Home Sweet Home????

Got the opportunity to make a quick trip to Nashville for the weekend. I flew in late Thursday night so I could also take advantage of Friday. Immediately remembered why I don't love South Florida. Maybe it is just because it is how I grew up, but I find something very beautiful about hills and trees. The leaves have fallen, but it is still breathtaking scenery to me. All the houses were mostly beautifully (a few over the top) decorated for the Holiday - no lighted Palm trees here. There was a pleasant nip in the air with the smell of wood burning fire places. It felt like Christmas.

Friday morning began at the gym where I ran into an old friend. Probably not my most intense work out ever, but great to catch up. Next we were off to the mall. Had forgotten how much fun it is to shop with Kris. As usual, I did way more damage than Kris, but justified it by concentrating on how much money I "saved". Had already finished my Christmas shopping so everything was for me - I know I really do have a problem.

Brief stop back at home for the kids and Bassam, and then back to the mall.

I had finally talked Kris into letting me take the kids to Build-a-Bear, and I didn't want to give her time to change her mind. I can't speak for the kids, but I had a blast. What is not to love about watching an adorable "cuddly" get chosen, stuffed, washed and dressed. The amount of clothing and accessories that they had for these bears was mind blowing. It would have taken me days to decide, but the kids knew exactly what they wanted. Grace walked out with an adorable Reindeer named Clarice that says I love you. Matt landed a royal blue Star Wars bear that came complete with the theme music.

Saturday saw us off to the Skating rink. That's right - I said we went roller skating. Now keep in mind that I haven't skated in about 25 years, and you can see where this story is going. The look of the place hasn't changed much. It still has the disco ball and the same music I remember from childhood. What has changed is my ability to stay upright on a pair of roller skates. I am probably the exact same height that I was the last time I was on skates, but it sure did seem a lot further down to the ground. I didn't stand a chance of keeping up with Matt or Kris, but thankfully Grace was willing to travel at my speed. We spent a lot of time holding to the wall and sitting on the carpet. I escaped with only minor bruising, and much more respect for the waiters at Sonic.

We capped off the day with a trip to see Ice. Ice for those of you not from Nashville is this amazing show put on at Opry each year where an entire Christmas story is told in ice sculptures. There is a different theme each year (The Grinch, Charlie Brown, etc). This year it was Santa Claus is Coming to Town. It is usually at the Gaylord Gas Light theater, but things there are still recovering from the flood so it was inside a "tent". It was as beautiful and as cold as ever. Even with the parka's they provide over my own substantial layering, I could barely feel my face when we left. I spent a lot of time going to the Opry as a kid (my parent's are huge Country music fans) so it was nice to see it back up and running. However, the Opry Mills Mall (which was an amusement park when I was a child) still has not recovered, and it was quite sad to see it standing empty except for the Bass Pro Shop which is the only store to reopen to date. We finished the night with a nice dinner and a movie at home.

Sunday morning dawned cloudy and cold. The rain from the day before was now beautiful snow flurries. However, they were predicting significant accumulation as they day progressed so slight adjustments to the travel plans became necessary. I was able to make it to church to see the kids perform the annual Christmas play (they were awesome), but had to leave shortly after as the snow was starting to come down in earnest. Our plane required significant de-icing, but we were able to get off relatively "on-time." My initial flight was eventually cancelled, and all the other flights to Florida that day were significantly delayed so good thing I left when I did. After a brief stop in Tampa, I arrived back in Miami.

Talk about a change in climate. I left Nashville at 24 degrees with snow falling, and arrived in Miami to a slight drizzle and a balmy 72 degrees. I know I should be happy to be back home to the warm weather and the passable road ways, but a large piece of me still wishes I was back there. Sure cold weather is not my favorite thing, but having friends and amazing scenery nearby sure make it worth it.

Boot weather

Winter finally decided to visit South Florida. We have had lows in the 60's for the last two days, and they are predicting 45 on Tuesday. I know I can feel all the sympathy rolling my way, but I'm not writing this to complain about how cold it is (even though it does feel quite frigid out there this am).

I am writing to rejoice for the return of the "wearing of the boots." Every woman that I know be she young or old loves boots. I don't know why or how, but there is something about a boot that makes every woman feel just a little more sexy and pulled together. We all walk a little taller with a little more strut to our step when we are sporting a cute pair of boots. South Florida girls are no different. We just have less occasion to wear them. {I am officially ignoring the 20 somethings that wear Uggs with daisy dukes and tank tops.}

As soon as the weather drops below 70 degrees here, every female under the age of 90 pulls out the boots. You don't know when it might get this cold again so you have to take advantage it. I myself am quite upset that I missed a "boot day" yesterday because I was freezing in scurbs and clogs on a plane at 40,000 feet somewhere over the Atlantic ocean. I made up for it today with a very cute "boot ensemble" if I do say so myself.

Let's see, they are predicting 4 more days of cold weather, and I have 6 more pairs of boots to wear. Difficult - sure, but far from impossible to pull off.

Faux Christmas?

Let me begin by apologizing for the quietness of my blog. In all honesty, I can't even blame my job. Things have been busy at work, but not viciously so. My silence was due mostly to a period of self-reflection. My "mid-life" crisis got me to thinking about where I am, and where I want to be. It was a time for me to do a little mental housekeeping . . . not sure I still have it all figured out, but at least now I have identified the problems. Some of those thoughts I will share with you over the coming months, and some are best left in my head. Regardless, I finally feel as if I am moving in a good direction.

Enough of that - I have a much worse confession to make. . .

I broke my biggest Christmas rule. I bought and actually set up an artificial Christmas tree. I know. To borrow from Joseph Conrad - The Horror . . . The Horror. Believe it or not, I did put some thought into it, not that anything can really justify a fake tree, but here goes.

I actually haven't had a Christmas tree for the last four years. Those of you who know how much I LOVE Christmas will be surprised by that statement. In Nashville, I never did a tree because quite honestly I never spent much time at my apartment. Any free time I had was spent at the Helou's. I conveniently always made sure that I was at their place for the trimming of their tree, so I counted it partially as mine. In Philadelphia, I quite honestly was too busy to even think about the tree, and would have no idea how to get it home in the snow. Last year here, I was still surrounded by boxes so a tree just wasn't an option. Therefore, I decided a few months ago - when Christmas things started hitting the shelves - that this year I was definitely buying a tree.

Well a few months ago, I still had an SUV, and didn't have a convertible. I love Christmas, but not enough to strap a sticky 7 ft tree to my rag top. I could have had a friend bring it home for me, but I was too impatient to coordinate. My other concern was for the heat. My air conditioner is still on in my condo. I don't think that is exactly a perfect habitat for a North Carolina Douglas Fir.

Therefore, the day after Thanksgiving found me at Target buying my first ever faux tree. In all honesty, now that it is all set up and fluffed out, I must admit it looks pretty good. It has even shed a few needles to help with the deception. The thing it can't fake however is the wonderful smell of a Christmas tree. Oh well, maybe next year. This year is all about the faux - let's just hope that doesn't prompt Santa to leave faux gifts.

Mid-life crisis

Several friends have resisted the labeling of my current crisis as mid-life, but I feel that has more to do with their being the same age as me and less to do with the phrase not being accurate. Call it what you like - I am definitely in it. I am one husband that I can cheat on away from the stereotype. (Good thing I had the convertible already.)

I am not sure the exact thing that started it. I suspect it was just a mixture of the right set of ingredients at an ideal time to produce the perfect crisis. Begin with a VERY difficulty operation, add in a difficult post-operative course, a lot of late night operating, a few transplants, minimal sleep and three straight weeks of work. Once blended well, fold in a handful of friends all with way cooler lives and then place into a pre-heated oven. That wonderful aroma you smell - a midlife crisis.

It only took one bite for me to realize my life sucks. I have a job that I'm not sure I'm good at doing. I live in a city that I don't love surrounded by doctors. My family and friends are all thousands of miles away living really cool lives. And they are good at living their lives. They balance work and play. They are awesome parents. They are Presidents of their companies. They are self-employed and get to work at home. They have play dates and dinner dates. They go on trips and vacations. They move to Germany. At the end of the day, they seem to make a difference. They are living their dreams and it seems to be everything they imaged it could be. They have control and are enjoying it.

I know the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence, but it really doesn't feel like a case of "greener" to me. I feel that my side of the pasture is covered in mud and anything would be better. I need to do something to shake things up. I am sick of the status quo so I need to figure out how to change it. I have to take risks and get out of my box. Not sure what exactly I want to do yet, but I'm thinking about it. May take a nap first . . . but I'm thinking.

It's only a heart

Strange few days. I believe I mentioned at the end of my last post that I was waiting on a lung harvest. After my training session Monday night, I went home, showered, and headed straight for bed to try to get a little sleep before the transplant. Good thing. Those 5 hours ended up having to last me for the next two days.

