I’m a newly minted doctor, just a few months out of medical school now and at the beginning of my residency training. I’m also somewhat new at being a slut — your typical unfortunate combination of growing up in a strict religious family, being a late bloomer, having always been the reserved wallflower, and not figuring out the right makeup and right clothes until halfway through college. In June, I moved to a new city for residency training that was a thousand miles away from my family and friends, fresh out of a serious, long-term relationship and in need of any distraction from a broken heart.
Luckily — or maybe unluckily? — being a resident means there are plenty of distractions, and I’m not just talking about the physical therapist eye candy that you pass by in the halls. It’s more like an 80-hour work week distraction, a really hellish call day distraction, getting hammer-paged by the nurses because you fucked up the insulin order or the patient doesn’t have the right diet order or do you want a lactate because the sepsis protocol just fired kind of distraction. But I’ve been missing the good kind of distractions, and with my schedule, it hasn’t been easy finding someone worth my limited amount of free time — until recently.