Wednesday, July 30, 2008
This and That
I had tried to preserve my 'free day' this week. I made no plans, no internist, no dentist, no optometrist, nobody was going to get in my way of a day at home.Alas, Aidan's class had a special field trip. How could I pass up a chance to go hear a concert with him?! Of course not! So I planned my day around this commitment, between 11 and 1. One would think that I would remember to put sunblock on myself, but no. My shoulders are now beet red. The concert was fine, we all shared pizzas and drinks in the courtyard. The children were less enthusiastic about the guitarist, than about the lovely fountains. As the time came for the parents to part, the children slowly started to fall apart, one after another. Some sobbed the entire way back, clutched to their parents dearly, and were finally torn away screaming. Of course, a change from their routine, and the parting at nap time, made this doomed from the very beginning. As for Aidan, his day was doomed from the moment he woke up, and complained incessantly all morning, to me, to his teachers. Finally, I pulled him aside at the beginning of the trip to talk some sense into him. Thankfully, that worked, and at our parting, he blew me a kiss and went to the class with his teachers. Phew.
I leisurely fetched my mail and got the monthly newsletter from the private hospital I worked at. I wondered how long they will keep sending me these delightful reads. Aside from the usual stuff about being compliant to this agency and that regulation, this newsletter usually has an article, written by a physician, that would crack me up. In this month's issue was the reverie of a surgeon. He cleverly wrote these thoughts intertwined with a surgical dictation. Stuff like, "Why can't I sit down while I operate like the hand surgeons?" (Yes, hand surgeons SIT! What a luxury!) "Michael DeBakey, MD, recently died on July 11 at the age of 99. My medical school roommate asked DeBakey at a surgery conference if he asked for 'Debakeys' or 'myself' in the OR and he laughed and said, 'No, I just ask for pickups.'" (A lot of surgical instruments, diagnoses...etc, are named after the person who discovered/invented them.) "I can't remember, is this the normal 75 year old with the crazy family, or the crazy 76 year old with the normal family?" "I wish they could turn these rooms over faster, I have to pick up my kids at 4 pm and Best Buy is having a sale today on 40 inch flat screens." "I wish we had residents who could close this case so I could go get a banana or a blueberry muffin."
Now you know what your doctor is thinking, when your doctor appears to be listening/operating/dictating/working, but not really...
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
A Glimpse into My Future
Zoe is showing me a glimpse into my future, of what will be in my house when she is an adolescent. Pediatricians often talk about how the hormones that makes a toddler experience 'terrible twos' are similar hormones that drive puberty. How a child handles toddlerhood is how they will be as a teeny bopper.I am in trouble.
Zoe is REALLY stubborn.
She has developed a liking for peaches. She LOVES peaches. If given a choice, she would eat peaches at every meal. Not cut up peaches. The whole fruit. She will rip off the stem and hand it to me, and she will nibble at it, fully determined to get to the pit. Then she puts down the put, and signs for another one.
She can't live on peaches alone, or can she?
I usually set out the main meal on the table, and the children are free to have whatever is on the table. When it seems like they are done with the main meal, we move on to dessert, like a peach. Zoe rushes through the main meal, nibbling a conciliatory bite. Then she hands me her plate and points to the cart where peaches come from.
This morning, I decided that she should try something else, like yogurt. She got MAD. M.A.D. So I removed her from the high chair and she proceeded to scream while kicking her legs in the air. For the next twenty minutes. Good grief. She eventually calmed down, ate some of my scones and yogurt, then finished her breakfast in the high chair with a very tasty peach.
At dinner time, she ate two cherry tomatoes, then she just started to scream. For the next thirty minutes. Aidan, Hubby, and I thought we were going to be deaf, and then die. I had no objection of giving her a peach, or ten, but I object to this tantrum. So I let her cry. She crawled away from the dinner table, calmed down a little bit, but then stood up, started to cry, then threw herself on the floor. When I didn't do anything, she got up, walked over right in front of me, and threw herself down, and kicked, cried, screamed.
Obviously, she didn't get a peach.
I am trying to show her who is the boss.
I am losing. Oh dear.
Tomorrow, I have a new plan. I am going to make her a little tray and give her a plate with a little bit of everything, and a peach. There will not be a second peach until she tries everything. If she throws a fit, she is going to time out. I am determined. Threatening this mother with screaming and tears will NOT get you what you yearn for. Asking nicely, waiting patiently for your turn, are the behaviors that will get you what your heart desires.
Monday, July 28, 2008
If Only...
I have been reading quite a few books since Boards- I think the last time I read whatever, whenever I wanted was my junior year in college. By then, with organic chemistry and physics out of the way, I was taking all upper division biology and music classes, and those were breezy in comparison to E&M. My friends thought I should have signed up for more classes.Perhaps I should have. I have a few regrets about my college days. Most of them are not about academics, mainly, I wish I had hung out with friends more, that I had played more. However, with double majoring and trying to be sure I got into med school, there was just too much anxiety to go to midnight movies all the time. The other regret is that I really wished I had taken some history classes. Particularly, world war II history classes. If only. Like I have written previously, world war II history, particularly about the holocaust is endlessly fascinating to me. I regret not having taken a class with a real professor to expound on various ideas and themes. The reason I didn't sign up for those interesting classes? I was too afraid of lowering my GPA! My concerns back then, was to maintain an excellent GPA and the dread of possibly taking a class that would have required a lot of reading and writing stopped me. As much as I love writing now (and who wouldn't when it is really just about random stuff in my head) I really wasn't very good at writing papers- I think I probably had written a few papers with rather banal ideas.
Since those days are gone, and I doubt I will actually go audit a class, I have taken it upon myself to learn about this subject. I just finished Those Who Save Us by Jenna Blum. Fascinating read. Highly recommend it. Meanwhile, Ms. Blum has an entire list of recommended reading! I can't wait to get started with those.
As for my regrets about med school- I wish I had paid more attention. I remember telling Hubby the day before graduation, that if only I could retake all my classes. To be a med student second time around would make me a better student! Of course, I wouldn't actually do this if given the choice...I mean, what am I, a masochist?!
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Sex Education
Since I mentioned that I am looking forward to giving my children the proper sex education previously, I thought I would write about the kind of sex education Hubby and I each received from our parents.One of my parents' fears was that their daughters would get knocked up out of wed lock. They worried about us doing drugs, getting physically maimed, and getting knocked up. There was this aunt who did get pregnant before the wedding, and then, the baby was premature, and so, she had this baby about 3 months after the wedding. I was about 7 years old, and I distinctively remember that there was this family dinner at her parents' home and they put the newborn to sleep before everyone arrived and hoped that the baby wouldn't make any noise during the party, just so that they didn't have to explain this early arrival. So, this was made known to me, very early on, to be a BIG no no.
