The Doctor/Wife Conundrum

Being a doctor is quite the balancing act. There is, of course, the issue of time allocation: how much time you spend studying, at work, at church, with family, resting, etc... That part has always been fairly easy, because it's a matter of priorities and family has always been first, followed by church, and lastly work.

What is infinitely more difficult is finding an emotional equilibrium between being caring and compassionate towards the patient while maintaining a certain amount of distance and objectivity. If there is too little feeling, you come off as cold and callous. Too much, and you run the risk of burning out; plus, it's harder to remain objective. As a physician, often you have to order a test, administer a treatment, or provide information that is painful in the short term but in a person's best interests in the long term. Objectivity requires looking at the situation and putting personal feelings aside, which is obviously harder to do if you've invested a lot of emotion.

When I was in residency, people told me that it was harder to be objective when it was with members of your own family. Well, they were wrong. It's not "harder," it's frankly impossible. I found that out today when Mike came down with the flu. He's had a cough since Tuesday and Wednesday night a low-grade fever began brewing. Around 1 AM this morning, he woke up with chills, rigors, and a fever of 104. He was absolutely miserable. I knew it was bad when he moaned every time he moved, but he really scared me when he actually asked me if he could take an ibuprofen.

Happily, things quieted down with the ibuprofen. I was pretty sure he had a case of the flu, but during a sleepless night in between 3:30 and 6:30 thoughts like, "What if he's developing pneumonia?" and "Could this be the beginning of meningitis?" began working their way through my incoherent brain. By the time I left for work, I was filled to the brim with anxiety. My "what ifs" were entering the realm of the ridiculous. "What if he gets worse to the point he has to be hospitalized but he won't let anyone poke him with needles?" "What if he faints and hits his head and is knocked unconscious?" "What if someone breaks into the house and Mike's too delirious with fever to do anything and the robber kills him?" "What if the fever never goes away and it turns out that this is a new virus that changes Mike into a zombie?"

Alright, maybe I hung onto sanity enough that the last "what if" didn't enter my head. The doctor part of me was saying that I was being absurd but the wife part of me couldn't help it! By the time I arrived at work, the physician part had taken hold and I had managed to talk myself down somewhat. I was on my way to a morning meeting when I ran into one of my attending physicians, Dr. Davis. She looked at my tired, haggard appearance and remarked that I looked like I'd been up all night. I told her I thought Mike had the flu. Her response, which I am not making up, was "Oh, that's really bad. When my husband had the flu, he got up to go to the bathroom then fainted, hit his head on the sink, and had a seizure. You should go home and be with him."

Oh my gosh!!! That was one of my "what ifs!!!" Any amount of objectivity I had left was thrown out the door. There was no more conundrum. It was 100% wife, 100% worried. I rushed to call Mike. No answer. I waited 4 whole minutes before calling again. No answer. This time, I only waited 2 minutes. No answer. So I rushed back to my car and en route, Mike called back. He was alive!!!

I wasted no time in booking an appointment with an objective provider, who did x-rays, a strep test, and a physical examination. The end result of all that was a confirmation of my original pre-insanity diagnosis: flu. We waited 1 hour in the pharmacy to get Tamiflu. Before we left the office, Dr. Carney made Mike wear "The Mask of Shame" so that no one else would get sick.
Look at those puppy dog eyes. It made me so sad. I'm so grateful for an understanding work that let me discard the doctor hat for awhile and completely be a wife. Objectivity is overrated.

Heart Attack Mac 'n Cheese

Last weekend, we had Bonnie, Mike's sister, and her husband, Noel, over for Sunday dinner. Their two boys, Nicholas and William, had a blast with the balloons that Mike got me for Valentines.

Seriously, are they not two of the cutest boys you've ever seen? I tried a new recipe that night, Creamy Baked Macaroni and Cheese. Oh. Wow. Was it EVER good. It's so good I'm providing the recipe. Be forewarned, however. Each bite has, like, the calorie count and fat content of an entire McDonald's Cheeseburger. You should probably follow the meal with your favorite cholesterol-reducing regimen of choice.

Heart Attack Mac 'n Cheese
4 cups uncooked elbow macaroni
1 cup butter
1 cup flour
3 1/2 cups milk
2 cups (16 oz) sour cream
8 oz Velveeta 8 oz cream cheese
1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese
1 tsp salt
1 tsp pepper
2 cups (8 oz) shredded sharp cheddar cheese
3/4 cup bread crumbs

Cook macaroni according to package directions. (Note: We used trenne pasta instead, which is a triangle-shaped penne pasta and it worked really well.) Meanwhile, in a large saucepan, melt butter. Stir in flour until smooth. Gradually add milk and stir until all lumps have dissolved. Bring to a boil. Cook and stir for 2 minutes. Reduce heat. Stir in the sour cream, Velveeta, cream cheese, Parmesan cheese, salt, and pepper until cheeses have melted. Gradually add cheddar cheese and stir until cheese has melted and sauce is smooth. Drain macaroni and add to sauce and mix well. Transfer to a greased 9" x 13" baking dish. Bake uncovered at 350 degrees for 30-35 minutes or until bubbly. Remove from oven and sprinkle breadcrumbs over top. Return to oven for another 10 minutes until browned.

