A Day in March at South Fork

Investigating

Found a giant Y

It's even more impressive in real life.

I fell in.

We ran into old friends.

Happy late-winter

KidM's actually trying to look stunned for the camera - KidV's all CHEESE!

Match day dinner at Stormin' Burrito!!!!

KidM Planning something woodsy

A difficult hike - KidV was actually getting sick and we didn't know it.

Dressed up in lead outfit for Interventional Radiology...very heavy. Also very warm.

A few photos

Dismantling an old Punch Card Time Clock

KidV and a mysterious gypsy

At the South Fork

Happy Night with Lovebirds

Axial abdominal MRI with contrast.

Of note: KidM asked for a shoulder-length haircut. Never thought I'd see that one. R is working from home. KidV is so TALL. I am finishing my last week of surgical oncology sub-internship...think 15 hour days and lots of colon. Our family is staying HERE for my Emergency Medicine Residency (woohooooo!). That's all folks!

Giant cupcake pirates

Two pirates and their giant cupcake. NB: clinging lemurs around the ankles

Do pillbugs go toward different colors of light or do they choose the dark?

KidM in full "Ta-da!" mode with her science fair project just after finishing it the night before it was due. KidV is searching for signs of her involvement in running the experiments. She had been co-light-operator.

On the wall when we walked into the gym on science fair night

One of KidM's friends giving her a sweet congratulations hug

KidV positively overcome with excitement about one of the other projects

KidM got a crazy-nice gift! She loves it and is already making ample use of it.

Lost in translation: Thrift store

On KidV: Rock star glam wig by Party Central and Linen flower dress by Bonnie Jean via Thrift Store

M and V using Nana's collection to get beautiful. On KidM: Violent Red lipstick and glitter-velour top. On KidV: the remains of Violent Red lipstick and vintage SSI-emblem top supplied by Patty C.

Our friend Jenn S after submitting to "The Salon." On Jenn: hairpiece by Gap via LJ Miller, hand-crafted origami pinwheels, wooden-bead bracelet supplied by Beth A, and hair accessories by Goody

A friend at KidM's birthday party in impromptu "Captain Bucket-Head" attire. On Jo-Jo: bucket supplied by Cousin Trisha

KidV and our awesome Liverpool/Johannesburg ex-neighbor. On KidV: Tie-dye from cousin Rachel and Madras shorts from Gymboree via Thrift Store. On Janice: Own Collection

The above is to demonstrate that we are All About Dressing Up. Any observation that The Gunns may possess or may be able to obtain a certain type of outfit is most likely correct.

What follows is a really old post from two years ago. Janice and Jenny have left our neighborhood, and we miss them immensely.

Yesterday, one of my neighbors knocked on the door we never use. Peeking through the slits of the blind, I spied a female figure but couldn't place her, so I asked Vivi: "Who's that?" "Mama, that's Janice and Jennifer's mom!" Janice and Jennifer's family moved into these apartments two months ago from Liverpool, UK. Before that, they had lived in South Africa. The father is Anglo, the mother originally from China. Janice and Jennifer are beautiful little girls who look half-Asian but speak in little Liverpool accents (or are they South African? My American ear doesn't know the difference). I swear, we live in the most culturally diverse American locale south of Brooklyn. But I digress.

I undid the chain and deadbolt and pried the sticky door open, then greeted J&J's mom, Jane. Three kids crowded around her - one was Janice. Jane began in heavily-accented English, not a Liverpool accent, but an Asian accent: "Do you have a...Sheep Suit?" I'm calculating. Did she really say Sheep Suit? If I start talking about a sheep suit, will this create more confusion? So I reflect the question:
"Do we have a SHEEP SUIT?"
"Yes. A SHEEP SUIT."
Okaaaayyyy. I jump to cultural inaccuracies, like, maybe they have a lot of sheep suits in Liverpool...or South Africa. Not likely. Maybe we are so materially extravagant in America that maybe it makes sense to a newcomer that we could have...lots of...suits? I DO actually have a lion suit, a leopard suit, a boys' suit even though I have no boy, a flower suit, a weed suit, and numerous movie star suits. Okay, the assumption that we could potentially have a sheep suit is a reasonable assumption.

