Now I have no excuse

(PS - Happy birthday, Robin! And a belated happy birthday to Brad.)

I fell asleep last night, way too early.

I have to start sleeping better, because sleeping more isn't helping. I still suck as a sleeper...

So we had a ice storm last night. I got up this morning and my entire apartment complex was coated with a sheet of glass. The driving was miserable getting out of my neighborhood, and I spent most of the drive wishing I had a job where I could call out. But I made it. Peng made it. Our intern made it. Our attending even made it (although he was two hours late).

My clinic this afternoon was fun - only one of my four patients showed up. She was one of two that came to the entire child clinic. And she was pretty entertaining (in a good way, not in that holy-wow-is-this-one-crazy kind of way).

It never ceases to amaze me down here - every year I've lived here there's been snow and ice. And yet we have no idea how to deal with snow and ice. It's a perpetual catastrophe. We have no equipment for it. Every year, people! Get a clue!!

Grump, grump, grump...

I have no idea what this has to do with birthdays...

....but it came up when I ran "birthday" through a Google Image search. And I liked it.

Happy birthday to me.

It was such a good day. Good coffee time this morning, good therapy session, then I went and bought a motorcycle helmet (I'm registered for the course. I'm acquiring gear. I guess this is actually happening!). There were cupcakes at our test (inservice exam part two). Cleo and Olga and I went for mani/pedis. And then a whole bunch of my friends came out for dinner - including friends from two different social circles. Who blended really well. AND there was (almost authentic) Chicago deep dish pizza - broccoli, peppers, and feta, my very favorite from the place we had dinner.

Plus, like, everybody in the world (well, in my world) who wasn't actually here texted, called, or left me a Facebook message.

I love my people.

Tomorrow

Eight years ago today, my sweet, brilliant, awesome little Goddaughter was born.

Eight years ago tomorrow, I got to meet her.

Eight years ago tomrrow, she was a tiny peanut of a thing, or at least that's the way she looked sitting on her six-foot-five Chicago cop father's shoulder.

(Eight years ago last week, she looked to be about the size of a linebacker inside her tiny-torsoed, five-foot-something, way-too-adorable mom's belly.)

Eight years ago tomorrow, I learned the value of my Doctor Walk, when I waltzed into Maternity Care unannounced and without a visitor's pass, said hello to the nurses, and walked into her mom's room like I belonged there. Which we then finagled into her getting an extra visitor, when I took her abuela's visitor's pass down to her uncle on my way out.

Eight years ago tomorrow, I was studying for my boards, and got the best study break ever.

Eight years ago tomorrow, my heart found a little more room.

Happy birthday, Alej. Your Nouna, te ama.

And, of course...

My very favorite two year old nephew is officially two today. Happy birthday to Luke!!

And in related news, I'm going to try to be better about remembering people's birthdays. I've been a little distracted lately, of course, but still.

The words to go along with that whole "wordless" thing

The pic is a cameraphone shot, today, of one of the two turkey vultures that are nesting on top of the hospital. Yes. Vultures. Living at a hospital. They keep circling the ICU tower. It's creepy.

In unrelated wordiness, happy belated 30th to Sparrow (it was the 20th), and 32nd to Matt (yesterday), Ruthie, and Corrina (both today). I'm lapsing on this whole birthday thing, so we'd better celebrate again extra hard when I return. Mazel tov.

Less stuck

I finally made it home (it's quarter to 11), safe and sound. And don't worry, sadly enough there was no TWD involved in the last post. It was a lot of typing while parked on the I-40 (they do a lot of road construction at night, here, which is great during rush hour. Less great when you're stuck for-EVER when you don't expect to be and are already getting home late).

Maggie was excited. And I so totally love our dog sitter. I left him a note that today was her birthday and she was nine; he wrote back saying she got extra treats and he sang her happy birthday.

She really is the best dog ever. It worries me that she's getting up in years. Not that she knows that, so don't tell her. She still acts like a crazy puppy.

One of my patients had a great moment in therapy today. It was really phenomenal. 

