Choose Love

Just the mere thought of board exams still makes me shudder. I’m sure I am not alone. This is my story, I hope that it helps you get through this time when it is applicable or that you can relate because you have already been through it. As a spouse in this type of career lifestyle, I commend all of you for serving your families and enabling your spouses to complete a training path millions of people dream of. We are all strong, confident and independent individuals that are up for any challenge.

My husband started studying heavily for boards about six months prior to taking the exams. If I knew what I know now, I would have prepared myself better for it mentally. Our whole entire life changed the moment he committed to a study schedule. This meant that everything we used to do together, I had to do alone (e.g., food shopping, exercising, watching TV, cleaning the apartment, taking cars for maintenance, etc.). We do not have children, yet, so my home responsibilities were not terrible. What made it the most stressful was the emotional support I didn’t receive from my husband during that time. It was almost as though he had to become a robot to get through it all.

In his specialty, he had to prepare for two board exams that were very different from one another. He said that residency did not prepare him entirely for the tests, and it was up to him to read thousands of pages of information and well as review study materials in his spare time. His schedule was vigorous to say the least. For example, we were both up at 5:30 am; he was at work by 7:00 am for lecture prior to his residency assignment. He worked a full day and then would come home at around 5:00 pm. He would study until dinner was ready, have dinner and go back to studying until 9:30 pm. We would have about a half hour of wind down time before, going to bed to wake up and do it all over again. During this time, I had a busy career myself. I was an Office Administrator for a mid-size law firm. Often, my husband would leave later than me for work and come home before I did. As boards neared our schedule did not get any easier, it only got tighter. My husband battled a large bout of depression while trying to infiltrate the almost impossible job market. Someone said on the Doctor’s Wives’ Facebook group recently, "being married to a doctor is hard; but, being married to an unhappy doctor, is unbearable". I have to agree. It was extremely tough to see him that depressed. Especially, since I gave my all to help him with his job search. I contacted recruiters, filled out applications, created online profiles, filled out fellowship applications, etc.

My husband received his only job interview offer (after 9 months of looking for an attending job) in February and within one day we had a contract on a house and a contract for employment. All of the logistics for the move and purchasing our first home were my responsibility. The wind down time that we had in the evenings, turned into discussions about what paperwork was needed by the realtor, if we had enough money for the closing, etc. My nights were busy with cleaning our apartment and keeping our 70 pound golden retriever happy and quiet with frequent walks (we did not have a yard).

As Easter neared, I asked my husband if we could visit my family, and he said only if I drove 9 hours each way while he studied in the car. I did what he said and was extremely happy that I got to see my family. He had the same rule when we traveled to see his family. I had to drive both ways and he would study the entire time. We would travel often 3 hours each way in complete silence.

Just as soon as we got used to this schedule, I realized that when I would look in the mirror something didn’t quite look right on the lower part of my neck. I brought it up to my mother-in-law while she was visiting, and she said to show it to my husband. He looked at it and said "that looks large". I wasn’t sure what that meant, but I knew I needed to get it looked at. It turned out that my thyroid was encompassed by a very large tumor (non-cancerous) and I had to have immediate surgery because it was effecting my swallowing. When my surgery was scheduled my husband’s concern was not for my recovery, but for his board exam study schedule. He stated that I needed to figure out who could take care of the dog, because he could not with his schedule. I preface, by saying I was not able to walk the dog for two weeks following my surgery (I had 20+ stitches). The surgery was an overnight stay at the hospital and I was told by my husband that he would pick me up when I was released from the hospital. When he said those words, they cut right through me. I could not believe that he was the same person I had married three years prior. I didn’t yell at him, I didn’t give him an attitude; I didn’t have a reaction at all. I just stayed quiet and soldiered on. I contacted my parents and I asked if they could come and help while I recovered from surgery. They were more than willing to come. I was cautious about what I told them because I didn’t want them to hold a grudge against him; however, I made it known that my husband could not help due to his study schedule.

We closed remotely on our house on a Friday and I went in for a partial thyroidectomy two days later. In the end, my husband ended up going with me to the hospital; he studied in the waiting room and stayed with me that night in the hospital. When I returned home, he picked up my prescriptions and that was the last I saw of him. My parents helped prepare meals, take care of the dog and cat and clean our apartment. Once my family left, he called his mom and asked her to come and help. My mother-in-law had to wash my hair for me in the sink, because I could not get the front of my neck wet and make sure I didn’t lift anything heavy during my recovery. She was also there to walk the dog. As mentioned, my husband could not do it based on his study schedule. Three days after my surgery, I attended his residency graduation meeting proudly displaying my stitches; there was no way I would have missed that day.

One week after my surgery, I had my stitches removed and I was released to go back to work and accompany my husband on his out-of-town trip for his board exams. I was happy that I could fly with him and be there for him during his two day exam. I worked remotely for my job and was there for him after each long day of exams. He ended up passing both board exams and we moved at the end of June into our #itgetsbetter home.

The moral if this story is, choose love. Throughout all that we went through during board exam season, I made the conscious choice to choose love. I didn’t start blow out fights, I didn’t hold a grudge, I just kept moving forward. Prior to my surgery, I went to a Yoga class offered at my local gym, read a lot of books, walked and ran three days a week. Those activities helped keep my sanity. Make sure you have an outlet for your frustrations during board time. Do not expect emotional support from your spouse. You will have to find peace within yourself and support from your close network.

One last thing, prior to board season, I never knew what it felt like to be at home with my husband and still miss him! It was the weirdest feeling, because he was always behind the second bedroom door studying. Further, don’t expect your family members to understand what you are going through, just make sure they listen to your concerns and help where they can. In closing, the best thing my husband has ever "said" to me was written in my birthday card this past year. It said, "I would not be where I am in my life, if it were not for your help". That comment made everything we went through, worth it. Stay strong, you’ve got this!

