Thursday, December 20, 2012

Anyone Ever Wake Up Like This Before?



{I wrote this post last Friday morning before the news of the Newtown tragedy broke. I refrained from posting it after hearing of the violence. While I still feel profound sadness over the deaths at a school, I am trying to get back to a new "normal", which includes laughing at myself. I encourage you to laugh at me and with me.}



How are you woken up in the morning?

Alarm?
Child crying?
Child jumping in bed with you?
Husband's alarm?
Husband's pager? {grumble, grumble}
Husband heading to the bathroom?
Your bladder wake you?
The dog licking your face?
The dog licking his balls?
Cat sit on your head?
Perhaps even an amorous husband?
Or maybe you were pulling the sheet up to your neck and your fists slips and you inadvertently clock yourself in your jaw?

Well, I have a new one to add to my list...

Roll over onto your back only to find the remote has made its way to a new resting space...
firmly in your ass.

So, I unwedged the remote and handed it to Doc H, told him where I found it, and asked him to turn on the news.

He didn't find that as funny as I did.






Monday, December 17, 2012

Death Hit Us

This weekend was marred with death.

Beginning Friday morning, death hit us in unfathomable numbers and ages.

For us, it continued throughout the weekend. Every beep of the pager, sent Doc H charging into the hospital only to return home each time with the same morbid news-- The situation was not salvageable.

Sunday night, Doc H turned to me and said, "I couldn't save one this weekend."

No. Not this weekend.

Many could not be saved this weekend.




Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Those Words Will Carry Me

Like I said yesterday, the Surgery Department Holiday Party started off with a bit of a hiccup, but we managed to turn Doc H's error to our own advantage.

Once the party was finally well under way, meaning drinks had been served, everyone had enjoyed their dinner, the gift exchange was complete, and the coffee served, Doc H left our table to do his duty.

Just as he does every year, he stood with mic in hand and delivered a thank you speech to all the Surgery Department staff and their plus ones. Everyone from the MA's and schedulers to the PA's are mentioned and thanked for their hard work and dedication to providing excellence in patient care. Then, he usually tacks on a quick thanks to the all doctor's spouses for their support and finishes with a big thank you to the party planning committee.

But, this year Doc H deviated from his usual speech and it meant the WORLD to me. While thanking the spouses and family, he took some extra time to especially thank ME for supporting his demanding job.  He said without my support he could not do the work he does. He mentioned how much he appreciates the work I do at home to hold down the fort and take care of the kids. In front of his entire department, he thanked ME.

I was so moved, I had break eye contact with him and look at the floor. I thought I was going to bust out my ugly cry.



It is that little moment I will carry around in my heart to erase every grudge I have against his chosen career.

THAT was the BEST part of this year's Surgery Department Holiday Party.


Blog-working Wednesday!











Tuesday, December 11, 2012

The Surgery Department Holiday Party

'Tis the Season, folks, and it kicked off for us this past weekend in the form of the Surgery Department Christmas Party.


Woo Hoo.

Same party, same people, same games, every single year. The party is so repetitive, I decided to pull a "Kate Middleton", and recycled the same outfit I wore to this shindig in 2007.  I just wasn't excited enough about the event to shell out a few hundred dollars for a new doctor's wife costume.

Lucky for Doc H, I have a sense of humor about these types of things.

I busted my butt to make sure we were on time. I skipped out on L2's cheerleading competition to make sure we had our White Elephant gifts. I shaved, bronzed, painted, primped and shellacked myself into a completely imaginary (read: delusional) version of Jennifer Lopez. This delusion works for me. Just go with it, won't you?

We arrived at our destination twenty minutes late. As we walked toward the banquet room, I spotted a gentleman manning the door who looked like he could just as well be hosting a holiday party for the Hell's Angels. My gut just about popped through my two pairs of spanx. I figured we must be at the wrong restaurant.

I knew this wasn't good as I stood back and watched my divinely dressed, handsome man question the weathered maverick sporting the grey handlebar mustache.

Mmm..humm...

Right restaurant. Right banquet hall.

Just two hours early.

