What goes around

Yesterday sucked. After starting the morning in the NICU at 6 AM, I got "tricked" into a situation that forced me to stay in my weekly continuity clinic until 6:30 PM last night (oh the sheer agony of it all). I was extremely frustrated by the entire situation and wasn't as eager as usual to get to work today.

In stark contrast, today's day at work was fabulous. I arrived in the NICU and checked the patient board out of habit. For about 1.5 seconds, my heart stopped; one of my very favorite patients was no longer on the board. I thought to myself, "Oh no ... it couldn't have happened ... she was doing so well ... wait a second, there's her name -- she moved rooms! She's ACN!!!" For the uninitiated, we divide our babies into 3 main categories: 1) intensive care nursery (ICN) -- the sickest ones who aren't doing so well and need high levels of attention, 2) acute care nursery (ACN) -- babies who still require monitoring but are on the mend, and 3) continued care nursery (CCN) -- little guys and gals who are usually just learning how to eat all their meals by mouth and not a tube so that they can go home. My little one had done so well that after 2 months in ICN, she finally moved down right before I'm about to hand her off to another resident on Monday. It was a great thing to see her doing better. Another one of my very favorite patients also officially made the move to CCN today and is preparing to go home early next week after over 3 months in the NICU; today was just a great day for my babies! Since I didn't have any ICNs to check out at our 3 PM ICN rounds, I got to leave work 2 hours early today -- another FABULOUS thing after my long day last night. Only 7 hours at the hospital today instead of 12.5!!

After that, my day took a momentary dip. I discovered my husband has unfortunately been requested to be out in California for at least an additional two weeks of the new year. Secret translation of his company = ha ha, we got you now; see your wife in June! I know it's not really like that, but I was so upset and so disappointed that I called my mom and just started to cry. I can't even enjoy my marriage most of the time because we're hours and miles apart, and I ache to my very soul without him. As I cried to my mom (who was a medicine widow herself for several years as my dad did his residency), I drove down the road to Target. Then I spotted him ... about 5 seconds too late. The motorcycle cop on the side of the road walked out in front of me as I was going 10 miles over the speed limit and motioned me on to the side street. Oh no! I hung up the phone and rolled down the window. He asked me for my license and insurance, and I asked if I could get out of the car to get my wallet from the back seat. I didn't offer excuses, and I tried my best to dry my tears. I knew I was speeding, and I knew I was wrong; there was no point in trying to argue my way out of the ticket because I knew I deserved it. I was still wearing my scrubs and pager as I stepped out of the car, and when I handed him my license, he asked me where I worked. I told him, and he asked me what exactly I did. I told him I was a first year resident, and the conversation proceeded like this:

Officer: Yeah, you probably really don't need a ticket right now, do you?
Me: Well, no ... (my voice starts to crack and tears start to roll) and I just found out my husband's job in California got extended two more weeks, so he won't be home when we planned.
Officer: (as he hands me my license) Ma'am, please just try to pay more attention next time. Have a nice day.

I thanked him profusely and climbed back into my car. Before I could turn around and drive off, he already had another car pulled over. I couldn't believe it! I was totally prepared to accept the ticket, and the kind officer showed me mercy and didn't punish me for speeding. This incident helped me to put things into perspective and remember what a great and merciful God we have. I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength ... all things.

Head above water

Okay, Todd, okay ... I apologize for the lack of blog material, but everything in my life lately has seemed too serious for an entry or too stupid to waste time writing about it. Add to that my complete lack of time on the computer, and you get no new blog material. Todd, Laurie and Jeanine (whom I would love to meet one day), my faithful readers, here is an entry just for you.

Life is moving too quickly before my eyes. I'm two weeks into my four week neonatal intensive care unit (NICU) rotation, and the things I've seen have blown my mind. It's crazy how little these babies are; it's even crazier the abilities we have to help them. 37-40 weeks gestation is considered full term, and our hospital will make the effort to save babies as young as 23 weeks and as small as a pound at birth (although there is frequently a certain amount of ethical dilemma involved in treating those that little versus letting nature take its course since the prognosis is so poor). I don't think I could do this forever, but now that I've learned the rules of neonatology (totally different from the general rules of pediatrics -- go figure), it's getting to be more fun. I just love the babies; I make it a point to do at least one feeding per call night. Holding the little ones is so relaxing, and some of these babies are just so cuddly! Taking care of some of the extremely sick babies is so hard; you get very emotionally attached to them, and when things don't work out perfectly, it hurts.

At least I'm back on a more human(e) schedule. The first week in the NICU, I was getting up at 4:15 every morning to make it to work by 5 or a little earlier; now that I'm getting the system down, I'm only getting up at 5. It is still weird to leave for work when it's dark and occasionally not leave for home until it's dark again; at least I'm not fighting my circadian rhythm anymore. My husband has been home for a large part of the last two weeks (only gone for four out of fourteen days!), and since tomorrow is his birthday, he gets to stay in town for an extra day. Having him home has been amazing; this is the most time we've spent together since July. I've had the chance to make dinner several nights, and even though it was nothing fancy, it was still great to cook for two. I've already had 3 out of my 4 days off this month, and he's been in town for all of them. We have almost finished the Christmas shopping (thank goodness for amazon.com) and have even put up our Christmas tree. Life has been pretty decent lately, and I'm very thankful for everything that's going on. I have never had a year harder than this one, but in spite of everything, I am still joyful.

Untitled

Ever have those moments when you're so tired, confused, and hurting that you don't know what to say to God but are just glad that He's there?

I'm there now.

Ironic

My husband is going to flip when he reads this. It's totally amazing that I know how to save children's lives and treat their medical conditions (although admittedly I still have years of learning ahead of me), yet I'm forgetful enough to leave my keys in the front door. Some nice lady just knocked on my door to let me know they were there. Yikes.

In other news, I only have three more nights of sleeping at home in my comfortable bed for a while. I'm starting night float on Sunday, meaning I'll be at the hospital from 1 PM Sunday to 7 AM Monday and then from 7 PM Monday to 7 AM Tuesday and so on through Friday morning. I'll be covering the subspecialty services for the next 4 weeks, so I'll be a little vampire! :)

I'm trying to decide what to be for Halloween. Since I'll be spending the night at the hospital, all the residents who are on that day are planning on dressing up. I need a practical costume, but I don't want to spend much (if any) money on it. I was thinking about going as a redneck; I have a camouflage shirt that has my name embroidered on it, but I don't know if that would be politically incorrect to wear that with some pigtails and a John Deere hat. No, I did not pay any money for this shirt; it's a long story, but an ex-boyfriend's mom bought me the shirt and had my name embroidered in tan lettering on the shirt. I've yet to wear it, but it's so hilarious that I couldn't bear to throw it away.

Any other ideas or suggestions? And please don't say "be a doctor" ... I already wear scrubs all the time!

Nine more months!!!!

Ha ha ... no, not THAT. Over the next seven to nine months, we're going to be building our new house!! We put down earnest money last Sunday after church to build a new house in Irving, and we are both so excited. While we were signing the papers, our salesperson was explaining the whole building process to us and going over some of the details such as all the meetings we'll have to attend. She made the statement, "I can promise that there will be at least one point (and probably more) where you are so frustrated with things that you are going to want to walk away. Sarah, you might even come in here crying," [and I probably will] "but I will be here to take care of things and make them right." I thought she was crazy, but just two days after we signed the papers, I was already getting really frustrated with things.

It turns out that the power company (or maybe the cable company) had placed a slab on the lot next to ours that was going to interfere with our driveway, and they hadn't bothered to tell the salesperson about it. We drove by our lot after we'd signed the papers (probably at least the 10th time we'd driven by it) and said, "Huh?? What is that? That wasn't there before!" Praise God that we have a great salesperson; she is in the process of getting us switched to a different lot so that we can be completely happy with our new place. Unfortunately, it's looking like this glitch is going to prevent us from going to the design gallery to pick out all the fun stuff for the inside of the house since this Friday will be the only time in October that my husband will be home on a weekday. :( It's now looking like November before we can pick anything out, and even when we do get to go, it'll be after I'm up all night on my night float rotation. Sadness! I'm sure it will all work out, and this is just another example of God teaching me to be patient (seeing as impatience remains as one of my biggest shortcomings).

