I've been thinking about meditating for years.
Although I don't remember specifically, I suspect that I first heard about mindfulness meditation sometime during my medical training. It was probably during a session on "resiliency" or "work-life balance", and I was probably cursing the fact that I had to sit through an hour of stupid talks before I could get back to the ward to finish my work and go home. I probably laughed at the idea of using my precious free time to sit on a cushion and focus on my breath.
But it kept coming up. In talks, in articles, from friends and co-workers. And always with an emphasis on all the things it has been shown to help with: depression, anxiety, stress, insomnia, and pretty much every other bad thing that people struggle with. So I read a book, which I loved. And went to one class, which I hated so much I practically ran to the instructor to get a refund at the end of it. And I thought often about doing it. But never did.
(This is the point at which I would love to insert something profound about a life-altering experience that motivated me to start meditating. In reality? (Rosemary is going to laugh at this.) It was a girl.)
I met a woman online who is super into yoga - does yoga at least once a day, reads books about yoga, goes on yoga retreats, and has a yoga tattoo, into yoga. And...she was really cute. And while I couldn't become an expert in yoga in the week between when we met online and when we met in person, I had enough knowledge about meditation that I felt I could claim some proficiency in it after a week. And meditation is basically yoga without all the stretching, right? So I started getting up 15 minutes early every morning to plunk myself down on that cushion and focus on my breath.
Sadly, the date was not the beginning of a great romance that I have failed to talk about here (Despite my abysmal blogging record recently, I would have blogged about something that exciting.). But the meditation stuck. From day one, I felt a little less anxious, and a little less stressed. I slept a little better. In exchange for getting up 15 minutes earlier, I really do feel 10% happier.
Apparently online dating can pay off.
Showing posts with label NaBloPoMo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label NaBloPoMo. Show all posts
Saturday, November 3, 2018
Friday, November 2, 2018
This May Be a Month of Placeholder Posts
It is 11:33, and I suddenly remembered this blog and NaBloPoMo. So...I'm sorry. This is not going to be a particularly inspired post. It is, in fact, going to just be a list (someone said that lists were completely okay). I will try to do better.
Things I May Write About in the Next 28 Days:
- Meditation
- What to do when all your friends have babies, but you're single and childless
- Dating (For this post, I will need a good gif of someone moaning while they rip all the skin off their face)
- Something money-related, given that I kind of claim to be a Personal Finance blogger?
- Uhhhh...photos of my cats?
This could be a long month.
Things I May Write About in the Next 28 Days:
- Meditation
- What to do when all your friends have babies, but you're single and childless
- Dating (For this post, I will need a good gif of someone moaning while they rip all the skin off their face)
- Something money-related, given that I kind of claim to be a Personal Finance blogger?
- Uhhhh...photos of my cats?
This could be a long month.
Thursday, November 1, 2018
If Creampuff Can Do It
It's NaBloPoMo, one of the worst-named events ever, which means that Rosemary at Creampuff Revolution is blogging again!
I haven't blogged in almost two months. Not sure why...maybe because meditation is making me less angsty, and I am less in need of a public space to vent? Maybe I'm just lazy? (Bets on the latter.)
I don't know if I will NaBloPoMo this year, but the day is almost over, so I'm putting this here in case I decide to commit to it. If you're still reading my blog and I decide to do it, what do you want me to write about?
I haven't blogged in almost two months. Not sure why...maybe because meditation is making me less angsty, and I am less in need of a public space to vent? Maybe I'm just lazy? (Bets on the latter.)
I don't know if I will NaBloPoMo this year, but the day is almost over, so I'm putting this here in case I decide to commit to it. If you're still reading my blog and I decide to do it, what do you want me to write about?
Friday, December 1, 2017
I Made it Through NaBloPoMo!
30 days! I started a day late, so I decided to post today to make it the full 30 days. While not technically following the rules, it totally counts in my book. Yay me!
I started NaBloPoMo on a total whim, and there were a few times I considered stopping. Like after I wrote this totally uninspired post. But I hate failing at anything, so I kept going even though I didn't always want to.
There have been lots of good things about the challenge. For one, I am really darn proud of myself for sticking with it for 30 days, particularly given that I've not been feeling at my emotional best this month. It's nice to know that I have the discipline to stick to something, even when the consequences for not doing so are essentially nil. Second, I've loved all the comments I've been getting! NaBloPoMo happened just after I joined Twitter, so the volume of comments has increased both from having more posts and from having more traffic. I love that people will visit my blog, even though I'm just some random person somewhere in Canada, and I love even more that people are affected enough by what I write to leave a comment. Thank you! And I am sorry that I have been negligent at replying lately. I blame Stranger Things. I am still reading and appreciating every comment.
Lastly, I love that NaBloPoMo has gotten me thinking more creatively. My work is very rote and routine most of the time, and it's easy for me to fall into boring life patterns. I've appreciated being challenged to look at life differently and to come up with interesting things to say. In a tiny way, it makes me feel a little bit more alive. And the comments on this post have inspired me to take on another challenge at Christmas: I'm going to write a play. I've had an idea for a Fringe play bouncing around in my head for months, and I think 10 days will be enough for me to get a very rough draft written. (Maybe? Creampuff? I feel like Creampuff, who is a professional playwright, is just laughing hysterically at this. But worst case scenario I get something on paper. Right?) I don't have any intention of ever presenting the play at the Fringe (I have zero acting experience. And just barely more than zero playwriting experience.), but I think the experience could be fun.
(Also, Judith Thompson told me to write a play. I got to talk to her one-on-one for 45 amazing minutes at a local women's theatre festival, and she encouraged me to write a play. And what else can you do when JUDITH THOMPSON TELLS YOU TO WRITE A PLAY?)
So this is the end of NaBloPoMo. Huge thanks to Creampuff and OMDG and ana for keeping me company with their own NaBloPoMo writing. Although I won't be writing every day anymore, I am committing to a minimum of one blog post per week going forward. NaBloPoMo reminded me of how much I value this space, and I don't want to wait another year to write here regularly.
I started NaBloPoMo on a total whim, and there were a few times I considered stopping. Like after I wrote this totally uninspired post. But I hate failing at anything, so I kept going even though I didn't always want to.
There have been lots of good things about the challenge. For one, I am really darn proud of myself for sticking with it for 30 days, particularly given that I've not been feeling at my emotional best this month. It's nice to know that I have the discipline to stick to something, even when the consequences for not doing so are essentially nil. Second, I've loved all the comments I've been getting! NaBloPoMo happened just after I joined Twitter, so the volume of comments has increased both from having more posts and from having more traffic. I love that people will visit my blog, even though I'm just some random person somewhere in Canada, and I love even more that people are affected enough by what I write to leave a comment. Thank you! And I am sorry that I have been negligent at replying lately. I blame Stranger Things. I am still reading and appreciating every comment.
Lastly, I love that NaBloPoMo has gotten me thinking more creatively. My work is very rote and routine most of the time, and it's easy for me to fall into boring life patterns. I've appreciated being challenged to look at life differently and to come up with interesting things to say. In a tiny way, it makes me feel a little bit more alive. And the comments on this post have inspired me to take on another challenge at Christmas: I'm going to write a play. I've had an idea for a Fringe play bouncing around in my head for months, and I think 10 days will be enough for me to get a very rough draft written. (Maybe? Creampuff? I feel like Creampuff, who is a professional playwright, is just laughing hysterically at this. But worst case scenario I get something on paper. Right?) I don't have any intention of ever presenting the play at the Fringe (I have zero acting experience. And just barely more than zero playwriting experience.), but I think the experience could be fun.
