Doing a residency is not easy. Anyone, physician or veterinarian, can tell you that. I, somehow, lucked out to find one of the kindest residencies that exists in my specialty. Yes, I work at least 50 hours a week with patient care. Yes, I have a minimum of of 200 pages to read each week (book chapters, journal articles, conference proceedings). And yes, when you add in all the other requirements (preparing grand rounds presentations, conducting research, writing journal articles, completing benchmarks), there is a shit ton of work to do. But I still get home every day (or night) and get to see my family. I still get a chance to go out and exercise. I even can squeeze in a chapter or two of a long overdue library book which has nothing whatsoever to do with veterinary medicine or critical care. I get to play with my cat and with my foster kitten. I get to go out to a restaurant (okay, it's Denny's, which has kids eat free on Tuesdays, and we order of the 2-4-6-8 menu. I am a resident after all.) once a week.
I get to live.
And that is a fantastic, amazing, wonderful gift that I can give myself and my family. I may have made them move every year for the past 4 years, ripping them away from new friends and comfortable homes. And I feel guilty for doing this, but not too guilty.
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