I was in third grade, and after dinner one evening, my mom was doing dishes. That in itself was unusual, since my mother never did dishes after dinner. (She typically let it soak until the next evening, when she would be making dinner, she washed dishes while waiting for food to stir-fry. Gross, perhaps, but really time saving.) Anyway, she called me over to the kitchen sink, and without making any eye contact, talked about menses, and semen. I was a little bit in shock, since before that, there was never talks about how babies are made. She talked for a while, in a very stern voice, and in the end, asked me, "So, can you get pregnant from kissing?" I tentatively said, "No?!" (I really had no idea, since kissing wasn't discussed.) Fortunately, that was the right answer and I was then told to go play the piano.
That was it, folk.
But I guess it was better than Hubby's. He didn't get any instructions. None. Nada.
In med school, a classmate had told me about one ob/gyn attending who would give a lecture about how to help your patients who can't orgasm. Apparently, the demo was done on a chicken wing bone (?!). I didn't do my ob/gyn rotation at that hospital and sadly, didn't get to see this live. (I bet you are curious though, huh? Me too.)
On my application to malpractice insurance, there was a secion about sex therapy. Specifically, do I do sex therapy, involving DEMONSTRATIONS. No kidding. For the record, I don't do this kind of therapy. In my sessions, we use WORDS. Not demonstrations.
Hubby and I had been talking about Aidan and Zoe, their sexuality, how we will teach them, guide them, to make good, godly, wise, decisions. Truth be told, this issue (and so many others) is completely dependent on God's grace, since we really can't control what they do and don't do...
Thursday, July 24, 2008
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Road Rage
As I had previously noted, the weather around here hadn't been that great. Hubby had been very accommodating to this wife. Things are improving, and we have decided to call these incidences "road rage." I think you can imagine... No need for descriptions.
My work finished early today (sometimes, I really like cancellations!) and my choices included:
1. Go home, take a quick nap, then pick up the kids.
2. Go home, get some housework finished, then pick up the kids.
3. Get the kids early, and take BOTH of them swimming at a pool that doesn't have a life guard, and neither of those children know how to swim. For that matter, this mother doesn't know how to to swim all that well herself.
The obvious choice was #3! My goal was simple: keep everyone alive, and pray that God's grace would abound in this situation and there would be no road rage.
I like to think that we all had fun. I didn't get angry. I didn't raise my voice. The best part was taking a bath with the kids after we swam- those days are numbered, since Aidan is 4... Although he did ask me in the bath, "Mommy, does Zoe have what you have?"
Me: "Yes, we are girls, and we have vaginas. Do you know what you have?"
Aidan: "I have a penis."
Me: "That's right!"
Aidan: "Why are we different?"
Me: "God made us this way, you need to have a boy and a girl to make a baby. Are you going to marry a lovely girl and make lots of babies?"
Aidan: "Yeah! I am going to marry Moira."
So sweet. I know this is weird, but in a way, I can't wait for him to ask questions about human reproduction. I am ready! Hubby gives me full reign in this arena of the kids' education. (Fringe benefits of having a job where I routinely ask people about their sex lives, and words like orgasms, inorgasmia, libido, just roll off my tongue.) -
Ambivalent Feelings
IMPORTANT: I do play a doctor in real life, but this is not a site for medical advice. TALK TO YOUR OWN DOCTOR.
I have been reading this particular blog about this woman's family. It has been amazing to see how God is working through this tragedy to show his glory and love, in the worst circumstances. This week, she wrote about how she decided to stop her anti-anxiety medications.
I have been thinking about it, and wondering about the issue, once again. Part of the reason I became a psychiatrist was precisely because some Christians often look down on mental health issues, namely "if you pray hard enough, God will help you with your depression/anxiety/hearing voices." Of course, I see it differently.
My professional opinion, and one that is held commonly among Christian therapists, including well known organizations such as Christian Counseling Education Foundation, is that psychiatric issues have biological and psychological components. In terms of biology, one example is that there is documented evidence, that for people who suffer from obsessive-compulsive disorder, their brains show a consistent abnormality in the caudate, that reverses upon medication treatment and clinical improvement. Unfortunately, such nice correlation between symptoms and pathology doesn't exist (yet) for all the conditions that I treat. There are vague conclusions that people with chronic schizophrenia's frontal lobes are smaller than normal subjects, but similar findings can be observed in dementia patients also. In terms of psychological issues, when a person has obsessive-compulsive disorder, it makes it very difficult to live with that person: checking the door gabillion times at night, excessive hand washing, that everything is ritualized, can cause certain discord in relationships...etc, that talk therapy would be helpful to tease out and work on. Through prayer and Biblical studies, God can make the medications work faster/better/well tolerated, and God can reconcile through psychological issues.
Certainly, God can heal anyone, of anything, at anytime. My job, is to be a part of His amazing plan. I don't know what His specific plans are, but I am here to say things like, "Well, I think medication A will be a better choice than medication B because of XYZ," or point out patterns in a person's life to help them gain insight into their psychology.
Yet it concerns me when people decide to stop medications on their own. Of course, God can prompt and lead them that way. (In such a situation then, a person ought to tell the prescriber, and be followed over time to make sure things go well. For instance, there is a phenomenon called withdrawal seizures for sedative discontinuation, but alas, I digress.) However, I wonder if people would be as 'daring' if the conditions were AIDS, meningitis, diabetes, hypertension, cancer or any chronic diseases? (Aren't there legal fights in courts over parental decisions to not treat minors who have the above illnesses?) Sure, depression/anxiety usually are not life threatening like meningitis can be, yet 15% of depressed patients die by suicide!
On the other hand, I think primary care doctors over prescribe psychiatric medications. (Most of the antidepressants that are being written are not prescribed by psychiatrists, but by internists, family practice physicians...etc.) Sometimes it seems like that when a person has marital problems, they are given some antidepressant, or when a person has difficulty sleeping (due to jet lag) they are given sedatives. Therefore, I do not offer medications as an easy way out: that getting on a psychiatric medication is actually signing up for at least six months of treatment and ought to be the last option. Inevitably, when people come to see me and tell me that they want off on their medications, I usually ask why and explored that ad nauseam, then I say, "Well, we can try tapering off and see how it goes." Then I cite the literature about the likelihood of these symptoms returning. For instance, once a person has had 3 distinct episodes of moderate to severe depression, the likelihood of a fourth episode is about 90% (and my recommendation is actually for life long therapy... not a popular suggestion- until the person develops a fourth episode...)
So I have some ambivalent feelings about how to reconcile my faith and my work.
Having rambled on about all that, maybe I am just miffed when people don't discuss their decisions with their physicians, and decide to take the matter into their own hands. I NEVER do that.
I have talked about work a lot recently. There really is more to my life than work, seriously. I shall resume my chronicles of the little people in the house tomorrow.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Requests
It appears that the age of making all sorts of requests has arrived our household. Aside from asking for shoes, Aidan is asking for ice skating/ice hockey lessons.A long time ago, Hubby, Aidan and I were on a walk around the neighborhood, with Zoe in my belly, and we walked into this Hollywood Videos store that was going out of business. They had quite a large of DVDs that they were trying to sell, and we found The Mighty Ducks. The DVD sat in our cabinet for a long time, and made an appearance last summer, when Aidan and Hubby enjoyed playing ice-hockey in our living room- there is a video of this in the archives. Anyway, he found it recently and had been wanting to watch it EVERYDAY. And now, he wants lessons.