(Also, Judith Thompson told me to write a play. I got to talk to her one-on-one for 45 amazing minutes at a local women's theatre festival, and she encouraged me to write a play. And what else can you do when JUDITH THOMPSON TELLS YOU TO WRITE A PLAY?)
So this is the end of NaBloPoMo. Huge thanks to Creampuff and OMDG and ana for keeping me company with their own NaBloPoMo writing. Although I won't be writing every day anymore, I am committing to a minimum of one blog post per week going forward. NaBloPoMo reminded me of how much I value this space, and I don't want to wait another year to write here regularly.
Thursday, November 30, 2017
How YouTube Saved me $200
(This is going to be really quick, as I need to leave for dinner with friends in 20 minutes. Yay friends! And dinner!)
All of my shoes decided to die simultaneously*, so over the past few weeks I have slowly been replacing them. I have been doing it very slowly, because the idea of spending hundreds and hundreds of dollars at once, even if it is very necessary, makes my stomach turn. My first purchase was a pair of work shoes, as my old shoes had passed the point of being acceptable months ago, and my second was a pair of hiking shoes.
I must have been tired when I bought the hiking shoes, because I clearly didn't spend enough time choosing them. I tried on 3 or 4 different pairs, settled on the pair that felt best, and then walked around the store for a few minutes. They felt generally okay, although not as comfortable as my seven-year-old pair, and I figured they would feel increasingly good the more I wore them.
No.
They got worse. The shoes were tight in the front and loose in the back, meaning that I had to choose between painfully compressing the front of my feet because I had tied them tightly or almost walking out of the shoes because I had tied them loosely. The more I wore them, the more I hated them.
The worst part was, in a fit of minimalism, I had thrown out the receipt and the insoles (I wear orthotics**), so I couldn't even take them back. Which left me with the choice of a) wearing the bloody things for years until they wore out or b) getting rid of them and spending another $200 on a new pair of shoes. For days I was tormented by the shoes, because I didn't want to continue being uncomfortable, but I also really really really hate wasting money.
Last night, I gave in and started looking on Mountain Equipment Co-op's website for other shoes. I was done with sore feet, and I was going to just suck it up and buy new shoes. But first, I decided to see what people who had bought my shoes had to say. And found this:
OMG...that was me! Someone whose heels keep slipping! So I went on YouTube. And found this video about how to tie shoes:
It has completely changed my feelings about the shoes. I decided to try tying one of my shoes this way to see if it would help, and by the time I had walked to my car I was practically crying because I no longer despised my $200 shoes. They fit! From top to bottom! And my heels don't slip anymore.
Moral of the story: The internet is amazing. And one should never throw out $200 pairs of shoes***.
Now to spend then $200 I saved on dinner****.
*This may have something to do with the fact that I hate spending money and shopping, so I put things off until the absolute last minute. Like the zero-tread-left, ice-water-leaking-in-through-holes last minute.
**I am a good, book-loving, nerdy queer woman. Who wears orthotics.
***I would not have thrown them out. I would have re-homed them.
****I will not spend $200 on dinner. I like eating out, but not that much.
All of my shoes decided to die simultaneously*, so over the past few weeks I have slowly been replacing them. I have been doing it very slowly, because the idea of spending hundreds and hundreds of dollars at once, even if it is very necessary, makes my stomach turn. My first purchase was a pair of work shoes, as my old shoes had passed the point of being acceptable months ago, and my second was a pair of hiking shoes.
I must have been tired when I bought the hiking shoes, because I clearly didn't spend enough time choosing them. I tried on 3 or 4 different pairs, settled on the pair that felt best, and then walked around the store for a few minutes. They felt generally okay, although not as comfortable as my seven-year-old pair, and I figured they would feel increasingly good the more I wore them.
No.
They got worse. The shoes were tight in the front and loose in the back, meaning that I had to choose between painfully compressing the front of my feet because I had tied them tightly or almost walking out of the shoes because I had tied them loosely. The more I wore them, the more I hated them.
The worst part was, in a fit of minimalism, I had thrown out the receipt and the insoles (I wear orthotics**), so I couldn't even take them back. Which left me with the choice of a) wearing the bloody things for years until they wore out or b) getting rid of them and spending another $200 on a new pair of shoes. For days I was tormented by the shoes, because I didn't want to continue being uncomfortable, but I also really really really hate wasting money.
Last night, I gave in and started looking on Mountain Equipment Co-op's website for other shoes. I was done with sore feet, and I was going to just suck it up and buy new shoes. But first, I decided to see what people who had bought my shoes had to say. And found this:
It has completely changed my feelings about the shoes. I decided to try tying one of my shoes this way to see if it would help, and by the time I had walked to my car I was practically crying because I no longer despised my $200 shoes. They fit! From top to bottom! And my heels don't slip anymore.
Moral of the story: The internet is amazing. And one should never throw out $200 pairs of shoes***.
Now to spend then $200 I saved on dinner****.
*This may have something to do with the fact that I hate spending money and shopping, so I put things off until the absolute last minute. Like the zero-tread-left, ice-water-leaking-in-through-holes last minute.
**I am a good, book-loving, nerdy queer woman. Who wears orthotics.
***I would not have thrown them out. I would have re-homed them.
****I will not spend $200 on dinner. I like eating out, but not that much.
Wednesday, November 29, 2017
More Spoiler Alerts now that I have Watched the First Season of Stranger Things
So in the last episode of Season One of Stranger Things, there is a scene in which the Chief of Police has a flashback to the death of his daughter. She is clearly dying of cancer, and the medical team is running a resuscitation code to try to "bring her back".
Why? Why on earth would any physician run a code on someone with a terminal cancer?
One could argue that it's just television, but my understanding of the US medical system is that it isn't uncommon for people with terminal cancers to have CPR performed on them, to be intubated, and to be admitted to the ICU. Which isn't at all the way things are practiced at the institutions where I trained. Generally, when someone has a clearly terminal illness, the medical team will try to talk with the patient and his/her family to get them to choose a do not resuscitate order. Sometimes the ICU will even refuse to take terminally ill patients.
Which to me seems to be the ethically right decision. CPR is a horribly violent thing to put someone through, and few patients survive it to go on to have a meaningful quality of life. For myself personally, I would only want resuscitation attempted if there was a reasonable chance of me recovering and surviving long-term. If I had a terminal illness* and my heart stopped, I would want to be allowed to die without intervention.
And I don't think this is just my personal preference. In my experience, most patients choose a DNR order when they are properly informed about what an attempted resuscitation entails and how low the survival rates are. A refusal to accept a DNR is generally a result of poor communication from the medical team.
Thoughts? For people in the medical profession, what have you seen in your institution(s)?
*God forbid, knock on wood, throw salt over my shoulder, etc.
Why? Why on earth would any physician run a code on someone with a terminal cancer?
