Another year…

Herb Garden

Originally uploaded by l@in.

Last Friday was my birthday. I was supposed to go out and have a night of it, but I just was not up for it. Maybe it’s age (I am now officially into my 30s), or maybe I’m just boring, but I like to think of it as just another step in the process of listening to myself a little better and trying to pay attention to what I actually want and need to do. Baby steps, you know? But it was a super nice weekend, full of good food, and good wine, and really low key fun.

Saturday we went out to dinner at my favorite deli, and afterword I treated myself to some local hiking and camping books. I don’t think I’ll manage to get in a camping excursion this year, but at least I can be ready for spring and do some local hiking. Today we went to the National Arboretum, which I’ve never been to and it was pretty awesome. We only ran around about 1/3 of it, but I can’t wait to go back.

Sometimes I really love being in DC. I mean we went to this amazing park, that’s right in town, and totally free. And there’s so much to do, and explore, if you want. DC drives me nuts, too but overall, I’m not sure if there’s a place right now that I’d rather be. So, I’m 31. I’m happy with where I am both literally and figuratively. Who knew?

unexpected guests

Today I left work early as I had a bunch of reading to do to prepare for a meeting tomorrow and hate doing that at my desk. My plan was get home, start some chili and read as it cooked. I arrived home about the same time as school was getting out. As I was about to unlock my door, two elementary school-aged kids from a few doors down walked over and asked if they could come in. The kids always ask about Oliver and the turtles because they can seem them through the window, so I assumed that they wanted to come in and attempt to play with Oliver. I told them, not today and moved towards the house. Then the little girl, said, “Our mom’s not home.” I looked at her brother who was walking decidedly towards me, and said, “Really?” He smiled and said no. “…and we don’t have a key.” Great. I asked if there was anyone else at home, and of course there wasn’t. “Well, let’s go inside!” I told them.

So there I was, needing to do work, planning on making dinner and was now host to two elementary school kids for an indefinite amount of time. As they ran into the house I tried to remember if there was anything laying around that shouldn’t be and played out disaster scenarios in my head like if their mom didn’t come home until late and I’d have to feed them vegetarian chili and they found it disgusting and I had to take them to McDonald’s or their mom would freak out when she got home because her kids were in a stranger’s house.

I only had to keep an eye on the kids for 20 minutes or so. During that time I gave the little boy a glass of milk and followed him around the house while he drank it and balanced a too-big-for-his-hands glass in just one hand as he tried to pet Oliver, and not trip over my yoga mat, and my running shoes, and the mail. They watched the Disney channel, called their mom on my cell phone, successfully petted Oliver a few times before he wisely retreated upstairs, “Can I go get him?” they asked, “Um…let’s not.”, harassed the turtles, ran the bathroom sink over and trailed armfulls of bubbles over the wood floors.

Altogether, they’re well-behaved kids. I learned that everyone at school has a cell phone and they use it all the time and found out where all the elementary schools are in our neighborhood. I was glad that they ran into me before they had to hang out on their porch until their mom came home or had to knock on every neighbors door until they found someone home, even with as safe as our neighborhood is. But honestly, they wore me out a little bit. In retrospect, had I realized that they were going to leave so quickly I should have stuffed them full of ice cream and soda and sent them on their way.

What I Learned from Clinton’s Campaign

clinton speech

Originally uploaded by l@in.

Today, Joanna and I met up with a friend to go see Hillary Clinton’s final campaign speech at the National Building Museum. We waited in the hot June sun with hundreds of others snaking around the building until we finally got inside. Fortunately we didn’t have to wait in the heat for too long, though we couldn’t see much from the second floor. We did hear the applause for Terry McAuliffe as he arrived and joked amongst ourselves that perhaps Bill had stopped off for a snack at the Burger King nearby as we watched the clock and waited.

Clinton is great speaker. She certainly did not disappoint today as she managed to address the disappointment of her supporters, the historic nature of her campaign, the need for full inclusion in the Democratic Party, and throw her full support under Barak Obama as the presidential nominee in a concise and eloquent manner.

I won’t lie, I’m genuinely sad that she didn’t get the nomination. I believe she is the best candidate for the job. I am also sad that this election will not send the first woman to the White House in a position other than First Lady.

