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?
Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 22, 2017
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.
Sunday, July 3, 2016
Taking the Real World with You
When I went to Chicago for the first time in 2012, I had just finished my first month as a senior resident in a Medical-Surgical Intensive Care Unit. That rotation was one of the most difficult months of my entire training. My medical knowledge and patient management skills were challenged beyond anything I had ever experienced, and I lived in constant fear that my ignorance and/or incompetence was going to kill someone. With only three residents in the unit, we were forced to take call every third night*, such that I was making difficult patient care decisions through a haze of severe sleep deprivation.
And then there were the patients.
Because the unit was home to the sickest patients in the hospital, death was a constant presence. The worst night of my training happened in that unit: over the course of a 15-hour overnight period, I admitted or ran a code on eight patients, not a single one of whom survived to the morning**. At 8 am, one of my co-residents walked into the unit, looked at the near-empty patient list, and nonchalantly commented "Oh, looks like you had a quiet night". In another situation her comment would've made me bawl, but I was too emotionally drained to do anything more than put my head on the desk and moan. It was a hard month.
My ICU rotation was followed by two weeks of vacation, which I had initially planned to spend relaxing at home and visiting with friends and family. But as I dragged myself through the too-long days of ICU, subsisting on digestive biscuits and ice cream cups that were intended for patients, I knew that I needed something better to look forward to in order to make it to the end of the rotation. So, a few days before I was finished with ICU, while lying nearly immobile on my couch in a post-call stupor, I booked an impromptu trip to Chicago. Leaving at 6 am on the first day of my vacation.
It was an amazing trip. Chicago was a beautiful city filled with interesting places to visit and a seemingly unending list of great places to eat. The weather was perfect. I lucked out and got a great hotel room on the 22nd floor that looked directly towards the Chicago River and the Wrigley Building. And for one week I didn't have to take orders or give orders or feel people's pulses slip away as I held my hand over their femoral arteries. It was the perfect escape.
I had hoped that my trip to Chicago this past weekend would be just as amazing. And I will say that it was mostly fun, lest I seem ungrateful for having the good fortune to be able to travel to such a remarkable place. I got to show my Mom a city that I love; I got to meet Carlos from Top Chef season 11 and eat in his amazing restaurant; and I left the pressures of work behind for four days.
But.
My family is not always easy. My Mom is going through a difficult period, still struggling to cope with the death of my father six years ago, and there was understandably a lot of time and attention devoted to what she's going through. She also snores. Loudly. And unpredictably. I spent the first night on the couch to get away from her, and the second night I severely pissed her off by making her sleep in my brother's room. Thankfully he is so perpetually exhausted that he can sleep through anything.
And then there's my brother. While I love him (really...I love him), he and I see the world through very different lenses***. I am an unapologetically left-wing, environmentally minded, socialistic granola cruncher. My brother takes ten napkins at Chipotle and throws out nine unused ones. If we could simply agree to disagree, we would probably get along much better; however, we both think that we have all the answers to the world's problems, and we are determined to share them with each other. So there was some conflict. He said I was judgemental. I may have called him an asshole.
The good thing about family is that they are always your family. Even if you call them an asshole.
*The resident contract in my province stipulates that residents cannot take call more than once every four days, on average; however, in situations where "patient care would otherwise be compromised", that rule can be overlooked. Hence the one-in-three call.
**I refuse to believe that this reflects on my skill as a physician in any way. The patients were simply that sick. Most of them didn't make it to the end of the code blue.
***Thankfully he isn't a Trump supporter. There are some things that I cannot forgive, even when it's family.
And then there were the patients.
Because the unit was home to the sickest patients in the hospital, death was a constant presence. The worst night of my training happened in that unit: over the course of a 15-hour overnight period, I admitted or ran a code on eight patients, not a single one of whom survived to the morning**. At 8 am, one of my co-residents walked into the unit, looked at the near-empty patient list, and nonchalantly commented "Oh, looks like you had a quiet night". In another situation her comment would've made me bawl, but I was too emotionally drained to do anything more than put my head on the desk and moan. It was a hard month.
