"table for one" no more

People often say the best time to meet that special someone is when you weren't looking for him. Since moving out here, I've been perfectly happy being the mid-twenties, single girl, hitting up the town with my roommate, flirting comfortably, dating sporadically, or even just curling up alone on my couch at home with a movie and a bowl of salt and pepper popcorn. I certainly wasn't on the prowl for a boyfriend. In fact, committment was kind of a daunting word for me. Then it all began.

I can't really remember exactly when it started. I was a new student in my surgical rotation at a small community hospital. There were multiple PA's who worked in the OR. Everyone I'd met so far had been welcoming and friendly. None of the intimidation I'd heard about and expected for this kind of high intensity rotation. But there was one PA that irked me. Our first full conversation started off with him throwing out a total pimp question("Pimping" is what happens when med students are pelted with hard questions in front of everyone by the attending doctor).

"So, what's the difference between dementia and delerium?" he asked me.

"You suck" was my first, and luckily internal, reaction. "Hmm... the onset delerium is usually faster?" I responded.

"Delerium... is reversible." Damn, I thought. And that was that.

Here's the thing about pimping. As much as it sucks to be asked questions you don't fully know the answer to, it's one of the most effective ways of learning. I'll never forget the answer to that question now, but I suppose I'm also prone to remember this conversation because of whom it was with. After that day though, I decided I was intrigued, but I had other things to focus on. Better to write him off than to let him distract me.

The problem was, I wasn't distracted. As a matter of fact, it was quite the opposite. I studied harder because I wanted to be prepared the next time we spoke. When he left for a week to volunteer in Central America doing free orthopedic surgeries, I had to admit I was a little bummed... and a little more taken. Over those eight weeks, we would chat about our weekends while checking out the board where they scheduled the day's surgeries (kind of like the OR water cooler). Our paths didn't cross that often, but when they did, he would show me a patient with an interesting disease, or go over a cool x-ray. Occasionally, we would finish the day at the same time and coincidentally end up walking to the parking lot together.

Then, one night I took call on the same night he was on. We ended up working multiple cases together and not finishing until 1am. We must have been delerious (note: a delerium only reversible by food), because he suggested he, the anesthesiologist, and I grab a bite to eat at Denny's, while I, not caring that I had work at 7am the following morning, I agreed. For that hour, we met for the first time out of our scrubs and as people, not students or teachers or PAs.

As the end of my rotation neared, I didn't really know what to make of this friendship if it even was one. But on my last day at the hospital, he handed me a book we'd discussed earlier that week, The Last Lecture. It being my last day, we would have to speak to each other again outside of work if he ever wanted his book back. However, on my way out at the end of the day, all I could do was pop my head in to each OR and say a quick goodbye to the PAs since they were all still working. I poked my head into David's room and thanked him for a great rotation. He managed to pull one hand away from the surgery to make a "phone me" sign with his hand. I went back to the PA office and packed up my bag. I searched the office, but could not find the contact info for any of the PAs aside from my own mentor. Oh well, I guess he'll have to find a way to contact me if he ever wants his book back.

Ok, I wasn't going to make him do ALL the work. A few days later, I emailed my preceptor and mentioned the book loaning and hence the need for David's phone number or email. Before I could get a response though, I received a text... from David. I don't remember what he said, but I do remeber the following weeks of texts back and forth were witty and captivating. We discussed the book he'd loaned me and admitted our childhood dreams (mine was jumping in a huge pile of leaves, something you miss out on with West Coast autumn). We bet on our dancing skills. I recall speaking to my friend in Cali and telling her with guarded excitement that I may have just found (as she calls it) my "verbal sparring partner".

One weekend, there was a huge rally on the National Mall in DC and it turned out both of us were planning to attend. We decided to meet up. Unfortunately, we were not prepared for the cell phone jam that occurs when thousands of people gather in one place. I managed to get a text through to him later that day: "care to join me for a pumpkin carving contest/chili cookoff?" I left out the minute detail that the location of this even happened to be at a homeless shelter in a not-so-awesome part of town. I met a bewildered David at the metro station. He took it in stride when I explained that we were actually going to the place I volunteer. He got extra points for talking it up with some of my favorite residents. The chili by the way... incredible.

After that, we started seeing each other more often. Dinner here, an episode of Dexter there... our first kiss. Now that I will not try to describe here, but I would like to make it known that I... yes I made the first move.

There's one more event that I should mention since it really sealed the deal. One day I got an invitation to see David's place for the first time. I drove over, but before he would let me in, he made me close my eyes. I noticed as he guided my shoulders that we continued somewhere outside. When he finally told me to open them, I stared out at an enormous pile of LEAVES. He had led me to his backyard where he had piled leaves acquired from a co-workers yard. There was only one thing to do: I took a running start and dove into the pile, revelling in the golden, crunchy leaves. David soon joined in the fun. We took pictures, made leaf angels, burrowed into the heap until only our faces stuck out. It was then that I was certain I'd found a keeper. David had won me over with his humor, his thoughtfulness, and, among other things, leaves.

On December 14th, he texted explaining how he wanted to tell his mom about the new girl in his life. He asked if he could refer to me as his "girlfriend". I said definitely.