Loosened Associations

Jiggity Jog

2010-02-22T05:36:00.002-05:00

I am home again. After 26 hours of traveling with minimal sleep, I woke up at 5:30 this morning wide awake after about 10 hours of sleep (wondering where all the roosters and barking dogs are), so am embarking on my day. Unfortunately, my brain is really not working, so I'm not going to attempt to tell any stories at this moment, but when I'm function above basic consciousness, I will post more. Glad to be home!

Ok. I lied. Quick story :) One morning I awoke to the usual roosters. The dogs next door had been barking and howling since about 3 am. There were the sounds of small children playing and walking on the road outside our walls. As I lay listening to the sounds, another joined the ranks. A car rolled by blasting Cyndi Lauper's "Time after Time." It's a fascinating world sometimes...

Still a liar

2010-02-08T04:23:00.002-05:00

Glenda's adventures were far shorter than planned dso she is already back and I am leaving my internet haven. I at least have an adapter that will work at the centre, but no excuse to stay and use the internet. Will check in later!

2010-02-08T03:18:00.002-05:00

Someone is still playing games with my internet access. I had no access over the weekend, but planned to come to the church to work on my presentation (Read: check my email while working on my presentation) today, so I was being patient. Today I arrive and the office where the magical adapter for my plug (none of the 4 adapters I purchased actually fit the flipping swazi outlets)resided was locked. So we plan to save my powerpoint on a memory stick and let me use a computer here. But no one had a memory stick. So they found me another adapter. Success!!! Except it is broken. Really, who is toying with me?!? But they just found one that worked. I am hooked up for the next few hours. Weeee!!!!! Must make sure to get to that presentation, though....

Things continue to go well here. This past week, I had an opportunity to visit Mawelawela, the only women's prison in the country. Were it not for the razor wire and gray tunics, I would have mistaken the place for a lovely retreat center located in a green valley and filled with quaint little cottages. I didn't have an opportunity to speak to the women individually, but did share a brief word with them (since when do I stand in front of 60 people and talk without wetting myself and running away?). Yeah. God is good. I will visit the men's prison at Matsapha on Tuesday and have more of an opportunity to walk through the prison and speak with the men. They have asked me to ask for a transfer to come work in the prisons here. :P

Life continues to go well. We have had maybe 2 sunny days since I last wrote. They were hot, but nice. Last night I was getting ready for bed and saw something large and moving on my wall and was momentarily disturbed, but was relieved to find it to be a little tiny lizard and not a bug. I also stepped on a lizard the size of a squirrel in the yard this week. I think we were mutually disturbed by that one.

I had the great honor of being told I had a "swazi stomach" after consuming corn on the cob from the garden with no ill effects. It has been a great relief not to have to pay too close of attention to what water I am utilizing, ice, etc. It is also strange to note that despite eating an average of 4 meals a day (breakfast, tea break, lunch, and dinner), frequently with fried chicken, I seem to be losing weight. I guess it is the lack of wine, soda (though I do procure the occasional coke), and candy.

Every Sunday, we have to walk the trash up to the dump site. I would estimate it is about a mile's walk each way. Nokwanda (15), Celiwe (14), and I lug the wheelbarrow up there. I recently have been getting a lot of "Hey white girl!" One man told me to get into his truck but my ignorance of Siswati allowed me to walk on unalarmed. We also get a lot of amusement and comments when we walk back, because I always push the empty wheelbarrow back, which seems to amuse the locals. I keep meaning to take my camera, because it is a beautiful walk, even with the rubbish in tow.

Glenda continues to whisk me away for some weekend time. She is really quite lovely and has been very kind to me while I have been here. She lives on the side of a mountain, and I love sitting out on her veranda and staring at the mountains across the valley. I can feel so at peace just looking out there. The ladies at the centre have started making fun of me for the pictures Im taking of the sky.

Ok. Im going to work on my presentation some more. May add more later.

Proof of life!

2010-01-31T05:54:00.002-05:00

Still here. Barely. There seems to be a fun phenomenon whereby when it rains for 6 days straight as it did this week (thank God for the sun that finally made it's first appearance today since last Sunday), something electrical gets flooded such that you get shocked every time you grab a faucet. It started while I was in the shower, and I couldnt turn off the water until I got out of the shower and used a toothbrush to do so. The girls at the centre are all like "this happens all the time, we just go on as usual." So maybe I appeared a bit hypochondriacal when I forbade them all to take showers this morning until everything could be sorted out. Eeish.

Also, I am not sure I'd ever cry over the internet, but yesterday, after a 5 minute stent on Wednesday where I was simultaneously required to be polite to the people letting me use their internet, I ventured to the internet cafe yesterday. Super fast at first, and Glenda had left me for 2 hours, so I had plenty of time to catch up with everything. Woot!!! Except...after 12 minutes the connection was lost. So after waiting another 30 in hopes it would be restored, I wandered around the little mall (where the superspar, the pizza place, and "Ackerman's" were) for the remainder of the time. I was warding off grumpiness, thinking of all I had to be thankful for, and kept an eye out for Lindiwe (just in case she wandered through..right). But when I got home, all of the homesickness which was covered over by the novelty of being in this lovely place broke through, and I cried. Then I took a shower, got nearly electrocuted and took a nap. Luckily when I awoke, Thobile had returned from Mbabane with a coke and a sandwich for me. Coke makes everything better. We watched Mamma Mia for the second time this weekend, then watched a Hillsong DVD to which her two boys danced like maniacs, and by the end of the evening, I was feeling much less depressed.

Church is at the Potter's Wheel church, which is fabulous. Their worship band is great, and it is all pretty simple and straight forward. They were complaining that it was not finished yet, but the lack of carpet or other trappings really makes things feel more raw and human to me. I love it.

What else? I am counseling counselors this week. Should be great fun, then a two day workshop for various members of society that deal with different aspects of abuse. I love public speaking, so filling 8 hours should be a blast! Uhh.... Hmmm...

Ok, well I know this is brief, but Glenda is letting me use her computer again despite having used all her bytes (as she put it "i will open my cold, mean heart") so I dont want to abuse. I miss you folks (the coke was a bandaid, but I recongnize the lingering homesickness). But despite my dreams I keep having that I come home too early and then realize Im supposed to still be in Africa and am trying desperately to get back quickly, I also want to enjoy every minute that I am here. But I hope it will not be so long between posts for the whole month. Over and out.

p.s. I realize there was a lot of negative above. that was mostly yesterday. overall, things are still quite wonderful!

Im still alive!!!

2010-01-23T05:17:00.004-05:00

Dont let the silence fool you. I am still alive and well! Internet has just been tricky. I took a kombi to Mbabane on Thursday (details omited here for the peace of certain potential readers) to use the internet, but because it was so overcast, I was able to check only 3 emails in my 50 minutes in html mode, and facebook and blogging were right out.

As of yesterday I felt truly settled in. As I sat in my PJs watching a horrid movie (called Tribulation, with Gary Busey) with Make Thobile, her two sons, Samu (9), and Aki (5) and the 4 girls who are currently in the program, eating popcorn and peanuts, I had to stop and ponder the fact that I was in a a foreign country half way around the world. It all felt too normal.

Of course much is not normal. We leave the windows and doors open all day, which I love. A breeze blows through, which is good, seeing as how it was 35 C the first day I got here. The food is good, though I think Thobile is trying to fatten me up, as I seem to be eating 4 meals a day instead of 3. Meat and boiled vegetables, but they have all been good. Praise God for galvanizing my GI tract, as I have had no "runny tummy" despite having some ice and fresh fruits. We wash the dishes with bar soap and the flies are expertly swatted with a kitchen towel. My bathroom has no light so at night I shower in the dark in a stall shower that only has only a half a wall, so it is an art to shower without soaking the entire bathroom. And these are only the differences inside the walls of the centre.

The centre strikes me as a cross between a summer church camp and an inpatient adolescent psych unit. There are 4 girls there now, ranging from 14 to 21. They stay for 8 months to complete the program, and some stay on for safety reasons. They have very hard stories, but they are beautiful and gifted girls. I feel priveledged to be able to hear their stories and lend some help. I have been surprised how open they have been with me, me being a complete stranger and foreigner and whatnot. I live in the small 2 bedroom staff house in the centre, inside a security wall. I am going to ask Glenda if I can venture out to walk in the neighborhoods during the day. The land is so beautiful. The contrast of the poverty in the midst of paradise is so strange. It is hard to put myself in the shoes of the people here, to think that this is their world, the only one they know.

I love that the center is a Christian-oriented facility. We start and end each day with chapel (though I have gone to evening chapel only once), and there is much praying together. I have freedom to make faith a part of my counseling sessions as seems appropriate, and that is very refreshing, but a whole new learning curve as well. Luckily Glenda, the director of the centre, is a great supervisor and I am able to discuss cases and experiences with her in ways that seem to be mutually beneficial. She will have me going to talk to a few other local organizations that help abuse victims, and we may also visit a prison, an orphan organization, and possibly talk with some politicians. Crazy!

I have been here 4 days, and I am already feeling my time here may be too short to accomplish all I would like to. At the same time I feel I have been here a long time. And certainly I will be anxious to get back home as well. Strange paradoxes. Paradoces? Hmm....

K. That is enough for the moment I suppose. I miss you guys!

i lied

2010-01-19T04:04:00.001-05:00

i evidently am also limited by fatigue, dehydration, and a caffeine-craving headache. turning the computer off to go forage for food. hope to be back in touch soon.

brilliance

2010-01-19T03:09:00.002-05:00

In that last post I initially said it was 8:30, because I added 6 hours to the time my computer said. Bt then I realized my plane had landed at 8:15, and that seemed impossible unless I had stepped through some time warp. Which seemed more and more possible as I readded and could not solve the discrepancy. When we went to Swaziland in June, it was a 6 hour time difference because of daylight savings time. In the winter it is 7. True, this is not rocket science, but in my sleepy state, I could not grasp reality and it was very disturbing. The end.

And so it begins...

2010-01-19T02:19:00.004-05:00

Im sitting slightly grainy-eyed in the airport in Johannesburg, taking advantage of a bit of free fast internet. So far so good on the journey. The plane wasnt very full, so I had a window seat with no one in the seat between me and the aisle. Got some sleep, did some reading, talked with a man who is a lawyer there who had very specific ideas about things I should be paying attention to during my time in Swaziland. He says he is very good friends with the king's brother. But it is my understanding that that could be any Swazi male of the proper generation.

Im excited, but in a holding pattern. After the roller coaster of stress in the 3 days preceding my departure, a brief fit of tears before I even got past security in Raleigh was rather cathartic, and things have seemed strangely matter of fact until I stop and remember what it is I am doing and then I am excited again.

The aforementioned tears were because the American Airlines lady scolded me for not having a visa but couludnt explain to me the implications of this but told me I had better call the cconsulate. But I had looked at the website and it had told me I did not need a visa. People stared while I sniffled and snotted, and Annie looked online for me and confirmed that the lady was, in fact, full of it, and that not visa was required. Phew!

It has been funny just the little landmarks that make me happy just because they were a part of my last trip, a trip with multiple companions with whom to share the journey. The coffee bar in this airport. The little snack bar where we bought soda and strange chips to consume while we sat waiting for our miniature plane to Manzini, our first time on African soil. Standing at the check in desk feeling completely foreign and at the mercy of others (seemed so straightforward today). It is strange to be taking it all in by myself, and it would be nice to have people with whom to enjoy it. But that isnt what this trip is about, and Im grateful for what it is. Plus, that is where you come in in subjecting yourself to this blog where I can share a bit.

I probably should divide this up into a couple of posts, so that you don't see a giant post and give up all together. Seeing as how I have 4 more hours in this airport (it is 9:30 am, but my laptop says 2:30, which speaks to my inner zombie and reminds me that I am not supposed to be alert and starting a new day), and the only limiting factor is my battery. Trust me, with at best 6 hours of sleep in the last 48hours, inhibitions are low. Mwahahaha. Ahem. Ill be back...

Im baaack...then far away...but whatever

2010-01-15T20:18:00.004-05:00

Wow. After long threatening hiatuses (hiati?) I actually fell off the face of the blogging earth for real that time. I have enjoyed the season of not thinking how any given daily activity might fit into blog fodder, but the time and the place for vomiting my experiences into the interwebs appears to have returned. So here we go.

I am sitting on the near side of my final weekend in NC before venturing off to Swaziland, Africa for 5 weeks. It has been an amazing path just to getting the trip lined up, and I know that crazy things are in store for the next 5 weeks. I may not sleep for the rest of the weekend!

