No More New Years Resolutions

I gave up on New Year's Resolutions a long time ago.

The long list of exciting and usually unattainable goals I without fail give up on and worse, forget about within a few months just didn't seem worth the trouble and then the let down.

Last year well after the New Year, I came across the idea of choosing a word, or theme for the year. I found this was much more attainable and helpful for me as I lived my day to day. It is easier to remember and I can look back and see I have made some (small) progress.

My word for 2017 was RECLAIM. After years of school, residency, followed by a strenuous twin pregnancy and momming two babies, work drama, and the like, I was ready to take back my life. I had had so little control over who I was, my time, or my priorities that I wanted to regain that focus and control. No more people (or pagers!) dictating my every moment or giving me excuses for missing my goals.

I have to admit that after becoming pregnant my enthusiasm for reclaiming my life came to a drastic speed bump in exchange for afternoon naps and evenings on the couch, but I have seen some changes that I haven't recognized before with my previous list approach.

Some highlights for 2017:

• Reclaim my body and my health (throw in the pregnancy wrench here, at least on the reclaiming my body for myself): I ran my first 1/2 marathon. This was something I never thought I could do and I am proud of myself for showing I could make it happen, even in the sheer tiredness of first trimester pregnancy. Even though I feel completely derailed with this pregnancy, I know I have more confidence I can get back in shape.
• Reclaim my home: I gave away over 250 different groups of items in an attempt to declutter our home and instituted a very manageable cleaning schedule (when I am feeling motivated). Again, I have had setbacks with pregnancy, Christmas, and our expanding and growing family biding our time for six months in a house we have outgrown, but I can see some positive changes in the right direction. 
• Reclaim my time: I started doing a daily morning journal with daily goals and the idea to live my life with intent. I need to get back on the bandwagon (my perfectionist self sometimes self sabotages and I skip days if I don't think I'll be perfect...bad, bad, bad habit!) but I am getting better at not letting my days just happen to me. Along with this is finding quiet time for meditation and scripture time which has made a huge difference in my mental health.

Now I am working on my word for 2018. My feel for the year is similar to 2017. I want it to embody the essence of taking charge and being accountable without making excuses for myself. I'm leaning toward EMPOWER. I'm really not sure though. Maybe that is being too ambitious for the many changes to come for us this year... new baby, new house, new town/state, new jobs! Maybe it needs to be something like GRACE or FOCUS. But I really want 2018 to be a year where I take charge and face each day with productivity and positivity. 

Any ideas for words for me? What would your word be?

Yesterday Once More

May 22, 2017

Today was my blood test, the end of the infamous "two week wait."

Abe's mom came over early this morning and she helped me get Mister and Sister ready for a walk. We took our stroller to the hospital for a quick lab draw, met up with Daddy for a short time, and came home. On our walk Abe called with the results.

It was a familiar conversation.

Abe: "It came back negative."
Me: "Oh, okay.
(Abe: silence)
Me: "Well, not surprising I guess. Hmmm. (Awkward pause)"
Abe: "I guess I should go get ready for my next case."
Me: "Okay, I love you."

We have had this conversation 5 times now with only slight variations in the script. Maybe that is what made it easier to hear.

So how am I feeling now? I didn't have much emotion at first. I left the twins with my MIL to feed them breakfast while I took some quiet time to process. The tears didn't come until I told a few family members the news. I am so used to disappointment in this way that I feel pretty okay with not being pregnant right now. But the finality of it is something to mourn and for which I shed a few tears. I had kind of expected before the news at the transfer (that the embryo hadn't done well in the thaw) that this would work, that this cycle would work now that my body "knew what it was doing," and that we had a third baby ready to come join our family -- the baby we lost in the womb coming for another chance at a healthy body.

Taken by my MIL as I cried in my room

However, I also feel like God has been reminding me the past few weeks how lucky I am. I have two miracle babies who are wonderful and sweet and make me smile every day. I love how they sing "Twinkle Twinkle" wih a variety of lyrics, from singing about stars, ABC's, BAA BAA BAA's, EI-EI-O's, or even Ma MA MA's, and give each others sweet hugs and kisses. I think He has been telling me, "You have enough. You don't have to keep doing this anymore. You are already so lucky."

So I choose to have faith in disappointment. I would love to have another baby. Just one. (I don't need to get greedy!) Crazy as I feel saying it even to myself, I would love to experience pregnancy again (I guess with the hope it would be easier this time!). I am disappointed I will probably never get that amazing birth experience, meeting and holding my baby in the delivery room without the many negative emotions I experienced last time. I was hoping to successfully nurse without all of the frustrations of before. I am sad thinking I wont get another chance to savor the smell of my new baby or the amazing feeling of cuddling him as he sleeps.

I'm not sure where we go from here. There is a common mentality that I will probably just get pregnant on my own. I'm not counting on that (although I do personally know other IVF mamas where that has been the case). In many ways, it feels easier to decide that I am done. To cut my losses and exit the roller coast of emotions permanently. Or at least for now. If I decide I want to ride that wild ride again, I can always purchase another ticket. Right now I am already dizzy and nauseated and will probably feel like I am still spinning at home in bed for awhile.

