The perfect set of circumstances.

It’s December.  The sun is shining but I can’t feel it.  I live over the road from the sea but the water feels like it’s a million miles away.  My body feels a thousand years old and the baby has been asleep for no longer than an hour at a time over the last few days.  My exam notes are on the floor in a corner and I’m staring at the wall, asking my mother, through a veil of coffee-tinged fog, what craziness had entered my head that thought I could sit a five hour written examination with a newborn?  My mother shrugs and says “you can spend your whole life waiting for the perfect set of circumstances”.

And there it is, like lightning.

And here I am again, 3 weeks out from exam number 2, horribly horribly behind, with a small baby, the loving and long suffering husband, and us, just us, in our tiny place, with all our family interstate.  My colleagues put in hours and hours and I come home to see my little girl who gets a new superpower every day without me being there.  She is always happy to see me and my heart lives in various stages of broken.

I cry at work almost daily, mainly out of frustration.  Too many patients, not enough time, I don’t really know my colleagues, I have no little group.  They walk around the hospital in their study groups, diligently seeing cases.  I have no courage.  I present cases, I’m told things like “you need to work on your knowledge, your confidence, your face, your eyes, your words”.  I cry some more, and keep going.  The circumstances are far beyond ideal.  I’m incredibly close to failing.

And then I come home, to my loving and long suffering husband, to my smiling baby and my tiny apartment near the sea.  I talk to my friends via text because phonecalls in the evening are pointless with a baby and they cheer me on.  I think how lucky I am to have everything I have, exam or no exam.

have the perfect set of circumstances.  Maybe not for a huge exam, but I’ll do my best.

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4 comments

  1. Thinking of you. Wishing you well.

    And if you should be examining in the West, you’re welcome to draw upon my local knowledge/support.

  2. I like your perspective on things. There’s more important things than this exam.
    Still… Thinking of you. Wishing you well.

    And if you should be examining in the West, you’re welcome to draw on my local knowledge/support/shoulders to cry one.

  3. Have you spoken with your Director of Training? It sounds like you need some support. Never be afraid to ask for help.
    I cried regularly during the run-up to my exam, and I didn’t have a baby.
    Hugs.
    Also if you want to skype, I can do that too x

    1. I’m sorry for not replying to this at the time, I was so so strung out. My DPT did some extra stuff with me which really helped in the end.

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