I will be working at a shelter for abused women, Elusitweni, which means "house of rescue." I met the director of the shelter, Glenda Stephens, at a bible study that Christy took us to when we were in Swaziland in June of '08. Honestly, Im not sure exactly what I am going to be doing. Some learning about the way they do things and some helping out wherever I can, but I can't really know what the details will be until I get there.

I leave sometime between Sunday and Monday next week. Technically it is Monday morning, but I will have to leave for the airport at a time that is far more middle of the night than morning. What is lovely and crazy is that a friend is voluntarily subjecting herself to this painful hour so that I dont have to make a lonely solo trek to the airport.

So for the weekend, it's finishing up packing. A few extraneous errands remain but things are mostly together. I will post more about the crazy way that things unfolded to make this trip come together. And then I hope to post my adventures and pictures and all kinds of fabulous stuff like that as access to the internet allows. Welcome to the journey.

and now for something completely different

2009-07-20T09:05:00.004-04:00

I suppose that bread picture has been up long enough to turn the stomachs of all of my readers, so I will post something different. I just finished reading Jesus Wants to Save Christians by Rob Bell and Don Golden. After a baffling start, I quite enjoyed the read. Not a ton of new data, necessarily, but new connections and perpectives and understanding of the way the new covenant relates to the old, and challenges that spring from that understanding. Some, including the following passage also reinforced some of what I read in The Cost of Discipleship, namely the paradox that the power of the Gospel lies in its weakness and that the same holds true for lives pursuant to that Good News, about the path of descent, about our participation in Christ's death making us light and life to the dying world around us.

"Church is people.

People who live in a certain way in the world.

People who have authority in the world, but authority that comes from breaking themselves open and pouring themselves out so that the world will be healed.

The authority that the church has in culture does not come from how right, cool, or loud it is, or how convinced it is of its doctrinal superiority.

As Paul says, 'We don't fight with those weapons.' A church's authority comes from somewhere else--it comes from how we've been broken open and poured out, not from how well we've pursued power and lobbied and organized ourselves to triumph."

-from Jesus Wants to Save Christians

Gag me with a loaf of bread

2009-06-22T18:54:00.004-04:00

I was going to post something brilliant and thoughtful earlier today, but in putting it off it has been ousted by something tragic and nauseating. Meh...the first may have been that way too.....

Annie and I recently devised the perfect combination....gruyere, assorted cheddars, red wine, and neo-tuscan bread. MMmmm....satisfying, tasty, happy-making. Until this afternoon when I was asked to identify the following. The original fear was a bug. Further scrutiny suggested possibly ground meat of some sort. At any rate, nothing that was meant to be in a loaf of bread. See?!?!?

I tend to be less discriminatory than many in terms of what I will eat, but even I have my limits. We tried to ignore the fact that we had already consumed half the tainted loaf and took the remainder back to the Food Lion, and the customer service lady wasnt even willing to look at it.

Tragic....

Mullet with headlights

2009-05-30T23:24:00.002-04:00

Oh. My. Gosh. I got the following video from a med school friend today, saying "For some reason I thought of you when I saw this video." I dont know what that reason was, but whatever it is, I am deeply honored. Because I laughed so hard I almost puked. Classic eighties music video mixed with pure hilarity. For your viewing pleasure:

a new favorite

2009-05-02T22:08:00.004-04:00

I love it when I am driving along half listening to a song and suddenly find the lyrics speaking directly to me. Today wasn't the first time a 10th avenue north song has done that. I was driving along, took absent minded note of the first verses, which didn't especially grab me, and somewhere amist the "oo ooooo"s, I thought about skipping to the next song but for some reason decided to just leave it. Then the next thing I know, what I think is a short bridge just continues to pour out the answer to my morning need:

"I hear you say My love is over, it's underneath, it's inside, it's in between
the times you doubt Me when you can't feel
the times that you question is this for real?
the times you're broken the times that you mend
the times you hate Me and the times that you bend
My love is over, it's underneath, it's inside, it's in between
these times you're healing and when your heart breaks
the times that you feel like you've fallen from grace
the times you're hurting the times that you heal
the times you've gone hungry and are tempted to steal
in times of confusion and chaos and pain
I'm there in your sorrow under the weight of your shame
I'm there through your heartache I'm there in the storm
My love I will keep you by My power alone
I don't care where you've fallen or where you have been
I'll never forsake you, My love never ends. It never ends."

Even now I can't hear it like I heard it this morning. But it's true. It's true.

lyrics from "Times" by 10th Avenue North

not quite the shirt off her back...

2009-03-30T17:51:00.002-04:00

I had an interesting but happy occurance today. Last week, my friend and officemate, Elena, had some awesome socks on. They were almost knee-high, and a blue and brown swirly pattern that looked almost heathered. I have an obnoxious habit at work of repeatedly commenting on anything she wears that I like. (I need some diversion from work sometimes, and harassing other people is always a good option). She has this purple flowered shirt that pleases me, and I tell her at least 5 times every time she wears it, as though I had never previously noted. So last Wednesday, I mentioned that I liked her socks. Except I REALLY liked them, so I told her about 20 times throughout the course of the day. I told her I liked them. I told her I coveted them. I told her they were the best socks ever. Then I thought nothing of it.

This morning, Elena presented me with her (now laundered) socks. I laughed and told her she couldnt give me her socks. She said "They are a gift!" And she really meant it. So I accepted the socks. Put them on (they matched my blue outfit today). And was ridiculously happy. Not so much because the socks rock (which they do). But because she gave me something that was hers, just because she wanted to, and they were her socks, socks she was also particularly fond of, but which it pleased her to pass along to make me happy. A random lighthearted sacrifice that brightened my day :)

it really is a miracle...

2009-02-19T20:32:00.003-05:00

...that I'm able to get anything done. Just in case any of you were wondering about the extent of my attentional capabilities. I had a fairly simple task tonight. Vacuum, and maybe do a little dusting and last minute straightening. I am going to try to recreate for you my evening, though I cannot be sure that I am not missing some of the finer points of ordering. I will try:

1. Spend the first part of the evening eating dinner and talking online.
2. Decide to be diligent and begin my cleaning process.
3. Start dusting because it's easier. Dust my dining room chairs, my tea cart, the piano, dining room blinds.
4. Move my dining room chairs into the kitchen so that I can vacuum.
5. Decide the kitchen counters need a touch more work, and wipe down the counters.
6. Find my water bill in the kitchen and return to the dining room to get online and pay it.
7. Discover my internet needs to be reset before I can get online.
8. Return to the kitchen, where I put all of the extraneous candy (a disturbingly large amount) into a bag.
9. Dust the living room.
10. Return to the dining room, where I attempt to dust the chandelier.
11. Melt the synthetic duster to the chandelier.
12. Turn off the light so that the melted fibers do not continue to cook.
13. Realize I still havent vacuumed.
14. Vacuum the hall and dining room as far as the piano (as far as the cord will reach) in the dark because the bulb is still cooling.
15. Place the coffee table and ottoman on the sofa to prepare to vacuum the living room.
16. Somehow end up back in the kitchen ( oh yeah, to put the chairs back around the dining room table) where I take extraneous things off the fridge, wipe the fridge down, clean the stove hood, and return the candy baskets to the top of the fridge.
17. Discover the chandelier bulb is cool. Take it out and wipe off melted fuzz. Reinsert it.
18. Realize the water bill is still by the computer.
19. Go upstairs to reset my computer.
20. Realize while upstairs that the hallway should be vaccuumed. Oh yeah! Vacuuming!
21. Go back downstairs.
22. Vacuum the living room.
23. Start to put the vacuum away.
24. Remember I still need to vacuum the stairs and upstairs hallway. Do so.
25. Remember that I restarted my computer.
26. Go back downstairs to pay bill and blog about my own insanity.
27. Get up from posting this to sweep kitchen and bathroom floors.
28. Find my new extention duster and dust the corners of my high living room ceiling.
29. Realize ottoman and coffee table are still on the sofa. Sigh.

There were scattered bits of bathroom cleaning and other various unrelated tasks in the mix there too. And this was all productive time...this is as good as it gets for me. Im hoping now to clean the kitchen floor and go to bed. There is very little to derail me at this point. I think...

amusement

2009-02-14T18:58:00.003-05:00

I got a card from my college roommate today with a silly picture of a squirrel on the front. The squirrel was standing on a book, and there was another book beside his feet, almost off the edge of the picture. My eyes were drawn by two strangely illustrated legs on this book. The fine print beside the illustration said "From How to Drown-proof Your Family By Richard Christner." The legs evidently belonged to the drowning family member the book was meant to save. I found this far more amusing than the squirrel holding the pencil. I know. Too easily amused. Is it such a bad thing?

little things

2009-02-13T19:27:00.002-05:00

Today was a somewhat grueling day, but there were very distinct little things that brought me great joy.

1. There is a cute older gentleman seen in our clinic, whom I have taken care of in both the emergency room and on the ward. I passed him in the hall today and said "Hello, Mr. So and So." He stopped and turned around grinning. "How did you remember my name?" I stuttered a little, not sure how to answer that one, and he said "Just one of those things?" and I agreed. Clearly he was pleased and it made me happy.

2. Going up in a crowded elevator. The guy in the back with the meal trays was supposed to get out on 5, but the guy with the big discharge wheelchair getting off on 6 was blocking him in. Elevator was going all the way up to 8. The guy in back said, "Just go on." Guy with wheel chair says, incredulously, "You'll go up and come back down?" Guy with trays concurs. Wheelchair-guy grins a big childlike thankful grin at tray-guy. We proceed upward.

3. Coming home to a big box on my porch. Inside: two big bags of twizzlers, a bag of raspberry lindor truffles, a bag of chocolate/raspberry/white creme hershey's kisses, a bag of skittles, a box of runts, a tube of cheesecakey hershey's kiss truffles, a valentines card. Oh and my mom threw in a perfume from avon that Im not sure if is acceptable yet. And some coupons. And a MAD magazine. Oh, that last one was dad.

grumbling

2009-02-12T20:28:00.004-05:00

I find it a particularly shame that my trade requires such confidentiality because from time to time things amuse me and I am so tempted to put them up here in nonspecific terms, but it always still feels too wrong. Even when it's about things we do and not about the patients. So approximately 1/2 of my waking hours are relegated to off limits for blogging when there is often amusing stuff there! Sigh. This....is my leg...

Additionally, it is a bad sign when 8:36 is close enough to my bedtime that I have trouble keeping my eyes open to type. I've been degenerating here as of late.

In case you havent noticed, this is blogging simply for the sake of throwing something up there. Im hoping that maybe it will cause momentum and then tomorrow something I can actually share will occur and it will be brilliant. Yeah. That's it. Night folks...

deja vu all over again

2009-02-11T19:32:00.003-05:00

So I was torn this evening between two possible blog topics, but I decided against posting about my shame and exhilaration at learning the secret recipe of Japan Express's white sauce (mayo, sugar, and paprika...and yet I would eat rocks if someone doused them in this delightful gravy) and to post a strange occurance this morning.

I was settling down for some reading time (after bumping my desk with my knee, sloshing coffee all over a table runner my college roommate brought me from Crete, rinsing and soaking said table runner, putting a towel down in its place on the desk, and sitting down more gently the second time), and opened up Praying God's Word by Beth Moore. Amidst the bits of scripture/prayer, there are various quotes. I read on one of the pages: "Christ could afford to be humble as He served upon this earth. After all, He was the Son of God. He had nothing to prove. Yet does His Word not also say that we are heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ? Do you know who you are? Then go ahead and wash a few feet. God's most liberated servants are those who also know they have nothing to prove."

Weird...because I had a vivid memory of writing something similar at some past juncture. Struck by the strange deja vu, I grabbed my old journal and started flipping through it, pausing to look at some of my ramblings over the past couple years. And there it was, with a slightly different slant, but still. On March 18, 2007: "I was thinking in church today that Jesus was never trying to build himself up. Well duh, he didn't have to, seeing as how he was the Son of God. Except we forget that we have also been made children of God. And just as much, that should be enough to let us be confident in who we are. Christ made us righteous and holy...and that needs to be enough for us. We need not try to add anything to that."

Hunh! That sneaky Beth Moore, reading my journal...what's that? Her book was published in 2000? Oh, so your going to take her side now?!? Typical.

