Popsicles and a doctorate.

After four years of medical school -- and two years of essentially paying a lot to work 60-80 hours per week -- it's over. I graduate in May, but have no more tests, no more hospital time, no more clinic visits. Last day. Completely done. And I didn't even lose my stethoscope!

There were a few close calls, prompting me to shop online for new 'scopes -- it turns out they're expensive.

I've been doing hematology and oncology for the past month -- which is incredible and difficult. The hard part is the introduction. Whenever I meet a patient for the first time I need to explain what hematology and oncology is:

"We're the blood and cancer docs"

Which means that whenever I introduce myself I have generally broken either bad news or raised the imminent possibility of bad news. It's akin to having a normal name, terrible title, like,

"Nice to meet you, I'm Ryan -- I'm the angel of death."

It has a lot of weight, enough so that I make sure I have my entire story perfectly straight before each new patient. Nonetheless I like it. Each encounter is very charged. Each time I bring bad news -- that's the most important thing I'll do that day. Keeping that in the back of my mind is a powerful organizational tool, and the rest just falls in line.

But now I'm done. I won't see another patient for nearly 3 months -- and the next time I do -- I'll be Doc. Clay. Terrifying and exciting. To celebrate my staff bought me a popsicle at the VA cafeteria -- "The Canteen."

We toasted orange deamsicles and talked about the future.