My ICU rotation was followed by two weeks of vacation, which I had initially planned to spend relaxing at home and visiting with friends and family. But as I dragged myself through the too-long days of ICU, subsisting on digestive biscuits and ice cream cups that were intended for patients, I knew that I needed something better to look forward to in order to make it to the end of the rotation. So, a few days before I was finished with ICU, while lying nearly immobile on my couch in a post-call stupor, I booked an impromptu trip to Chicago. Leaving at 6 am on the first day of my vacation.
It was an amazing trip. Chicago was a beautiful city filled with interesting places to visit and a seemingly unending list of great places to eat. The weather was perfect. I lucked out and got a great hotel room on the 22nd floor that looked directly towards the Chicago River and the Wrigley Building. And for one week I didn't have to take orders or give orders or feel people's pulses slip away as I held my hand over their femoral arteries. It was the perfect escape.
I had hoped that my trip to Chicago this past weekend would be just as amazing. And I will say that it was mostly fun, lest I seem ungrateful for having the good fortune to be able to travel to such a remarkable place. I got to show my Mom a city that I love; I got to meet Carlos from Top Chef season 11 and eat in his amazing restaurant; and I left the pressures of work behind for four days.
But.
My family is not always easy. My Mom is going through a difficult period, still struggling to cope with the death of my father six years ago, and there was understandably a lot of time and attention devoted to what she's going through. She also snores. Loudly. And unpredictably. I spent the first night on the couch to get away from her, and the second night I severely pissed her off by making her sleep in my brother's room. Thankfully he is so perpetually exhausted that he can sleep through anything.
And then there's my brother. While I love him (really...I love him), he and I see the world through very different lenses***. I am an unapologetically left-wing, environmentally minded, socialistic granola cruncher. My brother takes ten napkins at Chipotle and throws out nine unused ones. If we could simply agree to disagree, we would probably get along much better; however, we both think that we have all the answers to the world's problems, and we are determined to share them with each other. So there was some conflict. He said I was judgemental. I may have called him an asshole.
The good thing about family is that they are always your family. Even if you call them an asshole.
*The resident contract in my province stipulates that residents cannot take call more than once every four days, on average; however, in situations where "patient care would otherwise be compromised", that rule can be overlooked. Hence the one-in-three call.
**I refuse to believe that this reflects on my skill as a physician in any way. The patients were simply that sick. Most of them didn't make it to the end of the code blue.
***Thankfully he isn't a Trump supporter. There are some things that I cannot forgive, even when it's family.
Thursday, January 28, 2016
Goals: Review of January/Plan for February
Well...
My main goal for January, if you remember, was to go to the gym three times per week. I think the best phrase to describe my performance is epic fail. In total, I think I made it five times. And the fifth only happened because my girlfriend resisted my desperate pleas to stay in the warm bed this morning and dragged me to the gym.
Part of the failure wasn't my fault. Soon after recovering from my horrible Christmas cold, at approximately the time when my chapped nostrils were starting to heal and I was getting used to being able to breathe without choking on phlegm, I got another cold. So for at least 3-4 days I didn't have the respiratory function to run on the treadmill. The rest of the failure was clearly my fault. Some of the excuses I used for skipping the gym included not getting enough sleep, feeling groggy from getting too much sleep, the bed is warm, and of course "I don't want to".
I don't know how to do better. While my resolve is generally good when I'm thinking about going to the gym during the day, it is abysmal at 6:45 in the morning when the room is dark and I am buried under my favourite duvet. I'm hopeful that my girlfriend will be a positive influence, as she has committed to working out regularly, and she's vastly better at sticking to habits than I am. (She still wears her retainer at night. Over a decade after her braces came off. I think I might have done that for a month, if that.) I know that it isn't enough to rely on my girlfriend's commitment, but maybe her encouragement will help me in the early stages of developing this habit.
Recycled February goal: Go to the gym three days a week.
My other January goal was to find a counselor. Success! Thanks to a service for physicians, I've actually been able to get an appointment with a psychiatrist for an initial assessment next week. I'm a bit nervous about it because 1) it's in the hospital where I work and 2) I know some of the psychiatrists who are on the treatment team. I can't say I like the possibility that someone I know, or worse yet one of my colleagues, could find out about this. But...I believe very strongly that we shouldn't stigmatize mental illness, particularly in medical professionals, and one of the ways of breaking down the stigma is to show that good, competent physicians can struggle with mental health issues. So I'm just going to suck it up and do it.