I am SO excited though. I can't wait to start creating my little home instead of living in this apartment. I have been woken up in the middle of the night for the last three nights by my loud upstairs neighbor who has a bladder problem and stomps on his way to the bathroom at least twice per night, and last Saturday night we were, um, exposed to the sounds of our next door neighbors, um, becoming, uh, "well-acquainted" with each other. Ick!

All joking aside, we've been praying about this almost since we moved to Dallas. It seemed at first as though God had closed the door on this option to build our house; in August we'd been told there were no more lots on which to build the house we had selected. There were few places within a decent driving distance to my hospital where we could build a new home, and all the ones we'd been able to find were out of our price range. We had almost resigned ourselves either to buying an older home or to having to live in our apartment for four to six extra months while we waited on our house to be built at this location. At the end of September, we decided to take a little trip back out to this development and looked at some different floor plans. We ended up finding one we liked even better, the house could be built on any of the remaining lots, and it was a little less expensive than the house we'd originally considered. Praise God!!

In seven to nine months, we will get to move into a place of our own, and my sweet husband says we can FINALLY consider getting a dog!! I am so excited and so thankful for this. It's still hard having my sweetie gone all the time, but at least I feel like there is a goal in sight now. God is so faithful and answers prayers even in dark times!

Meet me where I am

God bless Bebo Norman. That fella's music has stuck with me through the years! I (along with a large percentage of other young Christian females) used to crank up his music and sing my little heart out in college and in med school as I was searching for the one God had created for me, finding comfort in knowing others were sharing similar experiences and emotions. I cried tears of happiness as an excited engaged woman when I would try on my veil and tiara in my apartment and listen to "A Page Is Turned" and other mushy songs.

Now my situation is different. I'm a Song of Songs 3:1 kind of girl lately. I'm lonely. I'm hurting. I'm having a hard time understanding many things lately. I'm having an extremely hard time effectively living in another city from my new husband (we just had our five month-iversary last week). For some reason, I haven't felt that it's okay to show this side of me to many people including my beloved. I've felt like I'm supposed to show only the happy sides of me and that anytime anyone asks how I'm doing, my response should not contain any words other than "happy" and "blessed." I have a husband who loves me (even if he isn't in the same time zone), a good job, decent health (although it's been questionable at times lately!) ... what should I have to complain about? A while back, I received some well-meaning but really bad advice that I should put on a smile and "support" my husband's job which included not telling him how hard of a time I was having with his absence.

I've since realized that it has done us no good at all for me to put on a brave front if I'm really torn up inside. I need to be real. I can be supportive and understanding without lying by omission. Praise God for His mercy and the healing He is bringing to both of our hearts as we work through all of this. By God's grace and some good timing on the part of my attending, I was able to finish my work early and attend church last Sunday for the first time in a month. In Sunday school, our teacher spoke of "leading prognostic indicators" for marriage. He told us that one is going to bed at the same time every night; I started to cry right there in Sunday school because I miss that SO MUCH. We shared that every night for the first eight weeks of our marriage, and now with his work schedule and my call schedule, we might get to do that four times a month if that much. I stopped the tears and held up through AM service, but when we started to sing one of my favorite Chris Tomlin songs, all I could was whisper the words as my voice cracked and the faucets ran. "You see the depths of my heart, and You love me the same ... You are amazing God."

So back to Bebo ... I picked up his new CD yesterday afternoon and have been completely floored by his lyrics. I've only made it through the first six songs so far because I keep hitting "repeat" so many times. Yet again, God is using the Beeb's lyrics to meet me in my place of need.

"I Will Lift My Eyes"

God, my God, I cry out
Your beloved needs You now
God, be near, calm my fear
And take my doubt

Your kindness is what pulls me up
Your love is all that draws me in
I will lift my eyes to the Maker
Of the mountains I can't climb
I will lift my eyes to the Calmer
Of the oceans raging wild
I will lift my eyes to the Healer
Of the hurt I hold inside
I will lift my eyes, lift my eyes to You

God, my God, let Mercy sing
Her melody over me
God, right here all I bring
Is all of me

'Cause You are and You were and You will be forever
The Lover I need to save me
'Cause You fashioned the earth and You hold it together, God
So hold me now



I'm stuck. I can't fast forward. Yet again he has captured my feelings exactly as I'm feeling in this moment of confusion, pain, beautiful desperate faith, and growth. I can be hurting and still be His beloved child. I'm not cheating Him out of glory by admitting to others than I am living through a rough period in my life. May I find my rest and find my peace in God's arms, not only now in this time of turmoil but also in the easy happy days that I know will one day come.

Saline eyes

Last night I took my second-to-last call of the month. It was a slower than usual call, and I actually got a couple of hours of sleep while I was up there. Unfortunately I woke up this morning to find that one of my patients who was less than a month old was not doing so well, and I had to transfer her up to the PICU to get her a little more respiratory support. I know that it's not my fault and that even if I'd stayed at her bedside all night long, I still would have had to send her up, but for some reason, I felt like a failure as a doctor today. I felt like I'd let that little girl's mommy and daddy down because she got sicker. I know that it was out of my hands, but that doesn't make it easier.

After rounds, I finished up the little work that I had left to do and walked out to the parking garage. I normally take the covered skybridge, but today I wanted to breathe fresh air, so I walked outside. I'd been cooped up inside for 29 hours, and I needed to feel the sun's warmth on my skin. As I walked out of the hospital, I started to cry ... not the big heaping sobs but the little tears that escape out of the corners of your eyes. The valet smiled at me as I passed, but I couldn't manage more than a nod in return.

The big sobs came when I climbed into my car. I cried for my sweet little patient (who will in all reality probably be okay in a few days). I cried for her family who just wants their little girl to be healthy. I cried for feeling like I wasn't the best doctor that I could have been. I cried for only being an intern and not knowing nearly enough. I cried for being an emotional, exhausted female. I cried for missing my husband and knowing I'd be going home to an empty apartment. I cried for missing my family and friends so much that it hurts.

When the tears stopped, I didn't have any huge revelations that made everything come into focus. I don't have the magic balm to ease any of these wounds. My patient is still in the PICU, I'm still just an intern, and I'm still alone and exhausted. I keep hearing that this is a rite of passage, but I don't understand how all of this is supposed to make me a better doctor or a better person. I know that thousands upon thousands of people have walked these steps before and have survived, so I keep telling myself that if my dad could do residency with 3 kids under 5, I can do it without even a pet. I'm sure my dad is right that I'll be able to view today better after I'm rested up.

I suppose I just need some peace just to get me to sleep.

It's a man, man.

Today I got out of work at 4:15 PM, a feat yet to be accomplished during this block unless I have been post call or on a weekend schedule. That was only 9 hours and 15 minutes at the hospital today -- whoo hoo!! I used the extra time to make a Target run for some essentials (laundry detergent and cereal) and non-essentials (fun socks and some kitchen utensils). On the way home, I was listening to my self-titled Caedmon's Call album and singing along. As track #5, "Bus Driver," came on, I thought to myself, "Wow, I never noticed those tires screeching in the intro before. That's really odd. Could I really have missed that for the last ten years?" Then I looked up and saw a truck far ahead of me that realized a cop was watching the light he was just about to run; the dude had slammed on his brakes HARD. I knew I couldn't have missed something on one of my favorite albums for years!

I continued my short drive home and realized that I was able to sing along perfectly with Derek while I'd been struggling earlier to hit the notes I normally sing. Now that I finally have a voice again, I sound like a man! It's kind of like Phoebe; I have a sexy voice now. ;) Too bad my little patients aren't impressed!

Hey, hey

About 4:15 AM early Sunday morning after 21 hours of being on my feet, I felt the need to start singing, "I Will Survive." My senior resident (who has been sick for the same period of time I have) and I were dealing with a big problem down in the ER, and she was starting to get overwhelmed. Seeing as I've been there quite a bit myself lately, I wanted to do something to cheer her up. Luckily for her, I only sang a line or two; I didn't want to damage what little was left of her hearing.

While my serenade was in jest, I realized that night (or morning?) that I really will survive this. I think every function of my head except for my vision has been affected within the last two weeks with all these bugs I keep catching. My attending diagnosed me with an ear infection last week (I felt like a little two year old!), so I've been acting like my grandmother and making everybody talk into my good ear, and now I have a raging case of laryngitis. I sound HILARIOUS. I got zero sleep on call Saturday night, meaning I was up on my feet working for 28 hours straight. I crashed when I got home Sunday morning and probably only spent a few of my awake hours remotely coherent before my husband left for good old California again last night. I honestly think I've just been too tired to be sad! This week has been really good for me. No, I really am being serious.