One could argue that it's just television, but my understanding of the US medical system is that it isn't uncommon for people with terminal cancers to have CPR performed on them, to be intubated, and to be admitted to the ICU. Which isn't at all the way things are practiced at the institutions where I trained. Generally, when someone has a clearly terminal illness, the medical team will try to talk with the patient and his/her family to get them to choose a do not resuscitate order. Sometimes the ICU will even refuse to take terminally ill patients.
Which to me seems to be the ethically right decision. CPR is a horribly violent thing to put someone through, and few patients survive it to go on to have a meaningful quality of life. For myself personally, I would only want resuscitation attempted if there was a reasonable chance of me recovering and surviving long-term. If I had a terminal illness* and my heart stopped, I would want to be allowed to die without intervention.
And I don't think this is just my personal preference. In my experience, most patients choose a DNR order when they are properly informed about what an attempted resuscitation entails and how low the survival rates are. A refusal to accept a DNR is generally a result of poor communication from the medical team.
Thoughts? For people in the medical profession, what have you seen in your institution(s)?
*God forbid, knock on wood, throw salt over my shoulder, etc.
Tuesday, November 28, 2017
Binge Watching Stranger Things (Slight Spoiler Alert for Anyone who has been Living Under a Rock and has not Watched the Show)
This past weekend, when I was feeling a bit bored and aimless, I tried to watch a few different shows on Netflix. Orange is the New Black, Gilmore Girls, Breaking Bad. Even though I've enjoyed all of them in the past, I couldn't quite get into them again. I was beginning to think that I had moved beyond television and become someone who just does intellectual things like read books and drink sherry.
And then I started watching Stranger Things last night, and OMG it is so scary, but I can't stop watching it. Every light in my apartment is on, and I'm probably going to have to sleep on the couch with the cats because my bedroom is now scary, but I really need to know what happens.
Also...the Chief of Police is an idiot.
And I really wish Eleven could talk more, because really? Do we need to have a major female character who doesn't say more than 2 or 3 words at a time?
And that is my blog post for tonight, because I'm on episode 5 and I need to go to bed soon because my clinic starts at 7 am.
I will not start episode 6 tonight.
Probably not.
Although if I'm lying awake on the couch unable to sleep, what's the harm in watching another episode?
And then I started watching Stranger Things last night, and OMG it is so scary, but I can't stop watching it. Every light in my apartment is on, and I'm probably going to have to sleep on the couch with the cats because my bedroom is now scary, but I really need to know what happens.
Also...the Chief of Police is an idiot.
And I really wish Eleven could talk more, because really? Do we need to have a major female character who doesn't say more than 2 or 3 words at a time?
And that is my blog post for tonight, because I'm on episode 5 and I need to go to bed soon because my clinic starts at 7 am.
I will not start episode 6 tonight.
Probably not.
Although if I'm lying awake on the couch unable to sleep, what's the harm in watching another episode?
Monday, November 27, 2017
OMG I Have Ten Days Off at Christmas
The past two years, I haven't really enjoyed Christmas. As the junior staff member, I've been on call over the holidays, meaning that I've never quite been able to relax, lest I get paged away in the middle of the gift opening or family dinner. It also means I haven't been able to drink, which is a bad thing given the specialness that is my family.
When putting in my call requests for this year, I asked to have the full week off in return for taking Christmas two years in a row, and I was successful! M and I celebrated when the call schedule came out, envisioning leisurely days spent sleeping in and playing games and eating all the Christmas baking. It was going to be wonderful.
Somehow, it didn't occur to me until today that my Christmas plans have changed.
I mean...I knew intellectually that I wasn't going to be spending Christmas with M and her family. I am actually in touch with what is going on in my life. But somehow, in the moments when I would look ahead to Christmas, I still pictured an abundantly full holiday, packed with all of the activities I've done since I met M.
Which isn't what's going to happen. There will be no family puzzle or Christmas morning cheese tray or days spent at M's parents' house in pjs. There will be one Christmas Eve dinner at my brother's, followed by the opening of a few presents the next day, and that will be it. And then there will be eight days on my own, when my friends are busy with their families or traveling to other cities. Me, the cats, and my apartment. For eight days.
When I suddenly realized what was ahead of me, I panicked. I actually thought about booking some clinics that week so as to not have to face such an abundance of alone time. Or maybe flying away somewhere, so that at least I could be distracted from my aloneness by the sites of a new city. Anything to not spend the holidays drinking wine and singing sad love songs a la Bridget Jones.
But, I probably won't do any of those things. People are notoriously bad for not coming to clinics during the Christmas holidays, which would mean I'd be miserable and lonely while wearing work clothes instead of sweat pants. And given that I just came back from Quebec City and am planning a trip to France, I don't feel like I can justify any more travel for a while. So I will be here.
And now I am planning. I'm messaging any friends who might be around to say "Please entertain me". I'm booking a massage. I'm writing a list of things that I can do to keep myself from spending what should be 10 wonderful days off wallowing in a sea of self pity. Or (God forbid) from trying to online date over the holidays, which is really one of the saddest things a person can do.
Any suggestions of things to add to my list?
When putting in my call requests for this year, I asked to have the full week off in return for taking Christmas two years in a row, and I was successful! M and I celebrated when the call schedule came out, envisioning leisurely days spent sleeping in and playing games and eating all the Christmas baking. It was going to be wonderful.
Somehow, it didn't occur to me until today that my Christmas plans have changed.
I mean...I knew intellectually that I wasn't going to be spending Christmas with M and her family. I am actually in touch with what is going on in my life. But somehow, in the moments when I would look ahead to Christmas, I still pictured an abundantly full holiday, packed with all of the activities I've done since I met M.
Which isn't what's going to happen. There will be no family puzzle or Christmas morning cheese tray or days spent at M's parents' house in pjs. There will be one Christmas Eve dinner at my brother's, followed by the opening of a few presents the next day, and that will be it. And then there will be eight days on my own, when my friends are busy with their families or traveling to other cities. Me, the cats, and my apartment. For eight days.
When I suddenly realized what was ahead of me, I panicked. I actually thought about booking some clinics that week so as to not have to face such an abundance of alone time. Or maybe flying away somewhere, so that at least I could be distracted from my aloneness by the sites of a new city. Anything to not spend the holidays drinking wine and singing sad love songs a la Bridget Jones.
But, I probably won't do any of those things. People are notoriously bad for not coming to clinics during the Christmas holidays, which would mean I'd be miserable and lonely while wearing work clothes instead of sweat pants. And given that I just came back from Quebec City and am planning a trip to France, I don't feel like I can justify any more travel for a while. So I will be here.
And now I am planning. I'm messaging any friends who might be around to say "Please entertain me". I'm booking a massage. I'm writing a list of things that I can do to keep myself from spending what should be 10 wonderful days off wallowing in a sea of self pity. Or (God forbid) from trying to online date over the holidays, which is really one of the saddest things a person can do.
Any suggestions of things to add to my list?
Sunday, November 26, 2017
Taking a Risk
In my first year of medical school, an opportunity came up to work on the development of an inner-city student health clinic. I got excited just reading the job description; I loved the idea of getting early exposure in a clinical setting, and the clinic was well-aligned with my desire to improve healthcare for marginalized individuals. The job opportunity was exactly what I wanted to be doing during my first summer of medical school.
