On the way to work this morning I turned the stereo up. Way up past the kid level and into decibel stratosphere. I was stressed; I’d been up past midnight working, up early with the boys this morning, and digesting some bad news in my extended family while worrying about the results of my friend’s CT. I worked a few hours at home before I got out the door to clinic. When I left home, F and O were waving in the window, O’s 17-month-old mouth gumming the glass. They were wearing matching soccer jerseys, one in red, one in blue. It chewed a little hole in my heart to leave.
My decision to flood the car with noise was probably bad for my inner ears. It was really good for the rest of my body, though. I used the music as an adjunct to my coffee. Needed to dull the senses and prepare for the 26 patients and their families that were to outline the rest of my day. Needed to draw a line.
Sometimes music is like water. Irresistible and absolutely irreplaceable.
About ¾ of the way up to my clinic (the King-Snohomish County line), I laughed out loud. Amidst the noise, I was thinking about the Parenthood episode that I watched on our DVR late last night when I gave up on working.
I like the show. It’s not a perfect portrait of parenthood for everyone, but one that makes sense in the jigsaw puzzle in which I live.
My 60 mph laugh was about similarity. I was reflecting on the end of the episode where the daughter of a lawyer gives in and admits defeat in a war of wills with her mother. She presents to her mom, her feet planted, and admits she broke a flower vase. The girl’s behavior is obstinate, strong, and righteous. She hardly apologizes. The mother and father exchange glances about her thunderous, yet understated admission. The father’s smug look defines how he knows she is modeling her feisty (lawyerly) mom. I go on to wonder what F will do that will mirror my character.
9pm tonight. I’m at the dinner table with the husband and we’re talking about our day. I mentioned a comment I’d placed on a healthcare blog about VIP health care. He agreed about how challenging he thinks it can feel. From a doctor’s point of view, I mean. The husband (a pediatric radiologist) mentioned that he had been reading a CT scan for a child being cared for at Children’s who had a family member who was a physician. He mentioned how the vibe changes when a parent-doctor is hovering and waiting for the result just around the corner and how this dynamic change shifts the time and space in which he does his work. The pace and the technique in reading the CT is altered. Some studies point out “VIP” care can be disruptive. It’s hard to know, but most doctors would certainly say it is different.
I say, “You should write a guest post about this on the blog.” He looks up, almost interested. I get excited a bit, shift in my chair, then realizing I need to pull the rein back in, I say, “I’ll edit it and help write it if you need me to.”
He says, “You mean you’ll ghost write my guest blog?”
Maybe this is why that particular episode of Parenthood made sense…