I keep getting pushed further and further with every day, but I feel that I'm adapting to the pushing and becoming a better person for it. I've gotten some positive feedback during moments when I needed it most, showing once again how impeccable God's timing is. While being separated from my husband brings an indescribable ache that nothing can remove, it has forced me to be honest and vulnerable with God in a way that I haven't been in a long time. During late college and medical school, I allowed Him to change me so that I no longer consider myself a failure when I am not perfect at something, but the environment where I now find myself is bringing out some of my old tendencies of striving to be the best. I need His gentle reminders that He does not seek perfection according to man's standards and that my greatest efforts should be to bring glory to Him.

My husband and I have been reading through books of the New Testament together as one way to stay connected during our time apart. We recently worked our way through Philippians, and these verses (2:14-15) have stuck with me:

Do everything without complaining or arguing,

so that you may become blameless and pure,

children of God without fault in a crooked and depraved generation,

in which you shine like stars in the universe

I could very easily find reasons to complain about many aspects of my job, but I try to save those for my family or for my blog; when I'm at work, I try to focus on the positive and have a good attitude towards my job. I don't want to be one of the residents that nobody wants to work with because of her bad attitude (in the 3 months we have been interns, we are already discovering some of those!). I want to be one of the ones who has something different about her, something that points to a force greater than me who sustains me when all good reasons for being positive are gone (reference I John 4:4 for another great verse!).

I have SO many questions right now about what the future holds. I have no idea when my husband and I will be together again for more than four days at a time. I have no idea where we will move when our lease runs out next June; we truly believed we had found the answer for where to build our house, but God has since closed the door on that option or at least on our time frame for it. I am unsure about my plans for fellowship and am very nervous when I contemplate the odds for me getting into the one I'm considering. I'm praying my car holds out and doesn't break down on me for at least another year. I don't know where He will take us in so many areas, but these last few weeks have reassured me that He is holding my hand and guiding me where He wants me.

On another very happy note, it's 3 PM, and I'm still in my pajamas. I don't really have any intention of getting out of them today although I do plan to change into a fresh set after a long bath tonight. I LOVE my days off. This is my 2nd day off in the last 15 days, and I am relishing every minute of it. I slept for 10 hours straight last night and have every intention of going to bed early tonight. Right now a thunderstorm is JUST starting outside, so I think I'll leave the harsh glare of the computer and head for my favorite spot on the couch with my warm quilt and a good book. If I happen to fall asleep in the process, that's even better. :)

Different verse

Seriously, what's up with this? It's a good thing that my vows included "in sickness and in health" because it's been a lot of the former lately. I'm sitting at home right now while the hubby is at church since I'm now the proud owner of a ferocious cold. I started feeling under the weather on Thursday, and by the time I got home postcall Saturday morning, I was siiiiiiick. We tried to go to the Rangers game last night, but we had to leave after the 5th inning since I'd run out of Kleenex and sounded like Val Kilmer in Tombstone. My poor husband ... it seems like the only time he sees me, I'm either sick or asleep!

On a side note, I hope I don't ever become a crazy parent. I've seen enough in the last two months to become really afraid of the possibilities!

The punchline

I truly believe that God has a sense of humor. He knew I needed a break from work, I'm on the GI (gastrointestinal) service this month ... put two and two together, and six hours after my last post, I woke up unable to keep down anything I'd eaten for the last month. At 5:30 AM, I made the stupid decision to tough it out and go to work, and by 11 AM, I was being sent home since I couldn't even keep down Gatorade. I knew for certain that something was really wrong when I got home and couldn't even stand the thought of watching the Food Network. It's been a Law & Order/Scrubs few days for me; I want NOTHING to do with food!! I took today off from work as well; when I didn't have enough energy last night to stand up for a shower, I knew I wouldn't be any good to be around sick kids today. This afternoon I've managed to eat 2 pieces of toast, and I'm contemplating my dinner choices right now. I have NOTHING bland on hand except bread for more toast, and that just doesn't sound good. Looks like I'll be making a run to the local grocery store for some soup and sugar-free popsicles.

On the bright side, I got more sleep last night than I've had in weeks, and I was relatively unstressed today. I didn't need this virus, but I did reap the benefits of a day and a half off work. I never thought I'd be thanking God for being sick! :)

Beyond my limits

This is hard, so very hard. I'm being pushed beyond the limits I can handle, another obvious reminder that every day I am in desperate need of my Savior.

Being an intern is rough. I know it's nothing compared to "the good old days," but for those of us living in 2006 who weren't there for the good old days, it's not easy. Several things that have been far out of my control have gone on at the hospital and have made my month more difficult than I anticipated. I'm easily working 60-70 hours each week, and I'm just tired. I'm getting 2 days off every other week for a total of 4 days this month; I'm now on my 9th day straight and can't wait for this Friday evening to get here! I am gladly counting down the days until I am off this service (just 3 more!!). I got behind in my chart dictations and stayed til 10:30 PM last Wednesday to get caught up (never again) and still had to be back at 6:30 the next morning. This week has pushed me to the edge, and I have almost cried twice when I'm hidden in a bathroom or walking down a lonely hall. It's amazing how many lessons I am learning on how to treat my own physicians and my children's pediatrician one day from both the good and bad treatment I have received from families. It's also amazing the attachments I'm forming to some of my patients; I am afraid I'll cry again when I have to say goodbye to one in particular that I have watched transform from a cranky little one who always screamed "NO!!" when you entered the room to one who asks me for a hug daily and kissed me on the cheek this morning. I find myself sitting at home worrying about my kiddos and looking them up online to see how they're doing and if anything has changed on them; I even dreamed about them on my weekend off earlier this month. I have to get better at separating my work life from my personal life; however, it's simply not an easy task.

My husband is working in California right now. He flies out Sunday night or Monday morning and gets back Friday night after dinner; if I can, I try to wait to eat with him around 9 or 9:30 PM so we can share a meal especially if I'm on call that weekend and won't see him for the rest of the weekend. I get up when it's 3:30 AM his time, and I'm in bed by 8:15 PM his time, so we don't have much of a chance to talk. Today we were both so busy that I didn't even get to talk to him until 8:30 my time after having dinner with his mom (she was sweet enough to drive up to Dallas and take me out for a real meal!). It's difficult being separated from the one you love. I carry 2 pictures of us on the back of one of my badges, so when I miss him during the day (which naturally occurs often), I can look at pictures from our wedding and from our honeymoon and remind myself that this separation is temporary and that we will be together again soon.

My car has been giving me a little trouble lately; the key has been sticking in the ignition when I have gone to start the engine. It has always fixed itself with a little jiggle and a few prayers, but last Thursday while I was parked illegally in a reserved spot (just to check our mailbox - I promise!), the car gave out on me. I tried for over 45 minutes to get it to start, and after sweat, tears, several calls to my husband in California, and a few unladylike words, I called a tow truck. While I was waiting, I continued to try the key, and by a miracle, it started. I drove it to the nearest dealership. I was quoted an estimate of $100 for the tow (which I didn't end up needing), $750 for the repair, and $100-150 for a rental car for 2 days. Ha ha ... such good times.

On the bright side, getting up at 5:30 every day is finally getting easier for this non-morning person. I have finally had my root canal, so I'm almost pain free -- a very welcome change. The car repair ended up only being $450, and I got a friend to pick me up from the dealership, saving me the car rental fee. My husband gets to come home Thursday evening, and he gets to come with me to a conference I'm going to in Austin this weekend on my potential career move after residency (stay tuned to the blog for more details over the next few years). Did I mention that my only expense for this weekend will be gas money? The conference is covering the registration fee, the hotel, and both of our meals for 1 day. Exciting! My husband has been so supportive of me and does everything within his power to be there for me. I can't imagine anyone else putting up with all that he has to, and I'm so thankful that God has placed us together. We joined a church last month that has provided us with so much of what we need, and we can't wait to dive in and get involved. It's been harder for me because I work most Sundays, but everyone has been very understanding, and I am welcomed with open arms when I have the chance to be there.

God's timing is perfect. This month has been hard, and there have been many times I've dropped to my knees with tears in my eyes asking "Why?" or "When will this end?" Every time that I am pushed beyond my limits, He is there for me. He is my strength. He gives me grace to deal with parents who yell at me for things out of my control. He give me patience when disorganization rules on the floor. He gives me laughter when I want to cry. He provides gifts when I have done nothing to deserve them. He amazes me.