I didn't apply.
I had no experience working with marginalized populations, so I thought there was no possible way I would ever be chosen for the job. I didn't even give them the opportunity to reject me, I just self-selected out. I completely ignored the fact that I had been writing and editing grants professionally for four years, which would have been a huge asset in a position that involved a lot of fundraising.
My best friend got the position.
She had even less relevant experience than I did, but she wanted the position and had the guts to apply for it, so she got it. And she was excellent at it, because it turns out you don't need to fit perfectly with a position to be good at it. You bring in your existing skills, and you learn and you stretch yourself, and you gain the ability to do something different.
Her getting the position actually worked out well for me, because she didn't want to work full-time in the summer, and she asked me to job share! (Funnily enough, there wasn't a huge demand for the poorly paying job, so they were willing to be very accommodating.) I ended up liking it as much as I had hoped, and I stayed on to volunteer during the school year and to work for the clinic again the following summer.
Fast forward to the present. I have been looking for ways to meet new people and broaden my activities, and in my search I came across a feminist theatre group that is looking for new members for its board of directors. I luuuuurve the theatre, and I am an unapologetic feminist, so the ad filled me with the same excitement I had felt reading that job description as a baby medical student years ago. Followed immediately after by that same sense of inadequacy.
Why would a theatre company want me? What do I know about theatre, beyond attending 39 fringe festival plays this summer*?
It was exactly the same as with the summer job years ago. So I sat on it. Didn't apply. Ignored the fact that the opportunity sounded fun and exciting and exactly like something I would want to do.
But then, I asked a friend about it. Poured out my heart and my doubt and my little tiny bit of hope to her, and she said "The worst that could happen is they say no."
As simple as that. She stated it matter-of-factly and then immediately resumed stuffing her face with deep fried veggie balls at the vegan restaurant where we were eating. My neurotic self wanted to counter with one hundred reasons why they might say no and why being rejected would be the worst thing that ever happened to anyone, but really? If they said no, I would get over it.
So this morning I wrote a letter. And as soon as my friend edits it and gives me feedback, I am sending it off.
The worst that could happen is they say no.
*Too many. I think 25-30 in 12 days is my sweet spot.
I didn't apply.
I had no experience working with marginalized populations, so I thought there was no possible way I would ever be chosen for the job. I didn't even give them the opportunity to reject me, I just self-selected out. I completely ignored the fact that I had been writing and editing grants professionally for four years, which would have been a huge asset in a position that involved a lot of fundraising.
My best friend got the position.
She had even less relevant experience than I did, but she wanted the position and had the guts to apply for it, so she got it. And she was excellent at it, because it turns out you don't need to fit perfectly with a position to be good at it. You bring in your existing skills, and you learn and you stretch yourself, and you gain the ability to do something different.
Her getting the position actually worked out well for me, because she didn't want to work full-time in the summer, and she asked me to job share! (Funnily enough, there wasn't a huge demand for the poorly paying job, so they were willing to be very accommodating.) I ended up liking it as much as I had hoped, and I stayed on to volunteer during the school year and to work for the clinic again the following summer.
Fast forward to the present. I have been looking for ways to meet new people and broaden my activities, and in my search I came across a feminist theatre group that is looking for new members for its board of directors. I luuuuurve the theatre, and I am an unapologetic feminist, so the ad filled me with the same excitement I had felt reading that job description as a baby medical student years ago. Followed immediately after by that same sense of inadequacy.
Why would a theatre company want me? What do I know about theatre, beyond attending 39 fringe festival plays this summer*?
It was exactly the same as with the summer job years ago. So I sat on it. Didn't apply. Ignored the fact that the opportunity sounded fun and exciting and exactly like something I would want to do.
But then, I asked a friend about it. Poured out my heart and my doubt and my little tiny bit of hope to her, and she said "The worst that could happen is they say no."
As simple as that. She stated it matter-of-factly and then immediately resumed stuffing her face with deep fried veggie balls at the vegan restaurant where we were eating. My neurotic self wanted to counter with one hundred reasons why they might say no and why being rejected would be the worst thing that ever happened to anyone, but really? If they said no, I would get over it.
So this morning I wrote a letter. And as soon as my friend edits it and gives me feedback, I am sending it off.
The worst that could happen is they say no.
*Too many. I think 25-30 in 12 days is my sweet spot.
Saturday, November 25, 2017
Cortical Homunculus Saturday!
I needed to make some space on my iPhone (my fancy, modern iPhone 4S) in order to upgrade the software, so I decided to look through and delete some of my photos. Most of which are photos from the three-and-a-half years that M and I spent together. Oddly enough, this was a somewhat emotionally wrenching experience, and as a result my motivation to write a coherent blog post is a bit low right now. So I'm stealing an idea from Creampuff, who has been posting pictures of her dog on Saturdays and calling it Shar Pei Saturday. Except instead of my cats (who were featured on Thursday), I give you a cortical homunculus. This photo is from Le Musée de la Civilisation, which I visited on my recent trip to Quebec City.
What is a cortical homunculus, you ask? According to Wikipedia:
A cortical homunculus is a distorted representation of the human body, based on a neurological "map" of the areas and proportions of the brain dedicated to processing motor functions, or sensory functions, for different parts of the body. Homunculus is Latin for "little man", and was a term used in alchemy and folklore prior to the concept being utilized in scientific literature. A cortical homunculus, or "cortex man", illustrates the concept of a representation of the body lying within the brain.
You're welcome.
Happy Saturday everyone!
What is a cortical homunculus, you ask? According to Wikipedia:
A cortical homunculus is a distorted representation of the human body, based on a neurological "map" of the areas and proportions of the brain dedicated to processing motor functions, or sensory functions, for different parts of the body. Homunculus is Latin for "little man", and was a term used in alchemy and folklore prior to the concept being utilized in scientific literature. A cortical homunculus, or "cortex man", illustrates the concept of a representation of the body lying within the brain.
You're welcome.
Happy Saturday everyone!
Friday, November 24, 2017
When Other People Screw Up
Once a month or so, I do an extra Friday afternoon clinic in a different location from my usual clinics. It involves rushing out as soon as my morning clinic ends, driving 45 minutes across the city, and generally arriving 10-15 minutes late at the second clinic. It isn't my favourite thing in the world, but it is necessary for a whole bunch of reasons, so I just suck it up and do it.
Today was one of those days. When I was about halfway between locations, I got a call from the second clinic.
"Did you forget that you had a clinic today?"
"Uhh...no. It's 12:55. I'll be there in 15-20 minutes like usual."
"Oh. Uhhh...there are patients here for you."
I didn't think much of it until I arrived at the clinic to find eight patients already waiting for me. It turns out, for reasons that are unclear to me, the clerk had booked my clinic starting at 12:30. Even though I've been doing this for over two years, and I never arrive before 1 PM.
Gaaaaaahhhh!!!
And this is just the end of a week of screw ups. Misplaced requisitions, incomplete tasks, and other things done wrong. It is driving me nuts. We're professionals working in a healthcare setting - just do things right people! I do not have the time to double check everything you are doing to make sure you're doing it correctly.
