What is that smell?

When I woke up yesterday, I realized that the same muscle I pulled six weeks ago was feeling tight. Since I'd been on my feet for roughly 30 consecutive hours over the weekend and worked out on Monday, I decided to give myself the day off. I even tried a little Capzasin on it before I went to bed, but it's been REALLY tight today. It hasn't spasmed like last time, but it's been tight enough that I'm walking a little different and have really been uncomfortable. Hubby and I were out running errands tonight, so I asked if we could stop at CVS to get some medicine.

After looking at the ingredients in the creams, I ended up selecting the one with the most ingredients (which also had the highest concentrations of any of them as well). One of the ingredients happens to be methyl salicylate; one whiff of this stuff, and you'll be transported back to your grandparents' medicine cabinet. As I was putting it on, I made some crack to Hubby about being able to call me "Grandma," and we had a good laugh. He left the room for a few minutes, and when he returned, he exclaimed, "Honey, you really DO have that old woman smell!"

At this point, I don't even care. I have to say that the cream is working! My calf is tingling, and I can actually move my leg further than I've been able to do so for the last two days. If smelling like a Wint-O-Green Lifesaver is what it takes to be able to walk normally again, I will suffer through it!

Miracles still happen

As I've said before, being a physician has strengthened my faith in God and pushed my faith to new limits like no other experience in my life. The intricacies of the human body remind me daily of how fearfully and wonderfully made we are, and I constantly marvel at His handiwork.

The last few weeks in the PICU have reminded me of that so much. We have had many sick patients who have not done as well as we have hoped, but we also have one patient in particular who has overcome incredible odds and is doing so much better than we could have ever predicted. Many people including me as well as many of the nurses and other providers have been praying for this patient diligently, and it's so incredible to see God working and restoring health in front of my very eyes.

Being able to participate in this patient's care has been such an honor. A family member thanked me today for all the work the team has done for this patient, and I was reminded of what I told this patient's mother (a fellow believer) a few days ago: "You know why [this patient] is doing so well, and so do I. God is the one who is healing."

I pray for my patients often, and I want to be more consistent at it. Doing so is a reminder of where my place is and what my role is, and I don't want to allow myself to get so easily caught up in the day to day rush of residency that I can sometimes forget that praying is one of the most important things I can do for my patients. I am simply a tool in the Master's hands, and my earnest hope is that He will use me as He sees fit to bring comfort, healing, or both to many families according to His plan. My post from almost a year ago still rings true in my heart.

Thank God

Last night I had a big scare. I was scratching something on my back when I noticed a new very dark spot in the middle of my back. It was just out of decent view, and since Hubby was out of town, I couldn't ask him to examine it better. I even tried to take a digital picture of it by sticking my arm behind my back, but I was unsuccessful. I have extremely fair skin and have already had a few concerning moles removed from my back several years ago, so finding this new spot really scared me. Hubby had actually fallen asleep already by the time I found this, so I wasn't even able to tell him about it last night. I left him a message on his voicemail and managed to finally fall asleep.

This morning I managed to find an appointment for 1:30 PM with one of the dermatologists associated with the medical school with which I am affiliated up here. She took a look at this spot and then called in another dermatologist to take a look, and they made the decision that it's nothing! I am SO thankful. I didn't even need a biopsy! They even complimented me on how well I am taking care of my skin and told me to keep doing what I'm doing now. (It's easy not to get any sun when you work from 7 AM to 7 PM!)

To make my day even more exciting, I managed to get caught in a snow storm on my way home; the lady at the store where I had stopped laughed at me when I told her that I have no idea how to drive in the snow! Thankfully I made it home safely. Hubby's flight home got cancelled, but he was able to make it on an earlier flight and should be home shortly after seven tonight. I'm so excited!! God's grace is abounding in my life today, and I am so thankful.

A time of renewal

I've been having a pretty rough go at it for the last few months. My patients have been very sick, and I've been separated from my husband much more frequently than I would like. I haven't been "sick" per say, but I have been so much more tired than usual. I have been emotionally drained and haven't felt very "happy" in a while. This has not been an easy time for me.

This weekend was my church's ladies' retreat. I was initially very hesitant about going, but one of the girls from my Sunday School class invited me to stay in her room, so I decided it might be a good idea. I really had no idea what to expect, but I now can see that God was preparing this weekend for me.

Our pastor's mom spoke to us and discussed Romans 12:1-2. The theme of the retreat was "A Time of Renewal," and the Lord used the twenty-two hours I spent in Waxahachie to refresh my soul and meet me in my deepest places of need. He allowed me to deepen relationships with my sisters in Christ and to establish a few new friendships with ladies outside of the typical age range I usually hang out with. He gave me the ability to see my life in a new light and to remember the importance of joy even when trials arise. I was able to return to Dallas with a lighter burden than the one I had brought to the retreat.

