Relationship hypochondria

Despite the fact that I'm supposed to be on early deadline to prepare for two of the biggest issues of my paper for the entire year, I've found myself trolling websites out of sheer boredom while waiting for inspiration to strike. In doing so I stumbled on a blog community all about being a doctor's wife. And from that site, I discovered a forum dedicated to medical spouses.

At first, I read these with mild fascination; I've been dating a med student for only a few months but I've been forewarned of what to expect in the future. When we first started dating, Doc was gracious enough to send me a how-to guide written by Marissa Kristal appropriately titled "How to Date a Med Student." I've got a copy of it taped to my refrigerator at home and yes, I refer to it often (mostly for the it's-funny-cause-it's-true laugh I get from it). In her guide, rule number one states: don't expect to see them ever and I'll sadly admit it rang true right from the beginning. But delving into the websites dedicated to medical spouses has started to turn my stomach and mild amusement has quickly turned to outright horror.

For example, take this piece that I found on the International Medical Spouse Network. Granted I have no right to complain about feeling invisible because so far, Doc has given me more than a fair amount of his attention, despite his being nearly three hours away and busy with his last year of med school/various hospital rotations, etc. But omigod, is this really what I have to look forward to? [[Insert gasp of horror here.]]

Or what about this one? I must not be the smart one in my relationship; I had to read it twice for it to actually sink in. I am aware that of the two of us, I'm the one with what would be considered "the less important career" but I don't think I wanted to come out and admit it just yet. I wanted to win a Pulitzer Prize first, that way I'd have a foundation to make a counter argument. I'd have settled for a New England Press and Newspaper Association Award, to be honest. Anything to lend some kind of credibility to my slave labor.

I'm well-schooled in the art of dating someone whose career revolves around helping others. I'm used to pagers going off and having my significant other run off to one emergency or another. It's par for the course when you date anyone in the police/fire/ems profession, and I've lived that life (off and on) for the last three years. As such, I'm probably better prepared to date someone in the medical profession than most.

And OK, yes, perhaps I'm looking a little too far ahead here (though you can ever be too prepared for something); after all I'm hardly a spouse, I'm just his girlfriend. Reading these blogs and diagnosing potential future relationship problems is probably almost as bad as being a hypochondriac in med school. Then again, shouldn't you be prepared for battle before you enter a war? (Did I just compare my relationship to a war? I probably don't want to go there...)

Maybe I'll wait a bit and see how things progress, then I'll have one of two options: start a new blog titled So I Landed a Doctor, or marry someone in finance.