It seemed strange at first that hers was about humility, while I had spoken about confidence, but to the extent that that results in a resting in Him and not needing to build ourselves up, I don't think they are particularly opposed. I suppose I'll pay attention to this one...

trying so hard to be grown up

2009-01-06T21:05:00.003-05:00

It has been happening more and more recently that I am forgetting how old I am. Strangely, I always over-estimate. This morning I was quite sure that I was a year older than I am, and even had to subtract my birthyear from 2008 (until march) to figure out for sure. I'm not sure if it is from always being in school with people a year older than myself or if it is just my infinite and overwhelming maturity that throws me off, but everytime I make that mistake, even though it's just a year, it makes me feel a little small, like a little kid who is trying to be a real grown up.

the coffee DTs

2009-01-05T20:57:00.002-05:00

It seems backwards that I would suffer caffeine withdrawal on the day back to work. And yet my days of leisure provided many an opportunity for extra caffeinated beverages. Starbucks stops, morning long pots of coffee at home, *cough* coke *cough* (yes, I remembered after adamantly denying recent cola intake my 2.75 giant fountain cokes at lunch yesterday). Whoops. Today my brain scoffed at my attempt to return to my workday intake of 2 cups in the morning and a decaf midday. And by scoffed, I mean did it's best impression of being squeezed in a vice with a side of icepick in the eye. Weeee.....

no promises

2009-01-04T18:11:00.003-05:00

Due to internal pressures and the demands of my adoring fans (har), I am going to post again. I am making no new resolutions for posting in the New Year, and this was good foresight seeing as my intentions to post for the past 3-4 days have been unfruitful. We are going to give this a try.

I think the postless season has been an important one. I am in the midst of unlearning the brain's tendency to want to be in control, to feel the need to have these mental strings attached to various circumstances that appear to hold things in check but have zero power. Words can easily be a tool of control. Controlling people, controlling images, even controlling or trying to own new thinking and learning that is going on. There is the danger that a blog can be a place to control perceptions of myself, or to attempt to be right, which is a related problem. Even something as simple as deciding which of my random musings I want to throw out for human consumption can turn into a choice of which face I desire to wear for the day. And so I have, every time I try to post, been disturbed by all those motives floating around, and refused to put anything up.

The whole being right thing can be a tangled mess. I've started very recently to see that any time (which seems every time in every situation in the past) that my ultimate focus is being right or getting something right, that it all comes down to self love. Even in my trying to do the right thing and be pleasing to God, as long as the point is My being pleasing to God instead of God's pleasure, that it comes down to self love. Im thankful to even have a glimpse of that distinction. And I could go around in circles eternally, trying to make it about God so that I can get it right, which gets me right back where I started. Thank God for grace, and that not one iota of it is about me getting it right. It's still tricky to me at times, but Im learning a new surrender of self-righteousness that I pray will become more and more true and natural.

Wow, that's kind of a stretch in a post about why I haven't been posting. But whatever. Hopefully I can put something up here from time to time. And not delete it after it's posted.... Over and out.

sigh

2008-11-18T20:08:00.004-05:00

For the record, I have now written two blog posts this evening and then deleted them. The self-critic in me is mighty today.

my head can be a scary place

2008-10-18T23:01:00.002-04:00

I just got home, and admittedly it is past my bedtime, but I seriously just had a little break from reality. I was sitting trying to think of a new facebook status and glanced over to see a glass full of creamy liquid on the corner of my table. I havent had any milk today. and it didnt even really look like milk, but whatever it was I hadnt been drinking it! In fact, it didnt even look like a glass from my house. After about 10 seconds of confusion, as dread rose within me as I tried to understand the implications of this foreign entity that had somehow ended up inside my once secure house, I sat up high enough to see that it was not, in fact, a glass of liquid, but my citrus magnolia candle that I lit there earlier today to spread it's endust-like aroma about my downstairs. Sigh. Im going to bed....

obligatory posting

2008-10-01T18:28:00.003-04:00

This is nothing more than a "hmm...I havent posted in a long time" sort of post. Im alive, Im learning and reflecting, but not having a lot I have felt like throwing out into the blogosphere. More receptive than productive, and temporarily feeling a little less like broadcasting. Im sure I'll return to inane stories of tripping and running into things soon enough, but for now, just a quick paragraph about the lack thereof. Whoop dee doo.

name thievery

2008-09-17T21:41:00.004-04:00

So I confess that every once in a while, I google myself when I run out of other fun things to do online. It tends to occur on the same sort of nights that lead me to do things like dabbling in the world that is facebook (sorry Rob. I know I have disappointed you), particularly when said facebook reminds me that I prefer that all the people I have involuntarily committed not be able to read up on me online. But it turns out that the top 500 results for "Sarah Ralston" are for one of the cast members of The Real World Hollywood. She is evidently an "aspiring broadcast journalist, who speaks her mind." Im not sure why, but I feel a little violated. While I know that there are other Sarah Ralstons out there, Ive never had it so blatantly thrown in my face! I feel like a bit of me has been stolen. And to be parading our name around in front of millions of viewers. She better be careful...

ahhhh

2008-09-17T19:31:00.000-04:00

For the record, it smells awesome outside. Is it october yet?

something unoriginal

2008-09-15T21:20:00.007-04:00

I have a new book of excerpts from various works of Henri Nouwen. It is lovely, but has the financially unsound result of making me want to buy all of his books. I loved the following, from The Road to Daybreak:

"Why should I spend an hour in prayer when I do nothing during that time but think about people I am angry with, people who are angry with me, books I should read and books I should write, and thoughsands of other silly things that happen to grab my mind for a moment? The answer is: because God is greater than my mind and my heart, and what is really happening in the house of prayer is not measurable in terms of human success and failure.

What I must do first of all is be faithful. If I believe that the first commandment is to love God with my whole heart, mind, and soul, then I should at least be able to spend one hour a day with nobody else but God. The question as to whether it is helpful, useful, practical, or fruitful is completely irrelevant, since the only reason to love is love itself. Everything else is secondary.

The remarkable thing, however, is that sitting in the presence of God for one hour each morning--day after day, week after week, month after month--in total confusion and with myriad distractions radically changes my life. God, who loves me so much that he sent his only Son not to condemn me but to save me, does not leave me waiting in the dark too long. I might think that each hour is useless, but after thirty or sixty or ninety such useless hours, I gradually realize that I was not as alone as I thought; a very small, gentle voice has been speaking to me far beyond my noisy place.

So: Be confident and trust in the Lord."

hearing the story

2008-09-10T20:20:00.003-04:00

"I love to tell the story, for those who know it best
Seem hungering and thirsting to hear it like the rest."

Today I did a consult on a gentleman who has a severe chronic medical illness. His team wanted to make sure that his chest pain wasn't actually due to anxiety. Enter the psychiatrist. I spent a lot longer than I should have on my interview. Because I couldn't get enough. It turns out nothing I could have offered could have helped him cope with his illness better than the treasure he already had. He told me about how God was helping him deal with his illness. That he would occasionally feel discouraged about his illness, but how he knew it was all in God's hands and that everything would be taken care of. How he had come to accept that this was a season of illness for him because God was in charge. How he had been delivered from years of alcohol and other substance dependence and hadn't wanted to use in over 16 years. How the support of other friends who had been saved and could speak words of life and encouragement to him had helped him through times when he faltered. He spoke with such assurance, such joy, and had such a sense of peace about the trials he was facing. And I just wanted to stay and listen. It is like the excitement of meeting a stranger and realizing you have a common friend or experience, except that friend/experience carries with it the gift of life itself, and you know first hand the wonder of what they are describing. And it sounds all the more new and fresh to hear it through someone else's story. I want to learn to speak of God like that. Without striving or stiltedness. But just honestly and matter-of-fact-ly speak of the unbelievable, undeserved love. Lord, open my lips, and my mouth shall declare your praise!

A slippery slope

2008-09-08T06:35:00.002-04:00

I have recently joked with friends about how my breakfast pastry is really just a nutella (or sometimes PB and mable syrup) vehicle. I ran out of waffles and decided to put it on an english muffin. I ran out of muffins and found it went quite well on toast. I joked that when I ran out of toast I might just slather up a piece of cardboard. Well, it hasn't gotten that bad yet, but I drew one step closer. This morning I woke to realize I forgot to run by the grocery store yesterday for breakfast fixin's. I was feeling hungry and knew just a cup of coffee would eat my stomach from the inside out. The solution? I am sitting here waiting for my toaster to ding to tell me that my....wait for it.....Nutella quesadilla is complete. Hey. If you can make breakfast burritos, I think a breakfast quesadilla is fair game. That being said, I will be stopping by the grocery on the way home from work....

How Pavlovian...

2008-08-27T17:49:00.002-04:00

Am I the only one who gets a little high when my inbox suddenly has a little "(1)" after it? I mean, yes, in part it is not unexpected, because it generally is an indication that I have fun correspondence from a friend and that someone is thinking of me, but it is seriously a little strange that that visual cue itself has come to have a direct line of communication that can make my heart leap just a bit. Which is a setup for tragic disappointment when it ends up being an ebill. What a weird technological world we live in....

Jigsaw confessions

2008-08-17T19:52:00.003-04:00

The little old ladies on the geriatric unit have been putting together jigsaw puzzles during the day and I have been very jealous, and snuck from my paperwork a time or two to help out with a piece. This evening I broke out a puzzle here on my kitchen table and spent the last hour putting together the edge. It was my brother's puzzle from a Christmas over a decade ago, and even now at the age of 27, I take a particular delight in the knowledge that I am putting together his puzzle, after being brutally excluded from its earliest assemblies.

I love jigsaw puzzles. There is something so satisfying about fitting the piece you've been searching for into it's perfect little place. I tend to get grandiose delusions about how very brilliant I am when my eyes fall on a piece and I know it is the one that fits in a particular spot. I am sure there is something very unhealthy about it all.

I consider myself to be a fairly easy going person (though some have claimed I am just oblivious), but puzzles are an area in which I am uncharacteristically rigid. My clearest memory of childhood injustice was when my babysitter made me accept the assistance of a peer on a very difficult puzzle of which I had painstakingly solved the first 3/4. I was probably like 7 years old. It was a 1000 piece puzzle of a big cheeseburger. This was also a source of great trouble with my grandfather, an all-around rigid man, with a similar affinity for puzzles. It seems there was a great difference of opinion on the proper way to complete a puzzle. I shall explain.

When I am working on a puzzle, the puzzle pieces are to remain in the box. Despite my grandfather's desire to lay all of the pieces out on the table, sorted by color and shape and lined up in perfect grid lines, I maintain that they are to remain in the box, to be picked up in handfuls and dropped back into the box slowly until you see a piece that may fit into what you are working on (for example, an edge piece), or , even better, the exact piece that you are looking for. I realize I am probably quite alone in this, and I was always respectful of his grid in puzzles that he had started or that the whole family was working on, but when I would come back to a puzzle I had been working on and find all the pieces out, and proceed to dump them all back in the box, well... then that didn't tend to go over well. Even when he was old and frail and I should have had a bit more grace and lenience, there was NO sorting of my puzzle pieces. Absolutely unacceptable.

After this evening, I think I am well on my way to being a crazy old lady who spends all her time sitting at home alone, sifting through her puzzle pieces with glee and clinging to the conviction that she is the most accomplished jigsaw solver ever to cut open a box. It's a good back up since crazy old cat lady is out because of the allergies....

Job denied due to repellent personality and mercenary spirit

2008-08-10T08:54:00.008-04:00

I am at home for the weekend, and saw an interview form for a teaching position that my dad had discovered from 1973 (not that my family has packrat issues...). After the spaces for demographic info was a rating chart for a number of categories followed by 2 sentences of additional comments. The rating chart was as follows:

Dress, grooming: Slovenly /Careless /Appropriate /Tasteful /Smart
Voice: Unpleasant/ Weak/ Satisfactory /Pleasing/ Charming
Use of English: Crude/ Limited/ Adequate /Effective /Fluent
Social Poise: Affected/ Ill at ease /Natural/ Pleasing /Charming
Physical vigor/health: Lifeless/ Doubtful/ Average/ Healthy /Dynamic
Personality: Repellent/ Colorless/ Average /Pleasing/ Appealing
Mental reactions: Slow /Uncertain/ Average/ Superior/ Very keen
Professional spirit: Mercenary /Indifferent/ Apparent /Noticeable/ Impressive
General Appearance: Unattract. /Plain /Ordinary/ Attractive /Striking

There was only one scale for if the person actually knew what they were doing:

Professional Expertise: Limited/ Acceptable/ Good /Outstanding

On the one hand it seems appalling, but it's not like things are so different now. People are just not so bold as to explicitly document that the job was denied because the applicant was plain with an unpleasant voice. So if Im going to say times have changed, I'll just say we are more deluded about our own biases.

This post brought to you by....

