January 2, 2019

... And Then There Were Three

January 02, 2019 1
“There’s no perfect time.” I spent hours researching when to have a child in medical school and that phrase was used in almost every website and blog post I stumbled upon. I always knew that I wanted to have at least one child whole in med school (maybe even two!) but I couldn’t figure out when. And “there’s no perfect time” was no help. The best advice I received came from one of our deans. She said,

“The longer you wait, the more important you become.”


Taking time off as a medical student will not impact the hospital in any significant way. But when you become a doctor, and when you start climbing up the ladder of positions, the hospital may not be able to afford your absence. So even though the internet says there was no perfect time to have a child, the dean made me realize that there might be a best time to have a child.

We found the best time for us. The time between my second and third year of medical school, my MPH year. I expect that next year will be the hardest year of med school. I will have some intense shifts with crazy hours and no break longer than two weeks. It would be impossible to get pregnant that year without having to take time off (maybe even an entire year off) from med school. So once I found out I got accepted into the dual MD/MPH degree program, my husband and I found this elusive “perfect time” that I thought didn’t exist. We immediately began to look for houses, accepting the fact that though our tiny two-bedroom apartment was the best place for us at the time, it wasn’t where we wanted to raise a family. I removed my IUD and as we house shopped, we did the baby dance (hehe). In order to give birth and have some time off as a new mother before my hardest year of medical school, we had to get pregnant before September. My mind tends to imagine the worst whenever I truly long for something, so of course I was scared I was infertile when I didn’t get pregnant the first few weeks. My fears were quickly relieved though when I missed my next period. I got my first positive pregnancy test less than a month after moving into our new house. Mid-September, perfect timing (for us. Everyone’s “best time” will be different. My medical school journey will not be practical, ideal, or even desirable to everyone).

Yes, we’re scared. We don’t know where life will take us. I know that things don’t always work out as planned and you have to find a way to navigate the surprise speed bumps life lays on your path. Neither of us has experience with babies. My husband is the youngest and I was still a child when the youngest people in my family were born. I’ve never even seen a dirty diaper, much less changed one. We will be learning as we go, adapting to life’s twist and turns and hoping for the best. But we aren’t the first to embark on this journey. It’s been done before and it will be done again. Doctors have children. Female doctors have children. In every step of their medical career, regardless of their year in med school or in residency. So our excitement definitely outshines our fear! And I’m excited to keep you all updated about how I juggle my family and my medical career.


I hope you all had a wonderful holiday season and a happy New Year!

P.S. We recently had a gender reveal party. Click here if you want to check it out!
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August 23, 2018

One Degree Hotter

August 23, 2018 0

As a doctor, I will be saving lives. Individual lives. But what if I want to affect an entire population? What if saving a single life isn’t enough? I’ve taken a break from the hospital this year to pursue a Masters in Public Health. As a self-proclaimed social justice warrior (I know that label might have a negative connotation but I wear it proudly) and a lover of all things medicine, the decision to get a Masters in Public Health was a no-brainer. It’s frustrating how undervalued the field of Public Health is. Curative medicine is more attractive to the public than preventative medicine is. And in our individualistic (“it’s their problem, not mine”) society, people don’t realize (or choose to not realize) how much the health of their society affects them. But those in public health still find ways to change the world. It’s a thankless, but meaningful, field of medicine. I love everything I'm learning so far. My classes are addressing the problems I always talk about. But now I'm learning how to actually do something about them. So many things about our healthcare system need to be improved and I'm learning how to make a real impact. Even our first required project will transform a community (I'll write more about that later). I'm excited for what this year will bring.

After this year, I will return to the hospital with the rest of my med school classmates and graduate as a doctor with a Masters.

I have another reason for getting this second degree. All around me, I’ve seen classmates either burn out or get close to burning out. You know something they don’t tell you before you start med school? We have the highest number of suicides than any other grad school program. That includes law schools, pharmacy schools, nursing schools, and others. But it isn’t because of the coursework. We have an unspoken culture in medicine that makes us believe that asking for help is a weakness. We lose sleep, stop eating, and simply forget how to relax when we pour our hearts and souls into this field we love so much. And when we start to feel overwhelmed, instead of getting help, we look around and realize everyone else seems to have everything together.

