I am not a typical woman, sending soppy greeting cards for even the slightest event in one's life. You know the kind- the covers are usually graced with butterflies, sailboats in the sunset or still lifes, most often with kittens in the foreground. On the inside, they have VERY long verses, so long that they have to be written on both sides of the card's interior. Face it, no one reads that. Usually the nausea starts kicking in too strong halfway through the first side for the reader to go any further and the rest is skimmed to the ending to see the business end- what the card is trying to convey - Happy Birthday, Congratulations on your new baby, etc and who sent the card. I do not send those cards. That said, I do not send fart joke cards either. I have some degree of taste. I will send humorous cards, just not Delta House frat boy cards.
There are cards that I would have liked to have sent, but did not for reasons of family unity, world peace, decorum, etc. I know there are some who will send those "I can't believe he did it" kinds of cards, I have seen it happen. A friend in college sent a sympathy card to a friend who married a woman with a case of raging borderline personality disorder. Was it the right thing to do? Probably not, but it was funny as hell and none of us in our social group got along with his new spouse very well. We hated to see him suffer and new that as long as he was with her, that was what was going to happen to him, so it did seem appropriate.
There are a lot of card sentiments that really could be put to good use by those of us who are gusty enough to send them. If only they could just divert the poets long enough to write them. For example:
Congratulations on your new baby...
-Too bad he/she is so damn ugly.
-I think he looks like the mailman, how about you?
-Maybe this one will beat the odds and have brains.
Congratulations on your Marriage...
-we wish you the best, but he is sleeping with your maid of honor so we all know were that's going.
-maybe this time it will last.
-It had better last considering the washcloths on your registry cost $90.
I'd send you flowers on Valentine's day but...
-I think you're and asshole.
-But I figured we might as well skip the dying flowers and get to the point so I sent condoms.
-I sent them to yo mama.
Happy Birthday!
-Try not to puke in your designated driver's back seat this year.
- You don't look a year older than 100!
- Don't forget to check your blood sugar before you eat that cake. Remember how you ended up in the ER last year in diabetic ketoacidosis.
Happy Father's Day
- I got you your favorite- cheap beer and generic cigarettes!
- even if you did beat the crap out of me and mollest my sister whenever Mom went to visit Grandma.
- I hope you enjoy your card because if you do not stop whining about the condom breaking, this if the last one you will see.
Happy Mother's Day
- to the Travel Agent for Guilt Trips of the Year.
- even if you did like my brother better.
- I liked you a lot more when you were still in the State Hospital.
Monday, November 29, 2010
Friday, November 26, 2010
Card Categories that should exist but do not
Rather than
-For the Happy Couple
try
-For the Unhappy Couple
Instead of
-New Baby
we need
-New Crack Baby
Instead of
-"Sweet Sixteen" birthday party invitations
we need
-"Sweet Sixteen" 10 Kegger While the Parental Units are in the Bahamas invitations
Instead of
-Baby Shower cards
we need
-Unplanned Baby Shower cards
Instead of
-Wedding invitations
we need
-Shotgun Wedding invitations
Instead of
-Mother's Day cards
we need
-My Baby Mama Day cards
Instead of
-Father's Day cards
we need
-My Baby Daddy Day cards
Instead of
-Generic "Happy Holidays" cards
we need
-I hate the F#&*ing Holidays cards
Instead of
-Ridiculous "Happy Hanukkah/Christmas/Kwanzaa/Chinese New Year/New Years Eve/Some vague Catholic Saint that no one has ever heard of day cards
we need
-Let's All Go Act Like Douche bags for Two Weeks at the End of Every Year for World Peace cards
Instead of
-Valentine's Day cards
we need
-I Bought You This Card Because You Would Think I'm a Dick if I Didn't Day Cards.
Instead of
-Happy Sweetest Day cards
we need
-Happy Increase the Profit Margin for Hallmark by Creating Another Stupid Holiday Card.
Next entry- card sentiments that we really need rather than that soppy Hallmark poetry crap that no one had the patience to read.
-For the Happy Couple
try
-For the Unhappy Couple
Instead of
-New Baby
we need
-New Crack Baby
Instead of
-"Sweet Sixteen" birthday party invitations
we need
-"Sweet Sixteen" 10 Kegger While the Parental Units are in the Bahamas invitations
Instead of
-Baby Shower cards
we need
-Unplanned Baby Shower cards
Instead of
-Wedding invitations
we need
-Shotgun Wedding invitations
Instead of
-Mother's Day cards
we need
-My Baby Mama Day cards
Instead of
-Father's Day cards
we need
-My Baby Daddy Day cards
Instead of
-Generic "Happy Holidays" cards
we need
-I hate the F#&*ing Holidays cards
Instead of
-Ridiculous "Happy Hanukkah/Christmas/Kwanzaa/Chinese New Year/New Years Eve/Some vague Catholic Saint that no one has ever heard of day cards
we need
-Let's All Go Act Like Douche bags for Two Weeks at the End of Every Year for World Peace cards
Instead of
-Valentine's Day cards
we need
-I Bought You This Card Because You Would Think I'm a Dick if I Didn't Day Cards.
