Tam

The Moment

2011-10-08T19:03:00.000-07:00

It is rumored to be the last warm weekend of the year, and there was only one sensible thing to do, despite this being my prelim-prep month. The four of us trouble-makin' Tamayo's went to the beach!

One thing that I love about the beaches in Chicago is how urban they are. We usually go to Ohio Street Beach, which is right next to downtown, with towering glass edifices sticking their chests directly out to the wide open lake. As the sun moves across the west side of the sky, their shadows pierce eastward and sweep toward the beach (the beach in this location is north-facing).

After we had been in the shadow of one of these beasts for a chilly 30 minutes, I noticed the tops of just a couple of waves were glowing. I was holding Tula all wrapped up in a towel, when I told Bubs that the sun must have been reflecting off of a building in just the right way to do this. I kept watching until it became a fine trace of sunlight. It widened- only slightly- as it swept closer to the shore, where Torin was still kicking the waves as they broke.

I saw it coming, tucked Tula into her chair and hustled with my camera to catch these:

It wasn't a reflection at all, but the sun itself slipping through a sliver between two buildings. Just for a moment, he was in it...

... and just like that, it had passed.

Without any sadness or longing and not even relief, a new moment began. And then another, and another.

...

I'm back!

2011-09-13T21:51:00.000-07:00

Wow. It's been one hell of a year!

I did end up learning a lot from my former PI but not at all what I expected to learn. She was mean! So mean. And I wanted to please her, interpreting her meanness as challenge, something that I love to rise to. She was inconsistent- one day reminding me to tell her when I needed a break (for kids, she said) and I would ask her for time for finals, but she would refuse. I got there early. I went home, nursed my infant, and went out to work again. I would provide data and she would shoot it down, without even looking at it. I would return home dazed, unable to interact with my children, lost in reviewing my data in my head, and obsessed with how she could find fault in it. My 'friends', students themselves, were not supportive, deciding that if they were in my place, they could deal with it. Finally, my PI stopped talking to other professors in the same section, and then some of her own staff--staff that I respect--stopped interacting with her. I finally understood that my 'friends' were wrong- she really was a uniquely vile as I thought, and I left.

I spent over a year in her lab. I had my daughter while I was there. I took less than two weeks off for maternity leave, because I wanted to work on a project that I believed in. Even as she begged me not to leave, I knew that I would have to sacrifice even more if I stayed, and I knew I could be just as productive, but in a better environment.

Just as I became a fragmented person, I learned so much about myself- both about who I was a bot over a year ago and about who I am still in the process of recreating. I learned about the world of competitive research. I learned about my beliefs and my hopes.

"What's all this "fragmented person" business?", you might be asking! I think if a person has been shattered- questioning everything about their existence- then that person knows what I mean. I've been trying to explain it to myself for a year, and it's only starting to make sense! Some versions of my explanations involve that I was trying to do too much, with too much pressure from too many people, but that's not it. Other versions involve that, due in part to my lack of experience, I failed to identify my former PI as a bad mentor. The same result is due to my lack of belief that a person would be intentionally hostile to someone they've invested in. I could write about women who bully women. I could write about mental health issues in research. I will, at some time, write about both.

Right now, though, I want to share what I think I would like to have read then. There's usually not one thing that makes a person depressed, and there's almost never one thing that makes them better. Eating good food, exercising, taking antidepressants, meditating, and going to talk therapy are all part of the package, but each one is a ritual that symbolizes your dedication to taking good care of yourself, loving yourself, honoring yourself, and being respectful of your whole self.

Mr. Torin and Tula-Roo have grown so much since I've posted last! I've engaged in my new research. My Dearest Chris left his jobs in SF so he can be here full time. (Looking for a job in Chicago in this economy in a city where we don't know anyone is seriously challenging.)

Meanwhile, we still get to be together, and do fun things for FREE in Chicago. I still get to study what I love to study, and be with three of the most fun people I've ever met!

I will most certainly reference my last year of hell, but I hereby dedicate this blog to living a good life while parenting, studying, looking for work and finding beauty and adventure where we can! Cheers to adventure!

The Marathon Runner

2009-08-25T07:10:00.000-07:00

My PI is a marathon runner. I've often said that I would never run a marathon because it's so bad for so many parts of one's body, and that half marathons are better, and the fun would be about improving your time. The picture is not my PI- it is Joan Benoit, one of the greatest marathoners of all time.

I said "I love the part at the very beginning when you can hear everyone's shoes against the pavement. It's so exciting and it pushes me along."

"Oh, I hate that part- it makes me nervous and I lose my pace by starting too fast."

I can learn from this woman. Not that enjoying the excitement is bad, or that I shouldn't enjoy every part of a race (read "life"), but that I should be watchful of the things that might make me lose my pace. I should find a comfortable- even invigorating pace and defend it vigilantly.

Torin and Tula

2009-08-18T15:52:00.001-07:00

My Daughter!

When Tula came home for the first time, Torin was taking a nap. When he woke up, we went to the crib to introduce her to him. Torin didn't want to acknowledge Tula at all--he turned his back immediately after he laid eyes on her. We tried to take a picture of them both on my lap, but when Tula was given to me, he pushed us away and climbed onto his Daddy right away. He's always grumpy after a nap, so I wasn't surprised... until he saw her getting a bottle!

He opened his mouth in a silent scream, with his hands as claws in front of him. He slowly melted to the floor, with tears sprinkling from his eyes- coming so fast they bounced from his eyes instead of rolling down his cheeks. He frunped to the ground and only then did he look at us with greater disappointment any adult would bother to feel about me. He felt betrayed.

