One week. It's been one week since we moved.
I will never forget the experience our family had while moving from residency to my husband's first "real" job. After staying two and a half weeks with my in-laws, (which was honestly like *heaven* - my mother-in-law cooked for me and even did my laundry a few times, kept my kids happy, fed them while I slept in... I know!), a huge going-away-party that a friend planned for our family, (lots of hugs and sad goodbyes), one week at the beach with my family while my husband finished his fellowship, (also deeply relaxing with long runs along the empty beach, my sister's baby to cuddle with, delicious meals made by my sister, more sleeping in while my sister fed my kids breakfast in the mornings... I know - I love her so much!), three days of driving 18-hours (my husband in his car with two kids and me in my van with two kids), four days at my husband's family reunion, (lots of little second cousins pulling my kids in different directions which allowed for fun adult conversations, lots of hugs, surrounded by people who love us and care about our family), and finally we arrived to our new home.
It was exhausting! We felt like sleeping for a month. But, within two days my husband's grandfather passed away (who lived just two miles from our new home). We spent time with him (my husband would not leave his side). We visited with family. We cried. And we tried to find time to unpack. We finally attended church after five days here and our kids were delighted to meet some friends.
One month. It took us one month to move 18 hours away.
I hope this is the city and home that we choose to live in - forever. I honestly never, ever want to move again.
I'll post some pictures eventually. But right now the house is pretty empty. And it will stay that way for a while. My husband's first pay check doesn't come until the end of September, and we are just barely out of residency and fellowship - the financially tightest five years of our lives.
But, but, we survived those five years. We are still married. And, we are still happy. Very, very happy.
Showing posts with label physician practice. Show all posts
Showing posts with label physician practice. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 29, 2014
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
interviewing for a job... finally...
Interviewing for a job - post-training - is not quite what I thought it would be like. Of course, I didn't join my husband on any of his previous interview trips - those for med school, residency, fellowship - so much of this is very new for me.
My husband applied to many places... but let me just mention here that, in particular, the places on his list seem to all have a few common themes: they have at some point made their way into his Bicycling magazines, their population is less than 100,000 people, and they provide a plethora of outdoor hobbies and adventures.
The first interview trip was very stressful for me, for many reasons: leaving my four children with multiple individuals to scramble through their hectic schedule; I actually had to go to a mall to look for an outfit that I could wear to the dinner with spouses (I do not enjoy the mall, to put it lightly); watching myself spending money (we did not have) on flights, hotels, rental car, food on the go, etc. - not to mention my outfit at the mall. I was also constantly transporting my husband from one location to the next and had to be close by when he needed the car. (In addition, during the trip I was finishing up writing three grants for my kids' elementary school, researching neighborhoods, crime statistics, schools, etc. because I had procrastinated just a bit.) I came back completed exhausted, grateful that it would be the one and only interview trip with my husband.
But, the next interview trip came along quickly. My husband promised me a beach house (ya right, but it was a sweet gesture) if I came along - because I told him I would only be joining him for one. This trip was nice, however (yes, I gave in and went). I took along a book. I already had my outfit (down to the earrings, shoes, hairstyle) planned out (it was the same as the first interview - exactly). I knew what to expect. I was ready for all of their questions. I was more relaxed. I knew exactly what I needed to do, and how to do it. It was all very nice. I even went trail running while my husband was interviewing (an important part of my "research" of the city).
We just got home late last night from the second interview trip. Things seem crazy now. Now that we have choices. We would have been happy with one choice, but now we are completely confused and unhappy with two choices staring at us. Interesting. Sometimes I feel so mixed up inside and start worrying (much more than I think is healthy) about making the wrong choice. Other times I stand back and think that it is not such a big deal - we've always loved where we have lived and found wonderful people around us - and we can always move again. Why does it feel like such a huge deal to actually accept a job, now that my husband is almost finished with his medical training?
An extra little tidbit of information that seems important to include: my husband will not start his job until late this coming summer - meaning that all of the interviewing, deliberation, praying, intense discussions, stress, does not mean that we are moving right now. It does mean that we need to be making the decision... but we are discovering that this is difficult with older children... especially since the anticipation for them is just as bad as the actual move. It seems to be making our 11-year old son crazy. He does not want to leave his friends. I think somehow my husband and I need to figure out a way to stop talking about where he will take a job and the fact that we will be moving. Completely stop. Until my husband's start date is a week away, then we will bring it up casually, quickly move and then be done.
The poor kids.
