Open Letter to my Treadmill

Dear Sole,

Yeah. I mean you in the corner with the clear plastic sheet draped over your dusty, rubber tread. I've got my eye on you. Don't think for a minute that just because I'm lying here on the floor with 7 pillows propped underneath me in a mad attempt to contort the sciatic pain out of my body that I've forgotten about you. And no, that rolled up yoga mat doesn't hide you from my ire at all.
Oh no.
No way.
I remember.
You and I have a date with my Sauconys, you lazy $!^@*. Now I know it's been nearly a month since we've tangoed. You see all that snow outside. You know full well that these are the kinds of days I love to drip sweat onto your console. Now I know you're laughing at me underneath all that drywall dust laden plastic, I realize that you are chuckling at my sore back and heavy belly. Is that a Mai tai in your water bottle holder??
Even with all your tricks I can still stomp you into the floor. Trust me I'll be back.
Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow but soon.
So be ready. It won't be long now.

Sarah

PS. Sorry I called you a $!^@*. I miss you too.

Could have called that.

Driving down front street today I followed a beat up Subaru for about six blocks. Said Subaru wandered side to side in and out of it's lane. He almost turned about three times but never did. He stopped about fifty feet behind the stop light at Division and shied away into the other lane completely to avoid parked cars going about 15 miles an hour the whole way. The Subaru eventually came to a complete stop in the middle of the road before making a hard right turn into the parking lot......at the Cedar Run Eye Center. Not a moment too soon.

Hang on Tight.....

tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick

The Elusive Child Free Day

I love being a pediatrician. I love being a mom. I wouldn't change either of those things for the world.

Let there be no mistake about those things. But....

Sometimes I would really just love a day without children. I fantasize about waking up, working out and taking a shower, drinking a cup or five of coffee, doing some reading and writing and not having to take care of kids, mine or otherwise.
In this fantasy day I might even go shopping. It's not something I love to do, it's just that whenever I do it, I can't linger for a moment for fear of losing my daughter or having her yank something off a shelf or break something. Forget trying anything on. I've tried a few times, she either escapes under the curtain into the adjacent stall or opens the dressing room door for the world to see as my head is stuck in a shirt. I love bookstores but with Adeline I can't make it out of the children's section for more than 5 minutes. It's not that she misbehaves, she doesn't know better, she's three and she gets bored and de-shelves all the books looking for pictures. Books are never off limits at home...why would these ones be any different?
On this kid free day I might do some cooking. I like to cook, I like to experiment with unusual recipes with a million ingredients. I love to cook with Adeline too. She's a good helper and it's great to give her tasks as she sits on a bar stool and "helps" me cook. But every once in a while I'd like to have the kitchen to myself.
I imagine moms and dads who work at home have similar fantasies. Just a day to get stuff done and maybe have a little "me" time. Do other pediatricians, school teachers and daycare providers feel this way too? Am I the only one? On Tuesday mornings I drop Adeline at daycare and spend 2 hours on my own before work. Right now, those are my only two child free hours in a week. Joel watches Adeline on Mondays and Fridays. I watch her on Wednesdays. On the weekends we share duties and on Tuesdays and Thursdays she's at "school" while Joel works from home. Even though I know he's working, I envy him and the days he has the house to himself. Is this selfish?
I wonder if I would crave these kinds of days if I didn't take care of kids for a living. I love working with children. I get to laugh and play and be silly while I do what I love. But it's draining too. There is no end to the jibber-jabber, drool, crying and "accidents". I wonder if I had a little more time without children if I would be a better pediatrician and a better mom. Not to mention a better wife. I'm not talking a day a week, like I said I love my daughter and my job and would feel sad and guilty without them but maybe one day a month....

Funky Cold Medina

So at 6:40 this morning as I'm driving in to the hospital before the larger part of the world was awake, I hear this song on the radio. It just made my day. Nothing like doing a procedure with Funky Cold Medina stuck in your head.

To prolong the day making here is the official recipe for a Funky Cold Medina. Hey whatever might help get Spuds Mckensie to your door....

-one ounce vodka

-one ounce peach liquor

-one ounce blue curacao

-a dash of cranberry juice

-some dry ice.

Enjoy, cause I can't...

So Begin The Doldrums

So begins the season when I randomly fill the void that the lack of football has left behind with hockey. Namely Red Wings hockey, as if there was any other kind. Someone might say "Have you forgotten about the Superbowl?" No, and I am thrilled to watch a team that the Lions actually beat this year play in XLV. Not to mention that that game was their first conference win in God knows how many years. Actually, I do know. It had been three years. For those of you who don't follow football, that's an eternity.




So before I say good-buy to the pig skin for the year I'd like to send out a few thank you notes. Thank you Jim Schwartz for a better year. Thank you Suh, and back-up quarterbacks. Thank you Calvin Johnson, Jahvid Best and Kyle Vanden bosch with those crazy eyes. (Sorry about all that hurty stuff Hansen and Stafford.) Thank you those of you who might turn into a speakable secondary next year. Most of all I'd like to thank the Rams, Redskins, Packers, Buccaneers, Dolphins and Vikings.



Anyway, hockey fills some of the void, for a few weeks in March there is some decent basketball so long as Izzo lives up to his reputation. The Stanley Cup wraps up in June. Summer is a wash. I think I'd rather eat a baseball bat than spend 3 hours watching someone trying to use one.





sigh





Red Wings just scored and there is blood on the ice, in HD, I might add. So I think I'll be OK for a while.

None Of Your Bee's Wax

It's become quit obvious that I'm expecting. I can no longer blame the bump on a few extra Christmas cookies, though they did help. I don't mind when patients ask about it. I get a lot of "Are you expecting?" "When are you due?" "Is it a boy or a girl?" "Is it your first?" I'm obviously pretty excited about having another baby so I really don't mind this line of questioning.

But yesterday a mother who I have seen with her children only once or twice before asked me; "Was this a planned pregnancy?"

uhhhh

Nobody but my OB has ever asked me that. I don't think I would have been uncomfortable if a friend or a family member had asked me this but a patient? eek

So what else could I say but "Yes" followed closely by "Keep Johny out of school one more day and here is your slip for checkout."

But it made me wonder, should I be answering any of these questions if I don't feel comfortable answering all of them? Is there a line in the sand when it comes to the Doctor Patient Relationship and such things? And if there is who crossed it? Me by being open about some things or her by crossing a line I had arbitrarily drawn?