It started with a phone call at 2 am Tuesday morning. Phone calls at 2 am are never good. It was our transplant surgeon calling to tell me that the lung transplant had been cancelled. One would think that was good news, but I knew he wouldn't be calling unless there was a catch, and boy was it a big one. After telling me the lungs weren't going to go, he asked when the last time I had harvested a heart. I thought for a minute and replied at least 2 1/2 years. (We did them at Vanderbilt, but much less often than the lungs, and never without an Attending helping us.) He answered back, but you remember how right? I replied that I thought so, but it had been a while. His answer - it's only a heart, I can talk you through it.

That was how I found myself heading out all alone to harvest an organ that I spent a whole extra year of training in snowy Philadelphia to quit operating on. Best laid plans. Thankfully, it went well and I headed back. Per tradition, I helped sew it in. Near the end of the case, we were informed that there was a lung transplant that would be going Tuesday night. Talk about the wrong place at the wrong time. Naturally the transplant surgeon looked across the table and asked me to help him with the lungs. I have a hard time saying no (REALLY need to work on that one), so I agreed to be present at 2 am Wednesday morning to transplant some lungs. I thought, at least we are back to my comfort organ. It was already 4 o'clock Tuesday afternoon, so I was planning to quickly see my patients and head home for a nap.

While I was rounding, I got a call from my partner. His first operation of the day was bleeding in the recovery room, and he was in the middle of his second case. I quickly headed down and then back to the OR with his patient. We were able to get the bleeding under control and the patient back to the recovery room. It was now 8 o'clock. If I played my cards right I could still get a shower and a couple of hours sleep before the lung transplant. Never have been good at playing cards. I got the shower, but had no sooner closed my eyes when I got a call that my partner's patient was again unstable. I headed in and spent the next few hours at bedside trying to stabilize things. I will admit that I did close my eyes a few times on the couch in the doctor's lounge, but my phone seemed to be able to sense whenever I was approaching sleep and it would be kind enough to ring and wake me.

By the time I had the patient quasi-stable, it was time to start the lung transplant. That brought me up to about noon yesterday and the brink of total exhaustion. It was like a bad flashback to residency, but with a new twist. As a resident, I would have been able to head home to bed. As an attending, I got to see my patients, shower quickly and head to the production studio to shoot my commercial. Yeah you heard me correctly - I had to shoot a television commercial for our cancer center after getting zero sleep for 36 hours. All I can say is a huge thank you to the inventor of concealer and the wonderful make-up lady at the studio. I made it through the commercial - something I NEVER wish to do again and headed home.

By then, it was 5:30. As much as I wanted to go straight to bed, I knew this would just completely screw my sleep schedule, so I headed out. I walked to a local restaurant and had the best macaroni and cheese that I have ever tasted. Not at all on my diet, but I really felt at that point that a little comfort food was in order. After the Nirvana of the mac and cheese, and a walk along the beach, it was almost 8 o'clock - a perfectly respectable bed time I felt. I headed home, put on my PJ's and must have crawled into bed because that is where I woke up at 7:30 this morning, but I honestly have no recollection of physically getting there.

Today was supposed to be a fairly quiet day for me, but have already taken a trauma patient to the operating room to pull glass out of her airway, seen an unexpected patient in clinic, and added to my OR schedule for tomorrow. A rumor has been started about another lung transplant. I hope it is just some one's idea of a bad joke. Nevertheless, I am laying low and out of sight the rest of the day.

Do you believe me now?

The weekend didn't start off the most promising. After a horrible case Friday, I went home and crashed. Unfortunately, the mental exhaustion wore off around 2 am at which time I was awake. I called in and checked on my patient, and then spent the rest of the time till dawn wide awake but physically exhausted, so not wanting to be. I finally gave up trying to sleep around 6 am. I showered and ran into work (on my weekend off). Everything seemed okay so I went to the gym, and then ran to Target before my hair appointment.

As I was getting my hair trimmed, my stylist was telling everyone that would listen (as she always does) that I am a surgeon. She actually says "La Cirujana de Thorax" as she only speaks Spanish. One of the ladies that she was telling this to responded, "you mean she is going to be a surgeon?". My Spanish, I am proud to say, is finally good enough that I understood what she said and could reassure her myself that I was indeed already a doctora. She didn't believe me in Spanish or English. I actually had to show her my driver's license before she would believe my age.

That was then. This is now. Since that one highlight, I have spent way too many hours in the OR, and the ones not there were spent worrying about needing to go back. I most definitely look my age and a couple of other people's today. After the lung transplant that is slated to start at midnight, I may even be offered a senior citizen discount at IHOP tomorrow.

Lack of Oxygen?

I have started having auditory hallucinations. No boring voices for me - that would be too normal. I hear a ringing phone or a text message chirp - EVEN when I don't have my phone and no one else around me does either!

Yesterday I went for a run - 8 miles and I almost died, but I digress. I live with my phone constantly attached to me. I don't have a pager, which I love, but that means I always have to have my phone so the hospital can reach me. The one exception that I give myself is while I am exercising on days that I am not on call. It's not often, but on those days for one or two hours I get to be completely alone and unreachable. It is FANTASTIC.

Yesterday happened to be one of those days, so I didn't even carry my phone with me to the gym. The fact of it not being there, however, did not stop me from hearing it. I must have looked for it twenty times while I was running because I would have sworn that I heard it. Granted there didn't seem to be a lot of oxygen going to my brain, but this was pathetic. Have I become so co-dependent on my phone that I hear it even when it's not there? Luckily when I went home, it was not to find twenty missed calls or texts - that would have been just too freaky.

Possibly going too far

Okay - I may be taking this Fall thing a little too far. Today I broke out the worsted wool orange jacket, long skirt and boots. Probably a little over the top, but definitely beautiful for Fall - which we technically are in even if the weather isn't cooperating here.

Why am I so into fall this year? Not sure exactly. Partly I think that my blood has actually "thinned", and I now really do find the low 80's a little chilly, but I think mostly I am a little homesick. Wearing Fall clothes and colors almost convinces me that I am back home in Georgia or Tennessee. Some days that helps.

Sad but true

Everyone warned me it would happen. I assured them it would not. I felt confident that I was stronger if not smarter than to allow it. Today it happened.

As I prepared to leave my condo this am, I stepped outside to "test" the weather. I usually do this to decide if I should pack my rain coat and wear my Wellies. However, this morning, it prompted me to put on a jacket. The temperature you ask - a cool 83 degrees.

It's all about adapting

It's very important when traveling abroad to try to fit in with the local customs. One should try to do what the locals do so that they are accepting of the outsider who has moved to their shores.

Here is my attempt at fitting in with the locals. Already have my first sunburn - guess I should keep some sunscreen in the car.

Wrong again

I had honestly hoped that the simple act of moving to the beach would open up this whole new life for me. It would be filled with glitzy parties, cute guys, ladies lunches, and late night strolls on the beach. Okay - I admit that I have a very active imagination. A very active imagination that is very good at ignoring the actual reality of my career choice.

What has it actually been like living on the beach? I must admit not much different. The view is a little nicer, but until VERY recently, I couldn't see it for the boxes. When it is dark, which it is both when I leave for work and when I come home, the ocean is really more of a sound than a sight anyway. I have met a few people in my building, but I seem to have a different schedule than most. I am getting up when most of the people who lead the life of which I dream are just lying down to bed. Even worse, my bedtime these days seems to be even earlier than Grace's and she's 4! I don't regret moving to the beach. I think I will really enjoy it here. I was just hoping for a week or two of seeing how the "other half" live. Guess there is more to it than just the right zip code after all.

On the positive side, things are finally going very well at work which partly explains why I haven't been out more, and I am almost unpacked which explains the rest of why I haven't been out more. However, despite being on call this weekend, I plan to go new car shopping. Convertible here I come - wish me luck!

do boxes multiply?

Although not really a pic of my place, add a few more boxes and a pink wall, it could be. My Labor Day goal was to find the end of the boxes. Turns out, there is no end to the boxes. They are magical boxes that multiply whenever my back is turned.

For a time yesterday, I became convinced that I was on Candid Camera (oops - telling my age there - I mean being Punk'd). I would finish unpacking what I was sure was the last box only to turn around and see five more where earlier none had stood.

The saddest part of all - it is really all my stuff. I was hoping when I saw the huge number of boxes delivered to my small condo that a mix up had occurred. Some poor family of six was missing half their stuff because it has been erroneously brought to my place. I was confident that halfway through my move I would find boxes of men's shirts and children's toys that I could then return to their rightful owner. Alas, this has not happened. Box after box after box contains the familiar.

Not only are these magical boxes, they are cruel magical boxes. They have begun to taunt me and say cruel things. I hear them whisper late into the night about American consumerism and gross consumption. They laugh at my attempts to organize so much stuff into such a small space. They call me an Ugly American. They are really quite mean boxes.