So maybe this decision is a huge deal, maybe we do need to make "the right choice", because I can't imagine doing this to the kids again... ever. We need to stay somewhere at least 14 years - that is when our youngest will turn 18-years old. 14 years. Anyone can survive anywhere for 14 years, right?
My husband applied to many places... but let me just mention here that, in particular, the places on his list seem to all have a few common themes: they have at some point made their way into his Bicycling magazines, their population is less than 100,000 people, and they provide a plethora of outdoor hobbies and adventures.
The first interview trip was very stressful for me, for many reasons: leaving my four children with multiple individuals to scramble through their hectic schedule; I actually had to go to a mall to look for an outfit that I could wear to the dinner with spouses (I do not enjoy the mall, to put it lightly); watching myself spending money (we did not have) on flights, hotels, rental car, food on the go, etc. - not to mention my outfit at the mall. I was also constantly transporting my husband from one location to the next and had to be close by when he needed the car. (In addition, during the trip I was finishing up writing three grants for my kids' elementary school, researching neighborhoods, crime statistics, schools, etc. because I had procrastinated just a bit.) I came back completed exhausted, grateful that it would be the one and only interview trip with my husband.
But, the next interview trip came along quickly. My husband promised me a beach house (ya right, but it was a sweet gesture) if I came along - because I told him I would only be joining him for one. This trip was nice, however (yes, I gave in and went). I took along a book. I already had my outfit (down to the earrings, shoes, hairstyle) planned out (it was the same as the first interview - exactly). I knew what to expect. I was ready for all of their questions. I was more relaxed. I knew exactly what I needed to do, and how to do it. It was all very nice. I even went trail running while my husband was interviewing (an important part of my "research" of the city).
We just got home late last night from the second interview trip. Things seem crazy now. Now that we have choices. We would have been happy with one choice, but now we are completely confused and unhappy with two choices staring at us. Interesting. Sometimes I feel so mixed up inside and start worrying (much more than I think is healthy) about making the wrong choice. Other times I stand back and think that it is not such a big deal - we've always loved where we have lived and found wonderful people around us - and we can always move again. Why does it feel like such a huge deal to actually accept a job, now that my husband is almost finished with his medical training?
An extra little tidbit of information that seems important to include: my husband will not start his job until late this coming summer - meaning that all of the interviewing, deliberation, praying, intense discussions, stress, does not mean that we are moving right now. It does mean that we need to be making the decision... but we are discovering that this is difficult with older children... especially since the anticipation for them is just as bad as the actual move. It seems to be making our 11-year old son crazy. He does not want to leave his friends. I think somehow my husband and I need to figure out a way to stop talking about where he will take a job and the fact that we will be moving. Completely stop. Until my husband's start date is a week away, then we will bring it up casually, quickly move and then be done.
The poor kids.
So maybe this decision is a huge deal, maybe we do need to make "the right choice", because I can't imagine doing this to the kids again... ever. We need to stay somewhere at least 14 years - that is when our youngest will turn 18-years old. 14 years. Anyone can survive anywhere for 14 years, right?
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Anesthesiologists and Narcotic Drug Addiction
All anesthesiology programs nationwide are required to hold a department meeting with the new anesthesiologist residents at the beginning of their training and discuss the issues of narcotic drug addiction. Anesthesiologists are more than four times more likely than other physicians to have a drug addiction.
My husband had his meeting last week.
The invitation to the meeting stated it would be the only time that it would be "required" for the resident to bring a spouse/partner/loved one/close friend with him/her.
We scrambled to find a sitter, in our new neighborhood.
I muscled my way through Seattle traffic without my kids and the advantage of the carpool lanes.
First, a movie presentation, covering facts about the drugs: methadone, propofol, fentanyl, and other drugs typically used by anesthesiologists. Even very low doses of the powerful drugs that the anesthesiologists administer in the operating room are extremely addictive. And then a detailed description of the death of an anesthesiology resident who overdosed on a drug while in his call room during one of his shifts.
It was horrible.
Then, a recovered drug, and alcohol, addict anesthesiologist and his wife both spoke about their experience with his addition.
It was scary.
The director of the anesthesiology program also spoke, along with the director of a physicians health program that directly deals with substance abuse, etc. conditions that affect practicing physicians.
They opened it up to questions. Only two people in the room of about 50 raised their hands with concerns. My husband was one of them. I don't think I'll worry about him - he is not the one thinking "Oh come on, this will never happen to me." Instead, he was asking questions about how to better prepare himself to avoid any possible experience with the drugs.