Second February goal: Don't chicken out and skip the assessment with the psychiatrist.
Because it's rather boring to just recycle old goals, I'm setting one new big goal for the month. I wrote recently about how much I hate winter, and my hatred just seems to grow as the season continues with no sign of an end. Despite my plans to embrace winter, I've been doing a spectacular job of staying home on my couch, which isn't doing anything to make me a happier person. So, I've set myself a goal of making two social plans with friends or family for every week in February. It doesn't matter what it is, as long as it requires me to change out of my sweatpants and spend time with another person. And it can't just be my girlfriend or friends of my girlfriend, as I'm way too reliant on her for social interactions (a problem when introverts date extroverts, and something I've been meaning to blog about for a while). It has to be someone whose primary connection is to me.
It's been kind of fun to brainstorm things that I can do over the next month. While restaurants and movies will undoubtedly feature heavily in my plans, I'm also thinking about taking my nieces to a play, having friends over for games, and hosting a potluck. And maybe even going skating with friends in an attempt to get over my hatred of this miserable season.
Any other creative ideas?
Third February goal: Spend time with people I love. At least twice a week. The girlfriend doesn't count.
My main goal for January, if you remember, was to go to the gym three times per week. I think the best phrase to describe my performance is epic fail. In total, I think I made it five times. And the fifth only happened because my girlfriend resisted my desperate pleas to stay in the warm bed this morning and dragged me to the gym.
Part of the failure wasn't my fault. Soon after recovering from my horrible Christmas cold, at approximately the time when my chapped nostrils were starting to heal and I was getting used to being able to breathe without choking on phlegm, I got another cold. So for at least 3-4 days I didn't have the respiratory function to run on the treadmill. The rest of the failure was clearly my fault. Some of the excuses I used for skipping the gym included not getting enough sleep, feeling groggy from getting too much sleep, the bed is warm, and of course "I don't want to".
I don't know how to do better. While my resolve is generally good when I'm thinking about going to the gym during the day, it is abysmal at 6:45 in the morning when the room is dark and I am buried under my favourite duvet. I'm hopeful that my girlfriend will be a positive influence, as she has committed to working out regularly, and she's vastly better at sticking to habits than I am. (She still wears her retainer at night. Over a decade after her braces came off. I think I might have done that for a month, if that.) I know that it isn't enough to rely on my girlfriend's commitment, but maybe her encouragement will help me in the early stages of developing this habit.
Recycled February goal: Go to the gym three days a week.
My other January goal was to find a counselor. Success! Thanks to a service for physicians, I've actually been able to get an appointment with a psychiatrist for an initial assessment next week. I'm a bit nervous about it because 1) it's in the hospital where I work and 2) I know some of the psychiatrists who are on the treatment team. I can't say I like the possibility that someone I know, or worse yet one of my colleagues, could find out about this. But...I believe very strongly that we shouldn't stigmatize mental illness, particularly in medical professionals, and one of the ways of breaking down the stigma is to show that good, competent physicians can struggle with mental health issues. So I'm just going to suck it up and do it.
Second February goal: Don't chicken out and skip the assessment with the psychiatrist.
Because it's rather boring to just recycle old goals, I'm setting one new big goal for the month. I wrote recently about how much I hate winter, and my hatred just seems to grow as the season continues with no sign of an end. Despite my plans to embrace winter, I've been doing a spectacular job of staying home on my couch, which isn't doing anything to make me a happier person. So, I've set myself a goal of making two social plans with friends or family for every week in February. It doesn't matter what it is, as long as it requires me to change out of my sweatpants and spend time with another person. And it can't just be my girlfriend or friends of my girlfriend, as I'm way too reliant on her for social interactions (a problem when introverts date extroverts, and something I've been meaning to blog about for a while). It has to be someone whose primary connection is to me.
It's been kind of fun to brainstorm things that I can do over the next month. While restaurants and movies will undoubtedly feature heavily in my plans, I'm also thinking about taking my nieces to a play, having friends over for games, and hosting a potluck. And maybe even going skating with friends in an attempt to get over my hatred of this miserable season.