Sparrow is an aunt!! Her little niece hatched today. She's very cute in pictures. Sparrow's flying south tomorrow to snuggle her in person. I'm a tiny bit jealous.

Oh! And! Today was Match Day, so we got a whole crop of new soon-to-be-interns. I think we got a really good group of incoming colleagues.

Tonight was also my last Mindfulness class. That course wound up being better than I expected from the first few sessions. It turned out to be an interesting bunch. I wish it had been a few weeks longer, because I feel like we were just starting to really hit our dynamic.

Today was actually kind of rough, but on the whole, I kept being reminded that I have really good people in my life. Which is what I'm choosing to take away from today.

Brr

It's been a long ass day. But not a bad one.

Work was long. And chaotic. But I only have six more days on the crisis unit.

We went out for dinner after work - it was Mikaela's birthday today, so she and I and Scott and Wren (the small but motley crew we could cobble together at the last minute) went out, and Peng joined us later. It was lovely. There was a lot of laughing. Then I had class #2 of my mindfulness course, which was...I dunno. I'm finding it to be kind of disappointing, but I'm sure it will perk up soon. And one of my previous classmates has joined our group, which is pleasant. After class, though, in a remarkable joint display of poor judgment, I ended up standing in the parking lot talking with a classmate of mine for two hours in the 38 degree weather. At one point he looks down and says, "My toes are frozen." I said, "Yeah, we should go." So we walked ten feet down the parking lot and then talked for probably another 45 minutes.

Y'all, I'm cold.

And I need to go to bed. Because morning does come awfully early around these parts....

Turred

(Apparently that's how you say "tired" in Southern)

Y'all, it's been a hellish week. I'll have more to say about it tomorrow. But tonight I went out with a bunch of folks from work. There are a bunch of January birthdays in the second year class, and so we went to this Thai/Japanese spot to celebrate. It was lovely.

And I'm so unbelieveably ready for bed....

Tigers and Cougars and Crazies - oh my!!

There's a newbie in the Blogosphere.

One of my good friends from Baby Blue has started a blog. Well, actually, two. Jenny, who on occasion is known on this blog as Tiger, or previously, Edie (I think) speaks of the tales and tails that allow us a glimpse into the crazy and wonderful that is her life at A Life I Never Expected. Additionally, she opens to us her spiritual journeys, and those of her coven, at Which Way Apothecary.

Welcome, Jenny.

Incidentally, it's also Jenny's birthday. She says she's slipping over the hill. I say she's my favorite Cougar. Either way, I hope this is a wonderful year.

It's actually quite a time of year for birthdays. Brad's was yesterday as well - happy birthday, Brad! Rene's was this past weekend - happy birthday, Rene! And there are enough impending that there's a group birthday outing tomorrow night for all the January birthdays. Should be a good time!

It's only 9pm here, but that means it's 3am back home. Y'all, I'm freakin' exhausted. And blogging by text bc I don't have reliable wifi. Oh, and I'm also 31.

Bittersweet day

So, it's a day of good things, and one particularly sad thing.

First, the good. Today is both Claudia's birthday AND Annie's birthday.

Claudia, I'm reasonably certain is 29 (still).

Happy birthday to you both. Love you both, miss you both. Hope it was a great day.

In less happy news, my friend's 15 year-old completely awesome black Lab died. Barney was a good friend. He purred - no kidding! It was the darnedest little noise he'd make when you scratched his belly. And you could not leave a glass of beer unattended long, and especially not on the coffee table. Love you, too, Barnes. Have fun chasing squirrels in heaven.

What better way...

...to celebrate one's birthday than by working a ridiculous number of hours in the preceding weekend? Especially when your husband of a month gets to come home between brunch and dinner prep and you're stuck at work. At least she was stuck at work with me (it was fun being on this weekend together! You know, as fun as those things get). And I have a feeling today will be better (there's big fabulous dinner involved).

Happy birthday, Peng.

Growing up...

First of all, a happy third birthday (holy cow...) to my adorable little nephew, Basil, who was pictured in yesterday's post (I have a very similar picture to that one from about a year and a half ago. Such a little ham).

