Omen? Or not.

So my dad's in the hospital again.

He's going to be okay. It's a COPD exacerbation, it's that time of year. I expect that he'll be home tomorrow.

So we're sitting in the ER yesterday, and this trauma's coming in. And people are bustling around, and this nurse walks by, and says "all they said was that there was extensive damage to the bike and extensive damage to the helmet."

Oh, shit. I thought. A motorcycle accident. Is the universe trying to tell me something? Did I just make a huge mistake? Oh, my God....

So he rolls in.  He's talking, he's moving all four extremities, it's not as bad as it originally sounded. I'm a little relieved. I listen to the controlled chaos as the team runs the trauma. I listen to him scream when they roll him over. I think, wow. I'm glad he's okay. That could've been so much worse. I still wonder if the universe is sending me a message about having bought a motorcycle this weekend...

And then, the cop shows up.

Long story short? This guy ran a red light. He didn't have a motorcycle license. He didn't have insurance. He was high, and carrying drugs.

Okay, Universe. Point taken. I solemnly swear not to do that...

Don't leave!

I'll keep drinkin', and you'll keep gettin' skinnier..

The song stuck in my head today.



My favorite line? "I don't have to be hateful, I can just say 'Bless your heart.'"

Which may be an indication I've been living in the South too long...

Fun on a Monday

Coffee. Work. Supervision. Therapy. It's Monday, alright.

I did come across this, however. Which I find kind of fascinating.

Enjoy.

PS, I'm so going to bed at 8 tonight....

Sunday.

What a great day I had.

I went to work, which was, well, great would be pushing it. But tolerable. And I was out by 11, so I went to coffee with the few who were still lingering. It was delightful. Good company, good mocha. Mmm. I spent most of the afternoon on the bike. And then I went to a recruitment dinner with Peng and a couple of the interns, and I think we showed them pretty well what a fun bunch we are.

After coffee I came home and futzed around on the internet for a while (okay, I was looking at jackets. It's the last thing I need to feel safer on the bike. It's surprisingly difficult to find non-black). I'd been waiting on Garth to ride, but he wasn't texting me back so I figured he was probably busy. So, ultimately, I geared up and hit the road.

Literally. Okay, "hit" is an overstatement.

I dropped the bike again. No, that's not true. It tipped, and the easiest way to get it back up was to set it down and start over. Both times I was stopped and perpendicular to a hill. The second time I did it, these two women came over and helped me get it pointed back in the right direction. One of them was a biker chick herself. We had a good chuckle at how female-identified the whole thing was. And then I got back on the bike and off I went.

I rode through a bunch of nearby neighborhoods. Eventually I ventured out onto a slightly bigger street, braved the roundabout, and made it to the big parking lot down the street that Larry used to practice for his road test. I rode in circles for a while. Practiced stopping, turning, weaving. And eventually connected with Garth,who rode over and joined me. He had me running drills for a while - shifting, figure eights, turns from a stop. All very useful and increasing my comfort level. We still have to raise the suspension a bit so I'll stop dragging my pegs in the turns, and I think that'll help my comfort level even more.

I came back home through the same roundabout, and this time - at Garth's urging - did the whole loop. Dragging my left peg, sending up showers of sparks the whole time. Which, for those of you unfamiliar with the idea, is fine. It looks dramatic, but it isn't a big deal at all. Garth? Thought it looked cool. Here's what I was thinking:

"I'mgonnadieI'mgonnadieI'mgonnadieI'mgonnadieI'mnotdeadI'mnotdeadI'mnotdeadI'mnotdeadohthankgod I'm going straight again. Ahh."


It'll get better. In that, I'll feel better soon. I wasn't even close to dying.

The progress I've made in the past couple of days has been good, I think. And I'm definitely doing better than I was at the end of class. Which was WAY better than I was doing at the start of class!

Here's a relevant statistic for you: According to the 2006 NTHSA study by Hurt, et al, which studied over 4,000 motorcycle crashes for causative factors and modifiable variables, only 8% of riders involved in crashes had formal training, like the MSF course I took. Stated another way, 92% were self-taught or learned from family or friends.

Makes you think.

Honing one's skills with experienced friends who've had formal instruction, however, is generally encouraged. My instructors in the class said over and over that they highly recommended finding a mentor.

How amazingly lucky am I? I have five.

A tale of two Hogs...

So I finally decided that the Harley Sportster was my bike.

You know how, sometimes, you just know these things? Two weeks ago, I dragged Larry to the Harley dealership in Durham. I had planned to stop in and see a friend who was working there, maybe get these boots I had seen in Long Island. And, you know, while we were there, we sat on a couple of bikes. I threw my leg over this Sportster Extra Low, and was immediately like, yep, this is my bike. It's short enough, it's got a low center of gravity, it's heavy enough that it can accommodate even my weight without shifting said center of gravity up too high to be stable. It was comfortable. The pegs were in the right place. And there was something ineffable...

But no, no. That was way out of my price range! I couldn't afford it. Maybe for my second bike. Moving on.

And then last weekend we went to the other Harley dealership in town to look at their used bikes. Frankly, we went to look at a Yamaha (they have a bunch of pre-owned bikes that they've taken in trade). And lo and behold, they had a used Sportster. Which, that one felt a little high, but the salesman assured me the seat could be lowered a little more. And it had clearly been dropped, but Larry and Garth assured me it was cosmetic damage. And it was only a little out of my price range. But still...

So THEN. Wednesday. I have minimal work commitments, so on my way out to State Hospital, I drift by the first Harley dealership. And, you know, ask what they've got. And we're looking at this one that was priced roughly the same as the first one I'd sat on and he says, "You know, I've got a 1990 Sportster in the warehouse. Why don't you come on back?" So he started it up and let me out on the range and I rode gleefully in circles for five or ten minutes. And the price? Was right. But it was a 20 year old bike...

Hmm.

What do I do?, I asked my boys. Larry said, not an obvious mistake. Garth said, you can do better.

Truthfully? I think they were both right.

And ultimately, Garth prevailed, but only because he did better. He found this bike online, which was a consignment sale through a local independent dealership. It was a 2007 Sportster 883 Low. The price was crazy. And it had - are you ready for this? - 57 miles on it. 57! It's basically a new bike. With engine guards! And street pegs! And standard controls! And stock pipes! And...well, it's black, which I'm not thrilled about, but I'll just have to get a fuchsia jacket or something.

And today? It's all mine.

Garth and I went to check it out. They didn't let us test ride it, which I wasn't thrilled about, but, again, basically a new bike. We fiddled, we looked, we sat, we proverbially kicked the tires. I looked piteously at Garth. He said, you aren't going to find a better deal. I looked piteously at the bike. And I took a deep breath, and said, "I'll take it." And I did.

Isn't she pretty? I've decided it's a she, because apparently the Sportster is a "chick bike." Which, that's fine. I'm a biker chick.

Garth drove it home for me, because I've still never gone above 20 mph. We stopped by Jen and Bill's, and showed it off to them. And then, Garth being the good, good man that he is, we went over to the local high school parking lot, where I rode in circles for a solid hour while Garth froze his ass off watching me (it was not warm today). It was blissful. I didn't hit anything. I didn't drop the bike once. I just rode. And I love the bike. It handles well, the clutch is good, it's not too loud.

It's my bike.

And this whole process has been great for recognizing (again) what an awesome bunch of people I've landed with. Garth, Larry, Bill, Jen - all have been infinitely patient, tolerated my neurosis, soothed my anxieties, and have been amazingly supportive. As they are, to me, in most things. Thanks guys.

Let's ride!!

Turkey

So today wasn't so bad.

I left for work at 6:15. Tried to go to Starbucks for coffee, but of course they weren't open yet. Fortunately, the Bojangles across the street was, and they had coffee. But of course I'd forgotten my wallet, and couldn't pay at the Boj with my Starbucks card. So I dug around my bag and my car, and came up with exactly the amount needed for a coffee and a blueberry biscuit. This made me happy.

I got to work, did my prep work, and hit the floor. I ended up rounding on all the eating disorder patients and most of the adolescents. My attending rolled in a little later than I did, but he also brought me donuts. I was done with my notes by 10. I spent a little while talking to John, who was also working today, and had just stepped out the door of the hospital when my pager started going off.

