Carry That Weight

I love health law. I very actively worked to get back to working in health law, after two year hiatus. I find everything about it fascinating.

But there is this part to my job…. a part with which I have a love/hate relationship. It’s the medical records. It’s the cases, the stories, the realization that each of these law suits represents a family whose loved one had an outcome that wasn’t expected.

I’ve read some pretty awful stuff.

And, you see, the thing about working in the legal field….. I can’t share it. I can’t talk to anyone about it. It’s all in my head….babies who have died, mothers who have died giving birth to their babies, children who are horribly sick, children who have died in their mothers’ arms. I sometimes dream about them, having never met them. I have a picture in my mind of what each of them looked like….. and the providers who, either caused their deaths/illnesses/injuries or tried desperately to help them, depending on who you ask. It can be either. It can be both. Sometimes medical providers screw up. Sometimes families don’t understand the difference between the results not being what they had hoped versus negligence or malpractice. Often times it’s some weird somewhere in the middle. There isn’t always a perfect outcome. Things don’t always go as planned.

But it’s there. Every single case I’ve ever worked on is there, and it stays with me throughout each day, and it reminds me of what’s important in life and what isn’t, and it forces me to think about things I would never have thought of, and it makes me a much more thorough (and slightly neurotic) patient and patient’s mother, and it makes me so thankful for every single day I have with the people I love.

Each case is a person, and I, for whatever reason, seem to carry each of them with me.

Next week there will probably be another.

Enjoy the silence

As I approached the elevator, a man maybe 20 years my senior got on at the same time. I smiled politely. There was a moment of silence…. and then…. he started to speak. Random things that were awkward and uncomfortable, but clearly his attempt at small talk. And of course I felt obligated to respond, as if to help him in this endeavor…. and as I walked away, I wondered why he, like so many of us, is so afraid of silence.


What’s wrong with silence anyway?


Have you ever had a friend or colleague who simply can’t be quiet? I mean this in not a critical way, you see, because so many of us are uncomfortable with any pause in conversation, any moment of silence, any quiet.


But there is beauty in quiet. There is joy in silence.


Sometimes there is so much worth in simply saying nothing.

My daughter the protester

The kiddo and I attended the Good Friday event at a local Planned Parenthood. It draws huge crowds every year, and this year was no exception.

I tried my best to explain to her in 3-year old terms why so many people on the other side of the fence (literally and figuratively) were so angry. Eventually she asked "Mommy, why all those grownups not want ladies to see the doctors?" I told her I would explain it better when she was older, which I feel is such a cop-out, but I just don't know how to begin to get into all of that with her.

But there we were, holding signs that said "We *heart* Planned Parenthood" and "Stand Up For Women's Health Care!"

On the other side were some interesting signs.... the aborted fetus pictures are always charming, and my favorite was a sign that read "Your mother is pro-life."

Ummm..... pretty sure she's not. Pretty sure I'm not. Pretty sure lots of mothers are in favor of reproductive rights, of a woman's right to choose. The notion that pro-choice women do not have babies just goes to show the absolute stupidity on that side. I want to be tolerant. I want to understand, and I do understand if someone tells me they are opposed to abortion. I understand and I say that is your CHOICE! It's your CHOICE to never have an abortion. It's your CHOICE to believe that a pregnancy that happens as the result of rape or incest is miracle - THAT'S YOUR CHOICE! And it's my CHOICE to not see the world in black and white. It's my CHOICE to believe that, while I can't say for sure if I would ever have an abortion or not, I sure as hell believe that if I were faced with that decision it would be just that - MY decision.

And, sadly, the other part of this that is so often lost in the abortion debate, is that Planned Parenthood has been providing preventative health care to under-privileged women for decades. Abortions are such a tiny part of the services provided there.

So my daughter and I marched and sang.... she had her first social activist experience at age 3.... one day I will explain to her how important this really is.

They joys and pains of social networking

Recently my significant other deleted his Facebook profile in its entirety and opened a new one, using what I think happens to be a pretty clever made-up name. His reasons were primarily focused on his issue with Facebook’s lack of security, and reports that private information could be gathered and used for marketing purposes.

Since opening my own account a few years ago, I’ve found it to be entertaining (reconnecting with long lost friends, classmates, relatives, etc.), informative (lots of useful information gets passed around), and personally helpful (when going through something like a medical problem or a divorce, it’s nice to have people who have been through similar situations providing support… it’s also nice to be that person to someone in return).

Recently, however, I’ve been giving this whole social networking thing a second thought, and this morning I went as far as to declare myself on a “self-imposed Facebook hiatus”. I need it… for sanity’s sake, I need it. Here’s why….

First, I’ve had an increased number of what I can only assume are spammers requesting to add me as a friend lately. This is an annoyance, mostly because it provides proof that my significant other was right…. and I, no doubt, was wrong on this one. Of course he was right. He’s a computer-geek.

Second, I have seen friends duke it out with one another via Facebook comments over truly ridiculous topics. I am guilty of having done this myself, so I’m not passing judgment here. It’s easy to get caught up, and especially easy to say things you wouldn’t dream of saying to someone in person. It’s also easy to mistake sarcasm for sincerity when reading someone’s typed comments, versus hearing them in person.

Thirdly, I sometimes feel like I’ve said too much, and that I know too much. Maybe it’s possible that not everyone needs to hear about my upcoming colonoscopy, and maybe I don’t need to hear about the fight you got in over the weekend at the local VFW. Seriously. TMI!

So I am taking a Facebook hiatus. Not sure when or if I will return… and if I do return, not sure if I will finally let my clever significant other choose an equally clever made-up name for me as a means of announcing my return to the land of social networking (well, Facebook anyway). We shall see….