The best moment of the retreat came after lunch on Saturday. The main conference room was opened up 30 minutes early to allow us quiet time to pray, read, or meditate on Him. I slipped into the room and curled up in my chair with my head resting on my Bible. As I wept and cried out to Him for myself, my family, my lost friends, my patients, and so many other things, He brought verses to my mind and whispered comfort to my soul. What a sweet and merciful Savior!

Drained

About 3:45 AM today, I rubbed a mommy's back as she waited in the ER for her baby to move up to the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU). This particular mommy had just gone home YESTERDAY afternoon (I signed the discharge order myself) after a several week stay in the hospital for cancer-related issues. 24 hours later, they were back since their precious one had a fever (and a very serious infection as the story and the labs are unfolding). I had met this mommy a few hours earlier as we were preparing to send her baby up to my floor, but while he was in the ER, he took a turn for the worse and needed a higher level of care than we can provide on the floor. I wanted to come see the little one as well as this sweet mommy since they will hopefully be returning to my floor after the badness subsides. My Spanish is meager; I'm much better at asking direct medical questions than carrying on a conversation, but since no one around spoke much better Spanish than I did, I figured something was better than nothing.

Her eyes were red as I tried to comfort her. I don't know how much she understood, but I hope I was able to let her know that she's not alone and that we are going to do everything we can do to care for her little one. This baby was so fussy because of many factors including a strange environment, blood draws, and the infection to name a few, but one look at mommy made things so much better. I wish I could have provided the same thing to her.

Btw, my sweet little patient from my last post went home yesterday. I'm so happy for her and for her family.

This month is so hard, and I am so drained. I haven't been taking care of myself, and I am really starting to feel it. Working 68+ hours per week and fighting your natural circadian rhythm can really wear you down.

Heartbroken

My grandmother is dying. She has Alzheimer's among several other diseases, and after having her health slowly decline over the last five years, she has recently progressed to sleeping almost 24 hours a day and is barely eating or drinking. She was placed in hospice care over the weekend, and every time my phone rings or I find an email in my inbox, I'm expecting to get the news that she has passed.

My grandmother and I have had a horrible relationship; she verbally and emotionally abused me almost daily as a child for over 4 years. When my parents found out what was happening, they took me out of daily contact with her, and I don't think she has ever forgiven me for that. I wasn't able to really talk about what had happened with my mom until college five years later, and I couldn't even truly talk to my dad about it until my second year of medical school almost ten years after it all ended. After all, it was his mother, and I felt that if I told him the truth of what had happened, I'd be forcing him to choose between his mother and his child. I finally realized one day that he had already made that choice long ago and that as my daddy, he will always be on my side and be my protector when he can. I have continued to see my grandmother over the years, and with God's help, I have been able to forgive her. I can now look at her with pity, realizing what a rough life she had and what led her to the life she lived. I don't condone how she treated me or other family members, but I am able to understand and to forgive as I have been forgiven.

I tried so hard to be anything but her, but I became scared when I observed some of the negative traits she carried coming to life in me. I used to be extremely demanding, informing family, friends, boyfriends, and anyone around me how things had to be done the right way, my way. I would get mad and blow up at people for little things that didn't deserve such a reaction. I tried so hard to be anything but her that I was becoming the very thing I hated. I cried countless tears over the years as I faced up to my shortcomings and to my past, and with God's help, I faced the problems head-on and let go of so many of the painful pieces of my past. I don't know if I will ever be totally free of what happened as certain things still bring an ache when they come to mind, but I am free of my chains of captivity. My family tells me that I am a completely changed woman compared to six years ago, so having the ones who know me the best confirm the work that He has done in my heart makes the journey worthwhile.

My grandmother professes Christ. I truly do believe that she is saved, and I look forward to seeing her again one day, whole and healed from the bodily afflictions she's now enduring. I used to think that when she died, I wouldn't cry, that all my tears would have already been shed. Getting the email on Monday that she had been placed into hospice care showed me just how wrong I was; I sobbed as soon as I finished reading it. I know that it was just one more small sign that God is still working in me.

My heart is so heavy now. I weep for my grandmother and all the pain she endured in her life -- losing her father at age 3 to appendicitis, likely abuse at the hands of her relatives as she was passed around the family since her mom couldn't care for her, losing her firstborn daughter to mumps at age 4 ... the list goes on. I ache for my grandfather; he has spent over 60 years of his life with her, so will he be able to live now without her? I ache for my father and his siblings; imperfect as she is, she is still their only mom. I ache for myself; I never truly expected to have a conversation with her about why things happened the way they did, but I feel that there is a piece of our story that won't be complete until the next life when God will have wiped away all tears and none of this will matter anymore.

I will soon likely be making my first trip back to Houston since moving up here for residency over a year ago. I wish it weren't under these circumstances. My husband has been out of town since Monday morning, but I think the tone of my voice told him today just how much I am struggling right now and how much I need him here because he changed his flight to come back Thursday instead of Friday. I am glad that my feelings are those of sadness and love rather than of anger and hatred. God truly can work miracles.