Bazie is 3. Annalise is 2. Luke is 1. When did these kids start getting so old? And what does that imply about us?!

Alas, time continues to march on, with or without us, and I prefer "with."

I spent a good portion of this weekend watching ridiculous reality shows on MTV. I spent Saturday watching "16 and Pregnant," which is pretty much what it sounds like. I spent yesterday watching "The World's Strictest Parents," which is actually not an accurate moniker, from what I saw. It was more like, "People who actually do a good job of parenting." Most of them were not actually all that strict, there was a lot of respect for the kids, and there was a lot of teamwork and give and take. They put a lot of emphasis on the punishments, but there was a lot of positive reinforcement that went on as well. And that makes such a difference. If all you do is yell and criticize, of course your kids are going to get out of control. But the other thing that really struck me was that these parents all had their own shit reasonably well under control, at least in that they knew what of their own experiences and feelings had a place in their parenting and what didn't.

This is in stark contrast to how I spent my day today.

My first patient of the day was...probably delirious. Possibly psychotic, or catatonic, or something, but something was most definitely wrong with her, so I took her to the ER. My other two clinic patients went better, but in between all of this I spent way too much time on the adolescent unit. We had one of the most chaotic family meetings I've ever been in (my ears were ringing when I left), which ran over and I had to go see a clinic patient. So then I went back up to the unit and processed with my kiddo for a while. And I talked to the intern on the service, who was wonderfully validating of my observations in the meeting.

Peng says to me, later, in our office, "You know, all I'm saying is, nobody else's therapists go to the family meetings." I, of course, because I do this, started defending my decision to be part of this (although running it was not what I'd had in mind, but the intern is like two weeks old. I kind of wish the social worker had chimed in a bit more, but...). She puts up her hand and says, "no, no, I'm not saying you should or shouldn't have gone. I'm just saying, other kids who've been on that unit have therapists here and they never go to the family meetings."

And with that simple statement, she really makes so many really good points.

I think it was important for me to be there today - if nothing else, my kiddo needed someone who was solidly on her side, but who could be a little more objective and was a good referee - but this stuff always takes a toll on you, you know? It's hard work being the therapist. But it's also really rewarding sometimes.

See? I'm not a dominatrix. I'm a masochist. I'm not sure those two can really go together...

"No. Really. Come back soon."

First of all, a very happy birthday to my cousin Danielle. She's a Baskin-Robbins this year (31). Many happy returns. Maybe I'll actually make it down to Texas to visit before we're 32. Or at least before Annalise is!!

Re, the title: I went up to the unit today to see one of my therapy patients who wound up on the inside, and ran into my friend John, whom I haven't seen in a while. The end of our conversation entailed a discussion of how I was going to be back working the inpatient units (also clinic. Eek) in two weeks. He was like, "good. It'll be good to have you back." I said, I'm sure you'd do just fine without me.

I tell you what. I had six patients scheduled today. My last one was at 2 and was the one that was admitted. I got in wretchedly early so I could leave by 4 at the very latest (nooooo problem, right? Ha) and make my rescheduled appointment with my trainer at 5.

I left the hospital at around 5:30 (which, incidentally, was a good hour or more before Peng got to leave. Catatonia slows everything down).

And oy, it was a long day. One of my patients didn't show. Another one cancelled (when I texted her ten minutes after her appointment time and said, are you coming?). I had THE LOUDEST HUMAN BEING ON EARTH's mother and case worker calling me to complain about each other (I'm not telling you whose side I'm on). I had a crapton of prescription refills, paperwork, and lab reports waiting for me. And of course I spent like two hours total up on the adolescent unit.

So my kid, who's getting closer to legal adulthood every day, got "in trouble" for talking to one of the younger patients about sex. I asked her about this, and she says, "well, the other patient had questions. I was honest with her. We talked about what it means to have that in your life. It wasn't like I was giving her advice on positions or anything."

I asked the staff, "what kind of 'talking about sex' was this?" They said, "well...it was about sex."

