Oblivion

After a particularly brutal night of call, I hardly had the energy to stand. So during a conversation with a fellow surgical resident, while relaying to him the events of the night that took course regarding his patient, I sat down on a nearby stool. As my line of sight changed, my gaze happened to fall upon his ID badge. I looked at his picture, which was taken before our first day of work nearly 3 years ago. I paused for a minute. Then I burst into laughter.

My friend looked down at his badge, half-embarrassed, wondering why I was laughing so hard at his picture.

I looked at him now, and how working 80+ hour weeks for 3 years straight had changed us. Aged and matured us. Made us road weary. Gave us new creases and wrinkles and grayer hair. How being entrusted with the responsibility of people's lives adds an entirely new dimension of stress to the usual job requirement. And pretty much how three years ago, when we posed for our ID badge pictures, we had absolutely no idea what we were getting ourselves into.

I looked at that goofy smile on his badge. And the same, innocent goofy smile on my badge. I can't remember the last time either one of us looked that happy and relaxed.

The absurdity of it all, and the absurd idea that I would make the same decisions even if I could go back in time, made me face my masochistic yet altruistic tendencies for the first time. And all I could do was laugh.