Rex Christi

Today we celebrate the feast day of Christ the King--a King that yes, has conquered death and rules over all, but also a King Who humbled Himself, Who let Himself be beaten down, rejected, denied, betrayed, mocked...for me. And I get upset when I am shot down at work, when I get lonely, when I am not chosen first, when I don't get put on a pedestal for being the best. It seems as good a time as any to break out the Litany of Humility again. Again. Lord, help me remember that blessed are those who are poor, hungry, sorrowful, and persecuted, and that it's okay if I am those things as well.

Litany of Humility

O Jesus, meek and humble of heart, Hear me.

From the desire of being esteemed, Deliver me, O Jesus.
From the desire of being loved, Deliver me, O Jesus.
From the desire of being extolled, Deliver me, O Jesus.
From he desire of being honored, Deliver me, O Jesus.
From the desire of being praised, Deliver me, O Jesus. 
From the desire of being preferred to other, Deliver me, O Jesus. 
From the desire of being consulted, Deliver me, O Jesus.
From the desire of being approved, Deliver me, O Jesus.

From the fear of being humiliated, Deliver me, O Jesus. 
From the fear of being despised, Deliver me, O Jesus. 
From the fear of suffering rebukes, Deliver me, O Jesus. 
From the fear of being calumniated (slandered), Deliver me, O Jesus. 
From the fear of being forgotten, Deliver me, O Jesus. 
From the fear of being ridiculed, Deliver me, O Jesus. 
From the fear of being wronged, Deliver me, O Jesus. 
From the fear of being suspected, Deliver me, O Jesus.  

That others may be loved more than I,
Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it..
That others may be esteemed more than I,
Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.
That, in the opinion of the world,
others may increase and I may decrease,
Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.
That others may be chosen and I set aside,
Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.
That others may be praised and I go unnoticed,
Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.
That others may be preferred to me in everything,
Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.
That others may become holier than I,
provided that I may become as holy as I should,
Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

Lord, grant us the desire to become Holy through humility.

The Hard Stuff

When I first started this whole doctor thing, people would say, "It must be so hard to be around sick and dying kids." Yeah, I guess, I would reply, and brush it off, because I hadn't seen the really sick, and I hadn't seen the dying. Pretty much everyone got better and went home, and I thought, this isn't so hard after all. Children are resilient, and medicine has advanced so much. We're in the business of curing kids!

Then came the first death, and the second, and then Heme/Onc, and the NICU. And now every time another "Death Notice" email comes through my Inbox, I cringe, because now I know their names. I remember their faces and their voices, their rooms, their parents, their pajamas and their favorite gatorade flavors. And it's awful. I keep trying to think of a "but" statement, like "but it's worth it" or "but I'm grateful to be a part of it" except that today, getting another email, and remembering yet another face, I don't have a silver lining. It's just hard.

Grateful

for seeing babies get better and get to go home
for days off and cinnamon rolls
for a warm bed
for music that lifts my heart to God
for family that ALWAYS keeps me company on my drive home
for a Broncos comeback win
for my health
for God's constant forgiveness
for patients that change my life
for hugs that last a full 7 seconds
for library books
for new super warm gloves
for you!

Residency 2.4: Behavior and Development

Sorry I'm a bit late in posting last month's recap. It was a lovely month in terms of hours--clinic work and such, with a few float in shifts. We had a wide variety of clinics and things to observe--psych visits for ADHD, anxiety, depression; behavioral counseling for toilet training and temper tantrums; playing with kids at a daycare; evaluations for reading delay and IQ tests--all sorts of different things. One of my most entertaining afternoons came in the hearing clinic, where I got to see all sorts of different strategies for testings very young and/or nonverbal children for hearing loss. I also learned a few tricks for when the patient is faking it--not faking that they heard the beeps, faking that they DON'T. Who would have thought I would ever see an 8 year old faking hearing loss? Seriously!

