Friday, December 14, 2007

behold, the internet is useful!

Thank you all so much for you comments and e-mails (and Facebook messages!) regarding our impending move to Atlanta. You have no idea how much your insights help. Probably the only thing more difficult than planning a wedding from afar is trying to get Cal into a school, find a job, and figure out a place to live from afar. Maybe I could deploy some wireless robot to meet with realtors and interview with anesthesia groups and preschool teachers in my stead in Atlanta while I work the remote controls from up here. But with my luck, the robot would becomes sentient and turn evil, and then I'd really be starting things off on the wrong foot.

Anyway, I have to spend some time this weekend getting together a list of contacts and sending off my CV. Ideally, because of Joe's call situation (he will be holding the Oculoplastics call pager every day for two years straight--it is home call, and hopefully he won't get called in that often, but man, I've taken home call before, and that pager is like a noose around your neck) I will not be looking for a "partnership track" job. Doesn't really make much sense, given that we won't be there for the long-term anyway, and really what I would love, if I could find a position like this, is a "day player" anesthesia job. You know, more of a Monday through Friday, no call, no nights, no weekends or holidays kind of thing. Seems reasonable to expect there will be jobs like that out there, since a lot of anesthesiologists want to take call and do overtime because there are substantial financial incentives to working those extra hours. Anyway, we'll have to see what's out there. 

It occurs to me that this just may be the first "real" job I've applied to in my entire life--you know, a job that's not volunteer work, not part of some academic obligation, a research grant, a summer fellowship, stuff like that. My first real job. I AM ALMOST 30 YEARS OLD. Talk about delayed.

Anyway, there have to be plenty of patients who need anesthesia in Atlanta. And I am more than ready to provide it. So, no more drinking whisky and biting on a stick before getting your leg sawed off.* It's time for the good stuff.

(*I think it may be prudent to add here that this is simply a reference to the Atlanta civil war scenes in "Gone With the Wind," not some preconceived notion on my part that the South is somehow backwater. And I'm sure if you bite on sticks for anesthesia, they're very nice sticks, made from the wood of peach trees, whittled and trimmed by beautiful maidens. OK then, as you were.)