First day (or not) of work

By the title of this post I'm sure that you can already guess that my first day of "work" was a bit of a bust. I shouldn’t have assumed that I (or any place I was working for) was going to get it right the first time, but there goes my naivety again. I guess I had idealized the experience because I had absolutely no idea what it would be like, so when no one handed me something on a silver plate (of course), I momentarily lost the feeling of stability that I’ve built, finally, as I’ve become accustomed to this city and people.

They had told me to arrive at 8:00am around an office – of course no one was there until about 8:30, so I spent a while wandered around the outdoor buildings looking for the doctors I had met. I finally decided to sit down and wait by the “jefe’s” office, and at about 8:45 he rolled in with his baby on his hip and gave me a “So why aren’t you ready?” look. I threw my lab coat over my jacket (it was about 25 degrees yesterday morning), and then without saying much of anything he shooed me into a room full of about 20 residents and nurses. My only introduction was a whispered “This is a biology student from the United States,” and then I was left on my own as everyone in the room eyed me cautiously and then proceeded to completely ignore me. There were several sick beds and it looked like there was a doctor making rounds as students presented the cases, but I couldn’t see the doctor or the patients, I couldn’t hear what anyone was saying, or much less understand the medical terminology in Spanish. Even if it had been in English, I think I would have been incredibly lost.

From the beginning my mind was screaming “What am I doing here…GET OUT!” – not so much in reaction to the patients, but rather to the lack of any personal contact or interest whatsoever. After about 20 minutes I decided I had had enough – I ran into the “jefe” and explained to him that I was confused, and he told me “Oh, I thought you would observe the cases and take down the ones you thought were most interesting.” Obviously there was a breakdown in communication, because I haven’t been exposed to medicine like this before, and I was really hoping for one-on-one contact with a doctor. I decided to go find the original doctor, but he was either not there or busy. At that point I was faced with a really hard decision of a) stay and be confused and unhappy but maybe find something eventually or b) get out and come back tomorrow while you think of and look at other options. Obviously I chose the latter.

Where to go from here. I would be lying if I didn’t say that right afterwards I almost asked for a plane ticket home. In all honesty I question whether I’m actually cut out to deal with this sort of work, whether I can match the analytical tendencies of my brain with something more social. I’m lacking everything that I rely on to get my by in the US – communication skills, a structured project, guidance – and here people don’t give a crap whether you have this and that award, a high GPA, or that you’re going to a great school in Chicago. (Where is that again?) I'm not sure I have the personal skills to prove my worth without all of that, nor the patience to wait things out and try over and over again when it isn’t a perfect fit.

But there’s definitely something inside of me that won’t let me give up. While I’m certainly thinking about the “investment” of flying here (the money, taking a haitus from my lab work, the nightly anxiety attacks that I'm giving to my parents), I’m also thinking "Sheesh, I’ve never done anything like this..." And I want to prove to myself that I CAN. Thus this crazy, solitary adventure that is simultaneously building me up and tearing me down.

So I guess the conclusion is (for all of you who have seen Finding Nemo) “Just keep swimming, just keep swimming…”