Any other creative ideas?
Third February goal: Spend time with people I love. At least twice a week. The girlfriend doesn't count.
Tuesday, July 28, 2015
Inclusion/Exclusion
My girlfriend is part of a very tightly knit church community; I, as an atheist, clearly am not. In the beginning, we thought that this might be a major issue in our relationship, but it hasn't proven to be nearly as problematic as we had feared. The other church members have been almost universally welcoming to me, despite the fact that their faith does not officially sanction same-sex relationships (and is certainly not in support of same-sex marriage). I've eaten meals with church members, cuddled their children, and even attended a few services without bursting into flames. All has gone very well.
Occasionally, however, issues do arise. One of the biggest has been the issue of "small group", which is a group of church members who meet every few weeks to share a meal and discussion of their faith. This is a major social and community event for my girlfriend, as well as for her family, with whom I've grown quite close over the past year and a half. Because the group members discuss things that are going on in their lives (including personal struggles and disappointments), the events are closed to "outsiders" to encourage openness and honesty. Which means that I, the atheist, am not invited.
And sometimes this feels hard. It's difficult to be excluded from something that is so central to my girlfriend's life, especially when all of the other family members (including my girlfriend's new sister-in-law) are automatically included*. And yet, aside from my relationship to my girlfriend, I don't really have a right or a reason to be there. I'm certainly not going to contribute anything to the bible study, and it would only be awkward if the group offered to pray for me after I told them of something difficult in my life. I don't quite know whether I should just accept the status quo, or force myself on a group to which I may not even want to belong.
Any thoughts?
*Not to mention the food I'm missing out on. Perogies! Farmer's sausage! Baking in all its myriad of forms! These people are amazing cooks.
Occasionally, however, issues do arise. One of the biggest has been the issue of "small group", which is a group of church members who meet every few weeks to share a meal and discussion of their faith. This is a major social and community event for my girlfriend, as well as for her family, with whom I've grown quite close over the past year and a half. Because the group members discuss things that are going on in their lives (including personal struggles and disappointments), the events are closed to "outsiders" to encourage openness and honesty. Which means that I, the atheist, am not invited.
And sometimes this feels hard. It's difficult to be excluded from something that is so central to my girlfriend's life, especially when all of the other family members (including my girlfriend's new sister-in-law) are automatically included*. And yet, aside from my relationship to my girlfriend, I don't really have a right or a reason to be there. I'm certainly not going to contribute anything to the bible study, and it would only be awkward if the group offered to pray for me after I told them of something difficult in my life. I don't quite know whether I should just accept the status quo, or force myself on a group to which I may not even want to belong.
Any thoughts?
*Not to mention the food I'm missing out on. Perogies! Farmer's sausage! Baking in all its myriad of forms! These people are amazing cooks.
Friday, June 12, 2015
Things I Learned on My Vacation (Most of Which I Already Knew)
Today is my last full day in New Brunswick, and I've snuck away to the sitting room for a few minutes of silence. In other parts of the house, my almost-90-year-old grandmother is playing classic show tunes on the piano, my aunt is spinning tales while chopping a seemingly endless pile of vegetables, and my Mom is laughing at my aunt while frying 5 pounds of scallops* for Coquilles Saint-Jacques. While I know that these are the sounds of life and love and family, I do find myself pining for the relative quiet of the one-bedroom apartment that I share with my love (and two asshole felines).
As it's almost the end of my trip, rather than recount the details of my travel that are interesting to no one but myself, I thought I'd share a few observations that I've made in my time away from home.
1) I hate being away from my girlfriend: She stayed back at home because of work (and being hesitant to meet all of my family simultaneously at a wedding), and I have missed her every single day. I miss rolling over to stare at her in the morning, waiting for her to wake up so that I can cuddle with her and tell her my dreams. I miss coming home to her at night and hearing about her day. I miss spending way too much time cooking supper with her and then being too lazy to clean up the kitchen afterwards. I'm clearly smitten.
2) I am unquestionably an introvert: My Maritime family is large...and loud. There is always someone around, and they are usually moving at top speed within a cloud of noise and chaos. As much as I love them, my introverted self has found it a bit overwhelming, and I've had to hide away from people on a regular basis. My Mom and I spent three nights alone at my grandmother's cottage, and I could feel myself recharging in the stillness and quiet.