::sigh::

But I made it home, and then to Thanksgiving at Shady Pines. We had a very nice turkey dinner, with the works - cranberry sauce (from a can, which sort of cracked me up), dressing, ham, sweet potato casserole with the little marshmallows, that green bean casserole with crispy onions on top, etc, etc. We sat with some of my parents' new friends, and it was very nice. One of their friends is not a whole lot older than I am, and was only allowed to move in to SP because he's blind. He was also instrumental in creating the rehab organization that has the movers who've moved me the last three times I...um...moved. He and his fiancee were great to talk to. As was her cousin and the cousin's husband, who are also residents there. Their "adopted son" and his wife sat with us, too. It was a nice time. I hung out with my folks for a little while afterwards.

I stopped on the way home and checked in on Larry's cats, who are in my charge for the holiday. I've met them before, and they know I smell like a big dog. Larry maintains that they have no idea what a dog is, but I think cats know. Anywho, they've not had a problem with me before, but do seem to notice that I smell funny. The calico was all purrs and love.

(This is us, sitting in the dark because Larry doesn't appear to have any lights in the living room...)

The black cat, not so much. He kept looking at me suspiciously, like, "Who are you and what have you done with my person?". He was civil, and happily accepted the cat treat I gave him, of course. It's funny, though, because he's got the reputation of being the affectionate one.

It also reminded me, though, of the differences between cats and dogs. I tell my dog, "Hey, Maggie, come here!" and most of the time, she'll come trotting over. She listens, usually. She does a few commands. The cats? After walking around the kitchen with the calico at my heels, I finally sat down and called her over.

She sat.

And looked at me.

And cleaned her face.

Hmm....

Hullo

Can't make this shit up.

I met a woman today - here, in NC - who used to live in a house I lived in. In Chicago. We were obviously some years apart, but we had the same bedroom growing up. It was very, very spooky. And pretty damn cool.

What a weird week I'm having.

What a weird life I have.

Squawk!

I had this incredibly ridiculous, headless chicken kind of day. Early therapy patient, then breakfast with the applicants, rounds, team, family meeting, applicant interview, resident support lunch, family meeting, supervision, therapy...filling the occasional spare minutes with phone calls, notes, emails, and one sticky bun that took me four hours to finish.

All on an inexplicable four hours of sleep.

I don't care if it's 8pm. I'm goin' to bed.....

Thanks

Wait, has it really been since Wednesday that I've posted anything? Is that sentence even English?

Last week was, as you can probably guess, difficult. For a lot of different reasons. But fortunately, the weekend was awesome.

You know my circle of friends that's centered around the coffee shop refers to itself as the Village. Yesterday was the annual Village Thanksgiving celebration. It's a standing tradition, that's been going on for a number of years now from what I gather, but this was obviously my first. And it was wonderful.

It's a potluck, so I spent the afternoon baking cornbread. LOTs of cornbread. Regular, pumpkin, and pumpkin pecan. Because when I bring a side dish, I bring the heck out of it, apparently. There were some mishaps, but I ended up with a large amount of a passable product (actually, the pumpkin was reeeeally good). I picked up Larry (since he lives a stone's throw from me) and his casserole, and off we went to the north end of town. There were probably 25 or 30 of us, and enough food for a small nation. Turkey, dressing, beans of many kinds, scratch-made cranberry sauce and mashed potatoes, some sort of broccoli soup, brussel sprouts, on and on and on. And the desserts!! One friend in particular made the most a-maz-ing cheesecake I think I've ever had. Garth and family came with a fabulous apple tart. Misty made rockin' apple pie. Oh, my gosh, it was such a spread. And the evening concluded with ten or so of us sitting around the fire pit toasting marshmallows and laughing a lot. At one point we ran out of storebought firewood, so our hostess sent her husband into the woods behind the house for more. We set a good dozen marshmallows on fire and I stole sips of Larry's whiskey and two friends melted parts of their shoes on the fire pit. And my sides were a little sore by the end of the evening from laughing so hard.

We debriefed on the way home and discussed how I was a little tense going into the evening. I'm new to the collective, some of whom have known each other for quite some time, and I always worry a little about how I'll be received. But invariably I end up feeling welcome and being reminded how grateful I am to belong to the group.

And then, today, after coffee and breakfast with our inner circle, Larry and Garth and I went bike shopping again. Garth was a good addition to the entourage and is by far the most mechanically minded and knowledgeable of any of us. Larry has been incredibly tolerant of me dragging him all over North Carolina while I try to make up my mind about what sort of bike I want. Both of them have been very patient and reassuring and, being very proficient and experienced riders, a wealth of wisdom. We made some real progress on the motorcycle front, today, I think, even if I didn't actually come home with a bike. But I was driving back from Southeastern Nowhere, NC this afternoon, with Garth in my back seat fiddling on his iPhone and Larry next to me humming some Aerosmith song that had been playing at the Harley dealership, and I couldn't help but smile as we headed into the lengthening shadows of an afternoon well spent.

I'm so grateful to be continually collecting good people in my life.

Film view

Oh, what a tiring day.

I wish I could come up with some moving words of wisdom tonight. Instead, I give you the song that's been rolling around in my head all day...

Day "off"

So, I took today off so I could get some things done that I can't do on the weekends. I got about half of it accomplished.

Did go to the DMV, took the written motorcycle test, gave them my little card and $18.75, and in 5-7 days will have a reissued driver's license with a big "M" on it, which says I'm allowed to ride a motorcycle on public streets.

God help us all.

Nah, it's fine. It did take me longer than anticipated, though, partly because I went to the one in the county where I used to live. The lines were usually shorter, and beyond that, I got a call while I was at coffee this morning that one of my patients was out of his prescription of one of those things you can't call in or prescribe electronically. So the trip worked double duty, because I went out to the clinic at State Hospital and wrote him this month's scripts. But it also meant I had to move Maggie's vet appointment. I ran some other errands while I was out there, and made it back with just enough time to check my email before I took Maggie to her rescheduled appointment. Which, we went to a new vet today for the first time. Which turned out to be crazy expensive, even with the "senior dog" discount.

You heard me. Senior dog discount. Maggie's in the AARC (you know. The American Association of Retired Canines). No wonder she gets on so well at Shady Pines.

But the vet was WONDERFUL. And she said my dog is awesome. And she reassured me that the bump on my puppy's head is just a bump, not head cancer. And Maggie is no longer out of heartworm pills and has a nice, shiny new 3-year rabies shot. And the vet has weekend hours for established patients, which we now are. Win. Oh, and they took what appears to be a mug shot for her file:

Where are the numbers, though?

Of course, though, it took longer than I'd hoped, which meant I was late to therapy. Which always ends on time, of course, and I made it in on schedule to my next appointment, which was...interesting.

And then I had chocolate for dinner.

I'm so glad I'm going back to work tomorrow.

Someday this is going to be really funny.

So after I hung out at coffee for a while, I had lunch with a friend from work. Which was tasty, and it was nice to have time to catch up. And then I started Day 2 of BikeQuest 2010. Larry and I reconvened (after I stopped by my parents', because they were worried. Maggie was acting like she wasn't feeling very well and her nose wasn't cold enough) and were headed to Western Nowhere, NC, to look at a Honda Nighthawk, when he was like, um, have you ridden Jen's yet? Maybe we should do that before we drive all the way to WN.

I hate it when he's all logical.

So I called Bill, because Jen was up on a ladder. I asked him, he asked her, and of course, Jen was like "Sure!! Come on over!" Because she's just that awesome. Bill had the bike all pulled out for me, but it was facing the wrong direction. So, okay, I hop on, mess around with the clutch a little to find the "friction zone" (the spot where the clutch engages and it starts moving the bike forward when in first gear) and I'm turning the bike around....and it's turning...and it's turning...and it's leaning...anditsleaninnnnnng......and boom. I'm down. Under the bike.

As usual.

Okay, fine. We got it back up. They bravely put me back on it. I get the thing moving, and it's nice! I get to the cul-de-sac, I do a little turn. There's some shifting, there's some breaking, there's some leaning, no problem. Until, of course, I try to stop. And I put my foot down...and the ground isn't there. It's about two inches lower than I need it to be. And then it's leaning...and I'm trying to lean the other way but it's still leaning....aaaaaaaand I'm under the bike again.

Fuckin' a.