AT first, I was a little sad, because if he wants to do hockey, then there will be no swimming. We are committed to our limit: no more than 2 activities at any given time. As of this fall, he will be starting AYSO on Saturday mornings, and I was hoping he would want to swim, since I had high hopes that he would join a swim team and do laps, everyday, after school, until he is exhausted. Also, skates are expensive! However, upon some research, I have changed my mind.
My real supervisor at work grew up on the East Coast, and as a child, he and his three older siblings would get dropped off at the ice rink at 1 pm on Sundays and his mother would return to pick them up at 5. The only way for them to stay warm for that long was to keep moving. By the time their mother got them, they would eat dinner and essentially, go to bed from sheer exhaustion.
I can live with that. Moreover, there is a rink really close by our house, and each lesson is only 30 minutes long, and the timing of the class works perfectly with our militaristic schedule, AND, each lesson comes with free skates! Most importantly, he ASKED to do this. Who knows, maybe he will really like it, and win some scholarship to some East Coast school (or Canadian school) where they actually play hockey... One can dream, right? Also, his sweet auntie Giddiemon picked up hockey in college, maybe they can play each other.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Boundaries
While leaving a voice mail for someone regarding my expiring medical staff privilege at my prior employment (since I can't foresee using my privileges there anytime soon, I was just going to let it expire, and had ignored all the mailings I had gotten about it. The medical staff office was concerned (how nice!) and sent me a certified letter, which then required me to go into the mail office during a work day, and caused quite a bit of anxiety in me. To me, certified letter addressed to My Name M.D. can only mean one thing: malpractice suit. So maybe I a little paranoid.) Anyway, I received a call from an unknown number. With these phone calls, I answer my phone as Dr. My Name.Me: "Hello! This is Dr. My Name."
Person: "Hmm. Hi! First Name, I mean, Dr. My Name. It is X."
Me: (I actually know this person, and people in this category of my life are typically making referrals to me.) "Oh, X, you don't have to call me Dr. My Name, call me First Name. What can I do for you?"
X: "Actually, I was calling to get an appointment for myself."
Me: (Dude! Why did I say what I said?! Now the boundaries are all messed up!)
We go on to talk about this and that, and I figured that I will just have to say the following when I see this person in a few weeks.
"Well, X, I think you are going to be more satisfied in treatment with me if you call me Dr. My Name. You see, First Name is good for chatting and hanging out, but she won't be offering any professional opinions. You are paying me to be Dr. My Name during our sessions, not a person to hang out with. But when you see me at other social functions (where I will see this person regularly) do call me by my first name."
My boundaries are becoming all blurred...
By the way, I was going to call the Board people and ask when I will get my letter. But no need to call. Their website said that these 'Grade Letters' will be mailed on August 29th, via first class mail. AUGUST 29th. What are these people doing?! The test is multiple choice! It is not there is any actual reading and grading!
Monday, July 21, 2008
Bad Weather
Whenever I see a patient, I do a mental status exam to answer some questions: what is this person thinking? How are they thinking? Included in this exam are evaluations for mood and affect. How to separate out what is mood and what is affect can be difficult to explain, therefore, somewhere along the way, I picked up this analogy: that mood is like climate, and affect is the weather.Let's just say that the weather around here has been very bad. B.A.D.
I have no idea why Hubby and I didn't realize this earlier: Zoe needs to decrease her bedtime milk intake, because whatever goes in must come out. While we are so super lucky to have a great sleeper (she is usually down for 12 hours straight) that means her diaper has to have the carrying capacity for 12 hours. No such diaper exists! Therefore, this poor little girl wakes up soaked, cold, and mad. In the past two mornings, she has woken up before 6. All that leads to the adults in the house very fatigued, contributing to the bad weather pattern here.
The children's climate and weather are all fine, as you can see here.
Check Hubby's blog for Aidan's picture from this same outing.
Meanwhile, Aidan likes to buy shoes. I had heard from my friend whose daughter usually requests to buy new shoes when they walk through Nordstrom. Somehow, Aidan had started to do the same. A month or so ago, I bought him sandals, "bad guy shoes." Almost as if he were a fish, who will grow to the size of the container, he needed new shoes this week. While walking through, he wanted to try on some new shoes. Go figure that the pair he wanted was $75, Seventy-Five. Shoes that he would wear for a few months. We said no. He then picked out a pair that was on sale, for $45. It became abundantly clear, that I can no longer shop for my little man, one with his own preferences, taste, and desires. What a huge step!
Therefore, I must enjoy these next 3 years (at most) before Zoe asserts her opinions about her wardrobe.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
What A Mother Will Do
It is obvious, that girls have far more options than boys, in terms of clothing anyway. Anytime I walk into a children's store, I see gabillion options for girls, and hardly anything for my sweet Aidan.Therefore, when I got my Nordstrom's Anniversary Sale catalog and saw this, I knew I needed to move on this. "What will Julius do when he grows up?"
I thought about preshopping for this item (people who hold Nordstrom credit cards are invited to Pre Shop. I don't hold this credit card, and thought I probably shouldn't take advantage. That, and there was a wait for this service last week.) Today, on the second day of the sale, I got myself there while everyone else was napping, forgoing precious sleep, and guess what?! They ran out. Sold out. Nada. Just think, thousands of mothers and fathers, ran as quickly as their tired legs and feet could carry them, for these seven pairs of underwear. Just so their little boys (there is a version for girls, although in my humble opinion, not as cute) could have something cute, just this once.
By the way, these undies are made in the USA! I ordered them through the store, and while I waited for the processing, another mother arrived looking for the same stuff. Hopefully, there is a huge warehouse somewhere, full of undies.
Friday, July 18, 2008
The Wrong Incentive System
Now that I have a fee-for-service private practice and a salaried position, I have to say that I see a lot of deficiencies in my salaried position.Namely, the wrong incentives. You see, in a big organization, one's goal in life is to see fewer patients, since the pay is all the same. Whether you see ten really difficult patients or nothing, you collect the same paycheck. Sure, there are accountability measures that is in place, but, let's be honest, since we are all unionized, one has to be really, really, bad to get fired. There is no bonus, and so why bother. When a new patient needs to be seen, it is often this, "Why can't Dr. SomeoneElse see him? Don't be such a j.a.c.k.a.s.s. and make me see him, don't you see I am busy?"
Whereas when I worked at the private hospital, and currently, in my own practice, I only make money for the work I do. And, if I want to make more money, my reputation is everything. When I get a referral, it is "Let me call him and see what he needs, and by the way, thank you very much for this referral."