My inviting bed is calling my name, and all too soon, the alarm clock will be buzzing me awake. Here is to a night full of sweet dreams (not of work!) and a day full of surprises and smiles. Today's kiss from my patient has made my entire rough month worth it. May I stay focused on the good and let the bad fall to the side.

My prayer

This week has been so hard. I get up every morning at 5:30 to be at work by 6:30; my beloved husband is 2 hours behind me and still sleeping for at least an hour after I get to work. I work without a chance to call him until 4ish to 7ish, but even when I get off work, he usually doesn't get off until 8 or 8:30 PM my time. Since I've been up before the sun and will do it again until my first day off next Saturday, I typically fall asleep pretty early while he's just barely finishing dinner. We have spent less time talking this week than we have since we first started dating. It's been difficult. Most of the week, I've just numbed myself to how mentally tired I am and how much I miss talking with people about things other than medicine. Today at work I almost cracked. I heard my husband's voice on the other end of the phone and almost started to cry at the nurses' station with 10 people standing around me. I held it together until I could get home, and God has provided me with much comfort tonight.

I don't understand why things are the way they are, why our schedules have to be so opposite, why God has placed us here. I don't have to understand, and that's comforting. I read the following prayer, and it really spoke to me where I am tonight.

From Francis of Assisi:

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace;

where there is hatred, let me sow love;

when there is injury, pardon;

where there is doubt, faith;

where there is despair, hope;

where there is darkness, light;

and where there is sadness, joy.

Grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;

to be understood, as to understand;

to be loved as to love;

for it is in giving that we receive,

it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,

and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

My goal for this month is not going to be impressing my attending or getting in good with the fellow. My goal is to shine Christ through my words and deeds -- even if that means staying late to cover for someone else, not complaining when I get extra patients, and having a positive outlook when the group around me just wants to complain. I pray that I will find the good in my patients and in their families no matter how much they frustrate me. I have been able to share with patients before that I am a believer and have prayed for them; I am praying that He will open more doors for me to do that as I continue to practice medicine.

I better run ... I think my better half is finally off the airplane. I'll be gone from tomorrow at 6:15 AM until Sunday around 1:15 PM, so I better soak up what time I can tonight.

(Halfway to the) Weekend Update

The good news: My 8.5 hour day turned into a 12 hour day yesterday, but I still left the hospital happy. I love my team, and even though I have some really tough patients, I have some really great ones too. I think this will be a good month.

The bad news: I made my 4th trip to a dentist in 4.5 weeks. She thinks I'm going to need a root canal on at least one tooth, but she doesn't do them. The specialist's latest appointment is a 2:15 PM. I work until at least 3 PM every day. I have an appointment for next Tuesday for an "evaluation with possible procedure;" I never thought I'd be this desperate to get out of work. ;)

The sad news: My brother is moving to New York this week for law school. Even though we rarely talk and only see each other about 3-4 times per year, it still makes me sad to know that he's going to be so far away. My parents and sister are driving up to New York with him to help him move his stuff in a few days. I really wish I could be with them.

The random news: I need to get caught up on my DVR. I DVR-ed about 5 hours of my favorite Food Network show "Good Eats" (yay, Alton!) on Saturday while I was in the ER, and now it's just sitting there taking up space.

The dumb blonde news: By law, everything I sign at the hospital must have the letters "M.D." after my name. I've gotten so much into the habit of writing them behind my name that at the dentist today, I started to sign my receipt with those initials. I'd gotten the "M" out before I realized I didn't need to sign that like it was an order in a chart. Oops.

Ambivalence

There are days when I hate my job. There are days when I love my job. Honestly, I usually hate it and love it both within the same day. Sometimes I feel so confident in myself; I led a 3rd year medical student around today and could not believe how much more I knew than he did. Wow, I know that sounds dumb. I'm a doctor; I'm supposed to know more than he does, but there are so many times when I am reminded how much about children I still do not know. The good news is that I'm learning more and more with every shift. The bad news is that I switch services in 1 week, so I'll be thrown into a completely different territory and will start from scratch again. It's all good; I'm looking forward to learning a different specialty and facing the new challenges. Okay okay, so that's not entirely true ... I'm not a big fan of change and am just starting to get comfortable with the ER, but this change will be beneficial for me, so I'm keeping a positive outlook.

I love what I do so much; I can't find words to express how amazing it is to hold a baby in your arms and know that his parents trust you to make him better. To have a mom smile and say, "Thank you, doctor; this makes me feel so much better, and I'm going to sleep well tonight" after you explain what's going on with her kiddo makes all the crap that we deal with worth it. The downside comes when you can't give parents the good answers, when you have to give them bad news. I haven't had to deliver any earth-shattering news myself yet, but I've been there when it's happened, and it's so hard to fail the one time that it matters most. All of these precious children are ultimately in God's hands, and we are just tools that He uses, but it still stinks when His plan doesn't work out the way we wish it would.

I'm going to be honest; most days I ask myself, "What have I gotten myself into?" There are even days when I wonder if it's all worth it -- all the sleep lost, all the HUGE debt accrued, all the time away from my husband, all the friends that I have left in Houston, all the times I've gotten sick from a bug my patient has passed on. Every time that I begin to question, God always whispers to me that it is worth it because it's something He asked me to do. I never planned on being a doctor; in fact, I fought it until 3 months before the application process opened (taking the MCAT and knowing I had a single shot taught me real reliance on Him!). I wanted to go to med school in Dallas, but He put me in Houston where I made some of my best friends and met the love of my life. Like the old Caedmon's Call song states, "Looking back, You know You had to bring me through all that I was so afraid of; though I questioned the sky, now I see why I had to walk the rocks to see the mountain view. Looking back, I see a lead of love."

I will never have all the answers this side of Heaven. I'll never understand why so many things happen the way they do. This journey that I'm walking has left me so changed; I am not the woman I was 5 or even 2 years ago. I pray that I'm a better woman for it and that I will be above and beyond what I've ever expected through His grace alone.

A new world record

There are few things funnier (or occasionally more annoying) than watching my husband try to entertain himself in the car. I'm enjoying a week of vacation right now, so we took a trip for a few days out to the hill country. While there, we relaxed, ate lots of delicious food, and visited several local wineries. We had an absolute blast, but we did spend quite a bit of time in the car. I have a serious problem with any car ride lasting longer than 20 minutes as the rhythm of the road lulls me into peaceful slumber, so my poor lonely husband created ways to keep himself entertained while Sleeping Beauty caught up on her naps. Most of the time he simply browsed radio stations or popped in fabulous CDs (ahhh, Jack Johnson), but his new favorite way to prevent boredom required an empty road and several hills. Yes, he has created a game he calls "Car Coast."

To the best of my understanding, Car Coast involves driving quickly up a hill, building sufficient momentum, and shifting into neutral as the car crosses the apex of the hill. The record for not having to shift back into Drive without dropping below 45 mph was two minutes and thirty seconds and occurred somewhere near Luckenbach. It's sad that I remember this. We came close to breaking that record several times but were foiled -- darn those other drivers making us share the road!

This game made me laugh for the first few times, but by the 50th time, I was really getting tired of hearing it. I swear that my irritation only provided more entertainment for him! I'm thankful that Dallas is relatively flat; it should keep Car Coast at bay for a while.

Such a front

The last 10 days have stretched me and tested me like I haven't been tested in a long time. It's been a very rough period starting with the pain in my teeth and ending with a heartfelt "thank you" to my precious Father in Heaven.

10 days ago, I woke up in pain from my teeth as explained in my previous post and then worked a 12 hour shift after only sleeping 2 hours in the previous 24. 9 days ago, I was told I needed 4 root canals and would be charged $8000 to get them done. That weekend was filled with tears and questions as I pondered different options and was reminded by a wise advisor that God would provide for all my needs even if I did not immediately see where the financial part would come from. I stuck the next few days out, and the pain, while still present, began to decrease and become more of a constant nagging rather than continual torture.

Even with all of this, I still wasn't getting the message. With the recent flurry of events in my life from getting married to moving to a new city to having everyone at work call me "Doctor" and think I know WAY more than I really do, I'd begun to get pretty self-reliant. I hadn't even realized I was thinking this way; I had slowly begun to think of myself higher than I should and not to lean on God for everything the way He wants me to.