Apparently my head hit the curb when I went down that time - not hard enough that I even noticed it inside the helmet, but hard enough to make a noise that scared Jenny. So I crawled out from under the bike again. The boys got it back up. I did a lot of swearing. And we concluded the Nighthawk is too tall for me.

Well...okay. They concluded it was too tall for me. I concluded I was the worst rider ever. Although apparently I looked fine when the thing was actually moving, so on the whole, I consider it a win. But mind you, it took a lot of reassurance from Jen, Bill, and Larry that I actually did look fine while riding and my legs are just too damn short.

We went back to Larry's and I sat on his bike for a while. We concluded his was too small for me. I felt a little like Goldilocks. So which one is "just right"?

That remains to be seen. Since the bike I really wanted got sold, one bike we were looking at was just like Jen's and one was just like Larry's, and the fourth one was in South Far Away, NC, we scrapped the mission. I invited myself back over to Jen and Bill's, hung out there for a little while until I went and hung out with my folks for dinner. And it makes sense to wait a minute - I'm taking a mental health day tomorrow, and one of the things I'm doing is going to the DMV to get the M added to my license. So, after that, I can actually test drive the things myself (don't worry. I'll take one of the experienced people with me to do an actual test drive). Meanwhile, I keep watching Craigslist. And I continue to hope the Harley Davidson Fairy will visit in the night.

Biker babe

Nope, don't have one yet. But looking for a bike was the predominant activity of my day.

Had coffee this am. Made a side trip to this little local place which advertises the world's best BLTs. Had a BLT for breakfast. It was tasty, but I'm not sure I'd be quite so generous with the title (I mean, I haven't tried ALL the BLTs in the world, after all). Got into a complicated decision-making process about who was going with me. And ultimately, Larry - who's one of the most experienced riders in our group - and I wandered off in search of Kate's Motorcycle.

We started at the shop where I've gotten my gear thusfar. I sat on half a dozen bikes or so, messed with the pegs (which is the fancy biker word for pedals), clutched the clutch, played with the buttons. Found a few I liked, compared the ones I had on my radar from Craigslist. Then we went to the local Harley dealer, where I sat on my favorite bike yet (which was way too expensive). And then we hit another bike shop, where I sat on nothing but got a lot of helpful advice. Which was...well, helpful.

We finally ended up back at Larry's apartment, with me sitting on his bike. Which, actually, I liked. But then we stood around yapping for a while. So long that the skittish little neighborhood stray hopped right up on the bike.

This would be the same neighborhood stray that Larry's been trying to convince me to take as a pet. I was very resistant to this idea, even thought Maggie would LOVE LOVE LOVE a cat (Maggie's a cat person). I'm allergic. And I don't need another animal to worry about, nor another expensive thing in my life (the bike will be enough). And I don't really like most cats. I'm a dog person. Right? Right.

Except my resolve is wavering since I met the cat.

(I do not need a cat. I do not need a cat. I do not need a cat.)

He's awful cute, though, isn't he?

You know those days....

...when, no matter what you do, you feel like you absolutely, positively, totally, and completely CANNOT do anything right?

Yep. Been one of those.

Not wordless....

...but I can't get this damn song out of my head...

BEEP! BEEP!! BEEEEEEP!

It's the most irritating part of my job.

That noise my pager makes. During hours I'm not supposed to be working.

I'm wishing right now that I'd gone into one of those specialties that boasts a "pager-free lifestyle" (although I don't think any of them ever really do, especially not as a resident).

That's alls I'm going to say about it. Except this: I REALLY AM NOT INCOMPETENT! And this is not an emergency!! And I really don't want to talk to Patient Relations at 8:30pm.

I should really start leaving the damn thing in my car. Except I'm too hypervigilant about my patients...

At least I have Maxine to keep things in perspective....

Best foot forward

Look! It's my right tootsie!

It was a long day. I actually had a whole other blog post written, but then decided that I didn't like it. So I'm posting an x-ray of my foot instead.

Which, incidentally, still hurts. ::whimper::

Time for some ibuprofen and snuggling in bed with my puppy....

Success

So, I've spent the last two days riding in circles (and weaves, and s-curves, and over 2x4s) around a parking lot. On a very badly abused motorcycle. I dropped the 300-lb Kawasaki Eliminator on my foot. Twice, in fact. I stalled the bike out at least three hundred MILLION times, and I don't even know how. And yet, I'm currently in possession of a card that will allow me to walk into the NC DMV, take a ridiculous written test, pay $10, and then have a Class M endorsement on my license.

And then I can legally ride a motorcycle on the streets of North Carolina.

Hey, I didn't say I'd ride it well.

Nah, I did okay. I mean, I passed, after all. And my instructor commented that I came a long way (I can only imagine what I looked like yesterday!). Of course, he told me this during the talk when he said specifically to me, "You need to get a bike. You need to start riding. You need the practice."

I didn't love it the way I'd expected to. I think that I will, actually, but he's not wrong that I need practice. I went in thinking, "How hard can this be?" and left thinking "Holy shit, that's hard work!" I expected to be a natural. Why, I don't know, because it's not like I'm a natural at walking or anything requiring balance. But I expected handling the bike to be a lot easier. I'm wicked sore today - in my back, my thighs...oh, yeah, and my foot.

Right? Because my feet weren't messed up enough.

So I was trying to come to a stop yesterday and I think I had the handlebars turned when I hit the front brake. And I dropped the bike. It just got away from me. Unfortunately, I didn't quite get away from it. The engine (read: the heavy part) fell on my foot, and of course the first thing I thought was Shit. I just broke my foot, didn't I? But I pulled it out and put some weight on it and it hurt, but it was stable.

So what did I do with my potentially broken foot? I got back up on the bike.

Okay, and I cried a little bit.

But I got back in line and I stuck it out for the next five hours. I went out to dinner with Jen and Bill for moral support ("I'm the worst rider ever!" "Uh, no, let me tell you some stories..."). I came home and took some ibuprofen. And I woke up at 4:30 am (thanks, Daylight Savings Time) with a very sore foot.

So I made the time calculations around 5, and figured I could probably make it through the ER in time to get to class if the dumb thing wasn't fractured. So I packed up my gear and went to have the foot looked at. It went a little something like this:

Front desk nurse: How can I help you? 
Me: I think I might have broken my foot.
FDN: How?
Me: I dropped a motorcycle on it. 
FDN: What part?
Me: Well, the pain's in the lateral -
FDN: No, I mean, what part of the motorcycle?


So it turns out both he and the resident who treated me rode. I had an x-ray and a very nice chat with the doc about what sort of protective gear I should get. Which started with "You need to get you some damn boots."

He warned me to be careful out there and offered me some painkillers I didn't take. And then I got in my car and headed towards the community college, all the while arguing in my head about whether or not I should go to class. But my foot hurt! But it wasn't broken. Was I using that as an excuse to not go back? I could've quit. Easily. I almost did. I mean, I'd already decided to take the class again in the spring. So why bother?

But my stubbornness prevailed. I got coffee and more motrin and I sucked it up. Although I dropped the bike again, doing pretty much the same thing. I thought about leaving then. I thought about leaving several times after that. After all, I had such a great excuse...

But I stayed.

And I'm glad I did.

By the end of the day, it was a lot more enjoyable. I felt a lot more comfortable, even on my crappy bike. The anxiety abated a bit. Things started making more sense. Leaning into the curve was actually a lot of fun.

And so, we'll see. I'm going to look at bikes soon. I'm going to think about what I want and what I can handle skillfully, emotionally and fiscally. And either way I've got the M on my license. Go me!

Start your engines....

Today blew.

But tonight was my very first MSF motorcycle riding and safety class. Four hours tonight, and then ten hours each tomorrow and Sunday. It's a lot to pack in to a weekend! Tonight was all classroom, and made me anxious about the whole process. I'm a little bit worried my whole left-right dyspraxia issue (read: I sometimes can't tell my right from my left). I'm a little bit worried I won't be coordinated enough to do the whole both-hands-both-feet thing. I'm a little bit worried about falling down. I'm a little bit worried about going too fast.

But I'm also a lot excited. Yay! Motorcycles tomorrow!!!!

Clogged

So one of my patients looks at me the other day and says, "You know...I love long hair on a woman."

