brain teaser

whenever i'm told NOT to do something, i find myself inclined to not only continue doing it, but to do it more.  for example, my dentist told me a few checkups ago that she thinks i have a tendency to touch the back of my front teeth with the tip of my tongue, causing them to slightly jut out.  fearing the development of an overbite, i must have spent the next 6 months trying to avoid tapping the back of my teeth, but only found myself more conscious of doing it.  this sometimes prompted me to "accidentally" make the very gesture i was trying so hard to break.

i think that once a mindless action registers in the brain, the makeup changes, and suddenly, you can't stop thinking about it.

even now as i'm writing this, my dang tongue can't seem to leave my teeth alone.

hailed

the looming forecast of snow for friday reminds me of the intense, swift-moving hailstorm i drove into on my way home last week.  i was a few miles from our development when it suddenly went dark overhead, flashes of lightning illuminating the sky, turning it odd shades of pink, blue, and purple.  then the thunder came.  it clapped so loudly that my breath caught in my throat and i held it in anticipation.  rain started pouring down in fury, banging against my car like rocks until i realized they were actually hailstones.

what i recall about this moment was the feeling of pure and utter dread.  the slapping thunder and blinding lightning were practically in unison, causing me to feel the closeness of danger and the illogical fear of being struck.  it was then that i thought there are much bigger forces at work here, bigger than me, my car, the road, the sky.  the only thing that could make me feel an emotion somewhere between frightened and awe-struck is an inexplicable power from beyond.

true power is not manifested until it is recognized.

homework

staying home in bed on a weekday is not as glamorous as it sounds.  first of all, everyone you know is at work, and secondly, the only thing on daytime TV are soap operas and courtroom dramas.  i found myself flipping through the channels, hoping for something tolerable, something that required minimal brain power and could relax me at the same time.

that brings me to my next point about how hard it is for me to be home.  my mind never stops.  i'll spend most of my morning checking and responding to e-mails, and even when i tell myself to sign off, i'll usually be signing on later to catch up.  i'll mentally check off a list of things i need to do, and then panic at how i could possibly get it all done, now that i'll be "short" 8 hours in the office.  by the end of the day, in my quest to take it easy, sometimes i may end up more stressed than when it first started!

i read in a book once that it is difficult for americans to truly unwind, even while on vacation.  the brain is always running, churning with thoughts of deadlines and projects and meetings.  am i going to wake up one day and question how my life whizzed right by me, and all i have to show for it is a long and "rewarding" career?  there's much more to it than that, isn't there?

lesson of the day: when at home, be at home.

a patient patient

an emergency room is a strange community.  it is a place where people from all walks of life congregate, the young and the old, parents and children alike.  it does not discriminate across race or gender, only categorizes those who are sick and others who are sicker, grading the pain, as if you could measure a hip replacement that has popped out of its socket, a ruptured appendix, or broken bones.  and then there is me -- walking in on my own 2 legs, feeling remarkably healthy in comparison.

the wait through registration and triage and whatever step that is between triage and the next available room is not only frustrating and intensely boring, but a test of wills -- the will to be helped, to be told you're okay flush up against the will to run home immediately, to a dark room that doesn't smell antiseptic or synthetic, to a chair you can sink into rather than a stiff, industrial one bolted to the one next to it.

and then there is observation.  it's significantly quieter than the waiting room, the hustle and bustle now coming from the wheels of carts holding laptops and supplies, sneakers on the floors, insurance registrars and nurses and lab technicians and doctors rather than the cries and groans from potential patients on all sides.  here, you have your own bed (aka 'litter') surrounded by 3 walls and a curtain, and it almost, nearly feels like sitting in front of your TV set in the family room, except you're not, and the voices you hear are real.

