Back in WV :-(
But now, for what you have all been waiting for....
My Big Fat Thanksgiving Dinner 2007 Edition!!
Arrived at my uncle Ray's house around noon. Unlike most dysfunctional family gatherings on Thanksgiving, there is no blaring television here. There is no football to distract us from our bitterness. No children to direct our aggression at. Worst of all, there are no pets to take for a walk when one just *must* escape.
Basically, once you walk in the door, you're trapped. It's just you, the low-carb cheese tray, and the family.
This year's cast of characters included a friend of my uncle's named Rich, who has been unemployed for as long as I've known him, does not drive, has no television, and is extremely eccentric (cough: crazy). Ray's wife invited her cousin, Barbara, who lives alone, has no visible source of income and is prone to moments of extreme emotion directed at people or events with which she has no personal connection.
There was also my aunt Joanne and uncle Marty, my mom, and me.
Marty was on Jamesons on ice #2 by the time we arrived. Joanne was engrossed in a dramatic telling of the tragedy of the denim skirt she tried to sew in high school, bu was too fearful to make the first stitch. This went on for nearly 30 minutes. The anxiety she had. What would have happened if she did something wrong? The feeling of failure for never having finished the skirt.
I remarked that it sounded like she was suffering from PTSD- Post Traumatic Sewing Disorder.
nobody laughed
Except my mom, who nearly spewed her Ginger Ale.
After the skirt story, it was just about time for dinner/lunch/breakfast. We sit down at the table (after the yearly discussion of where should everyone sit...only for us to sit in the EXACT SAME PLACES we have all sat for the last 15 years). Marty and Rich get into a heated discussion about 9/11 and the firefighters/policemen not wearing proper respiratory protection and how Marty worked oh so hard for 30 days with no days off with the EPA. And now the EPA is being blamed for their respiratory problems blah blah blah fucking blah.
I kept trying to change the subject. After all, the mashed potatoes hadn't even been put on the table yet! For Chrissakes! Save the conspiracy theories for the pumpkin pie!
Jamesons #3 also helped this along.
Poor Ray didn't speak at all through dinner. Every second of the conversation was either absurd, surreal, or angry.
Here are some of the topics we covered:
- the 2008 election and our mutual dislike of Hilary (a rare moment of agreement)
- the 2008 election and my family's dislike of Guiliani, while my mom and I say he's the only one who can beat Hilary and everyone else refusing to admit that and, thusly, getting upset with my mom and I
- Anger over one's father abandoning them when they were 5.....45 years ago.
-why all people with mental illness (of any kind) should be locked up in an "asylum". This happened because I mentioned I was on my psych rotation. I seriously wanted to pull out my Prozac bottle at that point and ask if that meant I should go find the nearest "asylum".
-why it isn't polite to call people with down's syndrome "Mongoloid" and why they should or should not be locked up in the aforementioned "asylum".
-"colored people" and their negative effect on the world
-joanne and marty's recent trip to a fancy shmancy restaurant and their very poor review of it- everything they hated about it made it sound more and more appealing to me. seasonal menu, great wine list, "tiny portions" ie really great quality food in normal human serving sizes, but not big enough for the fat asses of my family who prefer the biggie size value meal size dinners.
I think I'm going to try to talk more at christmas eve dinner. This might keep the conversation on a better track.
Poor ray didn't even speak at all until everyone except my mom and I left. Then he talked to us for about an hour. That was a nice, normal visit.
On a sad note, my great uncle Stanley's dog, Duke, died. He wasn't eating for a few days, so my mom took him to the vet yesterday. He was breathing fast and the vet hospital ran some tests. They found lots of fluid in his abdomen and they suspected cancer. I'm not a big advocate of putting these animals through all sorts of wild surgeries and chemo treatments only to extend their life by a month or two. $1500 just for the "tests" was enough to convince us it was time to let him go. Stanley is okay with it (Stan is 80 and has a home health aid because he is quite elderly), but now he wants another dog. Mom's mission now is to find him another golden retriever...preferably one who likes to watch Hockey and Football and doesn't expect too much activity. Duke seemed to fit that role perfectly.
I'm back down in WV and another week of fun starts tomorrow!
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Thursday November 22, 2007 10:29am
Got in from Buckhannon about 6:00pm last night.
Despite having already suffered through the flu and mono, someone has decided to bless me with a cold.
Snotfest!
Did you know that if you unknowingly swallow enough mucus, you stomach will reject it and make you want to vomit?
Did you also know that if you are on a diet and eat really well for a long time, and then eat a massive portion of Japanese food and assorted sushi rolls, you stomach will save you from spoiling the diet by just sending it all right on through without being fully digested?
Yay for explosive diarrhea!
On that note, it's Thanksgiving!
Roger just left to go back up to his parents' place. I am dressed and ready to go to my uncle's house in a bit.
As many of you recall, it is time for the fabulous Big Fat Thanksgiving Dinner!
Over the years, my family has shrunk. Surprisingly enough, it is not due to divorce or family feuds, but the old ones just keep dying off. It's the natural process of things, so I don't mind too terribly much.
That being said, our gathering this year will be approximately 8 or maybe 9 people.
My uncle invited Roger to come, but Roger is going up to his own family's dinner. Besides, I'd rather invite Roger to that part of my family for Christmas when it's at my house and under my control. (and yes, I fully admit that I am a control freak)
I will pay close attention to the events of today and will give you my full report when I return...complete with humorous inserts.
Happy Thanksgiving Friends!
Despite having already suffered through the flu and mono, someone has decided to bless me with a cold.
Snotfest!
Did you know that if you unknowingly swallow enough mucus, you stomach will reject it and make you want to vomit?
Did you also know that if you are on a diet and eat really well for a long time, and then eat a massive portion of Japanese food and assorted sushi rolls, you stomach will save you from spoiling the diet by just sending it all right on through without being fully digested?
Yay for explosive diarrhea!
On that note, it's Thanksgiving!
Roger just left to go back up to his parents' place. I am dressed and ready to go to my uncle's house in a bit.
As many of you recall, it is time for the fabulous Big Fat Thanksgiving Dinner!
Over the years, my family has shrunk. Surprisingly enough, it is not due to divorce or family feuds, but the old ones just keep dying off. It's the natural process of things, so I don't mind too terribly much.
That being said, our gathering this year will be approximately 8 or maybe 9 people.
My uncle invited Roger to come, but Roger is going up to his own family's dinner. Besides, I'd rather invite Roger to that part of my family for Christmas when it's at my house and under my control. (and yes, I fully admit that I am a control freak)
I will pay close attention to the events of today and will give you my full report when I return...complete with humorous inserts.
Happy Thanksgiving Friends!
Friday, November 16, 2007
November 16, 2007 5:06pm
Comfort bliss.
that's where I am right now.
Let me explain...
It doesn't take much to make me happy. A day off here and there is a good start. Some comfortable clothes, warm socks, a fluffy bed, and QVC is really all I need to be absolutely happy.
And today I have that. all of it.
I had today off, which meant I got to sleep in late and on clean sheets. Sigh. Simple pleasures.
And after a lovely day of cooking and baking, I am now relaxing in bed with my cookbooks, the internet, my bed, and, of course, my beloved QVC.
Some visuals for you....
Beef vegetable soup in the crock pot (I swear it smells a lot better than it looks right here)
A coconut-sweet potato cheesecake cooling in the fridge. Come over any time for dinner! And if anyone knows how to keep cheesecakes from cracking in the middle, please let me know.
My super fluffy warm bed with the extra pillows and blankets.
Of course, the socks.
Told ya I was happy!
that's where I am right now.
Let me explain...
It doesn't take much to make me happy. A day off here and there is a good start. Some comfortable clothes, warm socks, a fluffy bed, and QVC is really all I need to be absolutely happy.
And today I have that. all of it.
I had today off, which meant I got to sleep in late and on clean sheets. Sigh. Simple pleasures.
And after a lovely day of cooking and baking, I am now relaxing in bed with my cookbooks, the internet, my bed, and, of course, my beloved QVC.
Some visuals for you....
Beef vegetable soup in the crock pot (I swear it smells a lot better than it looks right here)
A coconut-sweet potato cheesecake cooling in the fridge. Come over any time for dinner! And if anyone knows how to keep cheesecakes from cracking in the middle, please let me know.
My super fluffy warm bed with the extra pillows and blankets.
Of course, the socks.
Told ya I was happy!
Thursday, November 15, 2007
November 15, 2007 10:10pm
So I'm sitting on my couch now, on the phone with Roger, watching the Democratic Debate on CNN.
I didn't start blogging until now because it has taken me a bit of time to glue the pieces of my head together after I had to slam it up against the wall. I also had some blood shooting out of my eyes in anger.
Some favorite moments...
Obama saying that we need to close Gitmo. And just leaves it at all. Um. Okay. And then do what? In his next breath, he said that we need to open schools in the middle east that don't teach hate, but instead teach math and science. As Roger pointed out, we couldn't stop a school in NYC from teaching Islamic fundamentalism, not to mention the fact that we have enough trouble with our own schools in this country...how are we going to open schools in the middle east and control what they teach?
I know! We'll take the people out of gitmo and have them teach at the new schools! Roger called it Gitmo U!
I also really liked the UNLV student who has the chance of a lifetime to ask a US Senator running for president one question. Just one question. What does this college student ask? "Senator Clinton, do you prefer diamonds or pearls?"
I want this bimbo's voter registration card revoked. Stupid people should not be allowed to make decisions like who becomes the next president.
The words "Universal" and "Healthcare" put together in the same sentence, when not followed by "is really really bad" make me nauseous.
Joe Biden said that if he is president, his Supreme Court nominee "would be" a woman. Really? Not the most qualified individual you can find? Not the person who would be best in the position? A woman. that's the big requirement? What if there's a man who is more qualified. You will sacrifice a position on the supreme court to someone who is less qualified just to have a vagina on the bench?
Wonderful.
And let's stop with the absurdity of calling illegals "undocumented workers". That's like calling a used car a "previously enjoyed" car.
Oh geez, now my head is starting to ooze apart again. I will write more another time.
