I am not sure how to put the past few months into words. I have known stress before. I have known exhaustion and uncertainty. But the work-related kind had never been intense enough to have such a perceptible physiological impact, disrupting my sleep, inducing recurrent nightmares, and playing unprecedented havoc with my hormonal balance. Despite it all, as prone to catastrophic or negative thinking as I might be under stress, there is a part of me—call it of divine inclincations if you like—that somehow always "knows" things will "get better."
With a tendency towards introspection—self-reflection at its best, but self-doubt at its worst—it has been incredibly challenging to filter out the insecurity-based distortive noise clouding my mind during this time. How much of it is intrinsic, how much contextual, and how much just plain inaccurate and/or unjustified? This quest for the truth of matters is still challenging, but at least now I can count with the valuable tool of a new beginning and a different setting as a means to distill feedback by generating contrast. I still battle with a certain (probably needless) sense of guilt and betrayal, as an automatic reaction to my somewhat counterintuitive deliberate efforts to "be selfish" while aiming for self-preservation.
Still, overall, the sun does shine—both metaphorically and literally. After a rather tame beginning to a very wet summer, the weather has improved somewhat parallel to my mood. Taking the initiative to escape a demoralizing situation through unprecedented alternatives has a positive impact in many ways and has helped me bypass the initial constrictive mindset of learned helplessness. Additionally, there is something exciting about the secretive handling these defensive actions demand, as well as the built-up pleasure of presenting a resignation under given circumstances.
And in the midst of it all, or rather at the end, as if wanting to prove my point, my wonderful experience in Geneva elevated my spirits even more. In contrast to what I remembered from 2022, this year’s SCR did deliver some really good lectures. I would be lying if I said I paid consistent attention throughout, but labeling the event as completely dull would also be untruthful. In a context other than our usual clinical setting, with a bit more time to mingle, share meals, and chat, I am aware of the depth of my appreciation towards my colleagues, some of whom I can call friends. But above all, I loved my free time with B, enjoying the duality of his soothing quiet introversion and stimulating conversational outbursts, completing our 20,000-step challenge, walking by the lake, devouring pistachio ice cream and mochis, exploring the old town, stuffing our faces with overpriced cinema popcorn while watching “Inside Out 2,” and immersing ourselves in the puzzling kingdom of Astronomy and Quantum Physics, learning about Dark Matter and Antimatter, and playing quantum tennis at the exciting CERN. This offered one of those rare but much-appreciated opportunities to rejoice in the mysterious wonder of existence itself.
A similar feeling was induced by the astonishing never-ending sunset over Lake Leman in picturesque Vevey. Close to the summer solstice, with the sun still present past 10 pm, watching the sky colors change for what felt like an eternity, twice as bright, twice as beautiful thanks to the reflection on the water, melted my heart with that deep sense of wonder that only nature can invoke. This whole afternoon felt surreal, really. Arriving at the small French-speaking location with B, test-sampling the lake’s shore for a short stroll, calibrating for our upcoming walk to Montreux, pushing our way through surprisingly numerous loud Portugal fans celebrating their victory against Turkey with waving flags, claxons, even fireworks shot out of car windows, and granting B’s McDonald’s dinner wish by pretending to have it as my own, culminating with a front-row seat by the lake, enjoying our greasy treat to a beautiful rainbow.
And that is how one of the worst professional chapters is compensated by one of the best in the personal realm. That is how everything that happens outside the Monday to Friday, 8:00 am to 6:00 pm range, which shines brighter than those Portuguese fireworks or even the solstice sun setting over Lake Leman, makes it impossible for darkness to take over my mind and heart, no matter what happens inside hospital walls.
