Here we go

Excited. Nervous. A little bit still in disbelief that we're doing this. Hoping I didn't forget anything.

This is going to be an amazing trip, and I'm extremely grateful for the opportunity. Not just to have all the cards fall in the right place to allow four of us with varying schedules to all be able to make the same trip, but also to be physically and financially able to do it, to do it with my family, to be united in prayer with so many others, to challenge myself in such an extreme way.

Pier Giorgio Frassati was an Italian mountain climber and activist who loved the Lord. On the back of a photo of himself, on what would end up being his last climb, he wrote "Verso l'alto"--towards the top. This was how he lived his life, in climbing and in faith, striving for greatness in everything he did. I pray for the grace to do the same.

SAD

Paraphrased from an old dooce post. I wanted to share in case anyone needed to read it. This is pretty spot on. I'm grateful to be in a good place right now, but if you know someone out there (or even a little closer to home) that finds September (or any season) hard, take heart. It won't last forever.

Five years ago Jon and I took a mid-week afternoon drive through the Alpine Loop to take photographs of burnt red trees and the sharp shadows of aspens standing in formation, ready to march, waiting for a signal. We stopped for lunch at Sundance, several memory cards full of images telling the story of the mountain's transformation.

Jon looked at me over my iced tea and asked me what was wrong. I didn't know what to say to him because, while I knew there was something wrong, I didn't know what it was.
What is worse? Being sad because something tragic has happened, or being sad because that is all your brain knows how to do?

My psychiatrist recently told me that more people commit suicide in March and September than during any other time of year. The rapid change in light, he says, roughs up those of us who have those frayed circuits in our brains, even if we're medicated.

Now we know, and I thought that the knowing would make it easier. And it has in that September will turn into October and October will merge with November, and I won't be sitting at my desk feeling sad for no reason. But it's knowing that there is no reason that makes it even more unbearable. Because as much as a person with depression is sad, we are the same measure of angry that we can't just stop feeling this way.

Now that we know, I finally have an excuse to look forward to winter.

What do margaritas, Twitter, Blake Shelton, and my dad have in common?

Lots to be thankful for in the last week.

September 4—Today I slacked off a bit and was down in Housestaff “studying” since there wasn’t much going on in the Kidney Center. Ran into one of the graduated residents and a good friend, who I hadn’t seen in a while, and who also happens to give A-mazing hugs. Hugs that last longer than the seven seconds it supposedly takes to release endorphins, that leave no room to breathe between you. I am grateful for those kind of hugs.

September 5—I got to chat a bit with Catalina today, which normally is quite a rarity, but more common lately as she’s had a few “doctor” questions to ask me. Not that I’m masquerading as an internist by any means (and I may have phoned a friend, who phoned her husband-adult-ER-doc), but I’m grateful for any chance to talk to Cata and feel involved in her life, since I did such a crappy job of being supportive growing up. I’m grateful that she makes me laugh, that she’s not afraid to say, “I love you,” and that all the workup is normal so far.

September 6—Tonight I went to an art exhibit with Rashy. In addition to feeling artsy, free margaritas, and Chipotle snacks and coupons, we had lovely conversation, ranging from reflective to challenging to slighty goofy (that was a STRONG margarita). I'm grateful for friends that let me be myself and share my faith and that I feel comfortable saying just about anything to.

September 7—Our advocacy lecture today was by an awesome community pediatrician about using social media to educate ourselves and our patients. She finally motivated me to get on Twitter, so that I can follow the leading voices in peds healthcare across the country. This way, they can do all the work for me of filtering through secular media and pop culture as it relates to medicine, and I can read the highlights. I’m grateful for something simple I can get excited about that may help the way I change kids’ lives.

September 8—Today I checked 3 more things off of my Kili packing list. There’s almost nothing left to get! And I had time to go for an 8 mile hike/walk in the park in nearly perfect hiking weather (sunny, light breeze, 70s). I’m super grateful that I get this amazing opportunity with my family to take this trip of a lifetime, no matter the outcome. But as dad said, it would be fine with us if we summited.

September 9—Today is Padre’s birthday. So, so, so grateful for him in my life and all the things I’ve learned from him and the great example he is to me. I could rant and rant, but we’ll just leave it at the fact that I have a pretty sweet dad. And no, I didn’t just put that because I know he’s always the first one to read my posts. Also, today, I’m super grateful for an awesome fall day with fun photos, mimosas, football, friends, and key lime ice cream. And since I know he’s reading...I said doody!

September 10—I know this sounds kind of stupid, but season 3 of The Voice started tonight and I LOVE it. Yes, I love hearing people with amazing voices. But mostly, I love watching Blake and Adam yell at each other and Blake do his little finger motion. I haven’t laughed that much watching TV since probably the first time I saw Wipe Out. I’m grateful for a schedule this month that lets me just hang out in the evenings, and for laughter. And for Blake Shelton. :)

Verso l'alto

We're getting down to the wire with the Kilimanjaro training. Just packed up all my stuff to make sure I was under the weight limit, and I'm about to head out on a hike. I still can't believe we're doing this. Remember how only crazy people climb mountains? Nineteen-thousand-foot mountains?

At this point I'm down to a few last minute purchases (snacks, lithium batteries, cheap paperback for the airports) and tasks (put the mail on hold, remember to start my malaria pills), and trying to keep up on the workouts without getting totally burned out.