That's two extra hours in my spanx. Two extra hours in my shoes that were only meant to be worn sitting down. In two hours, my hair would deflate.

With a a comical glare, raise of my eyebrows, roll of the eyes, quick flip of the wrist, I mumbled out..


and began laughing at my husband.

Upon realizing his mistake, Doc H tried to play it off as no big deal. I reminded him we could've been home watching the end of the football game, or he could've taken a nap to make up for his continual lack of sleep, and more importantly, we told the kids we would be home for dinner. Now I had to call them to see if they could scrape together twenty bucks and call for pizza delivery.

In an attempt to make his bad better, the poor man resorted to what he only could to remedy such a situation.

"Let's go find a bar!"

So, we did. And there, dressed in our inadvertently matching black and red, dressy outfits, we drank our margaritas and caught up on all the past week had to offer. We shared the shannanigan's of our kids, his colleagues, a little business here and there, remembered past Christmas parties we had attended, and even laughed at our exes a bit.

I cherish that window of time we had together. It was almost the best part of the Surgery Department Christmas Party.

Come back tomorrow and I'll share the BEST part of the party...





Seriously Shawn

Monday, December 10, 2012

Life as Your Doctor's Wife: {Calling Doc H}

As noted, last week I found myself a tad grumpy. I was feeling lonely and annoyed at Doc H's work schedule. Yes, even I get a bout of hospital hatred every now and then.

Just as I was blogging out my grumpiness and venting my frustrations by banging them out on my keyboard, my cell phone dings signaling a voice mail. Thanks to caller ID, I noticed it was a long lost best friend from yesteryear.


Here's our background:
  • Best friends through elementary and junior high.
  • Always competitive with one another. 
  • Remained great friends through high school, but not as close. We branched out with other friends.
  • Stayed pretty close up until the last 5 years. 
  • Despite my calls to her, she never called me, but has sent me random invitations to big events in their lives. Since she lives over two hours away, I haven't been able to attend. 
  • Haven't seen her in over 4 years.
  • Haven't spoken or emailed in over 2 years.

Being in a grumpy state, I immediately wondered what she wanted.

I began to listen to her cheery voicemail, "Hey, there! It's Crissy! It has been way too long since we've chatted and I wanted to catch up with you!"

Awwww..........

I immediately began to get the warm fuzzies, feeling guilty about thinking she wanted anything more from me other than to re-connect. She was my lifelong friend who always wanted to be there for me. She was the same sweet girl she always was... I luv her. Her voicemail and her desire to reconnect with me was pulling me up from the bowels of grumpiness!

I felt the warmth of happiness embracing my cold heart! Mmmmmm.... feels good! Feels VERY good!

She continued on, "...however, there is a specific purpose for my call (insert sarcastic "Surprise!" here). Max (her husband) hasn't been feeling well and is going in for biopsy and I just thought I should call you, so you could pass this information on to Doc H. I would love to have him take a look at it and have him refer some doctors to us. I am just trying to get the best medical care I can for my husband (as if I forgot how Max is related to her) and utilizing all the resources we have. Our consult is tomorrow, so I'd love to hear from you today or tomorrow morning."

How does one explain sinking lower that the bowels of grumpiness?? I sunk even further. Perhaps I passed through the crap filled bowels and was now found myself simply grasping, hanging on to the last hemorrhoid of despair before just plunging into the waste waters below.

She was not truly calling for me. She was calling for Doc H.

It truly was a sh@tty day.



Sunday, December 9, 2012

Play It Again, Sundays {A Wife's Lesson Learned- The Hard Way}

Originally published on May 11, 2012

Lessons Learned:
Source
  • Never trust your husband's memory (no matter how smart he truly is) when it comes to itineraries. You may find yourself circling the airport terminal waiting for your in-laws to get through baggage claim... a whole 24 hours in advance of their actual arrival.
  • Upon arriving at your destination, never walk away from the car until you are completely certain your husband (and driver) has locked the car... and turned of the engine.