I am, however, heartened by her speech. In hearing it live, as well as having time to reflect while awaiting her arrival I realized that there are important take-aways from her campaign. These points are especially pertinent to me as a woman. It’s difficult to explain, but I do feel that this election process has exposed the very serious cracks in the foundation our nation was built on. Sexism and racism are still present in our collective psyche. They are easy issues to ignore or try and overlook because they’re difficult to deal with. They’re messy, and personal, and emotional, but in order to really deal with them, one must do it head-on. It requires dialog both internal and external. There is no excuse for either, but I do feel as if sexism is easier to ignore. I heard a pundit on tv once I returned home this evening talking about how the idea of a glass ceiling was a “ridiculous” idea. Granted, the man was on Fox news, but I was still shocked that he said it. Shocked that he thought that was an okay comment to make as if months ago almost every news poll was asking the question if America was ready for a female President. They asked the question if we were ready for a black President too, and frankly I’m just kind of appalled that we’ve got to ask the question, even though it’s clear that we do, because we’re not sure about the answer.

Anyway, it’s a lot to process. Seeing Clinton speak this afternoon was inspiring to me. She was confident and gracious and conceded without being defeatist. I think it’s a good lesson. It got me thinking about what I might do to change my thinking about failures, both small and large, and how to work towards success in my own life. I came up with points made in Clinton’s speech today that I think would be helpful to me.

1. It’s okay to be proud and vocal about your accomplishments.

One of the first comments I heard about the speech today while watching the news was that she talked about herself a lot. My first thought was well… yeah, it was about her campaign. But then I really thought about it – she is able to talk about her own accomplishments without being self-aggrandizing. I think that’s important, especially for women, because I think we’re taught to down-play what we do and wait for someone else to congratulate us for our accomplishments, which ultimately, doesn’t do anyone any good.

2. Don’t stop just because other’s think you should.

People have been advocating that Clinton drop out of the race for months. If she had, we may never have seen just how much support was out there. I think it’s a good lesson in not giving up, trying your best, and having faith in yourself and your goals.

3. Just because you fight hard, doesn’t mean you’re going to win.

I think that sums it up. Along with this though, I think it’s easy to assume that because you didn’t win you weren’t good enough to win. In actuality, that’s not always the case.

4. Be thankful.

Clinton was thankful for the opportunity to run for President, for her supporters, her family and friends, and for the opportunities afforded her. It’s cheesy, but it’s easy to forget to be thankful.

5. Be gracious, exhibit grace.

Throughout the campaign, and even before really, I have always been a little amazed at Clinton’s graciousness. The speech she gave today must have been extraordinarily difficult, but she did it very well. I feel as if the ability to do this is born of a little hardship.

But that’s it. It was a good race. Now, time for a Democrat in the White House.

Hillary ‘08

0225081905.jpg

Originally uploaded by l@in.

Saw Hillary Clinton tonight at Lisner Auditorium on the GW campus and I must say she rocked it.

I am seriously considering campaigning for her in Ohio this weekend.

Washington Hospital Center – Follow Up

In December I blogged about my less-than perfect experience at Washington Hospital Center, during my stay after breast reconstruction surgery. Since then I’ve received 2 letters of apology, including one from the pharmacy that took a bloody decade to dispense my drugs (why the drugs have to be dispensed by the pharmacy and aren’t more readily available to the nursing staff to be administered quickly to patients in the hospital is completely beyond me, especially when the drugs have been prescribed by your doctor.) Some responses sounded more sincere than others, but overall I’m pleased at the response and genuinely hope that improvements are made so that someone else doesn’t have the same lousy experience I was treated to.

That said, the nicest response came from the head nurse of the ward that I was in. Not long after my surgery, I received a call from her. She apologized, talked to me about my experience, and said that she was looking into the matter in the attempt to make sure that it didn’t happen again. It was a nice thing to do and she sounded genuinely concerned.

Ultimately, I’m glad I sent the letter. I would encourage anyone else in a similar position do the same. It doesn’t hurt to send praise to an institution where you’ve received exceptional care either. Up until the point that I was admitted to my hospital room, my experience in recovery at WHC was so good, I was already composing the letter in my head, between injections of pain killer and nausea medication.

an open letter to Washington Hospital Center

To whom it may concern,

I am writing to relay my experience at Washington Hospital Center on the December 20th-21st.