If they can do it, I can do it.
I don't need a support team.
I don't want to be that one person who's struggling.

(Some people in my support team ^^ There's nothing wrong with asking for help)

So we, like the rest of our classmates, pretend we have it all together as well, unknowingly contributing to the problem. Instead of finding help, we continue to push ourselves even more. There is so much we have to do outside of school work. Honestly, almost every extracurricular thing is very fun and interesting to me and most other students. It's the balance we don't understand. Because everything is so interesting we give our all to every activity. Some of us forget to step back and breath. Not only is burn out a problem for students and doctors, it’s a problem for the patients. When doctors are out of it, people can die. It is dangerous to let doctors spiral into insanity. You don't want to put your life in the hands of an unstable physician. This is a culture my school, and many other schools, are trying to change.

I want to be an emergency room doctor

Did you know that emergency physicians have the highest rate of burnout than any other specialty? It doesn't have to be this way. I love the emergency department. I love the adrenaline, the blood and guts, the life or death situations. It excites me. I can't imagine doing anything else with my life. This means that I'll hold more lives in my hands than my peers in other specialties. So I need to make sure that I'm mentally fit to do that. This year I'll get to refresh my mind and learn how to impact the community. Through my MD program, I'll learn how to impact individuals. I'll be able to influence change through all layers of society. 


Thus begins my MPH year.


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August 16, 2018

Don't Kill The Patients

August 16, 2018 0

Some of you may already know this story, but I want to share it again. A few months ago, as I held a bloody heart in my hand, I lost my first patient. She was a Jane Doe, a jumper barely alive when she was brought in. She lost her pulse seconds after she was transferred to the hospital bed. I was surprised by how quick the whole team responded. As some doctors yelled for blood and another pushed epi, a couple of them immediately made a large cut to open almost the entire left side of her chest. They used a tool to push her flesh and ribs apart and took the heart right out of the cavity. One doctor handed me the woman's heart and told me to start pumping. I literally had her naked heart between my hands as I rhythmically squeezed. I blocked out the commotion and focused on my job. I only took my hands off when the doctors shocked her with something that looked like a salad tong, then I got right back to it. I could hear them in the background yelling for blood and working on keeping her alive. A few minutes later, as my hands still held her heart and pumped, they called her time of death. They were frustrated but used this experience to teach the residents. They asked, "What could we have done better?" At the very end, they showed me how to sew her up and I closed her. And naturally, I couldn't help but wonder if I killed her. "Do no harm." That's what we're taught. What if I had broken the fundamental rule doctors are supposed to follow? I had to convince myself that her death wasn't my fault. Unfortunately as a doctor, I'll have to experience these things. But the lives saved more than make up for it. Like the patient I had a while later, a man who came in with a head laceration that he got while trying to protect a stranger. Someone shaved and numbed his very bloody head and I helped staple his scalp back together. I got him warm blankets and stayed to talk to him. He told me I did a great job and right before I left that night, he prayed for me. I would have never guessed it, but he had a greater impact on my outlook of life than the first patient did.



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June 21, 2017

8 Things I Learned From Wedding Planning

Hello lovely readers! I'm back! And this time I don't plan on leaving.
If you read my last post you already know I'm soon to become a "Mrs." Yay!
Wedding Planning

 Takes you buy surprise! As exciting as the proposal is, planning such a large event can put a major damper on things. Be prepared to be slapped out of nowhere with a seemingly overwhelming list of opportunities. Ok, maybe it's not as scary as I'm making it seem, but it is pretty intimidating. So, without further adieu, I'll share with you 8 lessons I learned from wedding planning (so far)



Wedding dress shopping isn't as fun as they make it seem

If you're like me, you looooveee Say Yes To The Dress. Everyone cries when the bride-to-be finds her perfect dress and all the squabbling from earlier in the episode is squashed. But my experience wasn't exactly like that:
I went to David's Bridal (ugh yea, I know) and found three dresses I saved on Pinterest.