If I can ever rid myself of my current infestation, I promise to post pictures of the new place. It really is fantastic when it is not covered in evil boxes. Still haven't actually made it to the beach yet, but hoping for a trek there soon. At least it would be free of boxes - I hope?

The curse is broken?

So here's a story I've never told before. As I have mentioned on many occasions, I am moving to South Beach. As anyone who knows me also knows, moves never go well for me. As a matter of fact, this blog actually started as a place I could vent about my horrible moving experience two years ago. However, another move was necessary so with apologies to my mom and Kris (they are always the recipients of the tearful phone calls detailing the latest moving snag), I contracted a moving company.

I scheduled the packing to be done last Thursday, and the actual move to occur on Friday. Thursday morning I had clinic, so the movers weren't supposed to arrive until after 11 am. At 11 am, I am stuck in traffic on 95 when I get a call from the movers. They very apologetically told me they were running a few minutes late, and would not make it until closer to 11:30. Since it would take me almost all of that time to get home, it worked out perfectly. The packing took forever, but that is less the movers, and more my ridiculous amount of stuff. By 7:30 that evening, I was all packed and ready to be moved. I spent the night at the new place for the first time and headed to work ridiculously early Friday morning to get a few things done before the actual move was supposed to happen.

Friday morning I left work about 8:30 and headed home to meet the movers. I anxiously awaited the phone call telling me they were lost, brought the wrong truck, the truck was full, etc. etc, but my phone remained incredibly silent. At quarter til 10, a knock at the door. The movers were here. They actually were planning to take my stuff from point A to points B and C (part went to the new place and a lot went to storage). Well that just wouldn't do - a snag had to happen at some point. I spent all day waiting for it, but by 5 that evening, I was sitting in the new place surrounded by boxes with the remainder of my stuff safely ensconced in "the vault". What was this some elaborate con? Would I start unpacking the boxes and realize it wasn't my stuff? Something had to be awry? I simply don't move smoothly.

Sure, I'm still surrounded by boxes, and have no idea where things are or will go, but for the most part this hasn't been a horrible experience. May be the moving gods have finally decided to smile on me, or maybe they just didn't realize I would be moving again so quickly. Regardless, I could almost enjoy moving if more went like this one.

Run don't walk

Native American story holds that you never really know a man until you can walk a mile in his shoes. I don't need anyone to walk a mile in my heels, but I sure would love to have someone run a mile in my sneakers. Specifically the first mile of every run that I do.

As most of you know, I am training for my first (and probably last) half-marathon. Things are progressing okay I think, I still spend the first mile of every run convincing my brain that I am not really going to die, and bribing my lungs to keep supplying oxygen. Shouldn't that be a more mile 7 or 8 problem? If I make it past the first mile, things usually get better, but the first mile always sucks. I'm sure this is all mental, but not sure how to fix it. Ideas?

Right clothes / Wrong city?

I spent the weekend trying to prepare for my upcoming move. Part of the preparation included going through my closet (yet again), and trying to find clothes to weed out. The problem: I have a great closet. I truly like and can wear the clothes that live there. Notice I said can wear - not do wear.

It took me many years to arrive at a personal style. From those horrible 80's fashions to my granola stage in the 90's, I finally arrived at a look that worked for my body and which I liked. It is mostly tailored with occasional 50's flair, but I like to think it looks stylish. Everything was going great until I moved here.

Many things about the Miami style aesthetic are not for me. It is way more casual than I feel comfortable being at work, and there is way too much skin showing. I could have Jennifer Aniston's body, and still not be comfortable showing that much skin. (Although if one believes the advert - you only have to drink a certain water to look that way.) However, there is a certain part of the Miami style that is entirely practical and almost necessary. People wear lots of flowy light fabrics here. The reason - heat and humidity. It rarely gets above 95 degrees here, but the humidity never gets below 95% either. Therefore, one sweats standing still. The more tailored or fitted the clothes, the more noticeable the sweat stains. My dry cleaning bills are through the roof because everything only gets one wear.

Do I buy a whole new wardrobe or find a whole new city? Decisions, decisions, decisions.

Sunshine and a slice of sand

Well, it's official. I am moving to the beach. Everything was finalized this morning. In two short weeks, I will be waking up each morning to the view of the sun rising out of the Atlantic. It is a smaller place than I have now, but it does come with the ocean nearby so I think it works out okay. The views from the balconies are actually even better than the ones I have now which is saying something. (Now it would really be saying something if I actually spent anytime sitting on the balconies enjoying the view, but I digress.)

I am excited about the new location, but stressed about the move. Let's be honest - when have I ever had a smooth moving experience? Trying not to jinx myself, but already expecting the worst. Distracting myself by imagining my new "beach" lifestyle where I take long walks along the water's edge, wander around along Ocean drive, sample the fabulous dining along Lincoln Road, or shop along Collins Avenue. I know probably never going to happen, but a girl can dream.

I forgot

Rainy season. When one lives in the Tropics there are trade offs - warm dry winters are great, but must be balanced with the wet season. For South Florida, that is June thru September - a time of the year where it rains every afternoon and sometimes all day for days at a time. We are currently going thru the latter. It has basically been raining here since Friday.

However, I am convinced it is called the wet season not for the rain per se, but for the fact that you always end up wet. Umbrellas are mostly useless here. Rain doesn't fall in a strictly up and down direction - it prefers a more side to side route. I tried a rain coat - I looked like a hot four year old waiting on the bus. Even if I could figure out how to keep my clothes dry and retain my dignity, my shoes are hopeless. I live in a city that is on average 6 feet above sea level. Let's just say drainage is an issue.

Oh well, I'm sure in a few months when I have finally dried out, and am enjoying the beach in December it will all seem worth it. As for now, it just seems damp.

Eyes up here please

Hands up for anyone that recently went to a meeting, looked around the table and actually made eye contact with a single person. Okay. Now hands up for anyone who recently went to a meeting, looked around the table and noticed that every single person was entranced by their smart phone. In my world, a lot more people raised their hand with the latter.

It's not just meetings either. I now find myself carrying on complete conversations with people, and they never look up from their email. I used to have trouble recognizing people without an OR mask, now I struggle recognizing people without their heads being bent over a phone. In the cafeteria, entire tables of people are all glued to their phones and completely ignoring one another.

I get multi-tasking - really I do, but at the end of the day how many emails do you get a day that are REALLY that important. I actually have to occasionally make life and death decisions, and I can assure you that none of those decisions involved an email. There is nothing on my iPhone that can't wait until I finish a meeting, lunch or a conversation.

What is our new obsession with being constantly connected, and how is it not rude to be completely distracted from the person that actually made an effort to speak to you in person? I recently sent an email to the distracted person I was trying to discuss a case with - it read: please look at me.

Shouldn't I be having more fun?

It is said that time flies when you are having fun. I will concede that time is flying, but this is not my idea of fun. I would use adjectives such as exhausting, stressful, overworked, overextended, exasperating, maddening, distressing - well you get the idea. Notably absent on that list - fun. Also notable absent - accomplishments.

If asked, I would tell you that I have been extremely busy the last several weeks - thus the quietness of my blog. My days are one big blur of working, avoiding homelessness and the gym. Even weekends these days are indistinguishable. However, I sometimes feel that I have little to show for it.

Things continue to slowly pick up at work, but I would love to be busier. I was just selected to be in a new advertising campaign for the Sylvester Cancer Center. I was told that I have a good "face for lung cancer". I am trying very hard not to read too much into that statement. Not sure I am comfortable with the whole idea of advertising, and certainly not comfortable with the idea of being on TV or even worse a billboard, but it doesn't appear as I have much choice.

As for the homeless avoiding - progress I think. Although the condo sales market continues to do poorly down here, the rental market is hopping. I am trying to move to South Beach so that I will have the opportunity to drive a little less and walk a little more. I miss walking for a cup of coffee on a quiet Saturday morning (decaf these days of course). I seem to not be alone in this desire. Condos come and go from the rental market in less than 12 hrs, and not cheap. Not kidding!

It looks like I have finally found a place, but will not be comfortable until I have a key in my hand. I had to settle on something furnished, don't even get me started, which means that now I have to put my stuff into storage. At least, I will have great views, a short 4 block walk to the Atlantic, and a guest room. Now if only I take advantage of this new found neighborhood and get out and meet people. Of course that means I would have to spend less time at work, but that's a fight for another day. Never fear, when time is flying this fast, fun has to be just around the corner. Right?

Age before beauty?

It has been one of those weeks. On paper it had potential for being a good week, but in reality the wheels have fallen off. The truly sad thing is that I really don't feel like I have accomplished very much. I think I am going to have to put it in the same category as my "circuit" training sessions - surviving is the accomplishment.