For the first time, I was actually grateful for his biking obsession and his disciplined dependence on 2-3 Diet Cokes per day. I can't imagine going through the stress that he is going through, without something! If it were me, I would be consuming huge amounts of chocolate every day, and I would weigh at least 40 lbs. more than I do now. His way seems healthier to me.
The recovering addict anesthesiologist spoke about how he never learned to deal with stress or problems, besides getting drunk. The addiction to the narcotics followed easily.
An important point missed in my opinion: a recommendation that the anesthesiologists (whether in their residencies or practicing) never try the drug in the first place, (I'm sure this requires an enormous amount of discipline). This meeting focused more on what to do if a resident becomes addicted to a drug.
I found an interesting article about the powerful narcotics being present in very small doses in the air during operating procedures. Researchers suspect that the repeated administration of the drugs during long shifts in the operating room may lead to drug sensitivity of the anesthesiologist.
Yikes, I have to follow up on that one.
At the meeting, the director of the physicians health program stated: without a doubt all of the residents in the room would have a colleague who would struggle with addiction during their practice, and that at least one of residents in the room would actually find themselves addicted to one of the drugs they would be administering.
Wow.
Interesting, and scary.
My husband had his meeting last week.
The invitation to the meeting stated it would be the only time that it would be "required" for the resident to bring a spouse/partner/loved one/close friend with him/her.
We scrambled to find a sitter, in our new neighborhood.
I muscled my way through Seattle traffic without my kids and the advantage of the carpool lanes.
First, a movie presentation, covering facts about the drugs: methadone, propofol, fentanyl, and other drugs typically used by anesthesiologists. Even very low doses of the powerful drugs that the anesthesiologists administer in the operating room are extremely addictive. And then a detailed description of the death of an anesthesiology resident who overdosed on a drug while in his call room during one of his shifts.
It was horrible.
Then, a recovered drug, and alcohol, addict anesthesiologist and his wife both spoke about their experience with his addition.
It was scary.
The director of the anesthesiology program also spoke, along with the director of a physicians health program that directly deals with substance abuse, etc. conditions that affect practicing physicians.
They opened it up to questions. Only two people in the room of about 50 raised their hands with concerns. My husband was one of them. I don't think I'll worry about him - he is not the one thinking "Oh come on, this will never happen to me." Instead, he was asking questions about how to better prepare himself to avoid any possible experience with the drugs.
For the first time, I was actually grateful for his biking obsession and his disciplined dependence on 2-3 Diet Cokes per day. I can't imagine going through the stress that he is going through, without something! If it were me, I would be consuming huge amounts of chocolate every day, and I would weigh at least 40 lbs. more than I do now. His way seems healthier to me.
The recovering addict anesthesiologist spoke about how he never learned to deal with stress or problems, besides getting drunk. The addiction to the narcotics followed easily.
An important point missed in my opinion: a recommendation that the anesthesiologists (whether in their residencies or practicing) never try the drug in the first place, (I'm sure this requires an enormous amount of discipline). This meeting focused more on what to do if a resident becomes addicted to a drug.
I found an interesting article about the powerful narcotics being present in very small doses in the air during operating procedures. Researchers suspect that the repeated administration of the drugs during long shifts in the operating room may lead to drug sensitivity of the anesthesiologist.
Yikes, I have to follow up on that one.
At the meeting, the director of the physicians health program stated: without a doubt all of the residents in the room would have a colleague who would struggle with addiction during their practice, and that at least one of residents in the room would actually find themselves addicted to one of the drugs they would be administering.
Wow.
Interesting, and scary.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Replacing Health Insurance
"All doctors go into medicine because they want to heal the sick and because they want chicken." - Stephen Colbert.
This made me laugh out loud in a few parts, though the ending gets a bit silly.
This made me laugh out loud in a few parts, though the ending gets a bit silly.
| The Colbert Report | Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c | |||
| Indecision 2010 Midterm Elections - Sue Lowden | ||||
| ||||
Married to a Doctor
During my husband's medical school years, I was active (some years more than others) in the medical school spouses' association. Through this association, I came to know many residents' and physicians' spouses, along with medical school students' spouses. Regardless of where we were in our husbands' training and/or careers, our friendships were forged immediately.
Sometimes a wife would say, "I met my husband while he was a resident and we were married after he finished, so I missed all of those hard years of medical school, internship, and residency... I cheated!" Each time I heard a doctor's wife say this, I totally agreed that she had "cheated" by missing the years of medical training. But, now that I have experienced residency, or life after medical school, I am beginning to disagree with that comment.