But! After a meal he was a different boy. Suddenly, he couldn't stop touching her cheek with his index finger. He wanted to touch her all the time. Lucky for us all, he's gentle. He kept repeating "Baby girl! Baby girl!" "Baby Sister!" "Tula!"

Getting some lovin', whether she likes it or not!
True DiStéfano fashion!

He started daycare again on Monday, and the teachers told me that he kept on telling them all about Baby Girl. He felt proud of her, and proud of himself for being a big brother.

I'm proud of him too!

Pictures!

2009-08-09T09:52:00.001-07:00

Two long blogs and no pictures! Has my sister taught me nothing?

This is Torin in Tehama helping Lola with her garden. We spent a while up there, as it provided peace, quiet and daycare so I could study for boards.

This is Cowboy Torin wearing his "Woo-ee" (Woody, ala Toy Story) hat after a hard day on the ranch. He was wearing it outside, mostly, and not inside, mostly, I swear.

And two more from Tehama. These pictures are making me want to go spend some time there! Torin absolutely loves being outside and walking around the fruit trees and helping with the garden. And I love the early mornings with the crisp air and huge birds (eagles!) flying overhead. The evenings are amazing too- with sunsets ablaze and from their house, the views go on and on.

One day, maybe one of my children with get married there. Right now, it's just weedy and the grass grows tall. We'll put grapes in terraces, and the trees will start to provide enough shade to grow more plants underneath. With the love and the care of my mother and father in law, it will turn into a lush garden with many places to sit and just be, or make art and write letters-even books. It will be like the family's own private Sundance resort, Buddhist retreat, and luxury spa, all at the same time. I'm glad my in-laws had the vision to make this investment when they did. I'm swelling with gratitude for them right now. The place is absolutely magical!

Next time I go, I'll have a daughter in tow. She'll meet a place that she can really connect to and that will be a constant for her whole life. I can only imagine that that would be important for her.

Waiting and waiting

2009-08-09T09:20:00.000-07:00

I'm 41 weeks pregnant today. I have a scheduled induction tomorrow morning. When I made that appointment, I was pretty sure that I wouldn't go that late, as I wanted to start things naturally- just to know what it was like. (Torin was induced because I had gestational diabetes.) A week ago, I was really preparing for labor. I was resting a lot because I didn't want to go into labor tired. I was timing even the smallest contraction. Now, I've set the date out so far that I forget that I'm still pregnant- until I want to, say, get up or something.

I'm not the only one who feels that way either! Last week, Bubs was arranging elaborate schedules to ensure that I was never alone. Now I'm all alone (and enjoying it, actually- last time in a while, I suppose) while he's out at the park with Torin on his last day of being our only child.

Wishful thinking has pulled me into the ob triage room more than once. Both times, I called first and the nurses reluctantly but clearly told me that it was okay to come in.

The first time, I passed green mucus ball. My ob had stripped my membranes a couple of days earlier. I was shocked by how green it was. It was not greenish yellow, it was like avocado green--but toward the peel, not the seed. (That's pretty green!) Dr. Google said that it could be an infection, but uterine infections are very serious.

The nurse said it could be meconium, but I really doubted that because my water hadn't broken. Plus, it was rubbery, not dark and tarry. They looked at my amiotic fliud index- nope, not leaking at all.

They performed a speculum exam to look for anymore green rubbery mucus. The doc said "well this is sort of green" refering to something that was not green at all- beige with a little gray at best. The did a non stress test. She was perfectly healthy, not distressed at all. They took my urine- no infection. Despite this mystery, they callously sent me home. In truth, I just wanted to be in labor. Why couldn't they just help me along a little! I'm pretty sure they didn't believe me. (Medical school has not cured me of this sort of pouting.)

My sister found the best explanation for the color. One website suggested was that it was old blood- and it was like the color of a deep green bruise, so that's the story that I'm sticking to. However, if anyone else experiences this, take a picture!

The second time I went to ob triage hoping for labor, I was having contractions that were 4-5 minutes apart but not so strong that I had to vocalize- breathing through them was fine. It was this way for hours, so I called to come in, and after checking my cervix and doing a non stress test, they sent me home again. My reason for pouting this time was that my cervix didn't change until after I got the epidural last time (then it went from 2-10 in 15 miniutes). But really, those contractions, though regular, were not the gripping ones that take your smile away. They've continued but haven't gotten stronger since then.

Now I don't even mention my contractions unless I'm asked to get up in the middle of one. I'm resigned to this waiting, and resigned to not knowing what it feels like to go into labor naturally. I'm a bit sad about it, but after learning that my mom was 19, 3, 9, and 12 days late with her four children, I'll be glad to accept the induction and finally meet my little girl.

Some Purpose

2009-08-08T11:17:00.000-07:00

Frankly, this blog is a little embarrassing. It's self-indulgent and pure stream-of-consciousness. When I was having a hard time as a mother, medical student, and being separated from my family, I looked for blogs that would provide insight. I didn't find anything. Other mother/medical students didn't have time to blog (maybe I should have learned from that!) and the few that did had completely different issues. I looked for mothers who were separated from their families, and I resonated emotionally with them, I didn't gain insight into my situation. I started this blog because I wanted to be there for myself- or, obviously, someone like myself--or maybe to keep looking for insight that would help me through the most challenging times.

