I was never really a big Christmas guy. The notion that we needed dedicated days of the year to spread good will towards men and be generous to others, to me, has always been a sad commentary of our times. The capitalistic movement to buy affection with apparel, joy through jewelry and love through laundry lists of wants and needs seemed very backwards, and to a lower-middle class kid somewhat unjust that he wasn't able to truly show others he cared. Still, it was fun sometimes, and the past few years I had really gotten into the gift giving and present contemplating. But nothing sucks the excitement of Christmas out of you faster than q3 call and being in house on Christmas Eve.
I'm post call right now, and spent the better part of the afternoon shopping for the neurosurgery mentors/attendings that have helped me throughout the years. The very idea of looking for presents for my brothers and parents exhausted me, and in my guilt I told them not to send me anything so we could exchange gifts next year when I actually had something to give. Walking around the ant colony like mall 3 days before Christmas was even more depressing. Having worn scrubs for the good part of the last 18 months I didn't notice that my clothes were slowly going out of fashion. I looked like the November 2008 college collection in the midst of Christmas LA 2011. But even so, just thinking about trying on new outfits sounded overwhelmingly tedious, having been up now for about 34 hours (there was a one hour nap in there somewhere). So there I was, shopping to continue my political relationships in neurosurgery and thank the neurosurgeons of years past, family neglected, self discounted and shamefully out of style. Neurosurgery stole Christmas this year.
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1 comment:
merry christmas, Won :-) you may not be with your biological family for Christmas but everybody at the hospital is your family too!
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