It was a wildly inappropriate thing to say, yes, but it's not a narrowly held sentiment. In fact, part of the reason I grew my hair back out to its current almost-at-my-waist length is because a guy I was kind of dating when I had short hair saw old  pictures of me and said, "Damn, that hair is hot as hell." And, you know, I like it better this way, too.

But here's the thing - it's not all Pantene Roses and Redken Dreams.

A, it gets tangled up in everything. Two, I shed like a fiend, and it's a lot more noticeable. But, three...you will not believe what came out of my shower drain tonight.

And on a related note, it's time I got a man.

Not that I wasn't wildly successful at unclogging my shower drain tonight with a makeshift coat-hanger-turned-pipe-snake-hair-puller-outer-thingy. There's no longer four inches of standing water at the end of my shower. I won't be constantly slipping on the conditioner residue for at least the next couple of months. But I would greatly have appreciated being able to twirl my long auburn locks around my finger and say, "Honeeeeey...."

Oh, who am I kidding. Any man attached to me would've been handing me the pliers.

Bagel Wednesday

There's clearly something wrong with me...

I'm wrapping bagels to put them in the freezer (I brought home two dozen, which I distributed between friends and family and my tummy, except for the last eight) (and no, that's not what's wrong with me, be patient) and I'm humming to myself, and suddenly I bust out with this song:



From Sophomore Madrigals. Sixteen years ago. And I don't remember it being in German. But I'm sure we sounded just as good.

Still, it's pleasant, and I thought I'd share. 

It was a long ass, 12-hour day today. Which was supposed to be longer, because I was supposed to meet Gomer at 7. But I told him I had a meeting. I barely slept last night and my knee hurt and I couldn't handle the gym tonight. So we try again next week.

Oy. What a day. I'm so not ready to be back at work.

The Week at (some) Length

So I'm home from New York.

It was such a good week.

Let's see, I left you last on Sunday night....

Monday Buie and I hit Long Island. Really? We ate New York. We had bagels for breakfast (how did I not know about these? Long Island bagels are, like, unbelievably good).We had New York pizza for lunch. We went to a diner for dinner. SO yummy. In fact, I ate a lot of New York staples over the next week. Damn, that's good food up there.

We also hung out, caught up, visited her sister (whom I know) and her brother (whom I hadn't met yet, but have been hearing about for years, from both her and her mom). We got mani-pedis. It was lovely. We met her boss for dinner, too. She's a hoot. In that "hoot is code for crazy" kind of way. But it's a generally good crazy.

Oh, my gawd, I'd forgotten just how much I missed Buie. But I pulled up to her house and it was like I'd seen her yesterday. You know how you have those few friends where you could literally not see each other for five years and then just pick up right where you left off? Buie's also one of those very few people with whom I can be totally and utterly myself - not just the good stuff, or just the neurotic stuff, but all of it, plus that little bit of really well-hidden crazy I rarely let anyone in on besides my therapist.

I also got to meet Buie's husband, whom I never had. He's very tall (Buie not so much). I liked him. Not a big talker, but an affable guy. And I met his dad, too, which was amusing.

Tuesday was my first day of the conference. WHICH WAS HUGE. Three floors of conference rooms full of Child Psychiatrists! It was so good, though. SO good. Did I mention the good part? And I had falafel off the falafel truck. That? Also so good. And I did a really good job with the whole public transit thing. Like, even I was impressed with the cleverness of me, what with the whole LIRR to the MTA and then walking a mile to the Hilton in a city I'd never seen before. Without getting mugged or looking (too much) like a tourist.

Here's your Wordless Wednesday:

Thursday was a very triggering morning at the conference, even though I went to the BEST talk of the whole week. I left early and sat in Central Park for a while (so soothing) before getting back on the subway. But you know what I really loved about Thursday? Meeting Barb!!! In real life!!! Like, face to face. Once again, it was as if I'd known her for years ('cause I have). I walked into her house and immediately it was like I'd been there a million times. We played with the dogs and hung out and then we had dinner with her daughters. Oh, my gosh, it was the best. AND she even gave me SOCKS!!!

Love.

We also worked on her daughter Jane's Halloween costume. She was a giant green gummi bear. It was hilarious and way too much fun. I mean, really, any time there's a glue gun and duct tape involved - especially lime green duct tape - I'm there. Oh, my gosh, and the dogs - Austin is SUCH a love. So cuddly! So hyper!! Such a lab puppy!! Scout tried to eat Maggie at one point, but they got over it. I loved 'em.

Friday was conference-y. And then I came home and played with the dogs until Buie got home. That night I met some of Buie's crazier friends.

Did I mention the dogs?? I LOVE HER DOGS. She has two Vizslas (they're Hungarian pointers), Rusty and Buddy. They're just adorable. The first night I was there, Buddy, the older one (he's three), came up and burrowed under my covers and slept with me all night. He kept that up for several days, actually, until Buie locked him in with her at night (I would've done the same thing if Maggie had abandoned me). Maggie and Rusty (he's two, and the more puppyish of the two) played and wrestled and ran and chased all week. She and the boys got along famously. And I...I mean. I just adored them.

(Buddy's kind of my favorite. Don't tell Rusty. But Buddy's sort of an old soul...)

There were such awesome dogs on this trip....

Saturday was more Long Islandishness. AND we went back to the long side of the island (yeah, I made that up) and hung out with Barb some more. Buie and Barb? Clicked right away. The three of us had a good, good time. And then Saturday night we hung out with Buie's boss again. And her dog! Hilarity ensued.

Sunday...I didn't leave as early as I'd planned. We got some bagels to take home, we got a present for Peng (who was AWESOME and covered me for the week), we got into an amusing situation with a crazy bird lady. We ran a couple of errands. And then...I had to leave. I mean, I had to.

We'd stalled as much as we could. I apparently tried to leave half my stuff there (I still can't find my deodorant). I hugged the dogs like three hundred times.

It was really hard to leave New York.

I mean, I'm glad to be back to my people and my life and my own bed. And today I ran around and got some things done and saw my shrink and my supervisor and my chiropractor. But there was a distinct lack of Buie, Barb, and Buddy (and Rusty, even if he doesn't alliterate. And Austin. And Jane and Ana. And even Scout).

Thanks for a great week, NYC!!

The week in a nutshell

I didn't have regular internet access.

Mags and I had an awesome time. We're both pretty sad to leave our friends (both human and canine) in NY. The conference was also useful.

But, alas, we are both pretty worn out from the drive home. Fortunately I had the forethought to take tomorrow off as a vacation day, so I'll fill you in on the week tomorrow.

Lawn Guy Land

So I'm in New York.

What should've been an 8-ish hour drive turned into a TWELVE HOUR TRIP with traffic. Holy crap.

But now I'm at Buie's. She's like the best hostess ever and even if I haven't seen her for reals in 5 years it's like no time has passed. Except she's married and I'm a psychiatrist, little things like that.

It's one am. I really need to go to bed. We're going for real NY bagels in the am and then kicking around the Island. And, of course, plotting my journey into Manhattan on Tuesday for the conference....

Procrastination

I didn't get nearly enough done today.

Ah well.

Tomorrow I leave for NYC for a child psychiatry conference (don't rob my house. People have keys, and I'm underpaid, so there's nothing there worth taking, anyway). I'm pretty excited. The conference should be really good. AND I've never been to New York City before, except for a two hour layover at JFK. AND I'm staying with my good friend Buie, whom I haven't seen in like a million billion years. AND I get to see my friend Barb, whom I've never even met in person! AND Maggie gets to come to NY with me. AND...um...did I mention I'm really excited?

I'm also not really packed yet...

I'm a little anxious, and it's been getting in the way, frankly. I've never been to NYC before. I haven't been to a child psych conference before. I don't know what to do with all those child psychiatrists! There's going to be like a bazillion people I don't know. Not to mention, the last time I went to a national conference was right before my life fell apart in NH. Which....okay....this is a whole different time. And a whole different life. And, okay, I'm pretty good at dealing with people I don't know.

I'm just wishing I was feeling a little better about myself these days.