/end rant
Thankfully, my patients are all lovely, and I didn't have a single complaint despite being over an hour behind at the end. But I just wish that I didn't have to be the person who is ultimately held responsible for everything, including the incompetence of others.
Have a great weekend everyone. It's time for a book and some popcorn. And wine.
Today was one of those days. When I was about halfway between locations, I got a call from the second clinic.
"Did you forget that you had a clinic today?"
"Uhh...no. It's 12:55. I'll be there in 15-20 minutes like usual."
"Oh. Uhhh...there are patients here for you."
I didn't think much of it until I arrived at the clinic to find eight patients already waiting for me. It turns out, for reasons that are unclear to me, the clerk had booked my clinic starting at 12:30. Even though I've been doing this for over two years, and I never arrive before 1 PM.
Gaaaaaahhhh!!!
And this is just the end of a week of screw ups. Misplaced requisitions, incomplete tasks, and other things done wrong. It is driving me nuts. We're professionals working in a healthcare setting - just do things right people! I do not have the time to double check everything you are doing to make sure you're doing it correctly.
/end rant
Thankfully, my patients are all lovely, and I didn't have a single complaint despite being over an hour behind at the end. But I just wish that I didn't have to be the person who is ultimately held responsible for everything, including the incompetence of others.
Have a great weekend everyone. It's time for a book and some popcorn. And wine.
Thursday, November 23, 2017
17 Things I'm Thankful For
Happy American Thanksgiving everyone!
Here in Canada, we're working and eating zero turkey. So I'm in no way thankful for that. But I thought I'd do a cheesy post in honour of the American holiday that I'm not celebrating. Because it's NaBloPoMo, and I will take ideas for posts anywhere I can find them.
This year, I'm thankful for:
1. The approaching weekend and the ability to sleep in.
2. Friends who have babies, so that I can cuddle them and give them back.
3. Taking myself out to dinner at a really tasty Ethiopian restaurant. For $13. With leftovers.
4. My best friends, Ben and Jerry, with whom I'll be spending some time after I finish this post.
5. My two hairy beasts, who think the best thing is cuddling with me on the couch.
6. Taking a six-month hiatus from dating, thus postponing the horror of online dating sites.
7. My almost clutter-free apartment.
8. The fact that my mother is usually not as annoying as she was last night.
9. Almost an entire calendar year in the black!
10. My introversion, which makes being alone after a breakup kind of awesome. (Sometimes.)
11. Picking up three more books from my favourite library.
12. Ivan Coyote.
13. My really warm winter coat, which makes Canada even better.
14. Universal healthcare (also something that makes Canada better).
15. A work trip that will take me to Paris in the Spring.
16. Duolingo for helping me learn to say "Une table pour une personne, s'il vous plaît".
17. Wine.
What are you thankful for this year?
Here in Canada, we're working and eating zero turkey. So I'm in no way thankful for that. But I thought I'd do a cheesy post in honour of the American holiday that I'm not celebrating. Because it's NaBloPoMo, and I will take ideas for posts anywhere I can find them.
This year, I'm thankful for:
1. The approaching weekend and the ability to sleep in.
2. Friends who have babies, so that I can cuddle them and give them back.
3. Taking myself out to dinner at a really tasty Ethiopian restaurant. For $13. With leftovers.
4. My best friends, Ben and Jerry, with whom I'll be spending some time after I finish this post.
5. My two hairy beasts, who think the best thing is cuddling with me on the couch.
6. Taking a six-month hiatus from dating, thus postponing the horror of online dating sites.
7. My almost clutter-free apartment.
8. The fact that my mother is usually not as annoying as she was last night.
9. Almost an entire calendar year in the black!
10. My introversion, which makes being alone after a breakup kind of awesome. (Sometimes.)
11. Picking up three more books from my favourite library.
12. Ivan Coyote.
13. My really warm winter coat, which makes Canada even better.
14. Universal healthcare (also something that makes Canada better).
15. A work trip that will take me to Paris in the Spring.
16. Duolingo for helping me learn to say "Une table pour une personne, s'il vous plaît".
17. Wine.
What are you thankful for this year?
Wednesday, November 22, 2017
And Then I Disowned My Mother
I am home late and writing a very quick post because tonight was dinner and the theatre (pronounced "thee-a-tahhhh") with my Mom. We had a really lovely time, right up until the point when she casually mentioned that she is planning to donate money to a Christian charity that is known for stating that gay people should be killed.
"Ummm...Mom....you know their stance on gay people, right?"
"Well. People have a right to their own opinions."
"Sure. But....uhhh....do you think that maybe you could not donate to a charity that thinks that your daughter should be killed because she happens to like women? Maybe?"
She didn't see the problem.
Because apparently the charity does good work.
Anyone want to adopt a 40-year-old doctor?
"Ummm...Mom....you know their stance on gay people, right?"
"Well. People have a right to their own opinions."
"Sure. But....uhhh....do you think that maybe you could not donate to a charity that thinks that your daughter should be killed because she happens to like women? Maybe?"
She didn't see the problem.
Because apparently the charity does good work.
Anyone want to adopt a 40-year-old doctor?
Tuesday, November 21, 2017
When Things Are Just Hard
My ex-girlfriend came over this evening to drop off a suitcase she had borrowed* and to pick up some things she had left behind. It was emotional and awful, even though two and a half months have already passed. I wanted to say or do something that would make it better, but there isn't anything to say or do. This is just hard.
Like many things in life are hard. Sometimes there is no fixing separation and loneliness and illness and death. And all you can do is give someone the biggest hug possible and cry.
*Brilliantly, she forgot the suitcase.
Like many things in life are hard. Sometimes there is no fixing separation and loneliness and illness and death. And all you can do is give someone the biggest hug possible and cry.
*Brilliantly, she forgot the suitcase.
Monday, November 20, 2017
How I Feed Myself
I am obsessed with food. I watch Top Chef religiously; I spend way too much money in restaurants; and when I am unhappy, a surefire way to make me happy again is to feed me good food. That being said, I hate the fact that I have to feed myself regularly. I'd far rather eat five really amazing meals per week than have to deal with the tedium of three meals a day, seven days a week.
Tonight, I was driving home late from a long Monday in my inner city clinic, when I realized that I was far too hungry (HAANGRY) to finish making the beef and barley soup I'd started yesterday. There were a few things in my freezer, but I was not feeling virtuous enough to eat lentil soup or bean-packed chili. I wanted something tasty. My initial impulse was to go to McDonald's, but I haven't been back since my nieces informed me that there were 17 ingredients in their fries. (I was under no illusion that McDonald's food was healthy, but I though that at least their fries were potatoes fried in oil and salted. Nope. I was 17 kinds of wrong on that one.)
So I decided to stop at the store. And what I was really craving was pizza. I could've just picked up a frozen pizza, but I've mostly been cooking at home lately, and as a result most processed food tastes like cardboard to me. So I picked up some pita bread for crusts, along with pizza sauce, cheese, canned mushrooms, and pepperoni. And 1 hour and 15 minutes after I pulled into the parking lot, I pulled six of these out of my oven:
(Only five are shown, because one was in my stomach by the time the photo was taken.) Once again, the light is terrible (no natural light after 5:30!), but the pizza is super yummy. Look closer...