3) I pack too much stuff when I travel: I had planned to go more minimalist and pack only my medium-sized suitcase (from a set of three), but my Mom asked me to bring out the largest one so that she could "bring some stuff back with her". No longer constrained by space, I found myself throwing in all kinds of things I was never going to use - a second dress (getting me into a dress for a wedding is miracle enough), a fourth pair of shoes, multiple pairs of dress pants. It's ridiculous, especially because we've changed location five times in ten days, and I've had to carry the stupidly heavy suitcase up and down multiple flights of stairs. In the future, I'm bringing one outfit and washing it in the sink every night.
4) I need very little to be happy: My vacation has included lots of exciting things, like trips to Peggy's Cove and Lunenburg, a tour of an artisinal distillery, and many fancy meals out. My favourite moments though? Waking up to the sounds of shorebirds outside my bedroom window. Cuddling with my cousin's adorable one-year-old daughter. Lying on the couch where my grandfather used to nap every day after lunch. When traveling in the future, I need to remember that it's the simple things that I most enjoy.
And now the doorbell has rung, bringing another group of relatives into the home. Time for me to make nice and play the extrovert for a while**.
*The scallops were supposed to have been taken home with us and eaten over weeks to months, but there was a malfunction of the system to keep them frozen, so instead we're binge-eating scallops. Life is hard.
**I was going to include photos, but I think my Mom will kill me if I hide away any longer. A photo post is coming soon!
As it's almost the end of my trip, rather than recount the details of my travel that are interesting to no one but myself, I thought I'd share a few observations that I've made in my time away from home.
1) I hate being away from my girlfriend: She stayed back at home because of work (and being hesitant to meet all of my family simultaneously at a wedding), and I have missed her every single day. I miss rolling over to stare at her in the morning, waiting for her to wake up so that I can cuddle with her and tell her my dreams. I miss coming home to her at night and hearing about her day. I miss spending way too much time cooking supper with her and then being too lazy to clean up the kitchen afterwards. I'm clearly smitten.
2) I am unquestionably an introvert: My Maritime family is large...and loud. There is always someone around, and they are usually moving at top speed within a cloud of noise and chaos. As much as I love them, my introverted self has found it a bit overwhelming, and I've had to hide away from people on a regular basis. My Mom and I spent three nights alone at my grandmother's cottage, and I could feel myself recharging in the stillness and quiet.
3) I pack too much stuff when I travel: I had planned to go more minimalist and pack only my medium-sized suitcase (from a set of three), but my Mom asked me to bring out the largest one so that she could "bring some stuff back with her". No longer constrained by space, I found myself throwing in all kinds of things I was never going to use - a second dress (getting me into a dress for a wedding is miracle enough), a fourth pair of shoes, multiple pairs of dress pants. It's ridiculous, especially because we've changed location five times in ten days, and I've had to carry the stupidly heavy suitcase up and down multiple flights of stairs. In the future, I'm bringing one outfit and washing it in the sink every night.
4) I need very little to be happy: My vacation has included lots of exciting things, like trips to Peggy's Cove and Lunenburg, a tour of an artisinal distillery, and many fancy meals out. My favourite moments though? Waking up to the sounds of shorebirds outside my bedroom window. Cuddling with my cousin's adorable one-year-old daughter. Lying on the couch where my grandfather used to nap every day after lunch. When traveling in the future, I need to remember that it's the simple things that I most enjoy.
And now the doorbell has rung, bringing another group of relatives into the home. Time for me to make nice and play the extrovert for a while**.
*The scallops were supposed to have been taken home with us and eaten over weeks to months, but there was a malfunction of the system to keep them frozen, so instead we're binge-eating scallops. Life is hard.
**I was going to include photos, but I think my Mom will kill me if I hide away any longer. A photo post is coming soon!
Sunday, May 17, 2015
Gifts
My birthday was yesterday, which means that I have recently gone through another round of my annual ritual of telling the people who love me "No, seriously, I don't want you to buy me anything". As soon as I became an adult, with a job and the ability to buy myself the things I want, I stopped enjoying getting gifts. The reasons for this are many. I hate getting things that I don't like and having to pretend that I do. I hate having more things to store in my apartment, which was already full when my girlfriend (who is a hoarder less of a minimalist than I am) moved in. I hate knowing that the people I love have spent time, which they usually don't have enough of, in a shopping mall instead of with me. And I particularly hate that gift giving perpetuates our debt-fueled, environmentally destructive consumer culture.