Either way, I'm not sure I am ready to throw out all of my baby stuff just yet. Whether that is me holding out a glimmer of hope or for sentimentality's sake, I'm not sure.

Our Hail Mary

May 11, 2017

Our embryo transfer was today. 

At 9:45 am I was picking up Abe from work and I received a call from my doctor. He told me our embryo had split after the thaw and that it "wasn't looking too great." He wanted to give me a "heads up." In the meantime, we would see how it looked in a few hours.

My appointment was at 11:15. My favorite doctor and his fellow (the same one who got me pregnant before -- a good sign?) came in before I changed for the procedure. He sat on the bed (a bad sign, I thought -- a technique taught to doctors to build rapport or to be more personable when giving bad news). They showed us pictures and explained that sometimes embryos don't do well after thawing (we had been lucky up to this point to have all of them survive the thaw). We now had two embryos after the one split. I was hoping he would say they looked good and now we had the chance for twins, which I would gladly do again. (Also has me wondering if we could implant them at separate times and have identical twins with different ages. Weird! -- I don't know that they could re-freeze it.) However, they felt that one looked like it was degenerating and the other looked questionable. It didn't seem to be growing like they expected it would.

#1 shows the split embryos

#2 shows the questionable transferred embryo

#3 shows the non-transferred, non-viable embryo

They offered us to "cut our losses" and we could go home, or we could proceed with the transfer knowing it had a low chance of working.

We decided to try. The biggest negative was continuing with the shots. I reminded them I was an old pro and they laughed in a knowing and apologetic way. Abe said, "Well, we will give God something to work with!"

They gave us 5% odds.

I started to process the idea of a failure for the first time. When we got back in the procedure room I felt infertile. Again. I had forgotten those feelings for about 2 years. I felt bad I couldn't give Abe his big family. I felt sad that I felt like we "didn't even have a chance" this time. I felt broken. And I remembered the many times in this room full of excitement and the disappointments that followed so many times over.

I also felt more modest this time. Out of practice I guess. The procedure took less than a minute -- much easier to get the catheter that delivers the embryo in place than ever before. My uterus must have changed because they always commented before on the difficulty. My bladder wasn't as full as the other times so the five minute wait after the transfer wasn't unbearable as before.

After we quietly walked back to my room in my socks to change, we kept our tradition of going to an Indian Buffet for lunch. (I mention the socks because somehow that feels important. There is a vulnerability of being in a public building without shoes, but also a coziness and warmth of only wearing socks. Is that weird?)

I had the romantic notion of not telling anyone until I was pregnant and starting to show. After the procedure, we decided it was such a long shot we could use the prayers so we decided to tell our families. I think everyone is trying to be optimistic/hopeful/supportive so we got a lot of "exciting"-s and "congrats"-s. In the moment I felt this should be more like condolences since this was my last (perceived?) chance of growing our family but I understand their thought process.

As I have spent more time in the day I have thought of that little baby I assumed we would get. As hard as it was, I want to experience pregnancy one more time. I want to savor one more little baby and all of the precious moments that went so fast before. I want to have a normal delivery and feel the magic of meeting my baby without the fear and separation anxiety of the NICU. I want one more round, less rushed and frantic than two often was (although I understand maybe a mom of three never get that!).


But...

I felt at peace. I felt like an answer to prayer to see and experience the immense joy and wonderful personalities I already have at home, today more than other days. Their laughs and smiles at simple silly things like the name of dinner and their sweet and purposeful kisses today as if they knew I really needed them were like messages from God.




They are miraculous. And enough. If I don't get another baby we still have a perfect family.

Abe and I are putting it in God's hands, one more time.

T-1 to Transfer Day

May 10, 2017

Do I really want to do THIS again???
I was HUGE and that was HARD.

We were at Costco last night and I picked up a bottle of pre-natal vitamins. The checker asked if we were having another baby. I wondered how he was on to me and didn't know how to respond (he was a stranger so I could probably be honest, but then again, what???) I realized I must look pregnant (something I have commonly been told/asked in the past), especially with my recent weight gain. Then I realized it was just the pills. Ha!

* * *

Tomorrow is the big day, my round #6 of IVF, FET (frozen embryo transfer) #5.

I still don't know what time I need to be there...I better double check this afternoon.

Honestly, I haven't thought about it much. I've been doing my progesterone shots since May 6. I dread them every night although they honestly haven't been bad and easier than before. (Tip: the cold of an alcohol swab on the adjacent skin is a nice distraction.) But besides my TID (three times per day) estradiol pills and the nightly shots I kinda forgot about it. Abe even mentioned something about "Thursday" and I literally said, "Oh yeah, Thursday!"

Am I blocking it from my mind in some subconscious defense mechanism? Am I such an "old pro" at this IVF thing it just doesn't phase me any more? Or maybe life as a working mother of twins is enough to keep my mind busy I haven't had time to ruminate on it all?

I don't know the answer but it is strange to think tomorrow I may be pregnant. And if I find out in a few weeks that I am not, then I am probably never going to be pregnant again. I don't know how I will respond when I actually process that.

So prayers that things go as they should tomorrow, whether that means God has another baby for us or not. And prayers I will be able to gracefully accept whatever that answer is, because right now either answer is a little scary.

