Okay, sort of. We had as much of a plan as you can in our interesting little situation. Y was going to specialize in emergency medicine (and possibly go into space). He was going to do an away rotation in Baltimore. He thought his chances of actually getting in there were pretty high.
So my brain did the only thing it knew how to do: it created a life in Baltimore. Maybe I would take the train into DC and work. On my days off, I would take Ike and we would comb the state of Maryland for the best crab cakes. My nieces and nephews would come visit me and I would be their fun yet educational aunt who took them to the Spy Museum but only after a visit to the Capitol.
Hello, fun yet educational aunt.
Y would… work. On his days off we would go to baseball games or take Ike on walks on the harbor. Or maybe Y would just sleep.
But then Y did the unthinkable: he switched specialties.
First he decided he was interested in a super specialized emergency medicine/ internal medicine program. There were only 5 in the country that met his criteria. One was in Baltimore, so I kept our Baltimore life active in the back of my head. But suddenly, there were 4 very specific other places we could live. Chicago. North Carolina. Richmond. Brooklyn.
New York hadn’t been on our radar before. We weren’t even considering it. But for one minute I let myself imagine what our lives would be like in the city. One morning, while crossing a busy street near my work, I even practiced the face I would make when Y announced “SUNY at Brooklyn!” on Match Day. I think it looked like a mixture of hipster wannabe and flat broke.
Or maybe it looked like this, at the thought of having to cross the Brooklyn Bridge again.
But that specialty was fleeting. After a slight existential crisis, Y is now set on internal medicine. The thing about internal medicine? There are programs everywhere. Baltimore isn’t on top anymore. Goodbye, crab cakes. Hello cheese steaks. Hello Chicago dogs. Hello Grand Ole Opry. Hello clam chowda and cannolis. Hello Space Needle. Hello Stumptown coffee.
Cheesesteak, cannoli, chicago dogs.
I can’t keep up with my thoughts these days. Neither can my stomach, because apparently most of my hypothetical future lives involve food.
Yes, this can be annoying. For example: Besides the fact that I think my brain is running out of juice, I would love to buy a bike. But do I want a bike for occasional, leisurely use or an everyday bike in case we move somewhere bike friendly where I could ride to work? Only time will tell. Time being approximately 224 days, 7 hours, 41 minutes and 13 seconds according to Mrs. Dr. D‘s countdown.
These are tough problems, people.
But in spite of this annoyance, I kind of want to relish in the moment. How often will we get the chance to daydream about moving [almost] anywhere we want? Not often.
So I have three questions for you: Where do you live? Why should we consider your city/state? Where would you live if you could choose 1 place in America?
(And yes- Y is placing importance on other things than the city and its food culture– like the strength of the program, and of course, whether he gets a sense that he likes the hospital after he visits. )