The most challenging times were NOT the times that I was incredibly busy, like, right before a test. It was when I wasn't busy and Torin and Bubs were not here to enjoy. Finding circumstantial solutions to emotional problems took a long time. I did learn, but as I'm having another baby (tomorrow) I need to reinforce what I learned, so here I go.

Lesson Learned #1) The importance of routine.
School is fast-paced. Child-raising is slow-paced. The only way to do both is to be able to prepare for both. School (fast!) during the day and child (s l o w) in the evening. By limiting time at school, I set higher, faster expectations. I enjoy this time very much, and even more when I feel "on it" like I'm doing everything I can to set myself up for success. Then I can feel happy and proud and present for my child.

The other advantage of routine is that it sets up expectations that I'll see my child again, and he'll see me again. It builds trust/eliminates insecurity and expands horizons.

Lesson Learned #2) Good childcare is a Godsend.
I have a pretty traditional husband along these lines, and I myself was raised at home until kindergarten, so the thought of leaving my little baby with strangers, who might not even remember my precious package years down the road felt a lot like a double loss; it felt like paying to not keep those priceless memories!
Since we don't have a car, I needed a daycare that was close by and that Torin would love. Luckily, the closest one to us is also the best one I've found. The only downside is expense, but I am glad to pay so that Torin's teachers can have healthcare, etc. There are a lot of subsidized programs out there too, but they either don't take kids as young, they don't offer the schedule or flexibility, or they are far away.
I need to add here: As all things that are Godsends, don't try to get it for less than it's worth. It's a terrible thing when dogwalkers make more money than the people that love and nurture your children. Find a way for child care to really work for the people caring for your children!
Another day, I'll write about the invaluable things that good daycares are designed to provide.

Lesson Learned (but really already known) #3) Keep perspective
I love going to grab a beer with my friends. But even more that that, I love feeling that my life is going somewhere, that I'm in control, and that I'm excited and I know I'm prepared for the challenges that I signed up for. Feeling this way and having a routine makes me better at every part of my routine. When I know what I'm gaining it doens't seem like a sacrifice at all.

I'll stop there but add to it later, as I learn more. These are concrete things that I learned in the last two years. It's been a steep learning curve.

My Lovelies

2009-04-15T12:24:00.000-07:00

I'll let the pic speak for itself...

Separation and family stress

2009-04-05T05:20:00.001-07:00

Three more days until my boys leave and I weep while looking at this picture. My brother Steve just left his family for six months. This isn't him, though. I found it on line while searching for ways that families cope with separation.
I can't imagine what it would be like to be away for that long. I only leave my boys for a couple of weeks, at a time. There's no time to create a routine that I enjoy, which is actually both bad and good.
I become paranoid. I begin to think about all the what-ifs: "What if Torin becomes sick and I'm not there to take him to the hospital right away?" "What if there's an earthquake in California- how would I get a hold of them?" "What if something happens to them on the way to the airport? I'll never see them again." "What if there's a problem with the plane, would they notice in time?" What if I just don't hear from them- they are just missing. I couldn't go on with my life." "What if the last time I saw his will be the last time I ever see him?" Security issues become disproportionately important. Being safe is what I do to assure myself that I will see them again. So I can do anything at all. I don't feel like talking on the telephone much. I just want to be held in suspended animation until they return. I'm great about studying for the first week or ten days after they leave, but then I fall into a TV-watching depression.
I'd be drinking a lot if I weren't sharing blood with my next new best friend... who will also break my heart every time she leaves. Now's my time to take her everywhere I go. She's allowed to be with me during tests, in the lab, in meetings...
Torin holds me closer than ever these days. He sees my belly grow and he knows something is changing. Or, he knows that he's been in Chicago about the amount of time it takes for him to be taken back to SF. I have my final med school finals all next week and when Bubs takes him to the playground he cries and cries, wrapping his arm around my arm, and Bubs picks him up and takes him away. I don't cry until after they leave. Two year olds have a way of crying that makes it seem like their world is crumbling. He convinces me that he needs me more than ever. Really, I'm convinced that I need him more than anything.
Sacrificing the hugs and talks and book-readings now for... what? I do feel a sense of purpose about being a doctor, and not just for patients and community health, but for my family as well. I'll get to show my children that people can do something to help other people, to alleviate suffering. (Yes, I do still feel that way even considering the ugliness of the "Culture of Medicine." It can be done and a lot of people do it.)
That being said, next time we rearrange things for my family, we'll arrange them so that we can have a daily routine, that our lives are centralized around a common home. Being a doctor to avoid "Empty Nest"? I have an "Empty Nest" already.
When they go, I'll cry for an hour or so, I'll force myself to write a list of all the things I don't want to have to do while they're here. I'll get though most of the list in a few days and then start buying plane tickets, looking closely at my schedule, calling daycare centers to see if there's space for Torin, going to financial aide to see if there's any way we can afford it... I'll become depressed and less functional... getting by, but not doing much. I'll try to shake myself out of it, and before I slump over and give up- they're back. Then I want to spend all of my time with them, but I'll have energy to do all the things I should have been doing.
Is there any way to deal with this? How do other people deal with seraration from their families? Why was it so easy when I was the daughter? Is this just a result of residual guilt from being a bad daughter? Is it because I worry about being as absent as my mom was? How can I stop feeling this way!