Needle Phobic People Beware

Injection target area for PIO 

April 23, 2017

After that initial day of feeling off, I seem to be doing fine. Phew! It seems like it is a really long build-up this time. I don't remember being on the estradiol this long before starting the injections. It must have been the same protocol before but it sure feels like a long time until May 1 when I increase the frequency of the estradiol and a LONG time before I start the progesterone shots on May 5 or 6. Luckily, I'm not super anxious about that!








May 6, 2017

More needles!

I started my PIO (progesterone in oil) injections tonight. Back at it! The huge bag of needles
brought back the realization of how long I will be doing this again if it works (10 weeks!). I tried calculating out in my head how much of my life I have spent injecting a thick oil filled with hormones into a target on my butt (sorry, hip) and it comes out to about 5 months.

I feel less dread and emotion than I expected and it really wasn't painful like I remembered. But it did have that familiar strange and tight soreness that only injecting a mL of hormone impregnated oil can bring.

The medication is so thick it can be difficult to draw up.

The target areas are so different every time depending on which nurse you have.
I think these were the best so far... much less painful than any other cycle.

I can inject myself but I prefer the emotional support of having Abe do it for me.

I am on the estradiol pill TID (three times per day) now. You really should take all of the medications at the same time per day with a window of a few hours.  It can be hard to remember so I have to set my alarm, especially for my afternoon dose on days that I work. During the times I am in treatment it isn't uncommon for me to wake up night in a panic "realizing" I have forgotten to take a medication (usually for the entire cycle) and I must have lost the baby. Luckily, I haven't missed any doses yet in my conscious state.

I had my ultrasound appointment a couple of days ago. This is to observe the uterine lining and its response to the medications. It needs to be a certain thickness before proceeding with the actual transfer. They also checked my ovaries to make sure I haven't been shooting eggs out on my own (which could mean an unexpected multiple pregnancy if they transfer an embryo as well).

Fat chance of that, as who knows if I EVER ovulate. 

Things were looking good (my lining was thick and my ovaries were "quiet" as they say), so we are good to go ahead next week. I also met with the nurse who reminded me of the instructions (funny how it seems so fuzzy now).

I also turned in my "thaw consent." This has to be signed in the clinic with one of the staff acting as a witness, or it has to be previously notorized. I guess they have to take this eriously -- no creating offspring behind someone's back! This time was easy, "Thaw one embryo." No further instructions or decisions to make on that.

As for the hormones, I find myself very tired and unmotivated. And I am up about 5 lb --suspiciously similar to the amount of weight I gained last time! I look pretty bloated.  Maybe like I am pregnant already...?

Strangely, most of my IVF friends are pregnant now and another friend is doing her last few attempts at IUI (intrauterine insemination). Most of them conceived well before me in our journeys, so I am hoping we can all be pregnant together this time.


*I made some videos of the injections if anyone would like to see them. I have had some friends who feel pretty intimidated with how to draw up the medications, etc, so please contact me if you need help. I guess if you have a morbid curiosity, that works too.

Mum is the word

April 17, 2017

I already said this time feels different.

This time I am keeping quiet about it. This time I want it to feel like a "normal" pregnancy where I get to start showing and have people wonder if I am pregnant or just putting on the pounds. That I can simmer on my emotions by myself for awhile. That it can be my happy surprise to share or my disappointment to decide what to do with.

But I find myself a little nervous about not sharing. Last time I feel the prayers of many were on my side and I believe in the power of that. I feel like this last little embryo has to fight against the world for his spot in humanity and I have some worry without the legions of prayers he won't have as much of a chance. But I also trust that faith and prayers are strong and that God has a will. So the prayers of a longing mother and father I think have power as well and hopefully that will be enough.

I do find myself almost accidentally spilling the beans already, after just a few days, about to make comments about how I have an appointment or need to go take my medication, etc. We will see how far I can go. The transfer is scheduled for May 11. I may not have to keep this secret longer than that if we get negative results.

I am choosing to be optimistic that that won't be the case. However, it is a tricky thing to be hopeful and excited enough to have the courage to go forward with something as significant and life changing as a child. Plus, facing all of the unpleasant interventions to make it happen while trying to tell yourself to "not get your hopes up" or be "too disappointed" if it isn't in the cards, --or as I prefer to think, "God's will."

"God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change"

The Final Round

Here's a peak into my journals for those of you wondering what I have been up to.


April 17, 2017

On a whim I decided maybe it was time to try for embryo baby #3 -- or actually, technically, #6. 

Who does that? 

Makes a major life decision like the possibility of having three babies two years and under -- without days, weeks, or months of thought and preparation?

Add to it the part about having to be pregnant. (Man that was hard!)

Why didn't anyone tell my I was this big?!

Oh yeah, and then there is the whole IVF part: 

The shots. 

The pills. 

The frequent appointments. 

And most of all, the chance for major and in this case FINAL disappointment --because if this works it will in all likelihood be my last pregnancy and my last baby; and if it doesn't work, well...yeah. It WOULD have in all likelihood been my last pregnancy. 

I guess that is why I didn't want to think about it much and to take the plunge thoughtlessly. (And now my mind is making IVF needle puns about syringes with plungers...)