Today, I was the only physician on duty in clinic. I had a productive day, and was beefing up my pathogenesis of postpartum mood disorders (doing something educational during my hour of supervision, since my real supervisor was out for the day), and what not, a case was brought to my attention, by my 'supervisor'. I say 'supervisor' because she isn't really my supervisor. You see, physicians should only be supervised by another physician, according to the medical model. However, public health systems do not operate within the frame of a medical model, and ironically, physicians are often 'supervised' by other therapists/nurses. A very strange setup. Anyway, I have no ill will about my 'supervisor' and actually like her in real life. I should get back to my story though. There was this patient who was seen by this other psychiatrist from another team (again, public health systems often have way too many teams. Bureaucracy seems to be the joy of these social workers/nurses who dictate the system.) This patient called and only had two pills left, and wasn't scheduled to see another psychiatrist on my team. Therefore, would I please refill his medication so he would have enough until next Friday. In my mind, I saw this:
Judge: "So, Dr. Malpractice, you prescribed this medication even though you have never laid eyes on him?"
Me: "Yes sir, but Your Honor, no one else was going to fill his medication."
Judge: "So you put him on a central nervous system ALTERING medication and never even asked if he had thoughts of taking all his pills for suicide?"
Me: "Yes sir, I did what I was told."
Right. I was NOT about to put my hard earned license in jeopardy.
I told my 'supervisor' that I would figure it out. I marched upstairs and found my 'colleague'. (This will be yet another example about a young attending who is about to be taken advantage of.)
Me: "Hi Colleague, I want to talk to you about Mr. NeedMedication."
Colleague (who was holding a half eaten peach): "I am not going to write his prescription. I should have left here at 3, and it is now 4:30, and I saw him as a favor."
Me: "I wanted to understand what was going on."
Her 'Supervisor' who happened to be in the room: "This is totally unacceptable! I don't understand why you can't cover for us. We cover for you ALL THE TIME! You should call in this prescription! (Getting louder) We gave him two weeks of meds as a FAVOR!"
Colleague: "This is ridiculous. I have too much work. Don't you see I am a part-timer? You need to fill his medication!"
Me: "I can't talk to you both while you are yelling at me." As I leaned on their door, nonplussed, as I was thinking, "You gotta be kidding me! You guys are worse behaved than my four year old!"
'Supervisor': "I am sorry that I yelled."
Colleague: "I AM NOT YELLING AT YOU!"
Me: "Voices are raised. I can't talk to people this way. I don't deserve this. I have covered for you before, and I am here to understand the reasons." While I was thinking, "You saw this man 18 days ago, you are the only MD who had seen this man FACE TO FACE. What makes you think I am going to call in a prescription for a person that I HAVE NEVER SEEN BEFORE? And you denying that you're yelling at me, NOT HELPFUL. And I bet, if I were older, White, and MALE, you wouldn't take that tone with me."
Anyway, the 'Supervisor' proceeded to gripe about why they are so overworked (do I really care?!) how they don't have a nurse (seriously, do I look like I care?!) and gave me a handout about this 'protocol'. Whatever.
In the end, I decided that the best thing for me, and for the patient (since he still has 2 pills left, that would cover for him for Saturday and Sunday, since he should have taken today's dose in the AM already) was to ask him to return to clinic on Monday morning, for a social worker to check in with him, and if he is safe, then I would call in five days worth of medications until he sees someone from my team.
I think, if our income depended on the work we actually do, this patient would have been offered an appointment earlier, and my 'colleague' wouldn't have been so resistant. Heck, I would offer to see him myself first thing Monday morning.
Also, those folks who think they can take advantage of me at work... You won't get your way. I will find you, and break you. Not really, I don't have time. I am too overworked. I should have left at 5...blah, blah, blah. And I need to find a peach for a snack.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
My Black Cloud
There are two kinds of medical students/residents: the kind that had the white cloud, and the kind that had the black cloud. I had lots of white clouds when I was in training- the on-call evenings were light, no real emergencies...etc. I knew residents with black clouds, that when they worked, they would get 25 admissions in the ER overnight, that they would get slammed at 4:45 pm on their no-call days...etc.However, I now have a black cloud about me, when I go see a doctor. I don't think I have ever been seen by an MD on-time. There was the time when Aidan developed a limp over the weekend, when he was about 14 months old, and I squeezed his appointment in between my own appointments. The pediatrician (not our regular one) was late by nearly an hour, and I called Hubby hysterically. The next time we saw the regular pediatrician, I asked him if there was documentation about my hysteria. He assured me that there wasn't. There was the prenatal appointment for Zoe, when the ob was an hour late, because some other woman was bleeding. And today, I waited for an hour to see my doctor with Aidan and Zoe in tow. While I had planned on waiting, for about 15 minutes, 30 minutes at the most, and brought stickers, new silly toys, a good attitude...etc, an hour was about to kill me, especially because we had seen Zoe's doctor prior to that. (Her doctor called in sick, and we didn't get a call for the cancellation, but fortunately, another really sweet and awesome doctor saw her as a squeeze-in, on time too!) Along with a trip to the pharmacy, my sweet, tolerant children, and their very frustrated mother, spent THREE hours there.
As for my diagnosis, I had to finagle a course of antibiotics from the doctor- she doubted that I had chronic sinusitis, but then again, she never asked me about feeling pressure on my face, or headache... Of course, she didn't want to put me on something that is once a day. Apparently, the penicillin family is better for sinusitis coverage, whereas macrolides aren't so much. I am going to have to verify this with my internal medicine friends!!! To say the least, not only was the wait horrible. The visit itself was not-so-good. This evening, whenever the phone rang, I had hoped that it would be someone from the office, apologizing for their system. But alas, to my narcissistic ego's chagrin, no such phone call came.
One of the reasons I love my ob, A&Z's regular pediatrician, or some of their replacements, is that they acknowledge the fact that I know some things about pediatrics/ob/medicine, and in their explanations, they don't talk down to me, yet they allow me to ask questions. They listen. And when I object to the treatment, for instance, putting Zoe on oral antibiotics (because she barfs up all medications I give her), he readily agreed to one intramuscular dose. I need to find someone like that for my primary health care needs...
And I hope, I am a doctor who listens to her patients. That I don't talk down to my patients, and that I don't make them wait too long.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Stuff...
This is going to be a post about random stuff.I took Aidan to our local Trader Joe's on Sunday, and as we drove into the parking lot, there were two guys holding up "Homeless, Please Help" signs at opposite corners. Since I decided that Aidan should learn to be grateful about having a home, having toys, plenty of food, and all that, just so that he would not grow up to be entitled (because, in truth, we don't deserve any of this) - I started to tell him about these people and the fact that they wouldn't be going home to a comfy bed, warm food, baths...etc at the end of the day. He was rather shocked- and asked me all sorts of questions about where they would keep their stuff, what happened to their families...etc. We decided to buy those guys sandwiches and bananas, and while we made these plans, Aidan asked me to put him in the car first, before handing out the food. Upon inquiring about this, I realized that he was really scared, after much reassurance, I put him in the shopping cart, and rolled over. It was a quick stop and as we walked back to our car, Aidan said, "They will have a home when they see God, God's house has many rooms, and they will have their own room." I was very impressed. For so long, Aidan had not wanted to hear about Heaven, because he didn't, and probably still doesn't, like the idea of us being apart. Nonetheless, I am impressed by how he has been listening. Indeed, in Our Father's house, there will be many rooms!