I didn't start blogging until now because it has taken me a bit of time to glue the pieces of my head together after I had to slam it up against the wall. I also had some blood shooting out of my eyes in anger.
Some favorite moments...
Obama saying that we need to close Gitmo. And just leaves it at all. Um. Okay. And then do what? In his next breath, he said that we need to open schools in the middle east that don't teach hate, but instead teach math and science. As Roger pointed out, we couldn't stop a school in NYC from teaching Islamic fundamentalism, not to mention the fact that we have enough trouble with our own schools in this country...how are we going to open schools in the middle east and control what they teach?
I know! We'll take the people out of gitmo and have them teach at the new schools! Roger called it Gitmo U!
I also really liked the UNLV student who has the chance of a lifetime to ask a US Senator running for president one question. Just one question. What does this college student ask? "Senator Clinton, do you prefer diamonds or pearls?"
I want this bimbo's voter registration card revoked. Stupid people should not be allowed to make decisions like who becomes the next president.
The words "Universal" and "Healthcare" put together in the same sentence, when not followed by "is really really bad" make me nauseous.
Joe Biden said that if he is president, his Supreme Court nominee "would be" a woman. Really? Not the most qualified individual you can find? Not the person who would be best in the position? A woman. that's the big requirement? What if there's a man who is more qualified. You will sacrifice a position on the supreme court to someone who is less qualified just to have a vagina on the bench?
Wonderful.
And let's stop with the absurdity of calling illegals "undocumented workers". That's like calling a used car a "previously enjoyed" car.
Oh geez, now my head is starting to ooze apart again. I will write more another time.
Friday, November 09, 2007
November 9, 2007 6:14pm
Sorry I have not been updating.
I have been ill.
Really nasty ill.
About 2 1/2 weeks ago (though it feels like a month at least) I started feeling a little more tired than usual. Friday night I left the office with a mild sore throat, but didn't think too much of it. Saturday morning, I woke up bright and early to go to the hospital and check on patients and I could swear someone had killed me during the night, buried me, and the dug me up without my knowing.
I...hurt...everywhere. My hair hurt. My fingernails hurt. My liver! My liver! I was shaking, but I was hot, then cold, then hot, then cold. My throat hurt like I had razor blades in it.
But being the dedicated medical student that I am, I got myself dressed and went to the hospital to meet the doc. I rounded on the patients and waited for him in the Dr's Lounge (which is actually slightly larger than a walk-in closet, has a desk, 2 chairs, and a window in it....oooh, livin the high life!). He sees me and says, "You don't look so good."
Well, I don't feel so good. I told him about my strange illness. He said it sounded like I was getting the flu, but the F-word is a dirty word around hospitals. Nobody wants to be the first hospital in the area to have documented cases of the flu. Fine with me. I'm happy to be in denial.
We saw a few patients and then went to the critical care unit. There, I almost passed out when examining a patient. I had to sit down and get my balance again. Doc saw I was fading fast, so he didn't ask much of me. I was mainly his scribe. I took notes on patients and wrote down what he said. Then, standing by the nurses' station, he began shooting the breeze about the good old days and I was about to puke. I got that prickly heat feeling you get in your forehead and face just before you start the Lamaze breathing to keep from puking.
Yeah. And I turned pasty white. Well, more pasty white than I normally am.
Without even asking for permission, I just turned around and said, "I need to leave. I'm very sick." I swear if I had any friends up here I would have called them to come get me from the hospital because I was very unsure of driving the 6 blocks home.
But I did.
and I got into bed.
And didn't think I would ever leave.
I also did what ever 26 year old woman with almost 3 years of medical training, 6 years of EMT experience, and who lives within earshot of a hospital would do.
I called my mom who lives 500 miles away and begged her to come down to take care of me. She was planning to come down on Monday when she was on her way to Louisville to visit a friend. Unfortunately, she was on call and could not come down until Monday. Then I called Roger, who felt horrible and wanted to help, but couldn't from so far away.
I shivered and sweated and ached for two days. On Monday, I called out sick from the office but asked if I could come in to be checked. My throat hurt and I was sure my ear was going to explode from the amount of pressure behind it. I dragged myself into doc's office in my pajamas. He looked at my tonsils and decided I had strep. Much to his surprise, my strep test was negative, but he gave me an antibiotic anyway. He told me to take as much time as I needed off and "don't be a hero. come back when you're really ready."
considering this is the same doc who had a problem with my boobage, he was being very caring and understanding. I found a new respect for him.
Monday was a wash. Tuesday was lost. Wednesday I slowly began to recover. By Thursday I came in for a half day of work.
Mom returned to my house from Louisville by Friday and I had a nice weekend with her.
And then I got sick again by Monday. Monday night I wanted to die. I called Roger at 4am to tell him my throat hurt so bad and I could hardly speak. I communicated mostly in grunts and I couldn't swallow..only drool and spit. He was so upset I think he was nearly crying on the phone. He felt completely helpless being so far away from me.
Gross.
Tuesday morning I met doc in the hospital and told him what was going on. He even enlisted the help of another doc on the foor and then he walked me down to the lab to get some blood work. He suspected Mono and gave me an Rx for some steroid (yay for Prednisone!) and told me to go home and rest.
Within an hour I was even sicker. I was dizzy from the pain in my throat and couldn't move my tongue at all. I got my drugs and headed home. Called Roger to tell him what I was doing. He told me he was leaving work soon and would be on his way down. He couldn't stand to hear me being so sick and all alone, so he was leaving work for the rest of the week and coming down to me.
Sigh. I loved him so much in that moment.
He got here Tuesday night and will be leaving on Sunday. I've been able to get back to the office for half days the past three days. Doc has been very understanding about me being so tired and in pain. The official diagnosis seems to be Mono of unknown viral cause. I wake up every morning about 4:30 in excruciating pain. Roger gets my pills for me and holds me until I fall asleep. He runs errands for me and takes excellent care of me. Waits on me hand and foot when I'm in bed resting. Gets me water, pills, M&M's or whatever else I may want.
I am very blessed.
And it seems that I am slowly recovering.
I don't ever want to be sick like this again, though.
I have been ill.
Really nasty ill.
About 2 1/2 weeks ago (though it feels like a month at least) I started feeling a little more tired than usual. Friday night I left the office with a mild sore throat, but didn't think too much of it. Saturday morning, I woke up bright and early to go to the hospital and check on patients and I could swear someone had killed me during the night, buried me, and the dug me up without my knowing.
I...hurt...everywhere. My hair hurt. My fingernails hurt. My liver! My liver! I was shaking, but I was hot, then cold, then hot, then cold. My throat hurt like I had razor blades in it.
But being the dedicated medical student that I am, I got myself dressed and went to the hospital to meet the doc. I rounded on the patients and waited for him in the Dr's Lounge (which is actually slightly larger than a walk-in closet, has a desk, 2 chairs, and a window in it....oooh, livin the high life!). He sees me and says, "You don't look so good."
Well, I don't feel so good. I told him about my strange illness. He said it sounded like I was getting the flu, but the F-word is a dirty word around hospitals. Nobody wants to be the first hospital in the area to have documented cases of the flu. Fine with me. I'm happy to be in denial.
We saw a few patients and then went to the critical care unit. There, I almost passed out when examining a patient. I had to sit down and get my balance again. Doc saw I was fading fast, so he didn't ask much of me. I was mainly his scribe. I took notes on patients and wrote down what he said. Then, standing by the nurses' station, he began shooting the breeze about the good old days and I was about to puke. I got that prickly heat feeling you get in your forehead and face just before you start the Lamaze breathing to keep from puking.
Yeah. And I turned pasty white. Well, more pasty white than I normally am.
Without even asking for permission, I just turned around and said, "I need to leave. I'm very sick." I swear if I had any friends up here I would have called them to come get me from the hospital because I was very unsure of driving the 6 blocks home.
But I did.
and I got into bed.
And didn't think I would ever leave.
I also did what ever 26 year old woman with almost 3 years of medical training, 6 years of EMT experience, and who lives within earshot of a hospital would do.
I called my mom who lives 500 miles away and begged her to come down to take care of me. She was planning to come down on Monday when she was on her way to Louisville to visit a friend. Unfortunately, she was on call and could not come down until Monday. Then I called Roger, who felt horrible and wanted to help, but couldn't from so far away.
I shivered and sweated and ached for two days. On Monday, I called out sick from the office but asked if I could come in to be checked. My throat hurt and I was sure my ear was going to explode from the amount of pressure behind it. I dragged myself into doc's office in my pajamas. He looked at my tonsils and decided I had strep. Much to his surprise, my strep test was negative, but he gave me an antibiotic anyway. He told me to take as much time as I needed off and "don't be a hero. come back when you're really ready."
considering this is the same doc who had a problem with my boobage, he was being very caring and understanding. I found a new respect for him.
Monday was a wash. Tuesday was lost. Wednesday I slowly began to recover. By Thursday I came in for a half day of work.
Mom returned to my house from Louisville by Friday and I had a nice weekend with her.
And then I got sick again by Monday. Monday night I wanted to die. I called Roger at 4am to tell him my throat hurt so bad and I could hardly speak. I communicated mostly in grunts and I couldn't swallow..only drool and spit. He was so upset I think he was nearly crying on the phone. He felt completely helpless being so far away from me.
Gross.
Tuesday morning I met doc in the hospital and told him what was going on. He even enlisted the help of another doc on the foor and then he walked me down to the lab to get some blood work. He suspected Mono and gave me an Rx for some steroid (yay for Prednisone!) and told me to go home and rest.
Within an hour I was even sicker. I was dizzy from the pain in my throat and couldn't move my tongue at all. I got my drugs and headed home. Called Roger to tell him what I was doing. He told me he was leaving work soon and would be on his way down. He couldn't stand to hear me being so sick and all alone, so he was leaving work for the rest of the week and coming down to me.
Sigh. I loved him so much in that moment.
