Insomniac Thoughts

As I watched (with my newly minted LASIKed eyes) my bedside clock beams out “4:41am”, I knew I had drank some seriously strong coffee this evening. I simply can’t fall asleep! The coffee was in an effort to sound my approval for the latest study showing that coffee drinkers have less cancer. You know how when you can’t fall sleep, every physical discomfort is magnified ten-fold? My head turned and tossed and all but protested to the cumbersome goggle I have to wear in bed post-LASIK. My body heat was all but unbearable because the customary ceiling fan had to be turned off also due to post-LASIK instructions (my eyes will dry out, said the doc). Funny, hubby had Starbucks Espresso and a can of COKE, but he seems to be unperturbed in his slumber! My caffeine-driven insomnia would have been perfect for one of those on-call nights I’ll be doing in the soon future. “The ER has another new admit at 4am? No problem!” I would be energized, feeling chirper, ready to go . . .if only I was on call tonight.

Another tale-tell sign of insomnia is when your mind can’t be shut off, there are thoughts racing through my head like horses on a race track. I was thinking about the wrong things I said during Bible study tonight (I can be such a loud blabber mouth) and my future in medicine. I was also thinking that if I ever have another blog, maybe a private and personal as in my-eyes-only blog, I would name it “Journey to Heaven.” Isn’t that what life is all about to a Christian, our journey to heaven, the much awaited eventual destination? Once I heard a person say that our short life on earth is just a preparation for eternity. I don’t know if I totally accept that statement, but it is how I would like to think of and live my life. The people I meet, the ones I befriend, the man I marry, the strangers I encounter, the children I raise, the patients I treat, the family I love. . .they are all part of this journey that leads me back home, to God. Through the laughter, the tears, the frowns, the smiles, and the anger, the sadness, the jealousy, the joy. . .through the weddings, the funerals, the graduations, the birthdays, the quarrels, the vacations, the rainstorms. . .all the emotions and occasions of life are all slow, small, and sure steps to that one eventuality we will all face one day, death and standing before God.

I had some lofty thoughts of finding a new church family close to our new home. Not just a “church”, which sounds like any other place of establishment I frequent, like a hair salon or grocery store. No, a “church family” implies that I would get plugged in, as they say, I would know people who calls me during the week and hugs me on Sundays. I would volunteer in an area of ministry and have prayer partners. But reality is not so lofty. Actually, I would be working six days a weeks, and my day off not always Sunday but different every week, and I’ll be on call every fifth day. So, if I find a church, but don’t show my face, I’m guessing the “family” part of “church family” won’t really happen. Should I even find a church? Should I just focus my time on the Christian friends I have in my current small-group family-based Bible study?

If I was to be more honest and think deeper, which I apparently have plenty of time to do now, the truth is that once residency gets started, my schedule gets rolling and regimented, likely I won’t even be pondering these questions of church searching and spirtual journeying. I just won’t have the time, I know myself under stress.

I think about my life in medicine, and the specialty of internal medicine I am now bound to. The great arena that is internal medicine, sometimes referred to simply as “medicine.” It’s so encompassing, unlimited by organ systems and disease types. Except for obstetrics and gynecology and pediatric conditions, internal medicine covers everything else that might plague the human body. I don’t think I can just ignore the medical aspect of the female reproductive system and kids from now on, because as a female and mother-to-be, these topics are inherent to who I am. Professionally, however, I won’t be bothered with gyn and peds, so to speak. “Professional,” that’s what I am now. Before, I have been a professional student for many many years, but now I’m just a professional. Yes, I am looking forwarding to being a doctor. With gratitude and excitement, to be sure, but I’m not facing the future with full embrace, but with tender reservations. My heart is at home, but I’ve given myself to a profession.

I read through my resident contract for the first time today, it’s still a little unreal to me, to be paid for what I do. Me?! I’m 27 years old, and I’ve never been paid for anything I do except part-time minimum wage jobs. Well, technically, it’s a stipend, as the contract calls it, but it’s more money than I’ve ever seen attached to my name. I’ll be the bread earner for our small family of two no less since hubby will be quitting his job and reverting to full-time student status next week. I worry, just a healthy amount, about our finances. We’ll make do, after all, we have no plans of buying new cars or planning another wedding in the near future like we did the last couple of years. This is just temporary, my being the sole money maker. I am glad that hubby is pursuing his dreams. We bought a study desk for him in the spare bedroom, which can now be legally called a study room and I see things coming together for him.

So, how can I be a sojourner to heaven in light of all this? Do I continue to be a distracted sojourner? Will my prayers be just fleeting thoughts while on the road to and from work? Will my Chrisitiany be just a label to my identity? Will God be that distant figure in my head?