One thing I did manage to accomplish today (after spending like three hours at the coffee shop) was procuring motorcycle gloves. My riding and safety course is the weekend after I get back, so today Larry and I went shopping for the last item required for the course (he needed winter riding gloves, too). We spent way too much time trying on the same four pairs of gloves. I decided faster than he did, though, and wandered over to look at armored jackets (which were surprisingly more reasonably priced than I thought). I promptly got stuck in one when the zipper malfunctioned. He couldn't get me out of it. I finally got it off over my head. It was really comical. And I was hesitant to try on any others, but I think I found one I like. I took a picture of the tag and tucked that away for later. But in the midst of all this, I'm being all neurotic and anxious, and I keep pointing out my anxiety and neurosis. And Larry finally tells me, "You know you're no different from anyone else, right?"

It was, perhaps, a little bit of the pot calling the kettle neurotic. But it was a nice reminder, too, how we all have a little bit of crazy.

One of these days I'll really be able to own mine. I think that's the goal, you know? Not to eliminate it, of course - it's what makes us who we are - but to work with it. To reduce distress.  It's what I do professionally, and it's what I'm trying to do personally.

It's kinda tough....

And this is partly why I voted for him.

Think Dubbya would've ever taken the time to make a statement like this? Or even thought about it in the first place. I'm going to guess not.

Continuing our theme this week of disarming bullies, I give you, the POTUS.

Coming up

It really does.

Honest.

There was a push today to wear purple in support of those LGBTQIA kids who get bullied and harassed at school. And, by extension, all kids who get bullied.

It was a timely day for one of my patients. His sexuality is still mythical, from what I can tell. But he's an easy target for bullies. In fact, I'm pretty sure I knew this kid in high school - we all did. Introverted, sensitive, socially awkward. Keeps to himself, so there's no one to stick up for him. Doesn't fight back, so he just keeps taking it.

Until, one day, he won't. I'm worried about what that means.

My hope is that he'll use therapy, learn to say, "Yeah, you people are insecure, and fuck you all, I'm fine," and get on with his life (remember when I said I knew this kid in high school? I still know this kid as an adult. He's done quite well for himself). But there's other possibilities. At best, he limps along, holds it together, emerges on the other side intact. At worst? That's the stuff that keeps shrinks and parents up at night. The kids that externalize take guns to school in their trenchcoats and shoot up the school. The kids that take it to heart? Kill themselves.

I don't like either of those options.

So, today, on purple-people-against-hate-and-bullying day, I gave him the "It gets better" talk. The "everyone in high school (even the kid you think is perfect) feels bad about themselves and awkward sometimes". I say, do you believe me? He says, no. I say, then I'll have to keep telling you. Don't give me words, give me proof, he says. I think about this, and then I tell him, "Look. I'm in 26th grade. I survived. Every one of us survived. It wasn't easy for any of us. I promise you, it will get better."

I still don't think he believed me.

When did I become "that" grown-up?

I'm not one for cheesy pep talks, really. Especially not in therapy. But it seemed to fit today. I don't know if he heard it, but I really wanted to tell him, I'm here for you. I really wanted to give him some hope.

Because, no matter what the bullies say - whether they're in the locker room or the boardroom - just because someone says something, especially something meant to keep you down, doesn't mean it's true.

Just keep moving. It really does get better.

Mousey business

Dear mice who were previously living in my house:

I know there were a bunch of you. I've given up my "lone mouse on the grassy knoll" theory.

But REALLY.

There has only been minimal evidence - ONE TINY HOLE in a bag of organic turbinado sugar. TINY - that you ever were in my kitchen. You don't seem to have eaten anything.

So why is there mouse poop EVERYWHERE in my basement? I haven't seen any new poop, which makes me think you've relocated to the neighbors'. Okay. But every time I look somewhere I haven't previously? More damn mouse crap.

It's disgusting. And I hate it.

Alls I'm sayin' is, watch your step. I have friends. With cats. And you know how badly Maggie wants a cat.

Cheers,

Kate

Intern, turn, turn

So I'm playing intern again today.

We sent our actual interns to the beach this weekend. Unfortunately, it's pretty cold here in NC. But I bet they're having fun anyway.

I, on the other hand, am not at the beach. I'm sitting in the Neurology call room waiting for the 8pm shift change. Which isn't so bad.

I mean, except for this, in the shower...

And the mousetraps in the call room itself.

What is it about me and roaches and vermin?

Although....look at the publisher of the bottom book. That, at least, cracks me up.

It's been interesting. I haven't actually been on a non-psychiatric service in, what, over two years? And I think my neuro month was about three years ago. I was really anxious about this morning. Turns out, of course, I needn't have been worried. It's like falling off a bike.

I forget sometimes, too, what a difference it makes to be a senior resident. I was thinking earlier about my first day on Neurology as an intern. As luck would have it, it was also my first day at Baby Blue. Ever. There was supposed to be someone replacing the anesthesia intern, so they told me, hey, don't worry about it. But of course, that person didn't show up until Tuesday. Suddenly? Oh. Hey. Could you cover his patients? Just go see them and write notes. Don't worry too much about it.

Yeah. Right. Not to mention, I had no idea how to use the computers here. I couldn't remember how to write orders. I'd totally forgotten my log in for the electronic medical record.

I sat in the workroom, right off the nurses station, trying not to cry. I was absolutely determined to figure this out. I called the help desk. I dove in. And, of course, I figured out enough to get by. They were happy.

Of course, that didn't actually address that I knew practically NOTHING about neurology. Recovering gynecologist, remember?

But it turned out to be a pretty good month. I had good attendings and reasonable residents and my co-intern was AWESOME. I had a nice white cloud for call. I caught some really interesting cases. And generally, I had a good time. Notably, I was the only one in my class who actually liked their neuro month...

So, today? Not so bad. And I get two days off in compensation for this, one of which I'm taking tomorrow.

Which is useful, because I could really use some sleep. Yesterday was loooong. I went for coffee, then did the headless chicken thing preparing for Cleo's not-a-baby-shower (nothing like doing it all in the last few hours before the party, you know?). Then, of course, was the actual not-a-shower. Which was a lot of fun. Fewer people actually showed up than had RSVP'd, but we had lots of fun, even if there was too much cake (is there such a thing?).

I ran home, showered, ran and picked Maggie from my folks', ran to drop her off at home, and then ran to Jen and Bill's. A bunch of us went to a not-so-local haunted house last night.

I'll be honest. I had significant reservations about this. We didn't leave until 7:30 pm, which I knew was not going to get me home at any reasonable hour. I was crabby and wanted to hide from the world before I even got to Jen and Bill's. And, let's be frank - PTSD girl in a Haunted House? Not necessarily the best idea. But I like my friends. And it's fall. And really, why be responsible?

It was okay. I enjoyed the time with my people. The Haunted House itself was pretty good. The headless horseman rode up on a real horse! I, however, spent too much time figuring out what was going to jump out at me from where, which figures were props and which ones were people. I don't really relish that feeling. I don't really like being scared - it brings up too much. I don't like people getting up in my face. It was reassuring knowing that they weren't allowed to touch me, but they came closer than a bratty younger brother in the backseat who's "not touching you! Not touching you!". On the whole, thought, it was fine. And I enjoyed the drive there and back and the silliness waiting in line (for-ev-er). And my friends were pretty amusing to watch going through the haunted house.

I did get insulted by a redneck zombie, though. He came up to me and said, "Looks like we could feed on this one for a couple of months." I was pretty pissed about that. In fact, I'm still kind of pissed about it. But, then again, he did invite me to stay for dinner....

Cozy

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.

Sadness

We got some sad news at work today. My friend's niece drowned in their family pool. This is the same friend whose father died not long before my mom's stroke.

Cleo and Olga and I had lunch out on the patio today in an effort to regroup. We were talking about how we all walk around in such significant denial about the tenuous connection between life and death, how at any moment any of us could be gone, the ones we hold dear could be taken from us. But, we have to, you know? Because otherwise we'd take to our beds in fear and never leave...

Our thoughts and prayers are with his family tonight. Meanwhile, hug 'em if you've got 'em.

Happy National Coming Out Day

Yeah, I'm straight, but I've long sympathized with the LGBTQIA community, even back when it was just called "gay people." I feel for their inability to change who they are, and that society will tell them they're defective for it. Did you know that you can still be fired from your job in 29 states for being lesbian, gay or bisexual and in 38 states for being transgender? This is 2010, people.

Twelve years ago I spent a morning washing off hateful graffiti from our college campus. That day was the only day in my four years there that our daily Chapel service was canceled. Instead, we had an anti-hate rally. Not pro-gay, not anti-anti-gay, just anti all forms of hate. I was so impressed with my little, conservative, religious Midwestern university.