He got here Tuesday night and will be leaving on Sunday. I've been able to get back to the office for half days the past three days. Doc has been very understanding about me being so tired and in pain. The official diagnosis seems to be Mono of unknown viral cause. I wake up every morning about 4:30 in excruciating pain. Roger gets my pills for me and holds me until I fall asleep. He runs errands for me and takes excellent care of me. Waits on me hand and foot when I'm in bed resting. Gets me water, pills, M&M's or whatever else I may want.
I am very blessed.
And it seems that I am slowly recovering.
I don't ever want to be sick like this again, though.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
October 23, 2007 8:19pm
Here is what I have learned since starting my new Geriatrics rotation:
If you are a woman, do not under any circumstances even set foot in West Virginia. If you live in Maryland and need to drive to Ohio, pee in a bottle until you get there.
Do not stop in West Virginia!
There is something about the men here...they hate women.
I told you all about my last absurd preceptor who hates white people and women. Well, he's gone. I then had a lovely Peds rotation with a great doctor.
And now I have returned to Hell.
Let's call him Dr. Holy. We will call him this because I think he believes himself to be so. If you can get past the Christian soft-rock CD being played OVER AND OVER in his office, and the giant "Jesus Saves" posters at every single turn, it turns out he's really a total weirdo.
My first day- I wore black dress pans, black heels, and a blue v-neck shirt. I've worn this shirt on every other rotation I've had and never had any problems. 8am, I meet Dr. Holy in the hospital. Every time he speaks to me, he speaks to my chest. Weird. By 10am he says (and I quote) "Going forward, can you please wear something that doesn't show your cleavage. It's very distracting." WHO THE FUCK TALKS LIKE THAT? first of all, nobody else I've worn this shirt around has a problem with it. More importantly, you can't see any boob unless you're looking down my shirt from my angle!
Today, I wore a shirt with a scoop neck. What does he do? Spends the whole day talking to my chest again. What the hell is wrong with this man?
I'll tell ya what's wrong with him. Dr. Crazy was just, at his core, a self absorbed asshole. Dr. Holy, on the other hand...well...you spend so many years on the God Squad and some things start to get repressed. He doesn't have anything that couldn't be cured with his wife giving him a good blow job.
In the mean time, he has a boob obsession.
It goes beyond just my boobs.
He is the doc for the nursery at the hospital. So when a baby is born, he sometimes is the doc who examines the baby and talks to the mom, etc etc. Today he berated a mom for not breastfeeding. He stopped just short of telling her that she's a bad mother, but he did say that, "A really good mom who loves her baby would breastfeed her."
DUDE!!!!
He seems like the type of man who thinks women are just a tad beneath him. That women belong home with the children and their boobs and if you don't do that then there's something wrong with you.
Why does this shit keep happening to me?
I need to get home to NJ where people are less backwards!
On a happier note....
Roger is wonderful. Working hard, but that's what makes him wonderful.
I am blissfully in love.
I told my mom the other night that this is truly the first time I have wanted a marriage, and not just a wedding.
If you are a woman, do not under any circumstances even set foot in West Virginia. If you live in Maryland and need to drive to Ohio, pee in a bottle until you get there.
Do not stop in West Virginia!
There is something about the men here...they hate women.
I told you all about my last absurd preceptor who hates white people and women. Well, he's gone. I then had a lovely Peds rotation with a great doctor.
And now I have returned to Hell.
Let's call him Dr. Holy. We will call him this because I think he believes himself to be so. If you can get past the Christian soft-rock CD being played OVER AND OVER in his office, and the giant "Jesus Saves" posters at every single turn, it turns out he's really a total weirdo.
My first day- I wore black dress pans, black heels, and a blue v-neck shirt. I've worn this shirt on every other rotation I've had and never had any problems. 8am, I meet Dr. Holy in the hospital. Every time he speaks to me, he speaks to my chest. Weird. By 10am he says (and I quote) "Going forward, can you please wear something that doesn't show your cleavage. It's very distracting." WHO THE FUCK TALKS LIKE THAT? first of all, nobody else I've worn this shirt around has a problem with it. More importantly, you can't see any boob unless you're looking down my shirt from my angle!
Today, I wore a shirt with a scoop neck. What does he do? Spends the whole day talking to my chest again. What the hell is wrong with this man?
I'll tell ya what's wrong with him. Dr. Crazy was just, at his core, a self absorbed asshole. Dr. Holy, on the other hand...well...you spend so many years on the God Squad and some things start to get repressed. He doesn't have anything that couldn't be cured with his wife giving him a good blow job.
In the mean time, he has a boob obsession.
It goes beyond just my boobs.
He is the doc for the nursery at the hospital. So when a baby is born, he sometimes is the doc who examines the baby and talks to the mom, etc etc. Today he berated a mom for not breastfeeding. He stopped just short of telling her that she's a bad mother, but he did say that, "A really good mom who loves her baby would breastfeed her."
DUDE!!!!
He seems like the type of man who thinks women are just a tad beneath him. That women belong home with the children and their boobs and if you don't do that then there's something wrong with you.
Why does this shit keep happening to me?
I need to get home to NJ where people are less backwards!
On a happier note....
Roger is wonderful. Working hard, but that's what makes him wonderful.
I am blissfully in love.
I told my mom the other night that this is truly the first time I have wanted a marriage, and not just a wedding.
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
October 3, 2007 6:05pm
Day over. I had dinner. Now I am ready to calmly recap my afternoon learning.
I don't have kids of my own, so I always feel just a little bit guilty giving parents advice about their kids. Some things I am confident about like when immunizations are recommended, medication dosing, at what age to start baby food, when to switch to 2% milk, etc. Things that are fairly set guidelines that I just need to parrot back.
Then there's the grey areas on child behavior, discipline, going back to work, and other very personal decisions.
For example, a first time mom brought her 2 year old into the office this afternoon. Chief complaint of decreased appetite and decreased bowel movements, also tantrums. So I go in the room and find a very distressed mom who tells me that the little one has been very picky with his eating, and he is throwing 3-4 fits each day.
I was a little frustrated because she had been squeezed in on a very busy day and she was all upset over what is, essentially, the terrible two's and two year molars coming in. I checked him over thoroughly and assured her he wasn't ill, but the molars are probably bothering him so he doesn't much feel like eating. Not to worry, he won't starve. Less eating means less pooping. The fits are, well, normal, though annoying.
Then she asked me how to stop the fits. This is where I started to feel like I didn't have a right to tell her what to do because I don't have kids myself.
My advice, essentially, consisted of "Isolate and Ignore". He throws the fit to get attention. If you give in every time then he will know he can manipulate you. If you just let him have his fit and ignore it by leaving the room or just not feeding into it, then you can welcome him back when he's ready to calm down. She also needs to be consistent. Whatever is not okay to do today also can't be okay to do tomorrow. She can't just let him do something over and over and then one day not let him do it anymore. The rules have to be the same if he's at home or at grandma's house (luckily, grandma was also in the room so we could all be in agreement). Most of all, if she says she's going to punish him by taking x toy away...then follow through and really do if. If he learns that all of her threats are empty threats, he won't take her very seriously. He can start learning that there are certain "rules". Wherever he goes for the rest of his life, there will always be rules he needs to follow.
The doc agreed with my assessment that it was a healthy kid with a 2 year old 'tude. Mom even shook my hand as she was leaving, so maybe she appreciated what I said to her. We gave her the phone number of a local parenting class.
So, on the one hand I was glad to help. On the other, I felt guilty....like I had no right to tell her how to raise her kid. Then again, she asked for my advice. I didn't run up to her in the grocery store out of nowhere and start telling her what to do.
Now, the other thing that I wanted to write about....
I still don't have any children of my own (in case you thought I popped a few out in the past few paragraphs). Therefore, I can't actually relate to what it's like to look forward to bringing this perfect person into the world, only to one day find out that they have a problem of some sort. I'm sure it is devastating and requires some adjustment time.
However....
I am getting really frustrated over the past few weeks( and also in family practice, and also in my mom's pedi neurology office) with seeing parents who are unwilling to accept that their child has a problem and then get them the proper help.
Two examples:
An otherwise healthy 7 year old boy starts 1st grade and becomes a total emotional basket case. He worries about everything. Going to school every day is a battle. He cries and cries all morning. Then he goes into school and is okay for the day there, but as soon as he gets home he just sits in his room and doesn't want to play or talk or do anything. Some days he doesn't even go to school because he is such an emotional wreck that mom keeps him home. Mom brings him to the doc's office. Doc recommends looking into some counseling at the school and prescribes an antidepressant that also helps with anxiety in kids really well. Three weeks later, they come in for a follow-up visit. The first week was rough, but the last two weeks have been better. He gradually cried less and less. He is now just a little upset in the morning, but has made it to school every day for the past two weeks. He comes home in the afternoon and plays (ironically) school with his stuffed animals, and talks with mom and dad about his day when they have dinner. These are all good things, right?
So mom says she wants to immediately take him off the medication. Can't find out from him if he feels better now with the medication, because mom told him it was for his allergies (which he doesn't have). Mom keeps saying she's uncomfortable with him being on a medication. Okay, I get that. Other than the occasional antibiotic, it's tough to put your kid on something to take every day. But if he had asthma, or diabetes, wouldn't you want him to have the medication he needs to make his life better? We tried this to see if it helps, and he is obviously thriving on the medication. Taking him off of it might mean that he will go back to where he was 3 weeks ago, and then if she wants him back on it he will have to take it for a few weeks before it works well again. Mom seems to have a hang-up about even thinking that her kid could have a problem with depression, so she wants him off the medicine ASAP. Well, isn't that just hurting the kid? Aren't you making him suffer because you can't accept that he needs some help right now? He's okay with it. In fact, he's doing better than ever. Isn't this really about him and not you?
Of course, we can't say that to mom. So we agree to take him off it for a trial and see how he does. The counseling went nowhere. She had one visit with the school counselor and then declined any more visits and didn't want the counselor to contact him during the school day (she thought he would be embarrassed. In my opinion, kids are thrilled to get out of class to go somewhere "special". It's the mom who is embarrassed.)
