Uf Widerluege

The phone rang non-stop last night. At one point, three uninterrupted stroke and reanimation alarms coming through at once made it impossible for us to get their respective triage informations from the emergency department. For the millionth time, after almost 12 hours and getting into bed no earlier than midnight, I was exhausted. But despite everything, last night's late shift felt different… because I knew it was going to be my last.

After my goodbye round today, filled with smiles, warm hugs and kind words from colleagues and MTRAs alike, I feel thankful and hopeful, but also relieved. Disillusionment doesn't come from workload alone. It happens due to a lack of control, recognition, and fairness. It occurs when scrutinized, disregarded, misled, or expected to systematically act against one's own principles and better judgment—and from being punished for attempting not to. Over time, accepting these dynamics in the professional realm comes at the risk of losing one's peace, sense of direction, and sense of self in the personal one.

These past few years have been of maturation. They have been painfully eye-opening and saddening in some ways, but also an opportunity to reaffirm values and convictions, challenge detrimental beliefs, and solidify my core. Ironically, for such a fundamentally selfless profession, there is definitely too much ego in medicine. And it's well-known that a significant number of people in leadership positions have a good amount of specific maladaptive personality traits in common. Combine that with questionable profit-driven institutional priorities, and you'll create moral decadence. Not losing sight of one's own values and goals becomes increasingly difficult in such an environment. And even though maintaining a sense of self might require challenging the status quo, creating friction, or even taking a leap of faith into the unknown, I continue to find it crucial.

Thankfully, I can say I am proud of my progress and accomplishments during this time. I am proud of the impact my sleepless nights and tears have hopefully had on my patients. And especially, I am proud that I continue to derive the most genuine pleasure from their thankfulness and appreciation at being treated with deference, dignity, and warmth over anything else.

And I am also hopeful—thanks to the beautiful souls I have met on this journey. Those who uphold their principles. Those who continue to feel appalled and indignant at what's wrong, with consistency, conviction and unwavering integrity. Without cynical justification, rationalization, or acceptance of the status quo. Those who, by refusing to become intimidated by darkness, shine a light on everything that's dishonest, broken, and corrupt, fueling my own determination, values, and vision. The perceptive, patient, sensitive ones with self-respect and confidence who see beyond the surface of situations and people, including my own, in all the right, supportive ways.

And lastly, I am a bit daunted. My upcoming more senior role somewhere new and wholesome carries more responsibility tied to higher expectations. Such an opportunity, though no doubt an exciting upgrade, intimidates me in that particular way that past negative experiences tend to exacerbate. Still, I can feel a sense of resilience taking over and allowing my bubbly self to resurface, and that, I also feel relieved and confident about.

Von Basel nach Zürich

I woke up excited, as I was finally going to attempt biking all the way to Zurich today. Still not sure about being able to properly fix a puncture, but not really caring. My philosophy is that experiencing a puncture in Switzerland is probably safer than driving a car in Italy including seatbelt and full-face helmet. And so, speaking of bursting, I stuffed myself with oats, peanut butter, and berries, filled my water bottle and put on my special bike earrings and covered my limbs with sunscreen. With my Garmin route all set, I carried my bike down all four floors to a post-apocalyptically deserted street —there's nothing like cycling on a Sunday.

The real fun started past Laufenburg. I’ve found that biking east, it takes about two whole hours to leave the fugly industrial flair of Basel’s periphery, and step into more scenic landscapes.
But then, the climb past Fricktal caught me off guard (not really, since Garmin did warn me over and over and over. More in an emotional sense). With an 800m ascent at up to 13° steepness, I missed the feeling of going uphill with cleats, but not enough to risk another extracurricular visit to the Unispital. Once I reached the top of the hill, I stopped briefly, with a light tinnitus in my ears and an unsettling brightness before my eyes. Switzerland might be safe when it comes to punctures, but I don’t know about passing out alone in the middle of the road at 178 bpm. Still, we all know what will happen. Just like with a tough birth, I will forget the pain soon enough and repeat the experience before one can say "Bewusstlosigkeit".

Following the GPS, I managed to complete the 94km route in under five hours moving time. Past Laufenburg, it was pleasant enough, but I couldn’t help remembering last week’s kayaking near Interlaken, or my recent visit to Lake Léman. Despite my self-diagnosed fissural cartilage damage in the lateral face of my borderline lateralized left patella due to my 5am 10k morning runs in the winter (obviously too proud to feel as dumb as I should), I am excited and motivated to look for newer routes near water, possibly, or even ideally, in places I’ve never been before.

The hour-long ICE ride back felt like a lullaby embracing my tired, soon to be stiff body, which I struggled to keep awake. Only the fear of ending up in Hamburg when I'm actually expected at the geriatric hospital at 8 am sharp tomorrow morning, combined with the music in my ears, kept me awake (as a side note, I still don’t know what it is about me and country music. It moves me so deeply, yet I don’t own a truck, I don’t drink beer, and I have never seen the night sky in Alabama).

Anyways. Another successful new biking milestone completed, and another challenge I have proven myself capable of conquering without becoming (fully) unconscious.

Lokrum Island

I could write a long post about why my hike on Lokrum Island made my heart burst with joy and wonder, but since a picture is worth a thousand words, I made a video instead.