Wednesday night woke me up. I had an event happen at the hospital that terrified me to my very core. Within a few seconds, something happened that could have possibly changed my life. While it would probably turn out to be nothing, its repercussions were potentially deep and far-reaching, so much that I began to question things such as my own mortality and whether I'd be able to bear children one day. This happened two hours into my twelve hour shift, so I had ten more hours to sit up at the hospital and work. Fortunately (or not), it was the busiest night shift I'd seen yet, so I really had no down time to stop and stew. I did break into tears a few times at work, but I managed to hold it together for the most part. As soon as I got home, I collapsed into my husband's arms and sobbed. He held me and prayed over me, and in the middle of his calling out to our Father, I began to feel more at peace. After he left for work, I called my (earthly) father, and he reminded me that in the end, only God could comfort me and help me through this time; he also reminded me that I could use this to be a witness and that Romans 8:28 would always hold true.

After getting off the phone with my dad, I headed to my new dentist. They agreed to see me a day early since I was still in constant pain, so I was extremely thankful for that. However, I didn't get seen for over an hour after my appointment time because I was on the phone trying to work out details with my new insurance company that they had already promised were worked out; the office finally agreed to see me even though the details STILL aren't worked out. When the dentist finally saw me, I told her that I'd been told I needed 4 root canals; she said she didn't think that was necessary and wanted to try simply filing down the fillings because they'd been filled too high. Basically, the high fillings were smacking into each other every time I close my jaw, and this was causing the pain and inflammation that were keeping me up. I let her give it a shot, and within an hour and a half, I was eating again with no pain. Even now, 3 days later, I can still feel that the right side of my mouth is a little sensitive, but that is it -- no more pain waking me up, no more inability to chew, and (best of all) NO ROOT CANALS!! I was so so so so thankful to God that He spared me 4 root canals for the time being and the $8000!!

I went home from the dentist on Thursday and tried to rest. I got 2 hours of sleep again before having to go back to work my last night shift this month. Thursday night was hard, but I made it through without any major difficulties. I came home and CRASHED. I didn't eat breakfast but instead headed straight for the shower. After I got out, I fell asleep on the couch from 8 AM to 4 PM; I didn't even wake up when the phone rang! I woke up feeling better than I had in days, and shortly after waking up, I got the news that all the tests they'd run as a result of Wednesday night's incident had come back negative. I was so happy that I almost cried!

The point of all of this? In church this morning, we sang the hymn, "It Is Well With My Soul." As I sang, I recognized that in the middle of everything that happened this week, it was not well with my soul. I was not at peace. I was not accepting that my life is not my own, that I've been bought with a price. I've been living like I'm the one in charge, but in reality I've never been holding the reins. God is the one who is in control, and I'm ready to live that out actively. I'm so thankful that He has gotten my attention before it was too late.

I don't remember too much of this weekend ...

But I have a good reason. Wednesday night was AWESOME. I could not believe how quickly things came back to me, and my attendings were really great when I would say, "I don't know" in answer to a question. As 7 AM drew near, we basically cleared the ER and had no patients waiting to be seen, so they let me go home 15 minutes early. As I walked across the skybridge to the parking garage, I watched the sun come up and realized that would be one of the great walks of my life. Walking down the aisle during my wedding and walking across the stage at graduation were both amazing, but during this walk, no one was paying attention to me or watching to see my reaction; it was a precious moment where I got to whisper thanks to God for helping me survive my first night as a doctor and love it!

I went home, ate some breakfast, and took a much anticipated shower. I climbed into my oh-so-comfortable bed and closed my eyes, expecting a wonderful long nap. I had to be back up at the hospital at 7 PM for another 12 hour shift, so I figured I'd have plenty of time to catch up on some sleep. Ha ha. How wrong I was! I'd barely dozed off when I began to feel that something wasn't right. Before long, the right side of my face was hurting so badly that I was in tears and writhing in agony.

To give a bit of history, I had some fillings done on "pre-cavities" in May. 1 week after the fillings (10 in all), my teeth began to hurt. I was convinced the pain would improve, and since it never stayed more than an hour or two, I wasn't too concerned. Thursday morning was entirely different. Both the top and bottom right side of my mouth were hurting so much that I couldn't sleep, and I didn't know what to do. I took a pretty strong painkiller, but it didn't touch it. I couldn't take anything too strong because I had to be back at the hospital at 7 PM, so I did my best to relax and to try to ignore the pain. I spent lots of time on the phone with my husband and with both of my parents trying to figure out what to do, and in the end, I got an appointment for 7:45 the next morning (45 minutes after I got off work) with a new dentist.

I ended up getting only 2 hours of sleep in 10-15 minute stretches on Thursday after being up all night Wednesday, and then I stayed up all night at work on Thursday. Diet Pepsi was definitely my friend that night. Thursday night I was pretty uncomfortable and even sent several text messages begging for prayer for relief so that I could focus on my job, and thankfully the pain never got quite as bad as it had during the day. I left the ER on Friday morning at 7 AM and drove straight to the dentist. It turns out that despite my obsessive brushing of my teeth since I was a kid and possibly because of the work that was done in May, I will still need FOUR root canals. I was in shock. The new dentist offered to do them that day, but the fillings I'd had done in May that started all the pain had actually used up all my insurance benefits that I had while still a student. The bill for the root canals? Well, the estimate was $7500. My new insurance for my job was scheduled to begin on Saturday, so for a fraction of that price, I could find a different dentist and get the root canals done. This dentist gave me some antibiotics and some painkillers, and I've decided to tough it out. I have an appointment next Friday with a dentist in my plan, and SO FAR my teeth have been doing okay.

My reason for not remembering most of the weekend is that I spent it catching up on my sleep. 2 hours of sleep is just not enough over a 48 hour period! I was so tired that I actually fell asleep on the phone as I was explaining the options to my husband on Friday morning, and once I actually got some relief from the pain, I was able to sleep for more than 10 minutes in one stretch.

I work 3 more night shifts this week and will actually leave from my last night shift on Thursday to go straight to the dentist Friday morning. Here's to hoping that everything works out and that I'm a tough girl until then! :) I'm seriously questioning how I'm going to be able to function on Friday morning; I already had a mild phobia of the dentist before May, and knowing that I will likely be having a root canal (or four) on Friday is a very scary prospect to me. Only my fear of continued pain will actually drive me into that chair!

Are you ready for some action?

Tonight's my first night as a doctor; I'm so nervous and yet a little excited at the same time! I've been reading all sorts of articles for the last two days trying to refresh my memory on how to care for kids (it's been a year since I've seen one as a patient), but I'm sure that I will still have a blank look of fear on my face about 6:55 PM when I'm getting the checkout list from the intern who's going home. I don't know much about how the computer systems work, I have no idea where to put the chart after I write orders, I don't know how to admit the kids to the hospital (I've always received them after they've already been admitted), and I'm doing pretty well just to know where to park tonight. I don't even know how to get into the ER! The chief badged us in before, but will my badge work? We'll find out tonight! :) I feel like I need a scarlet "I" on my white coat to let everyone know that I'm one of the dreaded fresh interns who will need to be told 100 times, "We do it a different way at this hospital." At least everyone I met in the ER last week was extremely friendly and appeared to be very patient; I'm hoping that carries over to the night shift people as well.

In spite of the nerves, I really am excited. There's no better way to learn than to get in there and get my hands dirty (followed by a good washing, of course). I can read about a case 10 times and not remember 1/2 of what I read, but seeing a patient imbeds that knowledge in me better than simple reading could ever do.

Bring it on.

I'm already tired

This frightens me. I haven't taken my first call or really done anything other than be at the hospital for orientation from 7 AM until 4 PM with almost-nightly dinners with the crew, but I'm tired. Most of the interns officially start on Saturday, but because I'm working in the ER where we do 12 hour shifts, I don't start until next Wednesday at 7 PM. It is a total God-send; I'm going to use Monday and Tuesday to do some reading and review things that I haven't considered since my peds rotation almost two years ago. It's terrifying how much I feel that I've forgotten; I'm praying it all comes back when it really counts.

It's my blog, and I'll ramble if I want to.