Instead of
-Happy Sweetest Day cards
we need
-Happy Increase the Profit Margin for Hallmark by Creating Another Stupid Holiday Card.
Next entry- card sentiments that we really need rather than that soppy Hallmark poetry crap that no one had the patience to read.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
A Child's Love
In our busy days we sometimes forget the innocence of children. My son knows that I am a doctor and I have tried to explain what a psychiatrist is, but it is certainly hard to explain what depression or psychosis is to a four year old who has not experienced it first hand. He has been up to the staff lounge where I work briefly, but because of confidentiality reasons, not to mention safety, he has never been on the actual unit proper. He has no idea what an inpatient psychiatric unit looks like. All he knows is on weekdays, Mommy goes to the "hosipal" to help sick people who are sad. He also knows there is a helicopter outside Mommy's window and that is pretty cool.
Fortunately, with the exception of the month he spent in the NICU after he was born, he has never been admitted to a hospital. He has visited some very nice ER's though, where he gets stickers and people tell him he is cute and a very brave boy and he gets to lay or sit on a special bed with bars with Mommy or Daddy. Once, he even got "a big pill up my butt", a fact that, rest assured, he will tell you about. In all three of those visits, he was sent home with more stickers and people telling him he was a brave boy. It never occurred to me that he did not realize that people stay in the hospital as inpatients.
I discovered that earlier last week, the last time I had to take call. I took a call from the ER about a potential admission. Business has been good and we have been running full. "Do we even have a bed?" I asked. Once that was clarified, I accepted the admission. My son overheard the conversation and his response was not what I expected. He gave me a quizzical look and asked "We have a bed upstairs?" Of course we do not. Our house is a ranch house without an attic and I could understand his confusion as he does not always separate telephone conversations from the one in the room. I explained that I meant, do we have a bed on the psychiatric unit where I work, which is upstairs from the ER. He still seemed surprised by this and had to tell my husband. "Daddy, they have a bed upstairs at the hosipal!" followed by the question as to why we kept beds in the hospital. I explained that these were for the patients to sleep in when they stayed there. "They stay there at the hosipal?" I did not realize that he did not know that patients stayed at the hospital. His only experience with hospitals that he would remember are the ones above. He had never been exposed to a situation where he had to experience someone as an inpatient. This idea was all new to him. I got a good laugh about this and went to work with a new "my son said something this morning that was so cute" story and went about my day.
I thought maybe I should show him some pictures of his month long ordeal in the NICU when he was first born. He had been told he was a "preemie" and spent a month in the hospital before but never paid much attention before. I asked him if he recalled being told about being in the hospital for a month after he was born which he really did not have much memory of. This time was interested to see the pictures. I showed him pictures of the warmer he stayed in at first, then the small crib where he was kept tightly swaddled to help with muscle development in a premature baby. He saw all the tubes, heart monitor leads, oxygen monitors. I told him that we came by three times a day to feed him and that the nurses fed him with a tube the other times. I showed him the feeding tube. That's when his response really moved me.
We probably felt worse leaving our son than he did being left behind. Preemies in general cry when they are disturbed too much. They have important things to do, like grow, so they do not mind being left alone. The mind of a four year old is different. When I told him that we came three times a day to visit then went home, he started crying and said that he missed us when we left. It was very touching. I reassured him that babies that little do not have that kind of awareness but he insisted "but I really loved you guys and I didn't want you to leave." Of course at his age, it is hard for him to process having feelings any different than the ones he has right now, but I also know from his response how much my husband and I are loved by our son. That means a great deal to me.
Money can buy you things that might make you happy at times, but a child's love must be earned and will bring more than happiness. It will give you a reason to get up in the morning every day.
Fortunately, with the exception of the month he spent in the NICU after he was born, he has never been admitted to a hospital. He has visited some very nice ER's though, where he gets stickers and people tell him he is cute and a very brave boy and he gets to lay or sit on a special bed with bars with Mommy or Daddy. Once, he even got "a big pill up my butt", a fact that, rest assured, he will tell you about. In all three of those visits, he was sent home with more stickers and people telling him he was a brave boy. It never occurred to me that he did not realize that people stay in the hospital as inpatients.