"Surprise! I love you! Here’s a part of the planet I wrecked for you, Hooray!!"*
A few weeks ago, when my Mom asked me what I wanted for my birthday, I tried again to tell her that I didn't want any gifts. Unfortunately, any time I suggest that she not buy me a present, she looks at me as if I have suggested we go out and murder babies. The gift-giving mentality is very strong with her. So I tried to suggest a) alternatives to gifts and b) practical gifts that I would actually use. I suggested that she give me a certain amount of her time, which she could use hanging pictures and putting up blinds and doing other things in my apartment that are outside of my skill set. I suggested that she make me a nice dinner at her place and we spend a few hours catching up on each others' lives. I suggested that she get my medical degree framed, so that I can take it out of the cupboard where it's been collecting dust for the past five years and display it in my fancy-pants new office. None of these things was acceptable to her.
So what did I get? A cheque. My widowed mother, who is on a fixed income, gave money to me, who will soon be earning ridiculous sums of money as a physician**. How does this make sense? How is this better than her hanging the pictures from my trip to Cuba that have been taking up space behind my couch since I moved in five years ago?
Gift giving is insane.
I encountered another example of this insanity when I was talking to my Mom about my cousin's upcoming wedding. I am spending money that I don't have to fly halfway across the country for the wedding, so I feel like I am justified in being a bitcheap frugal with the gift. I suggested to my Mom that I was going to get a $50 gift card to the store where my cousin is registered, and she once again looked at me like I was heading out to murder babies. She thought I should be spending closer to $200 on the gift! What? Why should I, who am trying to dig myself out from a giant pit of student debt, be spending ridiculous sums of money on a gift for my cousin (who has a job) and her soon-to-be husband (who also has a job)? Why is this the expectation?
Rant over. Thankfully it's another seven months until I have to deal with Christmas.
*I've been obsessively reading Mr. Money Mustache for the past month or so, and it is transforming my approach to spending and debt. The article that I linked to is one of my personal favourites and describes my feelings about gift giving much more eloquently than I can.
**Admittedly, I will be using these ridiculous sums of money to pay off my equally ridiculous debt...but that's not the point.
"Surprise! I love you! Here’s a part of the planet I wrecked for you, Hooray!!"*
A few weeks ago, when my Mom asked me what I wanted for my birthday, I tried again to tell her that I didn't want any gifts. Unfortunately, any time I suggest that she not buy me a present, she looks at me as if I have suggested we go out and murder babies. The gift-giving mentality is very strong with her. So I tried to suggest a) alternatives to gifts and b) practical gifts that I would actually use. I suggested that she give me a certain amount of her time, which she could use hanging pictures and putting up blinds and doing other things in my apartment that are outside of my skill set. I suggested that she make me a nice dinner at her place and we spend a few hours catching up on each others' lives. I suggested that she get my medical degree framed, so that I can take it out of the cupboard where it's been collecting dust for the past five years and display it in my fancy-pants new office. None of these things was acceptable to her.
So what did I get? A cheque. My widowed mother, who is on a fixed income, gave money to me, who will soon be earning ridiculous sums of money as a physician**. How does this make sense? How is this better than her hanging the pictures from my trip to Cuba that have been taking up space behind my couch since I moved in five years ago?
Gift giving is insane.
I encountered another example of this insanity when I was talking to my Mom about my cousin's upcoming wedding. I am spending money that I don't have to fly halfway across the country for the wedding, so I feel like I am justified in being a bit
Rant over. Thankfully it's another seven months until I have to deal with Christmas.
*I've been obsessively reading Mr. Money Mustache for the past month or so, and it is transforming my approach to spending and debt. The article that I linked to is one of my personal favourites and describes my feelings about gift giving much more eloquently than I can.
**Admittedly, I will be using these ridiculous sums of money to pay off my equally ridiculous debt...but that's not the point.