I'm still working on syncing my new PDA. I'm used to my old Palm, but the program has provided us with Pocket PCs. They're great and will be essential to all the life saving that I'll be doing (can't give the wrong drug dosage to a kiddo!), but I'm having a little bit of a rough time getting it set up. At least my program has loaded most of the applications for me; I don't think I could stand doing it all alone.

I miss my husband. He's been staffed on a project out in California this week and will actually be out there every week until at least October. I'm thankful that we both have jobs that we love, but it's hard being apart. I was seriously blessed to be placed in the ER for this month; I only work 1 full weekend (one 7a-7p shift on Saturday and one on Sunday) and 1 extra Saturday, so I will get to see him quite a bit when he is home. He was also able to take off for a week when I was given one of my two vacation weeks (the next isn't til April), so I'm excited about that.

I'm scared. I'm terrified everyone's going to figure out how little I really know. I'm nearly immobilized at the thought of hurting a child by not knowing the right treatment. Everyone keeps telling us that we know much more than we realize; I hope that's true. I want to be good at this. I want to help my patients. I want to make a difference.

I love my new phone. My old phone refused to work last weekend, and with the hubby out of town most of the week, we decided it was a safety issue for me not to have a reliable cell phone. I live 15 minutes from the hospital, and for my first five shifts, I'll be working 7 PM til 7 AM. After that, I'll work two shifts from noon til midnight. (Never fear -- these shifts are not back-to-back; I have plenty of time for sleep between them.) My beloved '96 4Runner has been acting a little weird lately, and I would hate for it not to start or to die on my ride home and have me stranded somewhere. I have a very tall male relative who lives 10 minutes away from me, so if anything ever happens when my husband is gone, I have my back-up ready. :) My new phone is amazing. Unlike the old one, I actually get decent reception almost everywhere, it doesn't take 5 minutes to send a single text message anymore, and the battery lasts more than 6 hours. It's fabulous!

Tomorrow I get to wear my long white coat for the first time ever. At many medical schools (including mine), students wear short white coats, and we all long for the day when our coat grows and we join the ranks of the graduated. My coat grew about a foot and even got my name embroidered in it. I just hope I remember to answer when they call me "Doctor." I still haven't gotten used to that. For my 3 readers, I won't be wearing the bonnet and mask very often; I was on a surgical rotation when I took this picture. It's just the only picture I have of me in scrubs.

I think I may go relax and soak in a hot bath for a while. It truly is one of the best ways to end the day.

It's not a habit. It's cool. I feel alive.

Unpacking has helped me to realize that I have several prominent addictions in my life and several that I have overcome (or maybe just replaced with new ones). With all the expenses of setting up our home, moving, and preparing to start my new job, I haven't been able to feed many of these addictions lately. Fortunately for me, I have a wonderful family on both sides who have made sure that my withdrawals aren't too bad.

For my birthday, my wonderful husband went wild and crazy at Lush. Our new apartment has two wonderfully deep tubs without those nasty drains in the side. I was a microbiology major in college; seriously, you don't want to know what grows in those pipes, or you would never take a bath in them again. Now that our new tubs don't have the portals to filth, I really enjoy taking baths, and I was blessed enough to get quite a few wonderful bath bombs, melts, and soaps. I was so stressed out last week in our rush to prepare our place for a wonderful weekend guest (who happens to read this blog -- hi guest!) that I swear I was about to spontaneously combust (don't rag on me for the split infinitive -- "combust spontaneously" just didn't sound the same). I popped a Happy Pill into a hot bath and relaxed so much that I dozed off for a few minutes. I just found out today that my husband's job will be taking him to California Monday through Friday until at least October, and my schedule is going to be very busy during the week with no guarantee of weekends off. My only vacation until next April comes up in July, so I already know that I'm going to be using my Lush products to help me wind down from the craziness of life! Maybe I should start a fund to support this habit; it won't be cheap.

Something I've known for a while but have just recently admitted is that I have a purse addiction as well. Most girls have hundreds of pairs of shoes; while I do have quite a few, it's probably significantly less than the amount possessed by other women. I prefer to have my classic staples with a few fun options thrown in. My accent of choice is my purse and lately one style in particular. I love the Liz Claiborne croc purses; I now own two small ones, one medium one, and (this is so embarrassing) five large ones. The large ones are PERFECT for me to carry to the hospital (just big enough to hold all my papers without wrinkling them), and since three of them were gifts and I got the other two on huge sales, I don't have to feel as guilty about it. My mom and sister knew that I liked them so much that they each got me one of these types of purses for my birthday. Now that is love.

My final addiction is the one that I really can't afford to feed right now -- both for lack of money and lack of space. When I was a little girl, I remember looking through the home section in department stores and thinking that I would never be interested by this kind of thing. Ha ha. Now I can't walk through a department store without stopping to look at the home section! I have now been introduced to the wonders of Fiestaware. Through the generosity of my husband's home town, we got all the placesettings for which we registered and lots of Fiestaware we never picked out. There were a few pieces off our Foley's registry that we didn't get, but what we have is far more than enough. My problem is that now that I've used it daily, I love it so much and am starting to think about the other colors that I don't have. Sure I have some outrageous number of dinner plates in cinnabar, sunflower, cobalt, and white (I think the final count is in around 18), but oooooh, the peacock is so pretty! Maybe when we have a house and I have a hutch, I can get more. In the meantime, my mantra when I walk through Foley's is "Just say no!"

Pizza Hut, the cable guy, and the Taj Ma-Triple B

We're heeee-re! We arrived in Dallas 1 week ago, and we're finally getting settled in. This morning was the first day that I've gotten up and felt at home since we moved into the apartment. I'm sure it had something to do with our mad dash to put things into place before my sister-in-law and her husband came over for dinner last night; there's not a box to be seen in our living room, kitchen, or bedroom! Of course, this simply means that all the unpacked boxes are hiding in our study right now. We still have a good amount of work to do this weekend! Even with more unpacking in sight, I'm still glad to be here.

We've had some really interesting things happen since we arrived. The first night that we were here, we left the boxes in the apartment to hunt for a washer and dryer and also for bedroom furniture, so we had dinner out. The next night, we were in hardcore unpacking mode and didn't want to leave, so we decided to order pizza. I'd actually looked up 2 nearby Pizza Huts before leaving Houston and decided to call the closer one (less than 2.5 miles away). Apparently this Pizza Hut has entered the 21st century; when I called a local Dallas number, I was redirected to a national Pizza Hut hotline. The nice lady on the other end of the phone took all my information and proceeded to tell me the nearest Pizza Hut was about 20 miles away. Lady, this is America, and I'm living in a major city; I know there are more Pizza Huts than that. I gave her the street of the closest store, and she tried to enter my order with them. For some reason, she couldn't do it, so I got passed to Customer Service. Yes, the Pizza Hut hotline has a Customer Service department! At this point, I'd been on the phone for nine minutes trying to order a large pepperoni pizza -- and nothing else. Seriously? The rep with whom I spoke next was nice but tried to tell me that I'd ordered from them before because my phone number was in the system. When I told him I'd been in Dallas for 24 hours, he shut up and changed the info so that I could get my pizza. All in all, it took over 12 minutes to order a single pizza. Insanity.

The same day (last Friday), we had the cable guy coming out to install cable and bring us the cable modem (oh happy day!). He was scheduled to come between 12 and 5 PM, so we made sure we were home the entire time. As it got closer to 3 and we hadn't heard anything from the company, we called to verify the appointment. They assured us that he was on his way and would be there this afternoon. At 5:15, we called again, and they informed us that he wasn't coming because he had not been able to get ahold of us all afternoon. When we asked why he couldn't reach us, it turned out that he'd been using my husband's old work number (which has been disconnected) as a contact number. They didn't give him our new home number which came from the same company or either of our cell phone numbers. They told us that they'd give us a call back to reschedule his appointment time. At this point we decided to give up and order the pizza (which brought about the above story), and after dinner we left to run more errands around 7 PM. We were getting into the car when I realized I'd forgotten something in the apartment. As I was walking up to the door, I saw this guy knock on the door. The cable man had finally arrived! Forgetting that last item turned out to be a God-send; if I hadn't gone back for it, we would have missed him entirely.