Example 2. A 4 year old boy who weighs 80 lbs. Yes, 80 lbs. He has a vocabulary of less than 4 words. He expresses himself by grunting. He eats until he vomits, and then continues eating. He throws huge, violent tantrums whenever there is even a slight change in his routine. At the age of 3, when he wasn't speaking, doc referred the family to something called Birth to Three. It's supposed to help kids with developmental delays. Well, dad never let the people evaluate the kid. They hired a speech therapist and got his vocabulary up from 0 words to 10 words and some grunts. It was a nightmare trying to examine this kid because he thrashed around, punched, kicked, and screamed. Dad swore his behavior is "fine". Dad says "oh, he talks a lot at home." right. According to Dad, there is "nothing wrong with my son. He's just going at his own pace."
Coincidentally, I saw the mom later in the day with one of their older children. Just before she left she said, "Now, please don't tell me I'm crazy. Everyone says I am. But, I think there's something wrong with my son." Halleluah! Yes! We do too! It didn't take much convincing to get her to agree to an appointment with a neurologist (which isn't until December, unfortunately). She has done some of her own research on the internet and suspects something in the autism spectrum or Prader-Willy Syndrome. All are things we in the office had discussed as possible causes for his language delay and inability to deviate from routine. My fear is that mom will go home and dad will immediately control the situation again. Even if they go to the neurologist, who knows if dad will ever accept that his son has a problem that needs to be dealt with? Mom is already on that road, I think. I just hope she's strong enough to know when she needs to do what's best for her son and ignore the pig-headed dad.
Argh!!!!
Okay, all of that is off my chest now. I feel better. Whew!
I don't have kids of my own, so I always feel just a little bit guilty giving parents advice about their kids. Some things I am confident about like when immunizations are recommended, medication dosing, at what age to start baby food, when to switch to 2% milk, etc. Things that are fairly set guidelines that I just need to parrot back.
Then there's the grey areas on child behavior, discipline, going back to work, and other very personal decisions.
For example, a first time mom brought her 2 year old into the office this afternoon. Chief complaint of decreased appetite and decreased bowel movements, also tantrums. So I go in the room and find a very distressed mom who tells me that the little one has been very picky with his eating, and he is throwing 3-4 fits each day.
I was a little frustrated because she had been squeezed in on a very busy day and she was all upset over what is, essentially, the terrible two's and two year molars coming in. I checked him over thoroughly and assured her he wasn't ill, but the molars are probably bothering him so he doesn't much feel like eating. Not to worry, he won't starve. Less eating means less pooping. The fits are, well, normal, though annoying.
Then she asked me how to stop the fits. This is where I started to feel like I didn't have a right to tell her what to do because I don't have kids myself.
My advice, essentially, consisted of "Isolate and Ignore". He throws the fit to get attention. If you give in every time then he will know he can manipulate you. If you just let him have his fit and ignore it by leaving the room or just not feeding into it, then you can welcome him back when he's ready to calm down. She also needs to be consistent. Whatever is not okay to do today also can't be okay to do tomorrow. She can't just let him do something over and over and then one day not let him do it anymore. The rules have to be the same if he's at home or at grandma's house (luckily, grandma was also in the room so we could all be in agreement). Most of all, if she says she's going to punish him by taking x toy away...then follow through and really do if. If he learns that all of her threats are empty threats, he won't take her very seriously. He can start learning that there are certain "rules". Wherever he goes for the rest of his life, there will always be rules he needs to follow.
The doc agreed with my assessment that it was a healthy kid with a 2 year old 'tude. Mom even shook my hand as she was leaving, so maybe she appreciated what I said to her. We gave her the phone number of a local parenting class.
So, on the one hand I was glad to help. On the other, I felt guilty....like I had no right to tell her how to raise her kid. Then again, she asked for my advice. I didn't run up to her in the grocery store out of nowhere and start telling her what to do.
Now, the other thing that I wanted to write about....
I still don't have any children of my own (in case you thought I popped a few out in the past few paragraphs). Therefore, I can't actually relate to what it's like to look forward to bringing this perfect person into the world, only to one day find out that they have a problem of some sort. I'm sure it is devastating and requires some adjustment time.
However....
I am getting really frustrated over the past few weeks( and also in family practice, and also in my mom's pedi neurology office) with seeing parents who are unwilling to accept that their child has a problem and then get them the proper help.
Two examples:
An otherwise healthy 7 year old boy starts 1st grade and becomes a total emotional basket case. He worries about everything. Going to school every day is a battle. He cries and cries all morning. Then he goes into school and is okay for the day there, but as soon as he gets home he just sits in his room and doesn't want to play or talk or do anything. Some days he doesn't even go to school because he is such an emotional wreck that mom keeps him home. Mom brings him to the doc's office. Doc recommends looking into some counseling at the school and prescribes an antidepressant that also helps with anxiety in kids really well. Three weeks later, they come in for a follow-up visit. The first week was rough, but the last two weeks have been better. He gradually cried less and less. He is now just a little upset in the morning, but has made it to school every day for the past two weeks. He comes home in the afternoon and plays (ironically) school with his stuffed animals, and talks with mom and dad about his day when they have dinner. These are all good things, right?
So mom says she wants to immediately take him off the medication. Can't find out from him if he feels better now with the medication, because mom told him it was for his allergies (which he doesn't have). Mom keeps saying she's uncomfortable with him being on a medication. Okay, I get that. Other than the occasional antibiotic, it's tough to put your kid on something to take every day. But if he had asthma, or diabetes, wouldn't you want him to have the medication he needs to make his life better? We tried this to see if it helps, and he is obviously thriving on the medication. Taking him off of it might mean that he will go back to where he was 3 weeks ago, and then if she wants him back on it he will have to take it for a few weeks before it works well again. Mom seems to have a hang-up about even thinking that her kid could have a problem with depression, so she wants him off the medicine ASAP. Well, isn't that just hurting the kid? Aren't you making him suffer because you can't accept that he needs some help right now? He's okay with it. In fact, he's doing better than ever. Isn't this really about him and not you?
Of course, we can't say that to mom. So we agree to take him off it for a trial and see how he does. The counseling went nowhere. She had one visit with the school counselor and then declined any more visits and didn't want the counselor to contact him during the school day (she thought he would be embarrassed. In my opinion, kids are thrilled to get out of class to go somewhere "special". It's the mom who is embarrassed.)
Example 2. A 4 year old boy who weighs 80 lbs. Yes, 80 lbs. He has a vocabulary of less than 4 words. He expresses himself by grunting. He eats until he vomits, and then continues eating. He throws huge, violent tantrums whenever there is even a slight change in his routine. At the age of 3, when he wasn't speaking, doc referred the family to something called Birth to Three. It's supposed to help kids with developmental delays. Well, dad never let the people evaluate the kid. They hired a speech therapist and got his vocabulary up from 0 words to 10 words and some grunts. It was a nightmare trying to examine this kid because he thrashed around, punched, kicked, and screamed. Dad swore his behavior is "fine". Dad says "oh, he talks a lot at home." right. According to Dad, there is "nothing wrong with my son. He's just going at his own pace."
Coincidentally, I saw the mom later in the day with one of their older children. Just before she left she said, "Now, please don't tell me I'm crazy. Everyone says I am. But, I think there's something wrong with my son." Halleluah! Yes! We do too! It didn't take much convincing to get her to agree to an appointment with a neurologist (which isn't until December, unfortunately). She has done some of her own research on the internet and suspects something in the autism spectrum or Prader-Willy Syndrome. All are things we in the office had discussed as possible causes for his language delay and inability to deviate from routine. My fear is that mom will go home and dad will immediately control the situation again. Even if they go to the neurologist, who knows if dad will ever accept that his son has a problem that needs to be dealt with? Mom is already on that road, I think. I just hope she's strong enough to know when she needs to do what's best for her son and ignore the pig-headed dad.
Argh!!!!
Okay, all of that is off my chest now. I feel better. Whew!
October 3, 2007 12:22pm
Since I'm on my peds rotation right now, I'm feeling the urge to bitch about some kiddie related things. I'm only on a lunch break at the moment, so I will have to continue when I get home later.
The doctor I'm working with wants to write a book called "How to Raise a Brat". A How-To on raising a child to be the most needy, annoying, misbehaved adult possible. He's only half joking about this. It almost seems as if some parents are actually striving to achieve this with their children.
Remember when you were a kid and got it into your head that everyone hated you because you weren't allowed to use the china to serve mud pies (assuming you had parents who were smart enough to not let you serve mud pies on the china and have limits on what is toy vs. not toy), and you'd tie some of your toys up in a blanket, attach it to a broom handle, and head off into the world on your own? I was about 6 the first time I got it into my head to run away. I made it to the end of the driveway. Nobody went chasing after me (though probably someone watched me from the window). If I told my mom I hated her and she was the worst mommy in the world, she didn't go running after me, begging for me to forgive her and telling me that she loves me oh so much.
I walked to the end of the driveway and sat. I sat until my butt got cold and then I came back inside. Then, I had to apologize to my mom for talking to her that way.
There is a bit of parenting advice here. Maybe a kid just needs some alone time. Just a bit of space to have a fit. Most importantly....the kid does not rule the show.
I see so many parents in the office who seem to just let their kids run the house. Then, the mom is "so overwhelmed!". Well, gee, I wonder why. You're letting a 4 year old boss you around.
I know some kinds have real behavior problems (more on that after lunch), but some kids just need some discipline in their home! Good grief! I know spanking is a hot topic for some people. But for pete's sake, nobody will fault you for yelling at your kid when they misbehave. There's a kid in the office who is tugging at my stethoscope around my neck and ripping the BP cuff off the wall, and mom is saying in a sweet voice, "Now, Billy, don't do that. Billy. Don't do that. Billy, mommy is asking nicely. Can you please not do that?"
Billy isn't paying a bit of attention. How about the "Mom Eye" and a big loud, "Billy! YOU QUIT DOING THAT RIGHT NOW. SIT DOWN IN THAT CHAIR AND BE QUIET WHILE THE DR EXAMINES YOUR SISTER."