I now think that any time someone marries a physician, they instantly enter a somewhat unusual life experience. The most noticeable difference is the set of expectations that seems to come with being "a doctor's wife" or "a doctor's family." Another difference is the number of sacrifices that a physician and the family make to the demanding career of medicine. Also, somewhat less pronounced, is the challenge of a spouse and/or children to be able to understand, accept, and support the physician's demanding career.
I remember very clearly the first night that one of my husband's patients died. He came home the next morning with a very heavy heart. For the first time ever, I just listened to him talk, (usually I just have to give advice, but, fortunately, I had no idea what to say). He couldn't sleep. His sadness in dealing with this experience was difficult for me to witness and even more difficult for me to try to understand and offer the support he needed.
So, one of the less pronounced challenges of a physician spouse is learning how to support the doctor and his/her intense, meaningful, sad, stressful, frustrating, humbling, etc., experiences, which is unusual, no matter when one happens to marry the doctor.
Sometimes a wife would say, "I met my husband while he was a resident and we were married after he finished, so I missed all of those hard years of medical school, internship, and residency... I cheated!" Each time I heard a doctor's wife say this, I totally agreed that she had "cheated" by missing the years of medical training. But, now that I have experienced residency, or life after medical school, I am beginning to disagree with that comment.
I now think that any time someone marries a physician, they instantly enter a somewhat unusual life experience. The most noticeable difference is the set of expectations that seems to come with being "a doctor's wife" or "a doctor's family." Another difference is the number of sacrifices that a physician and the family make to the demanding career of medicine. Also, somewhat less pronounced, is the challenge of a spouse and/or children to be able to understand, accept, and support the physician's demanding career.
I remember very clearly the first night that one of my husband's patients died. He came home the next morning with a very heavy heart. For the first time ever, I just listened to him talk, (usually I just have to give advice, but, fortunately, I had no idea what to say). He couldn't sleep. His sadness in dealing with this experience was difficult for me to witness and even more difficult for me to try to understand and offer the support he needed.
So, one of the less pronounced challenges of a physician spouse is learning how to support the doctor and his/her intense, meaningful, sad, stressful, frustrating, humbling, etc., experiences, which is unusual, no matter when one happens to marry the doctor.
Monday, March 22, 2010
HEALTH CARE REFORM
The House approved the overhaul on the nation's health system yesterday (219-212).
It will be interesting to watch whether the overhaul: really will be a "historic advance in social justice" as Democrats said; if it will "improve the quality of life for millions of American families" like Rep. Matsui said; provide coverage to 32 million uninsured people; reduce federal budget deficits by $143 billion in the next 10 years; etc. etc. etc.
I do believe that health care is a right, and not a privilege. Education is a right in our country, but without good health, kids cannot even go to school to claim that right. (This is probably the public health part of me speaking.)
Patrick J. Kennedy said, "[Health care] is a moral issue." I do believe that we all have a responsibility to take care of each other, as much as we can. Only time will tell whether this bill will allow us to truly take care of each other, or if it will merely be politics, as usual.
It will be interesting to watch whether the overhaul: really will be a "historic advance in social justice" as Democrats said; if it will "improve the quality of life for millions of American families" like Rep. Matsui said; provide coverage to 32 million uninsured people; reduce federal budget deficits by $143 billion in the next 10 years; etc. etc. etc.
I do believe that health care is a right, and not a privilege. Education is a right in our country, but without good health, kids cannot even go to school to claim that right. (This is probably the public health part of me speaking.)
Patrick J. Kennedy said, "[Health care] is a moral issue." I do believe that we all have a responsibility to take care of each other, as much as we can. Only time will tell whether this bill will allow us to truly take care of each other, or if it will merely be politics, as usual.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
MEDICAL ERRORS
There is a great article in the NYTimes today about a physician that travels the country to advise hospitals on measures that can protect their patients (reduce infection rates, physician errors. etc.). 
The article reminded me of my husband's first year of medical school. In the Spring he returned from a two week medical school humanitarian trip to Peru and immediately began experiencing intense abdominal pain. After two days of discomfort and a misdiagnosis (a rare parasitic infection picked up from swimming in the Amazon River?) he was admitted to the university hospital with appendicitis. We experienced a few medical errors during those two weeks, and the most important ones were due to the hierarchy. We requested that my husband be discharged before we probably should have - just because we really, honestly thought that he might die if we didn't.
We both learned a lot from that experience. My husband gained the ability to empathize, rather than merely sympathize, with patients. He also learned the value of prioritizing his ability to effectively communicate with patients. I learned the importance of being an advocate for my husband as a patient and that questioning the attending physician's treatment of him was okay.
This article was great; I think I might buy this book for my husband. The author is an anesthesiologist.
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