My friend Andy and ZZ

2009-03-27T17:04:00.001-07:00

Steve, you asked why I call her Z. Well, there's a story to that, and here it is:

As you know, I was desperately sick during the first trimester. I threw up eight times a day and that was the easy part. I felt absolutely miserable- like every cell was revolting against being pregnant. I normally feel split between school and family, but I became so sick that nothing else mattered. In and out of the hospital, on three different medications, nothing helped- except IV fluids that the nurses were so reluctant to give me.

One day I felt well enough to drag myself in to a path review. (I threw up three times between the train station and class.) There was no seat, so I sat on the stairs next to my friend Andy. He was excited to see me, because he hadn't in a while, and because he's just a nice person. He understood (as much as he could) that I was miserable, and despite having planned the pregnancy, I felt lost and like my life was completely out of control.

Here's a pic of Andy:

Oh wait, no, that's not him. Here's Andy's facebook profile picture. Here's Andy's facebook page, so you can befriend him.

So during this pathology review session, I had to run out of the room to puke and/or splash cold water on my face. I returned to the session only to grab my things and to say goodbye to Andy. I noticed that the zipper on one of the pockets of the back pack was open, and I reached in to find the most amazing, perfectly timed homemade cards ever.

On the front there was a drawing of a sperm with arm buds and a bow in its hair and a caption that said:

Thank You for letting me...

Then you flipped it over and on the back it had a picture of my uterus with a little sperm bouncing from one side to the other, doing spins and flips and having a great time. It just said, in big letters:

ZIG ZAG!

I felt warmed! For a good two minutes, I forgot about my misery and felt happy! Around that same time, Andy said "She doesn't know how sick she's making you! She can't know, because she only has two neurons! One is for cutie and the other for fun!" I told Quelly about it, and she loved it too. Since then we've been calling her ZeeZee!

Andy's a great friend. He's the class punster. He is willing to laugh and very light-hearted. He has a unique perspective at all times. I'm sure I'll write more about him. And did you know that he was the valedictorian of his high school?!

Balance, and other fairy tales

2009-03-23T21:51:00.001-07:00

Balance? What? A couple of months before boards? HA!

This, right now, is what I signed up to sacrifice. I have to learn everything all over again, in even more detail, and all I want to do it play with TORIN!

I have to sleep to grow a human. She needs me to be healthy. How on EARTH am I going to review everything I have to review, keep going to lab a few times a week, work in the clinic every Tuesday morning, play with my son, wink at my husband, and get a healthy 8 hours of sleep every night. Prenatal yoga? HA!

It kills me that he's only here for less than another couple of weeks, and I have to study the whole time, and then I won't see him for another three weeks after that. I would cry, but after I'm done complaining (here) I have to study another lecture and then sleep, so there's no time for crying.

There's Mr. T. in his suit that he wore to the Free Clinic fundraiser.

Maybe I should think of balance as a lifetime thing, not as a lifestyle thing.

I swear, it will be easier as a grad student, right? Hosanna, I hope so!

Okay, I guess there is time to cry.

Keeping in Touch

2009-03-14T20:54:00.000-07:00

On video skype with my brother Steve, g-chatting with my sister Raquel, texting my dear Chris and my other brother Marcos, while Steve has Mom on speaker phone as we try to convince her that I'm really there with Steve in Hawaii. This is how we bid our Major Brother farewell the night before he goes to Afghanistan, leaving his wife and two children at home in Hawaii for six months. We'll be able to do the Skype when he is in Afghanistan, and in this sense, it will be comforting to feel that the world is small.

Times, they are changing. Nations trying to fight wars with terrorists, like a fist trying to punch an idea. I don't understand our strategy in Afghanistan, mostly because I don't see the benefit of an endless occupation. Afghanistan is a gorgeous country, and is undoubtedly worth saving, but is that what we're doing there? In the 90's, I received letters from Amnesty International asking me to urge our politicians to take a stand on the treatment of women, saying that Afghani women used to be professors and lawyers, but they were being brutalized by the fundamentalist Taliban. This was ongoing for 20 years before 9-11, well before we were sold the war in Iraq partially because of their treatment of women. Skepticism of war policy is my nature and remains so even my with my big brother headed over there.

This is me trying to make sense of a new foreign policy. Struggling.

I know that the US has real and powerful enemies, and I understand that it is the job of the military to stay vigilant. I've learned about the Clash of Civilizations, and that our civilization, despite what our voting demographics or protest placards tell you, stands in favor of free speech, free press, civil liberties, freedom of and from (!) religion, free enterprise, equal rights, etc. ( I feel silly writing this, because as I do, I can think of a million ways in which our freedoms have been violated.) I'm not addressing individual motions or events. I mean, in general, these things are valued in our civilization, so much that for some people, they are deemed self-evident truths. But it's a mistake and simply incorrect to think that they are basic principles for all of humanity. Some civilizations do not value these things, and this is where the CLASH part comes in.

Our world is getting smaller, and the notion of "live and let live" seems to be unrealistic and maybe as immoral as cultural relativism.

One more plea: Maybe we need to slow down. Maybe we need to allow civilizations to merge, to educate each other, to show each other the benefits of different ways of doing things. Maybe, just maybe, we can slow this clash down, and as confusing as life can be, we can always invest in what we know is good, what's important to us- family, community, environment, good will, charitable acts, education, health, personal peace, expression of ideas... Is there any chance that our very real, very powerful, imperfect enemies would do the same? While I'm here, my brother is at war, and all I can do is live a life rooted in these principles.