What I was not prepared for? Was the number of people I thought I knew, liked, and respected that declined to participate. They couldn't condone that, they said. Someone very important to me at the time stated he couldn't get behind that, and besides, he was junior faculty, he couldn't be seen at something like this. Two hours later I was standing on the lawn holding hands with my physics professor - even more junior faculty - singing We Shall Overcome. I learned a lot about some people that day that I would have rather not known.

Meanwhile, now, over a decade later, in 20-fucking-10, there's a growing epidemic of suicides among GLBT teens and young adults. There's still so far to go, my friends.

We shall overcome. Someday.

Not enough weekend

It's been busy. It's been fine. It's been full of good friends.

Met my new trainer this morning. Kit. Yep, Kit and Kate. She's perky.

Dug through the storage unit for an hour in 80 degree weather later.

I need more weekend.

But I have a 7am patient, so I reeeeeeeeeeeeally need to get to bed! More tomorrow. I'm working on a substantive post in my head.

Sated

Psychiatry Book Club tonight. Had a WONDERFUL time. Did lots of arguing with Scott. Pulled Sonia into it. Great contributions from the underclass residents. It was very much a success. Also? There was good Indian food involved. Can't go wrong there, unless their buffet is both expensive and expansive and you all end up eating too much and have to drive home with your (new, stiff) jeans unbuttoned.

Just sayin'.

But now it's 11pm and I'm a sleepy Kate...

Who knew?

It's National Depression Screening Day.

Which, frankly, is every day in my world.

(Click here or here for a link)

Mind your mental health, people.

Orton Pup

I know it's Tuesday, but...

Love is in the air.

No, sadly, not around here. But as a child of the '80s (and thus a teen of the early '90s), I couldn't help but totally love this:

Today...

...not so good.

I'm not really sure why, to be honest. It was just...difficult.

I think it's still part of my Crisis of Something. But wow am I in one of those awash in your emotions, stuck all up in your head, mulling over life kind of funks.

And I have a 7am patient tomorrow. So I'm going to bed on old lady time.

It may just be a matter of time, really....

...until I buy a donorcycle.

Relax, not this weekend. But I've been thinking about it for about ten years, and now I've known people who've ridden that long, and also now that I have a lot more bikers in my social group, I have a better appreciation for the benefits of safe riding techniques, good gear, etc, etc. So....I'm still thinking about it.

The weather was beauuuuuuutiful in NC today. Cool, clear, gorgeous fall day. Garth and Larry had been planning a ride today, and I half-jokingly invited myself along. Until they both were like, "Um, yeah, why don't you come with us?"

So, I did.

They warned me it was going to be long. I said, okay. They warned me it was likely to be fast at times. I said, great. We devised a plan for how to find me if I got lost. They suited up, I opened the sunroof and rolled down all the windows. And off we went.

We had a hell of a good time.

The drive was absolutely gorgeous. I'm hoping we can do that again in a couple of weeks when the fall colors have really developed (I may try to con my way onto the back of someone's bike for that, actually, but the Jeep really was excellent). The roads were a little twisty and the countryside was quaint and it was very pleasant.

We ended up at this lake, first driving across the dam that held the lake in. It was incredible. The view was absolutely spectacular. We stopped for a while to admire the view, and in the midst of that whole sitting out looking at the lake thing, I commented, "I didn't even know we had a dam."

Garth said, "Virginia has a dam."

Hmm, well, good for Virginia, I thought, kind of wondering what that had to do with anything. We enjoyed the scenery for a bit longer and then saddled back up, and were off again until we got lost. This ultimately entailed pulling off at a visitor's center (that was closed, but the boys TOTALLY got credit for stopping to ask directions) and fussing with my GPS, which Larry was messing around with and got somewhat discombobulated so I took it back and hit the "My Current Location" button. And made quite a discovery.

"SonofaBITCH!" It suddenly dawned on me. "We really ARE in Virginia!!"

They both looked at me like, um, yeah. Don't you remember the big "Welcome to Virginia" sign??

Totally missed the sign. Apparently saw the one next to it that said radar detectors were illegal, but missed the giant one announcing I was passing into a whole different state.

We made a pit stop shortly after that revelation as one of the bikes needed filling up and all three of us needed draining, so we stopped at this little gas 'n' go kind of place. So I walk into the little general store, and of course the first thing you see coming through the door was the display of ammunition, fireworks, and liquor. There was also a large tub full of minnows and fishing poles hanging from the ceiling. It was...quite an experience.

This led to more fun being poked at the city girl, of course...

But we made it back and the drive back was also just as lovely. We stopped at a local place for beers and a late lunch (since it was about 4pm by this point) and some good conversation.

I finally made it to the gym after that, came home, spent a really long time trying to comb the knots out of my hair from having the windows open in the car, and then made my way back to Jen and Bill's. Maggie got to come too, and she and Eddie had a wonderful time running around and exploring the backyard. Jen, Bill, Leigh, Garth, Garth's son, and I sat around the fire pit and enjoyed the crackling fire and the yummy, yummy s'mores, and a couple of other friends joined us later. Once again, good time, good company, good conversation. And, of course, chocolate.

One thing (of many) that I love about this circle of friends is that, you know, I see them every single morning. You'd think that, being in the different life situations, different occupations, and being from different backgrounds that we wouldn't have that much to say  to one another. But we can still do things like spend an entire day together and still look forward to seeing each other at the coffee shop in the morning.

It's good. It's really, really good.

Blog's gone pink

No, no, this isn't some infectious overgrowth from the pink office. And I promise, it's just for the month.

October is National Breast Cancer Awareness Month. Now, I often complain about how much ridiculous pink-ness shows up in the name of Breast Cancer. I get mad about how damn much funding Breast Cancer Awareness gets (not research, they can have all the money they want, but the pink explosion). 1 in 9 American women gets breast cancer. 1 in 3 women worldwide (1 in 4 in America) will be sexually abused or assaulted.

I mean....talk about needing awareness.

But, given this past year....my aunt's diagnosis with Stage II Breast CA, her subsequent journey through chemo and radiation... my mom's diagnosis with Stage IV Breast CA, and the stroke that I still think resulted from it...

Looks like I'm jumping on the pink bandwagon.

Sick Leave

Yeah, I've been sick. As in, sick. Like, I wasn't awake for much of Wednesday, except when I kept waking up in a sweat trying to break my 102 fever. I still rattle when I breathe, but my temp is down to low-grade and I'm planning on going to work tomorrow.

So let me get caught up here...

Tuesday, my blog would've said something about how I came home early from work and was so not feeling good. And how I blamed Peng. Or Jen. Even though by then I was thinking it was the THING that everyone in the department has caught or currently has. And even though I work with both of them, it's hard to assign blame that specifically.....

Wordless Wednesday would've been a picture of my beautiful puppy enjoying the beach breeze.

And for Love Thursday, here's a couple of short lists.

5 Things I love about a sick day:

1. A completely legitimate excuse to get caught up on my DVR.
2. Strawberry Fruit 'n' Juice bars
3. My previous officemate, Peng, for covering the unit for me; Mike, for offering to not make me dump it on Peng; and my current officemate, Cleo, for doing her best to take are of me even though I wouldn't let her and that baby anywhere near my airspace. It's nice to know there are people down here who would come to my aid if things got any worse than the flu.
4. My nurse Maggie.
5. Really, really, really a lot of totally guilt-free rainy day naps.

5 Things I hate about a sick day:

1. That whole "being sick" thing.
2. Being quarantined away from my parents.
3. Missing our morning coffee roundtable (although - AHEM - I didn't see any of y'all offering to bring me soup. Just sayin'.), my friends, coworkers, and favorite patients.
4. Missing my Wednesday in Raleigh, which is my favorite day of work.
5. In the shower tonight (my first in a few days, I concede), I blew my nose (hush, you do it too). And popped my right eardrum in some sort of way that really pissed it off. So here I am, in the shower, with horrific vertigo. I can't stand up if I open my eyes vertigo. I tried to pop my ears again. I tried sniffing and blowing and poking at my ears and panting and everything else I could think of to dislodge that bubble, and yet nothing worked. I was about thirty seconds away from calling a friend of mine and saying "Help! I'm stuck in my shower!" when I realized - phone? Totally in the other room.