"I'm sorry, we don't have a sheep suit." Just then it occurred to me that this may not be a Halloween endeavor but a school musical endeavor. Every year at our kids' school, each grade performs a musical. So I suggested: "Oh! Does Janice need to be a sheep for the school musical?" Janice instantly replied, with feeling, "November eighth!!!" Okay. So this poor mom who has just moved here is trying to muddle through the packet of instructions on how to build your kid's outfit with rest of us confused native moms. So I asked, "Are other kids in your class sheep, too?" I was banking on using their ideas. Janice told me that there were foxes, and frogs, and owls...etc. Usually it's a group effort that some creative and generous parent in the class organizes and batch-orders because usually everyone's the same thing. But apparently Janice is to be the only sheep.

So then Jane said, "Is there a store where I can buy a sheep suit?" Hmmm. Not so much. So I begin somewhere:
"You could try Party Central, but I'd look up the phone number on the internet and call before going there because it's a long shot. But we usually have lots of luck with the Thrift Store on North Decatur - Last Chance Thrift Store. Do you know which one I'm talking about?"
"Thrift Store?"
"Yes..." How to explain thrift stores. My Australian friend once drunkenly demanded I bring her a "serviette," and I had no idea what she was talking about. What's the Liverpool / South Africa equivalent of a thrift store?  All this cultural equivalence talk does not even begin to approach the fact that Last Chance Thrift Store is an extremely busy establishment that one must brace oneself to enter, and use all one's creativity to achieve a goal within. In fact, the best way to go to the thrift store is with nothing at all in mind, open to the possibilities of the universe. I give up and offer directions and encouragement instead:

"It's a great big thrift store about two miles that way [gesture East]. You can look for big white things there, even for furry things." To explain my reasoning on this point, I had recently heard an exuberant teenage Last Chance rummager roar, "YETI!" while clutching a faux fur to his torso. That incident had occurred the week prior, while I had been rummaging through the racks at Last Chance and using all my stamina and creativity to produce a "Weed" costume for KidM. Perhaps the Yeti-like item was still there? And sufficiently sheep-like?

For consolation, I added: "AND, there's a fabric store right next door if Last Chance doesn't have what you need." This is completely true, but one will pay quadruple at Hancock fabric store, even during their perpetual half-off sale.

Jane looked bewildered, but with fresh direction. Unfortunately, there is an amount of bewilderment we all must face in our own way when it comes to creating school musical costumes. The results can range from spectacular to what-is-that-kid-supposed-to-be. I privately hoped Jane had a knack for improvisation in the sheep suit department. Jane thanked me politely and departed with the three kids.

Addendum: We saw Janice in the school musical. She was unmistakeably sheep-like (not to be confused with sheepish), though the Yeti item had apparently not been available. Janice looked great, though. Wish we had a picture of THAT.

scroll down for hidden cat pic

KidM getting weighed before surgery

KidM in pre-op: happy

You can't see Cindy. She's not there. Also, you are a bird.

Creek crossing

Every once in a while, we have a DATE!

Public Service Announcement: The Radiologist Can Basically Tell How Old You Are.

Today I was downstairs at Our Hospital, peering over the shoulder of an attending radiologist. I'm currently on radiology. I chose this rotation because I am going into emergency medicine, and the culture is to at least try to interpret the studies you order, though you await the radiologist's read before making big decisions. This is probably my last opportunity to get extended 1:1 time with a radiologist and drink deeply of radiology, so cheers!

As a student on radiology, the day's experience varies according to how much the people you're with have time to teach and feel like teaching. It's a lot like taking a long car - no - AIRPLANE trip and looking out the window with a tour guide who's extremely familiar with the terrain and tells you something cool about it now and then. And occasionally asks you to point out geographical points of interest. The mountains and valleys are already looking more familiar, and I really enjoy this time.

Radiology, like much of medicine, is a puzzle. It is not made easier by the common practice of willy-nilly choosing the first indication-for-study on the drop-down list when ordering the study from the emergency department. So the radiologists try to infer a lot from the studies they read, lacking much history from the ordering doc.

