Rabbits and Research

Rabbits, Research, and Reality Checks: My Life in 8-Week Mayhem

Some weeks, I feel like I’m juggling flaming torches while riding a unicycle… blindfolded… on a tightrope… over a pit of angry rabbits. And this week? Let’s just say the torches are on fire, the unicycle is wobbling, and my brain is running on an IV drip of coffee. Between two classes in eight weeks, 557 fellowship applications, seven long Fridays of interviews, and trying to find a new show rabbit for my daughter, I sometimes wonder if adulting is just a cruel prank.

Yes, you read that right: 557 ERAS applications. I personally screened every single one. Every. Single. One. My eyes may never forgive me, and my sanity has filed a formal complaint. Then came the interviews—seven long Fridays packed with tours, interviews, and endless “Why MD Anderson is awesome” speeches. But honestly? It’s also kind of amazing to meet all these incredible candidates and know we’re shaping the next generation of hematology/oncology rockstars.

Meanwhile, life didn’t pause for fellowship chaos. My daughter’s first show rabbit, Juniper, has retired from the spotlight and is now just a very cute pet. That meant it was time to track down a new rabbit—located at the Texas/Oklahoma border. That’s a six-hour one-way drive. Perfect timing, right before the kickoff of Fall Shows. Nothing like packing a giant rabbit cage into the car while mentally calculating paper deadlines, interviews, and caffeine intake.

Oh yes, the school chaos. Two classes. Eight weeks. Multiple papers already submitted, and two more looming in the next nine days. Sleep? Optional. Coffee? Mandatory. “Wing it” strategy? Not so much—it just led to late-night writing sessions and existential conversations with my cat about life choices. Lesson learned: I need a schedule. A real schedule. One that includes work, school, rabbits, and maybe, if I’m lucky, a shower.

So yes, I’m balancing fellowship recruitment, interviews, Excel spreadsheets, school papers, rabbit logistics, and the beginning of show season. Somehow, I’m still eating (mostly), sleeping (occasionally), and laughing at the absurdity of it all. There’s something wildly satisfying about crossing tasks off the list—even when the list is longer than a CVS receipt.

Here’s to caffeine, chaos, spreadsheets, show rabbits, and the reality checks that keep life interesting. If anyone sees me muttering to myself about “another 557 applications” or “two papers due in nine days,” just nod and smile. I’m fine. Really.