Mike canNOT keep a secret when he's excited about something. This is especially true when it comes to holidays. I, on the other hand, love the anticipation of waiting until the holiday. Mike's enthusiasm is infectious, however, so this year for Valentine's Day, I decided to do "The 14 Days of Valentines" for Mike.

Day 1: One-hour massage

Day 2: Two movie tickets

Day 3: Three bottles of Martinelli's

Day 4: Super Mario Bros. for Wii (a game for up to four players)

Day 5: Blazers tickets for the 5th of March

Day 6: Six e-cards

Day 7: Seven oz. of sour lips

Day 8: Eight slices of pizza

Day 9: Nine haiku poems I wrote (see examples below)

Day 10: $10 gift cards to iTunes

Day 11: Eleven kisses

Day 12: Mix CD of twelves songs

Day 13: A game of Pizza 31 (This took some creativity, but 31 backwards is 13.)

Day 14: Fourteen reasons why I love Mike + 14 (ish) oz of See's Chocolates!

I'll be honest. I thought that if I gave him daily Valentines, it would be easier for him to wait until the actual day to give me mine. Not so. On Friday, February 11, Mike sent me a text: "Can I give you your Valentine's Day present tomorrow instead of Monday?!?!?" My response: "Well, is it because it works better tomorrow or because it's too hard to maintain the surprise?"

Mike: ...both, maybe?!

Mike: No, BOTH!!!

Me: Hahahahahaha! I'll have to get back to you on that.

Mike: Ok, but please say "yes."

So we had most of Valentine's Day on Saturday, February 12, but it ended up extending through the weekend and culminating on Monday. Mike woke up early on Saturday and made me apple cinnamon oatmeal French toast, which is what he made for me last year on Valentine's day. When I came down for breakfast, there were 12 balloons (see picture) in the kitchen along with a new dress, a huge card, and a bouquet of flowers. On Sunday, we came home and he pampered me by pouring a bubble bath with some scents he got at Bath and Body works and giving me chocolates he'd hand picked from See's. It was so sweet and so romantic. Our fantastic weekend culminated with dinner at Palomino's Restaurant in Seattle and an evening at a comedy club. Mike also bought me a new coat (pictured above) and some earrings and a bracelet.

As a side note, the day also turned out to be great for people watching. There was a guy who freaked out and ran away from us when we opened up an umbrella in front of him. The person sitting in front of us at the comedy show clapped and laughed like Steve Martin in "Dirty Rotten Scoundrels" when he's pretending to be Ruprect the Monkey Boy. (Oklahoma! Oklahoma! Oklahoma!). The woman working at the Nordstrom's makeup counter had a blue and white bouffant hair"style." We saw a couple in their 50's get into their car and greet their dog by barking at it. Loudly. And howling. Loudly. For 2-3 minutes.

That's Seattle, the "Never Seen THAT Before" City.

And now for the haikus:

#1 Husband!

Go put that on your Facebook

And click to "like" it.

A Trailblazers fan.

Canby? Roy? Knee surgery!

Better luck next year.

Black Cherry Weinhard's.

Yay! Four chilling in the fridge!

I have so much more!!!

Our temple marriage:

Greater happiness than I

Could have imagined.

The Sneaky Peeky Lunchtime Thiefy

Earlier this week, Mike made me a delicious burrito with rice, refried beans, fried zucchini, and carmelized onions. Wow, was it ever good. I put it in a glass container and took it to work. It was a huge burrito, and I only ate half of it. The next day, wanting to prolong the enjoyment of this savory treat, I only ate a few bites with my salad and saved the remaining 3rd for the next day.

When I went to get the burrito out of the fridge, I noticed a glass container identical to mine sitting on the kitchen counter at work, cleaned and dried. “Cool," I thought. "Someone has the same dish.” But realization slowly dawned that it was MY container when I couldn’t find my burrito in the fridge.

I was so puzzled. Did someone think I didn’t want it? I had obviously wrapped it up and put it back in the glass container. There aren’t any self-appointed lunch monitors who routinely tidy out the fridge, so I don’t think anyone went on a cleaning binge and threw it away. Since I’d already eaten most of it and left my fork in the container, I couldn’t fathom that anyone would mistake it for theirs.

I was bemoaning the loss of the burrito and all its yumminess to another doctor and nurse who were there. The nurse said, “That’s weird, because last week I brought an entire pizza and left it in the fridge and when I went back at lunch, I found that someone had eaten all the pepperoni on top and left the rest of the pizza.”

Hmmmm…the plot thickens.

Then the doctor told how awhile back she had brought a sack with an apple, a container of Jell-o, and a segmented Tupperware container with rice, vegetables, salad, and dessert. When she went back, she noticed her apple and Jell-o were missing. She opened up the Tupperware container only to find that exactly half of each food item had been eaten and the other half left behind. She ended up throwing her entire lunch, Tupperware and all, in the trash.

