So did you know it's my birthday tomorrow? Well, it is. I'm going to be 27. Don't sing. No big plans for the evening, because I actually have to take my stupid ACLS certification class from 4pm-10pm at the hospital (10pm, for chrissake!) and then go back in the next evening to finish up the course. Then the next day I have to go in to get recertified in BLS (luckily, this should only take about half an hour, since I already completed most of the re-certification requirements online). But then I'll hopefully have fulfilled my creepy rubber mannequin quotient for the next two years.
I'm cool with turning 27. Seems like a reasonable age. A reasonable age to become a parent, a reasonable age to be someone's doctor. Or at least an age that I don't have to mumble and hide in a cough when patients ask, the way I felt I had to when I started my intern year at the age of 25. I don't have any major issues with aging. Maybe I will later, but for now, it's just not a huge deal to me. For instance, I'm not looking ahead to my 30th birthday with any sort of premonitory dread. It's just what happens the year after you turn 29. Meh. Whatever.
However, all this talk about getting older does remind me of a funny story from med school. It's actually a story from my Psych rotation, during one of the two sessions we spent on Child Psych. Guillem, Kal and I were interviewing a 7 year-old kid referred in from school for some sort of behavior problems. Given that it was our first rotation that year and we basically had no idea what we were doing, we were just chatting the kid up with no major Psych-type agenda.
So [kid], what do you want to be when you grow up?
I wanna be a teenager.
(Trying to figure out how to respond)
You want to be...a teenager when you grow up.
(Starting to laugh, attempting to hide it.)
Why do you want to be a teenager?
Because I wanna be BIG.
[Perhaps I should mention at this point that this kid was hugely fat.]
(Literally shaking with barely contained mirth.)
(Gesturing towards Guillem)
Why is that guy laughing?
Oh...he's not laughing. He's...coughing.
(Choking with laughter)
I would like to tell you that we're all much more mature and professional now, four years later, but I can't.
Currently reading: This article from New York Magazine entitled "The Perfect Little Bump." If I wasn't already scared of freaky New York parents (read: mothers) before I read this article, I am now. Everything's a competition. Also poring through the replies in response to my Costco query. Thanks for all the responses, guys! I think we're going to check out both a Costco and a BJ's (heh, I said "BJ") in Queens this weekend, and then make a decision based on our reconnaissance mission whether or not we're going to join one or the other.