The tone of one's voice is far more important than the words used. Though, in this case, billy is 8 years old and is old enough to understand the message of "Sit down and be quiet". The speaking softly to one's children deal just doesn't seem to be working for little Billy! Does mom think that Billy will just crumble to pieces and be doomed to a shrink's couch if she gives him a stern look and a yell?
And then I think some of these kids get labeled as "bad kids", or people think they have an attention problem....when it's really just that nobody has ever made them even try to sit still and behave. Kids aren't just born knowing how to behave. Well, sure, some are. Some are the perfect children from birth. But most need some rules and limits so they can learn how to behave.
If we have to go to war 20 years from now, I think we're doomed. There's going to be a whole generation of wimps who never had to deal with disappointment or consequences. They get a trophy for just showing up to the game and are so used to people cheering them on that as adults they don't get why nobody is cheering for them.
This is not an exaggeration. There was an article in the Wall Street Journal recently about companies having problems with new, young employees. They expect to be rewarded for everything they do. One young man came to work every day on time for a year. He wanted to know why he wasn't given some special recognition for that.
Oy!
Okay, back to my social research.....
The doctor I'm working with wants to write a book called "How to Raise a Brat". A How-To on raising a child to be the most needy, annoying, misbehaved adult possible. He's only half joking about this. It almost seems as if some parents are actually striving to achieve this with their children.
Remember when you were a kid and got it into your head that everyone hated you because you weren't allowed to use the china to serve mud pies (assuming you had parents who were smart enough to not let you serve mud pies on the china and have limits on what is toy vs. not toy), and you'd tie some of your toys up in a blanket, attach it to a broom handle, and head off into the world on your own? I was about 6 the first time I got it into my head to run away. I made it to the end of the driveway. Nobody went chasing after me (though probably someone watched me from the window). If I told my mom I hated her and she was the worst mommy in the world, she didn't go running after me, begging for me to forgive her and telling me that she loves me oh so much.
I walked to the end of the driveway and sat. I sat until my butt got cold and then I came back inside. Then, I had to apologize to my mom for talking to her that way.
There is a bit of parenting advice here. Maybe a kid just needs some alone time. Just a bit of space to have a fit. Most importantly....the kid does not rule the show.
I see so many parents in the office who seem to just let their kids run the house. Then, the mom is "so overwhelmed!". Well, gee, I wonder why. You're letting a 4 year old boss you around.
I know some kinds have real behavior problems (more on that after lunch), but some kids just need some discipline in their home! Good grief! I know spanking is a hot topic for some people. But for pete's sake, nobody will fault you for yelling at your kid when they misbehave. There's a kid in the office who is tugging at my stethoscope around my neck and ripping the BP cuff off the wall, and mom is saying in a sweet voice, "Now, Billy, don't do that. Billy. Don't do that. Billy, mommy is asking nicely. Can you please not do that?"
Billy isn't paying a bit of attention. How about the "Mom Eye" and a big loud, "Billy! YOU QUIT DOING THAT RIGHT NOW. SIT DOWN IN THAT CHAIR AND BE QUIET WHILE THE DR EXAMINES YOUR SISTER."
The tone of one's voice is far more important than the words used. Though, in this case, billy is 8 years old and is old enough to understand the message of "Sit down and be quiet". The speaking softly to one's children deal just doesn't seem to be working for little Billy! Does mom think that Billy will just crumble to pieces and be doomed to a shrink's couch if she gives him a stern look and a yell?
And then I think some of these kids get labeled as "bad kids", or people think they have an attention problem....when it's really just that nobody has ever made them even try to sit still and behave. Kids aren't just born knowing how to behave. Well, sure, some are. Some are the perfect children from birth. But most need some rules and limits so they can learn how to behave.
If we have to go to war 20 years from now, I think we're doomed. There's going to be a whole generation of wimps who never had to deal with disappointment or consequences. They get a trophy for just showing up to the game and are so used to people cheering them on that as adults they don't get why nobody is cheering for them.
This is not an exaggeration. There was an article in the Wall Street Journal recently about companies having problems with new, young employees. They expect to be rewarded for everything they do. One young man came to work every day on time for a year. He wanted to know why he wasn't given some special recognition for that.
Oy!
Okay, back to my social research.....
Sunday, September 30, 2007
September 30, 2007 3:14pm
My family is dysfunctional.
I know, I know... everyone's family is dysfunctional in some way.
The problem with mine is that nobody admits to the fact that we are a mess.
The motto of my family seems to be "act as if..."
Act as if nobody is bitter for things that happened to them 45 years ago. Act as if there is no unspoken animosity between one brother and a brother-in-law because of his drinking and occasional outbursts. Act as if we actually want to be around each other when we're really just trying to eat as quickly as possible to get back to our private, solitary lives.
I love my family. I really do. It makes me absolutely crazy to sit in the insanity of it all, though.
Those of you familiar with my Big Fat Thanksgiving Dinner episodes already know some of this.
There's my mom... educated, stable, sensible, and unable to admit that there are any problems...EVER. Everything is fine. She criticizes families that do not "get along", yet she's completely blind to the fact that our own family is filled with anger and tension. I admire families that don't get along and are open about it. At least it's honest.
My uncle will never admit that he's still angry that his father left when he was 5. He will never admit that he's bitter about the way he was raised by my grandmother, and a very female-centered family. He will never admit that he feels like my grandmother always resented men and, therefore, him. He will never admit that he feels like his whole life was miserable because he was raised without the influence of a man. Instead, he makes occasional cynical remarks about his childhood....seemingly out of nowhere. "I heard that Osama has a few dozen children. Imagine being the child of someone so awful?" Well, at least they get to HAVE a father and know where he is! Don't tell me they have a tough life. I KNOW what it's like to grow up without a father. I could do the Osama-dad deal in my sleep. Sheesh!
That's a slight exaggeration, but you get the general idea.
My aunt will never admit that she is bitter that she never had children. She will never admit that she never intended to work, and always wanted the life of the good little wife and mother at home. Not being able to have children threw off that whole plan. She resents any woman who has children and is unhappy for even a moment. How dare someone be unhappy when they have something she could never have? She's angry that she has had to work all these years. She will never admit that her husband has a drinking problem. That he can't go a day without liquor. He says totally inappropriate things. He doesn't know how to behave in public. He cuts people down who have an opinion different from his (particularly me). He is extremely anxious, almost to the point of paranoia when it comes to worrying about money, politics, events, work, whatever.
God forbid anyone ever gets some therapy for their problems. I swear I'm going to have to start crushing Xanax into everyone's food when they come to my house...just to take the edge off.
Nobody will admit that these problems exist.
I try my best to deal with it.
I'm going to be having my family over to my house for our Christmas Eve Wigilia celebration this year. I look forward to the decorating and the cooking. I like putting a small gift at everyone's place setting. I enjoy doing all of this even though I know what is going to happen. If I cook something even remotely interesting or try a new recipe, it will be met with an attitude that just makes me want to vomit. I am treated like a child bringing a peanut butter and bologna sandwich to the table for everyone to share. It's as if they are saying "Oh, how cute. The little one used the stove all by herself!"
The actual comments are more like, "Oh, this is interesting. Why did you decide to make this?" or "Since when do we eat Lamb in this family?" or "Well, I'm usually not too crazy about this. It's not my favorite type of food. Why do we have to have food like this?" For the love of Fabio! I just put some capers on the salmon before baking it! You'd think I brought in jellyfish or something from Fear Factor.
Between courses (Wigilia is a 7 course meal), nobody wants to sit and relax and talk. No, no no. "Okay, let's get the next course out now!" "Let's get this going!" "Let's get this show on the road!"
As soon as dessert is done, everyone is out the door before the last person has drained their coffee cup.
Last Christmas, I put a small gift at everyone's place setting. We haven't exchanged gifts as a family for years, and a gift at everyone's setting is something that I remember having when I was a small child having Wigilia in my grandmother's house. So last Christmas Eve I hosted Wigilia myself and everyone got a mug with my school's insignia on it, and a few of those scratch-off lottery tickets in the mug. Not a very expensive item, but I thought it was a nice little surprise at everyone's place setting.
Here were some of the comments I heard"
"Oh, why did you do this?"
"What am I supposed to do with this?"
"I didn't know we were exchanging gifts again!"
"I thought we weren't doing gifts anymore."
Only after all of that settled out, and after I had to explain myself for why I decided to give everyone a small gift did I hear the first "Thank you, Elizabeth."
Maybe I'm a glutton for punishment. This year I am going to do the same thing. Everyone will be getting a small coffee grinder (one per couple), a tablespoon coffee scoop, and a bag of my new favorite coffee, Boca Java. I'm really excited about this because I get to introduce my family to something that I really enjoy.
On the other hand, I'm really dreading the comments I might hear.
"Oh, we have soooo much coffee! I bought 10 cans of Folgers when it was on sale at Pathmark!"
"We never grind our own coffee. It's too much trouble."
"What prompted this?" what the hell does that even mean? every time I do something for my family they say this, though!
"Oh, so we have to grind our own coffee now? Guess you thought we didn't know how to make our own! Ha Ha Ha!" an attempt at sarcasm
Sigh
If anyone would like to join me for Wigilia, please come to Manasquan. I would be happy to have a few more at my table. Particularly someone who would like their own coffee grinder and kick-ass freshly roasted beans.
I know, I know... everyone's family is dysfunctional in some way.
The problem with mine is that nobody admits to the fact that we are a mess.
The motto of my family seems to be "act as if..."
Act as if nobody is bitter for things that happened to them 45 years ago. Act as if there is no unspoken animosity between one brother and a brother-in-law because of his drinking and occasional outbursts. Act as if we actually want to be around each other when we're really just trying to eat as quickly as possible to get back to our private, solitary lives.
I love my family. I really do. It makes me absolutely crazy to sit in the insanity of it all, though.
Those of you familiar with my Big Fat Thanksgiving Dinner episodes already know some of this.
There's my mom... educated, stable, sensible, and unable to admit that there are any problems...EVER. Everything is fine. She criticizes families that do not "get along", yet she's completely blind to the fact that our own family is filled with anger and tension. I admire families that don't get along and are open about it. At least it's honest.
