i know what you're feeling

balancing two encyclopedias on its head,  realism walks ungracefully the dangerous line over the pit of fire, between objectivity and cynicism. i'm not sure i understand this self proclaimed statement myself. pin now, think later.

anyway.
just came back from Lebanon, an impromptu "vacation" that i spent helping out my mom. all dusty scraps of paper and invaluable antique items from a hoarder family inclusive. which explains the twenty day delay in writing a new post. i wonder if i'll ever run out of excuses?

a little-too-sweet taste in your soul of artificial self satisfaction when you've made someone happy.

all that was done out of love for someone who loves you back, cannot help but nudge a question of would-i-do-it-for-someone-i-care-just-slightly-less-about than my neat schedule of the day: my own personal charity, proceeds benefiting my social life, fitness goals and checklist of tv series to catch up on.
are you tired of hearing about my schedule? so am i. defaut de fabrication, deformation professionelle, obsession maladive et j'en passe! my ego always insults my id in french, its just something we do.
 
along with scheduling with a hand of steel, objectivity regarding palliative care is another feature that i thought was an attained goal of my profession (eternal medical trainee that is) 
they have really nothing to do with each other, but it makes for a nice transition, don't you think?

i've found myself drawn to, gifted at, and comfortable, at heart, with palliative care discussions with patients and families since early residency. my head somewhere is uncomfortable with this comfort and attempting to analyze its roots.

is it exposure to familial deaths so early on in life? i remember being surprised in college at a friend's unfamiliarity with death when her grandmother passed away. my bittersweet feeling of superiority, of 'death maturity'. i had all those feelings down, from the guilt, to the anger denying the grief, to where my spot in the line of condolences was.

is it the opportunity for blunt honesty that i crave (and i know they crave it too, after days of polite exchanges of hopeful uncertainties).  in discussions where most people don't want to be the ones saying these three raw words, the ones that answer all the unspoken doubts, the ones that liberate from excruciatingly unrealistic hope, three words can bring the liberation of answers, of closure, and let the light shine on comfort, on relieving pain, on bigger and everlasting hope.

i've bonded with daughters and prayed with wives and hugged mothers after the decision to relieve pain has been made. i've helped them make the right decision of selfless love in the face of certain odds. i've even answered the miracle question-nothing is impossible to God, He can still heal, what if we withdraw before He does. yes He can, and if this be His mighty plan, then no ventilator that i disconnect or no morphine that i order can ruin His healing plan. God's schedule will not be hindered by a timeline that i ordain in my icu kingdom.

and yet, i found myself become the patient's family, wonder if the outcome is certain beyond a shadow of a doubt, rationalize and minimize the amount of pain she was in, ask myself for a horrible second if i was deciding her fate to give myself some rest, so i could sleep again, so i would stop being terrified of what would happen and how she would die. i heard the guilty thoughts of betraying her trust, of playing god, of not searching for other solutions.
i've believed them for one brief second of "patient family" time. seconds that flipped the coin so i would truly know the fleeting thoughts in a daughter's head, after i've said my three words.

for the record i am talking about a cat. who was sick and not eating and still loving you with her (one)big green eye (under her likely heent tumor).for those of you who are or have been a pet's human, you will understand with no apologies needed.

i'm thankful for my teenage grief because i can understand theirs, i'm thankful for the years of training for giving me the ability to objectively recognize pain and certain outcomes, i'm thankful for the doubts because they convicted my intolerance of love's desperate what-ifs.
the agonizing few days' journey on a cat's palliative care blood stained couch made me a better doctor. God does really redeems everything, if you listen.
















 

"the accent is not the issue" and other changes

tonight is the big night where i mix my worlds and upload a picture to the blog. initially intended for instagram, with insta-sharing to facebook evidently.

i've recently started mixing my other worlds too.

-french world with a lebanese accent (lebanese, not arabic, and frenchie lebanese, make no mistake)
 -lebano-arabic world with a frenchie attitude rooted in an unorthodoxly deeply Lebanese family (we all think our family is unorthodox right? to avoid saying unique. intellectual people know that unique is dépassé, an ordinary unspecial desire).
-american world with a sorority wannabe accent, as my sister likes to call it {that really started when starbucks would not understand that i wanted a cup of water. wo-terr. i could've accepted the curious looks. or "unparanoid" the look for what it might have been: the tired one of an underpayed starbucks employee who couldn't care less about an accent. yet i now say waaate'. and Gad instead of God. you gotta follow the music}
.
and as many times as it has happened that a patient, or a consultant, or a nurse has appreciated me for my work, or alternatively has not appreciated bad work with no accent from another, i still can't get it into my head that the accent is not the savior, nor is it the issue. it is not the accent that pleases or turns people away.

that's all dandy, although let's leave the whole people pleasing, acceptance seeking (or really just strong opinion seeking) idol for another post. the latter might very well include how the accent has been a heart issue this whole time. eureka.

back to the picture

 

well that is not as great a picture as instagram would've made it to be. filtering away the ordinary into art.

 

but i'm keeping it since i announced a picture 

what am i going to do, delete all the above ramblings triggered by the picture announcement?

there's something you need to know about me. i don't do starting over. but i persevere. or evolve.

i wonder if starting over even exists. it's never the same bouncing ground, when you re-start something based on the lessons from your non-successes.