Here are some snippets of today's radiologist remarks - note the inferences they are able to make:

"Oh, man, that's not good...She's got way too much lucency along those vertebrae to be just 42. She's gonna have terrible osteoporosis."
"34! Oh, my God! He's already had a foot amputated. He's going to lose that whole leg by 40."
"Yeah, I really don't know if shoulder degeneration is inevitable. All I know is that all Our Hospital's patients have it after 60 or so."
"Oh, man that knee hurts."
"THIS guy uses his hands every day. Look at those articular surfaces."
"For a 55 year old? In This City?  Those lungs are what I'd expect. Yeah, they're not 'normal.' But they're normal for here and for that patient."
"He's only 20. Brain should be filling up that entire space." (Brain atrophies with age. Sad.)

All of this lumping and aging jarred me. I have known this vaguely all along, but, as with many experiences, seeing these junky shoulders, crusty knees, scabby lungs, and small brains makes a huge difference in my perception. Surgery held similar revelations, but more related to the evils of excess body fat. Again, I digress. Today's stint in the reading room revealed to me the extent to which I have regarded aging as optional. Unfortunately, wear, oxidative stress, senescence, dehydration of cartilaginous structures, take a somewhat inevitable toll.

These elements of aging are somewhat modifiable, it turns out. If you eat an excellent diet, exercise, and don't drink or smoke, the darnedest things can still beset your body, but you can stave off a lot of this wear-and-tear, often brought about by cumulative oxidative stress.

I think about what I eat a lot; I really do. I am sitting here eating peanut M&M's as I type this, but I do *think* about the fact that I'm choosing to do that. Today put a new spin on how I think about it. I'm young, but not too young. I've had a few minor health issues, some brushes with moderate health issues, and I have osteoarthritis in my left thumb. Stop rolling your eyes, you over-50 set people.  I know you think I'm a wuss and that you are about to stop reading this. Hold on, though! Don't let your boogered-up cartilage and small brains stop you from sticking with me :). (You can come visit and kick my butt. As long as you visit.)

All this reminds me to eat well, even when I don't feel like it. It reminds me to sit up straight, to exercise moderately every single day. You see, good foods that look like where they came from oxidize a lot less. Veggies can actually protect cells from oxidation. As for exercising, good stress sends the body signals to strengthen bone, ligament, tendon, and muscle - though this last tissue is the only one that's discussed because it's the one that gets all big. It all makes a difference.

SO: Those of you who wrestle with feeling like you're consistently doing the right things but the outside of you isn't changing - take heart! The inside of you loves it! So what if you're recently on the bandwagon. all those cheesy fries and donuts are a sunk cost - forget about them and move on. Choosing whole foods, good fats, and fresh vegetables is a supreme and unfortunately globally uneven privilege. Choose them! I just put down my peanut M&M's...for now at least. Junk is culturally embedded in me, and for many of us. I have a few peeps who just sail above the temptation to duck into McD's now and then, but Yours Truly? My husband will tell you: I salivate for french fries weekly...and eat them biannually.

So I don't have any easy answers for affording whole foods (the foods, not the supermarket) or for getting through temptation to put junk in the body...but I'm trying to work it out and will gladly take suggestions. Many of you love to grow stuff. So do I, but I'm mainly obsessed with seeds and habitually let about 75% of my crop fail because my heart was really in finding which seeds were still viable. Getting past the easy part and getting to the staking, weeding, and harvesting in a timely fashion will be this year's challenge. We all have strengths and weaknesses in the healthy living department. (Not the Health Department.) Today my revelation is only this: Your X-ray is telling on you. You can't cheat the effect your choices make on your tissues. But being humble and knowing this can maybe encourage you, like me, to think about your cartilage, your lungs, your bones, your articular surfaces...and to throw those thoughts over top of your thoughts about french fries. 

My best to all - especially the Over-50's who let me rib them and still read on...get it? Rib? Like an X-ray?

PS: If you know me well, you'll know that Match Day is March 15, 2013. I have been cool about it until the past week or so. Now I officially have inner turmoil...which is why I'm avoiding the subject entirely!