The moment when, while clutching to the wall and curtain and climbing out of said shower, the bubble finally popped? THAT makes the LOVE list. Whew!

Monday

Back to work. Back to therapy. Back to the weekly grind. But back to reality?

Not just yet.

Meanwhile, my throat feels like I gargled with acid. I blame Jen (the index patient in our Village, who are all sick or recovering at this point). Or maybe I still blame Peng (although she seems to be feeling better these days).

I need more weekend.

Crisis of...something

So, I apologize for the fact that the blog, of late, has sucked. No, no, it really has lacked my typical enthusiasm and investment. And I can pinpoint where this fell off, because I stopped blogging every day. And I recognize that as a symptom, not a causative factor. But even when I go back and read what I have written, it's not my usual level of attention to detail. For example, I've been misusing May and June's names for a month - May is a year ahead of me and older than June, which is why she's May. June is my classmate that just got married. You'll notice that I just married off May, which I'm suspecting neither May's wife nor June's husband would support. And Olga has had like seven different names.

The truth of it is, there's something not right with me. And to be perfectly frank, I'm not sure what it is.

Jen suggested this morning that I'm burned out. Which, yes, definitely a part of it. I don't know how I could be running a family care home and being a chief-ish resident and functioning as a very busy first year child fellow and trying to maintain some sort of social connections and working twice a week on a very difficult insight-oriented journey without burning the candle at both ends. I'm very overwhelmed by my life right now, which makes sense, because any single component could easily by itself be overwhelming. The family care home is sucking up a lot of my time and energy, but it ways that are sometimes reasonable. I don't know how to say "here's how you can help me" without it coming out as "stop sucking the life out of me." And sometimes it just has to be what it is, like Thursday, when I was cranky and restless and all I wanted to do was go home and sit in the quiet and make frozen pizza and watch NCIS and then go to bed at 8:00. But I got to my parents' and my dad was bleeding internally. Very reasonably, we changed direction and went to the ER. All the while, though, I felt like I was sitting there looking at the end of my rope.

But I used to be able to handle that a lot better. It would not have bothered me three months ago to anywhere near the extent that it did that my minimal plans for the evening were voided. So, yes, while I feel like there's a very significant chunk of caregiver fatigue in the mix here...that ain't all it is.

There's also probably a seasonal component - I'm VERY light responsive (some would say seasonal affective), and you might have noticed, the light is dying. I have a hard time getting up in the morning. I have a hard time staying up at night. I always, always get a little more depressed when the season changes, but it's much earlier this year. Typically that doesn't kick in until November or December. So something is sensitizing me this year.

I know there's some biological stuff going on as well. My thyroid hormone replacement is still clearly inadequate. My new - if tiny - medicine to address the stress-related borderline high blood pressure I've been having might be contributing. And there may be something more systemic going on, if my stiff, sore joints are any indication. Plus, I still haven't had that sleep study I need. Maybe I have sleep apnea, who knows, but more likely I think I have some sort of REM sleep disorder. I have these ridiculously detailed, highly affectively charged, absolutely EPIC dreams that go on and on and on and on, for literally hours. I have massive sleep inertia when I wake up in the middle of one of those epic voyages (seriously, Homer had nothing on me, and it definitely interferes with my quality of sleep. So I probably need to get that looked at.

In a psychoanalytic sense, it also occurs to me that I've doubly lost my holding environment. I had one here, in NC, away from my childhood and my old life and the painful things about that, a place where I could grow and individuate that authentic self, a distance at which I could appreciate the things I loved about my family and my life back home. But at the same time, I had a safe place to go back to if there was too much trouble here. Like, when the bottom fell out of my life at the Emerald Palace, what did I do? I ran home. Now, I have neither of those places.

But then there's this deeply existential piece. I feel like I've lost my sense of my identity over the last few months. Who am I? What am I doing? What am I becoming? All of those questions suddenly have tenuous and very nebulous answers all of a sudden. My self-concept has always been ruled by outside influences, and I think in becoming more aware of that, of trying to locate that which is more authentic, I've become aware of just how diaphanous is that by which I've defined myself. Winnicott talked about the false self, the ideal persona created which we present to the outside world. Trouble is, the harder I look, the less I feel confident that I can locate an authentic self-object in my internal world. It's somewhere in my shadow, which I cannot access readily, if at all right now. That's the point of therapy, indeed, but that doesn't make me feel any more whole right now. And I think the bigger issue is, there's a lot of affect that's been split off for a long time which is now trying to reintegrate itself as my self-awareness journey proceeds. And there are reasons it left - namely, like any split off affect, it was too painful to tolerate at the time. Now, though, I'm suddenly wading in it until my fingers are pruney. Which sucks.

(Psychobabble, psychobabble, psychobabble. Sorry, it's what I do.)

The point of all of this, I think, is that it just is. There's no quick fix, no magic pill, no right answer. So I just keep going along, keep my head in the game, keep telling the story as it needs to be told (I've been reading a lot about narrative psychiatry lately). I have to identify what my needs really are before I can meet them. And I can hope that my friends' patience with me is a model and reminder of how I need to be patient and kind with myself.

Uncomfortable though it may be, this too will pass. But the only way out is through.

A good baker could put me out of business...

Check this out (click to make it big and readable...)

If only cupcakes were the antidote to suicidality. Maybe they're lithium cupcakes?

Bleh.

Dad back in the hospital. Feeling better. Will probably come home tomorrow. I'm exhausted.

Fun with Piknik

Because it couldn't be all the germy kids on the Child unit...

I feel crummy.

I blame PenguinShrink.

I'm going to bed.

That is all.

Ode but good

Sometimes, psychiatry is a really tough job.

Those are the days I remind myself....at least I'm not a weather man.

Ode to Weathermen - watch more funny videos

Never once have I had to pick up a cat during a therapy session.

Another week down

Yeah, so, I didn't get too much done today.

Mags went with me to coffee this morning. Her boyfriend Eddie came along, too.

It does bother me a little that my dog has a steady and I...have a dog....

But nonetheless. Eddie - whose full name is Eddie the Neurotic Wonderdawg, if that tells you anything - was SUCH a good boy, and it was his first time at the coffee shop. They had fun together. The humans enjoyed it, too.

We got some lunch, I went to the gym....and then I'm not sure where the rest of the day went.

I had a really restless workout. Ten minutes on the elliptical, ten on the bike, ten on the treadmill, five on the rower, twenty on the other treadmill. Fuss, fuss, fuss. I came home, putzed around, finally got around to showering, did some laundry, did some dishes...I don't know why I'm so uneasy today...

I also missed the fact that it was the 19th, not the 18th, which is what I'd been thinking. Which means I also missed yesterday - as of yesterday, I've had Maggie for SEVEN YEARS! That's crazy!!! Also awesome. And lucky, I think, for both of us. She's the greatest dog ever. Even if she does have a better love life than I do...

So this is what it's like to be well-rested...

I slept twelve solid hours last night. And STILL nodded off for half an hour this afternoon watching NCIS.

God, I love a weekend.

So, I'm sorry it's taken me this long to blog again. I was at the hospital overnight on Thursday, and was planning on blogging from work, but then I didn't get to it. And then I was going to blog Friday and I fell asleep at 8pm. And so, now, it's Saturday....

Today was great, though. I got up, went to coffee, hung out for a long time. I really like my coffee friends. There were a couple of different waves of them today, which was nice, to see a few people I don't often see. I stayed there until noon, which was great. I went to the gym and saw a couple of friends and a GREAT workout. I picked up lunch and hung out with my folks for a while. Came home, had a nap, cleaned the house a little. Jen and Bill brought dinner over - Egyptian something made by Jen's ex-husband's mom. It was so good, and way healthy. And then we took Maggie out and got her some TCBY. Maggie made lots of friends at the yogurt shop.

Today made me happy. And there's a whole other day of weekend tomorrow!!

Pup and shadow

A plea for help

Alright, Blogville. I'm really itchy. I'm covered in this ridiculous rash that I think is an allergic reaction to some sunscreen I used last week. It's crazy itchy. Did I mention that I itch?

I've tried antihistamines, over the counter cortisol, and zinc oxide. Any other good itchy-type-rash remedies? I'm okay with weird ideas, I just need SOMETHING...

And yes, I'll go see a doctor Saturday if it's not gotten any better. But in the mean time....thoughts?