- Anonymous

Making friends: Where there is one, there are many

I’ve always been envious of natural networkers. Extroverts. People totally in their element walking up to strangers, shaking hands and striking up a conversation out of thin air.

Me? I’m an introvert and struggle with social anxiety, so making friends when residency brought us to a small town where everyone seemed to know each other was a challenge.

I was basically friendless for almost a year. When my husband was at work late on weekend nights, he would text me to ask what I was doing.

My responses didn’t vary much from week to week.

"Watching Netflix."

"Reading."

"Petting the cats."

He would encourage me to join some of the other residents who were off work that night and going out to dinner. As if I would ever do that.

Even though my job and a volunteer opportunity doing marketing for the local pet shelter took up most of my time, I still hadn’t met anyone I could call up to hang out with on the weekend when my husband was busy working.

That year was lonely, but eventually I made friends. How?

I made one friend at first. Just one.

My co-worker encouraged me to attend a networking event of local young professionals, which I did. I had a death grip on my water glass and made awkward conversation with the few people I had met in the nine months we’d been living in our new town.

Then one dear, sweet girl – one of those extroverts, and the wife of a resident in a different program – approached me. She started chatting away and even invited me to go out for drinks with a group of her friend. As nervous as that made me, I agreed to go.

This continued for a few months – she would invite me to another event or send me a Facebook message asking if I would like to come with her and her friends hiking, volunteering or to a concert. I went each time even though I was mentally coming up with excuses to say no.

To my surprise, her friends accepted me, and before I knew it, I had more than one friend.

I was going to book clubs, girls’ movie nights and concerts in the park. I was laughing and smiling more. Now, when my husband texts me asking what’s on Netflix when he’s at work late, I’m not always home. Sometimes I’m actually out having dinner with friends that I made myself.

We’re approaching the end of residency, and I’ll be sad to leave these friends. I don’t know if I’ve made lifelong friendships, but I’m grateful I met the people I did and for the girl who took me under her wing.

I hope I will have the opportunity to do that for someone else.

~ Marisa Z.

Survivor Stories: A Different Kind of Survival

Learning about someone's background often helps us know more about who that person is today.  Questions about my husband's background usually begin when someone is intrigued, befuddled, or overwhelmed by his last name:  Phommachanh.  It's really quite simple once you get the hang of it.  "Po" (like the panda); "ma" (like pa's wife); "ch" (as in chair); "ahhn" (just like it looks).  Anyhow, those 11 letters only begin to tell V's somewhat unique story, and how he came to have that name embroidered on a long white coat with the letters "MD" after them.

Once people ask about his last name, I'll add that V is originally from Laos.  Sometimes, people say, "wow, really?", and sometimes they look a little lost, as if they're hoping I'll remind them exactly where Laos is.  Just to make sure we're all on the same page, Laos is in Southeast Asia, and it's the landlocked country nestled among Thailand, Vietnam, and Cambodia.

Even if most people know where Laos is, many don't know its role in the Vietnam war.  Without getting deep into international politics,  I'll just supply this fact:  from 1964 to 1973, the U.S. dropped the equivalent of "a planeload of bombs every 8 minutes, 24-hours a day, for 9 years--making Laos the most heavily bombed country per capita in history."  If you type in "Laos most heavily bombed..." in your search engine, you can learn more.  Following this catastrophic season, Laos was in chaos and was under Communist rule.

Let's get to where my husband fits in to this story.  Born in 1977 to a humble Lao farmer and his wife, whose family was more urban and more highly educated, V was born in his family's home in the capital city of Vientiane.  His birth certificate is a piece of paper that records the date, but not the time, or length/weight of the baby.  His grandfather signed it to make it official.

By the time V was about 2, his parents and some other family members from his mom's side had made the decision to leave Laos, with the ultimate goal being America.  Because of the politics at the time, leaving had to be secretive.  They purchased passage on a small boat that would cross the Mekong River at night, into Thailand.  Little V stayed quiet, and they crossed safely.  I get goosebumps every time my mother-in-law tells this story, and I've known V for 15 years!

Once in Thailand, V and his family lived in a refugee camp for 18 months.  At one point, a fire ravaged the camp, leaving the meager accomodations in shambles.  V's uncle sent us a picture of the camp after the fire, and it stops me in my tracks.  I look around at our new, large, beautiful home, and think of our own little ones...and then remember just where my husband started his life.  It's some serious perspective.

Christian missionaries helped V's family leave Thailand and settle in Massachusetts.  Southeast Asians in Massachusetts doesn't make a lot of sense to me, but it was a step in the right direction, to be sure.  The family learned English as my father-in-law studied to become a machinist and my mother-in-law worked in various factories.  They shared a home with V's aunts and uncles and cousins.  There wasn't a lot of personal space, I'm sure.

This story is getting perhaps too long already, so I'll fast forward.  V's family moved to St. Petersburg, FL, in 1985, after V's sister was born.  They are still there today.  V's dad owns and operates a small machine shop.  V's mom helps take care of our niece while her parents (V's sister and her husband) work.  They are all doing well.

My husband obviously excelled in school, and knew medicine was calling him, by his teen years.  I think I'll have to write "chapter two" about his path into being a doctor, if there is interest in more of his story. I am still amazed at how our paths came together.  V's family truly could--and still can--"do hard things"!


I am a stay-at-home mom in the Bradenton-Sarasota area of Florida, though with our son in 5th grade and our daughter in pre-K, I do more driving around than staying at home.  My husband is in his 5th year of private practice as an ENT physician.  We like to play outside and host family and friends in our free time.  V and I got married 13 years ago, right before he started medical school.  We like to think we've not just survived, but we have thrived!