So what we have here is a lunchtime thief with a freaky food fetish. We hypothesize that it’s all being done by the same person, because the eating pattern is so bizarre that we’d hate to think there’s more than one mealtime bandit partially eating others’ food. There's part of me who wants to go all sleuthy and figure this out by setting up a Nanny Cam, but the Army might have a problem with one of their soldiers drilling holes in the walls willy-nilly.

I guess I’m just glad that this individual very kindly washed and dried my dish and left it for me to find (I'm sure the "thank you" note was misplaced), but I’ll sure think twice before bringing food to work again.

Eat the Pig, Eat the Pig, Ziggy Ziggy Ziggy Zig!

The last weekend in January, Mike and I celebrated our first date (which was January 31, 2010) by having a date that lasted pretty much the entire weekend. It was fantastic! It started with dinner at Portland City Grill and a view of the Portland sunset from the 30th floor. It was such a fun and romantic atmosphere and the dinner was delicious. I had a yummy beet salad and an incredible crab-stuffed halibut. Mike had a filet mignon that looked so good I was almost (but not quite) tempted to try it.

After dinner, we went to see Brian Regan, who is one of the few clean comedians out there. It was the most beautiful theater I think I've ever been in. You can kind of see it in the background but the picture doesn't do it justice.

We stayed the night at Mom Clark's house and Saturday we had game night with the family. One of the things I absolutely love about Mike's family is that they just enjoy being together. They're very close and every time we go down, someone's arranging to get together and play games. It's great. Here's Scott with Daniel on his lap thinking about his next move. But it was all for naught, because I ended up winning. Mwa ha ha!!

Our date weekend continued on Sunday with our new family tradition: 5th Sunday sundae. The name basically says what it is. This tradition has its roots in the (in)famous Stacey Pig Pie. For the uninitiated, Pig Pie was started around 1986 when our family was living in Okinawa, Japan. What is it? It is The Ultimate Sundae. Crush Oreos, Nutter Butters, or any other combination of cookies or brownies in the bottom of a big bowl. The size of the bowl should directly correspond to the number of family members and the size of their stomachs. (Mike's stomach is nigh bottomless, which is why our bowl for only two people is so big.) Then scoop the ice cream. 2-3 different kinds is best. On top of the ice cream, sprinkle M&Ms, Reese's Pieces, pralines, or whatever other candy sounds good to you. You'll see we added bananas for a touch of nutrition. Top with caramel sauce, hot fudge, and/or whipped cream. I will never recommend a cherry on top. To finish up, everyone gets big spoons and digs in. Obviously, this is only done with people you're really, really comfortable with.

-------

Now, I don't know how Pig Pie was invented, but my most vivid memory of Family Home Evening growing up (sorry, Mom and Dad) involves Pig Pie. Our family had picked up some bad dietary and exercise habits as a whole, and an entire Family Home Evening was dedicated to learning about good health and nutrition. I don't remember much about that lesson except for Dad saying at the end, "OK, everyone, now let's forget about this lesson and go have some Pig Pie!"

---------

So for all of you parents out there struggling with weekly FHE and wondering if it makes a difference, YES IT DOES! Especially the treat part.

Which Army were you talking about?

I just got notification from the Army that I’m up for rank advancement. “Major Boards,” as they’re called, meet at the end of March to decide if I merit the rank of Major. If I do, that title will be bestowed in July…2012. Yes, that’s right, 18 months from now.

When I asked our Department Chief why they meet so early, his reply was, and I quote, “The Army likes to be on top of things.”

Oh ho ho, really?

You mean the Army that couldn’t get my pay right for 6 months after I got married?

You mean the Army that didn’t sign a leave request last year because someone looked through my file and realized I had never watched the circa 1984 training video “Depleted Uranium,” which should have happened at some point during residency? (I don’t even question why I have to watch videos like that anymore. I just do it.)

You mean the Army that keeps talking about budget cuts and then spent who knows how many dollars putting up new signs around the hospital without bothering first to check to see if the old ones were right?

Case in point, here’s my sign:


First of all, I don’t share an office with MAJ B. Berke anymore. I share an office with CPT B. Geneman. Second of all, I’m not a junior fellow, I’m a senior fellow. Thirdly, not only is my last name no longer Stacey, it was NEVER Stacy. In the three hallways I looked, consisting of approximately 30 rooms, there were no fewer than 11 signs that were wrong.

My coworker told me that before the signs were even up, he told the Powers that Be the old signs were wrong in many cases. He was informed by said Powers that they were going to put up the new signs exactly the way the old ones were, then go around to see whose were wrong and replace them.

???!?!!!?!?!!

Oh--and do you mean the Army that switched out all our pagers to a new text system then realized after it went online that the new carrier had a dead spot that was the entire hospital? You mean that Army?

Yeah, that Army.