First Signs

Monday, September 14, 2009

Fall comes slowly here. It has been creeping up on me for weeks now. The hint of yellow between the green. The droop of flowers. The tinge of red along the river.



Fall in Utah was so different. First the trees would change, nearly overnight, on the mountain sides. The frost and snow would come soon after. Suddenly the color and crispness of fall would be gone, sidewalks covered in the crunch of brown leaves, trees bare against the sky. And I always felt like I missed it.

Here, it has a slow gradual pace, as if autumn is enjoying itself. Flowers change from purple and blue variety to a yellow and red. Trees take their time, trying to be inconspicuous about the small piles of leaves forming underneath them.



Fall has not yet descended in all her glory. But every day I see more of her.

Game Day

Friday, September 4, 2009

I must interrupt my regular programming for a very important update.

I've already mentioned my sadness about the passing of summer. Even now, looking out my office window, the flowers across the street are looking slightly wilted and there are now, not just yellow leaves, but red leaves too in the trees around the school yard.

Someone else out there must have felt the same pain that summer was over. Because they did the very best they could to ease the transition between warm, carefree summer days and the nip and chill of autumn.

They invented college football.

Last night, watching Boise State beat up on Oregon while checking the progress of the Utes game on the computer (Oh, the sadness of leaving our beloved Mountain West conference and living in the land of the Big Ten) I once again realized how much I love football.

Image "borrowed" from ESPN

I'll be honest here. Before I met Hubster, I didn't know a pick from a fumble, a tight end from a running back, a play action pass from the option. But then, just as I introduced Hubster to the wonderful world of Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings, he introduced me to the beauty of college football.

I've tried watching the NFL. While I will admit that I do love the occasional Monday Night game, and that I enjoy a good Super Bowl party as much as anyone, I just never was able to get that into. The NFL is more about super egos, trades, and politics.

College football, on the other hand, is all about the love of the game. Most the boys playing college football will not go on to play professionally. While most of them do get some compensation for their playing in the form of scholarships, it still requires a lot of them. We joke about paid test takers and easy majors, but the truth is that sports gives college opportunities to many who wouldn't have any otherwise. These kids play with their hearts. And you see it with every ecstatic cheer after a win and every look of heartbreak after a loss.

I'm going to miss my Utes something fierce. After two perfect seasons and two BCS appearances I have high expectations and higher loyalty. Because of a poorly thoughtout decision to have a conference TV channel, I will not be able to watch very many Ute football games here in Iowa.


But Iowa is doing its best to ease our pain. College football, depending on who you talk too, comes just after, or just before, God and church out here. During game day, the local university stadium becomes the fifth largest city in Iowa. We hope to make it to a game this year.

Because it doesn't matter if it is your alma mater or not. It doesn't matter if you cheer for the home team or not. It doesn't (always) matter whether you win or lose.

What matters is the game.

Corn Country

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

They grow good corn here in Iowa.

At least that's what we've heard.

And if quantity is any sign of quality, it must be true. Because corn fields flank nearly every road and make up much of the scenery.

We decided to try the local corn out. Because honestly, Wal-mart corn just wasn't cutting it.

We made our way to the local farmer's market. I wish that I had brought my camera. The tables of heirloom tomatoes, and new baby squash, and jars overflowing with fresh cut bundles of herbs, and the backs of trucks filled to the rim with corn was beautiful.

We bought our dozen corn and went home and peeled it on the back porch, enjoying the evening.



Turns out, they're right.


The corn here is mighty good.

Settling In

Monday, July 20, 2009

It's been over a week since my last post. The last time something like that happened was when I had no access to the internet and moved across the country.

This time, I don't have the excuse of no internet and a Big Move.

My only excuse is being flat out, beat down exhausted.

While my current residency schedule is not overly demanding, currently just 9 hour shifts 4-6 times a week, the mental fatigue is surprising. Decisions I make actually matter. So I put a lot more thought into every decision. Not that I always get it right. My attending physicians correct my treatment plan just as often as they agree with it.

But don't worry. No patients have been injured in the training of this physician.

If the mental fatigue I feel at the end of each shift isn't enough, there is a home renovation waiting for me when I get home. Between tearing out shrubbery and invading vines, laying floors, and ripping out carpet, I'm physically exhausted too.

Between the two I've barely had enough energy to read a few pages of Harry Potter each night before falling asleep. Let alone blogging.

