July 1.

To most Americans the first of July is not a significant date. It is three days later on the fourth that gets all the fanfare (for good reason). But to those of us in the world of medicine today - July 1st - is a big deal. It's the medical new year. And this year it is especially significant for our family. Because today Joe started his first shift as a resident physician. An intern. 

He's four hours into this doctor gig. Another eight to go before his day in the MICU is scheduled to end. But who's counting? Oh. Yeah. Me. That's who. I'm not sure why though. Because if there's one thing I've learned in the past four years, it's this..."shifts" and "schedules" mean very little. Something always comes up and the hours always grow longer. 

(But that's not really what I wanted to write about today.)

I have mixed emotions about today. It's obviously very exciting! The beginning of a great new chapter of our life. It's what we have been working towards for years. Literally. But at the same time I didn't want today to come. Because now it begins. The 80 hour work weeks. The overworked and tired doctor husband. Me and all the kids at home filling seemingly endless hours without him. The past two weeks of orientation have been great. Sure Joe has been at the hospital during the day. But the evenings have been filled with grill outs and beach parties and an outdoor concert. Lots of swimming, eating and socializing. Getting to know the other residents and their families. Today it seems the party ends and reality begins. 

So while exciting, it kinda feels like a sad day. Even the weather is sad. Down pouring for hours.