DISCLAIMER: This is what I'm thinking now. I reserve the right to change my mind at any time, I just know it's not as simple as I thought things were when I was 19. I'll freely challenge all of these thoughts, until I feel as though I've grasped some larger truth. I only have very small truths right now, one of which is that I love my brother with all my heart, that I support him in every breath that he takes, where ever he takes it, that I have deeply mixed feelings about where he's going, I feel one way only about him.

19 weeks down, 21 to go, Boards, Torin

2009-03-08T11:59:00.000-07:00

I'm past the brutal parts of the pregnancy. It was so awful I can't do it again, which saddens me greatly, but I just need to focus on the two children that I do have. Today I felt her kicks on the outside for the first time!

Looking at pictures of my first child makes me long for an infinite number of children. The last day of my trip to SF, we went for a forty-five minute walk... around the block. For Torin, a walk isn't about getting your heart rate up. It's about being in a new place, that just so happens to be right next to the place where he just was. The sun was blindingly bright. We had to choose what we looked at carefully. My eyes were glued on him. He focused on new beautiful things. We both saw the world as though it was the first time. We sat on the sidewalk and counted blooms on flower bushes. He ran his little finger over the stucco siding on the corner house.

It's all a practice of being "present". In violation of that:

This is Torin playing outside Nona's yard last summer. We found five or six of those rocks a few days later in his diaper. He slept well after that!

I miss him terribly. On the other front, I have been able to get a lot of school work done. It's nice to study early and take my time with the material. I think that missing Torin keeps me on track now, whereas before it made it impossible to focus. I'm not sure what's changed. He's a little older and so am I. Last year I decided to accept the sadness, and by doing so, I decided to not let it interfere with the rest of my life. Of course I'm sad. I'd be inhuman if I weren't. But I'm also grateful that I can study and enhance my life in other ways.

I take boards in just fourteen weeks! The countdown has begun.

Food Cravings when it's 5 degrees F outside

2008-12-21T12:41:00.000-08:00

This pregnancy is more dramatic than the last one. The nausea and vomiting is worse, the consequences worse, I need more help, I sleep more, have worse constipation... and I'm only 8 weeks along. My son is asleep in the other room, leaving me subject to reptilian ravenousness.

I write this as I am sucking down lemon after salted lemon. I'm trembling with need for these lemons, sure they'll be the only thing I don't throw up.

Except for the avocados that my dear husband is hunting for now. (Avocados? In December? In Chicago?) When he returns with his proud conquest in his arms, I'll skin them, sprinkle them with pepper and eat their green flesh right off the plump seed. Then I'll eat the next one.

I think my "human" brain is completely off the hook. I'd be sure of it if I didn't need seasoning.

Some of the boys in my life

2008-09-20T20:51:00.000-07:00

I'm a big believer in contemplating desire. I think this comes from being a youngest kid, and getting to see what my older siblings want, assuming that I wanted the same thing, reaching my late teens, realizing that I don't want the same things and having to start from scratch. For years, when I noticed that I wanted something I was ecstatic. It should be easier than that, right? Not for me!
And frankly, I am much much stronger for knowing what I want, and that I want it, not anybody else.
This is not what I meant to write about. In the last entry, "My Dreams", I said that I wanted AND I GOT IT ALL!!! It was SHEER BLISS, and I will spend the next few months recounting it. That way, I get to experience it twice (what's going on Anais Nin).
Both of my boys was with my for one weekend- for my Mom's 60th birthday bash. During that weekend, I rediscovered one gem of Utah Valley, and that's Sundance. Technically, it's in Provo Canyon, not the valley, but it's just 15 minutes away from where my mom and sister live. Just behind these two handsome boys is a quote, written by Robert Redford, about the similarities between and the interconnectedness of nature and creativity. It's worth thinking about, especially if you get to do so in Sundance. There in the hallway where Chris and Toin and standing are amazing pictures of legendary performers while they were producing their art at Sundance.

There's a nature camp there that I would love to send Torin to for a summer after he turns five. Yeah, ME, making future plans in Utah, and even involving my own vulnerable children. What can I say, I had a great time!

This picture was taken at Mom's Sixtieth. The handsome fellow I'm dancing with is my brother Steve. We were both being camera people while everyone else was dancing, until he decided to swing me out into the crowd and dance too! It was so fun that seconds went by before I realized that I'd better document the fun!

We all had a blast, including our dearest Mommacita, also known as MM, or Mama Mia. She must have not been expecting it because we were about 19 days early. She enjoyed her fifties even more after the party. Heck, maybe next year we'll celebrate her seventieth birthday, so she can have more fun in her sixties! Momma, I wish we could relive that party over and over again!

Here is my other brother Marcos.
He was on barbeque duty, so he didn't get out on the dance floor much either. But he sure did cook some delicious meat! His extract of being an Argentine revolves around the grill. He knows where to find the best cuts of meat and how to prepare them.

Each of my brothers have two children. Steve's kids are named Steven (Bito for short) and Sabrina. Marcos's kids are Hannah and Garrett. All four of these children are amazing: smart and talented and awfully good lookin'! It's getting late, but I will dedicate an evening to describing each of them.

My Dreams

2008-08-01T01:01:00.001-07:00

All I want to do right now is hang out with my families. I miss my Mom, sister, brothers. I miss my son and my husband. I miss Hat, Fred, George ... And yet. I have this gigantic thesis in the way between me and them, and I'm starting to really resent it.

