Winter Time Blues

Leaving Miami might not have been my brightest move ever.

Yes it is wonderful being close to my family. It is great being able to see my best friends and the kids on a random Tuesday. I even recognize - despite the current state of unsettledness - how great it is to be able to afford a house and shoes.

However, I am not a fan of winter. It's not the cold. (I have an enormous amount of coats, gloves and scarves - especially considering I have spent all but 12 months of my life living below the Mason-Dixon.) It's the lack of sunshine and daylight. Nashville is at the Eastern edge of Central time. This means that it starts getting dark here around 4:45 in the afternoon. Therefore, unless I leave work in the middle of the afternoon, by the time I get home, it feels like bed time - even though the clock may only say 6:30. This leads to an entire week going by with my accomplishing NOTHING outside of work. Throw in back to back weekends of crazy call, and I am down for the count.

Okay, enough whining. I will figure this out. Perhaps I can start getting up at 4:30 and get things accomplished then - the sun comes up by 5 here so it is at least light. Or perhaps I will just keep thinking of solutions.

Home Sweet Home

Yesterday was punch list day for my new house. For those of you, like me, who have no idea what that means, allow me to explain. During a punch list, one walks through one's soon to be purchased home with a roll of blue painter's tape. One then marks every imperfection that one sees regardless of how small, and the builder then fixes it. Basically, an OCD girls dream. Although at one point I was fairly certain they were going to take my tape away due to overuse - it actually went pretty well. There are only two "real" issues with the house both of which seem like easy fixes - if one is a plumber and an electrician.

All of that being said, it means that move in day is rapidly approaching. This weekend as a matter of fact. Although the spector of closing on Friday still has me somewhat petrified, I am starting to get really excited about moving into this house. Let's just hope the excitement wins out over the commitment issues. Hopefully pictures soon to follow.

Thank You Mother Nature

Started this week, like many weeks, determined to get back into a health work out pattern. Mother Nature must know how desperate things are getting because she threw me a bone - temperature in Nashville on this end of July day - perfect 82 degrees.

Warp Speed Ahead

When I decided to embark on building a house, everyone kept warning me about what a drawn out process building can be. They encouraged me not to be upset with delays, and that I could take it to the bank that I would miss my closing deadline. These predictions were always told with a horror story from someone's own personal experience.

Therefore, in my head, I was moving into this new house of mine next year. Imagine my surprise and immediate heart palpitations when my builder informed me the other day that we are about one month ahead of schedule! They painted my entire house this week - inside and out!! We started talking about the trim guy!!!

I thought it was common knowledge that I have commitment issues - you can't move things up like this on me. I thought the building process was stressful - the actual idea of committing to a morgage - now that's real stress.

Construction Crazy

Allow me to go on record as saying that I love my General Contractor. He is fabulously attentive and responsive. He has a certain attention to detail that can only truly be appreciated by a fellow member of the OCD club (and we all know my dues are well paid up there). My "allowances" are top notch which has done wonders for keeping me on budget, and he has been receptive and encouraging to any suggestions or changes that I have brought up. He believes in "building homes not houses", and really wants my personality to be reflected in our finished product.

All of that being said, please remind me to never build again. Building, even with a wonderful contractor, budget and good weather is STRESSFUL, and don't let anyone try to convince you otherwise. I have found myself obsessing over ridiculous details that I would never have noticed in a home that I was thinking about purchasing. However, when building, these details become things for which I lose sleep (a high cost for someone who spent 10 years as a surgical resident).

Have you ever walked into a tile store and looked around? It's not as simple as knowing your color scheme which I naively thought. One has to decide natural stone vs ceramic or porcelain. Shape and size factor in to the overall look. What pattern or style should the tile be laid? Are you kidding me????? Quick - can you tell me what color the grout is in your bathroom? I can't, but I have now spent entire hours of my life (which I can not get back) discussing "different, but complementary" grout colors on the floor vs the shower tile.

I am still having nightmares about chrome, brushed nickel vs oil rubbed bronze finishes - three concepts that until recently did not have meaning in my vocabulary. Entire websites are devoted to which is best and if they can be mixed. Please explain to me why one really needs an entire room of faucet fixtures from which to choose? My neck still hurts from the hours spent looking up for the "perfect" light fixtures.

Please don't remind me of the entire afternoon of my life spent at the cabinet makers. Did you know that you have to actually go to a granite yard to pick your slab? Even within the same color, the slabs differ so you have to pick which pattern most appeals to you. The same goes for marble, and I now know more about the care of quartz than any girl ought to know.

All of that being said, I am assured the "tough" decisions are almost finished. I only have to pick the stain for the wood floors and the wall colors. However, I am now being told I have to meet the electrician for a walk through regarding switches and outlets. I also have to meet the sound guy - seriously I have a sound guy??

Hopefully this house is going to turn out beautifully because I am fairly certain that I am going to end up to traumatized to ever want to move again.

Perspective

So my weekend hasn't exactly gone as planned. I spent 14 hours at the hospital yesterday, and am still here today waiting on a family to arrive so that we can withdraw care of their loved one. I would normally whine about how many hours that I have spent in the hospital the last two days, and how many sick patients that I have treated in the last two days, but I am waiting on a family to withdraw care of their loved one, so no whining for me.

Motivation

Is it possible that one is born with a limited amount of motivation, and once it's gone it's gone? Up until several months ago, I would have described myself as a highly motivated person. I currently resemble that person not at all. I currently resemble a couch potato - something that I have never been despite my love of french fries. Did I use up my supply? Is there a store where one can purchase extra? I have been searching high and low for my motivation. I seem to locate it for a few hours, but then it escapes again. I don't recall it being this slippery previously. Perhaps I need to forget about my motivation, and count on my need for order. If I start organizing my life in a more positive way, perhaps I will stumble across my motivation somewhere along the way. Let this be a lesson to all out there - motivation seems to have a limited supply.