 Gorgeous right? I thought so too until I saw them in person. The material was cheap and the dresses were very "meh". But being the cheap frugal and spontaneous person I am, I bought one of them for only $400. It took only a day for me to realize my mistake and an exhausting amount of effort to undo it. After figuring out a way to return the dress, it hit me that this whole process might be harder than I thought. I'm very happy with the dress I have now though. Custom made, not a cookie-cutter factory dress. But that whole process definitely wasn't what I was expecting. But I have to say, finding the perfect dress brought tears to my eyes and my joy made the whole thing worth it.
Coming up with a hashtag is so hard!

 Ok this one isn't that serious but after so much time spent thinking of options, we couldn't come up with a cute wedding hashtag. Everyone suggested that we do our names and write like 2017 at the end but seriously how boring is that! When I finally asked my brother, the first thing he said was #WhereTheresAWillTheresIyawe and he laughed thinking it was the dumbest thing ever but it was actually genius. I don't know where he pulled that one from.
Prepare for the attacks on your wallet

 The amount of money it takes to pull this thing off made me seriously consider eloping. Just kidding. But our budget keeps growing and growing as time goes on. I can't overstate how expensive this has been for us.
Delegate

 As a medical student, I had no time at all to do anything. That's where my family came in. My mom and aunt are completely organizing my entire Nigerian wedding and I couldn't be more grateful. I'm a little more hands on with planning the American wedding but I'm still getting a lot of help with that too.
It's hard to stay in charge

 With all of that said, our family members tend to override our desires. We have been "compromising" (letting them have their way) with so many things. It can be extremely frustrating. This leads me to my next lesson


 It's not (just) about you

 Yea I said it. Congratulations on finding the one but keep in mind you're celebrating this moment with people who mean the world to you. Your guests matter and, regardless of how much you might want to use the phrase "it's MY day," you still have to keep them in mind. It can be tricky finding a balance between having your perfect day and making sure the people you love the most are happy. Also, don't forget about your other half! Will doesn't really care about most details of the wedding but when he does, it's important to listen to him. Some people may have fiancés who want to be more involved.


DIY is overrated

 We've all seen the beautiful pictures and videos of breathtaking DIY projects. And the most appealing part is not having to spend money on the real thing. But DIY projects have their dark secret and that is it's not always cheaper to do it yourself. Sometimes you'll spend more time (that you don't have) and money (oh, the irony). So don't jump into too many projects. Plan ahead and see what's worth investing your precious time and effort.
Don't lose sight of what's really important

 One thing I had to consistently remind myself was to enjoy the engagement. In the beginning, I was so wrapped up in wedding planning, I didn't stop and appreciate the wonderful thing that just happened. When you think of it like that, wedding planning loses its stress factor. I have found my soul mate. I get to marry my best friend. At the end of the day, for all I care, we can have a court wedding. Because the truth is, a wedding isn't nearly as important as a marriage.


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October 21, 2016

How He Asked

October 21, 2016 1

Make sure to check out our proposal video at the bottom of this post :)


Will's birthday was on Monday and to celebrate, he told me he wanted to spend the day with me at the Getty Villa. I had never been there before so I was more than excited to go. We started our day off in Westwood, where we used to live. We had a delicious breakfast in a restaurant I'd never been to (even though I lived there for 6 years) then headed out to the Getty Villa.

The Getty was gorgeous and we had an amazing time walking around and enjoying each other's company. As we were walking, I saw this beautiful archway and asked Will to take a picture with me under it. We set up the tripod to take a picture under the arch but there was no way we'd be able to get a good picture that way. So we waited on the bench for someone we could ask to take a picture of us. So many people had been walking around that we thought we wouldn't really have to wait for long to ask someone to take the picture but for whatever reason, when we sat down, it seemed like no one wanted to walk our way anymore. Finally two people, N and C, walked near us and we asked them to take our picture.