Today however has been the icing on the cake. I was at the hospital until after midnight last evening trying to prevent some well meaning medicine doctors from killing a patient. She had extreme airway issues, and the patient and I seemed to be the only two people who truly appreciated that fact. After many hours at the bedside, and endless hours on the phone talking to radiation oncologist, medical oncologist, cardiologist, pulmonologist and intensivist (all who were tucked into their beds at home), we worked out a plan. Or so I thought.

Today, everyone kept trying to change the plan. As I was explaining to the medical oncologist for what seemed like the hundredth time why it was not safe to biopsy her endobronchial lesion, he had the nerve to tell me to my face, that he would like someone with a little more experience. I quickly explained to him that when it came to the surgical treatment of difficult airways, there wasn't a person in the hospital with more experience than me. So when he said what he really meant was someone older, I almost lost it. In all honesty, you would prefer someone with less experience and less knowledge about the problem just because they happen to have grey hair and wrinkles?

I am probably a little sensitive to the problem because I have had two patients recently request to see one of my "more senior" partners. They reassure me it's not me, they would just feel more comfortable with someone "older." I get wanting to have someone with lots of experience and wisdom, but it is important to remember that those things don't necessarily come with age.

It did make me feel better that ultimately both patients had to come back and see me because neither of my "older" partners perform the procedures that they need. It also made me smile from ear to ear when the medical oncologist was told by my two partners and one of the cardiac surgeons that not only was I right, but when it came to difficulties of the airway, they would defer to the "young" Dr. Baxter as she had the most experience.

Just think how much money I can now save on facial cream and hair color.

Where did it go?

Today is the halfway point of 2010. That's right - this year is half over. Does that seem wrong to anyone else? I checked the calendar twice today and it really is the end of June.

I keep telling people that I meet here at work that I'm the "new" girl, but in reality I have been working for 9 months. I hope this doesn't portent how all my remaining years shall pass. I need them to slow down a bit. At this stage, there is no reason to rush toward the finish line.

i Take forever

I have a love hate relationship with my iPhone. I love it as a "smart" device, but it leaves a lot to be desired as an actual phone. I will admit that I have let it's general usefulness in every way but as a telecommunication device convince me to keep it around. (I figure eventually enough people will complain about the phone issue that they will have to fix it.)

Tonight started out with a perfect example of why I like my iPhone. I found what seems to be a great new running app that I wanted to download. It is from Runner's World, and guarantees to get me ready for any distance for which I want to aim. When I tried to download, it haughtily informed me that I needed a newer version of iPhone software before I could proceed.

Okay - I haven't backed up my phone in a while anyway, so I'll sync it and get the new software all at the same time. Should have known it sounded too good to be true. When I tried to Sync and download the newer version of the software, I was told that I needed a newer version of iTunes before I could download the new i Phone software. Anyone else sensing a pattern?

That was over 45 minutes ago. The iTunes just finished downloading, and now I'm told it will take another 15 minutes to download the new phone software. One would think I was using dial-up. It must take days that route.

I thought technology was supposed to make life easier - not convinced this is better, but it certainly wins for longer.

Floating on Air

I could have shown up to work barefoot today and never realized it because my feet still haven't touched the ground. I didn't get past the "We are pleased to inform you" part of my letter from the Thoracic Board before I started floating on air. My heart was racing faster when I opened the envelope than when I actually took the test. However, since opening said envelope, I have been able to do nothing but grin like an idiot. (I guess at some point I should actually finish reading the letter, but surely they wouldn't be pleased to inform me that I failed - right?)

I have passed other tests, and I have even certified (in General Surgery), but nothing has ever felt quite this good. I am not sure exactly why this feels so good, but I suspect it has a lot to do with this finally being IT. This was the last mountain that I had to climb - I have reached the summit. Sure, I still have to establish a successful career, publish, create "a name" for myself, and maybe even get a life, but I DON'T HAVE TO TAKE ANYMORE TESTS!!!! (I can't tell you how good that sentence feels to type.) I have been having to prove myself on standardized - and not so standardized - tests for the last 30 years. I am happy to report that although much more slowly than all of my friends, I have finally proven myself.

I am sure as the days and weeks pass, the daily grind of work will slowly pull me back down to Earth. However, I plan to stay up here as long as possible - the view is absolutely fantastic.

Thank you all for putting up with me - I know that was a gargantuan task these last few weeks. Now I think it is time we party!

Exhausted

My test was on Friday in the morning. I did nothing more taxing than shop and sight see for the remainder of the weekend. Yesterday I had a reasonable clinic in the afternoon, and today I had a single relatively easy case.

My question? Why am I so tired? It currently requires an embarrassing amount of effort to simply get out of my chair. Can really old age hit this fast?

I'm Back!

Whew! That's four weeks of my life I'll never get back and hope to never have to relive. It is hard to even really describe what it is like to study for and then actually take the Thoracic Surgery oral boards. I think it might be a lot like combat - you can understand the concept, but it isn't until someone fires at you that you actually get the experience. There aren't many people who walk into a hotel room with two strange men to work through "scenarios" (pretty much just us an working girls). Believe it or not, the reality is even stranger than the description.

Oh well, won't know if I passed for at least a week, but do know that I can't change it now so might as well get on with life. I did walk away from this whole experience having learned a few things about myself, so at least it wasn't all a wash. My lessons:

Lesson 1: It has been a long time since I thought like a Cardiac surgeon. This lesson became very obvious to me in the middle of my exam as I was describing how to "protect the heart" during some huge cardiac disaster scenario.

Lesson 2: For someone who always likes to see things as black or white, I have landed in a profession full of shades of gray. I think this may be good for me in the long run. It has opened me up to the idea that sometimes a problem can have many different equally right solutions. However, I'm still prone to believe my way is best. (Leopard can't change all her spots at once - how else would you still recognize her as a leopard?)

Lesson 3: I miss great friends nearby. I have wonderful friends - I have said it over and over. The only problem is that currently they all live elsewhere. I still talk to them and we visit, but it isn't quite the same as having them down the street. I am a tactile person by nature, and miss having friends within touching distance. I have met lots of people here, but no one has yet to click into that "great" friend spot. Did get to catch up with some great friends over the weekend in Chicago, and am heading to Nashville this weekend, but must keep looking here.

Lesson 4: I am a nomad at heart. This was my first trip to Chicago, and I loved it. I could so see Chicago as "my kind of town" - for a while. Therein lies the problem. There are so many great places that I want to live - for a while. With the exception of Nashville, I can't think of one city that I have lived to which I want to move back. They were all great places, and I can honestly say that for a time I truly loved living in each and everyone of them. However, at the end of the day, there are so many places and so little time. My parents have lived within a 50 mile radius their entire live, so I definitely didn't get this gene from them.

Lesson 5: I may finally be ready for a serious relationship. Don't get too excited out there - I said relationship not marriage. The "M" word still gives me hives and causes me to hyperventilate. However, I am ready to concede that it would be nice to have someone around to share experiences with - the highs and the lows.

I am sure many more lessons were given, but only time will tell if they were learned. All I can say now is that I feel as if a two hundred pound weight as been lifted off my chest. I am happy to be back to normal. Thanks everyone for sticking it out with me yet again.

Addicted?

I read yesterday, that caffeine can contribute to stress. People who consume large amounts of caffeine have more difficulty managing acutely stressful situations than people who consume none or minimal caffeine. Since I am going crazy with stress at the moment, and consuming what has to be unhealthy quantities of caffeine, I decided to give up caffeine (for about the hundredth time in my life).

I am about 14 hours into life without caffeine, and already have the shakes. I'm tired, grumpy, sleepy and can't concentrate. I'm either having caffeine withdrawal symptoms or I am studying for a huge test. Okay so it can go either way. I am incredibly frustrated that I have again allowed myself to become addicted to caffeine. I am more frustrated that I decided now was a good time to fight this particular demon. I know one thing for sure - I'm giving up reading.

Soap Box

I know that I haven't been great about blogging lately. In all honesty, I have been fairly stressed - I have the Oral portion of my Thoracic boards coming up and I have been busier than usual at work. Greater than normal stress tends to make me grumpy. I recognize this about myself, and try to minimize the collateral damage by sequestering myself. The less external interactions, the less I have to apologize for when my stress levels recede. Boards are over June 11th, so hopefully this latest high tide is almost over.

However, I can't help but to vent a little. I have tried to keep an open mind about life in Miami. My Spanish grows daily and I am truly happy about it. However, I have my limits. I walked into ABP this morning to grab a cup of coffee. As usual, the lady behind the counter greeted me in Spanish and asked what I wanted. Per norm, I responded in English. Usually this is where the person behind the counter fluidly switches to English, and we have no issues. Not so much this morning.

