may I have the envelope, please?

On Saint Patrick's Day 2011 Simon, Simon's dad, Julia, in utero Sebastian, and I joined Simon's med school class for a big Match Day ceremony in Wichita. Each student drew a number and one by one walked down the auditorium steps to open and read their match results to their classmates and families. Some people were ecstatic with their news while others were visibly stunned and a little bit upset because their envelope hadn't contained the program they'd been hoping for. The whole thing seems a little bit cruel to me but last I checked my musty resume didn't say a thing about experience as Match Day Master of Ceremonies so I'll just keep my commoner mouth shut for now. Simon drew a high number and we had to wait for quite a bit while wrestling baby J and I chewed on my cuticles because nervous habits die hard. When he finally walked down and read, "St. Louis!" I smiled and breathed a huge sigh of relief because that had been our first choice and we were really hoping the hospital had agreed. Then we all went out for Greek food and eventually went home to start scouring the internet for houses since we had three and a half months before Simon started his intern year of residency.

Fast forward three years, three months, and one day to yesterday. I scrambled all morning to get the kids ready, time Theo's morning nap and Phoebe's feedings appropriately, and get myself showered and dressed. We met Simon a little after 11 while he had a window of time between patients in clinic.

He held the big kids' hands while I pushed the smaller Pattons in the stroller through the labrynth that is the hospital basement hallways. We met Simon's program directors in between their surgeries in a little tiny room around the corner from the operating rooms equipped with a computer, a few stools, some surgical instruments and a bowl full of speculums (why?!). The stroller barely fit and the big kids were shy and confused as to why we weren't dining on cafeteria fries - the usual purpose of our visits to see Dad.

Simon logged onto the computer, pulled up his results and happily exclaimed, "Florida!!" while I smiled and breathed a sigh of relief because that had been our first choice for fellowship.

Simon's boss taking a photo of the results while Simon gets his permagrin on.

The kids were thrilled ...

especially Theo's leg.

And side note: if anyone wants to sneak in and steal that pink plastic collar Julia insists on wearing EVERYWHERE ... I'd be infatuated with you forever. 

We hired a sitter for later that night and went out to celebrate Simon's feat ...

drunk.







just kidding.

Good day! I'm so proud of Simon. It was always a possibility that he wouldn't match because there are plenty of people that don't. Anyway, let me continue my dramatic retelling of the events with a little bit of a lengthy metaphor. Thank you. Your generosity is the bomb.

Let's say that residency is a marathon because it is. Yesterday felt like some kind soul threw us a monster blue Gatorade to get us through the remainder of the race. Well, that's a little trite, Grace. I know! It is. It's awful but it's true. These last three years have been a lot more trying than the Grace on Match Day 2011 had ever ever anticipated and to see that there is a big fat sunny light at the end of the four year hell tunnel was downright marvelous. Simon's hours will be SO much better, I have some good friends already living in Tampa, and Simon's hours will be SO much better.

One more year to go. And in the mean time we'll be little engining our way through fourth year because we think we can, we think we can. And we will.

I hope.

And look out, Tampa. In July of 2015 the Pattons are coming for you. Get excited because we most certainly are!

:)