Friday, April 3, 2015

Pebble-in-the-shoe times.



16 minutes.

That's all I have before I need to get dressed and get out of the door for today. But it's welling inside of me. This need, this urge to write.

And so I will. Forgive the errors in advance. They come with stream of consciousness writing.

Yeah.

Have you ever walked around with a shoe on your foot and felt something like a piece of gravel or some kind of something pressing into your skin with each step? Only to pull off your shoe and shake it and put it back on only to feel that little icky-sticky thing still there? Then, if you're like me, first chance you get, you yank it off again but this time your rub your hand and fingertips all across the insole in search of the whatever-it-is that is niggling at you.  . . but feel or find nothing. Nothing to explain it therefore no clear way to remove it.

Yeah.

And so. You just say eff it and walk around anyway with that irritating little prickle in your foot because, I mean, you have no choice. And eventually, if you're lucky, it either goes away or you're able to stop worrying about it enough to get on with wherever it is you have to go.

Yeah.

I have weeks like that sometimes. "Pebble-in-the-shoe" times I call them. Something is just a little off, a bit awry and I'm not sure why. My A game feels like a B- game and I become prideful and second-guessy about things that normally wouldn't bother me. Sometimes it's primarily at home. Sometimes it's at work. And on the ickiest days it's both.

Yup.

This week, it's mostly been on the work front. There's a tiny pebble in my shoe that has lingered all week. It started with a lecture I gave at a national meeting on Tuesday where, with each slide and word, I could feel that irritating little shard sticking me over and over again. And I'll even admit to you that it started that morning with me looking in the mirror and really, really not liking my hair which is still quite overdue for cutting. It was downhill from there. It was an out-of-town meeting and I hadn't packed the right clothes so what I wore also didn't feel right either. And yes, this probably sounds ridiculously trivial and vain to someone, but those who know me also know that I'm a firm believer in the look good, feel good philosophy.

Yeah.

So anyway. The lecture was fine, just not great, you know? Like the way the pebble doesn't cut your foot open or cause it to bleed but just makes the journey less fun. Yes. That. And I guess it has trickled into my week which is now on the wards at Grady.

Yup.

On Monday I start vacation. I'm whisking the kids, along with Zachary's best friend, away to the beach for a few days. Usually I don't clamor for such times but I think it may be just the panacea for what I'm feeling. That, and what I plan to do today.

What's that you ask? Well simple. I am going to do the thing that always, always makes me feel better when the pebble-in-the-shoe is happening at work. I am going to simply sit with my patients and talk to them. As a resident, I called it "heart rounds" and secretly still do. It usually happens in the afternoon after all of my "regular work" has been completed. I look at my list and simply go to the bedside. I pull up a chair and treat it a lot like that NPR show StoryCorps. I ask questions about their lives and just listen.

Yup.

I do a little of that every day on wards of course. But heart rounds is different because it is more intentional and separate from regular rounds. Time is carved out for it and there is no ulterior motive or information that I'm trying to gather for some management decision. It is just me plugging into humankind and downloading into my soul, my heart. There is no better place than Grady for that. I mean it. I'll let you know how it goes.

Well. There goes my 16 minutes. I went over by a few but that's okay. Writing is the other thing that shakes pebbles out of my shoes so thanks. Yeah. Thanks for giving me this space, this place to tell you all of this. Okay?

***
Happy Good Friday.


8 comments:

  1. Heart rounds? You are all kinds of phenomenal. What a blessing to your patients. And the best part is it seems like you get just as much out of it as them. I hope you and the fam enjoy your vacation!

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    Replies
    1. You know what, Stacey? It was awesome. It truly was. And I do get just as much as my patients, arguably more. I do.

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  2. Hearing others' stories is a humbling honor for me.
    I believe it is for you, as well.

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    Replies
    1. It is. It is! I think this is what I love so much about reading what you've written. . .especially when you are just talking about the most ordinary things. It draws me in--literally. Like, I feel like it is a painting and by reading your hands, the artist writing it, has drawn me into the scene. And that's an honor. To be welcomed in as a piece of the scenery, to be allowed to be metaphorically and physically drawn in to a story.

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  3. I know that feeling. What a wonderful way to dispel that feeling. I'd never thought of it.

    PS We need more doctors like you. Enjoy your Easter.

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    Replies
    1. It always makes me feel better. And today it did just the trick.

      P.S. I also got my hair cut. ;)

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  4. I've missed your blog; for some reason I just haven't visited in a long time. I'm glad I came back. I love the way you write and I admire the woman that you are.

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  5. My oncologist does that. The few times he's had me in the hospital he shows up in the middle of the day just to chat. Silly me, I thought I was special.

    ReplyDelete

"Tell me something good. . . tell me that you like it, yeah." ~ Chaka Khan

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