"The" House, Take 2

You've been waiting for the story, the photos, and all the details.  Well...

It's official.  We bought a house!

We've been here a week, and we love it.

They say home buyers make up their mind about whether or not they like a house within the first seven seconds.  In our case, I think it was even less.

Our realtor sent us the listing as soon as it came on the market with a note that it had the bedrooms and the space we were looking for.  Intriguing.  There weren't any photos yet, so, of course, I looked it up on the county assessor website.  Appealing.  Next, I mapquest-ed it.  Interesting.  Naturally, the next step was the drive by.  Not disappointing.  A long two weeks later there was an "open house" sign in the front yard.  Finally!

Conveniently, Jason was out of town for the week at CIY, but I went anyway.  As I stepped into the entry way I could almost hear an audible voice say, "This is your house."  Confident, and slightly annoyed that there were other people in the hall, I toured the rest of the house as if someone had already handed me the keys.

The finishes weren't impressive.  The brass, light oak, and mauve floral carpet weren't my taste.  Still, it had everything on the list.  Size, location, potential, and price.  Everything.  Even the laundry chute!

Sure that Jason would love it too, and afraid of letting it get away, I signed the offer before my husband had even been inside.  To complicate things, communicating with him in the middle of Missouri that week was sketchy at best.  I sent him a text hoping he would get it sometime that day:

I bought you a snowblower today... hope you like it.

He responded: Lol... seriously?

Totally!  It's awesome.  Can I call?

We actually did buy a snowblower, and a riding lawn mower, too, but it also came with a house.  "The" house.  Without a doubt, a few days later he loved it, too.  Inspections, closing, and moving all went smoothly, and here I am typing this in my new house.

Love it!  Worth it!

*     *     *

Okay, okay.  Cut to the chase.  After all of that build up I know you really just want the tour, so I took a few more pictures of my favorite things to share with you.

I've never had a view of the backyard from a kitchen window before.  I wouldn't give it up now, and it's even better that I can't see a neighbor (or that they can't see me).

The kitchen island came with three stools for three little boys.  You may also notice a few small things in the background that we were missing at our old house called a stove and a dishwasher.  And they work, too!  What you don't see is the upright deep freeze that is perfect for my monthly meals.

The open floor plan complete with a fireplace and dining space big enough for our table.

I can't wait to decorate the stairwell for Christmas.

The former formal (try saying that ten times fast) dining room now soon to be an office behind the kitchen.  

Future man cave.

We've never had soft water before.  What a treat!

Storage and more storage, and each boy has his own room.  They also have a bathroom just for the three of them, so now neither we nor our guests have to move the little potty to use the big one. 

TV nook (that won't stay) in the master bedroom.  Also, don't miss the hand-painted ivy around the windows (that also won't be staying).

Owen has already shot a few baskets.

View of the boys' future elementary school across the field from the back deck.

The boys already breaking in the perfect spot for a baseball field in the unfenced part of the lot.  It also, conveniently, contains a bike trail that goes to the elementary school, church, middle school, and grandma's house.

It's not without a few updates, for sure.  Taking down these things from the front porch was project #1.  It feels more like our house already.

Call Curse

For the most part, I'm not a believer in curses, superstitions, or lucky socks.  But there is one jinx I don't mess with, and that's the "call curse."  Some residents call it a "black cloud," and the rest don't call it anything for fear of it being true.

 

If you're a resident, I probably don't need to say more.  For the rest of you, I'll give you an example:

 

I was on call last Friday night.  When I woke up to Jordy at 4:30AM instead of the beeping of my pager, I realized I hadn't been paged for nearly six hours.  Essentially, I had a full night of sleep.  I don't know that that has ever happened during a call in my residency.  It was turning out to be a great night, but, of course, I didn't say that out loud.  I tried to not even think it - that's the curse, you see. 

 

A little while later Jason woke up.  Despite living through my residency, he didn't understand the curse.  "I didn't hear your pager last night," he reported.  I shot him the angry death glare knowing that he had just unleashed the curse from the call gods.  Angrily, I explained my frustration, and then three, maybe four, seconds, literally seconds, later: beep-beep-beep-beep.

 

The blood rushed out of his face and his mouth gaped open with an endless apology - as he should for doing such an evil thing and ruining my perfectly good call night.

 

Per my routine, I headed in to the hospital to round.  I was finishing up seeing my last patient at 7:50AM, with 10 minutes left on my call shift, when I ran into one of the staff doctors.  "Susan, the list doesn't look too bad.  It must have been a quiet night."  No!  Don't say it!  You guessed it, despite knocking on wood (or maybe it was just a particle board desk), at 7:53AM my pager rang out: beep-beep-beep-beep.  Another admission.

 

I'm not joking.  It's real.  Respect it.  And don't ever ask me if it's been a quiet night until it's well past 8:01AM!

 

(And, yes, I know that by writing this I'm guaranteeing that my last three calls of residency are going to be nightmares.)

29 days

With 29 days left of residency, things are setting in hard and fast that this is all ending and something else is beginning.

After four years of college, four years of medical school, and over three years of residency, it's about time.

Still, I have my days when I feel anxious, and when I question if I am really ready after all.  I hope that feeling is normal.  I understand that I have chosen a career where it is impossible to know everything, but every day I pray that I know enough.  Just enough.  "Dear God, give me this day thy daily memory of that random fact from second year of medical school."

Despite my anxiety, I really am excited.  I'm excited to not have to get up extra early to beat my staff in to do hospital rounds in the morning.  I'm excited to not have to schedule or start a completely new rotation each month.  I'm excited to not have to explain what a "resident" is to patients with that confused look on their face.  I'm excited to not have to staff Medicare patients.  I'm excited to get paid.  I'm excited for Tuesdays off.

Surely the first few days, weeks, and maybe months are going to be a steep learning curve.  There will be days of doubt and days of confidence.  There already are.  But, like a wise little train engine once said:  

I think I can.  I think I can.  I think I can.

Or, as from someone even more wise than that:

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.  And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.  Finally, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable - if anything is excellent or praiseworthy - think about such things.  Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me - put it into practice.  And the God of peace will be with you.

Phillipians 4:4-9