Thursday, April 2, 2015
Long Weekend Plans
Thanks to everyone who responded to my recent question about how to respect my girlfriend's privacy when blogging. As I read each comment, I thought "Yes! That's it!", despite the fact that each response was very different from the others. I guess there are multiple ways of handling this issue...I'll let you know when I figure out which one I'm going to use.
But now, time to look forward to my four days off with no pager and few responsibilities! What am I planning to do, you wonder?
1) Haircut: Not glamorous, but so necessary. My previous hairstylist, whom I loved, moved away almost a year ago, and I've been trying to find a good new one ever since. The last one I tried definitely wasn't a good one, and I'm really looking forward to someone undoing the damage she did to my hair. Here's hoping tonight's stylist is better.
2) Cooking: The girlfriend and I both love to cook and bake, and we have some epic plans for the weekend. Wareniki with schmaunfat, scalloped potatoes, and no-knead bread top the list.
What is wareniki with shmaunfat, you ask?
Mmmmm. They will take forever to make, but it will be worth it.
3) Family: Tomorrow night is dinner with the girlfriend's family, and Sunday night is dinner with mine. I felt very cut off from family while I was away on elective, so it will be nice to have some extended time to get caught up with them and reconnect.
4) Read: I stopped at the library on the way home from work today and picked up two new books, which I am looking forward to reading in my pajamas (probably while cuddling a cat or two). The first is Adult Onset, by Canadian author Ann-Marie MacDonald. This novel tells the story of a gay woman who tries to come to terms with her difficult childhood while caring for her own young children. I started reading it a few months ago, but gave up because I had reached the due date. It's a bit on the heavy and depressing side, but I'm willing to plod through to the end because Ann-Marie MacDonald is a good writer and because there just isn't that much good LGBTQ writing out there. (Or is there? Anyone have any good suggestions for me?)
The second book, which I may or may not get to this weekend, is Complications by Atul Gawande. I don't know much about it, other than that it's written by a surgeon, but I'm hoping it'll tide me over until the book of his that I really want to read (Being Mortal) is available.
5) Rest: I took two days off sick with a cold this week, and I am still hacking up a lung, so I am hoping that in the midst of baking and celebrating and being busy that there will be some time to sleep and recover. Wishful thinking?
What are you planning for your weekend?
But now, time to look forward to my four days off with no pager and few responsibilities! What am I planning to do, you wonder?
1) Haircut: Not glamorous, but so necessary. My previous hairstylist, whom I loved, moved away almost a year ago, and I've been trying to find a good new one ever since. The last one I tried definitely wasn't a good one, and I'm really looking forward to someone undoing the damage she did to my hair. Here's hoping tonight's stylist is better.
2) Cooking: The girlfriend and I both love to cook and bake, and we have some epic plans for the weekend. Wareniki with schmaunfat, scalloped potatoes, and no-knead bread top the list.
What is wareniki with shmaunfat, you ask?
Mmmmm. They will take forever to make, but it will be worth it.
3) Family: Tomorrow night is dinner with the girlfriend's family, and Sunday night is dinner with mine. I felt very cut off from family while I was away on elective, so it will be nice to have some extended time to get caught up with them and reconnect.
4) Read: I stopped at the library on the way home from work today and picked up two new books, which I am looking forward to reading in my pajamas (probably while cuddling a cat or two). The first is Adult Onset, by Canadian author Ann-Marie MacDonald. This novel tells the story of a gay woman who tries to come to terms with her difficult childhood while caring for her own young children. I started reading it a few months ago, but gave up because I had reached the due date. It's a bit on the heavy and depressing side, but I'm willing to plod through to the end because Ann-Marie MacDonald is a good writer and because there just isn't that much good LGBTQ writing out there. (Or is there? Anyone have any good suggestions for me?)
The second book, which I may or may not get to this weekend, is Complications by Atul Gawande. I don't know much about it, other than that it's written by a surgeon, but I'm hoping it'll tide me over until the book of his that I really want to read (Being Mortal) is available.
5) Rest: I took two days off sick with a cold this week, and I am still hacking up a lung, so I am hoping that in the midst of baking and celebrating and being busy that there will be some time to sleep and recover. Wishful thinking?
What are you planning for your weekend?
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