{...to my Doc Husband, if you're reading this, I understand these things happen because your mind is at the hospital with your patients. I'm so happy I have a sense of humor about these types of things. Aren't you?...}





Friday, December 7, 2012

The Doctor's Wife is Grumpy

It's begun to take its toll on me people.

It is now Thursday. I haven't seen Doc H since Sunday.

On Monday, he flew somewhere. I'm still not sure where. I just know the trip did not meet my requirements for companion travel. I thought it was Chicago, but I was mistaken. I'm thinking Charlotte, maybe Charleston, or Columbus. Those all sound somewhat familiar. He's been traveling so much lately, I can no longer keep track of the destinations.

He had one dinner meeting on Monday evening to prep for the one hour meeting Tuesday morning. It took him all Tuesday afternoon to fly home.

When he finally made it through our front doors, I was already sawing logs. However, I pity his hours and appreciate his efforts which support our entire family, so I got my ass out of bed to say hello and make him an organic, non r-BGH grilled cheese sandwich. We barely spoke. We were both too tired.

Yesterday, he left for the hospital at some un-godly hour for three cases. He called me around 9am. I knew before I answered the phone something had gone awry. He either forgot something, his case had to be delayed due to improper blood levels (or whatever), because he usually never calls on his days in the OR. He is just too busy.

My premonition was correct. After leaning over a patient on the table, he tried to straighten up and threw out his back... AGAIN. The radiologist raced to get him a heating patch and a nurse went on a hunt for ibuprofin. He called in pain and miserable, but determined to finish out all his cases. He did and, again, came home well after I had gone to bed.

For the second night in a row, I pulled my tired ass out of bed and warmed up a piece of homemade, organic, vegetarian lasagne I made for him, under the misguided hope we would be able to share a meal together. In my robe, I sleepily scooped a piece of lasagne out of the pan, slopped it on the plate, and threw it in the microwave. The man deserves a hot meal, at the very least.

As I waited for the microwave to ding, I watched Doc H hobble around the house with a bad back. He resembled the shape of a question mark.

I felt so bad for him.

And it made me grumpy. I am grumpy.

I am grumpy, because my husband works so hard to better the health of his patients. He works so hard in an effort to promote cutting edge medical technologies which will benefit patients. Yet, when it comes to his own health, he will work himself to the ground.

We had a four sentence phone call this afternoon.

I am certain Doc H will be coming home grumpy.

And that's okay.

'Cause, I'm grumpy, too.



Thursday, December 6, 2012

If You Don't Enjoy Medicine, Do Not Go To Med School

Just sharing a thought...

If you don't enjoy medicine,
Do not go to med school.

If you do not enjoy med school,
Do not become a surgeon.









You will be grouchy.
You will push cases onto your colleagues.
You won't carry your fair share of the work load
and it WILL be noticed
and it WILL be resented.

Find something you love.

If you don't love medicine,
DO NOT become a doctor.



Wednesday, December 5, 2012

Gifting Your Doctor

Around this time of year I always find myself perplexed at the amount of gifts Doc H receives from his patients.

I have been under the knife several times and yet, I'm embarrassed to admit, I never sent any one of my surgeons a thank you gift. I mean, that's their job, right? They are paid handsomely to cut their patients open and leave them with a scar. And, I most certainly never considered giving any of my doctors a Christmas gift.

While a fair number of Doc H's patients are no longer are under his service after their follow-up, he maintains a larger number of patients who are continually coming back to him for recurring problems or "tune-ups" as I like to call them. These are the patients who bear holiday gifts.

The gifts are varying in nature. We have received everything from homegrown fruits and veggies, homemade dinners, homemade baked goods, fine table linens from overseas, #2 pencils for the kids, handcrafted jar openers, smoked salmon, homemade sausages, dress shirts, and ties.


Additionally, we get tons of...
wine
and...
champagne.

But, the ultimate kicker is...

cognac!

He receives bottles and bottles of hard core cognac! It is the gift that baffles me the most. These patients must think Doc H is a lush.

So here's the more important question: Who would allow themselves to be sliced open by a lush?

Honestly? I don't get it.

But, I sure do appreciate it!


