Back In Canada. Childless.

Before I get into catching up to the present, let me reverse to the past so I can give you another wonderful story from December to give a picture of the glamorous life of medicine.

Fecal.  Transplant.

The patient (recipient) comes to the colonoscopy suite prepared like any other.  Empty.

The great friend/family member (donor) goes into the bathroom and deposits their gift into a catcher.

The shit is then *blended* up with some saline... in a *standard regular blender*... then poured into a large basin.

The doc performs a regular colonoscopy, reaches the end of the colon, and then it's time for 'transplant'.  My job?  I had to take large syringes, stick them into the bucket of shit, draw up said liquid shit, pass off to doc, and assist in plunging it through the scope.  Over and over and over.

The smell was so strong my eyes literally burned.  This was one of 5 times in clinical rotations where I was actively concentrating on suppressing my gag.  A lot of shit would squirt out from the plunging site, so by the end it seemed as if shit was all over the place.  Which I know it really wasn't.  But it was far more dispersed than any adult shit should ever be.

The end result of this procedure is actually quite extraordinary to treat recurrent/treatment resistant C.diff.

However, while I can appreciate the success rates of this procedure, I never want to be actively involved in it again.  In any way.


After Urology finished in February, I went to Radiology for the month of March.  Then moved from Pontiac to Saginaw, where I stayed for 2 weeks of Geriatrics.

From Saginaw, I drove to Halifax.  Approx 1400 miles.  26hrs.  It actually went by surprisingly quickly!

I have been in Halifax for almost 5 weeks, with 1 week to go.  Even though I'm actively making plans for coming back to Alberta, it hasn't *really* sunk in that this is the real end.  It's an incredibly surreal feeling.

I am loving being back in the field of Psychiatry while in Halifax.  While this area of medicine is always throwing fascinating situations your way, I have found that living with the wonderfully, amazing, Kelly Family often does the same.

Cole, age 7.  Chloe, age 5.  Cohen, age 4.

I picked up a few catch-phrases...
From Cole ----

• "Cole go back to the mud-room and put your shoes, coat, and backpack away properly"
• "EUGH!!! WORST.  DAY.  EVVVVER." 
• "No Cole,  you cannot have the ipad"
• "EUGH!! This is the WORST day of MY LIFE!"

From Cohen ----

• After his dad gives him a snack.  As he chews very fast and is still chattering very fast.  He suddenly drops fork or whatever food he is holding, begins wailing and madly shaking his hands. 
• "ooooh buddy did you bite your tongue?" (*this happened borderline often)
• Through breaks of pain-filled sobs, he channels his pain into anger - "Daaaaaddy it's ALL  YOUR SAULT" (he can not make the 'ffff' sound and they come out as 'sss'.  As in, "I'm Sor year old and this is my sork")

• Cohen is. Adorable.  During his super sweet moments he gets cuddly, gives kisses, and lets you hug and kiss him.  These moments often lead us to say things like, "Oh Cohen you are such a sweet boy! I love Cohen kisses! Oh you're so cute!"
• These moments add up.  Cohen, while in his sweet moods, will now enter a room with a big smile, and as if to proudly announce his presence will say - "Whoooooo wants to kisssss meeeee!?"
• I predict great things for this child in grade school.  Keep it up buddy.  Keep. It. Up.

On a daily basis, for unknown reasons, Cohen would ask me how old I was.

On too numerous to count occasions, at least one of the kids would ask me if I was married and had my own kids. The conversation would go something like:

"do you have kids?"

"No. I don't"

"How come?"

"Well, because I'm still in school.  I need to finish ALL my school work."

"And then you'll have kids?"

"Well. No. Then I am going to work as a doctor and try to make people feel better when they are sick"

"And then you'll have kids?  No wait, then you have to get married first!"

"That's would be a starting point. Correct. Yes."

"AND THEN YOU'LL HAVE KIDS?!"

Knowing I couldn't crush their souls and spirits, this is where I finally cave and say:

"Sure. That's when I could have kids."

Being 26 years old, single, and childless is just *a lot* for their precious young minds to grasp.


My personal favorite moment was with Chloe during our bedtime routine.  Instead of a book, we would lay on her bedroom floor and sing her choice of 2 songs from Frozen. As we lay there giggling after singing "In Summer", she asks, "are you part of our family now?"

My own frozen heart is now a little more melted.