Turns out the person working behind the counter spoke barely enough English to tell me that she couldn't speak English. Seriously? If you choose to live in this country without learning the language - your decision. Who am I to judge? HOWEVER, if you plan to work in this country at a job that requires you to interact with the public (i.e. Americans living in the country of their birth), I don't think it is too much to ask that you speak the language. I'm not asking for Shakespeare, but conversational English should be a prerequisite. If I moved to Germany, I would attempt to learn German before I went to work. Perhaps that is just me. Okay, I will step off my soap box now and go back to studying. Less grumpy me will hopefully show her face again soon.

OCD check

I used to laugh at my friends who cleaned up before the cleaning lady came over. . . now I totally get it. It is not just that you don't want someone to see how much of a slob you can really be when left to your own devices although that is a motivator. Mostly it is just that I want her to dust, mop and clean the showers. She shouldn't be wasting her time picking up my dirty laundry or loading my dishwasher. Those are the easy tasks that I can accomplish.

My behavioral concern is different. While I will now accept that it is "normal" behavior to clean for the cleaning lady, is it normal behavior to spend an hour after she leaves putting everything back where it belongs? I'm not talking about moving heavy pieces of furniture or even trash cans. I mean doing silly things like re-centering the candle on the table, or moving the picture an inch to the right, or re-stacking the magazines because they are no longer stacked exactly the way I had them.

I long ago accepted that I am a little Obsessive Compulsive, but always felt that I stopped short of disorder. Not so sure I still fall short. This can't be good - think I'll go wash my hands again.

La Gripe

The Miami word for cold is La Gripe. I like it. It sounds much more sinister than a common cold, and sinister is definitely what I had. Shortly after my last post, I spent 12 hours in the OR with a lung transplant. The next day I had a scratchy throat, but shrugged it off as no sleep. By Friday, I was officially sick. I had the fever, cough, chest congestion, runny nose whole shebang. There were even three days where I had no voice! As hard as that may be for you to imagine, it was even harder for me to live through.

The worst part was that all of my colleagues were in Toronto at the AATS. I had no choice but to come to work each day and actually work. The last 10 days will definitely not go into my highlight reel of favorite moments, but I survived (as thankfully did my patients). I still have a runny nose and an annoying cough, but I think the worse of La Gripe has past.

Now I have to face the terrible reality of my Thoracic Oral boards being only a month away. Time to buckle down and remember where the heart actually lives. I see a few more sleepless nights in my immediate future.

To all friends in Nashville, my thoughts and prayers have been, and will continue to be with you all.

Things I miss

Things have been a little hectic around here, but crazy in a good way. I did manage to have a great, albeit busy birthday yesterday. I am currently waiting to start a lung transplant. I won't complain because this is the longest I have been able to sit in my office in a couple of weeks.

As I am sitting hear ignoring the mountain of paperwork on my desk, I am reminded that it is spring. . . not so much by the weather here, but by a picture on CNN. Spring has always been my favorite season. I love the flowers, the weather, the promise of new beginnings. Back home, spring was easy to spot. The first sign is usually the daffodils poking up their perky little heads, tulips soon follow and then the azaleas and pear trees. The entire world soon becomes coated in a cheery shade of yellow (my mom doesn't so much love that part). The mornings start off with a bite of cold, but one knows that the sun will be shining by early afternoon. All is as it should be.

Dafodils and tulips don't grow here - it doesn't get cold enough for the bulbs in the winter. Azaleas and pear trees can't take the summers. The mangoes bloom, but not overtly lovely and the pollen can't be seen so much as felt. It never got cold, so you can't celebrate the warm quite the same way. Don't get me wrong, I like the winter, but must admit that I kind of miss the spring.


Since I am not sure when I will have time to blog again, belated birthday wishes to my friend Kris, happy birthday to sweet Grace, and early birthday wishes to my friends Beth and Sapna.

Livin' La Vida Loca

Somedays I think I have been transported to an alternative universe.

While on call this weekend, I went swimming in the Atlantic. I wore expensive sunglasses (something I always argued was a waste of money, and must now reluctantly admit to being useful) while lying on the sand studying for my boards.

I have a trainer and a Pilates instructor. I run - on purpose, and occasionally even well. I have completed two 5Ks, and am training for a half-marathon.

I find myself discussing weekend "getaway" trips to Aruba and Puerto Rico. I now automatically greet people in Spanish, and can hold my own pretty well conversationally.

Is this really an alternative universe, or just having a life? It has been so long since I had a life, I am not sure that I will recognize it when it happens.

Only me

I have spent all of my life until now in high pollen climates. North Georgia (where I spent the first 32 years of my life) is considered one of the worst areas in the country for pollen. I then moved to middle Tennessee - another hot spot. Philly has a shorter pollen season, but makes up for it by a higher number of pollens in the fall.

Did I have allergies while living in any of these places? Of course not. I waited until I moved to South Florida - a place touted as having some of the lowest pollen counts in the country. The place the doctor encourages you to visit in the spring to escape the pollen counts elsewhere. Proof positive that I am so far from normal we don't even share a zip code.

So wish I were kidding

I went home for Easter, and had a fabulous time. Will try to post pictures soon. It was actually quite hard to force myself back on that plane to Miami. Luckily, it has been an incredibly busy week, so no time to sit around feeling sorry for myself.

After a crazy day at work on Tuesday, I headed to the gym to meet my trainer - as I do every Tuesday night. However, this night was a bit different. I walked into the locker room, and it had been taken over by cheerleaders. So not kidding. Everywhere you looked, there was a 20 something year old woman with perfect bodies in some state of undress. While this may be every guy's dream, it is not exactly the dream of any woman I know.

They were at the gym to attend one of the dance classes. So as I am hurriedly trying to change into my gym clothes without exposing a single inch of my less than perfect body, I got to hear what 20 year old cheerleaders talk about in dressing rooms. I watched and listened as one after one, they stood in front of the mirror and pointed out their perceived flaws to each other. This halter makes my arms look big, can you believe how wide my hips are, my legs are huge in these tights, etc. etc. Turns out, they are not so much different than the rest of us.

It did make me wonder - is there a woman a live that is truly happy with her body?

Symphony and Seafood

Had another great weekend. May learn to like this place yet. Would be more convinced if it was pouring down rain today with tornado warnings. I thought I had traded tornadoes for hurricanes. No one said anything about having to deal with both.

Friday night I had tickets to the symphony. For reasons that aren't entirely clear to me, I watched the Cleveland symphony perform in Miami. There was also a techno music festival going on next door. It made for horrible traffic, but hilarious looking crowds. You had the well dressed symphony goers walking side by side with the pink/purple hair punk rockers. It was quite the sight. The symphony was truly amazing. Almost made me want to dust off my old piano.

Saturday was a lazy day for me. I slept in late, read for a bit, went to a Pilates class, and spent the afternoon catching up on Lost. Sunday afternoon brought the Seafood festival. I have been to many festivals in my life - corn, potatoes, watermelon, etc, but never one for seafood. It was great. I have never seen, smelled and tasted so much seafood in my life. They had tons of booths set up from on the local and best seafood places. The food was cheap and plentiful. It was held in a grassy park by the bay - picturesque. They also had local artists and activities set up for kids. Will definitely go back next year. They even had kettle corn - out of place maybe, but wouldn't be a festival without it.

All in all a great weekend.

Make that an Ark

Since moving to South Florida, I have been trying to find a friend with a boat. I want to head out to the open seas with the wind at my back, lie on the deck soaking up rays, or even try my hand at water skiing once again. I don't know what it is exactly about it, but I love the water. It relaxes me and makes me happy. We had a power boat when I was a kid, and my favorite vacations usually involved the week we spent camping at the lake with the boat. Why not buy a boat you ask? Time, expense and hassle. My solution - a friend who owns a boat and invites me out on it. I haven't been successful yet, but I am still looking.

I was starting to think a slight change of plans would be necessary as I headed out this morning. It rains a lot here, however it never seems to rain very hard or very long. You can usually wait 10-15 minutes and the sun is shining again. Not so much this morning. I have tickets to the symphony tonight, so I changed my work-out with my trainer to this morning. A couple of times on the drive to my gym, I was seriously worried about being swept to sea. At one point, I literally had water about 1/3 way up my door, and I drive an SUV! There were a couple of Porsches and a Ferrari sitting off the side of the road - I assume flooded. I eventually made it to both the gym and to work, but the flooding is fairly impressive. Forget the boat, I am looking for an ark.

I could learn to like this

Despite losing an hour of my weekend off, I must admit it was truly idyllic. The benefits of living in South Florida finally became truly evident to me this weekend. I went to bed Sunday almost liking Miami - which is a big step forward in our relationship.

Saturday began with my first ever 5K run. I finished MUCH slower than I would have liked, but I am giving myself a break since I actually finished it. The race was along Ocean Drive on South Beach. I had the Ocean on one side of me and shopping on the other - talk about living the dream. The weather was also cooperating - the rain from the day before had left behind clear blue skies with temps in the low 70's. After the race, I had my hair cut. This is perhaps the one dark spot on my weekend. I will just say that my stylist is trying to resurrect the pixie cut. I am truly ambivalent about it. Sometimes I look at it and think cute - sometimes I look at it and think OMG how short.