For those of you who have written theses, please give some advice. The best advice might be "chill out" but I have a hard time doing that. See every extra day that I spend on it makes the whole schedule for the next month trickier. I want need to give the thesis to the Prof, get his approval (for which I'm budgeting a week, tops), give it to the other members of the thesis committee, let them review it, make their suggested revisions and then submit it to grad studies. That's all fine, but I need to make it to Provo for a couple of weeks too, so I can see my whole family and spend some time with my son, who I haven't seen for 13 days. In fact, in the last 28 days, I've only spent 8 with him. Here, want a picture? Yeah, me too.

That's a few months ago. Obviously, we were in the Doctor's office. Truthfully, he and my husband were in the Dr's office, they just sent me the picture. I was in school. :(

I am having trouble focusing on it. I busted my butt for the last solid week, and every time I look at it, my heart sinks! It's still so rough. The intro is especially weak, so when I START it's just awful. I'll put it away, read a little, then maybe the intro will work itself out. Yeah, that's right, I'm a hands-off kind of writer. I write by reading, it's a zen thing.

So I also want to be back for a stem cell grad class that starts on the 25th of August. And I'm going to miss some med school too. Which if fine, but I'd rather have fun missing school instead of running around printing out the thesis, etc.

They even sleep the same way! Torin's left handed, though. One of the few features he got from me.

I'm totally skipping around. Sorry. I was complaining! Oh yeah, and I was just about to stop complaining. Because I do like all the school I'm skipping between. Grad school. Med school. Other grad school. Rockin'! I shouldn't complain.

And it'll be fine, right? The thesis is almost not crappy. I will work tomorrow, and then on Sunday, and on Monday, and then I'll give it to Prof. I don't know how I'll get his revisions, because I'll be in Utah. But then when I do, I'll make the changes, kick it back to him, give it to the committee, all of which I can do from Utah. Getting their revisions will be tricky, but I can changes stuff in Utah too, but I have to be there to give it to Graduate Studies. Aghrrrr. Somehow, this will work out.

2008-07-24T21:38:00.000-07:00

HUGE AHA! moment! (Or ohm moment or whatever.)

Torin and Chris are gone. I finally started to feel better! I've been getting depressed every time they left since this started last year. It's been a year, really, since I've been going from totally happy and functional while they are here to completely depressed and dead when they are gone. I've tried to psyche myself out of it in every way I could. Before I knew what was happening I was drinking a lot. Then when I couldn't drink, I had to study and function, I couldn't focus, I felt panicky and I wanted to hurt myself. I hadn't felt that way since my family fell apart when I was 11, and I felt that way until I went to Argentina when I was 15. I figured it was just angsty hormonal girl, but there I was, 30+, feeling the same way.

I tried to cope, tried to read about or notice how other people cope with being away from their families. Nothing seemed reasonable or good. It looked like my choices were to become indifferent or angry, to pretend I preferred it when they are gone, or, the maybe the least destructive, to drink a whole lot of alcohol. Just to be clear,

We reevaluated our situation a million times. Every time, it seemed like this was the best thing to do in the long run, and knowing this, I just felt like while sure it's a sacrifice, it's one that will benefit us all maximally in the long run.

I don't know what happened today but something inside me broke. It's like I finally accepted my sadness, and I've surrendered to it. Now, all I can do is deal with it. What I do now is my choice, and I choose to be happy, to want my family more than anything, and knowing they are happy and that our relationship is strong, I chose to be okay. And now I'm doing something that I haven't been able in a damn long time. Crying like a baby. I'm just so grateful.

2008-06-27T18:11:00.001-07:00

Sorry for the delay. I'll treat the three of you to a lovely picture. Here you go:

Now, to more serious matters. First, I should mention that I do rotations at an ob/gyn clinic.

I have to know about YOUR PERSONAL experiences (or ones of a friend) at the ob/gynie that made the whole thing terrible or that made you more comfortable than ever before. Most women hate going to get a pap smear, and, probably as a result, delay it. This obviously has terrible consequences from a public health standpoint. Some of the things I hear that make it easier are things like, when the Dr is doing the exams, she/he should maintain a conversation and eye contact as much as possible. Another positive thing I heard is that the gyn has asked you to relax your muscles and take a deep breath.

There are waaaaaay more negative examples! Too many examples! Some are pretty hilarious or devastatingly upsetting, depending on how much time has passed. (MM says "crisis plus time equals humor.") (That's way way more charming when you put her not-thick-but-not-light-either Argentine accent over it.) Some I've heard:

When asked whether everything looked healthy, the doc said "yeeeesss???" in a questioning voice, as if to say "I've never seen anything like that!"

During an internal exam, the Doctor upon "noticing" that patient is nervous, says "Now I know you've had bigger things than my two fingers in here." Seriously! It's happened!

I want to hear your stories, both good and bad. I will share them with other docs-in-training and we will improve women's health care.

It's the Mother's Day Extravaganza!

2008-05-11T17:13:00.000-07:00

So Mother Lovely, here's a little sneak preview of what you will get to pinch, squeeze, kiss, hug, sing to, clap for and cuddle with sometime soon. I can't wait!

Mamma-Cita, Have the Loveliest Mothers Week EVER!

Love,

tam, torin, and bubs. xo!

(Uh, yeah, so I just watched this, and I'm sorry about snapping the gum all the time. In case anyone thinks differently, you did teach me better than that! Some of this is a little embarrassing, but in the spirit of "wish-you-were-here", I'll send them as is.)

When life gives you lemons, say "Hurray!"

