Does this photo look familiar? We moved again today. Yup, we moved homes just 10 months ago. Crazy or stupid, you decide.
I’m just home from a late night in clinic. The boys are in their new spaces while the boxes tower amidst the palpable tired. But the night still swells with possibility. I can see the stars from the back yard. And the bare walls blended with the smell of cardboard boxes, makes me feel like I just turned the page in a new hard-covered book. Moving, albeit chaotic and uniquely stressful, can feel like hope. Optimism prevails tonight.
But I’m still thinking of the last time around.
Here’s my moving day post from last year. Read about our terrible misfortune and improper planning. Learn from our mistakes. Especially if you’re about to do a moving-double-take, too.
My story of 9 stitches, 2 parents who feel as deflated, flat and small as the bottom of your worn shoe, a near 3-year-old boy, and 1 orange Popsicle. This is about our mistakes and the dangers of the events that followed moving day in my world, October 31, 2009.
But let’s go back in time; history is supposed to be one of our most sage instructors.
Circa 2003. I took care of a 3-year-old girl in the ER when I was an intern (my first year as a physician, while training in pediatrics) after medical school. In medical training, there are certain patients that stick out, jump off the exam-room-pages, of the hundreds of patients you can see in a month’s time. I know some will stay with me forever. Read full post »