A physician’s return to the ivory tower
I started internship July 1, 2008, as a terrified 25-year-old blank slate. Most days started with a combination of nausea and dread as I pumped myself up in the resident parking lot — conveniently located a mere 1/2 mile from the entrance to the ivory tower I called home.
The days were long. The nights were longer. Every month I had the chance to be a brand new idiot as a …