2008-05-04T16:51:00.000-07:00

This is an addendum to my sister's blog that she posted just a little while ago. It's worth a look if you haven't seen if before. It's about our mother. She loves to eat lemons. She eats literally a dozen is a short period of time. Like apples. (Yet she has lovely teeth, that speaks well for her enamel.)

Taking an infant to a restaurant is no easy task. That's why I asked one of my best pals in the whole world The Trufflier go with Bubba and Torin while I was some hours away at a retreat swimming in the waters of Lake Michigan. She's an expert with children. She could get Torin to put his books away by himself when he was just over a year old. Little did she know that taking my son to a restaurant would lead to the uncovering of a deep, dark family secret.

Here he goes!

He tries it...

Wo! Something HUGE is happening inside his mouth! He looks to Vive (L'Trufflier) for reassurance.

...and now he's hooked. He's a lemon-lush. He just can't stop with the lemons!

Apparently, this was so cute that Vive and Bubba had dinner paid for them that night! I was a more than a little jealous! I'm glad I have these pictures! (Thanks, Vive!)

Ever since then, when Torin sees a lemon, he gets downright giddy.

Video of my wacky family. I miss my boys!

2008-05-02T08:54:00.000-07:00

Quelly, I meant to send this to you a while ago, but then I decided that Mom and Jen should have it too, so here you (all) go. It documents some family dynamics perhaps frighteningly well, despite being partially candid. (Suddenly I'm feeling a need to post a flattering picture of me. I'll doctor one soon.) We're kind of like three kids, no? Two kids and a baby?

They'll get back on Monday. I miss them, but this is the first time that I can say that it was better that they were gone. I have been studying or taking an exam 21 hours a day since they left. I needed it too, since I was more than a bit behind. Two more exams and I have my first year of medical school tucked neatly behind me!

Med school

2008-05-01T09:59:00.000-07:00

Friends,

I had to write about the art of medicine to complete the semester. This is not how I feel that things have to be, but I think it's how things are. I chose to go this MD/PhD thing for the potential, and how much good I can do, and that I can always work to be better. One day I'll write about all the great things. One day...

The art of medicine might be applied when discovering methods of achieving patient compliance. Patient compliance incorporates skills such as listening and addressing the concerns of the people we treat. A positive relationship based on a common goal and a mutual appreciation will be an effective tool in achieving patient compliance. This might require us to exhibit benevolence and clemency. The humanity required to do this is not a focus of our experience in medical school and such experience outside of medical school is not encouraged.
The most common complaint I hear from fourth year medical students is that patients don’t do what they ask them to, and that they feel that they simply can’t be responsible for any result of the patient’s lack of cooperation. There’s a jaded disregard almost as if the student who has come to this “acceptance” has experienced some rite of passage that has made them wiser. The most common reason for wanting to go to medical school is the desire to serve other people, born out of humility, compassion and a sense of purpose. Why is this driven out of us? What is it about us, and about medical school, or any experiences we have during these few years that cause us to change so much? Let’s examine this and critically look at the first and second years of medical school and maybe even more importantly, who we are.
Let’s examine our experience this first year. The first week we were instructed to focus on classes to the extent of not talking to our friend on the phone having a crisis. The hypothetical example was that our friend was breaking up with her boyfriend. Yet, this is exactly a time that our patients might be more likely to engage in risky behavior, which would diminish their health. A good physician might validate the emotional pain of such an experience and by inquiring about support from other people, encourage healthy activities to pass the time that the emotional pain is most acute, and reinforce the expectation that she will get better. The physician who lends more compassion to their patients than their friends is affected. Shouldn’t we be encouraged to embrace compassion in our lives, not just to adopt it and be able to turn it on and off like a spigot?
Who are we? We, us, medical students. We are a body of people who were chosen by an admissions committee to go to medical school. Who get’s chosen to go to med school? Those with excellent grade point averages, MCAT scores and “personal statements.” The capacity to maintaining loving relationships is not on the list. The capacity to prioritize giving up a contest to let your mom know how much you love her, it’s not on the list. Letting your dad know how much he’s done for you at a time that he’s lost his job and isn’t answering phone calls, it’s not on the list. However, sitting on a committee that organizes “tell people you love them” events might be on the list. Most of the time, humanity can’t be itemized.
The art of medicine is what makes us good physicians, and yet constitutionally, we are not the most humane people, to ourselves or to the people we love. Humanity is not something we have or have done and it’s not in a toolbox that we can take out and show off when people are watching. So where is the “art” of medicine? It’s in us, it is us, and sometimes, it’s missing.
Disclaimer: I feel that UIC is the least like this, and that the students are more cooperative than most.
Disclaimer Disclaimer: Even though we are as a whole least like this, students will do things like hide tags during a timed anatomy test so that the student behind them has to dig though cadaver for 40 seconds before they find out what the question is.

2008-05-01T04:37:00.000-07:00

I had the craziest dream that I didn't go to school and that I decided to stay home with Bubs and Torin. The funny thing is, I've been at school at 6am every day for the last week. It's been great, I've been getting a ton of stuff done, which has also been great, because it's finals week, and it's not like I can procrastinate anyway.

I make the decision to stay home with the boys all the time, especially in med school and when I don't have any meetings that day. I never did that when I was at UC Davis, because there was always a meeting, and certainly always experiments to do. Ironically, this is also where I am so worried about not spending enough time with them.