After the hair cut, I headed off for my Pilates class. For the first time in 6 weeks, I actually felt like I "got it". Pilates is much harder than I anticipated. It looks easy enough when other people do it, but I didn't appreciate how much ab work is involved. After Pilates, I had a shower, talked to a couple of friends, and then headed back out for Art and Design night in the Design District. It was more fun that I thought it would be, and I stumbled across an actual Christian Louboutin store. Talk about Art and Design - beauty personified. That store could spell serious trouble for my financial future.

Sunday was more low key. Church in the morning, and then plans to finally do my taxes. However, I concluded that it is absolutely impossible to pay taxes when it is 84 degrees with blue skies and a beach nearby. So, I put them off yet again and hung out on the beach for the rest of the afternoon. I went with a couple of residents from work. They were both trying to avoid getting sun while I was actively seeking it. Of course, I am as pale as ever, but it was still fun.

Yesterday was a LONG day of clinic, but I saw several patients who actually need operations. Always a good thing. Maybe I am finally settling into things here - now if only they don't close my hospital.

Hindsight 20/20

As you will recall, a large part of my job search was focused on location. I had better financial offers, but was hesitant to live in the Northeast long term. Looks like my personal comfort should have figured less into my decision making tree. Here are just a few of the headlines from around here:

http://www.wsvn.com/news/articles/local/MI144324/

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2010/03/10/jackson-health-miami-hosp_n_493096.html

http://www.miamiherald.com/2010/03/11/1525579_boss-fails-in-money-search.html

Death spiral, failure and insolvency - good news never seemed so far away.

Bad Omen?

I haven't mentioned my running much lately. Mostly because it has been going so well that I didn't want to jinx it. As I only have smart friends, I am sure you have all guessed that is no longer the case.

I have been running 3 times a week fairly regularly for a couple of months now. Prior to that, I had been doing the walk/run thing for a couple of months. Most of my runs are between 2-4 miles, but I have stretched it to 5 miles on the weekends a few times now. I refuse to lie and tell you that I feel great at the end of my runs, or even that I look graceful while doing it. (Unless you consider sweaty red faced people graceful.) I am still in search of that elusive "runner's high", but at least I no longer feel as if I need oxygen and an EKG at the end of a run.

I am running my first 5K this Saturday. Therefore, I was only planning to run 2.5 miles yesterday. I made it, but barely. I haven't had such a bad run in - well forever. All of my runs start as a test of wills - my body has to convince my brain that I am not going to die and to shut up and keep running. It takes almost a mile, but my body usually wins. My brain could not be silenced yesterday. It kept offering helpful insights about how humid and warm it was, or how strong the wind was blowing, or pointing out the horrible dead fish smell.

I am hoping this was just an exceptionally bad day. I'm forcing myself to get back on the saddle today for another 2.5 miles. Hoping this isn't an omen of things to come on Saturday.

Tall personality?

During my Pilates session yesterday, my instructor paused to readjust one of the machines. She made the statement that I was a little bit shorter than she, so she needed to lower the machine. As my trainer is about 5'10", I laughed and said the Cuban definition of little is different than the American one.

With a perplexed look, she asked: "what are you 5'6" or 5'7"?" After offering to make her an eye appointment, I responded that I am 5' 2 1/2" tall. She laughed and said she didn't believe me. Why anyone would lie about being shorter than they actually are is beyond me, but to appease her, I allowed her to measure me.

Much to my dismay - I hadn't grown at all. I still stand as short as ever. Her response - "it must be your personality. You seem so much taller than that."

Weekend Bender

Recovering this morning from the bender I went on over the weekend. By the end of last week, I felt that I should be wearing a black cloak and carrying a scythe. I gave bad news to everyone. I get that I operate on cancer, and bad news is part and parcel. However, usually I get to mix in a little hope with the bad news - not so much last week.

Despite being on call this weekend, and having to interview prospective fellows, I needed to unplug. Friday evening was a wash, I met with my trainer and then had to meet up with the interview candidates for a "social" event at a local hangout. Likewise, Saturday morning involved rounding and interviewing potential fellows. Finally able to bust out around 2 pm, and headed straight to the local mall.

Don't act surprised - it is common knowledge that shopping is how I unplug. I had a plan - at least initially. I am going home for Easter this year, so thought I would pick up a new dress for Easter Sunday. First stop - Ann Taylor. Found an adorable spring floral dress with matching cardigan. Even better - they were both on sale. Since I was "saving" money, I decided the two additional dresses and a couple of sweaters from the clearance rack were basically free. (I know - I know, but they really were good bargains and ADORABLE.)

A normal person would have then gone home, but I've never really understood why anyone wants to be normal. I needed shoes to go with my new Easter dress. Nordstrom just happened to be next door, and seemed entirely logical at the time. I browsed around in shoe Heaven for a while when the devil (dressed as a salesman) approached. I showed him the dress, and even showed him the shoe that I had decided upon. He disappeared into the Garden of Eden, and returned a few moments later with 5 bright shiny tempting apples.

The shoe that I wanted was not available in my size, he says, but he brought a few other options for me to try. I spent the next 30 minutes trying on shoes - each more gorgeous than the one before it. I didn't take all 5, but 3 of them really were just too cute to leave at the store. Since I was running out of hands, I headed for home. (I actually ended up back at a different mall that evening, but only for dinner and a movie.)

Sunday brought me back to the hospital. After finally breaking free sometime after noon, I decided to head to the gym for a work-out. As I am walking toward the gym, the sales lady at the boutique next door mentions what a great sale they are having today. I felt it would be rude to not a least check it out. Three dresses and a top later, I finally got my workout.

As I sat on my sofa surveying my bounty, I couldn't help but smile. I can't afford to have these weekends often, but every once in a while has to be cheaper than therapy.

Busted!

Conversation at work this morning:

My assistant: "Dr. Baxter, you look very nice today."

Me: "Thank you"

My assistant: "The other women {in the office} and I were just wondering - do you ever wear the same outfit twice?"

Me: "Very funny, I wear the same clothes all the time"

My assistant: "No, we have been watching. Other than scrubs, you haven't repeated since Christmas."

Me: "My name is Tammy Baxter, and I am a shopaholic"

Old fashioned - maybe

Okay, call me old-fashioned, but I don't get what kids are wearing these days. By kids, I should tell you, I mean the next generation of female physcians. If the only difference between your work attire and your club attire is the amount of make-up you are wearing - it is WRONG!!!!!

I may not approve, but I understand that "appropriate" attire for physicians is an evolving thing. Not my choice, but if you want to wear chinos or dark-washed jeans during the week, as long as you pair it with appropriate shoes and top - I may not like it, but I can live with it. When you wear hooker shoes, skirts that barely cover anything, and a glittery top, I think you might be missing the point.

The hospital, contrary to popular nursing belief, is not a place to pick up guys. There is no bar where you can "look" your way into free drinks. I personally would have a very hard time taking menu advice from these women - I certainly would struggle at the idea of my life being entrusted in their hands.

Okay - I'll step down from my soap box and let everyone return to their activities - for which I am confident you are all appropriately dressed.

A "Good" night's sleep

A lot is made in the news about the value of a good night's sleep. It is supposedly restorative to one's mental and physical well-being. Okay . . .I'll buy that most of the time, but something went wrong for me last night.

I went to bed feeling fine. I woke up 6 1/2 hours later feeling anything but great. My head hurts; my nose is running; my throat is sore; my chest is congested; and my whole body aches. Glad I didn't get the full 8 - no telling how bad I would feel.

Only in Miami

This morning in clinic, one of the nurses pulled me aside to ask me a question. Her question: "who did your breasts?" It took me a minute, but I was finally able to respond - "God with a little help from Victoria Secret."

What I can't decide is should I be flattered that she thought I had a nice pair, offended that she thought they were fake, appalled that she spent anytime thinking about them at all, or amused that only in Miami (and perhaps LA) is that considered a legitimate question.

My favorite thing

I always list the disadvantages of being a woman in a "man's" world. Today I thought I would focus on my favorite thing about being a woman in this world I inhabit. Low expectations. I am being completely sincere - and I will explain.

I spend most days dressed in scrubs, a hat, no make-up and no jewelry. The only "girly" thing about me - my cute pedicure that no one else can see. Occasionally (lately way less frequently than I should) I "dress up" - by that I mean I actually wear what most people would consider real work clothes. It is usually when I have a meeting or clinic days.

The only thing I have to do to elicit compliments about how nice I look - put on a dress and brush my hair. If I "go the extra mile" and throw in make-up and a pair of heels, the compliments get a little embarrassing. I have spent the entire day accepting compliments and laughing off jokes about my evening plans.