Mmmm. Given that I have five leftover pizzas to freeze, this works out to about 12 minutes per meal for shopping and cooking time. And that's probably a bit of an overestimate for how long it took, as I spent the last 15 minutes or so sitting on the couch eating my pizza while the remaining pizzas baked.
So this is how I feed myself: batch cooking. I am absolutely not going to come home every night and cook for myself, but I am happy to cook big batches of food and freeze leftovers. Whenever I hear someone say that they don't like leftovers (like my mother), I look at them like they've just grown a second head, because leftovers are my entire cooking strategy. All hail leftovers!
(Yes, I recognize that pizza is not the healthiest dinner. When I eat the leftovers, I'll probably invest a bit of extra time into making a salad or some veggies to make it healthier, which will likely stretch the pizzas even farther, as a whole pizza is a lot of food on its own. With a big serving of veggies, I can probably get ten meals out of the rest of the pizza. Also, I generally eat pretty healthy food, so I figure that on a day when I am tired and grouchy and just want to eat a quarter pounder washed down with liquid sugar, a homemade pizza is probably acceptable.)
What is your cooking strategy?
Tonight, I was driving home late from a long Monday in my inner city clinic, when I realized that I was far too hungry (HAANGRY) to finish making the beef and barley soup I'd started yesterday. There were a few things in my freezer, but I was not feeling virtuous enough to eat lentil soup or bean-packed chili. I wanted something tasty. My initial impulse was to go to McDonald's, but I haven't been back since my nieces informed me that there were 17 ingredients in their fries. (I was under no illusion that McDonald's food was healthy, but I though that at least their fries were potatoes fried in oil and salted. Nope. I was 17 kinds of wrong on that one.)
So I decided to stop at the store. And what I was really craving was pizza. I could've just picked up a frozen pizza, but I've mostly been cooking at home lately, and as a result most processed food tastes like cardboard to me. So I picked up some pita bread for crusts, along with pizza sauce, cheese, canned mushrooms, and pepperoni. And 1 hour and 15 minutes after I pulled into the parking lot, I pulled six of these out of my oven:
(Only five are shown, because one was in my stomach by the time the photo was taken.) Once again, the light is terrible (no natural light after 5:30!), but the pizza is super yummy. Look closer...
Mmmm. Given that I have five leftover pizzas to freeze, this works out to about 12 minutes per meal for shopping and cooking time. And that's probably a bit of an overestimate for how long it took, as I spent the last 15 minutes or so sitting on the couch eating my pizza while the remaining pizzas baked.
So this is how I feed myself: batch cooking. I am absolutely not going to come home every night and cook for myself, but I am happy to cook big batches of food and freeze leftovers. Whenever I hear someone say that they don't like leftovers (like my mother), I look at them like they've just grown a second head, because leftovers are my entire cooking strategy. All hail leftovers!
(Yes, I recognize that pizza is not the healthiest dinner. When I eat the leftovers, I'll probably invest a bit of extra time into making a salad or some veggies to make it healthier, which will likely stretch the pizzas even farther, as a whole pizza is a lot of food on its own. With a big serving of veggies, I can probably get ten meals out of the rest of the pizza. Also, I generally eat pretty healthy food, so I figure that on a day when I am tired and grouchy and just want to eat a quarter pounder washed down with liquid sugar, a homemade pizza is probably acceptable.)
What is your cooking strategy?
Sunday, November 19, 2017
Looking Ahead to Buy Nothing Day
Since I was in university over 20 years ago, I have been an enthusiastic participant in Buy Nothing Day. Founded in Vancouver in 1992, Buy Nothing Day is a day on which people are encouraged to literally buy nothing as a way of reflecting on the negative aspects of our consumer society. Not coincidentally, in the United States it is held on the Friday after Thanksgiving, when many people are rushing out to the stores (and sometimes killing each other) to get a start on their Christmas/Hanukkah shopping.
I love Buy Nothing Day because I think it is all too easy to get caught up in the message that holidays are about things. Giving the best gifts, serving the fanciest foods, and having the most festively decorated home. And while none of those things are inherently bad (especially not the fancy food), every one of them requires an investment of time and energy and comes at the expense of other activities. If you're out pepper spraying someone to get a deal on video games, then you aren't at home playing video games with your family.
For me, Buy Nothing Day is another reminder to be mindful. To think about what is important to me in life and especially during the holidays, rather than just taking directions from advertisements and the dominant culture. Over the years, I've decided to reduce my gift giving, because I don't want more things in my apartment, and because I prefer time with my family to time in the mall. I was reminded of how ridiculous gift giving can be last weekend when I decluttered a huge portion of my apartment, as many of the things I got rid of were things that had been gifted to me. Huge expenditures of time and money had gone into things that I ended up leaving in my apartment lobby for other people to take.
I'm really excited this year to have a full 9 days off over the holidays, which hasn't happened since my last year of medical school in 2009. I could use some of my abundant time off to do more Christmas decorating and shop for Christmas gifts...but there is zero of me that wants to do that. I want to hang out with my nieces and have games days with friends and eat appetizers with my Mom. To me, these are the things that make a holiday. Not anything that I can buy on Buy Nothing Day.
(Edited to add: Ten days! I actually have 10 days! I didn't realize that the Monday (January 1) was a holiday too. WOOOOOOO-HOOOOOOOO!!!!!)
I love Buy Nothing Day because I think it is all too easy to get caught up in the message that holidays are about things. Giving the best gifts, serving the fanciest foods, and having the most festively decorated home. And while none of those things are inherently bad (especially not the fancy food), every one of them requires an investment of time and energy and comes at the expense of other activities. If you're out pepper spraying someone to get a deal on video games, then you aren't at home playing video games with your family.
For me, Buy Nothing Day is another reminder to be mindful. To think about what is important to me in life and especially during the holidays, rather than just taking directions from advertisements and the dominant culture. Over the years, I've decided to reduce my gift giving, because I don't want more things in my apartment, and because I prefer time with my family to time in the mall. I was reminded of how ridiculous gift giving can be last weekend when I decluttered a huge portion of my apartment, as many of the things I got rid of were things that had been gifted to me. Huge expenditures of time and money had gone into things that I ended up leaving in my apartment lobby for other people to take.
I'm really excited this year to have a full 9 days off over the holidays, which hasn't happened since my last year of medical school in 2009. I could use some of my abundant time off to do more Christmas decorating and shop for Christmas gifts...but there is zero of me that wants to do that. I want to hang out with my nieces and have games days with friends and eat appetizers with my Mom. To me, these are the things that make a holiday. Not anything that I can buy on Buy Nothing Day.
(Edited to add: Ten days! I actually have 10 days! I didn't realize that the Monday (January 1) was a holiday too. WOOOOOOO-HOOOOOOOO!!!!!)
Saturday, November 18, 2017
For the Love of Libraries
As a kid, there was no library in my neighbourhood. Instead, a "Bookmobile" would be set up once a week in the parking lot of our local shopping mall, giving us access to a rotating assortment of books from the public library. I made my parents take me there pretty much every week, and I can remember running up the metal stairs into the trailer, eager to see what new books awaited me. (I was not an even remotely athletic child, so only the most exciting of things would get me to move quickly.) I would return from those visits with a grocery bag overflowing with books and immediately park myself down on the couch to start reading. I loved it.