I have a very full day tomorrow, of visiting various doctors. Zoe will see her pediatrician for her 15-month check up. I will see an optometrist, to be told that my eyes are very dry, and my eye sight has gotten worse. I will also see my primary care doctor because I have been feeling really ill, for a very long time. I think it is hard to be a doctor's doctor. Therefore, I try to not see the same person in the group more than once, a little ashamed, perhaps. I usually arrive with my own differential and treatment plan. Of course, I value their opinions, but seriously, I am in good health, and most of the things I show up for are bread and butter issues of primary care, like being pregnant, eczema, mastitis, and tomorrow, chronic sinusitis. Actually, I am not entirely certain I have chronic sinusitis, but my voice hasn't been the same, my head feels like it might explode, and just feel all congested, for WEEKS. We will see what this doctor says about me. If s/he plans on putting me on antibiotics, I am demanding an once-a-day dosing regimen.
Sometimes, I feel that I am taken advantage of at work. Since finishing residency, I have had 2 positions, and being the most junior staff, I often get left with lameness. For instance, at my first job, there was this other psychiatrist who tried to pawn off call duties on me, making unequal exchanges, (at the hospital, at the time, being on-call on Thursday meant the same person would be on second call for the weekend, for continuity of care. That the doctor who admitted a patient on Thursday night, will see the person on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. A totally legitimate reason.) This guy thought I didn't know the rule (and I didn't), tried to switch a Thursday night with me for a Monday. HA! The awesome Medical Director realized this and told me I ought to point this out to him (since it was my call schedule, after all) and make an equal exchange. So I did. The guy opted to take back his own Thursday call. In my new job, fortunately, I have a few people looking out for me. The person who alerted me to such silliness today, was actually the person who retired and made the position available for me. He told me, (gasp!) that I didn't, and probably shouldn't, take on a new patient every week, or else my case load would explode, and I would die a slow death with it. Probably gangrenous. In retrospect, of course this would make sense! So, when the time for a new schedule comes around, I will not be committing myself to a new patient every week!
Speaking of medical care, the brouhaha of Medicare Improvements for Patients and Providers Act of 2008 leaves me wondering, what will happen to my career, in the long run. I think, the health care system might also just explode in my life time and die a gangrenous death. All I know is that because MediCare and MediCal reimbursements are so incredibly low, when I take these patients on in my private practice, it is like volunteering. One of the doctors who took care of my grandmother, once told my parents that taking care of her was his volunteering work. My mom was incredulous, but after I explained how this physician had to leave other patients, to drive to the hospital, to round on my sweet grandmother, and all that, for so little reimbursement, it was like working for free. It has been increasingly difficult for folks with MediCare, MediCal to find providers in the community. (Truthfully, I am one of those providers who can't/won't take those 'insurance' plans.) The amount of scrutiny these charts will undergo, and the incredible paperwork process to get so little in return (yet one is legally required to bill for these patients, you can't just decide to not bill the Federal Government either) is ridiculous...
I think this is enough ranting for today.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Simple Joys
I love my house, at this precise moment. Zoe is asleep in her crib, the boys are outside trying to fly paper airplanes. My father-in-law has brought over buns that he picked up at Chinatown earlier today, (which means, that tomorrow's lunches are taken care of.) The house is quiet.While the dinner table is full of c.r.a.p. that really ought to be put away S.T.A.T., I am sitting here, listening to some music that I love, marveling at the fact, that another day's work is (mostly) accomplished.
Work is hectic. I am feeling the burn- and constantly wondering, how do people do this for DECADES?! However, work is work, and it is over for the day.
I like how serene I am, when the house is quiet. If only I can hold on to this serenity when I am trying to return phone messages, only to find that more messages has arrived my mail box while I have been retrieving messages... Thank God my job doesn't require a crackberry...
Sunday, July 13, 2008
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Me
I am feeling fairly content these days. (Now that I have said these words, I imagine my contentment is going to evaporate instantaneously.)
While I was waiting for some dumplings to steam, I thought to myself, "Wow, the kids are healthy, Hubby and I are well, we are employed, we have a home, God is merciful." Then I thought, "What will likely be the next challenge in my life?"
Well, in about 3 weeks, I will find out about my board exam results. Argh.
See, instantaneously, my contentment, joy, and peace, sucked out of me.
Thankfully, there is Romans 8: 31-39 (in The Message version):
So, what do you think? With God on our side like this, how can we lose? If God didn't hesitate to put everything on the line for us, embracing our condition and exposing himself to the worst by sending his own Son, is there anything else he wouldn't gladly and freely do for us? And who would dare tangle with God by messing with one of God's chosen? Who would dare even to point a finger? The One who died for us—who was raised to life for us!—is in the presence of God at this very moment sticking up for us. Do you think anyone is going to be able to drive a wedge between us and Christ's love for us? There is no way! Not trouble, not hard times, not hatred, not hunger, not homelessness, not bullying threats, not backstabbing, not even the worst sins listed in Scripture:
They kill us in cold blood because they hate you.
We're sitting ducks; they pick us off one by one.
None of this fazes us because Jesus loves us. I'm absolutely convinced that nothing—nothing living or dead, angelic or demonic, today or tomorrow, high or low, thinkable or unthinkable—absolutely nothing can get between us and God's love because of the way that Jesus our Master has embraced us.
Wow. -
Zoe and Me
There doesn't seem to be enough time for me to be with Zoe. She spends much of her day sleeping, about 12 hours at night, and 2 more during the day. That leaves us about 10 hours with her- simply too little.
She has grown so much, eaten so many peaches and apples, and strawberries, and cherries... She loves her dollies dearly- so much so that when I tuck them in their own bed, she will hop on top of them, with a big grin. When life gets hard, she throws herself on the floor, without any care to what people think of her, until one of us, picks her up and helps her to calm down.
She has now been to her own Sunday School, twice, without us having to go back to fetch her due to incessant screaming.
She loves to read- and she will tell us which book she is interested in. Like a penguin, she waddles over to her shelf, picks something up, waddles back, plops herself in a lap, and demands for a reading, again, and again. She likes to rip open her Noah's ark, and throw all the animals everywhere.
She throws garbage away, carries her dirty diapers to the bin (don't worry, the diaper is wrapped up, sealed in a plastic baggie), flushes the toilet, mops the floor, and harvests our tomatoes.
If someone takes her doll away from her at school, she will tap on a teacher's arm, in great urgency, and point at the perpetrator, waiting for justice.
She scares easily, and will shiver and shake when the water hose/puffer train/dogs scare her.
I need to remember those sweet days, because not too far off, there will be a day when she will wail and scream, "Why are you so stubborn Mom! I just want to go to a movie with a new boyfriend, why do you want to talk to his parents first? You are driving me crazy!" -
Hubby and Me
Ever since Zoe came along, Hubby and I have found ourselves utilizing two tactics:
1. Divide and conquer.
2. One takes both so that the other can take a break, to cook, to blog, to check a growth chart to see how much one needs to saw off the legs of easles...
