Please accept my apologies

If I don't return your call until next week. If you send me an email and I never reply. Instead, I text you three days later. I'm busy, I'm tired and I am stressed - I don't hate you. Yet.
In other words, it's not you, it's residency. On June 21st, I took the bus to my new hospital/home for the next 7 years and started Basic Life Support training. This is a course that incoming interns need to complete before they can be set loose on all the unsuspecting patients in the hospital. How to do CPR, what to do if a person collapses in front of you...good stuff you'd like your doctor to know, right? Health care workers (that's me!) need to get re-certified in this every two years. The course I had during medical school was three years ago - and long forgotten - and so it began. On the 22nd, I had Advanced Cardiac Life Support training, which is, well...advanced. I had to pass a test and practical the next day, so I was memorizing and punching my head that night. Then I had orientation, and more orientation and even more orientation. Fast forward a week and it was Friday, July 1st, the first day that three other interns (Emergency medicine guy, other Neurosurgery intern/guy and General surgery guy) and I had to take care of our 40 or so patients on the general surgery trauma service (I am doing a general surgery rotation this month). Basically, the day was probably, the worst day of my life.
The pressure from my seniors to get things done, the desire not to look like a complete idiot, the necessity of having to keep your cool, be diplomatic and not tell that nurse who keeps paging you about patient X's bowel movements to just leave you alone...added to the stress of not knowing where things are/how to do them/what the protocol is and getting lost in the maze of buildings is almost unbearable.
I worked literally, non-stop on Friday from 3:20am (I got up at 2:15am) to about 8:30pm at night. I did not eat, I did not drink and for the last four hours I continued my work with a full, pressed bladder. Very exciting. I never thought I would ever think to myself - I really, really NEED some coffee right now...but I did. On day 1.
I am told things will get better.
On another note, one of the general surgery seniors on my team ought to do stand up. This is what he told me:
Senior: "Hey deadrocketcow, what do you call a talking, breathing, neurosurgery patient?"
Me: "Umm, I don't know..?"
Senior: "Pre-op"
Me: "______"
The joke being, since Neurosurgery is fraught with complications and is generally, a high risk specialty, the only talking, breathing patient you would see on the Neurosurgery service hasn't had their surgery yet.
Today is my one day off (I get one a week) and I feel so much better because of it. I have slept 8 hours instead of 5. I have had a good breakfast instead of no breakfast and I am even being brave - I might work out! I guess this is my life for the next seven years. God help me.