somehow between the initial exam and various bouts of poking and prodding, it has now been almost 7 hours from the time you first stepped in line and the results you are awaiting, your stomach an empty hole (save for the bag of potato chips you shared with your husband after realizing it's either vending machine or gnawing hunger), the backless gown feeling big enough to drown in.  you begin to wonder which part of you will win this battle, still ready to bolt, watching your husband's tired eyes in the chair beside you, but grounded to this bed and room, sticking around to hear the news.  and you are wiped out too, wondering how or why we as people constantly take our bodies for granted, pushing through the minor aches and pains, lack of sleep, awful diets, and that big, loaded word -- STRESS -- until something alarming happens and we suddenly become fragile.  fragile and weary and scared, willing to wait, willing to go the distance just to hear 5 magical words: "you're going to be okay."

updated: ~1:30 a.m.

draw the line

tonight we had dinner with friends who i haven't seen in probably close to 3 years.  we used to all work at the same place and have kept in touch here and there but couldn't ever get our schedules together.  the conversations were easy and carefree and we had a nice time.

when i look back over the years, the people who are still in my life sometimes surprise me.  people who i always thought i'd be close to have faded away and some that i didn't expect would stick around, have.  those that i stopped speaking to also didn't make any effort to contact me, and that was just the natural progression and cessation of our relationships; no hard feelings or fall outs, only quite simply, the end.  as i've gone through changes in status (marriage), locations (moves), and jobs, my friendships have evolved too.

a girlfriend of mine recently was struggling with issues that all seemed to stem back to her choice of friends.  she told me that she felt used and abused in her relationships and wasn't sure why she even put up with it.  i told her the most efficient way to deal with her problem would be to draw a line, one half including her and the other not -- and then sit down and decide who she would want on her side and who she could bear living without.  i know it is easier said than done, but once she jumped over the initial hurdle, she would see the finish line.  take it from someone who's been there.

several years ago, i was stuck between a number of friends who treated me like dirt until one day, i decided to change it.  since then i've been picky with who i consort with and it has really given me peace of mind.  like i told my girlfriend, i am more content having a few amazing, wonderful friends than a ton of not-so-great ones.

and for the ones who i've chosen and who have also chosen me, who make the effort and reciprocate, our relationships will continue to develop and mature in value.

good fortune

today at the arcade, i played the 'wheel of fortune' game (of course) and lucked out on a good spin for 200 points and guessed 4 letters right.  even though i couldn't solve the puzzle, i won 800 tickets!  the machine kept spitting them out and the hubbie and i ended up with a small crowd of onlookers and both of our hands full.

i used to say that i never won anything until i met my husband.  he's my lucky charm.  technically, it's true, but i was always timid and apprehensive before, willing to sit on the sidelines while i'd watch someone else step up to the plate.  he has been my #1 fan, my coach, my cheerleader, and given me what i didn't know i could possess: courage.  confidence.  hope.

he's given me the belief that i have a chance.  without that, i wouldn't take the shot.  and you can't win if you're not in.

curveball

after a few conversations at work today, i noticed that the general theme of our chats is that life doesn't turn out as planned.  you can assume that spring has made it's official debut but then find yourself amidst a hailstorm.  you can expect that your parents will be around tomorrow, just as they are today, but that's not how it always works.  your educational and career aspirations can change, whether it's switching majors in college or sticking with it but landing in a different field or industry entirely.  we discussed our thoughts on being working moms vs. staying at home with the kids and how our views (and those of others) have morphed as the years go by.  we even agreed that it's nearly impossible to keep to a set schedule at the office because requests will come in, patients will call, surveyors will show up, and the list will continue to reinvent and append to itself.

how many times have i heard people say, "that's life," in response to adversity or hardship, or simply when things don't go the way they intended them to?  i used to think this was somewhat of a dopey expression until i realized it's just a way of stating the obvious, laying out the facts.  you could be walking along a path -- steady, peaceful, careful -- then turn the corner and smack face-first into a wall, a roadblock you hadn't seen or anticipated would be there. and then what can you say to justify it?

that's life. 

and we get up, recover, steer back on course, keep trekking along.

yes, life does not always turn out as planned.  but it doesn't mean we should stop planning.