Either way, we are not together as much as we used to be. Therefore, we often joke on Friday evenings, that "I will see you Sunday evening."
However, since we switched our place of Worship, things have also gotten different. Partly because we now leave for church around the same time we leave for work (or rather, Hubby and the children leave the house around 8:15 to go to the park, and I swing by at 8:50 to get them, and we make it to church for the 9 o'clock service.) We also get home by 11, at the latest. We have somehow, acquired 2 whole hours. I no longer hop out of the car like a crazed woman, running into the house to be a short order cook and put lunch on the table within 5 minutes, and feed the children like they are in the military, and bed time immediately upon swallowing their last morsels. Life, at least, on Sundays, has slowed down a little bit.
It all adds up to this: We have more time to nap together.
Good times, good times. -
Aidan and Me
Interestingly, after I acknowledged that Aidan and I had hit a rough patch, my attitude changed, and so his attitude changed. We had a fantastic weekend, strangely, thankfully.
I took him to a special party on Saturday, it was really fun to see our friends, and their little 'elephant', known to be saying 'help' at a tender age of 3 months. Aidan behaved superbly well, even though he did run around the banquet hall after the meal, but it was a huge hall, and the waiters were done serving, and he had been sitting very still with me for over 2 hours. So I let him run around, like banshee. It was so fun for me! He was also an amazing gentleman, that when I said it was time to go, he waved bye to his new friends, and left with me without another word.
We took him to the Lego store, to buy his $5 droid transport thing (marked down from $10, but he didn't have money for it last time we were there, since he spent his entire life savings on his Darth Vader watch... so he patiently waited for an entire week for another installment of his allowance). Then we took him to another toy store where the entire store was 20% off. He didn't beg for more toys, didn't complain, and was again, very well behaved through dinner. During the car ride home, he finally said, "MOMMY! I AM SO TIRED! I WANT TO GO TO BED!!!" Music to my ears!
Funny how as he is growing, I am too.
Friday, July 11, 2008
Work, Doing Work, Talking about Work...
Hubby has been working a lot this week. Or rather, it feels like he has been working a lot recently. Poor guy. Even now, he is still working.He did take a break to sit with me, and while we were discussing what the children were up to, how Zoe unloaded the dish washer with me, how Aidan demanded to be filmed while he ate his red bean popsicle, we realized that we could hardly remember what Aidan was doing when he was 15 months old.
I turned to my trusty old entries here. I wrote much less back in those days, but there was a funny entry from October 7, 2005. I would have linked it, but couldn't. So, if you are that curious, go find it. Blogging used to be my primary way of keeping track how much Aidan got sick...
Today at my private practice, I did something that I wouldn't normally do. I was a good business woman. Shocking, I know. Like I said before, physicians usually are terrible business people. I had this new patient, and over the phone, I told her that our appointment will be an hour, and I told her how much I would charge. I said the appointment will be an hour, because I wanted to go swimming with A&Z. Well, the appointment went over, and since I didn't have anyone waiting for me (except for my little/poor/hungry/tired/hot children) I wanted to give her enough time to wrap things up. The appointment ended up lasting 1.5 hours. In my mind, I debated whether I should charge her for the extra 1/2 hour, or just let it go. Typically, if I go over time, I don't charge extra. Inevitably, I go over with one patient, and then I don't get a break to stay on time, and I would get super, super, thirsty by the end of my day. Not to mention all the paperwork. Anyway, I decided that I would try something new, like, actually charging people in full. So I did. And they didn't object. (Would people/you object?) Then she reached to write me a check, to find that she didn't bring her checkbook. Alas.
Sometimes, it feels like I am ripping people off, by charging them for my expertise, in any amount. I think I feel this way because at my salaried position, I never have to discuss payments, that is the way public psychiatry works, I suppose. However, like a peer once said, "sliding scale, sliding services." You get what you pay for. Sad, but true. Besides, my expertise was earned by paying $200,000 in tuition, with interest, it will eventually cost me close to $350,000. And that is all in post-tax dollars. In reality, I would have to earn $450,000 to pay off this debt. That is going to take a long time. Good grief, that is like our mortgage.
Anyway, I am curious, what do people think about this?
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Music for a While
WARNING! Offensive picture will follow if you scroll down.I miss making music. It has been ten years since my music 'career' ended- while I had visions of singing in med school, who was I kidding?! I thought I would take lessons again after finishing residency- but then I was pregnant, and completely out of breath. With my current jobs of 'mommy/physician/marketing director/chef/maid', there just isn't time.
Then I found someone in a similar predicament. My former supervisor, this amazing psychiatrist with a very established practice, had been playing the violin and looking for a pianist! We made plans to make music! Of course, getting our schedules synchronized was another matter completely. Nonetheless, we met today. I got to play on her gorgeous grand piano, and while we were both rusty (I didn't even practice, I sight read through it all...shame), it was great fun. It reminded me of a piece titled "Music for a While" by Henry Purcell.
Now, I just need to find myself an accompanist, a voice teacher, and off I go!
Meanwhile, I went to Aidan's class and taught the children about fungus. A few weeks ago, I was the 'guest expert' on parasites. Next time, I will talk about bacteria, then virus, and maybe prions. It is becoming more difficult to find objects to show the children what these germs look like. I suppose the teachers won't be amused if all the kids caught strep afterwards. But we will see. Aidan wanted me to talk about bombs. I doubt they will like that either.
Aidan also visited a dentist today, for the first time! He had x-rays done, his teeth counted, and polished. He was a good sport. BTW, his teeth are in excellent shape. I suppose this image taught him the virtues of dental hygiene.
Aren't you glad I warned you? I scare my kids into good healthy habits.
Even though we were super productive today, with the dentist visit and all, Aidan and I have hit a rough patch. Like they say, '6 good months, 6 bad months.' I think we are in the bad phase. It hasn't been ALL bad, but just hard. It is like a roller coaster, really good, then in an instant, really bad. Poor guy, just so many changes coming up for him, the transition to the next class, becoming more and more aware of his world...etc. I suppose this is just a foreshadow of adolescence.
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
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The BEST, the worst, the strangest...
The BEST thing I heard all day, came from Hubby: "2 hours is a long time to not yell."
I had an ambitious plan of picking up the children at 4, taking them swimming, making dinner somewhere in the midst of that, and still stick to a regular bedtime. The plan worked really well between 4 and 6:30 pm. Then I lost it, at the provocation of endless questions about Lego stuff, and the constant interruption from the-one-who-talks-a-lot, so much so that Hubby and I could not complete an entire sentence. I said very loudly, "Aidan! Please stop talking for a few minutes. Eat your food, so Daddy and I can talk."
After tucking Aidan in bed, Hubby reassured me, that it was good that I held it together for over 2 hours before losing it.
Although, tomorrow, I am going to remember what Hubby said, how much it made me laugh, and try to hold it together for 3 hours.