After N took the picture he asked us if we wanted more pictures in other areas and offered to take more in a place with better lighting. I was so shocked. Usually I feel like I'm bothering someone when I ask for this favor but N seemed to enjoy this. He told us he was a photographer and he would be happy to take pictures of us wherever we wanted. Will told him we were going to the East Garden and asked him to come along.

Here's a little background story:
A while back, Will came here with his friends and my brother to scout out the perfect place to propose to me. They all agreed on the East Garden. Will intended to film the proposal with our camera on the tripod (making me believe that we were taking a self-timer picture).


This picture is from the day they visited the Getty Villa to check the place out.

Anyway, we started heading to the East Garden with our new friends N and C when a guard came to tell us that tripods weren't allowed there (Will's original plan was ruined). He said we'd have to check it in but it wasn't until he left that I realized he didn't really specify where to check it in, so I chased after him to ask where and how I could check in the tripod. While I was gone, Will told N and C his plan. He asked N if he could film the proposal while pretending to take pictures of us and N agreed. I met back up with them again and we all went to the East Garden together. N did a really good job pretending to take pictures. He kept moving from one angle to another "find good lighting". Right before the proposal, N moved to yet another angle and I turned to face him, not realizing that Will didn't turn with me. I got ready to pose for another picture when I felt a tap on my lower back. And then another tap. And then another. I'm super oblivious guys. When I finally turned around, Will was on one knee holding up the gorgeous ring. He nervously whispered, "Will you marry me?" and I immediately started crying. I nodded and took the ring and when we kissed for the first time as fiancé and fiancée, the crowd of people around us cheered and applauded. It was a magical moment, straight out of a fairy tale. I can't even begin to describe how happy I am that I get to live happily ever after with my Prince Charming. Here's to the beginning of the rest of our lives!




Our proposal video



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August 30, 2016

The Beginning

August 30, 2016 1

I feel like I've been thrown into a tornado. But I like it. My life was so calm before June but it was starting to get boring. A lot has happened and is currently happening and I feel like I'm reaching all over the place trying to find a way to stabilize myself. Side note: if you're one of my YouTube subscribers, now you know why we've been MIA haha. Anyway, right after Thailand, as if to mark the next chapter in our lives, Will cut his long golden locks in favor of a more professional short haircut. Then we moved into our current apartment. I hadn't thought of this before but I when I stepped into our new place, I realized that this was a big step in my relationship. Yes, I lived with Will for years before this but it was in a co-op, in an old frat house, with like 20 other college students/recent graduates. No we have a two bedroom, two bath, two walk-in closet to ourselves.


But even though this is a huge change for me, the biggest change came when class started. Someone told me that medical school is like trying to drink water from a fire hydrant. They couldn't be more correct. It's not like the information is incredibly difficult. It's just the amount that's thrown at us. We're expected to learn so much in a very small amount of time. On top of that, since school is just starting, there are a lot of random things I have to keep track of that sometimes take me by surprise. Buying scrubs, getting a stethoscope, livescan, mask fitting, white coat, frenzied schedule, hospital ID, gloves for anatomy, downloading the software we use to take tests, etc. And I have to admit, sometimes I longingly looked back to the boring life I had just a few months ago, but then I experience things that remind me of how much I want to be here. I dissected my "first patient" and for the first time, saw the inside of a human body. I watched an open-heart surgery on a 6 month old baby as surgeons showed me the little holes in his heart that they had to cover up. I watched them wire his tiny ribs back together and I never thought I would think a baby could be so durable. It was awe-inspiring. I saw another patient today who had a huge gash in her arm from wrist to elbow but I ended up learning more about her hectic home life and saw how resilient she was to confidently navigate through situations that many would consider traumatic. Coming home to study has more meaning to me than it ever did as an undergrad. For the first time, I can really see what I'm working towards and learning, to me, has become a blessing rather than a burden. This tornado of a life is tossing me around right now but I'm starting to go with the flow and watch the pieces fall into place. Soon it'll calm down. And I'll be flying.


