Ends like it began

Naturally, since having a diploma, an ECFMG certificate, my transcripts, my paperwork in (minus my benefits package, which I have to overnight) is not enough to really *end* the process of being a student at SGU, I figured I'd do what I did when I entered medical school... which is... be on crutches.

Shit. For reference:

One of my earlier posts from the island

I would have said, prior to ripping my plantar fascia, that being on crutches in Grenada is one of the biggest pains in the ass on the planet. Now, I will correct that notion and say that being on crutches in NYC is one of the biggest pains in the ass on the planet. Do you have any idea how many stairs there are in this city? It's obscene.

It's giving me a few perspectives though.

1. While crutches do a great deal to alleviate the pain in your actual foot/leg, they make your upper body feel like you've been rock climbing while an obese child rides you piggy back and periodically kicks you in the stomach.

2. Spring in New York feels like summer in the Sudan to your foot when you have a brace on it.

3. In the NY metro systems, crutches trump visibly pregnant ladies trump old people. Seriously, in a place known for the general malignant nature of its populace, I had crackheads leaping out of the way to surrender a seat to me. It doesn't make me any more of a fan of the Bhutan death march that is getting from the R train to the LIRR at Atlantic terminal, but it still gives me the warm fuzzies.

4. If you're wearing anything with a lower cut than "overalls" or "mom jeans", you have to stop, move your crutches to one hand, and haul the pants up and your shirt down every 10 feet.

5. Dude, you can't carry *anything* with these stupid things. Coffee? Gotta hoof it like Tiny Tim with a caffeine addiction. Purse? Gets caught. Groceries? Yeah frigging right.

6. Handicap bathrooms... so THAT'S what those bars are for.

7. I'm a good little newly minted doctor, thus I don't ride the crutches with in my armpits because I don't want to lose the use of my hands. The result? Extreme rib chafing.

So that's my whine.

Meanwhile... I saw a Broadway show (not Spiderman), which was on my NY bucket list, by taking my mom to see Phantom of the Opera. There was quite a bit of drama on obtaining the tickets, because the ticket broker is operated by imbeciles and the theater doesn't really care since they're not really going for the repeat business. But I managed to get them, and so it was actually really cool. I may have the bug for it, though next time I get tickets, I'm going to see if these bad boy crutches earn me a front spot at TKTS so I can forgo the whole online ticket thing. We also ate at Sardi's, because we had a Groupon and that place is expensive. I discovered my ability to recognize celebrities based on their caricatures is even less impressive than my ability to recognize them when I walk by them (I have poor facial recognition).

What else? Yadda yadda rooftop bar. Yadda yadda endless paperwork for starting residency.