So without much mental energy or emotion really, I called the IVF clinic last week to matter-of-factly find out what the protocol would be for a FET (Frozen Embryo Transfer). I figured it would be a bunch of appointments and weeks or months before they would be ready. Nope. We could get started right away and why not in just a few weeks? "Start by going off your birth control pill today."

Before I knew it, I was getting my first of many upcoming needle sticks with a blood draw for my thyroid levels. 

Nurse: "We need to get your blood drawn? When can you come?" 

Me: "How about now I guess?"

Things are already different this round as my TSH (thyroid stimulating hormone) was normal this time, which means one less hormone to add into the mix than I had last round. And so far, no news of starting any metformin, a medication usually taken to regulate diabetes. 

And then last night I started 2 mg of Estradiol (an estrogen hormone to help support the uterine lining for pregnancy) and again this morning. I was careful to set my alarm for morning and night so I wouldn't forget any of these important doses.

And then I came into my room and plopped onto the bed as it started to hit me what I had just done. Abe hugged me and we prayed, as I realized the seriousness of this newfound plan. Round 6. I have done this so. many. times before. I should be an old pro. This should be old hat. I can't help but wonder if that will make it easier? Or if it will make it harder? 

I felt the dread after swallowing the small blue pills. I wish I could remember with accuracy what these hormones were about to do to my body. To my mood. To my weight. I am amazed by what I can't remember after spending almost a year constantly putting myself through this regimen before Mister and Sister's arrival. And also what I remember is slowly flooding back -- the pain and the disappointment and the dread and most of all the waiting. 

Amazingly I didn't cry. But I questioned if I was strong enough and brave enough to do this all again. 

This time feels different. This time there is an endpoint in the near future. Before, I had the hope of six embryos securely in the freezer and a large family coming from them. Now I know how hard it was to get the two blessings I have. I know that the odds are more likely than not that I will not get pregnant -- it took 5 embryos to get where I am now, why will one lone survivor suddenly stick this time? It doesn't seem like the way to start the "trying" process -- without much hope.

Mister and Sister's first baby picture

So we will see what happens. Despite it all, I have hope there is a little brother or sister there waiting to join us. I also have the joy of knowing we already have an amazing family. 

There is some relief in the finality even though it is also scary. Some of the worst parts of the whole process before was wondering and having to ask God, "How much do I have to do this before I give up? Before I know it won't work?" This time I know we have one more shot. (Again with the puns, actually 2-12 weeks of shots... but one chance at a pregnancy.)

I am anxious to finally know if I can give away my baby gear. I am also terrified to think I may have to. 

So here's to my Hail Mary. Crossing my fingers it will work. And if it doesn't, that I will be okay with God's answer. 

Why I am thanking Mr. Trump for his locker room chat

I was looking for the "feminist" photo to match:
perhaps the power suit? But then again, the mom in  pajamas
reading to/teaching her kids is a pretty close second!

I've long considered myself a feminist.

Equality and opportunity for women became a passion of mine since facing the challenges of entering a male dominated field, experiencing my share of discriminatory treatment, and more recently, becoming a mother. Unfortunately, I have found the connotations of the "feminist" label I proudly wear tend to bring a surprising amount of negativity, assumption, and sometimes ill judgement.

Thus, I am glad to see so many come out across the country to march for women this weekend! I take the appalling commentary on women from our now president as a twisted blessing. Today, we address behavior (that is seen and felt by women every day) publicly and head-on -- instead of silently and privately as women are told "stuff like that doesn't happen anymore" or "you are being too emotional" or "too sensitive."

I hope that after marching this week, we will remember to continue to support the women around us. Especially as women, supporting other women. We have so many issues to confront! Unequal pay, sexual harassment, birth control, sexual assault, the glass ceiling, maternity and childcare decisions, to name only a few. Unfortunately, I have found we as women are often our worst enemies. 

Because we haven't seen sexism, we won't believe it. 
Or because we accept it ourselves, we ridicule those who won't.
Because we didn't choose it, we will judge it. 
We often choose to harshly judge life choices that don't mirror our own instead of compassionately looking at the variables that brought those choices forward or to find a way to help. Instead of criticism, maybe we should ask, "What can I do?" 

Or we accept the objectification and sexualization of ourselves and our daughters. It is so prevalent we may not even notice. 
Or worse, we label it "female empowerment.

"Feminism isn't just bra burning; it shouldn't be man-hating; and doesn't have to be about abortion rights. I think it should be advocating for women. It should be respecting women and their choices. It should be refusing to expect or tolerate disrespectful treatment even when it may be as common place as over-sexualized marketing or even "locker room chat."

So thank you to Mr. Trump for your abhorrent behavior, because for once, I have found many women and especially men fired up about issues I have long cared about. But for many of us, this isn't new or unusual or even surprising talk or behavior.

And thank you marchers for your visible efforts. I hope we can all continue to march on because we still have a lot of work to do.

Bored, Bored, Boards

Some of the books I've been using to study feel off the top of this big stack. 