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May 12, 2016

The Sun

I read a Warsan Shire quote recently that said
“So here it is. I loved him, yes. But loving him made me kind of hate myself, and that wasn’t good.” and another quote that said "Loving you was the most exquisite form of self-destruction."
And I would love to say I can't relate but I’ve been destructively in love before. If love is what you call it.

The First
Was a sweet talker, like a wolf in sheep’s clothing, projected his faults into me. He made me feel like a goddess, but in a world where men were the gods, saying that society would never name me ugly, so that’s why he loved me. He was the accuser, making me hate myself because of him. As he broke our relationship by going from one girl to another, he made me feel like it was my fault. There was something wrong with me because I couldn’t give him what he wanted and he had to get it from someone else. By the time we broke up, he had turned me into a monster, waiting for the day I’d fall for another. I destroyed people like he destroyed me. I waited for the day he would be exhaled from my lungs and I could catch my breath and inhale someone else. I wanted to forget how my lips made their home in his. Forget the feeling of his breath caressing my neck. Because it was too easy to dream about him and clutch my pillow in the morning as he escaped farther and farther away with each screech of my alarm. I thought alcohol would erase my memory, pretending my life was complete with parties and Bacardi. I let the night consume me but even darkness couldn’t remove me from the grip of his memory. Because the day would come and bring the love songs that were painful reminders of his empty promises. Day would come and reveal the place where is name was engrained in me and make me relive dead memories. Even my tears reminded me of him when they caressed my cheek before abandoning me and I stuck my words to my throat because my heart tried to escape with each syllable. To others, I learned how to hide my unsteady breaths and uneven sighs. Back then, I thought love and hate were opposites but the truth is they fit together almost as well as my fingers did through his. I needed the true opposite of love, I needed indifference.

The Second
was more cunning. My destruction, like many things, happened gradually, then all at once. It was like clouds began to creep in on my sunshine so subtly I didn’t even notice. Then suddenly it was pouring and I was left wondering how I got there. Wasn’t it just sunny? He had already ripped me to shreds before I even realized he entered inside me. I tore myself apart to hold him together. I got burned just to keep him warm. And even after he left, I didn’t know I was in pieces until someone put me back together. The Second was the man boy who made me feel ugly so I could go to him to feel beautiful. He stripped me of my worth so I needed him to not feel worthless. He chose when we would have sex, even if I didn’t want it. He made me hate myself so I would rely on him to love me. He was a demon, pretending to be an angel, that needed to be exorcised from my life. When I hit my lowest low, I tried, again, to drink away my misery and wrote a poem called Drunk:

I feel every step the spirit takes
It starts at my lips, waltzes across my tongue, makes its way down my throat,
Like liquid fire, it burns everything in its path.
It spreads through my body, to my fingertips, to my toes.
Now it's overtaking my being, taking over my balance.
I fly like a spirit
For I am possessed.
I see it when my eyes are open.
I feel it when my eyes are closed.
My tongue has lost its function,
My words are chained as they escape my lips
And most of them fall to the ground before reaching ears.
Spirit almost terrifying
Yet still more welcomed
Than the horrible reality from which it takes me


But eventually I set myself free from him. The light started to come back and I didn’t truly know how low I was until I started climbing up. And I started to see the sun. His rays were blond and he made me shine. But I was broken and scared. I warned him that the fire flowing through my chest could melt his heart and I couldn’t love him the way I should, the way he loved me. Those emotions were trapped by my fear of reopening scars. I told him I was broken but he said good, light comes in through the cracks. So I guess that’s how he got in and started pulling my pieces back together from the inside. For years, he helped me put myself together. And through his love, he taught me how to love him, the right way, the real way. So I wrote this poem:

My heart was heavy but in your arms it takes refuge
Eradicating my presumptions from the day that I met you
But sometimes I slip, you allow me to clutch you
I am the moon
You are my sun
Darkness can’t touch you


With time, the pain from the First and Second slowly faded until it disappeared. Now I can bask in the sun :)

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