The WORST moment of my day was when a patient told me that it was ridiculous how expensive his medication was. I had switched him from a brand-name to a generic. His brand name med used to cost him $400, but the generic would cost $200, which he thought was still too much. (MediCare Part D plans often include this 'donut hole' where a person can be covered from $1 to a set amount, say $4000, then from $4000 to another set amount, say $6000, the patient would have to pay out of pocket, before the 'insurance' picked up again in one calendar year. Weird, I know.) Yet at the same time, medications can't come for free. Besides, I have NOTHING to do with how much it costs. Believe it or not, I don't actually make get rebates from Big Pharma. I didn't know what to say to him, to tell him to count his blessings, that at least his plan paid for some of it. Or rile him up and tell him to write his Congress person. Just felt really stuck, (which indicates his power of projective identification, because I am certain, he felt equally stuck.)
The STRANGEST moment was when I called a pharmacy and instead of just rattling off the prescriptions, the pharmacist asked me to spell out the medications. Z.Y.P.R.E.X.A. Then, D.E.P.A.K.O.T.E. I thought, hmm, are you REALLY a pharmacist? Seriously?! Then he asked me to spell my name, but proceeded to try to figure out how it would be spelled. Rally weird... -
A New Phase
Like I said in my prelude yesterday, this is a week of revelations. Here is another one.
After much deliberation and praying, Hubby and I have decided that we are switching churches. We have very much enjoyed, and learned so much, those years at Grace Pres. However, over the last year, we have felt that a new phase of our life is here, and our need for community/church has changed so much also, that at this time, we can better serve, and be served better, at a church closer to home. We have been visiting various churches since this spring, and finally made the decision in May. However, since Hubby has been really involved with Grace, the proper thing to do is to talk to the senior pastor, to resign from his ministry post, then, to let our friends know. Well, those things have been accomplished, and so, I am writing it here.
When we moved back to the Bay Area, it was a no brainer that we would attend Grace. We were so excited to start a community group, to be in fellowship, and so thrilled to find excellent teaching. However, over the years, the community up here along the peninsula just dwindled off slowly. We thought we would just wait until the kids are older and then, we can jump back into community. We thought about moving. I took a job down south briefly. Yet when I hear about other communities forming and growing, I am jealous. I want that! As Grace grows toward a new South Bay plant, I really want to be in a growing community, but it has been unachievable. (I don't know if it is truly unachievable, or is it resistance, or what.) We heard a sermon recently by Tim Keller and were convicted that we should be in community NOW, to live in the current situation that God has given us, not for what we hope to be, where we hope to be a few years down the road. So here we are. Switching churches. For now.
As for our new church, we are attending Central Peninsula Church. I actually know quite a few colleagues and friends who attend CPC. Due to my private practice, I also have met the staff there, making the transition easier. This month, we will be making the plunge to join a small group. I am excited about being a part of a community. Not in THE South, but right here, within walking distance.
Tuesday, July 08, 2008
It Is Like an Addiction...
I had placed a few books on hold at the library- to pay 75 cents to have someone pull the books for me totally worth it. Instead of dragging a curious preschooler around the shelves, looking for that specific book, or a wandering toddler, it is supremely easier to walk to the Hold Area and pick up my books. If only the library would deliver them to my house... Since the library was closed all weekend, (Can you believe it? The library CLOSED over such a long weekend?!) I was eagerly looking forward to picking up my goodies today, but I had 'forgotten' that Hubby had a church meeting. In true nerd-hood, after feeding and bathing the kids, I took Aidan with me to the library for about 1/2 an hour prior to Hubby leaving for his meeting. Aidan was equally excited to go find new books about battleships, pirates...etc. (He told one of his teachers at school, "The British Navy sank the Bismarck. The Nazis built the Bismarck. The Nazis were mean." The quote made it to their newsletter. I am raising a very interesting child.) After we exhausted the children's section on World War II, we went to the adult section to find more about the Bismarck.I have this burning desire to read about the Holocaust. It is like an addiction- I know I won't be able to sleep after reading these books, but I can't help it. I see one, I must read one. During the fourth year of med school, I read through all the Holocaust books at our Brooklyn Heights branch of the NYC Public Library. Let's just say, that it being in NYC, its Holocaust collection was large. I read it all, lost who-knows-how-many-hours-of-sleep. I just finished one this evening, a quick read written by Eva Schloss, whose mother married Anne Frank's father after the war. I am equally devastated each time of the horror, but also amazed by the resilience in the survivors.
I think, I am drawn to human suffering and survival. And this strange interest has led me to my profession.
This, and an ex-boyfriend. Remember my post about Facebook last week? Well, let's say that this will be a week of revelations!
It is interesting how I gained this insight. I was at my interview for psychiatry residency training at Albert Einstein, my very first interview, back in October of 2001. My interviewer was this gray haired psychoanalyst, who somehow, made me talk about my ex! For an entire hour. How did he manage that, was a testament to his clinical acumen. To get me to freely associate during an INTERVIEW, was an amazing skill, one I am trying to acquire daily. Alas, I digress. I dated this guy when I was a first-year. He was from Colorado, went to parochial school his entire life, brought up in a Christian home, and in essence, everything I thought about 'middle class America' as possible. He was very smart, tall, blond, handsome, and totally a bad influence. I stayed up way too late hanging out with him, missed too many early AM science classes, and for the 8 weeks between spring break and finals, let my academics go down the drain. We talked frequently that summer, and e mailed each other, but as summer went on, I was convinced that he wouldn't be the one I will marry, and I ought to not date him anymore. So, during the first week of my sophomore year, we broke up. For the next three years, we saw each other occasionally, I knew that he started to 'party' more, and at graduation, I met his father for the first time, when his father came up to me (he was no where in sight) and essentially wished that we had stayed friends. Totally weird encounter to have, in front of my family, and my HOT boyfriend at the time (don't worry, this boyfriend is now my Hubby!)
I knew he had stayed for another year to get his Master's degree in engineering, but didn't keep in touch. Then, after I had married Hubby, I heard from mutual friends that he had not finished his program, and was dismissed from school. He eventually went missing- that LAPD had looked for him, to no avail. Of course, I wondered what had happened. I wondered if he had been using drugs/depressed/psychotic/suicided, or what. I suppose I wondered, and still ponder, what would have happened if he had gotten help. Did he suicide? No one really knew. With my experience working at a Large University Student Mental Health program, I had worked with young college students who didn't know what they wanted, didn't know the effects of drugs, pushed limits, had their first psychotic break, and when I saw these students, I always thought I saw a little bit of him.
You thought this would be an uplifting blog entry. Nope. Maybe tomorrow...
Monday, July 07, 2008
Paring Down
I am getting rid of 9 pairs of shoes. My 'old lady' loafers, shoes that are now just a tad too long, too narrow, too brown, too dotty, too weird... (Have you read "Old Hat, New Hat" by Stan Berenstain? It is now Zoe's favorite, and it goes just like the above.)