But I realized today that I haven't shared my thoughts on my new home/town/state.

Salt Lake City is by no means a "Big" City. It's got nothing on LA, Chicago, Dallas, or New York. But it is definitely an up-and-coming city, with many of the amenities of much bigger cities: pro sports teams, aquariums, art museums, ballet, theatre. Costco. IKEA. And it is definitely a city and not a town.

My new home is technically a city. Although the hospital is the tallest building. There are no 20 level business buildings. Farmer's markets are held "down town" (down town in quotes because down town is two streets lined with cute boutiques and amazing restaurants. But no big buildings.) It may be a city, but it feels like a town. The fastest I've driven in a week is 35 mph.

I do miss some of the amenities I had grown used to in bigger Salt Lake.

But I think I like this better.

It is easy to live here.

City living can feel high maintenance. The worry about traffic, the crowds, movies being sold out, restaurants being crowded. All together it just adds a layer of stress that I almost didn't even notice. Until it was gone. The worst traffic I have been in for the month and a half I have lived here is when there were 6 (yes a whole 6!) cars in front of me at the only traffic light I go through on my way to work. 6! Versus the usual 1.

I love where we live. Our home is next door to Bug's new elementary school. The school is in front of a reserved green space. Which means no homes can be built in the heavily wooded area that lies just the other side of the school.

Our neighborhood is very quiet. The people we have met so far have lived here for 15-20 years. People move into this neighborhood and then stay put. There are not a lot of young couples with young kids. I'm a little disappointed about that. I had partially hoped for a neighborhood swarming with kids, yards cluttered with their toys, where Bug and Monkey would have easy access to potential friends. That's not how things are. We don't see many other children. But I'm sure that will change when school starts back up in a month.

And I love our neighborhood, even without herds of children.

Everyday, when I drive up this road, I feel happy about where we live.

Road leading to our neighborhood

We have fireflies here! Before we moved here I had never seen a firefly. I could go on and on about how much I love them. We often sit as a whole family on our back porch and watch them. The boys are slightly squeamish about insects and so they don't run around catching them in jars. But there is still nothing like fireflies.

Our yard is also frequented by cardinals, goldfinches, robins, rabbits, chipmunks, and squirrels. Every morning, there is some new wildlife that causes the boys to call for me, while they alternate between squealing with excitement and hushing each other to not scare it away.

We are happy here. Life is easy here. We are definitely settling in.

Just before the drop

Thursday, June 4, 2009

I love roller coasters.

I wait in line excited, watching the people riding before me envious that they have already made it through the line and onto the ride.

But every time I'm in my seat, harness clicked in place, and moving slowly, slowly up the hill, I start to get a little panicky. I know the ride will be fun, but the slow clanking ride upward makes me nervous. Right at that moment I want off.

I'm getting that feeling now.

We pick up the moving truck in the morning. We hit the road the day after. I don't think I've been this excited about something in a long time.

But tonight has the feel of the chain clanking under my feet as I reach the summit.

And I'm scared.

...

...

I tried to think of a nice tie in to this next part, but couldn't. So here it goes. This is less of a confession and more of a...confidence. I don't know. You read, and then you tell me.

I don't really have any friends.

(Okay, don't sit there reading this and say "Oh, the poor girl." Or "Great. I smell a pity party.")

It's not like I've never had any.

I had a lot of friends during high school. But as high school friends, we lost touch as we went our separate ways.

I was friends with my roommates during undergrad. But I was a science major living with three music majors and we all had such different personalities, I think we were glad to let things slip when we moved out.

Out of my group of childhood friends, I was the only one who went to college. I think that decision put a little distance between us. Not purposefully of course. A few of them talked about going to college.

There was always a lot of talk.

It was medical school that really put the nail in the coffin of many of my childhood friendships. Some of my friends were not that subtle about that fact that they were not interested in continuing our relationship.

At first I just thought it was because between raising two boys and working on my medical degree, my schedule just didn't allow for as much time together as it once had.

But after a few obvious snubs, I began to think it might be more.

I blamed myself mostly. I wasn't there enough. I wasn't trying hard enough. I just wasn't a good friend.

Hubster has always been of a different mindset. He thinks that most of my friends were intimidated by what I was doing. That suddenly all their talk couldn't hold up to my actions.

I had always dismissed this.