My uncle will never admit that he's still angry that his father left when he was 5. He will never admit that he's bitter about the way he was raised by my grandmother, and a very female-centered family. He will never admit that he feels like my grandmother always resented men and, therefore, him. He will never admit that he feels like his whole life was miserable because he was raised without the influence of a man. Instead, he makes occasional cynical remarks about his childhood....seemingly out of nowhere. "I heard that Osama has a few dozen children. Imagine being the child of someone so awful?" Well, at least they get to HAVE a father and know where he is! Don't tell me they have a tough life. I KNOW what it's like to grow up without a father. I could do the Osama-dad deal in my sleep. Sheesh!
That's a slight exaggeration, but you get the general idea.
My aunt will never admit that she is bitter that she never had children. She will never admit that she never intended to work, and always wanted the life of the good little wife and mother at home. Not being able to have children threw off that whole plan. She resents any woman who has children and is unhappy for even a moment. How dare someone be unhappy when they have something she could never have? She's angry that she has had to work all these years. She will never admit that her husband has a drinking problem. That he can't go a day without liquor. He says totally inappropriate things. He doesn't know how to behave in public. He cuts people down who have an opinion different from his (particularly me). He is extremely anxious, almost to the point of paranoia when it comes to worrying about money, politics, events, work, whatever.
God forbid anyone ever gets some therapy for their problems. I swear I'm going to have to start crushing Xanax into everyone's food when they come to my house...just to take the edge off.
Nobody will admit that these problems exist.
I try my best to deal with it.
I'm going to be having my family over to my house for our Christmas Eve Wigilia celebration this year. I look forward to the decorating and the cooking. I like putting a small gift at everyone's place setting. I enjoy doing all of this even though I know what is going to happen. If I cook something even remotely interesting or try a new recipe, it will be met with an attitude that just makes me want to vomit. I am treated like a child bringing a peanut butter and bologna sandwich to the table for everyone to share. It's as if they are saying "Oh, how cute. The little one used the stove all by herself!"
The actual comments are more like, "Oh, this is interesting. Why did you decide to make this?" or "Since when do we eat Lamb in this family?" or "Well, I'm usually not too crazy about this. It's not my favorite type of food. Why do we have to have food like this?" For the love of Fabio! I just put some capers on the salmon before baking it! You'd think I brought in jellyfish or something from Fear Factor.
Between courses (Wigilia is a 7 course meal), nobody wants to sit and relax and talk. No, no no. "Okay, let's get the next course out now!" "Let's get this going!" "Let's get this show on the road!"
As soon as dessert is done, everyone is out the door before the last person has drained their coffee cup.
Last Christmas, I put a small gift at everyone's place setting. We haven't exchanged gifts as a family for years, and a gift at everyone's setting is something that I remember having when I was a small child having Wigilia in my grandmother's house. So last Christmas Eve I hosted Wigilia myself and everyone got a mug with my school's insignia on it, and a few of those scratch-off lottery tickets in the mug. Not a very expensive item, but I thought it was a nice little surprise at everyone's place setting.
Here were some of the comments I heard"
"Oh, why did you do this?"
"What am I supposed to do with this?"
"I didn't know we were exchanging gifts again!"
"I thought we weren't doing gifts anymore."
Only after all of that settled out, and after I had to explain myself for why I decided to give everyone a small gift did I hear the first "Thank you, Elizabeth."
Maybe I'm a glutton for punishment. This year I am going to do the same thing. Everyone will be getting a small coffee grinder (one per couple), a tablespoon coffee scoop, and a bag of my new favorite coffee, Boca Java. I'm really excited about this because I get to introduce my family to something that I really enjoy.
On the other hand, I'm really dreading the comments I might hear.
"Oh, we have soooo much coffee! I bought 10 cans of Folgers when it was on sale at Pathmark!"
"We never grind our own coffee. It's too much trouble."
"What prompted this?" what the hell does that even mean? every time I do something for my family they say this, though!
"Oh, so we have to grind our own coffee now? Guess you thought we didn't know how to make our own! Ha Ha Ha!" an attempt at sarcasm
Sigh
If anyone would like to join me for Wigilia, please come to Manasquan. I would be happy to have a few more at my table. Particularly someone who would like their own coffee grinder and kick-ass freshly roasted beans.
Pictures from Canaan!!
They still have the ski lift open so you can go to the top of the mountain. The whole ride up, I kept wondering how strong those cables were and how likely it was that we would go crashing to our death.
Apparently, Roger didn't have the same concern.
How can you not love a place that puts a rubber duckie in your bathroom?
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
September 26, 2007 5:32pm
Woke up to this in my email...
Hi My Elizabeth,
Good Morning, My Love. I woke up this morning and I realized that I miss you more than ever.
I can't wait until I go home to you, I hold you in my arms every night, I wake up next to you every morning.
I love you!
"Your" Roger
::giggle::: :::snort::::
Hi My Elizabeth,
Good Morning, My Love. I woke up this morning and I realized that I miss you more than ever.
I can't wait until I go home to you, I hold you in my arms every night, I wake up next to you every morning.
I love you!
"Your" Roger
::giggle::: :::snort::::
Sunday, September 23, 2007
September 23, 2007 3:01pm
Roger came down for the weekend. We went to Canaan Valley resort (pictures to follow soon). Had a lovely time. Relaxed, ate some good food, hiked, swam, relaxed some more.
I have my panties in a bunch right now because I am wondering why certain people can't return phone calls. You call people to, say, just chat for a bit, tell them some news, wish them happy birthday, or whatever....and they never bother to return the call. I don't mean just not that day, I mean not for weeks and weeks...or ever.
WTF?
I have my panties in a bunch right now because I am wondering why certain people can't return phone calls. You call people to, say, just chat for a bit, tell them some news, wish them happy birthday, or whatever....and they never bother to return the call. I don't mean just not that day, I mean not for weeks and weeks...or ever.
WTF?
Thursday, September 20, 2007
September 20, 2007 8:26pm
Remember Dr. Krazy who I mentioned a few times?
Well, the shit finally hit the fan.
Here's the short version:
I notified my school about his abusive behavior toward me and toward his staff. I was quickly pulled off the rotation and reassigned to a different doctor in the same specialty. An investigation soon began and I was asked to give an official statement about my experiences with Dr. Krazy.
Shortly after, members of his office staff were also called up to administration and asked to give statements on their experiences with him.
At this point, I began to feel terrible. While I was relieved to be off that rotation, his staff was taking even more abuse as he became suspicious that the administration was out for him. Monday was the day that staff members were called to give statements.
Tuesday he abruptly resigned. Nobody knows the details. He had a full day of patients scheduled and he planned to see them, as well as have office hours for the rest of the week. Early in the day, he was called away for an "emergency". Shortly after noon, we were informed that he resigned. Within an hour, the door codes were changed and his name was removed from the building before the next day.
There seems to be a mixed reaction at the hospital. It has created quite a bit of turmoil because now there isn't anyone to do certain medical tests. This creates a huge compliance issue for the hospital, not to mention financial difficulties.
I feel terrible. His remaining staff now are fearful for their jobs. They worry that if another doctor isn't found soon,, they will be out of a job. I don't really see this happening, but it is a very real fear for them. One of the nurses from his office won't even look at me now. On the other hand, his PA is smiling brightly. The nursing supervisor at the hospital gave me a hug and thanked me the day this all happened.
I feel a little like Norma Rae, but less sweaty and without a kerchief tied to my head.
I also feel like I created a disaster. I feel like this is all my fault. I really just wanted to get myself out of a bad situation, and if I was able to help other people not be abused at work then all the better. But now it seems that isn't what anyone wanted.
Well, the shit finally hit the fan.
Here's the short version:
I notified my school about his abusive behavior toward me and toward his staff. I was quickly pulled off the rotation and reassigned to a different doctor in the same specialty. An investigation soon began and I was asked to give an official statement about my experiences with Dr. Krazy.
Shortly after, members of his office staff were also called up to administration and asked to give statements on their experiences with him.
At this point, I began to feel terrible. While I was relieved to be off that rotation, his staff was taking even more abuse as he became suspicious that the administration was out for him. Monday was the day that staff members were called to give statements.
Tuesday he abruptly resigned. Nobody knows the details. He had a full day of patients scheduled and he planned to see them, as well as have office hours for the rest of the week. Early in the day, he was called away for an "emergency". Shortly after noon, we were informed that he resigned. Within an hour, the door codes were changed and his name was removed from the building before the next day.
There seems to be a mixed reaction at the hospital. It has created quite a bit of turmoil because now there isn't anyone to do certain medical tests. This creates a huge compliance issue for the hospital, not to mention financial difficulties.
I feel terrible. His remaining staff now are fearful for their jobs. They worry that if another doctor isn't found soon,, they will be out of a job. I don't really see this happening, but it is a very real fear for them. One of the nurses from his office won't even look at me now. On the other hand, his PA is smiling brightly. The nursing supervisor at the hospital gave me a hug and thanked me the day this all happened.
I feel a little like Norma Rae, but less sweaty and without a kerchief tied to my head.
I also feel like I created a disaster. I feel like this is all my fault. I really just wanted to get myself out of a bad situation, and if I was able to help other people not be abused at work then all the better. But now it seems that isn't what anyone wanted.
Sunday, September 16, 2007
September 16, 2007 12:35pm
I am always being told that I am going into medicine at the "right time".
Am I really?
First, is there ever, truly, a "bad time" to go into a field that will never lose its usefullness? Is it ever a bad time to go into something, such as, the funeral business? "Oh, this is a bad time for the funeral business. Not many dead people these days."
On the other hand, do people think this is a particularly good time to go into medicine just because healthcare is a hot topic? Wouldn't that mean that now is also the time to get into the mortgage business?
I worry that I am of the wrong personality type to go into medicine as it is now, and how I fear it will be in the future. With the 2008 election looming and the she-devil Hillary presenting her absurd plan to get our government even more involved in healthcare, I feel like senators will be making decisions on a patient's health more than the physicians. I already see shades of that when Prescription A isn't covered on someone's formulary, but Prescription B is...even though I know that Prescription A is waaay better for this particular patient.