School has been great. I like being here early, and looking over the notes and asking Dr. Wiki whenever I have a question. Being active like that makes me feel truly healthy, other than that the room that I study in is filthy and has poor ventilation. (This healthy is particularly good, because we are studying "Brain and Behavior" and I swear I have all of these disorders.)

I have more pictures of our lovely vacation for you, but they are on my computer at home, so I'll post them later. Perhaps after finals.

There, of the three (you know who you are) of us, I posted last. Unless you were reading, you wouldn't know it was a contest. Now you know, so get crackin'!

Gratitude

2008-04-26T02:24:00.000-07:00

Occasionally I get lost in my thoughts and feelings and feel like I should post and see what everyone has to say, and help me develop my ideas. Then, as I'm sure the three of you have noticed, I don't. Today I was lurking around in other people's blogs and they just go stream of consciousness style.

I found these blogs when I searched for doctor or med student mother. Then I read the comments, and clicked on the interesting ones, I found potential friend after potential friend. The more I learn about them the more I like them. The last one I was reading was Snickollet. You should check her out.

I performed this search (for the blogs of mothers who were med students or physicians) because I've been really feeling torn about being a med student and a mom. I worry that I can't be good at both things. When I was in undergrad, and as a master's student, I was so focused on what I was learning that there wasn't time for thinking about anything else. I could wake up and think about what I was learning the day before, and have a refreshed perspective and enthusiasm about it. There's this guy in my program who is a lot like that, and it's like he has the perfect synergy with the material. You can practically see his "rewards center" light up like Christmas when he sees a long list of random disjointed facts that he has to be able to recite verbatim by the next morning.

So you can tell that I am not so excited about it. I need some sort of shift in perspective in order to improve my perspective. I have enough time, I know I do. Typically, I figure out how to do something right just as it's ending. I don't want that to be the case in this stage of my life. But if I had to choose, I'd rather be a great mom and minimize the damage I do as a student.

When I wake up, my first thought is about my son. Before I go to sleep, my last thought is about my son. I get by in class, but as much as I say "hey, I just need to pass these classes and learning is for my own good" and "the boards is what matters anyway" I still feel like I should be more present and engage with the material like unnamed irish guy in my program does.

Then when I do pick up the pace and start to thrive on learning the stuff, I get scared that I will miss things in Torin's life. Like, he steps into his pants now. He says "shoes" and "go go go!" I want to believe that I saw the first time, but I didn't. I am allowing myself to say that it's hard to be the mom that I want to be and the student that I want to me.

But I am! The reason I am is that I have a wonderful relationship with my son, and I have a kick-ass husband that takes care of our son (and me) and who is easy to talk to and is a good listener. He also believes in me. (And school? I have time to settle in, and getting passing rather than honors really isn't a big deal. It swells a little. I am not satisfied with my performance in school. I could be doing a lot better, without sacrificing my relationship with my family. Bubba and Torin go to California frequently enough that I have plenty of time to catch up with studying, but I don't exactly manage that time very well.)

Things could be so different. I don't have to put Torin in daycare, and deal with the logistics of that. We are well taken care of, and for one student one SAHD (stay at home dad) that's a big deal. Things could be different, but I wouldn't give up anything. I would just add, keep adding to the big complicated mess that I never cease to develop. It's a joyful mess. Every little piece of it is a joyful piece. Bubba likes toys. He also likes comic books. I thought that was going to drive me up a wall, but now I love it. When I tell him about my day, or about how I've been feeling, he comes up with some action hero story that relates to it, with yours truly carefully cast as the superhero. My favorite is when I get tempted to indulge self doubt, I remember a story about some superhero with a green mohawk whose power is confidence, and that he can do anything--beat The Hulk in arm wrestling--anything as long as he wasn't poisoned with doubt. When he told me about that, I stopped obsessing and just listened to stories about this character. How cool is that?

So cool.

I am my own brother-in-law

2008-04-13T21:28:00.000-07:00

I swear I'm better lookin' than this. This is actually my brother-in-law Ollie in a wig. I need some votes. For a looksie at him, go to my sister's blog again. You have to scroll down quite a ways, but you'll know when you've found him.

So yeah, I got a haircut today. I also "restored" my natural hair color. I was feeling regressive. This picture was taken to show the damage to my favorite Trufflier, but then I had to use it as proof, once and for all, that I look like Ollie's identical twin (but my bits were botched) sibling.

...and we have lift off.

2008-04-09T11:23:00.000-07:00

I am, if nothing else, a "try-anything-once" kind of girl. It can be sort of dangerous. But if I like it, and it sticks, then it can be really fun!

Take Torin, for instance. I tried having a kid, and it worked out quite well! It didn't have to, naturally. Plenty of Mom's don't like their little experiments, but I LOVE mine! He popped out and what did I say? "THAT'S MY BABY!" I might try that one again.

Then there's Bubs. I tried being married, and it seems to be going quite well, too. Sometimes I think there's something up his sleeve. Why is he being so nice to me? Why does he do what I want him to do all the time? He even puts his foot down when I secretly want him to. I remain appropriately suspicious of this "success." Meanwhile, I don't think I'll try it again.

Jury's still out on this "Med School" business. I mean, really, have you even met a med student? No! Why? They are either too drunk to talk or they are studying, that's why. I think I will be so jubilant when it's done that I will make it seem like it was a good idea. You heard it here. It stinks.

Blogging might be something I do again, or it could be just too much. Joining the leagues of my dearest Sister, and my Favorite Trufflier might make me find my digital home. Onward and Upward!