Saddle up

So I survived my first day back on the Child Psychiatry inpatient service. Rounds lasted for-ev-er (over half our service was new from the weekend), but aside from that, it was decent. I'm glad to be back on the inpatient psychiatry horse.

Peng and I did this focus group this evening, which was a new and different experience. It was us, six oncologists, and one rehab doc talking about how the state medical society could be useful to us. It really underscored the difference between the specialties and sets up a bit how the split of "us" and "them" arises. They complained about faltering NIH funding (a very valid concern); we were moaning about already dwindling state monies being allocated away from those who need it (we were all bitching about access to care). One of them spends four days a week researching leukemia in dogs. Which, if I - or for that matter, my dog - ever get leukemia, I would absolutely go to her. Her research has the potential to save lives. Meanwhile, though, I'm talking one of my adults off a ledge and trying to manage a kid who's been completely overmedicated by his community provider. Which, when you get down to the impact each of us makes, is equally important; my "life saving" efforts are on a more individualized scale, but they're relevant nonetheless. I totally felt like they - who work literally yards away from us - were way up in the ivory tower, while we were down digging in the trenches. It was an interesting perspective. And, I'm quite certain, not at all the point of the focus group.

Of course, by that analogy...the hospital Starbucks must be the entrance to the castle.

I'd always suspected as much......

Remembering

So it's been nine years since the towers fell.

I don't know if you've all been following this story about the "pastor" in Florida who'd been planning to burn the Quran to commemorate the anniversary.

I've been thinking all week about what I would say about this today. I continue to be without words to describe the disgust I feel over the very thought of this.

First of all, to do something like this in the name of Christianity offends me as a Christian. This, this is a travesty of misrepresentation. I have to ask myself, what would Jesus say about this? And how can anyone who purports himself as a man who serves a Christian God not ask himself the same question? What happened to turning the other cheek? Loving the sinner? Judging not lest ye be judged? Jesus was a peaceful man. He preached a message of love and tolerance. This? This is a disgrace to everything he stood for.

Unfortunately, misusing the ideals of Christ (or Allah, for that matter) is not a new idea. But still.

And as a human, this offends me even more. Non-fundamentalist Islam is one of the most tolerant religions out there. I don't want to be identified with David Koresh any more than they want to be identified with Al Qieda. To defile the sacred text of a whole culture in response to the actions of a group of misanthropic extremists is equally misguided.

I'm grateful they canceled the burning. I wish, though, it had been the result of thoughtful reflection, tolerance, and a desire for peace instead of at the intervention of an Imam, the President, and the Pope. I hope that we, as a people, can move forward in acceptance and consideration as we remember the past and look towards the future. As we remember the lives lost and lick our national wounds, I hope we can appreciate what is going on around us at this time. The reflection and sacrifice of Ramadan, the celebration and hope of Rosh Hashanna, the renewal and abundance of the Pagan harvest rites. I hope that we can someday share an earnest desire for peace and wholeness.

I doubt, though, that I'll ever see this in my lifetime. I hold certain beliefs about human nature, but continue to cling to a certain optimistic hope. It's all any of us can do to survive...

Jiggity Jig

I'm home again.

It was a WONDERFUL vacation. In fact, it was kind of like two vacations...

My coworkers came out for the weekend, of course. There were 22 of us, I think, in total, although a few were in and out through the weekend. It was such a good time. We hung out, played in the water, got silly, cooked good food, and generally enjoyed each others' company. We had kids this year, although just a couple, and one of them was the world's cutest baby (he was one of my roommates. The other was his mom). It was nice to have more of a family feel, and there was plenty of drunken wackiness that went on after the kids (and old fogies) were in bed.

The house was a-ma-zing. Huge, well appointed, comfy, oceanfront. Great views. Too many stairs for my messed up knee and ridiculous feet, but that was okay. Just a gorgeous, gorgeous place (which is good, because I've already booked it again for next year).

Monday I drove back with Scott and Mary (with whom I drove out on Friday), dropped them off, picked up the dog and my aunt and uncle, and headed back to the beach. We spent the rest of the week rattling around, just the three (well, four) of us in that gigantic house. We boogie boarded, grilled out, I laid and read in the sand and I napped on the couch. Maggie actually ventured into the water once, and was enjoying it until she got overtaken by a giganamous wave, and then that was the end of that. It was actually pretty adorable.

So now it's back to real life. I have a giant pile of sandy laundry and a weird rash which I think was from someone else's sunscreen I borrowed. But in more exciting news, I have a whole weekend still before I have to go back to work. And tomorrow is May's wedding!

Wordless tranquility

Weddingness

My aunt and uncle and I are having a great time at the beach. I promise some real content soon, but for now....my aunt showed me this. It's my cousin's fiancee's cousin's...something something something. And it's awesome.

Mags hangs out

First beachiness

Salty goodness

We made it to the beach.

In case you were wondering....

Beach tomorrow!! Beach tomorrow!! Beach tomorrow!! Beach tomorrow!! Beach tomorrow!! Beach tomorrow!! Beach tomorrow!! Beach tomorrow!! Beach tomorrow!! Beach tomorrow!! Beach tomorrow!! Beach tomorrow!! Beach tomorrow!! Beach tomorrow!! Beach tomorrow!! Beach tomorrow!! Beach tomorrow!! Beach tomorrow!! Beach tomorrow!! Beach tomorrow!! Beach tomorrow!! Beach tomorrow!! Beach tomorrow!! Beach tomorrow!! Beach tomorrow!! Beach tomorrow!! Beach tomorrow!! Beach tomorrow!! Beach tomorrow!! Beach tomorrow!! Beach tomorrow!! Beach tomorrow!! Beach tomorrow!! Beach tomorrow!! Beach tomorrow!! Beach tomorrow!! Beach tomorrow!! Beach tomorrow!! Beach tomorrow!! Beach tomorrow!! Beach tomorrow!! Beach tomorrow!! Beach tomorrow!! Beach tomorrow!! Beach tomorrow!! Beach tomorrow!! Beach tomorrow!

Squeeeeee!!!!

Stupid damn hurricane....

*whimper*

Tuesday Fragments

It's been a while since I did the whole "Friday Fragments" thing. But today was sort of all over, so it seemed fitting. Even if it is Tuesday.

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I spent a lot of time on the NOAA website today. I felt better. I now feel worse. The entire Eastern Carolina coast is under a hurricane watch right now. Seriously, if Earl invites himself along to our beach retreat, I'm going to lose my damn mind.
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I actually said the words today, "We had a big argument over Costco." That should just never be uttered.
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Hurricanes always remind me of a particular man from my past, who lived (lives? Who knows) in Hurricane Alley and allegedly threw a hell of a hurricane party. I learned more about hurricane proofing than I ever wanted to from him. Who knew it might actually turn out to be relevant?
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I got my stuff today for the conference I'm going to in New York in October. That made me a little giddy.
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Overheard on my walk in to work the other day (remember - hospital in the middle of a college campus): "I'm not sure this geology class is worth the half hour walk to class. I mean, I pass like fifty rocks on the way there, why not just study those?"
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Corny Joke #1 I heard at the Starbucks at work today: "Skeleton walks into a bar. He orders a beer and a mop."
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Corny Joke #2 I heard at Starbucks today: "Helium walks into a bar. The bartender says, hey, we don't serve inert gasses here! Helium doesn't react."
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Corny co-worker joke I heard today: "I bit into a pumpkin muffin and was like, 'wow, this is fantastic! Oh my gourd!!'"
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TV quote I love du jour: "Broken bodies are easier to mend than broken minds." From NCIS, about PTSD.
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Tomorrow my coffee shop is celebrating its 10 year anniversary. I'm excited about the discount. And wish them another 10.
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The hurricane is going to miss us. The hurricane is going to miss us. The hurricane is going to miss us. 
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I really like my coffee people. I'm a little bummer that after I get back I'm going to have to get to work earlier and not linger so long at the coffee shop in the morning.
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I really need to go to bed. I haven't been getting out of bed so well in the mornings...

All's well that's almost well

So I talked to the beach real estate people today. The previously screwed up beach house reservation? Unscrewed.

Oh, holy cow.

We have the super awesome beach house again. I have it for a WEEK! A weeeeek!!

In just three more days!

Now if I can only get the hurricanes to knock it the heck off....