My love of libraries and reading lasted until medical school, when it became my job to read and learn. I replaced my piles of library books with Netter's Anatomy and Harrison's Principles of Internal Medicine, and I almost completely stopped reading for pleasure. Where I used to easily read a book every week, after the start of medical school, I was reduced to one book on Christmas vacation and one on summer.
As a result, I also stopped going to the library. I could no longer be guaranteed to finish a book within the three-week lending period, and I certainly couldn't be guaranteed to remember to return a book, so there was no longer a place for the library in my life. Instead, I would periodically go to my favourite local bookstore and wander its shelves, dreaming of having time to read all of the books. When I found something that really appealed to me, I would buy it and save it for a rare stretch of holidays.
It wasn't until I finished my licensing exam three years ago that I once again had time to read on a regular basis. But by then, I had gotten so out of the habit of going to the library that it didn't even occur to me to go back. I just kept buying books. Until M started making fun of this increasingly expensive habit.
"Why don't you just go to the library?"
I blinked in confusion. What was a library again? And what purpose did it serve in my life, now that I was earning an income and could afford to to buy my own books?
I was initially resistant to the idea. I wanted to own books! And I didn't want to be limited by the small selection of our one-room local library. Nor did I fancy having to pay overdue fines when I inevitably forgot to return the books.
I would like to say that I was a mature adult and didn't stubbornly refuse to listen to M. But. It took discovering Mr. Money Mustache* and wanting to live within my means to get me to go back to the library. And, just like when I was a kid in a frigid trailer trying to grasp books through my thick wool mittens, I fell in love with it.
Of course, there is the fact that books at the library are free. This is awesome. I have now read 26 library books in 2017 (yay completing my Goodreads challenge!), which has saved me over $500. Based on the 4% safe withdrawal rule, that's $12,500 less that I need to save for retirement by using the library. But it's so much more!
I can take out books I might never read: When I used to buy books, I would be careful to only buy something I was pretty certain I would read to the end. I'd look up reviews, I'd ask friends, and I'd stand in the bookstore reading the first chapter to make sure it was something I liked. Picking a book was a process! And it limited the books I would read to books that I had some reason to think I would like (e.g. a book by a favourite author). But with library books? If a book looks remotely interesting to me, I will take it out. When I see an interesting book suggestion on Twitter or Facebook or someone's blog, I add it to my "To-Read" list (now at over 200 books). It has greatly expanded what I am reading, and my reading life is richer for it.
I don't have to finish a book I don't like: This ties into the previous point, but when I spent $20+ on a book, I felt obligated to finish it, even if I hated it. This has sometimes led to me wasting time on a book that I didn't enjoy or, worse, not reading at all because I didn't want to move on to another book until I finished the one I hated. Not with library books. Hate a book? Return the bloody thing and move on.
I can get books from any library in my city: Until M introduced me to it, I had no idea that there was this thing called inter-library loans that would let me order books from any library using my computer. It's like magic. See a book recommendation, order it online, pick it up on my way home from work within a few days. It is amazing, and it is actually easier than going to the bookstore to buy a book.
The library reminds me to return books: Email reminders of when books are due! This is awesome. I still end up paying fines sometimes, because I am lazy, but I pay far fewer fines because of this. Plus, I can renew books online, which often lets me avoid the fines altogether.
Libraries are part of my community: I recently read Jane Jacob's book "The Death and Life of Great American Cities" (from the library, bien sûr), in which she looks at all of the important elements of a vibrant city. She talks about all of the little daily interactions that contribute to a sense of community - chatting with the local butcher, giving a spare key to a trusted neighbour - and since reading it, I have been thinking a lot more about what makes my community. And, it turns out that the librarians are now part of my community. The three regular librarians recognize me, and we will often spend a few minutes chatting about books or about the librarian's cool necklace made from locally salvaged wood. It's a small thing, but it makes me feel a little more connected to the place I've lived for the past seven years.
So, after this love letter to my favourite place in the city, it is time to read my library book.
Are you a library user? Why or why not?
*I learned today that Americans spell it "mustache" and Brits (and Canadians) spell it "moustache". Who knew? I love language!
My love of libraries and reading lasted until medical school, when it became my job to read and learn. I replaced my piles of library books with Netter's Anatomy and Harrison's Principles of Internal Medicine, and I almost completely stopped reading for pleasure. Where I used to easily read a book every week, after the start of medical school, I was reduced to one book on Christmas vacation and one on summer.
As a result, I also stopped going to the library. I could no longer be guaranteed to finish a book within the three-week lending period, and I certainly couldn't be guaranteed to remember to return a book, so there was no longer a place for the library in my life. Instead, I would periodically go to my favourite local bookstore and wander its shelves, dreaming of having time to read all of the books. When I found something that really appealed to me, I would buy it and save it for a rare stretch of holidays.
It wasn't until I finished my licensing exam three years ago that I once again had time to read on a regular basis. But by then, I had gotten so out of the habit of going to the library that it didn't even occur to me to go back. I just kept buying books. Until M started making fun of this increasingly expensive habit.
"Why don't you just go to the library?"
I blinked in confusion. What was a library again? And what purpose did it serve in my life, now that I was earning an income and could afford to to buy my own books?
I was initially resistant to the idea. I wanted to own books! And I didn't want to be limited by the small selection of our one-room local library. Nor did I fancy having to pay overdue fines when I inevitably forgot to return the books.
I would like to say that I was a mature adult and didn't stubbornly refuse to listen to M. But. It took discovering Mr. Money Mustache* and wanting to live within my means to get me to go back to the library. And, just like when I was a kid in a frigid trailer trying to grasp books through my thick wool mittens, I fell in love with it.
Of course, there is the fact that books at the library are free. This is awesome. I have now read 26 library books in 2017 (yay completing my Goodreads challenge!), which has saved me over $500. Based on the 4% safe withdrawal rule, that's $12,500 less that I need to save for retirement by using the library. But it's so much more!
I can take out books I might never read: When I used to buy books, I would be careful to only buy something I was pretty certain I would read to the end. I'd look up reviews, I'd ask friends, and I'd stand in the bookstore reading the first chapter to make sure it was something I liked. Picking a book was a process! And it limited the books I would read to books that I had some reason to think I would like (e.g. a book by a favourite author). But with library books? If a book looks remotely interesting to me, I will take it out. When I see an interesting book suggestion on Twitter or Facebook or someone's blog, I add it to my "To-Read" list (now at over 200 books). It has greatly expanded what I am reading, and my reading life is richer for it.
I don't have to finish a book I don't like: This ties into the previous point, but when I spent $20+ on a book, I felt obligated to finish it, even if I hated it. This has sometimes led to me wasting time on a book that I didn't enjoy or, worse, not reading at all because I didn't want to move on to another book until I finished the one I hated. Not with library books. Hate a book? Return the bloody thing and move on.
I can get books from any library in my city: Until M introduced me to it, I had no idea that there was this thing called inter-library loans that would let me order books from any library using my computer. It's like magic. See a book recommendation, order it online, pick it up on my way home from work within a few days. It is amazing, and it is actually easier than going to the bookstore to buy a book.
