tablou in sepia 2

Aseara m-am uitat pe google maps ca sa vad unde este inchisoarea. Stiam ca este aproape dar nu ma asteptam sa fie doar la 5 minute, cu masina.
Am studiat cartea tehnica a masinii ca sa imi dau seama cum sa imi reprogramez ceasul si radio-ul de pe bord. Sper sa reusesc maine. E asa ca un semn, nu? Daca iti incepi bine ziua o continui tot asa! Sper sa reusesc maine sa setez corect ora si radio-ul. Da, sunt superstitioasa, ca noi toti de altfel. Stim ca o zi care incepe prost nu se termina neaparat mai bine, pentru ca uneori chiar nu depinde numai de noi.

 Bun, deci ce zic maine? In primul rand trebuie sa nu uit sa stau dreapta, sa privesc in ochii, sa zambesc si sa vorbesc clar, in fraze concise. Nimanui nu ii place risipa de cuvinte. Eu, cel putin, nu o suport. Poti sa povestesti cu sens, asa cum poti bate campii fara gratie, in aceleasi 20-30 de minute. It's up to us. Apoi spun ca sunt foarte motivata (ca si restul candidatilor...), ca sunt foarte riguroasa si meticuloasa, ca am o infinita rabdare (cu pacientii doar dar asta nu o sa adaug), ca sunt umanista ("mesianica", nu-i asa cat bitch?), ca invat repede, ca am facut un an de adictologie si sunt pasionata de psihiatrie (ca fac un DU de TCC si dependente), ca am un program flexibil (si aici toate colegele cu copii pierd teren..., mda : viata ca o prada), ca vorbesc limbi straine, ca imi doresc enorm sa am ocazia sa evoluez intr-un mediu penitenciar (da, stiu, e cam sforaitor, dar e adevarat).

 Si ca sunt cam disperata pentru ca mi-am pus toate sperantele in job-ul asta si ca , the usual, nu am un plan B. Inchisoarea este unicul meu plan.

Oare ce e in mintea oamenilor care aleg candidatul perfect? Ce cauta? Toti avem cam acelasi cursus post-universitar (rezidentiatul). Daca ei cauta numai doctori cu experienta nu as fi tercut de primul interviu. Deci, am o sansa reala. It's up to me. Pot sa o aud pe F. cum doarme langa mine. Ma linisteste si nelinisteste in acelasi timp respiratia ei. Demult nu mai dorm cu storurile strase, imi place sa ma trezeasca lumina zorilor. E luna plina afara, vad cum se reflecta timid luna, vad stelele mele din fosfor cum stralucesc puternice, in intuneric, in constelatii imaginate de mine. Asa ca de ce sa ma aleaga pe mine?

Adevarul este ca, la naiba, nu stiu sa va zic exact de ce sa ma alegeti pe mine. Sunt doar un om cu defecte si calitati, la fel ca toti ceilalti. Dar simt si vreau atat de mult! Simt ca trebuie sa am job-ul asta, ca asta e menirea mea! So fucking pick me and you will not regret! I will be the best prison doctor that you ever had! No bullshit here!


Doamne ajuta-ma! E curios cum devenim (mai) credinciosi cand avem nevoie de ceva. E greu sa ai constant acelasi nivel de credinta. All in all suntem o specie cam nerecunoascatoare. Sau poate ca doar eu sunt asa, poate ca altii sunt mai echilibrati.


Ceasul, ceasul, ceasul! OMG! I freak out, e ziua J!
Cu ce ma imbrac? Rochie sau pantaloni? Hmmm, e inchisoare deci pantaloni sa fie! Tocurile, bluza neagra rock. Machiajul. Parfumul. Zbor pe scari sau mai degraba ma scurg, lichefiata, pana in garaj. Pornesc masina, incerc sa reglez ora si radio-ul. Victorie! Incepe bine, hai nu te entuziasma, zen. Ok, la capatul strazii stanga la semfor, apoi urmez tramvaiul, dreapta, alt semafor, a2a la stanga. Am ajuns!? Oau, 5 minute crono ci masina. Am 20 de minute de avans. Nu-i nimic, pana gasesc exact intrarea si ajung unde trebuie, numai bine. Stau cu mainile inmanusate inclestate pe volan si ma uit la zidul imens de langa parcare, cu multe valuri de sarma ghimpata in varf.