I would love to tell you that I deserve it, but alas, I do own a mirror. I am wearing a simple black/white sheath dress and a pair of 3 inch black heels - Jennifer Aniston I am not. It is simply the benefit of usually looking like crap - the bar seems to be lowered to a level that even I can step over.

You are joking right?

My second case was cancelled today. Why you might ask - I certainly did. My patient - who is currently admitted to the hospital - could not physically be brought to the operating room. The problem : He is in the oldest tower of the hospital. This particular tower only connects to the main towers of the hospital on the second floor. Still doesn't sound insurmountable? ALL of the elevators in that tower are currently broken.

I sit here more bemused than mad. It is truly so absurd that I can't even mount anger. I am assured that at least one of the elevators should be functioning by morning at which time we will try this again.

Profiled, Exposed, Analyzed and Jet-lagged

Whew!!! It has been a long week. When I last wrote, I was heading out to LA. It was quite the interesting trip. From a work perspective, the education was amazing. I really feel I learned something that I can apply in my practice to truly benefit my patients. From a life perspective, the education was eye-opening. Let me explain.

It started at the Miami airport on my way out of town. The TSA and I are old friends. I take off my shoes and jacket without being asked. I throw away my water bottle and though I personally think it is ridiculous - abide by the 3-1-1 rule. This time - a new request. I was asked to place ALL of my electronic items in a separate bin. Knowing better than to argue, I started rummaging for anything that had a battery. I am always spouting off about how much I hate technology and computers so surely this isn't going to be that bad. I pull out my Netbook, my iPhone, my iPod, my Nook, my Garmin GPS, and let's not forget my camera. Are you kidding me? I had officially been profiled a geek. The only thing missing was my pocket protector. After this completely demoralizing experience, I was off to Cali-for-ni-a.

Once in LA, we head off to this swanky hotel in Beverly Hills called the SLS. The lobby decor should have been my first clue, but am not sure anything could have prepared me for my room. The hotel must have saved a fortune on paint costs. Every wall in the place was covered by a mirror. Even the TV was in a mirrored wall. Only the ceiling and the windows were spared a reflection of me. We were meeting for dinner that evening, so I decided to jump in the shower and wash off the airport smell. Did I mention that the mirror thing carried over into the bathroom and shower? There was a slate floor with one 12 inch piece of slate going up the side of the wall - the rest ALL mirrors. I have now seen views of myself that no girl should really ever see. I know get why everybody is thin in LA. Who has any appetite after seeing all that?

Dinner and the hospital the next day were good. I met the other Thoracic surgeons there, and talked to a Covidien representative from St. Louis. I was of course the only female, but that part was not surprising. At dinner Wednesday night, I got the "are you married" question. Very standard question - usually I say "No. How about you?". The conversation quickly shifts back to the asker and we carry on without a hitch. This night was different. I got to listen as 5 men (4 of which had only met me the night before) discussed my singledom. They made some valid points, and some hilarious ones. Their conclusion - I have control issues that prevent me from opening up and letting someone else have the ability to hurt me. Scary that they figured it out that quickly.

I had another day in the OR on Thursday and then flew home. I was able to catch an earlier flight, but not sure the red-eye could have been any worse. I simply don't handle time changes very well. My body gets confused and goes into melt-down. I worked on Friday - if you call sitting at my desk with blurry eyes looking at a computer - work. The weekend was not much better. I napped Friday when I first got home and then couldn't go back to sleep till ridiculously late. I spent all weekend trying to get back on a "normal" sleep cycle.

I am now back in the routine of work, but I have a new mission. I must become less predictable, or at the very least - less easy to read. Oh, and time to get rid of a few electronics.

Heading West

Although not a huge fan of long plane flights, I am really excited about my trip tomorrow. I am flying the six hours to LA tomorrow to attend a Thoracic course in Beverly Hills. It is not the location (although time has been set aside for shopping) or the course (although I am looking forward to it) that excites me. I am simply ecstatic to escape Miami for a little while.

I know it is probably not a good sign that this early in my career here I am this excited to leave, but nonetheless that is the truth. I am sure it is a combination of many things, not least of which was a tough week last week, but a little distance between me and my job at the moment is much desired. Who knows, maybe I will bump into George Clooney, he will fall hopelessly in love and whisk me away to Italy to live happily ever after. Don't take my fantasies - they are all I've got at the moment.

0-2

I was in the operating room for 16 hours yesterday. Unfortunately, I only performed two cases. I would like to report that at least all ended well. One has already been sent to the ICU, and the other one will most likely be there by morning.

Bad things happen. Why do they always seem to happen in bunches? Would it hurt to spread the badness around a little more?

Just a random thought

When I was a kid, my dad's best friend was (and still is) a mechanic. His daughters were about our age and we spent tons of time hanging out with them. He is this big burly guy who loved to toss us around as kids, and he and my dad could always be counted on for a game of ball in the yard.

Often times, he would drop by after work on his way home to talk to my dad about something. During those visits, I remember thinking in the bratty way of 6 year old little girls, that although he was a lot of fun, I never wanted a job where I had to wear a uniform with my name on it or where my hands got so dirty.

This morning as I pulled on my white coat over my scrubs I happened to look down. . . right there over my pocket - my name. We won't even talk about what I get on my hands sometimes.

Cravings

Why do I only find myself wanting something once it is no longer available to me? What does it say about my personality that the minute I can't have it - I convince myself I can't live without it? Nothing good I am sure.

To what do I speak? Meat. I am doing a little veggie experiment. For the next four weeks, I have sworn off beef, chicken, pork and fish. Why? Turns out, I don't actually eat very much meat - at least the quality stuff that most would consider meat. Animals consumed in my diet come from the freezer or thinly sliced from the deli counter. It seemed logical that since I was already half way there - to attempt to go all the way.

I am also hoping to spice things up a bit. My diet has become incredibly boring. I have about 5 things that through some combination supply me with 3 "square" meals a day. That can't be healthy! Before last night, I honestly don't remember the last time I tried out a new recipe.

I keep reading all these stories about the health and environmental benefits of vegetarianism. Technically vegan is supposedly the best, but I just can't wrap my brain around the idea of giving up dairy. Perhaps I am just not meant to lose those last 10 pounds, and will just have to take the train to work. At least this is a starting point. All journeys begin with the first step. My road is just currently cluttered with images of cheeseburgers and fried chicken.

No Judging!

Okay - I am about to make a confession that will have you scratching your head or even chuckling in disbelief. I only ask that before you completely write me off as crazy, pathetic or just plain sad that you have to remember that I have never claimed to be normal.

My confession - I spent an entire hour at the grocery store today and had a blast. Not amusement park fun, but a truly enjoyable time. I had forgotten how much I really enjoy Whole Foods. I shopped there almost exclusively in Nashville, but in Philly the Trader Joe's was more convenient and won out most of the time. Here there is a Publix on every corner. I have nothing against Publix, but there is nothing quite like the Whole Foods experience.

Whole Foods makes me wish I was a Foodie. I wander around, explore, and dream of fantastic feats of gastronomic prowess. Only at Whole Foods do vegetables sound so exciting, fruit looks so sexy, and spices so exotic. Now I have no idea what one does with Kabocha squash or nori, but don't you want to find out? They even turn packaging into pieces of art. Have you walked down the cooking oil aisle recently? The olive oil containers alone could decorate a shelf in a museum.

I know you are all thinking that I have finally fallen off the precipice, and need to seek professional help, but as I sit here typing the most amazing smells are arising from my kitchen. Most of the ingredients I can even pronounce.

Platitudes and other dangers

Be wary of cliches. This is my latest lesson learned. Cliche is defined as a trite expression whose effectiveness has been lost due to overuse. Such things as "the grass is always greener", "it is what it is", and the one that has bit me recently "be careful what you ask for".

I have been whining recently about wanting to be busier. Let us just say that I have learned my lesson these last two weeks. I don't know if I have ever been this tired. I thought last week was bad with four emergency cases and operating late. This week comes in a close second. My patient roster has exploded, and I have been operating like a mad woman. So why am I complaining? I'm not really, it is just that I am desperately in need of a nap. At least "there is an end in sight", I have the weekend off.

"Can't I have my cake, and eat it too?" Oh well, "this too shall pass."

Immersed or Drowned?

I finally decided to stop whining about not knowing enough Spanish, and actually start trying to learn. I bought the Rosetta Stone CD's because - if you believe what you read - they have the highest success rate. Supposedly their success is based on the concept of immersion. The theory is that you "immerse" yourself in the language thus learning to think, read, write and function in the language as opposed to translating from one's native tongue to the new language.