The over-arching sentiment for the month was relief that my family somehow turned out so normal. I saw so many parents at their wit's end from kids who were messed up, and also kids who were debilitated by dysfunctional parents. Maybe I should have had my parents do a B&D rotation when I was in high school, so they could have seen how good they had it!

At any rate, I'm back to inpatient--this month I'm in the Mercy NICU, and got off to a bit of a rough start (don't get me started on my first call shift), but it's getting better.

Also, Happy November! Where is the time going?????

A lifetime's not too long...

Cue "Another one bites the dust". Just kidding. Sort of.

We saw another House member married this weekend. And while there was a good mix of surrealism, joy, and "aww" moments that typically accompany weddings, the overwhelming sentiment this weekend (for me anyway; if you have a different sentiment, write your own blog!) was gratitude that friends can truly be friends for life.

The kind of friends that can pick up right where you left off--whether that was four months ago or 5 years ago. The kind of friends that let you pack up their leftovers in your to-go box, that jump on the bed with you to cuddle, that hug for the full 7 seconds it takes to release endorphins, that have so much infectious energy that even I ended up dancing for most of the night and loving it (we're talking crazy, CRAZY amounts of dancing here, people). The kind of friends who know all your quirks--and don't care if you know theirs--and love you anyways. All the time. No matter what.


I don't know when we'll all be together again, but it will be equally epic. And while I wish we could be physically closer, I know that truly, we're not far apart at all.

I am the 1%

I'm sorry for all of those people I may tick off, but I gotta say something.

The latest in a string of political fads, this whole Occupy Wall Street business sounds so kumbaya and modern, but if you get right down to it, it's basically socialism. They're arguing for freedom "to do what you will without the impositions of others." But in their minds, it's really freedom from consequences. The consequences of poor planning, inaction, fiscal irresponsibility, and selfishness. And then someone else gets to foot the bill.

Now, before you go all ballistic on me, I'm not saying that it isn't completely unfair that some people who have devoted their entire lives to a company have found themselves out of a job. And I'm not saying it's not unjust that a college student who worked hard for a degree is unable to find even an entry level job. And I'm certainly not saying that our government isn't broken and that health care is cheap or effective. Believe me, I am NOT saying that.

However, it is so in line with our American entitlement to blame some nebulous "1%" of rich, Wall Street bankers and corrupt government leaders--and then to lump any of us who are blessed enough to be financially secure in with them--for all of the problems the country is facing. Especially when it's the same government leaders they elected. I'm biting my tongue not to say "I told you so."

Wake up, people. This is where all the big-government hand-outs have gotten you: the most expensive healthcare system in the world, a never-ending list of inefficient government committees and practices that have us spiraling in debt, legislation controlled by lobbyists (because the legislators let them), and apparently 99% of you who are sitting around whining about it.

A little perspective from a friend of mine volunteering at a hospital in Malawi (and she would fall into that 1%, by the way):

Yesterday on Wall Street: Well-fed, well-dressed protestors drank Starbucks’ coffee, held up clever signs, and chanted “We are the 99%!”

Yesterday at St. Gabriel’s Hospital: A one-week-old twin died of starvation; her twin had already died shortly after being born. A mother and her baby died in child birth because it took the mother 3 days to get to the hospital and her uterus and bladder ruptured before she arrived. A 2-year-old boy died of cerebral malaria.

I ask the Wall Street protestors: “Who are the 99%?”

Opa

I'm wishing I could be at home today, reminiscing with my family, looking back at albums full of pictures, telling stories and shedding tears, and remembering a great, great man.

James Richard Zapapas, Sr. died early this morning, peacefully.

I remember the pride in his voice when he talked about The Candy Kitchen and Purdue, how he would tear up talking about how blessed he was to have his family, how he was never without his stack of "gas money", how he would get that smile on his face when he said, "Girls, I think we may just have to get a messy sundae" and how his fingers automatically rearranged his gin rummy hand. I will always remember his generosity and how important family was to him--perhaps his two biggest legacies.


And I will always, always be proud to be a Zapapas.