2008-08-09T00:48:00.002-04:00

...9 pm coffee. The squeaking of my ceiling fan was entering into my trying to sleep thoughts and confusing me, yet I refuse to turn it off. It is too intrusive for white noise--it's probably chartreuse noise or something. But I like it there. Anyway, usually caffeine induced insomnia drives me crazy. I love my sleep. Im usually out within 5 minutes of hitting the pillow. I confess I sometimes see sleep as a good chance to get away from the things going on in my mind and hope for a better reboot in the morning. I may have finally reached a point where I see that a reboot is blindness. The challenge that part of me would love to wake up amnestic to needs to be kept in mind and lived through or everything is a lie and will be fruitless. So seeing that sleep will help me escape nothing makes me indifferent to lying awake to *squeak.. squeak... squeak.. squeak* Day and night seem less different when you can't run away from things. Ok...I realize that last sentence probably makes no sense, but I am over caffeinated and I still think it is what I meant to say. Maybe it would be best to go now....

Love me some Lewis

2008-07-17T20:57:00.001-04:00

"...when pain is to be borne, a little courage helps more than much knowledge, a little human sympathy more than much courage, and the least tincture of the love of God more than all."

--C.S. in his preface to The Problem of Pain

only my dad

2008-07-16T20:23:00.003-04:00

Today I found that my dad had left me a voice mail at about 11:30. I am always a little concerned to receive messages from my dad when he knows I am at work, so I keyed in my password with a little trepidation. The message was alerting me that my father had watched 4 really old episodes of Saved by the Bell this morning. And he knew they were really old because it was the episode where Zach and Slater first became acquainted. Except he couldn't remember Slater's name and referred to him as "the latino (which he pronounced lah-tino) character". He also commented on Screech's youthfulness and Belding's presence of hair. His point was that it brought back fond memories of watching it over the shoulders of my brother and myself. Smile/sigh...

the rage....

2008-07-08T16:07:00.001-04:00

I am sure that computerized phone prompts are one of the most overly pet peeved things in the world, to the point that there is no point in even really posting about the reason that I have been screaming at the top of my lungs over the past 10 minutes because no human being will help me cancel my cable and the humans I do finally get transfer me to a line that is busy. *taking deep breaths*

Unlearning

2008-07-06T10:50:00.002-04:00

I have found that a lot of growth has to do a lot less with learning new things as with unlearning the things that were never true to begin with. Many of them may be true for the world but inappropriately generalized to God, too. The need to earn things, reciprocity, being treated as our sins deserve. Most are things that, if we actually realized we thought them, are blatantly wrong and sometimes even ridiculous. But we fail to realize we think them and they continue to insidiously affect the way we live our lives and view ourselves. Sometimes just listening to our thoughts (no not the voices) and forcing into words the stream of energy that flits through the mind reveals how ridiculous some of our mindsets really are.

For example, I have been thinking a lot about grace, surrender, and getting my strivings out of the way and letting the Spirit work through me. It is always opposed by this feeling that I need to be doing something, earning something, that weasels its way in even when I have it in my mind that God's love is a free gift that can't be added to or subtracted from by anything I do. So in thinking about paying attention to what God is calling me to do and doing just that, the following thought went through my head: "But what about people who seem to do more? Who seem to already know the right thing to do without listening and waiting? If I were really good, I would be able to do that." BWAHAHA. If I were really good?!? Seriously?!? If I were really good, I wouldn't need a Savior. If there was a shred of anything good in me that was of myself, I wouldn't need to die to that self (I could just amputate the not-so-good parts). The ability to do anything remotely good comes from Him. Did I really think I might be able to jump the gun and do it before he led me? Oh, God, by the by, I went ahead and did X for you, because I knew you would need it done eventually and probably just hadnt thought of it yet. Wow.

And I had no idea that that was lurking around suggesting to me that I was essentially bad and less fit than others to participate in what God is doing. Im thankful for the exposure of yet another lie that was fuel for self-condemnation, and all the more excited to surrender all to the only one who can bring good into and out of this life of mine.

not me

2008-07-03T06:46:00.003-04:00

I have long had mixed feelings about the Message translation of the Bible. When I was first introduced to it, I thought it was ridiculous. I was used to things having a certain ring to them in the NIV, and particularly the more familiar verses seemed to become something too relaxed and foreign to me. I recall quoting the Message as saying "Then Jesus rolled up to the disciples and said 'Yo, whassup?'" Yeah...so... initially bothered. Over time I came to find that there were refreshing and true angles that the translation managed to capture that was lost in the words of other translations, and I came to appreciate it. I am still a little skeptical and often have another translation out just to compare notes and get a well rounded rendering, but I have found a lot that was really great.

For some reason in the past few days, I pulled out my Message (and should pull out along with it a magnifying glass as Angela points out it would fit inside her Message if we hollowed it out) and started reading Ephesians. It is a section that I know in the NIV and have had to beat into my head again and again, that we are saved by grace and that even our own faith is not from us, and that it is nothing I do but what was done for me. I got to 2:7-10 and it was like someone had decided that since I was so thick about it, that they would lay it out clear and simple, like when someone talks at about 1/4 normal speed and maybe even gestures because it seems to be having such a hard time getting through. I may need to get this tattooed on my forehead.

"Now God has us where he wants us, with all the time in this world and next to shower grace and kindness upon us in Christ Jesus. Saving is all his idea and all his work. All we do is trust him enough to let him do it. It's God's gift from start to finish! We don't play the major role. If we did, we'd probably go around bragging that we'd done the whole thing! No, we neither make nor save ourselves. God does both the making and saving. He creates each of us by Christ Jesus to join him in the work he does, the good work he has gotten ready for us to do, work we had better be doing."

Now I take a deep breath, turn off my inner franticness (franticity?) and resume coffee on my deck...

We're baa-aack

2008-06-30T11:39:00.002-04:00

Team Swazi is officially safely back home in NC. It was an awesome awesome trip in so many ways. I'm not sure how much I'm going to try to expound upon in this medium, but I know that copious blogging is already being premeditated from others on the team, so I'm sure you will feel sufficiently informed. The immediate tasks before me include unpacking, readjusting to summer (how quickly we forgot the joys of humidity...ugh) and trying to ignore the swarm of fruit flies that has taken over my kitchen (I remembered somewhere between RDU and Dulles that I had forgotten the last item on my list--taking out the trash..doh!). TTFN.

second reads

2008-06-16T22:13:00.003-04:00

I pulled Manning's The Signature of Jesus from the shelf tonight and was rereading a few pages before going to sleep. The following pleased me:

"Jesus, as the revealer of the Godhead, defines God as love. In light of this revelation, we have to abandon the cankerous, worm-eaten structure of legalism, moralism, and perfectionism that corrupts the Good News into an ethical code rather than a love affair."

Nothing new, but I really liked it, and it felt like something that could be repeatedly useful. The tendency seems to be to temporarily set it down but abandoning it altogether, running away and never looking back would be so refreshing. Ahhh....

Everyday miracles

2008-06-12T07:41:00.004-04:00

So those who have read my blog for a while know that it is, in and of itself, a miracle that I have made it to 27 in one piece. Some of my attempts to throw the game of natural selection are minor, but sometimes I am overcome by God's protection of me and my well-being because things that should turn out disastrous don't. This morning I made my coffee and went out to retrieve my journal from my car. The garage was way too bright. Because I had, not for the first time, neglected to close it on the way into the house last night. The main thing of value in my garage is usually my electric lawnmower, which I would be very upset to have stolen. But wait, it turns out that was not the biggest item jeopardized. I had failed to take my purse out of the car meaning that, not only my wallet, but the smart key to my car were sitting in the passengers seat of the unlocked car. I might as well have left the engine running and a sign that said "take me!" And while I think I deadbolted the door into my house, I can't actually remember if I had to unlock it this morning. "Before you go joyriding in your new prius, why don't you come in and have a cup of coffee, take my computer, and while you're at it, go ahead and murder me in my sleep!" Holy crap. It makes me slightly nauseated to realize how easily the whole scenario could have gone horribly wrong--and there is no reason that it shouldn't have without divine intervention. That would have made for a crappy week (particularly the murdering me in my sleep part). Thank you, God, for loving me and for watching over me when I do stupid stupid things.

my warped brain

2008-06-06T07:14:00.006-04:00

My favorite Deep Thought by Jack Handey has been on my mind, a) because I just bought a bunch of yummy nectarines that I have been eating, and b) because someone made a reference to having the sensati0n that they were eating flesh. So since it is running through my mind a few times a day, I will put it down to share.

"As I bit into the nectarine, it had a crisp juiciness about it that was very pleasurable - until I realized it wasn't a nectarine at all, but A HUMAN HEAD!"

There is something about the completely random, unexpected, and would-be-macabre-if-not-so-ridiculous twist that really amuses me in a strangely satisfying way. For another example, the following song by Tom Lehrer:

"I hold your hand in mine, dear, I press it to my lips
I take a healthy bite from your dainty finger tips
My joy would be complete, dear, if you were only here.
But still I'll keep your hand as a precious souvenier.

The night you died, I cut it off. I really don't know why
For now each time I kiss it, I get blood stains on my tie
Im sorry now I killed you, for our love was something fine.
Until they come to get me, I shall hold your hand in mine."

Something in me tells me I shouldn't find it so funny, but it really does just resonate with some amusement center within and it makes me very happy in a way I can't quite comprehend. A little odd that both examples deal with eating flesh. I swear that is not the part that appeals. Honest!

lessons in hygiene

2008-06-02T21:30:00.003-04:00

Today I told a lady that she would be staying at UNC instead of going to the state hospital, and she took my hand, shook it in both of hers, and then kissed it. Now, of all the places I might kiss a stranger's hand, the emergency room is pretty low on the list. Who knows where my hand might have been!!! Bedpans, blood, microbes of all sorts. Yuck!!!! I don't touch anyone in the ER without part of my mind becoming immediately fixated on when I can next access the little can of antimicrobial foam. Which means she was probably pretty safe, but the very thought of what she might be risking kissing gave me the willies. My public service announcement is this. No matter what nice things your doctor might do for you, a simple hand shake, or maybe even a no-contact thumbs up will suffice. Seriously.

Contented Sunday evenings

2008-06-01T21:13:00.002-04:00

Often a Saturday call can make me feel like I didnt get a weekend at all. 24 hours of work followed by a tired Sunday, and then right back to work. Im sure it was in part because I had the world's easiest call yesterday and got over 7 hours of sleep (on a nice plastic mattress that always leaves me tossing and turning and with strange strange dreams), but also because of a nice, full but relaxing day that made up for only having one weekend day, that I feel ready to face a Monday tomorrow. I had a feeling today was going to be lovely, and it was. I am drained and will sleep well as long as the two cups of coffee and the coke I've had since 5pm dont have anything to say about it (fingers crossed). I am hopeful for some increased blog activity here soon, but clearly no promises. For now, I go sleep....

S&G tell me it's all happening there....

2008-05-24T07:46:00.004-04:00

The monkeys stand for honesty
Giraffes are insincere
And the elephants are kindly but they're dumb
Orangutans are skeptical of changes in their cages
And the zookeeper is very fond of rum.
Zebras are reactionaries
Antelopes are missionaries
Pigeons plot in secrecy
While hamsters turn on frequently.
What a gas. I'm about to go and see.....

spring power

2008-05-23T14:52:00.002-04:00

As if there weren't enough reason's to love springtime in the triangle area, today I received a $24 electric bill. Yee-haw!!

hard decisions

2008-05-17T08:15:00.005-04:00

On any given free Saturday morning, I have two morning activities that greatly appeal to me, but the enjoyment of which seem to be mutually exclusive. On the one hand, I would love to get a morning run in, especially now that it is getting hotter during the day and the cool morning hours are preferable. A nice invigorating start to the day.

On the other hand, staying in my pajamas, reading, and drinking coffee and having my nut-affle/waffella (this morning substituting cereal as I have yet to replace the ruined waffles) on my porch is a lovely, leisurely way to start my sleep-in day.

I want it both ways, but obviously it doesn't work. If I run, I must then shower and get dressed, pj time is past, and I am awake and ready to go. If I drink coffee and eat, I will either have a heart attack or barf it I attempt to run right away. Such difficult difficult decisions in life....

Today the coffee plan is winning out. I blame it on the 53 degree weather, but any further investigation will reveal that I still plan to do my coffee and reading on the deck, so I am busted, BUT 53 weather is difficult to plan running attire for, because it is too cold initially, but then you warm up. So THERE.