Why are we so willing to give up our freedom in choosing our care? Because it is perceived to be "free"? It is not free. Imagine making about 25% less than you do now. Look at your paycheck after taxes. Take off an extra 20-25%. That's what you would take home. Lovely.
The expansion of SCHIP and its adorable commercials with cherubic children asking for their school shots is equally nauseating. They don't show the not-so-cherubic 25 year old still-living-at-home-while-attending-community-college-and-working-at-Starbucks who is also eligible for this "children's" health plan. They also fail to mention that the money for it is coming directly from Medicare Advantage (more like DisAdvantage).
And in the frightening statistic of "45 million people uninsured", why do they fail to mention the percentage of them who are illegals and, therefore, should not be eligible for anything anyway! Or what about those who have health insurance available to them through their work but they choose to not get it because they think they are young and healthy and would rather buy an xbox? Let's look at more realistic numbers before we decide to create major overhauls of the current system and give our government yet even more control over our personal health decisions.
Even more absurd is the notion of a person who has made his money by suing the healthcare industry an office in the White House and the authority to decide that everyone needs to see a doctor. Preventive care is all peachy keen in theory, but the jury is still out on the cost effectiveness of it.
I don't know what the best solution is. I do know that the ones currently being presented aren't it.
My idea? Everyone purchases and super duper high deductable insurance plan and then gets to put before tax dollars into a health savings account that rolls over from year to year. For most people, this will get you through your yearly physical, the occasional Tylenol (just save your receipts and you can be reimbursed from your HSA), a minor kitchen accident, and a sinus infection. If, heaven forbid, you get really really sick, you will run through that deductable in a New York minute and your insurance will kick in.
The truth is that most people, particularly young people, don't get very sick. I know as well as anyone that there are exceptions to that. But I don't think anyone can argue that the majority of people under the age of 40 or even 50 do not have major medical problems.
And then on the other end of things is the money spent on caring for the elderly. Maybe we, as physicians, need a more realistic plan for what to do with our patients. Why do a test on someone when you know you will not do anything about the result? For example, someone is 85 years old, has diabetes, hypertension, and conjestive heart failure. If they have colon cancer, they would not be a good surgical candidate. So, why do a colonoscopy on them? Why put them through the torture of that, and the expense of that just to say "yup, you have a tumor. no surgery for you, though." Your management of them would be no different if you didn't know what was wrong with them to begin with anyway!
I saw a woman a few weeks ago in the office who had a very slow heart rate. She is in her 70's, demented, and sits in a wheelchair all day, stares at the ceiling and hums. The only thing the cardiologist could recommend was a pacemaker and an implantable defibrilator. After explaining to her family what all of this would mean, they quickly agreed to send her off for surgery. Her daughter was wearing a t-shirt that had "You Must Be Joking" printed on it. I sincerely wished she understood the irony of that. Those were my thoughts exactly as she was telling me how she just wanted to get mom's heart better. "You must be joking." Mom doesn't know who you are! $30,000 later she will go home from the hospital, just to continue sitting in the chair, staring at the ceiling, and humming.
I wouldn't begrudge her right to have this surgery, but I do wonder about the ethics of it. I also wonder about the ethics of spending that kind of money on someone who is in her condition. On the other hand, it is the right of her and her family to go through with this, as idiotic as it may be. But if we lose our personal choice in our care by hanging over the responsibility of all payment to our government.....would she even be able to make that decision? Would the long shot ever even be tried? Doubtful.
Am I really?
First, is there ever, truly, a "bad time" to go into a field that will never lose its usefullness? Is it ever a bad time to go into something, such as, the funeral business? "Oh, this is a bad time for the funeral business. Not many dead people these days."
On the other hand, do people think this is a particularly good time to go into medicine just because healthcare is a hot topic? Wouldn't that mean that now is also the time to get into the mortgage business?
I worry that I am of the wrong personality type to go into medicine as it is now, and how I fear it will be in the future. With the 2008 election looming and the she-devil Hillary presenting her absurd plan to get our government even more involved in healthcare, I feel like senators will be making decisions on a patient's health more than the physicians. I already see shades of that when Prescription A isn't covered on someone's formulary, but Prescription B is...even though I know that Prescription A is waaay better for this particular patient.
Why are we so willing to give up our freedom in choosing our care? Because it is perceived to be "free"? It is not free. Imagine making about 25% less than you do now. Look at your paycheck after taxes. Take off an extra 20-25%. That's what you would take home. Lovely.
The expansion of SCHIP and its adorable commercials with cherubic children asking for their school shots is equally nauseating. They don't show the not-so-cherubic 25 year old still-living-at-home-while-attending-community-college-and-working-at-Starbucks who is also eligible for this "children's" health plan. They also fail to mention that the money for it is coming directly from Medicare Advantage (more like DisAdvantage).
And in the frightening statistic of "45 million people uninsured", why do they fail to mention the percentage of them who are illegals and, therefore, should not be eligible for anything anyway! Or what about those who have health insurance available to them through their work but they choose to not get it because they think they are young and healthy and would rather buy an xbox? Let's look at more realistic numbers before we decide to create major overhauls of the current system and give our government yet even more control over our personal health decisions.
Even more absurd is the notion of a person who has made his money by suing the healthcare industry an office in the White House and the authority to decide that everyone needs to see a doctor. Preventive care is all peachy keen in theory, but the jury is still out on the cost effectiveness of it.
I don't know what the best solution is. I do know that the ones currently being presented aren't it.
My idea? Everyone purchases and super duper high deductable insurance plan and then gets to put before tax dollars into a health savings account that rolls over from year to year. For most people, this will get you through your yearly physical, the occasional Tylenol (just save your receipts and you can be reimbursed from your HSA), a minor kitchen accident, and a sinus infection. If, heaven forbid, you get really really sick, you will run through that deductable in a New York minute and your insurance will kick in.
The truth is that most people, particularly young people, don't get very sick. I know as well as anyone that there are exceptions to that. But I don't think anyone can argue that the majority of people under the age of 40 or even 50 do not have major medical problems.
And then on the other end of things is the money spent on caring for the elderly. Maybe we, as physicians, need a more realistic plan for what to do with our patients. Why do a test on someone when you know you will not do anything about the result? For example, someone is 85 years old, has diabetes, hypertension, and conjestive heart failure. If they have colon cancer, they would not be a good surgical candidate. So, why do a colonoscopy on them? Why put them through the torture of that, and the expense of that just to say "yup, you have a tumor. no surgery for you, though." Your management of them would be no different if you didn't know what was wrong with them to begin with anyway!
I saw a woman a few weeks ago in the office who had a very slow heart rate. She is in her 70's, demented, and sits in a wheelchair all day, stares at the ceiling and hums. The only thing the cardiologist could recommend was a pacemaker and an implantable defibrilator. After explaining to her family what all of this would mean, they quickly agreed to send her off for surgery. Her daughter was wearing a t-shirt that had "You Must Be Joking" printed on it. I sincerely wished she understood the irony of that. Those were my thoughts exactly as she was telling me how she just wanted to get mom's heart better. "You must be joking." Mom doesn't know who you are! $30,000 later she will go home from the hospital, just to continue sitting in the chair, staring at the ceiling, and humming.
I wouldn't begrudge her right to have this surgery, but I do wonder about the ethics of it. I also wonder about the ethics of spending that kind of money on someone who is in her condition. On the other hand, it is the right of her and her family to go through with this, as idiotic as it may be. But if we lose our personal choice in our care by hanging over the responsibility of all payment to our government.....would she even be able to make that decision? Would the long shot ever even be tried? Doubtful.
Saturday, September 15, 2007
September 15, 2007 7:01pm
To all Bad Guys in the area:
I had to break two windows and bust through a screen today to get into my house after locking myself out. Please do not try to break into this house until after I have had a fair chance at repairing the damages. It really would not be very polite of you to do that, since I have had a very rough day now. Also, I am a student and make no money. I really don't have anything of much great value here. It would not be worth your time or effort (though at the moment, no great effort would be required) to get inside. You might even decide to leave me something if you did get in.
Thank you
One more thing, I have a boyfriend and I'm not afraid to use him.
I had to break two windows and bust through a screen today to get into my house after locking myself out. Please do not try to break into this house until after I have had a fair chance at repairing the damages. It really would not be very polite of you to do that, since I have had a very rough day now. Also, I am a student and make no money. I really don't have anything of much great value here. It would not be worth your time or effort (though at the moment, no great effort would be required) to get inside. You might even decide to leave me something if you did get in.
Thank you
One more thing, I have a boyfriend and I'm not afraid to use him.
September 15, 2007 3:58pm
Time for some updates.....
1) Dr. Krazy's bullshit grated on me just a bit too much. I reported his antics to my school, and they pulled me off his rotation the next day. He then proceeded to make a total ass of himself by accusing my school of being racist. He said that they moved me to a new Dr because they found a "white" doctor.
I felt a little bad because I've never wanted to be that woman, but I think this was justified. The hospital is currently investigating his atrocious behavior.
2) I went home for Labor Day Weekend. Spent some lovely time with Roger.
Roger took this picture of our shadows on the beach. :-)
3) Congratulations to my beautiful (and older :-X) niece, Macon. She is now engaged! Looks like there will be a wedding coming up!
4) The new Dr I am working with is quite nice. Not the kind of person you'd hang out with and have a beer, but it is a much better situation than what I was in. At least I'm not taking daily abuse.
5) The weather here in WV has become just beautiful. Bright, warm sun and 59 degrees. I am quite content here right now.
6) My hands shake. I thought this was always completely normal until I tried to remove a mole from someone's back and my hands were shaking all over the place. Doc asked me if I was nervous....nope...that's just how my hands are. Isn't everyone's like that? Apparently not. My official diagnosis is "Benign Essential Tremor." It means that a career in neurosurgery is totally out for me. This makes me feel old, you see, because I thought only old people had the shakes. Oh well. It just means I now can get out of doing things that involve sharp objects.