I was scheduled to have the 3rd step of my breast reconstruction with my plastic surgeon, Dr. Susan Otero, after being diagnosed with breast cancer in 2006 and undergoing two mastectomies at another hospital in 2007. Prior to my surgery date the WHC staff called me for my pre-op check-in and were also very attentive during the check-in process at the hospital. I was very pleased with the treatment and care I received prior to surgery and post-op during my recovery. Three nurses in particular, Birdie, Claudia, and Joan provided me with very high quality care. I was very pleased with the treatment I received in recovery.

However, the first major problem came when my initial recovery nurse, Birdie, called repeatedly to find me a room. My surgery was over between 2-3pm, and I recall being fully awake and able to be moved to a room around 5pm. Around 8pm I was moved to a different, larger recovery area and put under the care of Joan and Claudia, and told that I would be moved to my own room soon. After over a four hour total wait, I was finally transferred to my own room around 9:30pm.

By this time I had missed all the meal times and was hungry and tired and wanted to be in my own room, which should have been much quieter than the hustle and bustle of the recovery area. When I finally got to my room I was checked in and asked about getting food of some kind. I was told that the meal times were over. I pressed the issue as I was very hungry, not nauseous in any way, and definitely feeling up to eating a small meal. I was told that a boxed lunch could be ordered for me. In the interim, my nurse brought a large cup of juice.

Around midnight no food had arrived and it had been about four hours since I had received pain medication. Around 12:30 when my nurse, Jillian, came into my room I told her that my pain was increasing and asked for more pain medication as well as lozenges for my throat which was very sore after being intubated. She said she would order the medication and told me that no meal had been brought. She eventually found some cereal and milk for me, which was kind of her, as the food that was ordered apparently never arrived.

At approximately 1:30 I received throat lozenges. Around 2:30am I still had not received any more pain medication and my incisions felt like they were on fire. It was almost impossible for me to rest. I had not been seriously uncomfortable post-op until around midnight when I had asked for the medication and as I stated before, had been very well cared for. In recovery I was asked about my level of pain and the nurses responded appropriately. Therefore I went from being very comfortable to being in an unacceptable amount of pain for an extended period of time even though I knew that my surgeon had ordered Vicoden for me during my recovery in the hospital. I paged my nurse. She said that the drugs hadn’t arrived from the pharmacy yet but if they didn’t arrive in 10 minutes she would go check on them herself. About 15 minutes later she came with the pain medication, apologized and she told me that it would probably take me two cycles of drugs to really feel better since the drugs I had received so much earlier were almost completely out of my system.

Around 6am my surgeon arrived and told me that I would be discharged that day, which I had expected. My nurse followed shortly thereafter and brought another round of medication. I was feeling much better by then and was awaiting breakfast since I had yet to really eat anything. When breakfast did arrive, I discovered chicken broth, jello, and more juice even though I had already eaten solid food and had requested a vegetarian meal. I was not able to eat any of the food that was brought for me. I paged a nurse and a tech arrived. When I told him about the problem, he got the person who was delivering the meals and explained the situation. The delivery person said that he had an extra breakfast and would bring it to me. It never arrived. By this time I wasn’t surprised and simply wanted to get out of the hospital so I could recover properly.

I am amazed that I was able to receive both the best and the worst care I have ever had in a hospital at the same facility in 24 hours. My diagnosis has necessitated six surgeries in the past 14 months and I have never had to wait so long for medication or food in any hospital – especially things prescribed for me by my doctor and/or things that I could have had at home. I would have fared far better if I had left the hospital and gone home after my time in the recovery area, which is unacceptable. I am at a loss as to the reason why I was not able to get the medication prescribed for me, in the hospital. Considering that during previous recoveries in other hospitals I had serious issues with nausea and required far more pain medication, my experience at WHC does not make me feel confident that it could provide me with a level of care that would keep me well and comfortable. If it was so difficult to get the medication specifically prescribed for me, I can only assume that if I became nauseous or needed a non-prescribed drug right away there was no way I would have gotten it.

While I appreciate the kindness and dedication of the majority of the WHC staff which I came into contact with, overall I am appalled by my experience there. As portions of the WHC were rated among the US’s best this year, I have to believe that I experienced huge flaws in an otherwise well-functioning system. Nonetheless, I consider my experience to be unacceptable and I feel I would be remiss if I did not relay the details of my situation in the hopes that the system can improve and others can enjoy at least a modicum of good quality care that was missing in the majority of my experience at WHC.

what a bunch of bologna

…or at least sandwich meat.