Clearly I am feeling non-blogging-guilt as I have decided to share this pointless dichotomy of my wishes. I think the coffee is done. Im off...

scary stuff

2008-05-12T12:10:00.002-04:00

I just want to take this moment to say that I am terrified to see what will happen as I age into senility. Seeing as how I came home today to find half of a perfectly good box of frozen waffles in my pantry in a not-so-frozen state. Granted, I was running late for church yesterday, and the waffles likely just snuck into the pantry with the Nutella, but seriously. This also could have some relevance as to why my friend's grandmother told me I shouldnt reproduce..... Terrifying....

From my dad's graduation bulletin...

2008-05-09T22:49:00.001-04:00

4 (Women)
Send us where the people languish,
anxious, lonely, in despair.
Send us where they lie in anguish,
wounded, wasted, bent with care.
Christ's clear Gospel word of freedom
may our lips, our lives reveal.
Make us servants of his kingdom,
sent a broken world to heal.

--Herman G. Stuempfle Jr

It's that time of year again...

2008-05-06T16:53:00.002-04:00

I am attempting to end my one month hiatus from running, and I went around the lake today, stopping multiple times to take in the wonder of the lake life. First I saw a man fishing and smiling at something in the corner of the lake that almost escaped my notice. A mama duck followed by 11 of the tiniest little ducklings I've ever seen. The cuteness was almost more than I could bear. A little further around, I spotted a goose couple with about six slightly older goslings. For the record baby goose wings are weird. The lack of feathers makes them remind me of cartoons of cats imagining a live bird as a plucked, roasted bird, with the little wing nubs flapping around. I hope anyone out there has any idea what I am talking about. Wow.. Anyhoo, another quarter around the lake, I paused to watch a heron walking through the water. It knew I was there, and so was walking veeerrrryyy slloooowwwly so as not to attract notice. Yet with every drawn out step, he was still required to do a little head bob. I left him and tried to run a little ways, but only a few yards further was forced to stop and watch two turtles swimming just below the surface with a third, notably smaller turtle. While I was watching, I was startled by the SPLOOSH of a fourth doing a belly flop off the bank to join them. It made me very happy. Yay for spring nature!!!

Last night, I WAS a real doctor!

2008-05-04T17:48:00.003-04:00

Seriously. And the old fashioned kind that doesnt need fancy shmancy labs to make my diagnosis. Ok, so it was a text book case, but how come the ER (note I did not say ED...my dear friend...) doctor didnt notice and didnt know what I was talking about when I mentioned it, huh? huh?

A gentleman came into the hospital last night with agitation, suicidal and homicidal ideation. He reported that he was anxious all the time and he didnt know why. I noted he had a very wide eyed stare. I thought maybe he was drugged out. But he denied this and drug screen was negative. And then I noticed that his eyes were kind of bulgy, and I could see the whites all around the pupil. So I asked about any sweats, diarrhea, palpitations. Yes, yes, and yes, and his blood pressure and pulse were way up. So I decided to do my physical exam, knowing that palpation of the thyroid gland is either a magical power that only very skilled attendings have or a complete sham and people just make up stuff about what it is they are feeling. I put my fingers on his neck and asked him to swallow. And lo and behold, he had a whole handful of thyroid tissue. Yowza!!!! So I ordered the thyroid stimulating hormone and almost did a happy dance when it came back undetectable. Just because I am a psychiatrist, and I made the catch the ER doc missed and that I could have missed if I just focused on my psych history.

Again, it's not like I was diagnosing some rare zebra, but the medicine and endocrine consultants both thought it was a fascinating case. Underlying hyperthyroidism is always that part of the differential for anxiety that you look for but never end up seeing. And here it was staring at us with big bulgy eyes! Turns out there is still a little of me with a craving for the nerdy satisfaction of a concrete diagnosis, the likes of which are rare in psychiatry.

The other high point of my evening was when my office mate, Keith, randomly called around 10pm to ask if we were swamped (we were) and if we wanted dinner (we did). He had the presence of mind to think that his colleages who were unfortunate enough to be on call might be disgruntled and hungry and took time out of his weekend to brighten our nights. With Japan Express. And extra white sauce. How awesome is that?

apology confessions

2008-05-02T14:32:00.004-04:00

This is a response to this post. Thanks for the blog fodder, Angela!

As a pathological apologizer, I have an insiders view on the misuse of sorry. Here is my confession, which I know will come back to haunt me, as it is a habit I am yet unable to drop and it will be worse now that the secret is out. There seems to be an irrational sense that "sorry" has a magical property that separates you from whatever action or shortcoming to which it is applied, making it uncharacteristic and un-owned. It has the illusion of giving distance. And not for intentional manipulative purposes...more to decrease conflict and anxiety, but it is still ultimately untruthful. And, it would seem, the very opposite of what a true apology is--the owning of something that requires forgiveness. Instead, it makes excuses and tries to cast a more positive light on ones actions. Sometimes it even frustrates legitimate irritation at an action, because, well, if the person is sorry, shouldn't you let it go? (this last one drives me crazy when it is done to me, but I know I am not wholy innocent). The truth is that "sorry" doesn't mandate forgiveness or negate the adverse effects of one's actions. But if you aren't paying attention, you'll forget that, and then you get caught in the squirm-inducing position between being legitimately irritated and feeling that you aren't allowed to be so.

Having laid bare the mechanics of one of my big defenses, the fear arises that any real apology will now be discarded as an imposter. This makes me think of Pastor Benji's comment about the importance of following an apology with a request for forgiveness--pretty hard to ask for forgiveness if you aren't really sorry. Essentially it is a matter of humility. A sorry as listed above is driven by pride not to be seen as associated with the object of the apology. With a true apology, one humbles themselves before the one whose forgiveness they are seeking and leaves it in their hand to raise them back up on their terms.

I have to say, I admire those who don't feel the need to misuse "sorry." Im working at it, but often it feels too scary. I wield it like a paper shield to ward off condemnation, shame, and scorn that seem inevitable to follow my every action. I am working at it, and now that you know what is behind it, I ask that you not have contempt for these facts, but to keep me accountable. Otherwise, I'll start saying I'm sorry for being sorry, and I will get caught in an endless loop until my head explodes, and that will be messy.....

victory!

2008-04-16T16:17:00.002-04:00

Those who know me well will understand the true weight of the following story. I went down to see a patient last night, and learned that she refused to talk to the ED doctor when she realized that doctor was not the psychiatrist. She said "I only want to talk to the real doctor." Yeah!!! Thats right. Im going store that story away but disremember the detail that she was floridly manic and delusional...

My beloved brother

2008-04-06T19:46:00.003-04:00

I discovered this picture while I was at home. If I had any restraint, I would wait until some charming story presented itself and I would put the picture up to enhance it. But I am deeply moved by the way it captures our love for one another and am just putting it up for no reason at all. From my brother's wedding reception. He is all business...

age vs. plague

2008-04-03T18:18:00.002-04:00

Well, I had been planning a post on how I'm clearly not aging very well, because just weeks after my 27th birthday, I came out of a Sunday night call into a whole week of feeling tired, needing to snooze for an extra half hour every day, and feeling slightly achey, courtesy of the nice firm plastic mattress that fills the call room. Call had not previously put me so far out of commission. But today I was half way through my 1:00 patient when I realized that every word was causing me pain. My throat was attempting to announce its official doneness with talking for the day, but I still had three more patients. Ugh. I don't get sick very often at all, which is probably why, when I do, I am officially the world's whiniest sick person. I am going to do my darnedest to keep it to myself (the whining, but I suppose the germs as well), but I can't make any promises. My forearms are tired from typing this. Oops..I guess that didn't last very long....

Fill 'er up!

2008-03-31T10:36:00.002-04:00

Today I filled my car up with gas for the very first time. I was perplexed, because after using 7/8 of my 12 gallon tank, I had only gone 380 miles. Granted, this would be wonderful gas mileage, but would not be the 45-50 I had anticipated. Strangely, though, I had only used approximately 8 gallons of gas, which worked out to a more acceptable 47ish. Which is exactly what my car was listing as my average. So evidently my gas gauge errs on the side of not running out of gas, which is probably a good thing for me. The exciting thing is that with 4 gallons of gas remaining, I should be able to go over 500 miles on one tank! Which means no stopping on my trips home to visit my folks. Weeee!!!

In unrelated news, I did have a fleeting fear that my car might blow up because of some mysterious errors in my gassing techniques, but all was completed safely. Who knew pumping gas could be such an adventure?!?

Foul tempters

2008-03-29T11:37:00.002-04:00

One of my first posts when I resurrected my blog last spring was on the 3+ times that I rejoined Gevalia. Time and time again I realize I'm drinking highly overpriced coffee and cancel the service only to be tempted back by the likes of a free 12 cup programmable coffee maker. This time it is different. In an effort to be a better citizen of planet earth, I have been purchasing fair trade coffee, and it turns out Gevalia has no options in that sphere. So I called today to cancel. Only to have them offer free shipping and handling for life if I continued my membership. They have no shame!!! And if it were for any other reason that I was cancelling, that certainly would have won me back, because without the shipping and handling, the coffee is not so horribly overpriced. Dang! I should have called and threatened to quit before I was actually ready to do so. They apparently reward disloyalty quite lavishly. But no. I am sticking to my plan and will be purchasing lovely fresh and greasy beans (as opposed to somewhat dried out and in a box) that someone actually got paid to harvest. Mmmm...fresh greasy coffee. I <3 it.

A few of my favorite things....

2008-03-26T09:41:00.003-04:00

Well...at least one of them is being a smart ass, which is why I felt the need to follow suit and entitle my post thusly.

I am currently sitting in my office catching up on paperwork and battling to quell the anxiety that the screaming child in the hallway keeps trying to pique. My friend Marcus agreed to cover an hour of walkins for me today so I can go to therapy. Im remembering why I like my job and realizing that a nonsensical frustration that I can't magically take away people's unhappiness is a major component of any disgruntledness. Im not sure where that delusion came from, but it is pretty ridiculous. Redundant news flash. It's not about me. Thinking ahead, trying to take care of things now, allowing myself to even think about things outside of my comfort zone. There's a random smattering of things floating through my brain at the moment.

Fwoof!

2008-03-22T20:42:00.006-04:00

Have I ever mentioned my dad gets out of control sometimes? Actually, I know I posted about it here. I received a package yesterday, and I had hopes that it would contain some multicolored Twizzlers and likely a beanie baby. When I opened it, I had to laugh out loud, because clearly my tiny little hopes were nothing in comparison to the reality of the candy goodness he had sent me (the black things are ghirardelli dark chocolate squares in mint, espresso, and "twilight delight"). Im going to refrain from spelling out any analogies this time, but you get the picture, and I'm off to descend into a sugar coma....

My new friend

2008-03-19T22:31:00.003-04:00

I am up past my bedtime, partly because I am a little excited. I haven't had a chance to take an actual picture yet, but it's something like this:

I considered sleeping in the back seat, but, spacious as it is, not really ideal for a big girl like me...

RIP RAV4

2008-03-12T16:06:00.002-04:00

Well. It's official. Two blown airbags and some minor bumper damage totalled over $6000. Total loss and they'll give me the value minus the deductible. Im actually quite sad. My parents bought me that car when I was 16. It has been my one and only. It has been to Maine and back twice, to Minnesota and back once, all over this state and Virginia. Two previous accidents (one my fault, one not), one computer frying (thank you Mark Jacobson). We have been through quite a lot. Sniff. Im going to miss my nameless car...

long winded of late

2008-03-09T15:45:00.006-04:00

If I were to make one sweeping statement today that likely could be proven wrong, I would say that routine is a growth killer. Those out there with better organization than myself have had a chance to become familiar with the virtues of a routine, but I have a tendency to cling for dear life to the comfortable and familiar, and it turns out it is the unexpected and different things in our days that tend to bring newness.

An unexpected person added some richness to my life today. When my dad and I went to pick up my usual church passengers, there was a third person there, Kezban. Country had asked if she wanted to go to church, and she had not given an answer. I told Country we had room and she was welcome to come, but for some reason she looked to me, not to see if she would be welcome, but if I thought it would be worth her while. "What do you think?" I encouraged her to come, and we all piled in the car. As we drove, we had a little bit of conversation, but I don't multitask well when more than one person is talking to me, so in my attempts to listen to what John had to say, I worried that I was not being a good listener to Kezban. Then we arrived at church, and they were lingering outside to grab coffee and smoke. But we were already a few minutes late, so my dad and I went on ahead inside. A few minutes later, Country and John came in and sat in their normal spots, and she sat behind them.