::sigh::

I'm sure the answer is somewhere between Little Miss Innocent and Little Miss Devil, but, come on, people.

Not to mention...here's the beginning of my conversation with John.

(John is standing in front of the nurses' station and, illustrating a point - although I can't imagine what point - has his hands up over his head and is reaching down his back. I happen to be walking behind him and poke at his fingers. You know, because we're 12.)

John: Hi, Kate.
Me: Hey, John.
John: I'd know those fingers anywhere!
Me: Shh! John! Don't tell them our business!
John: I meant anywhere geographically, not anywhere on my body! That's a whole other conversation we shouldn't have in front of the kids.

The nurses found this humorous (God only knows why). Now, I concede, John and I are both adults. My hands have never actually been lower than John's scapula (I think I've punched him in the shoulder a couple of times), and we're obviously friends, and obviously kidding. And the staff jokes at this level all the time (because? We're all secretly 12 when we walk on that unit). Which is fine, as long as everyone involved is okay with it (John and I know our limits, but part of the reason we get along so well is that he's as dirty as I am, and we both know this). But it does suggest an atmosphere of...casualness and permissiveness about these sorts of things.

There's a lot of ways to "talk about sex." Some of them are really inappropriate. Some of them are really beneficial. And the younger patient in question was a teenager. Hopefully, she's had some formal sex ed at this point. And you KNOW she's had some form of informal sex ed by that age. Plus, sex is kind of a basic human thing (anyone remember Maslow? Or Freud? Or Salt-n-Pepa?). You can make it something that can be discussed openly in a respectful and appropriate manner, or you can make it something that needs to be whispered about at night between bed checks.

I'm just saying.

(In a related story, my Aunt Aphrodite, earlier this week, was telling a story at our big family gathering about seeing this movie which referenced "BJs", and these two older women in the theater in front of her that were like, "What the heck's a BJ?" So she's telling this story, and several of my relatives were like...um...what IS a BJ? She says, think about what it stands for. And one of my uncles starts spelling. Seriously. "Is it b-l-o...?" I finally stuck my head out of the kitchen, and was like, "Oral sex. It's oral sex. Finish the story." Christ on a cracker, I'm THIRTY, people. And a doctor. As funny as it was, spelling things just ain't going to cut it...but back to my point.)

There are a lot of problems with assuming that kids don't talk/think/know about sex and making it a shameful or off-limits thing to discuss. You create a mysterious or rebellious drive to find out. You send them looking to other sources for information that can be unreliable or dangerous. You deprive them of learning what's appropriate to discuss when and how. Like I said, I don't know what the story really is, here, in this scenario, but I don't think it should automatically be a demerit just on principle.

And the thing that's most important to me in a group of kids like this who are at very high risk of abuse or exploitation, you make it impossible for them to talk to you about it. So, you've made it something bad and shameful, which you don't talk to adults about...how do you deal with it if someone's hurting you or making you do things or even just making you uncomfortable?

It's just sex, folks. Funny how it's important, but trying to make it seem unimportant makes it become just that much more important.

Florida Biker Bar

(From my Dad. Who is now old, although never a biker and does not live in Florida. Happy birthday, Dad!!)

Windy

So I'm in Chicago. And glad to be out of the car. But it's going to be a busy, busy week...

I had dinner with my cousins and my uncle tonight. I adore them, I do, but sometimes I wonder how I came out of this family (i.e., we were talking about a news story at dinner, and my cousin says, "Well, what do you expect, he's black?" I was like, really?? Because last time I checked white kids shot people too. And Hispanic kids, and Asian kids, and - wait for it - Greek kids).

I also set my parents up on Facebook. Apparently my mom's friends from work have been pestering her to join. Seriously, I find this weird. Not in a bad way, just...in a weird way.

I keep thinking of a news story I read a couple of years ago about how there was this big shift of teenagers over to Friendster because there were too many "old people" (my age) on Facebook. My father's going to be 77 tomorrow. I doubt this bothers the teenagers too much, though, because clearly they all came back...

