We're talking about my paying job here....something I fit in to my regular life every now and then. No one but me could possibly understand my on-call schedule or my days in outpatient clinic but trust me, there is method to the madness. I tend to work in spurts; 4-5 days and then nothing for a stretch, then one day, then nothing until the next 4-5 day stint comes up. I guess this is OK but after two years of a reduced schedule, surrendering most of my longtime patients to others, and trying to figure out what to do about the rest of my professional life, two years seems like a long time trapped in limbo. I've lost touch with the experience of doctoring in full gear, full time, with all its excitement (and warts). Most days I feel there is nothing I can do but "doctor" and that makes me mad, other days sad, and other days reassured that I'll always have something to do.
I titled this post "A New Office" because in the the last week, I've moved from my spacious office that I've called home since 1994 (whoa 14 years) down the hall to a new office which I share with another. I accept this. Totally. The new doc, hired over the summer, is now calling my old office home. When space is limited, the new hire who works full time needs the private office. As for me, I'm in clinic only one day a week and the rest of the time I'm in the adjacent hospital. I don't need that private office lying dormant when the new hire sits in a cramped shared space. Acknowledged.
Sharing an office is new to me; back in in my fellowship days there were four of us in one huge office and we all heard each others phone calls, rants, and raves. No privacy there but then again, we were all 20 somethings and who cared? We didn't. My new office mate is lovely. I've known her for years but I feel inhibited. No longer can I curse freely in my office, make private personal phone calls, cry, eat candy bars or just sit and stare out the window. Well, I can but....you know, it's different. We're cramped and constantly trying to keep our desk chairs from hitting each other when one of us leaves the room. I hear her on her phone and have to block it out in order to think or type or whatever it is I'm trying to do. I guess the main thing is I have to be polite. Lots of times I don't feel polite.
Change is the nature of every day; usually small stuff, sometimes big. My new office space is a bigger change but I'll look on it as an exercise in finding a new normal.
When I first read this post, I thought, "Oh, no." But then I thought, perhaps, this is the first sign of other new good things to come. Perhaps this is about another bit of letting go of the old job and is a bridge to something new that is not quite here yet.
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