At a couple of moments during the service, I felt that I had really screwed the whole thing up. How much good does it do for me to say, "yeah, come to church, it's great!" but then not show any further hospitality and leave someone to sit by themselves? Am I really being loving if I only half invest and then hurry to get the worship experience I want? Poop. The cool thing is...Benji always talks about inviting someone to church and letting the church do the rest. Evidently (and quite frankly, consciously) I failed to trust that. Silly me. Do I really think I am so important that if I don't get every detail right, that it can't turn out better than if I did? (Add another mark to my recent "it's not about me" tally). She spoke afterwards about what a great experience it was. She enjoyed the message, enjoyed talking with a number of people, and was excited that someone prayed with her. She thought it was great. And I found myself thankful to be part of such a great community.

Now, the other point may seem really simple and stupid to everyone else, but Im posting it anyway. It had to do with the juxtaposition of two thoughts that seemed so unrelated that their combination really struck me... Kezban is an artist of sorts, and she had some prints that she was selling. I looked at them and there were some really nice ones. She said that she appreciated donations, but if there was one I really liked, that I could have it. I told her I was sorry I didn't have any money, but that the prints were lovely. She said "Whenever someone tells me they are sorry but they dont want to look at my art, I tell them 'Don't be sorry. Be yourself.'" Simple enough. But it spoke to two chronic problems I have. One being my perpetual apologies, and the other being my difficulty in just being myself. I have addressed them many times separately, but never realized that they tend to feed and build on one another. The majority of my "sorry"s that aren't of the empathic sort are not an apology for something I've done, but an apology for being what I am or for not being what I am not, and therefore are less benign than I would have imagined. It may be that it is more urgent than I thought to eliminate that habit.

Anyhoo, I was just reflecting on the cool things brought to my attention by an unexpected traveler, and I am thankful for the addition to my Sunday routine. Hope everyone is having a great weekend. Over and out.

Hollywood Revelations

2008-03-08T20:29:00.006-05:00

I was watching a movie today (yet another vain attempt at recovering my cultural relevance), and discovered, in the way I was reacting and hoping the movie would turn out, some unfortunate tendencies in myself. In watching any movie, there is often foreshadowing of some tension between the smooth desired outcome and and the way that "reality" tends to derail a story line. I'm guessing I'm not alone in the tendency to do an almost automatic mental search for a possible solution that would balance that tension. But in that tendency today, I noted a problem.

In siding with the protagonist of this movie, the requirements for a outcome comfortable to me would be that a) the protagonist gets what she wants and b) she doesnt have to do anything slimy to do it. So clearly, I want comfort and gratification without any sense of blame. What I realized today, was that I was still pulling for such an outcome, even if it meant bad things happening to other characters in the story. Granted, movies are usually set up to give you a more vested interest in the protagonist, but not any more interest that one would have in oneself. So I realized that my shortsightedness and disregard for my less favorite characters reflected in me a very perplexing failure to see past my own interests and justification to the bigger picture and true concern for those that I interact with that might limit my ability to get my own way.

Yowza. Talk about humbling. I don't want to be that person. I didn't realize that was lurking there. Ugh. I deeply want to have my eyes opened to the bigger production of which I am a small part. A loved part, a part with a purpose, but just a part. I want to turn my view from myself, and be more interested in what God is doing all around me and what I can do to be a part of it. I know that I can't do it myself, or I will remain focused on me and changing my focus :) But I pray for new eyes to see and value and love more outside myself.

Happy day after my birthday to meee....

2008-03-08T09:13:00.002-05:00

I'll start this post by reporting that Toyota makes the world's most sensitive airbags, which is wonderful for high speed dangerous collisions, but not so much for the mild rainy day variety. I was driving home from work yesterday, and the car in front of me slammed on its brakes so as not to hit the car in front of it. It succeeded, but I did not. The damage was minimal, their bumper, my bumper, no fenders/hoods/metal stuff involved. Except. Both airbags in my car deployed. Thank you for $5000 extra damage. Sigh. Thank goodness for insurance, and I decided that I have to have an accident every 10 years or so just to make sure Im getting my premiums' worth.

So Im stuck on the side of 54, in the pouring down rain. Cop shows up, asks what happened, asks for my license, hands me an incident sheet to fill out. I stand, trying to find a pen and my wallet in my smoke-filled car, and the paper gets completely drenched. I eventually make my necessary phone calls and go sit in the police car to fill out the paper work. I don't have my license with me. Turns out not to be a problem, as the car is registered to me. I hand him the completely limp drenched paper and suggest that I might need another. Im feeling extremely cool and put together at this point. Sigh. While I am filling out my new dry sheet, it comes to my attention that Mr. Police Officer has dropped the other girl's license into the radio console between the front seats. He has cut his finger trying to take the console apart, but he can't get it out. The girl is leaving for FL tomorrow and must have the license, and he keeps muttering "I can't believe I dropped it in there." I finish my paper and start trying to finagle some way to get the license out. He hands me the screwdriver and says "Here, since you are sitting on that side, could you take the two screws off that side?" So Im sitting, soaking wet in the police car, assisting in its dismantling. I take the side off, the cop says something to the effect of "sweet!" and proceeds to try to pull the top off. He is about to give up, when I point out that it is just velcroed down, so we give it a good tug and off it comes. Woohoo! Day is saved! I helped him put the car back together and sat and waited for the tow trucks. All in all, quite the adventure.

A big shout out to Annie who rescued me from my plight and from the potential demise of all the crap (clothes, bags, games, tools, books) that were filling my car, as there was nothing to do with them in the pouring down rain. It's a blessing to have friends that will drop what they are doing to rescue when you do something stupid and only laugh at you a little bit. :)

Luckily my parents are in town and can tote me around until I can get a rental car. I thought about car-pooling, but I think I'll have some trouble finding someone heading Asheboro way come Tuesday.

Thank you for tuning into this episodes of Adventures in Spazzdom. Til next time...

Oh what a day

2008-03-06T21:35:00.004-05:00

Today was my frivolous birthday off, and it was a truly wonderful day. Full of sunshine, clear blue skies, wonderful friends, good food, good wine, and some impressive sunburn. Oh, and my first massage. Really, best day in a long time. Thank you to everyone who made my day so lovely. Big love to you all.

On advocacy

2008-03-04T15:16:00.004-05:00

Who is he that condemns? Christ Jesus, who died--more than that, who was raised to life--is at the right hand of God and is also interceeding for us. (Romans 8:34)

The verse was a topic of discussion last night along with regard to Jesus as our advocate by intercession. We were discussing the extent to which we try to justify ourselves to God on our own, and I suddenly had vivid memories of my court day in Harnett County. It was civil court, and a unique sample of the NC population to begin with, and there was a recurrent phenomenon that was intriguing and somewhat painful. The lawyer would be convincingly pleading his client's case when the client would start tugging at the lawyer's coat, wanting him to add something in. The lawyer, would try to subtly dismiss this interruption until, unable to be quiet any longer, the client would yell out something, often something daming such as "Im not violent, but after the case of beer...". I cringed every time. Why didnt they just realize that their case was in far more able hands than their own and that if they just hushed up things might turn out in their favor?

Hmmm.... We want to plead our case, justify ourselves, but no amount of explaining or bargaining or promising could ever clear our record. In fact, our attempts to do so only serve as a barrier to our acceptance of the grace that is available through the one who died, was raised, and now sits at God's right hand, pleading our cases. Our continued striving is no less ridiculous than the desperate attempts of our good friends in Harnett to add an extra word of help to their case. Makes sitting back and trusting seem pretty prudent....

Mmm

2008-03-02T19:53:00.003-05:00

My garage smells like grass clippings. As ridiculous as it felt in the midst of our current drought and it's impact on our lawns, I noted that my yard was looking scruffy today and I decided to give it a neat new buzz cut. I know very few people (with one exception that has actually mowed my lawn for me) who would agree with this, but I just love mowing my lawn. It is seriously the only reason I shunned a townhouse or condo. I wanted to mow.

My house growing up had a couple of acres of lawn, and I would go out on the riding mower with whatever music I had on tape that was loud enough to hear over the motor (I seem to recall Ace of Base and No Doubt getting a lot of air time). And I would bounce along for an hour or so daydreaming about anything and neurotically trying to get the corners to turn tight enough to maintain a pleasing pattern in the grass.

And now with my push mower, it still brings me great happiness. Out in yard, feeling the spring sun shining down on me, working with my hands, using some strength and energy, breathing in the smell of the freshly cut grass. It makes me a lot happier than it should. And doesnt daunt my timid hiding creative energies with too many possibilities the way gardening still does (Im planning to conquer this, yet, though).

I hope you have all picked up on the fascinating nuances of this deep and contemplative post. If not, it's you, not me. Yeah.

remember me?

2008-03-01T11:49:00.006-05:00

I warned of the dry spell, but who knew I actually meant it? The lack of posting is not indicative of lack of activity and thoughts. It is in part due to my Lenten online inactivity, but even without that, Im not sure what I would have been posting. It has been a month of flux, good things, but shifts and changes, and amorphous new places. It is easier for me to reflect when I reach a rest where I can look around and take stock of my surroundings, but I have the strange sensation that Im in motion right now, and it is hard to comment from within the current.

Maybe it is a matter that it is easy for me to comment on what's happening when Im trying to do it. When I know what I am thinking and where I want to be going with it. But it is a new thing for me to feel realize that journey is not in my hands and I don't know what the destination looks like, or even necessarily what the current process is called. And Ive tried to talk about it, and find myself not being able to come up with anything to say that seems connected to what I can sense going on. Strangely that is not frustrating me much, which is new for me. I have had a delusion that if someone else can't see and validate my experience that maybe I am mistaken about it's reality, but that fear is not with me currently.

Life is good. Im not striving to make it good-er, not wishing to speed ahead to some event that will confirm it to be good, not meddling to build up a powerless sense of goodness. Funny how the ceasing of my mental energy that aimed to hold my world together has not resulted in it's dissolution. Just allowed me to be in it in peace. I'm thankful it's in hands infinitely more powerful, wise, and loving of me than my own.

bright sunshiney day, or, Jiffy Lube be d*%&ed

2008-02-09T16:24:00.000-05:00

Days like today are so therapeutic to my soul. The feel of the air on my skin and the clarity of light on the world around me fill me with a very happy, peaceful feeling. Something about this kind of day also lends itself good dirty working with your hands. So today the illustrious Robert Wagner gave me a lesson in changing my own oil. He did an excellent job of instructing me, and even pointed out that I should not drop the bolt into the pan of oil that already was half full from his vehicle, but luckily 26 years of clumsiness have prepped me to think of these things in advance, and my guard was already up. And aside from a near miss of getting my hair in the oil I dripped on the driveway (they swear the rain will wash it away), it went very smoothly. I feel oh so accomplished.

Pretty cool

2008-01-29T10:13:00.001-05:00

I recently purchased some books at amazon. I have heard and read amazing quotes from the writings of Henri Nouwen over the past year, and had been wanting to read something of his. As a kookoo psychiatrist, the title "The Wounded Healer", which my father read and muchly liked, kept occurring to my mind this past month, and I wanted to buy it. On impulse, knowing nothing more about it than the two lines I read online, I decided to purchase another of his books as well. It arrived today, and it made me cry. It is as though someone has been watching me the past 2 to 3 to 500 weeks of my life, with priveledged view into my heart along with my brain's not so gentle judgement on it, and decided to write a book to me. It is unbelievable.

On a tangentially related note, I am feeling a dry season for the blogging coming up (as opposed to the super-dependable daily posts that have been occurring...uhhh...yeah....), so don't waste too many mouse clicks checking in. Granted, everytime I say that something happens I want to post about, but we shall see....

my drug of choice

2008-01-26T14:35:00.000-05:00

I am doing some scholarly reading today in an effort to improve my effectiveness as a physician (not a real one, of course), and I opened my book to find the following:

"A controversial possible substance of abuse is chocolate derived from the cacao bean. Anandamide, an ingredient in chocolate, stimulates the same receptors as marijuana. Other compounds in chocolate include tryptophan, the precursor of serotonin, and phenylalanine, an amphetamine-like substance, both of which improve mood. So-called chocolholics may be self-medicating because of a depressive diathesis."

I am making the commitment today to be more compliant with my chocolate regimen....

really brilliant stuff.... or not...

2008-01-24T19:23:00.000-05:00

Well, it appears that the cold and dark have officially had their way in getting me back out of shape. I tried to go for a run today..only my 2nd or 3rd since Christmas, and I could run all of about 1/3 mile before having to walk. Im blaming the cold air in my lungs, to preserve the delusion that no deconditioning has taken place.