Anyway, my new pair of shoes. I love the puzzle! Come to me, and I will help you put the puzzle of your life together. The other interpretation, is that this is one pair of phallic shoes! I much prefer the first option.
Sunday, July 06, 2008
Jam Packed
I feel like we had a jam packed weekend- the goal was to get in as many naps as possible, and of course, to share meals with friends. Other than that, we went to the mall (Aidan saved up for his very own Darth Vader Watch!) thrice (I went once on my own, once with Hubby on our date night, and once with Aidan and Zoe- in a way, really sad how frequently we went to the mall... but anyway.)During dinner with our dear friends, I found out that L only has about 10 pairs of shoes at any given time. I thought it would be BRILLIANT to narrow down my shoe collection, less space for shoes, more space for Hubby's camera equipment- I started this goal by adding on a new pair. I will definitely post a picture of it later, it is really well suited for my career. Really. As for paring down, I will make it happen tonight. So perhaps I won't get to wear all my shoes once this month. Truth be told though, some of those are not appropriate right now anyway, like pink slides, pink boots...
We did do one really fun thing- we went to the SF Zoo! Aidan and Zoe really liked it. I tolerated it- I am just not a zoo person.
I saw this from another blog. Makes me really miss NYC. I imagine Aidan would be much the same.
Hubby and I are steadily achieving our goal to go away for a night in August. In anticipation of celebrating me passing my boards (or mourning the loss of $2100), my birthday, and the fact that the children are still alive after all this time, I booked us a hotel in the far away city of SF. Over the weekend, our trusty sitter came by, and fed and bedded both kids on her own, and it was a success. The only thing left to do about the plan is to let Aidan know- we will tell him a few days prior, and so for all of you out there who will see him between now and August, DO NOT TELL HIM.
Well, I gotta go make tomorrow's dinner, pack up the bags for school/work, throw out some shoes...
Thursday, July 03, 2008
Data
Hubby reads some of my entries here, but not all, since, well, he lives with me. And has seen my shoes and eats with me.
Therefore, very funny that he wrote about RAW and JPEGlast night.
One of the fringe benefits of having a Hubby who knows this stuff, (and because I can't bring myself to fully understand it, because I am sure I could if I set my mind to it,) is that when I am tired, but can't fall asleep, I nudge Hubby in bed and say, "Tell me about data backup." I am usually out within minutes.
Now, this is probably going to be a minority opinion, and don't worry, no spoilers. Hubby and I thought that Wall-E, as well made as it is, and as innovative as the idea is, is a rather sad movie. The whole premises is sad. For a movie geared for kids, it is just much too sad.
We are tired of movies that have a social message. Like Happy Feet. Seriously, we go to a movie with our preschooler for FUN, not to get a lesson. While Aidan doesn't really consciously catch the lesson, (a lesson that we think is for the middle class...) we do, and it sort of ruins the simple fun. The whole idea that we are ruining the earth, is true. We buy way too much stuff and throw way too much away. We all ought to be more green. Sure. However, ironically, to be green has become a class symbol. It is a wealthy who are building green houses- because, the poor can never afford it. Also, the poor already live in small spaces, therefore, they use less heating, they probably don't have money to water the lawn, and guess what? They don't have money to buy all that stuff and contribute less to the landfill. They also probably have to take public transit. And the poor, probably can't afford to go watch this movie either. Oh whatever.
Of course, Aidan had a lot of questions during the movie for a few reasons.
1. He is a preschooler- just trying to figure the world out.
2. The movie has very little dialogue, mostly implied stuff. Since the guy has only been alive for less than 1500 days, he doesn't get some of the implied stuff.
While Aidan asked us questions, we of course, encouraged him to ask them quietly and to wait to see what will happen. By no means were we having a full on conversation. A teenage girl SHUSHED Aidan. Very loudly. And her mother, who sat between Aidan and her (with another seat in between) did NOTHING. For crying out loud,
1. This is a movie for little KIDS!
2. There is no dialogue to be missed!
3. You're a kid yourself, cut my kid some slack.
I could understand the frustration if there was much dialogue and much talking, and very sophisticated plot, but HEY! This wasn't that kind of movie!
I was severely annoyed. If Aidan and Zoe ever did this to other children, I would interfere, apologize, and make Aidan/Zoe not shoot over dirty looks for the rest of the movie! I think Hubby was proud that I didn't go over there and set them straight.
Therefore, very funny that he wrote about RAW and JPEGlast night.
One of the fringe benefits of having a Hubby who knows this stuff, (and because I can't bring myself to fully understand it, because I am sure I could if I set my mind to it,) is that when I am tired, but can't fall asleep, I nudge Hubby in bed and say, "Tell me about data backup." I am usually out within minutes.
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
A Clandestine Date
We took Aidan to see Wall-E last night. It was quite a production: we got grandpa to come over to baby sit Zoe, to be sure Zoe is tucked in by 6:30, that Aidan is in his pj's too, that dinner is put away, and to have purchased the tickets (with the discount vouchers I purchased at Costco the day before) ahead of time (we did NOT want to get there and have no tickets...) Phew!Now, this is probably going to be a minority opinion, and don't worry, no spoilers. Hubby and I thought that Wall-E, as well made as it is, and as innovative as the idea is, is a rather sad movie. The whole premises is sad. For a movie geared for kids, it is just much too sad.
We are tired of movies that have a social message. Like Happy Feet. Seriously, we go to a movie with our preschooler for FUN, not to get a lesson. While Aidan doesn't really consciously catch the lesson, (a lesson that we think is for the middle class...) we do, and it sort of ruins the simple fun. The whole idea that we are ruining the earth, is true. We buy way too much stuff and throw way too much away. We all ought to be more green. Sure. However, ironically, to be green has become a class symbol. It is a wealthy who are building green houses- because, the poor can never afford it. Also, the poor already live in small spaces, therefore, they use less heating, they probably don't have money to water the lawn, and guess what? They don't have money to buy all that stuff and contribute less to the landfill. They also probably have to take public transit. And the poor, probably can't afford to go watch this movie either. Oh whatever.
Of course, Aidan had a lot of questions during the movie for a few reasons.
1. He is a preschooler- just trying to figure the world out.
2. The movie has very little dialogue, mostly implied stuff. Since the guy has only been alive for less than 1500 days, he doesn't get some of the implied stuff.
While Aidan asked us questions, we of course, encouraged him to ask them quietly and to wait to see what will happen. By no means were we having a full on conversation. A teenage girl SHUSHED Aidan. Very loudly. And her mother, who sat between Aidan and her (with another seat in between) did NOTHING. For crying out loud,
1. This is a movie for little KIDS!
2. There is no dialogue to be missed!
3. You're a kid yourself, cut my kid some slack.
I could understand the frustration if there was much dialogue and much talking, and very sophisticated plot, but HEY! This wasn't that kind of movie!
I was severely annoyed. If Aidan and Zoe ever did this to other children, I would interfere, apologize, and make Aidan/Zoe not shoot over dirty looks for the rest of the movie! I think Hubby was proud that I didn't go over there and set them straight.
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