I started studying for the first phase of my board exam (for Oral Maxillofacial Board Certification) this fall. It feels like that's all I've been doing (even if this post will demonstrate that isn't quite true). I have been wanting to blog for weeks but have felt guilty taking the time rather than studying (silly?). Today it is my day off, the high temperature is -8, and I think I need a bit of me time to blog before hitting the books again. I'm getting pretty burnt-out, with only about a week to go before the massive brain dump of the 7 hour test is upon me!

Life has been crazy since my last post. From mid-October until mid-December Abe was away on a rotation in Mason City, IA, a small town almost 3 hours away from home. He only had a few weekends off when he was able to come home. So, most weekends I would make the 4-5 hour drive from Burlington after work to meet him for the weekend. Not very fun after 10 hours of driving during my commute each week.

Nine weeks is a long time to be separated and I am so glad he is home now! But, his absence did mean I was able to get a lot more studying done.

Visiting the crash site of Buddy Holly while in Mason City

Christmas parade and fireworks in Clear Lake, IA close to Mason City

Part of my board preparation included a trip to Denver in November for a preparation course. The course was quite intensive, the weather unseasonably cold, and the trip definitely business (sometimes classes would last from 8 am -8:30 pm). The best part was seeing old friends from college, the Marsh family and having an alumni BYU Women in Dentistry Club 2005 meeting by going to lunch with Tara Bruggeman and Laura Milroy, the only two women in the club with me at that time. It was so cool to meet up with them and see how far we have all come and to share our common experiences as LDS women dentists. If you live in the Denver area look them up because they are amazing and committed dentists.

We have continued to have some disappointments in the fertility department. During this time we completed two more embryo transfers. This includes daily painful shots in the hips and multiple medications by mouth. Abe was gone for part of this time which made the shots difficult. Luckily I know some helpful nurses. After three rounds of failure, the doctors seem puzzled by our lack of success. Each disappointment has been harder to swallow than the past. I am trying to stay positive and hope we will have success on further attempts, even though even the doctors agree it should have worked by now. It is hard to not ask "How many times do I have to do this, only to find out it wont work?" But I do feel lucky in many ways (we still have embryos left!) and as time goes by I find more and more positivity to go forward.

Medications and supplies from my last round

We were both able to take a few days off around Christmas and the New Year this year. What a blessing after years of holidays stuck working in the hospital. We joined Abe's family in Chicago right before Christmas with his family and spent the New Year celebrating on our own with a staycation in downton Iowa City.

Beignets at Grand Luxe Cafe Chicago-- I was feeling a bit like the Grinch on my shirt after nasty Chicago traffic

In a lot of ways, it has been a difficult past few months. This is ironically supported by the fact that as I was planning this post I found out my grandmother passed away yesterday after a long battle with Alzheimers. 

To be honest, it feels a bit like the bad/sad news keeps coming lately. I also recognize many blessings in my life despite or maybe in relation to the challenges. 

I am looking forward to the New Year with some (tempered) optimism.  I'm hoping for some better news including a passing board score, a successful pregnancy, and some continued improvements in my other goals this year. 

Iowa Domestic Tourism

There is a long list of things I should be doing right now: studying for mock boards tomorrow (for which I will be surely mocked--okay probably not overtly but over my own feelings of academic inadequacy), practicing my golf swing for our golf outing in the afternoon (our "reward" for suffering through the mocking--too bad it is more like punishment for me, a total non-golfer with no idea what I am doing), cleaning my house for the visitors who will be here in a few weeks for my completion of residency, working on work check out stuff like surgical logs and research presentations, and maybe just getting ready for bed.

So why the compulsion to blog? Especially when I don't know what to say? Maybe it is my desire to connect to the world when my husband is at work (again), leaving my chatty extrovert self on her own with only the blogosphere to listen? Or maybe it is my way of putting off what I really should be doing.

I would like to finish documenting my Japan trip but I frankly don't have the time for that currently--hopefully in a few weeks. I am interested to share about how I was able to refinance my student loans for about half the interest rate (Yay! Yay! Yay!), but again, don't feel quite up to the task today. Unfortunately there are crazy or emotional or exciting or scary things in my life I am not able to share (either due to patient confidentiality or my own confidentiality, etc). And I am sure there are some deep topics rumbling around in my brain ready to come out. Something about the challenges of being a woman surgeon or what it is like to be a twin or some of my life goals.

Or maybe we can talk about my plans after June 20, which by the way, is the LAST day of my life as a resident.

I was hoping to go on vacation but that doesn't look like it will work out. So, I am planning a stay cation which mainly I hope will include some major rehaul of the house! Yes, the house I moved in to a few weeks before residency and has only known the love and care of at least one (and usually two) residents. One piled high with medical journal articles, fake dental teeth, and any and all kind of clutter you can imagine would accumulate after four years of living a crazy life.

It may not be Disney...but maybe staying home could be fun!

I am hoping I will have the stamina, time, and desire to actually do a full rehaul. I'm not very good at the organizing thing. Or at the giving things away thing. Or the decorating or having ideas thing. So that is certainly a road block, or rather a mental block. But I'm committed.

Beautiful Iowa!