Body Run Amok

My body has run amok. I'm not talking about a few unwanted hairs or some emotional lability - I'm talking full on anti-survival of the fittest. When pressed, I must admit it has been going on for a while, but recent events have made me acutely conscious of how far from "normal" I currently reside.

To start near the beginning, it is no secret to my closet, that I have struggled with my weight. Despite losing a large amount of weight during residency, and keeping it off for over 7 years, the last two years I have fought the scale. I'm talking a full on knock-down drag-out fight. I ran like a maniac, worked out with a personal trainer, swam, walked, spun, pilated, yogaed and tried every "lose weight quick diet" on the planet. All of the "tricks" that worked in the past quit working, and despite how hard I exercised, the scale did not budge. So I did the only sensible thing and quit working out. It worked - not in a good way, but the scale did move.

At my last physical, not only was my weight up, so was my cholesterol, triglycerides and blood pressure.

I blamed my job, my stress level and my crazy "life".

I changed my job, my stress level and my crazy "life" - but the scale still didn't move.

A few months ago, a friend of mine had approached me about the Biggest Loser Ranch. She asked me if I would be willing to "keep her company". The first couple of days on the ranch, I truly felt ill. I was tired, grumpy, sleepy, and had a headache. I blamed the lack of caffeine - those Mormons and their clean living. I blamed the altitude. I was so focused on blaming, that I almost missed the fact that by the end of the week, despite a VERY active schedule, I felt fantastic, and I was sleeping like a baby.

I wasn't so focused on blame that I didn't pick up on the fact that within a week of coming home, I felt tired again. Could it really be the caffeine? With not a little misgiving, I gave it up. Still had no energy. Whew - that wasn't it. Started looking around, and began reading a lot about the evils of sugar. Hmmm - could that be it? I did a sugar detox for 10 days, and had to admit I did feel better. However, avoiding sugar is hard! Especially when convenience is important to you. I decided that if I tried for "sugar lite" it would be better than nothing - right?

And then my "skinny" aunt had a heart attack, and I ended up back in a doctor's examining room.

She's fine. Thankfully. However, she ended up with a stent in her main coronary artery. The lesion which is known in my world as the "widow maker", because people who possess it often die from it before they get to the hospital.

While home visiting her and my mom for Mother's day, I was stung on my foot by a honey bee. (I know exactly what stung me because I killed it shortly after the event.) Having grown up in the country with a distaste for shoes (for the record, this time I was wearing) and a love of the outdoors, this was not my first enocunter with a stinging insect. I can't say that prior stings are fond memories, but they never slowed me down for long. By Sunday, my entire foot was swollen, and by Monday morning, my leg was swollen to mid-calf, and now my foot was a redish-purple color. Clearly something was awry.

One of the advantages of being in healthcare is knowing how to work the system. I was in a PCP's office at 9 am to have things checked out. A dose pack of steroids later, my foot although still purple at the site, has returned to a normal size.

It is the steroid dose pack that has me concerned. Our bodies are amazingly complex, but for almost every reaction there is a counter reaction designed to start shortly after the first reaction to stop the first reaction from going too far. Our body spends most of it's time and energy balancing the yin and yang. It is insulin vs glucagon. It is bleeding vs clotting. It is an ingenious system really.

Clearly my bodies pro-inflammatory and anti-inflammatory pathways are no longer in balance. My body needed the ultimate anti-inflammatory medication to halt its reaction. It was not capable of keeping it's response under control. I am by no means anti-Western medicine or pharmaceuticals. I think medications are good, necessary and have saved or prolonged millions of lives. However, I don't want them to do things that my body should be able to accomplish on its own. Why is my body so revved up from an inflammatory standpoint that it can't stop itself? Is sugar the cause as so many books, reports and documentaries are currently suggesting?

I'm not sure, but it is time to find out. It's no longer about fitting into my "skinny" clothes. It's about avoiding the doctor's office.

Change of Pace

I'm now settled here in Nashville. Some parts of my move have gone better than I could have imagined. Some parts I hope to quickly forget. However, now that I am here and settled, it's time to start having a life. After all that was my excuse for moving up here.  

As much as I would love to sit on my couch and have a life come knocking at my door, I recognize that is unlikely to happen. Unfortunately, it does not necessarily follow that I know exactly how to obtain said life. Therefore, I am hoping to stumble across one while I accomplish a few personal goals that I have decided upon. The goals are meant to be fluid over time, and I plan to transition this blog to a place to keep me responsible.  A place for tracking both success and failures.

I am making the goals with intent. I don't want them vague and/or unable to obtain, nor do I want to overwhelm myself with a long to do list.  Which itself satisfies my first goal - set more realistic expectations.

I'm trying to set my goals in four broad categories:  physical health, mental health, financial health, and my outside the box or something that scares me health.

I'm already off to a good start.

My physical health goal for now is simply to get back into the habit of working out.  I've divided this into two steps. The first was consistently training again which I've accomplished. Step two involves running which I'm still working on motivation.

My mental health goal is a consistent monthly "spa" treatment. This month I'm going for a massage. I have one scheduled on Saturday.

My financial health goal involves retirement planning. I have already hired a financial consultant, and we are working on consolidating my retirement accounts and maximizing my returns.

My outside the box goal is one I'm still working out. I've got a few ideas, but need to do a little more research.

Stay tuned.