I want to write about something

But I don't know what to write about. I only have a few days of medical school left. Less than ten days from now, I am going to assume the title of "doctor." Then, in very short order, I will pack my bags, and go on to training in the North with the yankees. It feels like things are coming apart. Not in a bad way, per se, but kind of like a hydrolysis sort of way. The good friends I have made in medical school are mostly scattering throughout the country. I am going to Michigan. Doubledown is going to Colorado, Padre and Stormcloud are headed to other parts of Texas, and Julie (the blode-haired Texas gal with that peculiar Texas accent where she pronounces "ice" like "ass") is going to a prestigious program on the east coast. Julie never got a nickname but I apparently made her med school career when I told an attending that I thought the most appropriate course of treatment for an overdose patient was "a good swift kick in the ass." We all have stories like that. While most of med school pretty much sucked, I made some good freindships with some good guys. I will never forget Stormcloud and I working a code, covered in regurgitated burrito and cracking ribs with chest compressions. I will also remember Padre's chalkboard artwork in the histology lab, and the names for his characters (Gunny Lingwiss, The wizard of Os, etc.). I also will not forget him sitting with the rest of us in Houston's flying saucer bar; as he calmly recommenced drinknig after vomiting into a corner from his chair. He never got up or anything, he just put the beer down, leaned over, puked, and resumed drinking as cooly as if he had just lit up a cigarrette.

I hate to say it, but I had some good times. Now, though, we are are kind of breaking up like a bunch of ice cubes thrown into warm water. Stormcloud was lamenting this fact with his bride, when she turned to him and consoled him, saying "he would make new friends." Stormcloud's response was "I don't want new friends, I like the ones I've got." And frankly, I feel the same way. Right now, we are all so busy getting ready for our respective moves, that we really don't have time to see each other. At least there is hope that we shall be reunited again. After all, we all like Dallas, and several of us have family there, so we will be in the same town.

My sister is going to Iraq. She busted her butt, and got into a good unit. She may miss my graduation for pre-deployment training, which saddens me, of course. I do understand, though. Perhaps more than she knows. For Marines, there are many, many worse fates than dying at your post. I am a little concerned. Maybe I am just full of myself, but I don't think she quite grasps what she is in for. She's going to Iraq in a few months, and she's too damned eager.

Otherwise, things are generally going to Hell in a handbasket. I remember as a freshman in high school, one of our history teachers talking about the Pax Romana, and how some people were suggesting the theory that we were in a Pax Americana. This was before anyone outside of Arkansas had ever heard of BJ Clinton. Now, I look at what is going on with immigration, and find myself thinking that this is going to be a long, slow, and ugly slide into whatever it is fate holds for us. I see the vacillating on Iran and the general lack of will that is being exposed. I see all of this, and I wonder what will happen when Ronald Reagan doesn't show up to rescue us this time.

I know. Sounds pretty depressing, and I shouldn't let it. I am fulfilling a dream here. I am going to be a physician. I am going to go into emergency medicine, which is what I always wanted. I have a beautiful and loving wife (without whom, I would be lost. No kidding, I don't think I would be walking across that stage next weekend if it weren't for her). Yes, the future is uncertan. Not only for the nation, but even for my circle of friends. Of course the future is uncertain. Life itself is uncertain. There were only two times in my life where I felt as if everything was going according to plan. Not just being on time for lunch planning, but I actually felt like I was exactly where destiny had made a place for me. The first time was in a bus, with a bunch of other guys going down an unknown road towards Parris Island, SC. We crossed a bridge to get to the island, and getting back across that bridge was one of the toughest things I ever did. The other time was on my wedding day. Old friends I had not seen for years flew across the country for it. Despite the decided lack of control and abundance of improvisation, everything just sort of seemed to fall into place. Even the mistakes seemed to occur at their appointed time. Okay, there was a third time, when things seemed certain, but that involves bayonets, blood, fear, and what lies beyond fear. I shall not speak of it now.

But aside from that, nothing was certain. Life is not certain. I am damned scientist, and you would not believe how many things we assume, although we are not certain. Hell, half the time, we are absolutely clueless as to what exactly the Hell is going on. Don't believe me? Next time you go for surgery, ask your anaesthesiologist how those gasses work on your body. Hint: he hasn't the foggiest idea. Nobody knows why or how they work, we just know that they do, and there are millions of surgeries to support it.

but where there is uncertainty there is also potential. It is in uncertainty that allows us to make great leaps. For our founding forefathers, there was a war for independance that they waged, and the outcome was far from certain. For the early astronauts, setting foot on the moon could only be done after traversing unimagineable miles of uncertainty.

So, here I sit, staring into a CRT display, with months of uncertainty ahead.

Yes, uncertainty.

The same uncertainty that met me in medical school.

Respectfully Submitted,
-doc Russia