Christmas traditions

Reading the Christmas story
Crafts!
Christmas cookies!
Shepherd's Stew on Christmas Eve
Giving a portion to people who have less
Funky Christmas, A Charlie Brown Christmas, and American Folk Songs for Christmas
Obtaining and hanging mistletoe (MOM!)
Reading the Best Christmas Pageant Ever, a chapter per night, leading up to Christmas
Elf and It's a Wonderful Life.
"Mother of God" by Yeats, first introduced to me in this post by a friend to whom I am indebted for drawing it to my attention...and for so many more things than I can ever name!
Calling family on Christmas
Lighting candles
Gazing at the Christmas tree
Watching the kids bounce from overwhelmed joy to thankfulness on Christmas morning
The annual family Christmas photo that never makes it out until Christmas Eve or after

On an unrelated note, my friend Kristin Conradi shared with me an old Norwegian saying that I will share with you:
There's no bad weather; only bad sweaters.
Thank you, dear Norway. I love you vicariously through loving my dear Norwegian friend.

Saturday / The Anatomical Shut-Down

Playing "Playmobopoly": Monopoly plus Playmobil = BIG FUN. The big piles of money and deeds didn't make it into the photo this time.

Watching a train roll by on Saturday

Looks innocent: a mere bowl atop some books

On closer inspection: R Tracks. Three...maybe four days old. Yes, those are Cheetos.

Above is a selection of recent family goings-on. I love finding R Tracks.

I don't normally get involved in online conversations, unless my amazing and talented friends have shared something of their own (See: poem by Sarah Park, "Resolution").

The English Patient

I usually don't write about the guilty pleasure of reading a novel, snatched between necessary activities, but this book is exceptional. Like poetry, this book makes me hungry for it between-times. Here:

"They talk, the slight singsong of his voice within the canvas smell of their tent, which has been his all through the Italian campaign, which he reaches up to touch with his slight fingers as if it too belonged to his body, a khaki wing he folds over himself during the night."

And: "But I never imagine Herodotus this way. I see him more as one of those spare men of the desert who travel from oasis to oasis, trading legends as if it is the exchange of seeds, consuming everything without suspicion, placing together a mirage."

"She sniffs the stone, the cool moth smell of it."

In the Sistine Chapel: "They were under the huge vault. The sergeant lit a flare, and the sapper lay on the floor and looked up through the rifle's telescope, looked at the ochre faces as if he were searching for a brother in the crowd. The cross hairs shook along the biblical figures, the light dousing the coloured vestments and flesh darkened by hundreds of years of oil and candle smoke."

Now, pictures:

Getting ready for school

Biking KidM: candid

"EYE."

KidV's reading nest

Giving Thanks

For Grandma Polly, who told me: do not be afraid of tears. And who took me on a bike ride every day at a really important time. Who told me about getting counseling when Jack died, and how much it helped her. Who bobbed her foot up and down as she held a stemless wine glass and laughed with friends.  Who kept a funny book. Who told the same story better every time. "Now, JUMP, Mama!"

For Dr. Schwartz, who wears shorts when he gets home.  Who loves the physical exam.  Who was the first person besides me to communicate with my daughters by email.

For Susan, whose inexorable logic and staunch acceptance of reality-as-it-is has been my brain for me so often that she's almost taught me how to do it myself.  Who gives goats their AM and PM meds.  My good friend, Spotted Face.

For Mazie, who sings along with the Seeger Family. Who laughs at embarrassment. Who makes me laugh so hard first thing in the morning: "Mama, I'm a tickle-neck!"

For Vivian, who loves to pull her pants up high and dance around.  Who finds reasons to hug. Who nests. Who wept last night over not getting to read The Hobbit.

For Ira L, who raises the bar.

For Adeolu, who makes beauty with her hands - quickly, on the mark.  Who sings "Sweet Lamb" and dances along.  Who sparkles with her eyes.  Who drives a race car every day, somehow. Who tells it like it is.  

For Miss LJ, who brings beauty, sweetness, and love with her wherever she goes.  Who sings like a strong, strong angel.  Who dances like nobody's watching. Who loves a man who loves to find things. Who puzzles through a human.

For Pete, who works on Saturdays and walks two small dogs every day and analyzes plot lines while learning new chords. Who works the grill in 105F weather without complaining even one time. Who first taught me about being cool. And then gave me a really hard time about how cool I came to be. Who helped me grow up with Vince Guaraldi, Steely Dan, Miles Davis, Led Zeppelin and Sade in the background.

For Richie, who finds just the right type of monkey to draw.  Who bakes turkey and shares it.  Who gets up and feeds a dog he can't stand right now.  Who loves the dog anyway.