Until recently. I read an article that female physicians have a hard time making friends in general. Some of it is self-induced seclusion. But not all. Women have talked about negative reactions they have gotten once other women have found out that they are doctors. Soon, they just stop telling people what they do for a living. They try to avoid conversation about work so they won't be asked the question that will stop all future conversation. Many have guessed at possible reasons. The other women are intimidated by the title. Others don't think they are "worthy" (huh) of physician friends. Whatever the problem is, apparently I'm not alone in it.

Medical school was the most emotionally demanding, physically exhausting thing I have ever done (and that is including surviving two newborn phases of 1 am-3am-4am-6am feedings). However it offered a respite from the loneliness that I had felt before that time. I had the most amazing friends in medical school. People that were working towards the same goal I was. People that were coping with the same challenges. People that weren't offended if you didn't make it to a party, because well, they didn't make it either, because they were home studying for the same exam.

But medical school ended and my friends are scattered across the country. We still talk occasionally. But, obviously, it is not the same.

Blogging has helped. I get to have conversations. I've reconnected with people I hadn't talked to in years. Some have even gotten to see that I haven't turned into the emotionless controlling "stereotypical" doctor. And I've made bloggy friends.

Which I get to take with me regardless of where I live.

I've been asked if I'm sad about moving. Scared? Yes. Sad? Not really. Yes I will miss my mom only being an hour away.

But I'm not really leaving anyone else.

I think being lonely in Iowa will be about the same as being lonely in Utah.

There's No Place Like Home

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

It feels like I've been away for forever.

But I have a good reason.

Over the weekend, Hubster and I flew to Iowa. And bought a house!!

Our very first house. It's really ours! (Well, pending something disasterous on the inspection and worse case scenario with financing. But parring those two nightmares...it's ours!!)

(Oh, and prepare yourself for a lot of exclamation points. I'm extremely excited about this whole thing.)

I have lived in an apartment every since I first moved out of my parents' house the summer after I graduated high school. It's been pretty much the same for Hubster (just five years longer.)

We've raised our two boys in apartments.

While it has been convenient in terms of needing to move for various reasons, and more affordable, it obviously has had it's drawbacks.

My boys have never had a yard. They can't go outside unless I'm with them. We have to be "considerate" of those who share walls and floors and ceilings (which means no Tonka trucks in the kitchen.)

The worst part about it has just been the whole temporary feeling. Each place we've lived, we think, "Oh, we're just here for a little while." We don't feel settled.

But all of that is going to change. We have a house!

Granted, it's not a beautiful house. It needs a little "love." But everything it needs are just surface treatments: paint, new carpet, new light fixtures. Things I probably would have done anyways, regardless of the home.

Living Room

(Needs paint, but the floors are nice)

Kitchen

(Needs new floor, but the cabinets are new)

But what the house has are things you wouldn't be able to fix. Location! (Isn't that the rule of real estate?) We are next door to what is most likely the best elementary school in town. We are in a gorgeous neighborhood (I can't believe we could afford a home in that neighborhood!) We are only two miles from the university and parks. It is just wonderful!!

Oh, and it has a yard.

It's a Match!

Thursday, March 19, 2009

After all the anticipation, the hype, Match Day almost felt anti-climatic.

I was feeling remarkably calm. I even slept reasonably well. I was doing great. Clear up until I was right about to open my envelope. I was shaking. Apparently enough to get a couple of comment.

And it's over.

But actually, it's just the beginning.

Making my mark on the map

We're going to Iowa.

I know, that's actually a state. People kept saying "Ohio" or "That's in the Midwest, right?"

I'm leaving the mountains I have taken for granted for my entire life. I'm leaving my parents and siblings. I'm leaving the roads and cities and canyons that I know so well I can check out while I drive.

It's for the best. Iowa was everything we never knew we were looking for. Living in a state where winter can last up to 9 months, our thought was "warm. We need somewhere WARM." But throughout the interview process, other, real, things became so much more important. Schools, safety, housing market, future job market. Iowa has it all. Minus the ocean. And the warm.

But we're excited.

And scared.

We're going to pack up our little family and move half way across the United States. To a place only I've been (and I was only there for one day.) Hubster is leaving a great job. I'm leaving my family. We're leaving everything that is familiar and safe.

And for what? For great training. A better quality of life for our family. You know, the American dream.

So let the planning begin.