So as I was walking home, I crossed the parkway to avoid a car that had creepily stopped in the middle of the road where I would soon be walking, and made my way up to the lake. It was powerfully still, with Orion and many other constellations shining above and the streetlights and homes reflected in the water. It was a very real moment. After feeling like a big bundle of tangled thoughts and emotions for days on end, it was nice to sit and remember the fact that I exist as an solid, external reality and a part of a big, wondrous creation. Then my fingers threatened to break off from cold and I meandered on home. The end.

Not so Harry Potter like...

2008-01-21T16:28:00.000-05:00

Today is a cold disgruntling sort of day. Therefore, I have decided to sacrifice my dignity *snicker* for the interest of the greater good and hope to bring a laugh or at least a disparaging shake of the head to my readers. In response to JD's inquiry on the nature of the photograph discussed a few days back, no, it was not in motion. The only evidence of action is the ball flying through the air and my hair trailing out behind me. The picture below was viewed by hundreds of readers of the Potomac News in the late 1990s. As I am at the baseline, this is the end of the slide, and I have already procured the ball and flung it backwards over my head, all while in motion on my knees. Needless to say, I traveled. It was a bad pass to me to begin with. It sounded so much more heroic when the details were left vague... Sigh...

ewww

2008-01-19T09:06:00.000-05:00

I had a nightmare last night about ladybugs. And not just any old ladybugs...intelligent organized ones. At the beginning of the dream, I was in a barracks-type place on a bunk bed. My office mate, Keith, was on the neighboring bunk bed and was noting the disorder of my own bunk. I pointed out that this was because I slept with my head at whatever end of the bed I felt like on a given night--I was flexible. But then I noted that the end of the bed I was going to place my head at that night was covered with little bits of ladybug. I freaked out a little bit and surveyed the room. Ladybugs EVERYWHERE. There was no bug spray, so I grabbed a can of lavender glade and a flashlight (for some reason, couldnt turn the lights on) and started spraying them. The first few died after just a moment of spraying, but they seemed to grow hardier as I went along. I noted one just opened its mouth (clearly they were somewhat large) and drank the spray I was spraying at it, but it eventually went down too. I thought they might all be gone, but I kept seeing dark shapes flitting past in my peripheral vision. I noted that some of the carnage was still moving, and sprayed the carcasses a little extra. Then I saw something moving and noticed it was three ladybugs working together to lift a penny and use it as protection against the spray! I dont know if i ever rid the room of the little beasts, but I am certainly glad that my dream did not have olfactory effects. Blech...

Do I have to go to school on my birthday?

2008-01-12T09:41:00.001-05:00

There was a song in 4th grade chorus by that title that has been stuck in my head since yesterday. I posted a little while back on my difficulty in planning vacations. A fire has now been lit under my butt in the form of a new rule that any vacation days being requested less than 8 weeks in advance have to be approved by the dept chair! I panicked because the first day I wanted to take was 7 weeks and 6 days from the day this rule was announced.

As can probably be guessed from the title, this day is my birthday. I am a little excessively excited by the frivolous decision that I dont want to be at work on my birthday. Esp since it is a Thursday, which tend to be busy days. So I have decided to use one of my vacation days to take that day off and do whatever the heck I want! None of the sense of obligation that sometimes comes with real vacations. No trying to take care of things that I dont have time to do other days. I am going to do as I very well please. I'm contemplating treating myself to my first real massage. I havent thought much further than that, but I will come up with more. It will probably involve chocolate. The anticipation may be more therapeutic than the actual day itself, but I am super pleased.

Now to make a plan for the other 14 days. It's gonna be a good spring....

Oweee

2008-01-10T20:54:00.000-05:00

From the ages of 13 to 17 I severely abused my body through the outlets of basketball, volleyball, and soccer. I have a picture that made it into the local paper of me sliding from the foul line all the way to the baseline on my knees in an attempt to save a ball. I slid the first half on sweat, the second half on the little rolled up pieces of skin that were being sheared off my knees. I jammed my pinkie on a volleyball such that it bent in two different planes for a few months. I even had a permanent little hematoma in my R knee that I could move around on top of my kneecap. My family used to comment that if I kept it up when I was a little old lady, I wouldnt be able to walk. But aside from the known injury of my bum ankle (which resulted in my fall..oh, which one?..the one in the middle of woodcroft parkway), I was pretty convinced that I was sturdy and invincible and none of my dives, kicks, or jams would result in any lasting distress.

Except days like today remind me that is not the case, and I realize agedness is setting in. It is my only climate-sensitive injury, but senior year of high school, William Monroe High School, soccer season. I went down for a save, lying on my side with my hands on the ball. Their star forward...we called her tank girl...put all her power behind a kick that bend all the fingers in my hand back to an acute angle. My hand swelled up to about twice the normal thickness. Then returned to the right size as though nothing had ever happened.

And Im suddenly realizing that the throbbing pain in my hand during my run today just made me start an inane and rambling post, with which I have no eartly idea where I was going. So I am going to go now, and leave this here for lack of anything profound to discuss this evening.

An interesting prospect

2008-01-06T19:00:00.000-05:00

It would appear that if I had a job that required me to do more writing, I might become a world-renowned concert pianist. Not quite a clear connection? I am currently working on writing something for which I am experiencing a fair amount of avoidance. So every few minutes, I get up from it and play a song on my piano. I have already played more this evening that I have in at least the past week, likely longer. If I had a substantial project to work on, I would be certain to aquire some impressive skills from all the little escapes my brain requires me to take. However, I think I would rather remain a mediocre tinkerer who only on rare occasion has to undertake such compositions. :P

Stolen thoughts

2008-01-02T21:02:00.000-05:00

I liked this, from The Signature of Jesus:

"The Gentleness of Jesus with sinners flowed from his ability to read their hearts and to detect the sincerity and goodness there. Behind men's grumpiest poses and most puzzling defense mechanisms, behind their arrogance and airs, behind their sneers and curses, Jesus saw little children who hadn't been loved enough and who had ceased growing because someone had ceased believeing in them."

It seems that's the hardest part. When we can see the fragile truths of people, it is easier to have compassion. When it is hidden behind those defense mechanisms, arrogance, sneers, our own defenses are piqued and our pride elbows love out of the way, saying "Leave this to me, I'll handle it." Our brains seem to want to keep things simple (I may elaborate later) and it is easier to see those defenses as the whole rather than as the tough shell on something far more complex. And we treat the person as though they were the defense and not the child behind it. Also funny the masks we wear to hide the very truths about us that draw that gentleness. But in a fallen world, those truths leave one vulnerable and it can seem safer to be treated harshly with armor in place than to offer a soft flank to the world's spears.

No points, conclusions, just brain churnings....

little things

2008-01-01T13:27:00.000-05:00

I have spent most of the day so far parked on my sofa reading. After a few days in a row of cleaning my house, I am enjoying allowing myself to do whatever I want without any "shoulds" directing my activities. And in that, I am taking notice of a lot of little things that make me happy. Some lovely, some silly. The windchime that my sister-in-law's parents gave me for Christmas, that every once in a while peals out a rich chord, pleasing to the ears and a reminder of the activity of the wind outside. The sunlight streaming in through my kitchen blinds, making my green paint ever so slightly bothersome to the retinas, but pleasant nonetheless. The fact that my blog now has a heading for a whole new year of inane posts. The fact that a warm mug of coffee provides the perfect center for a little drawn up cozy ball. The determination of the puny grass in my yard to grow after just one heavy rainfall. The easy peelability of clementines, and the compulsion to take the skin off in one whole piece. Nothing profound. But uplifting to my spirit. :)

Gonna let it all hang down....

2008-01-01T00:16:00.000-05:00

Umm...that being that it's after midnight. Happy 2008 everyone!!!

Ooo, fun!

2007-12-29T20:45:00.000-05:00

So that was my very first post here with picture, and it was used to display my poo-shaped truffles.... But it turns out pictures are fun! Here is one of my very favorite presents from Christmas, made by a friend's aunt. It's better in person, esp since the bow is crooked in these shots, but after I fixed it I kept getting blurry pictures, so this is what you get. The light is white, like the one taken without the flash.

Chocolate Thunder from Down Under?

2007-12-29T20:30:00.000-05:00

While I was home, my father regifted this lovely box of Belgian Truffles to me

Look how elegant they are in their little box
.
But it was then suggested that their shape was somewhat less than appealing. I totally dont get what the problem would possibly be... They look lovely and delicious. Anyone want one?

cleaning house

2007-12-29T03:51:00.000-05:00

Yeah, Im not generally a 4am blogger, but a) Ive been having a bit of breathing trouble that has disturbed my sleep the past two nights, and b) I had a really cool dream and I felt like posting it. The last time I posted a dream, I silly-ly requsted any attempts at interpretation, not quite expecting what I got. Generally I am kind of slow in seeing what dreams are about, but occasionally there is something overt that I get, and that was the case tonight, and it was a strangely comforting and comfortable dream.

Also, I think it is neat that immediate real life events can appear in dreams as symbols, because normally I would just mistake this for just dreaming about things that are stressing me out that have nothing else behind them. For example, this dream takes place in my very very messy room, (which in reality is on my list for things to take care of, prefereably a couple days ago). In my dream my room is both messier than it actually is right now, but also clearly in a state of half being cleaned up. But still a frickin mess. The appalling part, was that two of my very close friends were wandering around in this room occasionally picking up things that were lying about and examining them, very non-chalantly, all the while joking and conversing with me like nothing was going on. I was rather startled by the fact that they were there, and I even said something to the effect that I couldn't believe that they were seeing my room in that state of disorder, seeing this state in which I live. But this didn't faze them, and in fact, they seemed rather defiantly unbothered by my mess and didn't play into my feeling bad about it. And I knew that despite all my protesting, I was surprisingly okay and even somewhat comforted by the fact that they were there. Mess and all.

I thought this was pretty cool, and it made me thankful that I have friends that have managed to convince even my unconscious that they really do love and accept me as I am. And that as a result, I am better able to accept myself. *insert warm fuzzies here*

Incidentally, it is probably a bad sign that during the dream someone was explaining to a child that all the wheezing I was doing was because of a spit-like substance blocking my airways. I wish I had some albuterol.....

Christmas Olympics 2007

2007-12-26T10:17:00.000-05:00

It's all fun and games until someone gets hurt. After the stunning shower gymnastics routine of the summer olympics, the judges decided to add porch diving to the winter schedule. I jest, but it seriously freaked me out. Maybe it's because Im not a real doctor--I think it is more being upset by seeing people I love get hurt/potentially hurt, but I didnt handle it so well.

My brother and dad were trying to wheel my 93 year old uncle down the steep stairs of our front porch. Warren was slowly lowering the front of the chair while my dad pulled hard from behind to keep it from going too fast. All was going well until the bottom step, when my dad's hands were below his feet and the wheels slipped forward from under the seat, flipping my uncle back on his head and pulling my dad, head first on top of him. I mean head first. Like a pile driver into the sidewalk and my uncle's head. He couldnt extracate himself, and I started getting worked up. Asking if he was okay, but wanting to cry and throw up and run away all at the same time. Useful, eh? Good thing I'm a psychiatrist. I mean, once he was up, I was able to look at his finger, from which all the skin had been avulsed and with the fingernail askew, and say..uhh...that needs stitches. Turns out they had to take the entire nail off...not like the top part, but nail bed and all. *puke* *shudder*. But aside from skinning the top of his head, he was otherwise fine, and my uncle was just mad about it until they gave him a percocet and he decided that it was time to be giddy instead.

Sigh. Everyone is okay today. I give the performance an 8.8 overall. He definitely stuck the landing, but points were deducted for all the blood on the sidewalk....

Home sweet home

2007-12-22T22:13:00.001-05:00

I am officially home for Christmas. I asked my granny what fun trick she was going to do this year to provide me with blog fodder (you know, drinking herself under furniture, falling out of the shower with a bag over her head), but she denies currently having anything planned. Maybe she's going to surprise us all....

Slackin'

2007-12-19T21:52:00.001-05:00

So I fully intended to tell all about my exciting court day, but I have been tired. I got to the courthouse at 9am, and finally testified around 4:45. But it was a day rich in NC culture. Hopefully I will be untired and share more before I lose interest and post about something different :)

Court Day

2007-12-17T07:01:00.000-05:00

So I'm hoping that as I'm all snazzed up in my suit, they will forgive me a stammer here or there. Probably not though--I was advised that my skirt suit might earn me some points because "old fashioned can go a long way in these rural counties"--playing that game makes me feel icky inside. But that suit is 6 years old, and I decided that the frump might outweigh the old-fashioned. So pants it is. Hard decisions for the morning...

