I’m given the space and grace to allow that.
I want to encourage all those who read this to be intentional with the words you say, even to strangers. Be ready for the response when you ask a question. Allow your fellow humans to be vulnerable and offer a safe space. If time does not allow for a conversation, wish them well as you walk by. You’re allowed to break tradition with the “How are yous”. If the question is thrown your way, at least be honest with yourself. Take a moment out of your morning to assess your own well-being, and if you find yourself just surviving or just holding on, reach out and get help. You deserve more out of like than just surviving.
My days, and nights, are busier than they used to be, but I am always ready to talk with friends over coffee.