{Now, do I go on and post about the time we drank said cognac and got so lit, Doc H started bench pressing me on our living room floor? Now, those were the days...}

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Over-qualified and Over-supported

Over-qualified. 

The word has a stinging power to it. I knew it was true.

The job interview was for a lesser position, but a part-time position. These days, part-time work is very doable in my current situation and I'll admit, being back in an office setting sounded appealing to me.

Yet, despite a clearly and concisely worded email outlining my part-time availability, I was called in for an interview.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't excited. I was! I woke up at 5am to have plenty of time to transform from yoga pants, shelf bras, stubbly legs, ponytails, and college sweatshirts to arched eyebrows, manicured nails, eyeshadow, hairspray, underwire and my most professional looking, designer shoes.

I was ready, prepared, and, if I'm allowed to say so myself, I was looking good. I was looking professional.

Apparently, I looked too professional.

Okay, yes, I was over-qualified for the job.

Within the first ten minutes of the interview, my gut was screaming "NNNNNOOOOOOOO!"

The position wasn't a good fit for me on several levels. Thirty-six hours a week, may as well be full-time. I was not available Monday through Friday.  I could not work evenings if needed, and, yes, I do like to take vacations every now and then.

52 weeks a year? 36 hours a week? Sorry. Not for me.

Then the unexpected. Not only was I overqualified, I was over-supported.

Over-supported.

Excuse me?

They tip-toed around the subject, but let me boil it down for you and paraphrase:
Your husband is a surgeon. He makes lots of dough. We need someone in this position who needs to work as many hours as possible. We don't want someone who is likely to take a vacation. You have enough with just his income. 
At first I was sad. I had envisioned making the call to turn down the job. I wasn't prepared for their call citing over-qualified and over-supported as problematic and me unfit for the job.

I felt spanked. I felt defeated. That was the emotional me.

The realistic me... no matter what they said, I knew I would not be working that position.

It definitely was not the "win-win" situation I was hoping it to be.



Monday, December 3, 2012

Medical Monday! {December Edition}


It's the FIRST Monday of the Month 
and you know what that means?

It's Medical Monday!
{listen to the roaring applause!}




Medical Monday is an opportunity for any and all medical/med life blogs to link up and meet others. So join us!

Are you confused if you qualify for the party?

Do you work in healthcare?
Doctor? Nurse? EMT? Chiropractor? Vet? Dentist? Therapist?
MA? NA? PA? DA?
Are you the spouse or SO of a healthcare worker/student?
Are you a nursing student? Medical student?
Intern? Resident? Fellow?

You get the picture, right? 

LINK UP YOUR POST!

Our once a month bloghop for bloggers like yourself, where we can build a community of support and friendship, learn from one another and share our stories.


Here are the rules:

  1. Follow your co-hosts via GFC.
  2. Link up you medical/med life blog. If your blog name does not clearly state how you fit in to the med/med life world, please write a little intro or link up a specific post which clearly demonstrates your connection.
  3. Visit at least 3 other link ups, comment, introduce yourself, and tell the your stopping by or following from MM!
  4. Help spread the word by using our button on your post or sidebar, tweet about Medical Monday, or spread the word on Facebook! The more the merrier for all of us!
And here's a helpful tip. . .

If you haven't turned of word verification, it's ON. Please turn it off. We'll all LOVE you!!
Not sure how? Click here for instructions.

Complete step one by following your co-hosts:


Want to be awesome?
Post our button on you post or sidebar and help spread the word:



Want to co-host next month? Shoot Emma an email at yourdoctorswife@gmail.com.

Now, link up below and have fun! The link up is open through Friday, so be sure to come back during the week to check some great reads!

Saturday, December 1, 2012

Medical Monday Link Up This Monday!


It's Coming!
Monday, December 3rd




Come hang out with on the grid.
We want to hear those crazy hospital stories,
hear your stress over training
(maybe someone will be able to help).
Tell us about the worst pager interruption you've ever experienced,
the most interesting medical fact you learned this month,
any new studies or information,
or anything else you'd like to share!

We love it all!

See you Monday...
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