Chapter 56: Always learning
All dressed up and ready for a Zoom graduation :)
This week, I took a bit of break from blog writing for us all to focus on more important messages.
Rather than posting blogs with my own thoughts, I found it more important to take time to educate myself on anti-racism and to avoid speaking about topics I simply do not yet feel qualified or educated enough to talk about.
“It is best to use language only when it is useful to do so. To talk a lot unnecessarily is like allowing thousands of weeds to grow in a garden. Is it not better to have fewer?” ~The Dalai Lama
This week, I graduated from medical residency and started my new role as chief resident. Four months ago, I had no idea if I would be able to finish my residency program as I faced my first emergency brain surgery and the start of a life-altering diagnosis. Medical providers spend years, lifetimes really, in training and academia. When I was initially diagnosed, I faced the fact that I may not be able to finish the residency program I had worked for since the age of 18. Yet, no mud, no lotus.
With the support of an outstanding residency program, never-ending cheerleading and love from family and friends, and a work ethic that cannot be suppressed even in the darkest of times, I completed my residency requirements and graduated this past Saturday via Zoom, an unusual ending to an unusual year. I can honestly say I have never been prouder of anything I have ever done. Regardless of what happens next, I am grateful.
This week, in my new role as chief resident, I was privileged to meet a nervous, yet excited new class of first-year resident physicians, entering the medical workforce at a time of profound change. I have a feeling there is no better time to enter the world of medicine than now, when the ground underneath our feet is more like sand than firm pavement, allowing for greater flexibility and adaptation.
Personal and professional growth, in my experience, seems to flourish most when uncertainty creeps in, allowing for plasticity of ideas, positive shifts in perspective, and acceptance that we will never know it all.
It is my belief that when we stop learning, we stop living.
This week, as I dive into my own new role, I hope to be a source of guidance, kindness, and compassion for our new learners. I hope I am qualified to give or find the answers they will undoubtedly seek from me.
Along with the challenges and opportunities offered this week in my new professional role, I also watch the time grow shorter before my next MRI. After finishing my first cycle of chemotherapy and radiation nearly three weeks ago, I have been in a somewhat peaceful phase of waiting. If you rush to get an MRI immediately after finishing radiation, all the radiologist will see is post-radiation irritation and the underlying state of the tumor will likely be unrecognizable. Due to this, brain cancer patients enter a month of waiting after their first treatment cycle. Waiting, wondering, worrying about what that next scan will show. Ideally, the next scan will show stability, or for the very lucky, perhaps mild improvement. For some, however, it will show that the treatment they put so much time and energy into simply did not work, and the tumor grew despite it all.
I am hopeful for good news as I approach my MRI this Sunday, ironically, the same day as our upcoming 5K. I take this as a positive sign; perhaps if my incredible community of friends, family, and supporters think positive thoughts, send prayers, radiate positive energy, etc. even for a second during the 5K, we can collectively create a positive outcome. I know, this may be silly, but honestly, it can’t hurt.
To those who have signed up for our virtual 5K and to those who have donated: THANK YOU.
Truly, you have all helped advocate for and/or financially support a cause clearly near and dear to my heart. More importantly, you have advocated for and financially supported an understudied and underfunded type of cancer. I have virtually met hundreds of people in the brain cancer community since my diagnosis. Let me tell you, these are good people. Brain cancer does not pick its victims in a way that makes sense. Many of us are young, formerly healthy, hard working adults. Many brain cancer warriors are new parents, loving siblings, fantastic friends, and essential workers in our communities. I know we all thank you for supporting our cause.
This Sunday, June 14th, I will be running/walking (radiation took more of my energy away than I expected) my 5K in a beautiful St. Paul neighborhood at 8:30am central time. For those on my team, run/walk/swim/etc at whatever time you would like. If you happen to run at 8:30 central time, know I’ll be running with you.
If you feel inspired, I would love to gather photos of team members (and share them on this blog and with the brain cancer community, only with your permission). I have a feeling your smiling faces will bring hope to many other brain cancer warriors as well.
After my 5K, I will head to the hospital for my MRI. Rather than worrying about the outcome, I feel grateful. Today, I sip a delicious mug of coffee, put on a pair of stylish new shoes, and head into the office to learn how to be the best damn chief resident I can be.
(For new readers interested in the 5K…. head to https://www.wizathon.com/walktoendbraintumors-mn/?p=display&action=participant_Page&id=83880 for more information. You can sign up as a free virtual participant on team “Eat, Pray, Love, Brain Tumor” or sponsor me financially. Thank you in advance for either form of support.)
Fondly,
Courtney
©CB2020