Sounds great in theory, but like many things theory is easier than reality. I am on my third lesson, and haven't heard the first word of English yet. I had to choose my native language at the beginning, so I know there must be some English in here somewhere, but I haven't found it yet. Even the instructions were in Spanish. I have spent a lot of time so far looking at three pictures and trying to figure out which of the things that I am looking at is the caballo. Sure it was easy enough to figure out that the picture of the coffee must be the cafe, and that leche is milk, but who knew cielo was sky.

Yo Se'. Yo Se'. I will be patient.

The Good, The Bad, The Ugly?

It's only Wednesday, and I am exhausted. It has been a busy few days. I will give you a short recap:

The Good: The STS (Society of Thoracic Surgeons) is in Ft Lauderdale this week. I have been too busy at work to attend the meeting, but have "managed" to find time to have dinner with some friends and colleagues. It is always good to catch up, and reminisce.

Most of all, I enjoyed the physical contact. Everyone take the shocked and disapproving looks off their faces, I mean nothing risque by this. I am a Southern girl - we are tactile people by nature. Hugging comes just as naturally to me as dropping g's and pronouncing tire with three syllables. I love a good hug. My favorite, the bear hug that lifts you completely off your feet. No one in Miami hugs. . . or gives a decent handshake for that matter. (I could easily go off on a tangent here about wimpy handshakes, but I will resist.) Needless to say, I got in quite a few good hugs this week.

The Bad: Holes in places where they shouldn't be. My patients have all sprung leaks lately. I operated late into the evening on Thursday for a tracheal perforation. Monday it was essentially a lung perforation, and I was here ridiculously late last night for an esophageal perforation. Enough already - free air is actually quite expensive, stressful, and tiring.

The Ugly: Conjunctivitis. Somewhere between Monday night and Tuesday morning, my eyes decided red was the new black. They also tried to seal themselves off with a nice thick layer of crust and goo. Not sure how I got it, but no question some version of it I have. The hardest part is the not rubbing. It is better today, or at least easier to open my eyes this morning. Hoping it is completely gone soon.

I have only one case this afternoon. Hoping for an early day and a nap. I may seriously be too old for this lifestyle.

Hope springs eternal

Hope springs from a new survey making the headlines yesterday. In a recent study, 22% women now earn more than their husbands. The number was 4% around the time that I was born. Reportedly not only is it now acceptable for men to "be okay" with their women working, they can even be proud if she makes a good salary. Welcome to the 21st century!

Why does this give me hope? I have enough "baggage" to bring on the journey of a relationship. If I can leave the salary suitcase at home, it will hopefully make the trip a little easier to navigate.

Cancer

I spend more time than I would like having to tell patients they have cancer. On good days, it starts with "you have lung cancer", but finishes with "but it looks as if we found it early enough to help". Today was not one of the good days. I am sure there has to be a way to tell a 50 year old person and their family that they have an incurable, terminal disease without devastating them, but I haven't found it yet.

My least favorite question - how long do I have? I expend a great deal of energy dodging that question. For starters, people don't come with expiration dates. I can quote literature about what the average life expectancy is for someone with certain stages of lung cancer, but we, despite all our wisdom and tests, have absolutely no idea how that number pertains to the individual patient in front of us. Secondly, navigating the tight rope between hope and false hope is difficulty enough. Putting a time limit on the situation never helps.

Obviously not having a good day professionally. Ironically, personally I found out today that my own biopsy results are benign. At least I saved one of my colleagues "the talk".

Time Out

The "Time Out" technique wasn't around when I was a kid. My mom had her own version - it was called my room. However, I think this was more to get me out of her hair than anything. It wasn't truly punishment - I would always go there and read. As usually, I am getting side-tracked. Back to the point . . .

I am putting myself in Time Out for bad attitude. For reasons that I won't even bother to go into, I haven't been in the chippiest of moods lately (and I am inventing words). Today, I seemed to reach my breaking point. It occurred shortly after the second Latino male in as many hours couldn't help but tell the poor helpless "mamasita" how to do her job. Thankfully, for the sake of my employment, when I get TRULY angry, I get REALLY quiet. Let's just say that you can hear a pin drop.

If you need me, I will be sitting on the naughty mat. What's the rule - one minute per year of age? I don't think 36 minutes will be long enough.

End in sight

I know that I get no sympathy when I complain about how cold it is here, so forgive me this post. It has been cold here. Reportedly this is the coldest winter in 75 years. At the risk of making it all about me - why does that statement seem to follow me wherever I move? Is mother nature trying to toughen me up?

Yes, I remember living in Philly. Yes, I remember needing six layers of clothes to walk out the door. Is it that cold here? No. The difference - I was expecting it there. A lot should be said for expectations. Two days before it "turned cold" here, I was wearing flip-flops on the beach. Sorry, but I am old, my brain can't adjust that fast.

Thankfully our long cold winter is almost over. Weather forecast for this weekend - 80 degrees and sunny.

High score - Bad

I have never been good at games where the object was to score low. It just seems contrary to me. Therefore, I long ago wrote off golf and Hearts as fun games for me. I am now officially writing off mammograms also. Turns out, I don't score low enough to play them well either.

Explanation: Mammograms are scored on a scale of 0 to 6. Zero shouldn't really count - basically it means we screwed up and didn't get good enough pictures. One is normal and 6 is breast cancer. My score - a four. Long story short, they see something on X-ray and ultrasound that none of us can feel. My only risk factor is the fact that I have never put my uterus to "good use". Sure I can go out to dinner whenever I want without worrying about a babysitter , and I don't have to put anyone through college, but I have increased my risk of cancer. I guess everything does come with drawbacks.

They think it is probably benign, but feel there are two too many qualifiers in that statement and wanted a biopsy which I had done this morning. The kicker - it takes over a week to get the results back. I'm going to go run up the score on a game of Spades or tennis.

Need a new vice

So I am currently in search of a new vice. Why you might ask. Simple really - I have been forced to give all of mine up. As I wrote earlier, my doctor has forced me to give up caffeine. My trainer has forced me to give up sugar, refined carbs and sluggishness. My job prevents me from taking up smoking or drugs. My moral center prevents my becoming a slut. What else is left?

Isn 't at least one vice needed? Necessary even? The dictionary defines a vice as a moral weakness. Isn't a little weakness okay. Being strong all the time has to be exhausting. Vices keep you grounded. They remind you that you are human. (I am a surgeon - a Thoracic surgeon - we occasionally need reminding that we are not The Higher Power.) Vices remind you that you are a work in progress, and never a finished product. Vices give you a place to turn when you are stressed, anxious, depressed or even happy.

I have been thinking a lot about vices today. Mostly missing mine.

Oh no she didn't

In my ongoing effort to improve my longevity, I saw the doctor today for a "check-up". I was initially quite smug. I was able to brag that I am working out with a trainer, and have restarted running. I wasn't thrilled with the number on the scales, but it was a perfectly acceptable number.

We discussed the blood work that she wanted to order, scheduling a mammogram and the gyn that she recommends. I thought I was going to get a nice pat on the back about how well I have cared for myself. Then, she does the physical. I have fibrocystic changes in my breasts. This was not news to me, I have always had them. Medically, it is not that huge of a deal. My doctor however, thinks that we should try to "fix" them. Her prescription - give up caffeine.

Yep, you heard me correctly. She recommended that I give up all caffeine. I am not a big fan of patients who come to see me, and then ignore everything I tell them, but surely asking me to give up caffeine crossed the line. My face must have said what I was biting my tongue to hold. She looked at me after her "announcement", smiled, and said initially just cut it down to 1 cup a day. I'll try. (Since Diet Coke comes in a bottle, it shouldn't count for my total right?)

Good Riddance 2009

I can't say that I was all that sorry to bid adieu to 2009. I can only hope that 2010 is less stressful. In the spirit of the Season, I decided to make my New Year's resolutions. Here's hoping I can keep them past Friday.

#1 - Time management - Fact: I work a lot of hours. However, so do lots of people. They still make time to have a life. It is time that I stop blaming my job, and learn how to better manage it.

#2 - Patience - I have never in my life possessed patience, and as I get older I only seem to get worse. I don't want it now - I want it yesterday. This holds for all aspects of my life. Poets write that anticipation has its own reward. It is time for me to find out.

#3 - Quitting - I tend not to stick to things in which I don't excel. Be it tennis, painting, speaking Spanish, dating or running, if I don't immediately conquer it, I abandon it. It is past time for me to recognize that some things come through hard work and multiple failures - not natural ability.

#4 - Accepting praise - For someone with such a sizable ego, I accept praise very poorly. I usually make excuses or give credit to someone else. Time to learn to say a heartfelt thank you and move on.

#5 - Venturing out of my box - I tend to avoid things that make me uncomfortable or that are not familiar. I like to stay firmly in my comfort zone. I am such an adrenaline junky at work - time to take a little of that on the road.

As you have probably deduced, my resolutions have a general theme. It all goes back to learning to embrace my life where it currently exists, and stop waiting to live it until some future perfect date.