For Grandpa Jan, who adores waterfalls as well as Irish Wolfhounds.  Who has a conductor's wand just to add veracity to his shadow-conducting. Who loves a good after-dinner Brandy.  Who taught me chess and craps.

For my Pop-pop.  Pop-pop who taught me fishing, weather, birds, fiddler crabs, math, making dill pickles and peach preserves.  He taught me not being in the picture, taking the picture with your mind. Whose quiet ways preceded his loud voice. Whose boot-clad form I saw every morning at 6 a.m. spreading birdseed in the back yard.

For Kristin, who works and plays in equal measure.  Springsteen in her heart and work on her hands, she wears it all gracefully.  Singing Happy Birthday in Norwegian.  Miss Karate!

For Sarah, strength and grace incarnate.  Humbler than humble. Pleads with me for my own sake. Who pets a parakeet's nose feathers out of the way because he likes it.

For mom, who sends poodle skirts our way and helps out at Baby Pantry and dresses as a zombie clown.  Nothing scarier or cuter.  In the whole world. Mom, who popped me out like a little guppie.  Who embarrassed the hell out of me in the mall.  My small, strong, sailor-mouthed mommy, who will ever be warm and tan in my mind's eye.  But who needs to stay the hell away from the tanning booth, dammit.

Chronically underestimating the time it takes...

It's Thursday. I am home. The girls went out the door this morning with a huge kiss on the cheek and a poster. Each bore a different sort of school project poster that the girl, Richie, and I had *successfully* collaborated on without any tears from anyone. Vivian's project is "100 Days of School: One Hundred Leaves" and Mazie's is a visual report of Five Children and It.

Yesterday I did about half of what I meant to do. I wasn't idle; each thing took twice as long as I had budgeted for it. I cleaned the girls' room, getting rid of about four cubic feet of knick-knacks as I went. I busted several of Vivian's hordes of tiny things - so cute...and asked her to consolidate them into one (Vivian reacts poorly to unauthorized disturbances of her tiny things). Vivian's personal specialty is to encase things in other things. She's on the committee. Mazie is more about abandoned knitwork projects and hording books behind her futon.

I also cleaned the kitchen in a way I had forgotten could be done. Observe our shining stovetop, our spotless - and crudless - cabinet interiors, and our greaseless oven. Later today, you'll be able to observe our clean fridge and shining rice cooker. Oh, to make new again. So I guess I've been renovating in a very small way.

But the reason I'm writing about this is that my getting done approximately half of what I meant to is related to something much larger about this med school journey. I have chronically underestimated how much time and effort any one thing would take. Interviews were no different. I managed to believe that a one- or two-night stay in an unfamiliar hotel / city meant that all the time that I was not actually interviewing would be work time. Same for any airport down-time, flight time, in-between travel turnaround time. When I have never traveled like that before. At the holidays. With a family at home, at the holidays. In reality, each interview was a flurry of timeliness struggles, business transactions, physical hardship (baggage without rolling wheels - walking with overstuffed duffel), and navigation mishaps. I would arrive home, having had a sum total of about 45 minutes of actual "down time" on my interview, which I would have invariably used to check the weather and try the different HVAC settings available to me. NO WORK GOT DONE. So in this case, my overestimation was infinite. My ratio is something like this:

Planned work: actual work done = Something:0
Something/0 = infinity
Infinite overestimation

This equation (or my frank folly) forced me to jam my research paper into about a week and a half, which meant for a very busy week and a half and a rushed research paper that would have benefited from more trades between my advisor and me.

Here's the thing: I look at a challenge and say, "Nyeh. I can do that." And then I get to the thing and it's really hard. Not just that, it also takes a long time. So I just go and go and go and then it gets done. And I am all unshowered and I haven't exercised in weeks, and my reaction time is slow, and one eye is a lot droopier than the other because this is what happens to me when I am really tired.

And then...I forget that it unfolded that way just in time to underestimate time and effort when the next challenge arises. The key is, part of forging (get it? Forget / forge) ahead with this doctor thing in the first place is not knowing / quickly forgetting how much it demands. And then I am almost always glad and proud on the back end of whatever challenge happened, as long as nothing fell apart in the meanwhile (sometimes we are not so lucky). And I always remember that I am far from the only one who's sacrificing - there are many others.