Food for thought…..

As I sit here sipping my chicken broth, preparing for some endoscopy procedures tomorrow, I find that I am feeling a tad sorry for myself. You see, not until dinner tomorrow night will I be able to eat a real meal. That’s breakfast, lunch, dinner, breakfast, lunch….almost two full days without food. I will get hungry, irritable….my stomach will growl….I might feel a little lightheaded.

Then I think about my yoga and meditation training that I’ve gone so long without putting to any real use…… and I think about the man who was pulled out of the rubble of the earthquake in Haiti after eleven days…. ELEVEN DAYS….and when asked how he survived, he told reporters that he had found a can of soda and taken small sips of it throughout his ordeal. I think about the pregnant women and small children and all the many many people who often go days without eating any food, not in preparation for some medical procedure, but because they have no food.

I think of the gluttony that is this country, and I feel such a profound sense of shame. We eat ourselves sick, and then we complain when we have to fast for a day or two so that our doctors can figure out why we’re sick.

I know why I’m sick. I’m sick because I have taken very poor care of this body that was given to me…. a once strong and powerful body…. a fast body….. a body that could outrun most people on this planet, and that could bench press my college boyfriend. (Seriously!) What happened to that body?

What happened is gluttony in its finest form. I never learned a healthy respect for food. I’ve always either gorged myself on it, or starved myself from it. I’ve bought all the books and done all the diets. I’ve gone to Weight Watchers meetings. I’ve convinced myself time and time again that whatever way of eating I currently subscribed to was the only way. I’ve eaten too much junk food. I’ve drank too much wine.

I’m not healthy. I’m ashamed to say it. I’ve been a gluttonous American, and it’s starting to take its toll on my body.

Tomorrow I go in for my endoscopy procedures in hopes of figuring out what is medically wrong with me. But today…. today while my belly is empty and growling, and I sip my chicken broth…. my organic free-range chicken broth that I purchased in bulk at Costco (seriously)….. I will remind myself that it’s far more than many people on this planet will get today…. I will remind myself that all over the planet people will die of starvation today….. I will remember to breathe and appreciate my hunger pains, for they are proof that I am alive!

Today I vow to live well, to gain that healthy respect for food, and for humanity….one breath at a time….one sip at a time.

What is it?

Tuesday I go in for a repeat of both upper endoscopy and colonoscopy, in hopes of finally determining what is going on with my stomach (and my entire body, really). For the past few days I’ve eaten small amounts of gluten (I learned my lesson last time when I attempted to eat half of a wheat-crust pizza and was out of commission for four days!), and so far I’m doing okay…. not feeling awesome by any means, but functioning.

What I learned from my second opinion appointment last week…..

*I may or may not have Celiac Disease, but it’s more likely that I do not. Probably, the gluten thing is a food sensitivity issue, in which case, I very well might have more (dairy, eggs, soy, etc.), and so I will need to see an allergist at some point here to determine if that’s the case.

*I may actually have Crohn’s Disease. According to 1st opinion docs, Crohn’s was ruled out. According to 2nd opinion doc, Crohn’s can’t POSSIBLY be ruled out without a repeat colonoscopy. (*Krista almost starts crying at this point.*)

*I might also have any of the following: Diverticulosis, IBS, low motility….. all of which have a lot of overlapping symptoms, all of which can potentially respond favorably to a gluten-free diet.

*A *LOT* of people with Crohn’s have gluten-sensitivity that is not Celiac, so it’s possible that Crohn’s could mimic Celiac, but probably not vice versa.

*1st opinion docs did a shitty job on both procedures.

*Small intestinal bacterial overgrowth that keeps returning is usually a symptom of some other condition.

*This doctor knows his stuff.

….and that’s really what it boils down to. I am confident that this doctor will finally help me figure out what’s going on. I am confident that he knows what he’s talking about. I am confident that he actually reads my chart and listens to what I have to say, and that he takes it all into consideration.

Regardless of what answers I get, I am ready to know so that I can start figuring out what I need to do to feel well. This has been going on far too long, and I’m pretty sure everyone I know is sick of hearing about my stomach/intestines/poop/gluten issues. I know I am!

I wish that I knew what I know now……

A co-worker stood in my office this morning, bloodshot eyes and a bright red face. Her boyfriend had just ended their relationship (via Facebook, of all ways). She was angry, devastated, not sure what to do or think. As the tears fell down her face, I recalled my own similar moments, and I decided that what we need most at a time like this is twofold: we need someone to listen….to truly listen; and we need someone to tell it like it is.

I listened. She went on for quite a while, sharing tales of hurt and pain and unhappiness…. the history these two shared, and what damage it has caused her.

I spoke. I told her that I’d been there. I have. I told her that in the end it really doesn’t matter who did what or said what, or what the other person thinks you did or meant or whatever. What matters is that this life we have is so short, and if you have spent years making each other miserable, not trusting each other, hurting each other, being hurt by each other….why not take a step away from that and give yourself a real chance to get untangled? Why not just recognize that it doesn’t HAVE to be this way? Why not admit that you deserve more? And that maybe he does too? Why not walk away and resolve to make the changes needed to ensure the next time will be a good one?

I listened. He accused her of this. She thinks he did that. Etc., etc.

I spoke. I relayed a message that a friend of mine shared with me several months ago, one I honestly will never forget…..

When you’re with the right person, there is no insecurity, no jealousy, no worry. You are just you and he loves you exactly the way you are…. and vice versa.

Then I added my own part…..

“I’m sorry. I know this sucks so much right now, but it gets better. I promise you it does. One day you’ll look back on this time and be so glad for it.”

Here’s to healthy relationships, healthy changes, healthy you in 2010!