The next day was spent taking furniture to my in-laws' place for which we simply don't have room right now and doing more shopping. We found bedroom furniture Friday morning, and now we needed new pillows and a few finishing touches for our bedroom and bathroom. Yes, Saturday was the day that I was introduced to the mother of all Bed, Bath, and Beyond stores (affectionately referred to by my husband and his family as the Taj Ma-Triple B). This place has TWO stories! They had everything we came to buy -- and more. They even had my Betty Crocker Big Red Cookbook that I have seen only online til this point. The workers at this store were incredibly friendly and very willing to help two dressed down twenty-somethings who were looking for pillow covers and other such boring items. Seriously, it was so much fun. I don't know how I'll ever shop at another BBB again. Best of all, we still had gift cards, so we got everything we needed without breaking the bank!

Life is good. I'm going to take a break from sitting in front of the computer in my PJs to sitting in front of the TV with my PJs. I have just about a week til I start my job, and I'm milking the last of my vacation for all it is worth. I may even go eat something terribly bad yet delicious for a late breakfast or early lunch. After all, if you can't splurge on your birthday, when can you? :)

Worth a thousand words

Our photographer gave us 1500 pictures on a DVD; we've cut it down to less than 400 so that it's not completely impossible to look at them. If you want to see them, here's the link to the site where Scott posted them.

For the record, I really like the pictures, but I'm more enthralled by Stan's video. He did an amazing job.

Saying goodbye

When I was little, I loved the movie Muppets Take Manhattan. For those of you who have not been blessed by seeing this hilarious movie, I'll fill you in. Kermit and the rest of the Muppet gang write a play while at college (yes, Animal was in college -- I didn't question it too hard either). They take the play to New York City in the hopes of making it big on Broadway. Their dreams fail, and the gang has to split up and travel across America to find jobs. In the end, everything works out as it should, but should you really expect anything else from a Muppet film? One of the best parts of the movie occurs as the Muppets are splitting up and sing the song "Saying Goodbye." I still know all the words to this song and could sing along with it now if I had the movie playing.

Piggy: Saying goodbye, going away
Seems like goodbye's such a hard thing to say
Kermit: Touching our hands, wondering why
Both: It's time for saying goodbye.

Scooter: Saying goodbye, why is it sad?
Makes us remember the good times we've had
Much more to say, foolish to try
It's time for saying goodbye.

Gonzo: Don't want to leave, but we both know
Sometimes its better to go

Rowlf: Somehow I know, we'll meet again
Not sure quite where and I don't know just when
Floyd: You're in my heart, so until then
Electric Mayhem: It's time for saying goodbye.

Fozzie: Somehow I know, we'll meet again
Not sure quite where and I don't know just when
You're in my heart so until then ...
Wanna smile
Wanna cry
Saying goodbye

Tonight I feel like the Muppets did. I am so bad at saying goodbye. I'm so terrible at it that I just like to pretend that there are no goodbyes to be said, that everything will continue normally. This evening we had dinner with a family that has become very dear to my heart. The lovely, amazing wife was the first person at our church to welcome me and to care about me as an individual, not just someone's girlfriend, and this family has been there with us as we progressed from dating through engagement and into marriage. Dinner was wonderful, but I could barely look at anyone when we were leaving because both of us women were fighting back tears. I didn't want to acknowledge that this might be the last time we see them before we move or that we won't be sitting by them during worship service anymore. This morning at church was another verse of the same song; we have one more service before we move, but we won't have Sunday School next week and likely won't get the chance to interact with many of those people again before we move. I wriggled my way out of one set of goodbyes because it's just too hard! I'm not fond of crying in front of people unless it's tears of joy, and all these goodbyes are making my eyes quite moist.

This is by far the worst part of moving. In a way, I feel a little like we're having an extended funeral only without anybody dying; so many people want to share a last little something before we go. We've had numerous invitations for last dinners together or for grabbing coffee, and it has meant the world to me to spend time with our amazing friends. I only wish we had an extra two weeks or a private jet to transport us back to Houston at the drop of a hat! I know God will provide us with new friends and new relationships, but they will never replace those that we already have here.

Tonight our friends asked us if we plan ever to return to Houston. At this point in time, we both have expressed a desire to do so, but things are still very uncertain right now. I'm considering an extra 2 to 3 years of training on top of the 3 to which I am already committed, and that's another interview process right there if we decide to follow that route. Being okay with not knowing where we will be living in 3 years is scary to someone who obsessively records entries in the calendar on her Palm Pilot, but God is teaching me the importance of total reliance on Him through this. At dinner I shared that I actually did not get into my first choice program for medical school; 4 years ago, I wanted to do the MD-PhD program at UT-SW in Dallas. I got into medical school there but not the PhD part, so I accepted a position at my school here in Houston in the dual degree program. God knew what He was doing because 2 years later I switched to a straight-up MD (and cut 4 years off my time in school), and 2 months after I dropped out of the program, I met my husband. God is good. He is faithful. He is wise far beyond anything I'll ever understand. I know He'll direct my path.

In the meantime, I'm left with the painful task of saying goodbye. I prefer saying "See ya later" because it doesn't hold all the implications that "goodbye" does. In spite of the tears I've shed tonight, my optimistic side is prevailing. I'm looking forward to a new apartment where we are not surrounded by boxes and to forging new relationships in the next stage of life. I'm also looking forward to the big hugs we'll get when we come back to Houston whether to visit or to live. Most of all, I'm looking forward to watching my faith grow as I take His hand and follow where He leads.

A new name

Over the last few weeks, I've been going through the process of legally changing my name. I've had to prove to numerous people, businesses, and organizations that I have said the proper things in front of the proper person (namely our minister) and have filed the proper forms. Good times! One of the hardest parts about changing my name has been deciding what to keep as my middle name.

I've known for years that when I got married, I would take my husband's last name; it's always been a given in my book. What I never thought about was whether I'd use my maiden name as my middle name or whether I would keep the middle name that I've had for 24 (almost 25) years. In the end, I made the decision to drop my maiden name and keep my middle name. There were a few reasons that factored into this choice. First (and least important), I think it sounds prettier this way. I'm a very girly girl, and having my very manly last name ruined the flow (it also sounds hyphenated when you say it quickly, and that's not my bag). Second, I love my middle name. Elizabeth is my mother's name, and I've always thought it was so beautiful. I have loved having a piece of my mom's name and have always thought it was very cool to carry a piece of her with me. She is one of the most amazing ladies I have ever met, and her strength has carried me through some of the darkest times in my life. Certain choices I have made in my life have reflected my desires to pass on to my daughters some of what my mom has passed on to me; keeping this part of my name serves as an important reminder of what kind of wife, mother, and woman I want to be. Finally, I chose to drop my last name completely and adopt my husband's as a sign of our unity. I'll never stop being a part of my family, but like it says in Genesis, my husband and I are now one. We have begun our own family! I know this is certainly not true for all ladies, but I knew for myself that if I maintained my former identity, I would be holding on to my independence and would not be fully submitting myself to my husband's leadership.

Accepting my new name and my new identity is both difficult and exciting. I still catch myself using my maiden name at times (although it is happening much less frequently), but it's one of my new joys to sign my married name. Marriage is not a piece of cake; adjusting to living with someone, learning all their quirks, sharing a bed (I have always had my own!), and dealing with tough decisions together are all challenging, but it is so rewarding. I'm looking forward to seeing where God takes us over the next five years. I have no idea where that will be, but it will never be a boring ride!

Enthralled

I don't boycott very often, but several months ago I started drastically to reduce my viewing of the E! Channel. I now reserve it for "The Soup" or an occasional 5 minutes of TV viewing that requires no usage of my brain, but I no longer spend hours at a time parked on that channel. It's now The Food Network in our household (although The Duchess has been replaced in my eyes by the mighty Queen of All Things Southern). If you don't watch TFN, I highly recommend it. Back from this rabbit trail ...

You might be asking yourselves what prompted my reduction in gossip television. After getting engaged last year, I began to sift through bridal magazines and envision how I wanted to look when I walked down the aisle. I bought the wedding dress 9 1/2 months before the wedding, so I didn't have the added pressure of squeezing into a gown, but I still recognized the importance of getting into shape. I purchased a treadmill and a new set of running shoes and went to town. While I'll never run a marathon, I am rather pleased with my progress; I no longer huff and puff after a jog down the street. I also started to cook at home again after a 3 year absence from the kitchen, dramatically decreasing our fast food intake. What does this have to do with the E! Channel? Plenty.