Some big goals include:
1. Getting rid of clutter once and for all (yeah right!). Wouldn't it be great to have a fresh start?
2. Decorating the beautiful basement we finished and never furnished or decorated. Ideas? Anyone up for a Chicago Ikea run?
3. A few maintenance things like painting the front porch and arranging to have our hazardous 1930s stone steps replaced outside.
4. Clean out and make our second bedroom functional as a guest room.
5. Clean and organize the garage and get the yard in shape.  I was hoping I would be up to this task but I'm not sure I can do it. After all, it is a vacation!
6. Maybe some fresh paint or updates in general in the house.


I am hoping to trick myself into thinking all of this work will be fun! Liberating! Stuff I've been wanting to do but couldn't get done as a resident but now can as a real adult with a job and a domestic plan!

I am also hoping for some fun time. One fun thing per day, maybe... I wish I had more time to structure out my staycation to make it really productive and also fun. Maybe a massage one day, a few matinees, a little shopping, and hopefully a trip or two to Chicago (remember Ikea?). After that I'm not feeling too creative.

Anyone have any good ideas for "vacation" when I am stuck at home? Also I am accepting volunteers, slaves, friends, professionals who are willing and interested to help a domestic novice achieve a higher level of domestic bliss and feng shui. Because really, all the motivation in the world may not overcome a blank slate of ideas or know how.

Snake Oil and Social Media

Yesterday on Facebook a friend posted an article about dentistry which basically equated a common dental procedure with cancer ("97% of cancer patients have had this procedure done"), and many other ailments, not to mention possible death. The article claimed to have information "your dentist wont tell you" or "your dentist doesn't know." Despite the fact that the article tried to lead you to use one of their own resources (a website which preys on your old fear of dentists in a whole new way to make money, no doubt) there were multiple responses to this article jumping to the conclusion that this information must be right and yes, dentist are all money grubbers trying to dupe their patients into harmful care for MONEY.

I found the article so inflammatory at first I wanted to share the link. But in doing so, unfortunately, it may lend a larger audience to patients/friends/family/unsuspecting citizens who buy into the sensational dogma of this author-less source (I couldn't seem to figure out who wrote the article! Red flag?). If you really must see it (my dental colleagues I am sure would get a good range of emotions from laughter, disbelief, and frustration out of it), let me know and I can send you the link.

With the connectedness of social media and the internet, anyone with an opinion can find a platform to share their voice on any subject. This can be great! Here I am, partaking in this phenomenon. But when it is used to spread fear, unsubstantiated claims, and quack science, I find it rather unsettling. There seems already to be a large distrust of doctors (I'm including dentists in here, or maybe especially dentists in here) and I find it very sad the number of people who are willing to discount the recommendations of their (hopefully) caring doctor with science and medical societies and years of educational training on their side, for sometimes the advice of harmful vendors selling snake oil and false hopes. I am not meaning to say that there aren't alternative remedies or solutions in health care, and yes, we as health care providers often gloss over these and don't give them the merit they perhaps deserve. But for some reason patients seem much more apt to spend money (and lots of it!) chasing the cure-all remedy that cures not only the common cold but also cancer and acne and uses "science" to prove it while dismissing research and common medical practice from real physicians, researchers, and respected journals as some kind of conspiracy.

I think we all as medical/dental providers have experienced interactions with patients where they chose to disregard sound medical advice due to misinformation. There is nothing more heartbreaking than seeing these patients choose to put their health at jeopardy based on faulty information often riddled with fear and sales tactics.

I know I am opening myself up to be misunderstood. I agree there are a lot of things we as health care providers don't understand. There are a lot of remedies we don't understand (accupuncture is one I'm interested in trying myself). But before you decide your metal fillings are causing your ailments or that you should stop taking your blood pressure medicine, please consult your doctor. It can be confusing as opinions vary widely among doctors as well. And I'm not naive enough to believe that all doctors really are compassionate and honest. But I hope you can find a provider you can trust to help you make decisions that are best for you. Or at least trust them enough to include them in the conversation. Ask questions. Get a second opinion. And then decide.

If you decide the alternative is right for you, at least you have the information you need to make an educated decision. Not just one based off fear or misinformation.

And maybe, just maybe, consider the peddler of the remedy may have your best interest at heart less than your doc.

Bachelorette Recap: Where's My Happy Ending?

ABC promotional image - "The Bachelorette" Season 9

I've seen one too many chick flicks.

I realized this while watching the Bachelorette Finale this week (I know, it's a horrible show and I still don't quite like acknowledging I watch!). While I actually found the finale somewhat boring and unsatisfying, I did find one aspect of the ending interesting...

I WAS expecting Brooks to come back.

If you aren't a Bachelor fan, he was one of the top 3 contenders and evidently the front runner to "win" the chance to propose to the Bachelorette Desiree. Last week he stirred up all kinds of controversy, "with the most dramatic bachelorette season in history," when he chose to go home early. Like most realistic people, he felt he probably shouldn't propose to the Bachelorette after only a few weeks of dating (while being filmed and on exotic dates across the world) a girl who has multiple boyfriends (with whom she spent overnight dates with two other guys just days before) and still hasn't been able to express her real feelings. I admired him for being honest and leaving before milking the show for additional fame, exposure, free vacation time, or even physical affection or to avoid fear of feeling awkward or looking bad when dumping a beautiful woman on national television.

