My List

It is time to make a list of things to be done before surgery. Countdown 12 days.
My list will be comprehensive to do for work, home and self.

Work
Meet with boss to discuss future
Teach DO to genotype my mice
Get portable hard drive to bring data home
Finish med student evals
Conference call with cards fellows/ ACC program

Home
Pay bills
Fire cleaning guy

Self
Take Calcium/VitD
Get list of books to read
TiVo interesting shows

Pre-op anesthesia

I have my pre-op anesthesia appointment in the morning. Taking a break from admitting patients to the cardiology service I pause to fill out my paperwork. It occurs to me that they are exactly the same forms. Random heart patient presenting with right sided chest discomfort and shortness of breath. Ortho patient (me) presenting with left acetabular labral tear with underlying pelvic dysplasia/ femoral impingement.

They ask if you have ever had difficulty with anesthesia. The truth would be yes. With my miscarriage I was a big girl and did not cry. That was until they dosed me with Versed in holding and then I sobbed all of the way to the OR. Two months later got conscious sedation to set my broken arm. I should have been asleep. Cry I did not, but more embarrassing I babbled about my weight, my calculated BMI and how I would get fat not exercising post broken arm. These experiences leave me feeling very exposed. Emotionally exposed- similar but not exactly the same as the exposure our patients experience in the cath lab while waiting for their groins to be prepped. The thought brings the memory of my hip injection, where I, completely awake was far less embarrassed than the resident who had the duty of preparing my groin for the injection.

These juicy details will not be shared at my appointment in the morning. Because I know what they really need to know is whether I, or a family member ever developed malignant hyperthemia with anesthesia. So I will check the box for no next to "difficulty with anesthesia", but pause to recognize that the physician is privy to only a small part of the whole story.

A holliday mystery

Two years ago we hosted a progressive dinner block party. My neighbor across the street hosted the dinner part. She is deeply passionate environmentalist. Her priority was to host the party without using any paper products. I contributed to effort by offering our back-up dishes which were carried across the street for the party. It was a huge success, many people attended, and at the last minute we ran back to our house to grab more plates. All of our dishes minus the three in the dishwasher attended the party that year.

Christmas and New Years came and went. The plates were not returned. Irritated to be washing the same 3 plates all of the time, but not concerned because we are at work a lot- and it may be difficult to catch us at home.

On a icy Saturday afternoon 3.5 weeks after the party my neighbor showed up at the door. With a nervous laugh she told us she was carrying the plates across the street, the dog pulled the leash, and they all fell, breaking into pieces. All that was left were two dinner plates and a cereal bowl.

It really was not a problem. Still stock at the Crate&Barrel the dishes were replaced.

What was unusual was the time line, the story and the odd delivery of news. Made me wonder if there was more to the story- let my imagination run wild. Late night fight with throwing of dishes perhaps? We will never know.

We did not have a block holiday party last year, but this year my husband and I hosted......

Worst days of a life

Walking over from the parking garage this morning I walked through the worst day of a families life. Three women gathered outside of the Cardiothoracic ICU grief stricken. Who knows what was happening- I just passed by. So this is what happens after doctors deliver news. We are taught to be clear, firm and strong. Compassionate by acting immune to their response- providing a sense of order. The doctor, the one in control, has seen to it that everything that could be done has been done. Their response, whatever form grief takes is allowed, welcomed. On occasion the physician's eyes may well up with tears- the most rare form on tears I am told- tears of compassion. For only a moment, however before rushing off to the next patient. Leaving the family there, living the reality they cannot escape. Played out in the dramas of life each of us takes our turn in the role of physician, family and even patient.

The absent hostess.

Staring at a half empty (full) bowl of chocolate chip cookie dough and glancing at the clock. 11 AM. There is no way that I am going to make it. Out of bed this morning at 9 (should have been 7). Bake cookes, organize kitchen, pick up house, go to the lab, host party. The first three went well. Driving to my house one hour after the party started it occured to me that I work too much. Arriving to a home full of neighbors, they welomed me and said how great it was that I could make it. Meaningful are the hugs and conversations shared with the great people that live on our block. Meaningless are the data collected from the experiment started on Friday afternoon and completed at 445 PM today. On auto pilot it made sense that after my board exam was over I would throw myself into my research. Eight weeks on crutches, a few months without data, a serious blow to my career. Working as hard as I possibly can before my leave is the way I make it okay. In case you are wondering, I do have incite into my extreme nature. Seeking balance is the reason I planned the party in the first place. Too busy to even think about being angry- now that is an improvement.