As I collected prayer requests to take with me to the top of the mountain and back, I was struck primarily by two things. First, I have incredible, holy friends. People willing to pray for us, and asking me to pray for their vocations, growth in holiness, dear friends for whom they are storming heaven, etc. I am super blessed to be surrounded by awesome examples of Christ's love and sacrifice. Secondly, there is a lot of suffering in this world. As the intentions came in, my heart broke as my loved ones shared with me their fears and pain. It's not insurmountable, as we have a God that is bigger than all of it, but it drove home the fact that this life just doesn't make sense unless through the eyes of faith. We were made for more, and the road is not easy, but worth it. I can't imagine trying to make it alone.

Please keep praying for us as we get closer to launch. And please, if you have other prayer requests, shoot them my way. I'll offer up the sleeplessness, fatigue, knee pain, and discomfort for grace for you.

Belay on

Rashy took me rock climbing last night. My lats still haven't recovered. This is not your Family-Fun-Center-scramble-to-the-top-any-way-you-can rock climbing. This is people-bring-their-own-shoes-and-don't-even-think-of-using-a-hold-that-isn't-on-the-route rock climbing. And. It. Was. Awesome. Mentally and physically challenging, great community, lots of room to grow. I'm hoping to go back soon. For now, enjoy this shot of my butt.

Residency 3.2: NICU, Part the third

Just finished my third and final month of NICU, and let me tell you, there was no love lost as I waltzed out of there at 4 pm. As you may have surmised from my prior NICU/Truman posts, this is not my most favorite place in the whole wide world. In fact, I think it may come in as like my 145th favorite place in the world, behind Target, but ahead of airports. In reality, we didn't have that bad of a month. My calls were fairly mild, our interns were strong, and though the census was high, the babies weren't all that sick. Still, I get cranky way more often over here than on other rotations, it seems. And, this time around, it was coupled with just a touch (read: whole-whopping-lot) of senioritis. Is August too early for that? Too early for tuning out during rounds, taking 30 minute breakfast breaks, and stretching meetings an extra hour just to not go back to the NICU? Brace yourself, cranky-pants, we got another 10 months to go.

I remember back to my first time in the NICU and those terrifying calls where I had to look up what to say in response to, "He hasn't peed in 23 hours, what do you want to do?" The answer--always--is wait longer. See? Now you can skip straight to second year. However, besides getting more delivery experience (which was essentially the goal), and teaching my squirrely interns the ropes (who am I kidding? They basically teach themselves), I don't feel like I learned a whole bunch, and I'm hoping that doesn't set a precedent for third year. I don't wanna be so checked out that I'm not taking advantage of these last few months where I have a safety net and plenty of resources at my fingertips. Right now, all motivation has to go towards finishing my Professor Rounds presentation and prepping for Kili, followed shortly by job hunting (yikes!), but maybe if I wish hard enough, I'll become a human sponge and just start absorbing things around me. Only useful things, though. I don't really care about the Chiefs' front line or how much 'Magic Mike' took in at the box office.

See? I can't even focus long enough to write a proper blog post. I better quit now.

The Burning House

Foster Huntington, in May of 2011, asked himself what he would take with him if his house were on fire. The answer led to an intriguing project that demonstrates how uniquely each of us attaches to material things. It got me thinking about what I would take with me. I was surprised by how many of the things I've accumulated over the years that I was ready to leave behind. It's all just stuff. Stuff that I like, and that would take me a long time to replace, but just stuff.

In reality, the items I chose were so scattered throughout my apartment, and I had to think through each one of my storage spots, that there is no way I would actually be able to gather this exact collection to save. If I had that much time, I'd just put out the fire. No, in real life, I'd look around, grab an armful of the most expensive things, plus the cash and savings bonds in my dresser (don't come rob me), and get the heck out of Dodge, praying that I'd estimated high on the renter's insurance. But if we suspend reality for a moment, to let me reflect on irreplaceable things, here's what I would grab (let's pretend I could carry it all in one trip).

Twenty-eight years' worth of stuff

1) My laptop. Too much stuff on here, and no backup drive (I know, Dad, I should back everything up)
2) My phone. Cause, otherwise, how would I call the fire department? Also, let's be honest, I'm now lost without my phone.
3) My TEC Bible...I've already got all the important stuff underlined. Don't want to waste all that work.
4) I've got a drawer full of all sorts of things I want to keep. We call it a "Forever Box", cause that's the stuff you want to have, you know...
5) Couple of pictures that are professionals, so I don't have the negatives...Michelle hooding me, Mimi and Grandad, and the Zapapi.
6) Also, a photo strip from Milwaukee with The House, after Brady's wedding--first photo booth experience, and it was everything I wanted it to be.
7) Various artifacts from my globetrotting sisters...Moroccan jewelry box from Michelle, Jamaican drum from Kelly, German beer boot from Mary.
8) The pearls from Mimi and Grandad for my 16th birthday
9) Pearl necklace from John
10) Grandma's diamond cross necklace
11) My keychain collection--I'm proud of it, and it would take WAY too long to replace.
12) My billfold--you know, driver's license, credit card, Starbucks' card, library card, PALS card--all the good cards.
13) My passport (complete with Tanzanian Visa)...no way I'm jeopardizing my Kili trip this close to launch time.

The End.