Behind the Scenes

Here it is, early August, and I'm told leaves are changing in Vermont (the photo is actually later in autumn, but I thought you'd like it). It seems awfully early for that, especially with a warm sun spreading itself over the hayfield. My cat is laying on the bookshelf near the window, gazing yearningly at birds that scamper in the yard. I sometimes think they do this on purpose, glancing occasionally at him as if to say, "We're not afraid of you!"

I have friends who are beginning third year rotations this morning even as I write. I will not be joining them, however, for at least a few weeks as I have a second date with board exams. As happens more frequently than one might imagine, I didn't pass my first time through and so it's preparation time once again.

Interestingly, I'm not as disappointed as I think I ought to be. For reasons I have not been able to isolate, I have a queer feeling that this is purposeful. Don't get me wrong, I certainly intended to pass and gave it my best effort. But not passing seems to me to be no accident. I'd prefer, naturally, to be on the wards, trying to make my way through patient records, doctor's orders, and the confusion that accompanies anything new. Nevertheless, I feel like I'm where I'm supposed to be and have no idea why.

It's as though something or someone is working behind the scenes, directing the action, and I'm on stage knowing only my lines and waiting for a cue from my fellow players. What we see, how we respond to one another, is only a part of the whole and, in actuality, a small part at that. Everything could change in a moment and we'd have to adapt, ad-lib, and go with the flow. Maybe that's the lesson I'm "supposed" to learn (do I have to learn it again???) out of all this. Beats me, but I intend to be a good student, one way or the other.


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