I heart this song

2007-12-15T11:56:00.000-05:00

Sanctus Real--I'm Not Alright

If weakness is a wound
That no one wants to speak of
Then “cool” is just how far we have to fall
I am not immune I only want to be loved
But I feel safe behind the firewall
Can I lose my need to impress?
If you want the truth, I need to confess

I’m not alright
I’m broken inside, broken inside
And all I go through
It leads me to you, it leads me to you

Burn away the pride
Bring me to my weakness
Until everything I hide behind is gone
And when I’m open wide
With nothing left to cling to
Only you are there to lead me on
Cause honestly, I’m not that strong

I’m not alright
I’m broken inside, broken inside
And all I go through
It leads me to you, it leads me to you

And I move, and I move, and I move...closer to you
I’m not alright...that’s why I need you

So much drama

2007-12-13T19:38:00.000-05:00

I was officially served a subpoena to appear in court for the first time today. Surprisingly dramatic when two cops approached with intimidating postures while I was trying to lead one of my psychotic patients out of the clinic. Im sure that will help rapport-building. After asking them to wait a moment while I showed her out, they presented me with the subpoena, printed on chartreuse paper--I guess they want to make sure you don't misplace it among your paperwork, but seriously. It looked like a flyer for the circus.

So now, instead of manning the walk-in clinic as had been my Monday plan, I will be driving to the town of Lillington, NC, in Harnett County to give a deposition in a custody case for which we did not do a custody evaluation. I tried to tell the slimy attorney this, but he said I was being "dismissive" and that the judge will expect me to answer the questions that I refused to answer to the attorney over the phone. Well DUH.

My primary concerns? First, the attending nicely volunteered to ride with me, but since discovered he has an appointment, so Ill have to go all by my lonesome. Second, in the guidelines from the legal dept, I learned that everything I say "including every 'um' and every stuttered phrase" will be written down. Have any of you ever heard me talk when I was anxious, or afraid I might be misunderstood or misconstrued? Stutter-city. SIGH. But whatever, I dont have anything to contribute since we didnt do a custody eval, so my catch phrase will be "I am not able to comment on that." Sweet!

Ah the dramatic life of a resident psychiatrist. Beatings, depositions, threats...what more could you ask for?

Wonder of wonders

2007-12-12T11:44:00.000-05:00

I couldnt believe my eyes. So I had to test it with my mouth. The vending machine downstairs from my office now carries Coffee Crisp! And in two separate slots, at that! Sure, they cost almost double what they do at Target, but with that convenience, it is a very dangerous thing. I like danger :) Huzzah!

Well played, God

2007-12-10T21:32:00.000-05:00

Today I've had one of those day's when various things I have been noticing in my journey all turned out to be part of a bigger plot that would change my heart. Amazing that I have known about Christ since I could talk, have known the Christ that loved me enough to die for my sins and with whom I am to have a personal relationship for a good 10 years, and somehow managed until now to fail to know the Christ that fully accepts me just the way I am, not the way I think I am when I tuck away all the less attractive parts and pretend they dont exist, but kookoo, tactless, selfish, sinful me. I mean..obviously I'd heard it was true, but failed to know it.

God is sneaky sometimes, and yet you'd think I could have seen it earlier. Obviously therapy has been a process of even daring to admit that certain yucky parts exist, hidden from my own view because they are unsightly. A book was recently placed in my hand that describes grace, a concept that I thought my Lutheran upbringing had pretty well explained, in a way that is beautiful and compelling. God has placed friends in my life who let me know that they accept and love me, brokenness and all (which is an amazing blessing, as I dont think the knowledge could have penetrated my heart without His showing me first hand through others). And today I read two lines of text, one saying that a certain person was Christ to another person, and the other saying that she accepted that person for who she was. And suddenly, I saw these not as two closely related facts, but one that followed, by definition from the other.

And somehow all of these pieces came into view at the same time this afternoon, arranging a space in my heart for the understanding of what it means that Christ accepts me exactly as I am. No changes, no ideals, no hidings, no strivings. Exactly as I am right now. It doesnt seem like rocket science or anything new when I type it here, but the freedom it planted in my heart today was indescribable. What do I need to hide? What is there to fear? What can separate me from the love of Christ? Nothing x 3. Does this mean I'll stop being a nut-job? No, but it's okay because Christ loves me that way anyway. So there.

Advances

2007-12-06T20:39:00.001-05:00

I committed my first major boundary violation of the Christmas season today. I accepted a gift from a patient. A very cute little snowman mug with a pen shaped like a flower. I had to ask my attending if I was allowed to accept it, and it turns out psychotic people are more fair game to accept gifts from than the personality disordered or therapy patients. I've officially started down the slippery slope toward sleeping with my patients.....

More evidence for childlikeness

2007-12-04T20:19:00.000-05:00

From the Ragamuffin Gospel:

"Jesus cuts to the heart of the matter as He sets the child on His knee. The child is unself-conscious, incapable of pretense. I am reminded of the night little John Dyer, three years old, knocked on our door.....He narrowed his eyes with the apocalyptic glint of an aimed gun. 'Where's the cookies?' he demanded.

"The kingdom belongs to people who aren't trying to look good or impress anybody, even themselves. They are not plotting how they can call attention to themselves, worrying about how their actions will be interpreted or wondering if they will get gold stars for their behavior. Twenty centuries later, Jesus speaks pointedly to the preening ascetic trapped in the fatal narcissism of spiritual perfectionism, to those of us caught up in boasting about our victories in the vineyard, to those of us fretting and flapping about our human weaknesses and character defects. The child doesn't have to struggle to get himself in a good position for having a relationship with God; he doesn't have to craft ingenious ways of explaining his position to Jesus; he doesnt have to create a pretty face for himself; he doesnt have to achieve any state of spiritual feeling or intellectual understanding. All he has to do is happily accept the cookies: the gift of the kingdom."

Yay. I like cookies.....

Planning problems

2007-12-02T20:09:00.000-05:00

There is a reason I never travel anywhere fun or exciting. It requires advance planning, a skill of which I have a dramatic lack. I think the only way it would ever work would be if I could have a prevacation vacation. A couple days off months in advance of the real vacation, during which I could get a sense of what I would want to do if I had some free time. Because in the thick of life, thinking about vacation makes me tired--how sad is that?

Currently my family has spent the past month trying to get me to commit to something for the week of Christmas. But my brain immediately protests that it can't think about that until it feels less overwhelmed (by what? I dont know..). And I hate it, because I know skiing would be fun, and contrary to popular belief, I think time goes slower or at least is easier to account for when it is full of fun things. But right now, I cannot think of anything more lovely than to vegetate and drink egg nog and play with my brother's dogs and waste oxygen.

I was hoping to travel to London sometime during the Spring...maybe I'll have to use Christmas break to plan a real vacation....

poverty of thought

2007-11-27T19:20:00.001-05:00

Im on night float this week. As of this morning, had acheived about 6 hours of sleep (in 2 hour installments) over the preceeding 48 hours. Got a 2 hour and a 5 hour nap today, so am feeling a little more human, but am impressed the extent to which my brain is turned off. Aside from when I am assessing patients, I am refusing to think, likely because everything starts spinning around and doesnt make any sense. It's safer just to refrain. Gosh I love my sleep....

Quest for a childlike spirit

2007-11-25T17:14:00.000-05:00

Now I realize Im setting myself up here. Many might say my inner child is all too found, but Im not so sure that is true. Yes, I enjoy all the perks that immaturity has to offer, and I scoff at the idea of growing up, but Im thinking of something entirely different here. I first saw it today when I was volunteering in the children's ministry at church. There was singing, complete with some rather energetic motions. And I initially was doing them somewhat reservedly and aloofly. And then I decided that was silly, as I was in a room full of kids, and I let loose and did "I get down, and he lifts me up" until my knees were jello and I had a wee bit of angina, and I was struck by how different something so simple felt to me.

This obvious opportunity to forget what a fool I might look like and be one of the kids gave me a taste of freedom from the chokehold that self-doubt has been gradually tightening around my heart. For all my insistance that I am not really a grown-up, I can hardly remember the child that was spinning madly out into the world (not unlike the tazmanian devil--my poor family..) without a thought of the scorn or shame I might encounter. But I tasted it there for a moment, and pondered it some more as I was walking tonight.

I tried that perspective back on for size, and was again refreshed by looking out at the world as something new and fresh and not understood instead of sitting in the broken ruts that my brain has traveled over and over and over again. It's amazing how much more there is to look at when you are on the inside looking out instead of the outside looking in (there you go, JD, Im disposing of the third person perspective). There was a palpable sense of leniency for all my imperfections, as I escape the critical scrutiny of my own eye. And it took no great cerebral effort--just the putting on of a more childlike outlook. It is tenuous, but if I could hang onto even an inkling of that child, I could see better, love better, live better. Unafraid and unhindered. The very thought refreshes me....

thankful ramblings

2007-11-22T15:32:00.000-05:00

I am sitting in the hospital, waiting to see if people start rolling in with tryptophan-induced psychosis, and thinking about those things that I am thankful for. Here are some of the more tangible things in no particular order:

* the sky, which somedays looks so far away and changes from one beautifully colored array to another every few minutes in the mornings and evenings * my house, which is sturdy and sound and protects me from the elements * music of all sorts * wonderful friends who are hilarious and caring and creative and deep and silly and who very convincingly pretend to like me :) and bring me great joy * my job and the help in making it through school to get here and the ways I get to interact with people every day * my dad who sends little reminders to let me know he loves me and who is always there for me no matter what * the beautiful fall leaves that have been becoming more and more lovely just when I thought they should be falling to the ground * my church and community of faithful people where I can learn and grow and see people join together to worship our God * my car that takes me where I want to go when I want to go * running, that it has become enjoyable and made me stronger * my health * smiles exchanged with strangers * books * my big brother who no longer beats me up but instead encourages me * chocolate * that I have food to eat every day * senses that remain intact and relatively sharp * weather that is compatible with life * my mom, who always made sure we had clean clothes and warm food and thougtful manners * coffee * that I dont have trouble breathing, walking, sleeping * the nice trails throughout my community * my entire family who just called me to wish me a happy thanksgiving by speakerphone :) *

Ive limited this list to more concrete things Im thankful for that don't cause me to resort to using Swahili. Of course I am thankful for my relationship with God, the reconciliation of that relationship through Christ, and all the amazing and mysterious things He is doing in my life. That I belong to Him and He loves me and that nothing can separate me from that love. I can't begin to do my thankfulness for those things justice here, but didn't want anyone to think that their absence from my list had implications about their importance to me.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

On the first day of....uhh...Christmas?

2007-11-20T22:36:00.001-05:00

Now I know I've made a huge leap from resisting early Christmas to starting a pre-Thanksgiving post with the 12 days of Christmas, but a something funny is happening here. Some of you will know that my father has a very serious problem. Specifically a beanie baby addiction. Now, granted, it is socially unacceptable for a 59 year old man to amass a huge collection of beanie babies, so of course he buys them for me. He cannot resist. It has long been out of control. I do have a horde of lovely Christmas beanies which I am pleased to decorate at the holidays (as well as Halloween and Easter).

Yesterday, I received a box from my father, the contents of which was a cute gingerbread couple--Hansel and Gretel. I called him and made fun of him a little and thanked him and went on my way. Except tonight I found an identical box in my mailbox. I laughed outloud before I even opened it. Sure enough, a lovely little snowman couple--Coolston and Coolstina (really?!?). Now Im going to ignore any implications that he is trying to drop hints here and just focus on the how fun it is that he is sending me a series of festive holiday boxes. Except now he has my hopes up to see if anything arrives Friday... Ill keep you all posted.

Giving in

2007-11-19T22:38:00.000-05:00

So... I dont remember if it was last year or the year before that I began boycotting early Christmas music. Last year I resisted until just a couple weeks before Christmas before I would listen. I even reprogrammed a few radio stations. I love Christmas music, but was feeling that if I listened to it for a full two months, it would be old by Christmas time, so I was protecting my excitement for it. And I had every intention of doing so again this year. 101.5 and 93.9 were already officially off my radar. Until this morning, when I inadvertantly flipped past 101.5 and found the Bare Naked Ladies and Sarah McLaughlin singing God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen/We Three Kings, which I greatly enjoy. And I stayed and bopped along to it, and without my permission that excited Christmas anticipation stirred in me, and I was officially ruined, and am ready! I guess it is kind of okay since I dont actually get Thanksgiving, I'll accept a longer than usual period of happy Christmas-ness. Yay!