Via DCist – have you heard about the sandwich scandal? Of course the congressperson in question is from Indiana.

Shocker!

Joanna thinks that a campaign should be started to send Congressman Souder (R) a grilled (not toasted) sandwich every day. Now, where can I send a campaign donation for that?

I can take it

Today I met up with my Castle Connolly, top rated plastic surgeon, for the 2nd post-op visit. She asked me how I was doing with the pain. I was honest and told her that when I was able to rest whenever I wanted during recovery, I was down to taking the pain meds from every 5 hours to every 8 or so, which was a big improvement. Yesterday I had some appointments and errands to run downtown, so it was kind of my test run day to see how I’d do on the metro, walking all over the place and generally having a more normal day than I’ve had since surgery. As I informed my Dr. this pushed me back down to needing the meds every 5-6 hours again. I told her that I had been doing pretty well but refused to suffer in pain when I didn’t have to. She quickly agreed that there was no reason for me to suffer through it needlessly and that I was smart enough to figure out when I didn’t need the drugs again. I also told her that I’d been taking some darvocet that I had left over from severe back pain that I was experiencing this summer which seemed to knock me out and make me feel a little more out of it which let me sleep (otherwise I would wake up in the middle of the night for meds, or sleep very badly and wake exhausted). So she gave me a prescription for that as well.

Since I was still in pain, she said that she’d wait to fill my tissue expander until next week. I said, “No, no, no!” as I had geared myself up for it, had taken some anticipatory drugs and had the rest of the day off. She asked if I was sure, and I said, “Absolutely – let’s do it!” She called my favorite nurse, who gathered the needle and the saline bag and then used a magnet to find the metal valve in my expander so the saline could be inserted. When she got to 100ccs she asked me if I wanted to stop – I told her, I’m ready, I’ll take as much as you’re willing to give me. She stopped at 150ccs, which, according to my understanding is quite a large expander fill and if I have the conversion correct it’s about the equivalent of about 5oz. So now there’s essentially just over a serving of juice that’s been injected to a silicone container which sits half under and half over my newly split pectoral muscle supported by alloderm, and a whole lotta stitching.

To give you an idea of what this feels like, it’s as if someone has placed a concrete block on the left side of my chest, and occasionally pokes the outer perimeter with an ice pick. The actual filling process is less intense, but still increases according to the amount of fluid being inserted. If you’re familiar with the Peaches song Operation, where she all but screams, “I can take it!”, that’s what was going through my head towards the end of the fill.

Now I’m safely at home with a nice cocktail of valium, vicoden, and darvocet-n coursing through my veins, and thanks to Joanna, sushi waiting for me in the fridge. You should be impressed that I was able to type this out at all.

Why bother?

Sometimes I wonder how I got cancer, then I wonder why I waste my time….

ala exhibits

Today I hit the ALA exhibits area and had a totally fun time. I feel like I’m one of the few people that I went through grad school with who has never been to any part of the ALA conference. I decided to go to the exhibits area since it was inexpensive exposure to the conference and my company would easily cover that cost. Talking to various exhibitors, I was a little surprised that very few of them got my title (which shortened to “Internet Librarian” which was the official title of my predecessor). One library software exhibitor that I talked to was all but hostile when I told him my title and where I worked, saying, “What’s that have to do with libraries?” I was amazed at the degree to which many people in and serving the field, simply didn’t get it.

Regardless, I had fun. I got to look at products that I’m interested in but don’t currently have the opportunity to use, and re-familiarize myself with all of the pertinent vendors. I’ve also gotten to hang out with local librarians, and friends from grad school whom I rarely get to see which has been super nice.

Most importantly I scored lots of free books and went holiday shopping for my little cousins. It’s nice to have that out of the way so early. I got them:

• Feels Real Under the Sea
• West Virginia, The United States, by Julie Murray
• Little Whistle’s Medicine, by Cynthia Rylant
• How To Speak Moo, Deborak Fajerman
• Skippyjon Jones, by Judy Schachner – I got this one signed by the author
• An Egg is Quiet, Diana Aston & Sylvia Long
• Noah’s Ark, Jerry Pinkey