 

the picture says 07:55 AM.

which to some, is the time they come back from their run

some can run at 11 AM in 105 F and indulgently smile at my rookie, red, puffy and drenched face as they are expertly hopping out.

some people's warm ups are other people's half marathons.

 

some people's change of heart is the victory.

and isn't amazing how God just nudges your heart, just as little as He knows you can handle, to change what you didn't even imagine could be better differently. and He makes every change unique.

 

from idolizing sleep and despising early morning risers- if not early-rising for what the world has told us productivity entails-to what I consider uncoerced early rising for me.

i woke up willingly, no snoozing.

coffee and other addictions still require rising 45 mns prior. He will probably make me change that, and when i rebel, just change it Himself.

baby steps for big heart changes. 



 

A post that was not supposed to be about what it's about

i haven't posted in a while, busy with overthinking, overworking, overworrying, over to-do listing, over-medicining, overachieving.
i was mentally and physically exhausted by the end of two weeks of consults and two weeks of intensive ICU regimen. mixed with my first 5k run, a road trip to the symphony on the prairie, a road trip to southeastern Kansas for a lecture, and writing ever-renewing to do lists, shifting items around as if re-writing them on a new corner of a piece of paper somehow meant part of that job was done.

read between the words performance anxiety regarding the lecture, achievement anxiety regarding the to-do lists, fitness anxiety regarding finding time to run during all that, religious anxiety regarding not exploding in people's faces when I was tired- as my newfound insight had shown me i have been prone to do for the last 33 years.

oh and the women's conference. somehow in my unplanned post, the women's conference portion did not make my mental anxiety list. elyze fitzpatrick was speaking at church, over 2 days. too long, i just want to sleep! and i need to run! but i have to go. (have to is the most frequently used term in my family)
 
i had never heard of fitzpatrick. i thought attending a women's conference would be cool. (i don't know how i've evolved to this "hanging out with women is good" mentality after preferring male friendship all my young adulthood years, and avoiding overemotional, over analytical and overdramatic female friendships as much as possible. if there was to be any overdrama in my life, i'd be the one producing it. in case you're wondering, no that did not turn out well at all in any of my relationships).

i mainly attend all the events at church that i can to build deeper relationships and because i have realized how much i have to learn. speakers and conferences are an amazing teaching experience, but i have to admit that they cater well to my hunger for hearing about Jesus, mixed with a lazy reluctance to just pick up my Bible and read, or just pick up my brain and talk to Him.

back to the conference. i was physically exhausted but spiritually refreshed. a new baptism i felt. there is something to be said about listening to a woman state repeatedly and sing of Jesus' love for her, and her need for Him, a woman who has theoretically "achieved" all that you, in a dark dusty corner of your head, still believe that you need to make everything right.

marriage, kids, a carrier, peer approval. all of the above will make everything right culture tells us. what a horrendous lie.  i realize the devastating impact it has on my friends and coworkers and random girls i meet when i hear their stories and their longings. the prison it keeps them in and it had kept me in all these years. a lie that even after not-believing-it-anymore, even after putting out trust and hope and happiness in much more powerful hands, we still occasionally lean towards,

fitzpatrick is a strong experienced lady, who has the gift of preaching the Gospel in a slightly estrogen-laden sarcastic manner. the gift of guessing crazy convoluted women doubts and reminds you, again and again -because she knows you are a woman and need to hear things twenty different times and in twenty different ways- reminds you of His love for you.

not love "but maybe he didn't like me as much today", not love "because i did good and didn't explode in anyone's face today", not love "but i still remember all these horrible things ive done and it's weighing me down and i dare not look him in the face" UNCONDITIONAL, EVERLASTING, NEVER-ENDING, ALL-ENCOMPASSING, ETERNAL LOVE.

im not trying to sound like the jesus storybook bible. okay fine, maybe i stole a word or two from there. google elyze fitzpatrick and buy her books. youtube her, amazon her or whatever new app is available since my last techno culture check. it will change your life.  and the beauty of the modern age, is that macho-men-types-what-does-a-womans-conference-speaker-have-to-do-with-me-types (don't get me wrong, pretty attractive types they are) can order books or listen to her gender-clandestinely. i'm sure you have crazy convoluted men doubts of your own too.

what is amazingly obvious is that God tells you that He will change your heart when you start following Him. You don't really believe it. maybe you hope for it, but don't believe its possible. i mean yeah yeah sure he created the heavens and the earth blablabla but this is di-ff-rent, God. I tried to change on my own and couldn't now, could i? yes yes i know You created me and all, you can do all things, but let's be realistic. it's hilarious what condescending little creatures we are to the Creator.

just to say not only He changes you, but every time, you think you've got it, the whole creation/fall/redemption/restoration business, BAM- He slams it in your face in a whole new different way that leaves you panting with excitement all over again.
He knows when you need to be reminded of heart truths that you've packed aside, because you're an intellectual and too busy considering deeper theological or to-do listal issues. He is there in your to-do lists, your failed attempts at non-explosions, your missed runs and your lecture performance.

He is also there in a blog post that was supposed to be about "overthinking" and somehow ended up being about Jesus. hmmm. funny.