And so the final chapter begins.
Late last year, a convergence of circumstances jarred me out of the complacency i'd been lulled into since graduating from residency. Life was good - and would probably continue to be so for the foreseeable future - but it was time to move on. So i decided to try my hand at getting into a Pulmonary Critical Care Medicine (PCCM) fellowship.
My friends know that i haven't always wanted to do PCCM. For most of my medical career, i wanted to do Hematology. But after some soul-searching and re-examination of priorities/aptitudes/interests/skillsets, i realized that what i truly want to do is down-in-the-trenches, hands-on hyperacute internal medicine founded on a solid, procedurally-inclined subspecialty base. PCCM FTW!
(This is not without precedent, as i had spent most of my medical school wanting to do Trauma Surgery, which i ultimately decided wasn't all that i thought it would be.)
The beginning of the process was laced with hubris. I thought i was prime beef, the shiznit. But as the months dragged on and the response rate to my application turned out to be considerably less than overwhelming, i began to fill with quiet despair. At some point i decided to keep my intentions under wraps, mainly to avoid embarrassment if i didn't get in anywhere. Not that my self-esteem is extremely fragile, but i didn't want to have to explain/speculate why i didn't match over and over and over.
So June 15 came and went, and i found out that all my worry was for naught. I matched to a great program in a great city - Pittsburgh! - and now my anxiety has been replaced by its more pleasant cousin: excitement. Our family's Grand Rapids sojourn ends next June, and over the next three years we can finish writing what is hopefully the final chapter in this Dugyot's adventures in the USA.
Yup, from where i'm standing, the future looks bright.
P.S. Thanks to all the well-wishers and supporters!
Late last year, a convergence of circumstances jarred me out of the complacency i'd been lulled into since graduating from residency. Life was good - and would probably continue to be so for the foreseeable future - but it was time to move on. So i decided to try my hand at getting into a Pulmonary Critical Care Medicine (PCCM) fellowship.
My friends know that i haven't always wanted to do PCCM. For most of my medical career, i wanted to do Hematology. But after some soul-searching and re-examination of priorities/aptitudes/interests/skillsets, i realized that what i truly want to do is down-in-the-trenches, hands-on hyperacute internal medicine founded on a solid, procedurally-inclined subspecialty base. PCCM FTW!
(This is not without precedent, as i had spent most of my medical school wanting to do Trauma Surgery, which i ultimately decided wasn't all that i thought it would be.)
The beginning of the process was laced with hubris. I thought i was prime beef, the shiznit. But as the months dragged on and the response rate to my application turned out to be considerably less than overwhelming, i began to fill with quiet despair. At some point i decided to keep my intentions under wraps, mainly to avoid embarrassment if i didn't get in anywhere. Not that my self-esteem is extremely fragile, but i didn't want to have to explain/speculate why i didn't match over and over and over.
So June 15 came and went, and i found out that all my worry was for naught. I matched to a great program in a great city - Pittsburgh! - and now my anxiety has been replaced by its more pleasant cousin: excitement. Our family's Grand Rapids sojourn ends next June, and over the next three years we can finish writing what is hopefully the final chapter in this Dugyot's adventures in the USA.
Yup, from where i'm standing, the future looks bright.
Bright, indeed. (Picture taken in Batanes, not Pittsburgh) |