I discovered that earlier last week, the last time I had to take call. I took a call from the ER about a potential admission. Business has been good and we have been running full. "Do we even have a bed?" I asked. Once that was clarified, I accepted the admission. My son overheard the conversation and his response was not what I expected. He gave me a quizzical look and asked "We have a bed upstairs?" Of course we do not. Our house is a ranch house without an attic and I could understand his confusion as he does not always separate telephone conversations from the one in the room. I explained that I meant, do we have a bed on the psychiatric unit where I work, which is upstairs from the ER. He still seemed surprised by this and had to tell my husband. "Daddy, they have a bed upstairs at the hosipal!" followed by the question as to why we kept beds in the hospital. I explained that these were for the patients to sleep in when they stayed there. "They stay there at the hosipal?" I did not realize that he did not know that patients stayed at the hospital. His only experience with hospitals that he would remember are the ones above. He had never been exposed to a situation where he had to experience someone as an inpatient. This idea was all new to him. I got a good laugh about this and went to work with a new "my son said something this morning that was so cute" story and went about my day.
I thought maybe I should show him some pictures of his month long ordeal in the NICU when he was first born. He had been told he was a "preemie" and spent a month in the hospital before but never paid much attention before. I asked him if he recalled being told about being in the hospital for a month after he was born which he really did not have much memory of. This time was interested to see the pictures. I showed him pictures of the warmer he stayed in at first, then the small crib where he was kept tightly swaddled to help with muscle development in a premature baby. He saw all the tubes, heart monitor leads, oxygen monitors. I told him that we came by three times a day to feed him and that the nurses fed him with a tube the other times. I showed him the feeding tube. That's when his response really moved me.
We probably felt worse leaving our son than he did being left behind. Preemies in general cry when they are disturbed too much. They have important things to do, like grow, so they do not mind being left alone. The mind of a four year old is different. When I told him that we came three times a day to visit then went home, he started crying and said that he missed us when we left. It was very touching. I reassured him that babies that little do not have that kind of awareness but he insisted "but I really loved you guys and I didn't want you to leave." Of course at his age, it is hard for him to process having feelings any different than the ones he has right now, but I also know from his response how much my husband and I are loved by our son. That means a great deal to me.
Money can buy you things that might make you happy at times, but a child's love must be earned and will bring more than happiness. It will give you a reason to get up in the morning every day.
Monday, November 1, 2010
Why I Changed My Name
Artistic license only goes so far in medicine and I have run into a road block in that arena. The dilemma I have run into is that the powers that be have concerns about the content of my blog possibly compromising patient confidentiality and have put limitations on what I may write in the blog. While I understand their side, it does put fairly strong limits on what I am able to write about. I am fearful of writing anything that could offend them. The end result is the vast majority of things that I write about do not have anything to do with psychiatry at all. That or if there is any psychiatric content, it comes out more like a textbook than anything of much interest.
I felt that considering this situation, it would be best that I change the name of the blog to one that is more suited to what I am really writing about. This will allow me to write my posts without the pressure of trying to find a completely neutral topic in psychiatry but end up with one that is not very interesting. There is plenty of things to talk about in my life here. I am, after a big city girl who is essentially stranded in a small to medium size town in the middle of nowhere with very limited access to Nordstrom, true fine dining and cultural activities. What they do have is hunters with guns. There are also monster trucks with deer head decals on the back windows and rubber testicles hanging from the trailer hitches. There are critters here that we do not encounter in Ohio, like bears and bobcats, some of which tear down birdfeeders and poop all over our lawns during the Spring and the Fall and the people here just accept that as the way it is. There is also another fine selection of critters to dodge on the roadways, not the least of which is skunks. I could go on and on about the differences of the area in which I reside and the area in which I grew up but suffice to say that there are a lot of things to talk about. Which is why I have chosen to change the focus of the blog. Therefore I give you...
I felt that considering this situation, it would be best that I change the name of the blog to one that is more suited to what I am really writing about. This will allow me to write my posts without the pressure of trying to find a completely neutral topic in psychiatry but end up with one that is not very interesting. There is plenty of things to talk about in my life here. I am, after a big city girl who is essentially stranded in a small to medium size town in the middle of nowhere with very limited access to Nordstrom, true fine dining and cultural activities. What they do have is hunters with guns. There are also monster trucks with deer head decals on the back windows and rubber testicles hanging from the trailer hitches. There are critters here that we do not encounter in Ohio, like bears and bobcats, some of which tear down birdfeeders and poop all over our lawns during the Spring and the Fall and the people here just accept that as the way it is. There is also another fine selection of critters to dodge on the roadways, not the least of which is skunks. I could go on and on about the differences of the area in which I reside and the area in which I grew up but suffice to say that there are a lot of things to talk about. Which is why I have chosen to change the focus of the blog. Therefore I give you...
Lost in Central Pennsylvania
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