Tomorrow, as I mentioned, is my dad's birthday (happy birthday, Dad!). We're going to go to breakfast. Claud and I are going to hang out in the afternoon. Thursday my God daughter and her mom are coming for lunch, and then the crew is assembling at Robin's for burgers on the grill (mmmm). Friday my cousins (different ones) are coming for dinner. Saturday the whole family descends, and on Sunday, I will knit. I'm hoping to work in a couple of other friends, too, or maybe more time with the same friends. Then back in the car on Monday, home and pick up Ms. Mags on Tuesday, back to work Friday. So at least I get a couple of days to chill out and unpack my house...

Whew. I need a vacation from this vacation!

In other, not so pleasant news, I got word tonight that my friend's boyhood friend is in hospice and has about two weeks left. Keep them in your thoughts and prayers. And remind all the men my age that you know that think they're young and healthy and invincible that they're exactly the ones testicular cancer strikes. Regular checkups, self exams - it's important stuff. To you, and the people who love you.

Also counting.

My very dear little niece, Annalise, is two today. I can't believe she's that old already!! I made her a blanket when my cousin was pregnant - it was the first real crochet project I ever did. I had to have Joyce at the yarn shop teach me how to crochet so I could even start it. That seems like yesterday.

Wow.

Happy birthday, kiddo!

Love my mom Thursday.

It's my mom's birthday. Happy birthday, Mom! It's amazing how I keep getting older and she doesn't...

I know I promised you a rant tonight, but I was on Day Float today and it was INSANE. We saw like a bajillion people and still had to hand stuff off. And y'all, I'm ti-red. So, rant delayed.

But did I mention it's my mom's birthday? Happy birthday, Mom!

Golden

Happy birthday to my dear friend Ali. I'm not sure she reads the blog, but, well, this is what's replaced birthday cards in my life. Ali and I have been friends since I was four. We went to grade school, high school, through college together. I rented half my house to her husband for two years. I was in their wedding. That girl has known me longer than I think either of us cares to think about.

It's her golden birthday today (she was born on the 31st, and she's 31 today - I'm sure she loves that I'm telling you that). Her husband said he was making her Golden Grahams for breakfast and taking her to the Golden Arches for dinner. Someone on Facebook pointed out that he'd better be tossing some gold jewelry into that mix, too.

My golden birthday was fine. I was 13. It was a year, whatever. Actually, it was my eighth grade year, which sucked. But the birthday itself was decent. Claud's was a few years ago - we had a good time on her birthday (Cubs game with Ali and Jer, actually - Jer gave her nacho cheese for her birthday. I think he'd already eaten all the nachos), but 27 was a really terrible year for her, if I'm remembering right.

Girl, I hope this one goes well for you.

I knew it!

So, my nephew Luke's birthday was actually Saturday. Which is what I had written on my calendar, but, as we all know, I'm easily confused. So, happy 367th day of life, little guy. I promise you'll get that baby blanket sometime before you have your own kids.

(PS - here's how that cake thing went Saturday...



Don't worry. It got better.



Is he not just the cutest thing or what?)

Today was long and irritating. I had three patients show up all day, out of eight scheduled (I think it was originally nine, but one disappeared before last night, so they don't count). Only one cancelled. So I spent the day doing disability paperwork and making lists for the clinic people and talking on the phone to my "No really, I'm gonna do it, I will!" chronically suicidal patient who always makes me a little sad.

I went to the Staples, though, between work and my shrink, which always makes me a little giddy. What is it about office supplies? I'm such a junkie. I think it's all the possibility that exists in blank reams of paper and brightly colored pens. The sheer potential of an unsharpened pencil. It's quite heady. Anyway, today I bought new pens, a giant box of forks (you heard me), and a brand new July-August planner for my third year clinic. That's exciting in its own right.

It struck me today - isn't it interesting that "academic year" planners go by a residency year? I think it's probably coincidence, but, well, it's the sort of dumb thing I find "interesting." It's helpful, for me, at least.

Yeah, that's probably a sign I need to go to bed...I only got half the dishes done, but I think the others can wait until tomorrow.