The E! Channel runs hours of shows on celebrity diets, celebrity bodies, celebrity mommies who have a negative body fat percentage, celebrity workout plans, etc. As I watched these shows, I began comparing myself to these women and magnifying my flaws while minimizing my good qualities. I started to have a very negative image about most of myself and would be unhappy with what I saw in the mirror despite knowing that I was healthier than I was 1 year ago. I forgot how delighted my Father is with me and worried that my future husband would find me unattractive. One day the fiance (now husband) pointed out how negative I became every time I watched these shows, and I recognized what I had to do. I didn't think it would make such a difference, but it has. Now I no longer compare myself to photographs of movie stars (which are likely air brushed anyways), and I do a much better job at accepting myself for who I am. I still try to take care of myself, but I no longer hold myself to an unrealistic goal.

Psalm 45:11 says, "The king is enthralled by your beauty; honor him, for he is your lord." Many women can quote Proverbs 31:30 by heart: "Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised." How precious these verses are! How freeing to know that God sees me as His beautiful creation and that I am lovely in His eyes! I don't have to be a size 2 to please Him. I Samuel 16:7 says, "The LORD does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart." True beauty is not merely external. I pray that I will spend more time making my heart like His and therefore more beautiful instead of focusing solely on the outside. The reward is immensely sweeter.

It's a blonde thing

I am the only blonde in my family. Apparently recessive genes are my specialty as I also have blue eyes, very pale skin, and a very short stature. One of my best friends in high school was African-American, and she used to tell me that I was the posterchild for Germany. Oh the love!

In an effort to fit in, I've been adding brown into my hair. One of my friends calls it my "artificial intelligence," and many of my other girlfriends tell me how silly it is that they're adding blonde in while I'm adding in brown. I don't care; I like it! I love dark hair; if I thought I could get away with it, I'd probably dye my entire hair a rich chocolate brown. Of course my husband would come home thinking he'd entered the wrong house, and with the pale skin, I'd probably just look like a goth. It's not a great idea.

This week I have uttered several things that have proved my blonde roots are real. For your enjoyment, I offer them up on my blog.

#1:
Me: That reminds me of that song by the Brian Seltzer Orchestra.
Hubby: You mean the Brian Setzer Orchestra? You just turned him into an antacid.
Me: That's how it's spelled? Really? I didn't know that.

#2:
Me: I wish our friend would hurry up and go to cemetery. Then he'd be in Dallas closer to us!
Hubby: What did you just say? You mean seminary?
Me: Yeah, that's what I said ... Shut up, I'm tired!

#3:
When we were in Dallas, we repeatedly drove by Mockingbird Lane, prompting us to sing the mockingbird song from Dumb and Dumber. Mind you, I've only seen this movie once, so my knowledge of this song extends from hearing the husband and one of my classmates sing it. It's supposed to have 2 people singing with the 2nd person saying "Yeah!" after each syllable.

Mock!
Yeah!
Ing!
Yeah!
Bird!
Yeah!
(and so on ...)

Several times when the husband started the song, it went like this:
Him: Mock!
Me: ING!
Him: No no no ... you're supposed to say, "Yeah!"
Me: Yeah! *giggle* Like that?

I couldn't get it right for the life of me.

Yep, I'm going to hold children's lives in my hands. It's a scary thought.

Answered prayers

We managed to start the week off in paradise (Maui), return home (Houston), and travel to our new home (Dallas). We're up here right now searching for a place to live. Seeing as I'm going to be both leaving my apartment before 5 AM on some mornings and also driving home from the hospital after not sleeping for over 34 hours, we decided that we wanted to live relatively close to the hospital. This was going to present a little bit of a challenge to find a place that met our budget and our specifications in only two days.

We arrived yesterday and drove around for a bit before starting to visit different apartments and condos. We liked the first place we looked at, but it was definitely out of our price range. The next place we visited was definitely within our range, but it was older and pretty run down. The third place was the same story. The fourth was within our price range but kind of small ... yada yada yada. We were getting tired of checking out places but decided to look at one more before returning to our hotel. The last place was recommended to us by someone from another apartment that didn't have any openings, so we weren't really expecting much.

After a short drive in the opposite direction (which made it seem like a long drive), we arrived at the apartment complex. It looked very nice, so I assumed it would be out of our price range. We proceded to talk to a very dry gentleman in the front office, and he quoted us two different prices for two different units. The lower price was a little above our range, but we figured we might as well take a look at the units. We were then passed off to a very bubbly young woman who drove us around in a golfcart and laughed at my husband's jokes (he was immediately impressed with the place after that). When we walked into the first apartment, I thought to myself, "This must be the larger one; I'm sure we can't afford this." Imagine my surprise when she told us she was showing us the smaller one first! I began to get excited; this place had everything I wanted -- a FABULOUS kitchen, lots of closet space, room for a washer and dryer, and lots of wall space in the living room (my place now has NO wall space in the living room, so the couches are very awkwardly placed). I pulled my husband aside (I actually hid in the closet so the girl wouldn't see me) and whispered, "I really like this place!!" She ended up showing us the larger apartment as well, and I actually liked it a little less.

I could tell that we both liked the place, but we wanted some time to pray and to think about it. After we came back to the front office, we were talking with the girl some more, and she took $50 per month off the rent, bringing it a lot closer to our target price. We left, pretty excited and pretty sure that this was the place for which we had been praying. We decided to keep our appointment in the morning with a woman who was showing us 2 properties, but after viewing those this morning, we looked at each other and headed back to our top pick from yesterday. As we were filling out the lease application, we mentioned our reason for moving up here, and the girl filling out the paperwork commented that this would give us a discount. The discount knocked us just under our target price.

GOD IS SO GOOD!! I could not believe it. We totally did not expect to find a place like this, and I know that it's all because of Him. How exciting to see His hand at work yet again in our lives!!

A Surprise Guest

First off, Maui was amazing. I don't think I could have asked for a better vacation. The entire island is gorgeous, and spending it with my new husband was the best gift I could ever have asked for. I think we must have spent half the trip laughing, and on the plane home on Sunday, I pointed out that he stated "That's one of the funniest things you've ever said" at least half a dozen times over the last week. Apparently marriage makes me a funnier person. I think I'm funnier around him than I am around other people because there's no pressure to be anything; I can just do stupid stuff to make him laugh. If you don't believe me, ask the person next to us on the 59 feeder tonight; I'm sure my dance moves to the Black Eyed Peas looked more like I was having a seizure than it did dancing!

In spite of the fabulous time we had in Maui, I think we were both ready to be home. It was so weird not having to send him back to his place on Sunday night!! Right now our apartment is a giant sea of dirty laundry, half-unpacked suitcases, and boxes. We're still trying to move him in, and my head starts to spin when I contemplate doing this all again in 30 days. My husband is much better at spacial organization than I, so he took it upon himself to help clean up the main living area. We sorted the wedding gifts into 2 piles: 1) to unpack in Houston and 2) to unpack in Dallas. We decided to store the ones we'll unpack later in my attic. The attic in my apartment is only accessible by climbing to the very top of a ladder, sliding off the wooden cover to the attic, and pulling yourself up by your arms. It was obviously not designed for those of us who are vertically-challenged, so we devised a plan for me to climb up into the attic and have him pass me the gifts we wanted to store. I'm not able to turn on the attic light until I've slid off the cover, but that's never been a problem ... until tonight.

I pulled back my hair and climbed up the ladder. When I slid the cover off the entrance, I thought I felt it hit something, but I figured it was probably a box of Christmas lights or something like that. I flipped the light switch as I pulled myself up into the attic, and when I turned around, right on the cover was a dead bird with no head. I pride myself on being rather "tough;" I'm not squeamish about many things. I figure that if I can cut people open (among other things that I'll leave out), I can handle just about anything. I'm not afraid of most animals (onily snakes and very large spiders), so I just gasped and told my husband what I'd found. He didn't seem bothered by it at all, so I tried to be pretty tough and to ignore my visitor. However, the more time I spent up there, the more I realized that this must not be my only guest since the bird was missing its head, and it freaked me out. After a few minutes, I got the hubby to come up to the attic and take the bird out (good thing I married a country boy!), and I was able to stay up there and finish the job of getting the boxes organized. This whole event has spawned so many questions, but I'm trying to shove them to the side and not answer any of them. All I know now is that I am definitely not going into the attic if he is ever out of town on business. I don't know if I could handle what I might find!

On that note, I'm going to try to get some sleep. My body is still on Hawaii time, and it's only 7:45 there. I wish I could be a guy and have no problems falling asleep anywhere and at any time!