Evidently I wasn't the only one waiting for his return. They polled the studio audience and a huge number of women also made their vote clear by cheering loudly that they were expecting a comeback. Those of us on Team Brooks expected our fairy tale/chick flick ending with the long drawn out scenes of an unspecified man in a suit walking up as she waited nervously, only to see his face and crazy hair at the last minute with the huge diamond and a big apology for not only the Bachelorette but all of America (at least the women sending him death threats). Instead, we got to watch Des cry and figure out plan B. (Somehow I have a hard time feeling too bad for her when she just dumped 20+ guys in a similar fashion over the past few weeks, including Zak, the guy who bought her an engagement ring after their first or second date.)

I realized when he didn't come back that because I was watching something on TV, I assumed the happy and dramatic ending I was expecting would come to be. But in real life (if you can call "reality TV" real), you don't always get the man running through the airport to stop you. Or coming back with a Neal Lane diamond and proposing on TV. 

Instead, sometimes he is too smart for that and you end up getting engaged to your second choice guy. 

And you know what, you probably be pretty happy in the end, even without the sigh worthy ending. (--and that's taking into account the fact that you likely wont marry him anyway, just like almost every other couple from the show's history.)

Because that's real life.


*And P.S. Am I the only woman in America not gaga for Juan Pablo?*

One of those days

This post has nothing to do with toothbrushing, except for the casual mentioning of the profession of dentistry in a general sense. But I feel it portrays the overall broad feeling of the post, my life at times feeling very ordinary and regimented--like the need to brush twice per day, regardless of the daily circumstances.

I stayed after clinic today to tie up a few loose ends for case presentations on Monday and my OR cases for next week.

About 7 pm I tried my best to dust off the lab materials from my face and clothes, changed out of my scrubs, and headed to the after-hours cafe. I made the seemingly long walk down to the cafeteria to pick up some dinner to feed my husband and myself tonight. As I walked, I checked my facebook and instagram (Yes, I am one of THOSE people who walks and phones at the same time. There just isn't enough time in the day to check those things when I am not walking.).

And then I realized, everyone is on vacation right now. Everyone is having fun right now. Everyone is enjoying time with their family right now. Everyone has summer off. Everyone never has to work. Everyone gets to do what they want to do, like clean the bathroom sometime this month, see their husband, have friends. Everyone.

But me.

As I carried my glamorous cafeteria-made pizzas in my backpack, hopped on my $14 garage sale bike (for commuting), hoping to see my husband sometime soon and that we will be awake enough to enjoy each other's company, I was definitely feeling the sacrifice of residency.

I enjoy my job. And today was over all a pretty good day, and I'm not meaning to complain. But sometimes it feels like I am living a very artificial and sterile life. I wonder what it must be like to actually know what the weather is like outside without having to ask someone. To go to the grocery store or bank in the middle of the day. To have a chore chart or laundry schedule (and stick to it). To notice a difference between summer and winter besides the setting on my thermostat at home.

I try to remind myself, "This week I fixed three faces" (among other things). I changed the lives of these people forever. Hopefully they will have an easier time eating the foods they enjoy. Maybe they will have the increased confidence they need to be successful. Perhaps they will be free from physical or emotional pain associated with their facial deformity.

I guess maybe it is worth the sacrifice.

But sometimes I still think it would be nice to go for a mid-morning jog or take a spontaneous overnight trip.

Keep Talkin' Happy Talk

I like to talk. 

If you know me, you've probably figured this out.

If you don't know me and read my blog, I assume you have also figured this out.

Sometimes being chatty can be helpful. I think it is easy for people to get to know me (even if I don't get to know them). I am often open and outgoing. I know other talkative people who I find quite endearing and entertaining. I hope that this is sometimes the case with me.

Unfortunately, this isn't always a good thing. Talking is an easy way to get myself in trouble! Along with my hobby of talking comes such habits (or even talents) like the overshare, interruptions, poor listening skills, self centered-ness, poor judgement and lack of discipline, and conversation piracy. "Aye me matey, this be my conversation now. Argh!"

It isn't uncommon for me to leave a party kicking myself for dominating a conversation. It is almost every week at church I have to de-brief with Abe. "What did you say THIS week?" With my guilty confessions of having one (or two, three, four) things too many to say in our lesson. And I am all too free to share my problems or frustrations with just about any one. I'm sure some of you are laughing because you know when you ask me the trite phrase, "How are you doing?" You'll often get way more than the "Fine, thank you" you were bargaining for. And I tend to trust that others will be on my side and wont use what I share (ever so easily with them) against me.

Sometimes I wish I were more of the quiet, stoic type. Abraham and most of his family are this way. They come across as cool and collected. Maybe even mysterious. They rarely have to account for their words, spreading them around carelessly or leaving them to be picked up by the wrong people. They are great conversationalists and rarely put themselves in situations where they have to feel bad for what they have said.

I have some things to learn from my more quiet friends and family and hope to be able to master my tongue. With all of the embarrassment, guilt, and frustration that I tend to bring on myself in conversation, I felt some relief when Abe read me a part of the book, How Will You Measure Your Life? by Clayton Christiansen. He states that 

Being chatty, thinking aloud, and commenting on what the child is doing and what the parent is doing or planning to do.