Moral: the next best thing to being a medical knowledge / research acumen / super mom savant is having a poor memory for hardship and a resilient family:

Researching the elusive parking lot sago palm

Kitty School

Just when I think my kids are all "mature" and "growing up too fast"(see above), they do something so utterly ridiculous...like play Kitty School all morning.

The premise of Kitty School is basically the same idea as a homeschool co-op.  Both of the girls were Kitty teachers, and they each had several kitty children. They took turns teaching subjects that ranged from extremely academic (kitty math) to purely physical (walking on your hind legs). I overheard Vivian say to one of her kitties, "Now it's time to practice walking quietly." Mazie was even teaching her kitties some theatrical skills: "Here's how you do a demanding Meow: MOWW. MOWW."

Here is some further transcript:
M: I teach the basic skills and you...no, wait, you...
V: I teach the "Better at Being a Cat" group. (time passes in silence for a bit)
V: Now let's practice being quiet...while walking on FOUR feet. Wait. Levanika's old enough that she doesn't have to go to school.
M: You get to go outside.
V: No. Recess is basically were everyone decides to sleep or eat.
M: All mine sleep (giggles). Wait- first I teach Snips and Tabs The Basics, and then you can teach them how to be Better at Being a Cat.
M: And you each get a child-
V: No, you don't. I'm your assistant teacher. That's why all my children HAVE to come. Levanika really wants to ride on your back.
M: Okay! Here, IN, not ON! (stuffing stuffed cats into her clothes). Mama! (to me) Look! The Twins are in my stomach fur! Levanika is on my back! And Vivian's other kids are in my tail! I stuck the kids in my fur so they wouldn't get lost.
V: (laughing hysterically)

V: Cindy is absent today. (Cindy is our real live cat)
M: -snickers- Yeah, she didn't want to stay.

M: We need a bowl.
V: Why?
M:(silence)
V: Why?
M:(silence)
Me: Mazie, why do you need a bowl?  Please tell Vivian. If you don't answer your sister, it may incline her to fuss. That's frustrating.
M: Oh, Mama. It's lunch time.

They had such a good time that I wasn't about to limit their bowl-use.
I got one really interesting picture of Vivian (dressed as a "Tuxedo" cat in a boy's vest):

That's it, people! That's what happens when I am working all day on writing up my research and the girls do their own thing all winter day long.

Art and friends

Vivian grabbed the camera...yes, she is running out of teeth.

Mazie taking in an exhibit in all its marvelous complexity

Dinner with friends.

Exhibit that enthralled our whole family

Lovely friends with their dearie son

Our kids are at ages when they're starting to interact with art differently. They really care about it. So fun to watch them become struck by a piece, or to grab the camera and start taking their own photos. The exhibit I show here is by a work by Sarah Tze called "Book of Parts." This is beauty out of the found; beauty from nothing. Each of us was struck by a different element: Jenn by the landscapes painted on milk cartons. Mazie liked how "everything was propped in a way that kept things from hurting the stuff around it." Vivian liked "how balanced it was." I liked the play on reuse and the smattering of live plants throughout. Also the rows of rocks. Richie liked the architecture of the curving supports. Aaron noticed there was a plane ticket - legit plane ticket - on one element.

You can see the sweet baby in the last picture. He visits our house with his mom and dad several times a week, and is a most welcome visitor. He is king of the house for the bit that he is here. Vivian and Mazie attend to his every need, make sure he doesn't hurt himself, give him magnets and blocks to play with. It's dear, he's dear, and we are so thankful for him. Dear boy!

The dinner photo is from a delicious dinner during which we talked with friends and Miss LJ gave our family a little impromptu warm-up concert...complete with stretching lessons. Her voice is absolutely thrilling. As she geared up, you could practically feel her insides rattling with the force of the sound...utterly on-key and vibrant. Her magnificent voice gave us all goosebumps and brought tears to Vivian's eyes - absolutely thrilling!

Let it be known that if you are our friend (there's so much more for future posts), we love you and we value you immensely. You bring richness to our lives - all our lives. My kids rely on your perspective, on your kindness, on your talents, to help them learn about the world. And Richie and I just love you!