I think that's all for now. I'm kinda lonely here this weekend, so any calls or emails would be greatly appreciated.
1) Dr. Krazy's bullshit grated on me just a bit too much. I reported his antics to my school, and they pulled me off his rotation the next day. He then proceeded to make a total ass of himself by accusing my school of being racist. He said that they moved me to a new Dr because they found a "white" doctor.
I felt a little bad because I've never wanted to be that woman, but I think this was justified. The hospital is currently investigating his atrocious behavior.
2) I went home for Labor Day Weekend. Spent some lovely time with Roger.
Roger took this picture of our shadows on the beach. :-)
3) Congratulations to my beautiful (and older :-X) niece, Macon. She is now engaged! Looks like there will be a wedding coming up!
4) The new Dr I am working with is quite nice. Not the kind of person you'd hang out with and have a beer, but it is a much better situation than what I was in. At least I'm not taking daily abuse.
5) The weather here in WV has become just beautiful. Bright, warm sun and 59 degrees. I am quite content here right now.
6) My hands shake. I thought this was always completely normal until I tried to remove a mole from someone's back and my hands were shaking all over the place. Doc asked me if I was nervous....nope...that's just how my hands are. Isn't everyone's like that? Apparently not. My official diagnosis is "Benign Essential Tremor." It means that a career in neurosurgery is totally out for me. This makes me feel old, you see, because I thought only old people had the shakes. Oh well. It just means I now can get out of doing things that involve sharp objects.
I think that's all for now. I'm kinda lonely here this weekend, so any calls or emails would be greatly appreciated.
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
September 5, 2007 7:12pm
First rotation down. Now I'm onto Internal Medicine. The doc I'm with is a bit of a nut. He is from Pakistan. That information would not be important except for that he makes it a point to mention several times each day how he's better than "white people". Day one of my rotation started off with, "All white people have Herpes. did you know that?"
Interestingly enough, he is married to a white woman. At the end of that first day when he asked me what I learned I said, "All white people have Herpes. You are married to a white woman. Therefore, you have Herpes."
The fun just went on from there.
I really dislike people like him. I don't like people who don't understand the difference between funny and offensive.
I also don't like how he talks to his patients, particularly his female patients. As soon as a female patient has a question or a problem regarding anything that he is uncomfortable with, he immediately says, "Oh, I will get my PA to talk to you. she does the female stuff."
Female stuff? Dude, checking an old guy's prostate isn't exactly the highlight of my day, but I know it has to be done.
Yesterday, one of his patients said to me "I've never talked to anyone like I'm talking to you right now. Especially not at a Dr's office." That made me feel good, but also sad knowing that this doc isn't opening that door for his patients, and I was able to do it without even really putting in too much effort.
Today he dismissed a patient from his practice, and I feel responsible. The grandaughter of the patient tore into me when I was in the room along with them. To make a long story short, this guy has bad emphysema. He gets winded easily, and his grandaughter wants him to have a portable oxygen tank. Medicare requires that your resting oxygen saturation be around 87% before you are eligible for that to be paid for. He is still way about that. Grandaughter didn't like that answer and made some remarks indicating that she will hold Dr. K personally responsible if her grandfather dies.
After she tore into me about the expensive medications grandpa has to take, and jumped all over me when I asked if he was smoking (I could smell it on him and if you smoke and have an oxygen tank with you it might BLOW UP so that was important information), I then listened to a 5 minute rant that grandpa made on every religion in the world. No idea where that came from other than the fact that he has a history of psychiatric illness. I went out into the hallway and told Dr. K about what happened in there. We went back in together. He adjusted the man's medications and then told him and grandaughter that they need to find another doctor. He then walked out of the room and dictated a letter to the secretary to put in the mail today dismissing this guy from his practice.
I guess I understand why having someone like that around is a liability, but I still felt responsible. On the other hand, once I looked through his chart more I realized that this office has been providing him with free medications via samples for the last 2 years, as well as bending over backwards to get him outside referrals and other services he needed. Sooooo, maybe this outburst was just the last straw.
On that note, I'm going to hit the books.
Interestingly enough, he is married to a white woman. At the end of that first day when he asked me what I learned I said, "All white people have Herpes. You are married to a white woman. Therefore, you have Herpes."
The fun just went on from there.
I really dislike people like him. I don't like people who don't understand the difference between funny and offensive.
I also don't like how he talks to his patients, particularly his female patients. As soon as a female patient has a question or a problem regarding anything that he is uncomfortable with, he immediately says, "Oh, I will get my PA to talk to you. she does the female stuff."
Female stuff? Dude, checking an old guy's prostate isn't exactly the highlight of my day, but I know it has to be done.
Yesterday, one of his patients said to me "I've never talked to anyone like I'm talking to you right now. Especially not at a Dr's office." That made me feel good, but also sad knowing that this doc isn't opening that door for his patients, and I was able to do it without even really putting in too much effort.
Today he dismissed a patient from his practice, and I feel responsible. The grandaughter of the patient tore into me when I was in the room along with them. To make a long story short, this guy has bad emphysema. He gets winded easily, and his grandaughter wants him to have a portable oxygen tank. Medicare requires that your resting oxygen saturation be around 87% before you are eligible for that to be paid for. He is still way about that. Grandaughter didn't like that answer and made some remarks indicating that she will hold Dr. K personally responsible if her grandfather dies.
After she tore into me about the expensive medications grandpa has to take, and jumped all over me when I asked if he was smoking (I could smell it on him and if you smoke and have an oxygen tank with you it might BLOW UP so that was important information), I then listened to a 5 minute rant that grandpa made on every religion in the world. No idea where that came from other than the fact that he has a history of psychiatric illness. I went out into the hallway and told Dr. K about what happened in there. We went back in together. He adjusted the man's medications and then told him and grandaughter that they need to find another doctor. He then walked out of the room and dictated a letter to the secretary to put in the mail today dismissing this guy from his practice.
I guess I understand why having someone like that around is a liability, but I still felt responsible. On the other hand, once I looked through his chart more I realized that this office has been providing him with free medications via samples for the last 2 years, as well as bending over backwards to get him outside referrals and other services he needed. Sooooo, maybe this outburst was just the last straw.
On that note, I'm going to hit the books.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
August 22, 2007 7:54pm
Good news..... I passed my medical board exam. Woo hoo! On to Step 2 in another year.
right now, I am sitting in The Daily Grind. I feel like I am the oldest person here by a generation, but I know that isn't quite true. Buckhannon is a college town so this place is crawling with college students every evening.
My first rotation is coming to a close. I feel like I have learned a lot, but I am also excited to move on to something new. I start Internal Medicine on Tuesday.
I wish I had a talent like singing or painting. Something I could do and people would "ooooh" and "aahahh" over what I accomplished. right now, the only "aaahhh"s I get are when I am looking at someone's tonsils.
Also, if I was a singer, my permanent spot here in the coffee house would be much more fitting.
I don't fit here. I don't fit in this town. I don't fit in this kind of life. I am much more comfortable at home, but I also think that I don't fit there very well either. I'm somewhere between the suburban life of Manasquan and the country life of West Virginia. I'm not into the upscale lifestyle of the people back home, but I also am not content with staying within the confines of small town life entirely.
It took me a long time to get comfortable in my own skin. I always felt that there was something wrong with me and I needed to change to be more "normal". Now I realize that I am just fine where I am, I just need to find where I fit.
right now, I am sitting in The Daily Grind. I feel like I am the oldest person here by a generation, but I know that isn't quite true. Buckhannon is a college town so this place is crawling with college students every evening.
My first rotation is coming to a close. I feel like I have learned a lot, but I am also excited to move on to something new. I start Internal Medicine on Tuesday.
I wish I had a talent like singing or painting. Something I could do and people would "ooooh" and "aahahh" over what I accomplished. right now, the only "aaahhh"s I get are when I am looking at someone's tonsils.
Also, if I was a singer, my permanent spot here in the coffee house would be much more fitting.
I don't fit here. I don't fit in this town. I don't fit in this kind of life. I am much more comfortable at home, but I also think that I don't fit there very well either. I'm somewhere between the suburban life of Manasquan and the country life of West Virginia. I'm not into the upscale lifestyle of the people back home, but I also am not content with staying within the confines of small town life entirely.
It took me a long time to get comfortable in my own skin. I always felt that there was something wrong with me and I needed to change to be more "normal". Now I realize that I am just fine where I am, I just need to find where I fit.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
August 16, 2007 11:08pm
Feeling blissfully peaceful right now.
I really look forward to every day and what new people I will see.
I look forward to my nightly phone calls with Roger.
I look forward to going home soon.
I did laundry tonight and that made me feel clean and organized.
I at at a coffee house tonight and did some reading. I really enjoyed being somewhere other than in my house. The Daily Grind isn't quite as friendly and fun as The Wild Bean, my favorite hangout in Lewisburg, but it will have to do while I am here.
Maybe when I go back to NJ I can open my own coffee house in the style of The Wild Bean.
Sigh.
I really look forward to every day and what new people I will see.
I look forward to my nightly phone calls with Roger.
I look forward to going home soon.
I did laundry tonight and that made me feel clean and organized.
I at at a coffee house tonight and did some reading. I really enjoyed being somewhere other than in my house. The Daily Grind isn't quite as friendly and fun as The Wild Bean, my favorite hangout in Lewisburg, but it will have to do while I am here.
Maybe when I go back to NJ I can open my own coffee house in the style of The Wild Bean.
Sigh.
Saturday, August 04, 2007
August 4, 2007 8:37pm
I know I have a problem with being obsessive. This has been well documented and known by those closest to me for a long time.
But where is the line between being irrationally obsessive and being bothered by a legitimate issue?
Why am I getting myself all worked up over something that I can't really do anything about right now anyway?
Am I reading too much into all this, or do I have a right to be annoyed?
But where is the line between being irrationally obsessive and being bothered by a legitimate issue?
Why am I getting myself all worked up over something that I can't really do anything about right now anyway?
Am I reading too much into all this, or do I have a right to be annoyed?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)