The library reminds me to return books: Email reminders of when books are due! This is awesome. I still end up paying fines sometimes, because I am lazy, but I pay far fewer fines because of this. Plus, I can renew books online, which often lets me avoid the fines altogether.
Libraries are part of my community: I recently read Jane Jacob's book "The Death and Life of Great American Cities" (from the library, bien sûr), in which she looks at all of the important elements of a vibrant city. She talks about all of the little daily interactions that contribute to a sense of community - chatting with the local butcher, giving a spare key to a trusted neighbour - and since reading it, I have been thinking a lot more about what makes my community. And, it turns out that the librarians are now part of my community. The three regular librarians recognize me, and we will often spend a few minutes chatting about books or about the librarian's cool necklace made from locally salvaged wood. It's a small thing, but it makes me feel a little more connected to the place I've lived for the past seven years.
So, after this love letter to my favourite place in the city, it is time to read my library book.
Are you a library user? Why or why not?
*I learned today that Americans spell it "mustache" and Brits (and Canadians) spell it "moustache". Who knew? I love language!
Friday, November 17, 2017
Resisting the Introvert's Tendency to Nest
Despite the winter solstice being over a month away, it is already cold and dark here. Which means that when I'm not at work, I'm happiest when I'm on my couch with a blanket and a good library book. (Currently reading Shrill by Lindy West on the advice of...someone? Twitter? A blog? I really like it!) As an introvert, I can go for very long periods of time with minimal human interaction and actually feel okay about it. Until I emerge from the dark, eyes blinking in the bright sun, and realize that I haven't maintained any important relationships, of course.
I was reminded of the need to nurture relationships this week when I encountered someone who was in hospital and was very much alone. It's bad enough for someone to be in hospital, where the beds are hard, the food is cold and bland, and there is absolutely zero privacy. But to do it completely alone? I never want to be in that position. And even if I am lucky enough to avoid being in hospital, I want to always know that there are people in my life that I can turn to when I need them.
So, immediately after the interaction, I pulled out my phone and started texting. "Friend, want to go for brunch this weekend?" "Friends-who-are-family, let's spend a day together at Christmas and binge watch movies in our pjs!" "Mom, want to come put up the light that I unearthed during my massive purge last weekend?"
(The last one may have been more practical than relationship-building. But that's why we have moms, right? Ideally, at least.)
It's good to be reminded that I need other people. Even when I'd rather be at home in my sweatpants.
I was reminded of the need to nurture relationships this week when I encountered someone who was in hospital and was very much alone. It's bad enough for someone to be in hospital, where the beds are hard, the food is cold and bland, and there is absolutely zero privacy. But to do it completely alone? I never want to be in that position. And even if I am lucky enough to avoid being in hospital, I want to always know that there are people in my life that I can turn to when I need them.
So, immediately after the interaction, I pulled out my phone and started texting. "Friend, want to go for brunch this weekend?" "Friends-who-are-family, let's spend a day together at Christmas and binge watch movies in our pjs!" "Mom, want to come put up the light that I unearthed during my massive purge last weekend?"
(The last one may have been more practical than relationship-building. But that's why we have moms, right? Ideally, at least.)
It's good to be reminded that I need other people. Even when I'd rather be at home in my sweatpants.
Thursday, November 16, 2017
I Really Have To Do This Every Day?
There's nothing like writing a blog post every single day to make you realize how routine and uninteresting your life can be. Today was a typical Thursday: go to work, get lots of paperwork done (I have no clinics on Thursdays), go to my French class, come home. I have to give a presentation tomorrow at 7 oh-my-God-it's-too-bloody-early in the morning, so I also had to spend part of my evening running through the presentation. Always fun.
The act of daily blogging is reminding me of how little extra mental energy I have in my life. I am not overly short on time, as I tend to leave the hospital at a reasonable time most days, but my job exhausts me mentally. After a full day of high-stakes decisions and endlessly talking to people, my highly sensitive, introverted self is worn out. Going to a French lesson and practicing a presentation and writing a blog post is about as much as I can handle in an evening, and I haven't done any of those things particularly well today.
I have huge respect for the people* who come home from a long day of work and then have to care for children. I am honestly really glad that I've never felt a strong desire to have kids, because I think I would lose my mind if I had to come home to whining and disobeying and all of the many secretions that children produce. (One of my friends with kids described her house this week as a "tsunami of diarrhea". Shudder.)
And...that's it for me. Daily blogging is helping me to generate lots of ideas for blog posts, but it isn't leaving me with enough drive to write a long one, so some of those will have to wait for once this month is over and I have more time for things to incubate. For now, this will have to do.
*Not to be too sexist, but I will say especially the women. Because in most households, those are the ones who bear the brunt of everything family/household. For those rare men who are doing their 50% or more, well done.
The act of daily blogging is reminding me of how little extra mental energy I have in my life. I am not overly short on time, as I tend to leave the hospital at a reasonable time most days, but my job exhausts me mentally. After a full day of high-stakes decisions and endlessly talking to people, my highly sensitive, introverted self is worn out. Going to a French lesson and practicing a presentation and writing a blog post is about as much as I can handle in an evening, and I haven't done any of those things particularly well today.
I have huge respect for the people* who come home from a long day of work and then have to care for children. I am honestly really glad that I've never felt a strong desire to have kids, because I think I would lose my mind if I had to come home to whining and disobeying and all of the many secretions that children produce. (One of my friends with kids described her house this week as a "tsunami of diarrhea". Shudder.)
And...that's it for me. Daily blogging is helping me to generate lots of ideas for blog posts, but it isn't leaving me with enough drive to write a long one, so some of those will have to wait for once this month is over and I have more time for things to incubate. For now, this will have to do.
*Not to be too sexist, but I will say especially the women. Because in most households, those are the ones who bear the brunt of everything family/household. For those rare men who are doing their 50% or more, well done.
Wednesday, November 15, 2017
The Weight of Work
I am caring for a lot of very sick people right now, which isn't typical. Most of my patients have chronic, slowly progressive illnesses, so a lot of the work that I do is just checking in on generally healthy people to make sure that everything is okay. Lately though, things haven't been okay. I have patients going for major procedures, patients in hospital, and patients approaching the end of life.
I know that this isn't about me. The people most affected by this are of course the patients themselves and the people who love them. And yet, this is hard for me too. It is hard to be witness to suffering, particularly when there is nothing in my medical bag of tricks that I can use to change the outcome. I can of course offer comfort and support and symptom control, but dammit, sometimes I just want to fix it. I want life to not be the way it is, with illness and death and all of the other bad things.
So tonight I'm lying low. I've passed on trivia night, and I'm sitting in my sweatpants with a steaming bowl of spaghetti bolognase and a cuddly cat. And I'm grieving all of the things I cannot change.
I know that this isn't about me. The people most affected by this are of course the patients themselves and the people who love them. And yet, this is hard for me too. It is hard to be witness to suffering, particularly when there is nothing in my medical bag of tricks that I can use to change the outcome. I can of course offer comfort and support and symptom control, but dammit, sometimes I just want to fix it. I want life to not be the way it is, with illness and death and all of the other bad things.
So tonight I'm lying low. I've passed on trivia night, and I'm sitting in my sweatpants with a steaming bowl of spaghetti bolognase and a cuddly cat. And I'm grieving all of the things I cannot change.
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