Trec de usa galbena, intreb 2 june daca pe acolo e drumul spre dna CADRU ( nu este o gluma, cadra este sefa infirmierelor si, lucru stiut de orice novice mai putin de mine in primul stagiu ca si rezidenta, sefa SPITALULUI indirect...who runs this world? CADRA! who runs this mother fucking world? CADRA! asta ar trebui sa ne invete in ultimul an de medicina nu alte bullshituri). Mi-au zis ca am gresit usa. Fuck erau 2 usi galbene. No si cum ieseam eu cu coada intre picioare imi zic ca daca as fi fumat acum as fi tras una. Dar eu nu fumez asa ca imping celalta usa galbena unde ma intampina 2 gorile la un vorbitor. Imi cer buletinul si telefoanele si apoi ma trimit printr-o poarta ca la aeroport (unde lasi geanta, te dezbraci, exact exact ca la aeroport numai ca destinatia e inchisoarea; da, nu foarte glamour stiu). Si incep nene sa inaintez, trecand de usi care se inchideau automat in spatele meu. Una, doua, trei...do I really wanna work here? Erau asa niste coridoare cu vopsea veche, scorojita, cu panze de paianjen pe tavan. It makes you wonder! Dar mai ales zgomotul usilor care se inchideau dupa mine, una cate una, ca si cum m-ar fi separat de restul lumii si ar fi demarcat intrarea in teritoriul "celor despre care nu vorbim".


Va urma!

Medicina generala sau viata ca o prada

"Mais Madalina, ca c'est comme un monument! Ca se visite!"

Era vorba despre o pacienta de 115 ani!!!

The truth is that I am lost! Completely lost! After 9 years I thought that I will finally get to do what I always dreamed to do : Addictology, but in the end things aren't working on exactly as I planned. But I have hope. Because I know that things happen for a reason and I know that someday the pieces of the puzzle will fall down in their right places. Because people aren't able to imagine what a war Med School is, it's impossible for a non-doctor to know. We are suffering a psychological torture during many years. We learn to run before we walk! You have to be though, you have to sometimes walk on bodies in order to get what is yours. For instance nobody imagines how we are treated like a sub-human-race during a lot of our surgical or medical stages. You don't have a name, you're "it", "number zero". You don't sleep, you eat when you can and what you can, you do sometimes everything except medicine. And it's hard as hell to hear from the one who should be your teachers, your role-models : "You're stupid/useless/a disgrace for the medical world, you'll never be a good Dr. In fact, you'll never be a Dr. 'cause you'll never pass my exam!". It happened to my mates, it happened to all of us; medical students. And not just once. Many people will trough in your face the classical phrase : "Don't complain, it's you who have decided to choose this path!". True, but no one can prepare you for what follows. And the internship it's long and we are still underrated, we are not looked as physicians/doctors, we're just "the real doctors mignons". We are trained to work as slaves, fetch food and coffee, and if possible think but always present your idea as your bosses idea. Gratifying isn't it? You learned 6 years to be the "doctors pet". Life in plastic is fantastic. And don't get me start of some patients! (just some, luckily not lots of them). It goes something like THIS.

So you learn what and how you can. And try to get the best out of it!

After 9 years I still don't know what I'll do, exactly. I know what I want to do but I am still not sure how I will get it. And a very old dream rises again : Medicina fara frontiere!

























DON'T TURN YOUR BACK ON ME, I WON'T BE IGNORED!!!

But one thing is cristal clear : what lucky were we to grow up with this amazing music. When rock was still rock! And music was not shit and not porn! Take everything from the inside and trough it all away, 'cause I swear for the last time, I won't trust myself again with you. I WON'T WASTE MYSELF ON YOU!
Anger is good sometimes, it can clear your mind and your guts. And babies, drooling and laughing babies, this also helps, they can take you to a happier place. And dogs, dogs always work!







I know the album "Hybrid theory" by heart, the best LP album.
I also know "Korn", "Life is peachy" and "Follow the leader" by Korn, by heart. That was music.




















And it appears clear to me now that I was never born to do medecine for the rich and ungrateful. I have a mission to help the weak ones. You know that I know that I am no Messia but I will do my best to help the one in need. 'cause I know that a friend in need is a friend in deed. Once I took the HIPPOCRATE OATH and I do not intend to break it. Not for you my rich, fat, ungrateful piece of garbage. Although in the end your ignorance is bliss. People are dying of starvation and you complain that you have to pay 2 euros for a fucking pommade??? When you never worked your entire life, you were just "pretty" besides you're successful husband? As I said ignorance is bliss but I will not be part of your game! And you loose a very good doctor, just so you know!














So humanitarian medicine and addictology here I come!!!

In Martinica cu o doamna comercianta localnica. May the colors be back!!!