Oh boy, do I do this (with adults even!).

He also says, 

In short, when a parent engages in extra talk, many many more of the synaptic pathways in the child's brain are exercised and refined.

And my favorite part, 

That means children who have been exposed to extra talk have an almost incalculable cognitive advantage." 

I don't think I will be ever able to change my chatty nature but I hope to have more discipline in the future in what I say. I also apologize if any of my (many many) words have hurt you in any way. 

Until I get better, to keep myself out of trouble I guess I need to just have some kids to talk to (and grow their brains) instead!

If cleanliness is close to Godliness than I'm agnostic

http://www.knittingandpurling.com/about-karina/definition-of-a-21st-century-homemaker/

In a lot of ways I'd say I am not the traditional wife (or maybe the traditional Mormon wife). I am almost 30 and have no children. I work outside of our home and have plans to do so even after I have children (although hopefully not full time). I didn't always plan for things to be this way. When I started dental school I thought it would be a great way to find a husband. I figured the earlier I found him, the better the investment. But making it more than halfway before securing that certificate of marriage, I figured I might as well just stick with it. I do think Abe was worth the $100K investment up to that point but it seemed to make sense to continue on.

If you stopped reading there, hopefully you realized I was joking. I used to tell people that when they asked why I was going to dental school. If you find someone within the first year you are only out about $50K. Well worth it if you marry a dentist yourself.

Anyway, back to the wife thing. I am surprised being the working and non-traditional childless wife that I am how much my identity hinges on my (traditional) duties as a wife. I am so lucky to have a husband who shoulders probably well over his share of home duties (laundry, dishes, cooking, making lunches, etc). But I do feel it is MY responsibility in the end to account for what we are putting into our bodies and the status of our home. Which I am sad to say is usually a status not worth updating facebook or tweeting about.

My goal has been to clean up after ourselves more (I'm an adult but still can't seem to figure this one out!) and to keep our place clean enough to not be embarassed to have last minute guests. I was on a roll and then started Neurosurgery. Talk about disruption!

Anyway, I have toyed with the idea for quite some time about paying someone to come help me for a few hours a week getting things put back in order. I find I spend most of my free time on weekends (if I get free time) either sleeping or cleaning. I could use the help. I'd probably feel happier.

But it comes down to the wife thing...maybe it is that phrase "Cleanliness is close to Godliness," (who said that, anyway?) but I feel it is my personal moral responsibility to have a clean home (I also feel the same way about running, silly, probably, but I feel like I should be disciplined enough to like running and the fact the thought of running a marathon makes me want to barf makes me feel somehow of lesser character. I digress...). I feel a bit like a cheater if I need help. I feel like it is a lesson in discipline that I need to master. But I also feel that it would probably be money well worth it to feel a little cleaner and less stressed at home.

I bet you are thinking, "Go for it!" or "There is a time and season for everything," "don't be so hard on yourself,"etc etc. I know because I tell myself the same thing. But sometimes I find my mind wrestling my heart and often my heart wins, however illogical. But maybe I do need your "You go girls" (one of the main purposes of blogging, right?) to go for it.

How much does a "maid" cost anyway? I'd prefer to call her (or him!) my helper or "personal assistant." (And now I'm wondering, what do you call a male maid? A bit of a oxymoron. Housekeeper I guess...)

Anyone want to be my new personal assistant?

Dungeons without dragons

When I was a little girl my mom seemed to be always dreaming up her new vision for our home. She would have pages of blueprints she had drawn up. We would drive around neighborhoods looking for houses we liked. I used to wonder why she was always talking about knocking down a wall here, building a deck there, adding on an addition there.
Then I grew up. And got my own house. And like most daughters who seem to realize they are a lot like their moms, I find myself doing the same thing. I’ve been dreaming up home remodel ideas since before we moved in. Right now I am pining (or should I saw “pinning” away on pinterest) to remodel our basement. Right now it looks like this:

Ok not really, but hopefully you get the idea that this is a picture of a dungeon and that is my best description of our dark, cold, and often wet basement. (Oh, and FYI, be a little careful when searching online for images of “dungeons!”)
As of now I avoid going down to the basement. It has cold floors that as I said are often flooded, lots of spider webs and steep stairs. I don’t know how much it would cost to update things but I am mainly hoping for a finished off area we can enjoy, even if it is mainly for laundry or storage. We have limited closet space so some extra storage would be great and I’d like a nice place to be able to sit if there were a tornado warning -- or even if there isn’t a tornado warning, where we can sit without worry of drowning, freezing, being bit by spiders, or some radon related ailment in the future.
This is maybe my favorite picture. I could definitely see this working in our basement!



I also like the idea of a versatile work space with lots of cupboards and storage.





I am hoping to meet with a contractor this week to find out if this is even a possibility. Until then I’ll try not to obsess over it too much. Anyone have any ideas? Also, I am thinking of trying to use recycled cabinets if anyone has any leads.

I wont go in my ideas for the attic…that’s just going to have to wait. Probably forever.


Does anyone else do this, besides you mom? Plan your imaginary home?