A Rookie For All Seasons

Hello, world! This is my first attempt in mass communicating my thoughts and experiences without Mae actually doing it for me :) My entries will be much shorter and probably not as entertaining--I lost all ability to communicate in complete sentences once I started writing hospital progress notes in medical school.

So, we find ourselves in Charlotte while I complete my one year fellowship in advanced laparoscopic bariatric (weight loss) surgery. This is surgery done through small incisions using long instruments we control from outside the body while watching a tv picture from a camera inside the body.

Even though I have completed 4 years of medical school, 5 years of general surgery training, and could be a practicing general surgeon at a community hospital near you, I find myself a rookie once again. The biggest challenge is learning a surgery I've never seen using a skill set
I haven't yet mastered. We did some basic laparoscopic surgery at Loyola, but nothing as regular or as advanced as the program here in Charlotte. I imagine it's like learning to ride a racing motorcycle when all you know is how to ride is a unicycle. It's been tough to finish residency feeling like I could do any surgery, only to come here and feel like an intern in the OR again, still trying to master concepts such as up, down, left, right.

Today we performed a routine, classic surgical procedure using normal surgical techniques involving a normal incision, taking out colon cancer like 80% of surgeons do it today and have been doing it for over 60 years--no advanced laparoscopy. That went very well, just like riding a unicycle again; I joked with the main surgeon I work with, "Finally, a surgery I've seen and know how to do!"

I'm making progress, painfully slow and steady progress. The learning curve for these surgeries is steep; I can't wait to be riding that motorcycle soon.

A Day in the Life of a Pooka

"No fairy is more feared in Ireland than the pooka. This may be because it is always out and about after nightfall, creating harm and mischief, and because it can assume a variety of terrifying forms." - www.irelandseye.com

Since we've moved to Charlotte and my most important job has been the monotonous unpacking of boxes, I've had the opportunity to learn more about something that has always made me curious... what do the cats do all day? I've learned that I was right about Connor Cat. He eats and sleeps, which explains why he wants me to stay awake all night. The Pooka, on the other hand, is quite busy. Here is a sampling of her activities yesterday... a day in the life of a Pooka:

1. Wake up VERY early to give Ian plenty of hugs before he goes back to work.
2. Go back to sleep.
3. Eat breakfast.
4. Sit in the shower and get wet.
5. Use the box.
6. Wonder why I smell like poo.
7. Sleep.
8. Accidentally lock self in bathroom.
9. Engage in a very fierce battle with Carpet Fuzzy.
10. Keep an eye on the Kingdom from the window.
    
11. Try to figure out what the deal is with mirrors. Is that another cat or not?
12. Accidentally lock self in bathroom again.
13. Eat lunch.
14. Pounce Big Kitty.
15. Check on the Kingdom.
    
16. Try to figure out why can’t open the door to go in the bathroom anymore.
17. Walk up the stairs on the wrong side of the railing and make Mae very glad the railing only goes up 5 stairs before jumping down from the top step.
18. Sleep.
19. Go outside on patio.
20. Go back inside after about 20 seconds.
21. Eat dinner.
22. Check on the Kingdom.
    
23. Clean Big Kitty’s head.
24. Chase toy Mouse up and down the stairs.
25. Sing in the hallway.
26. Check on the Kingdom.
    
27. Sleep.
28. Build a tunnel in the bed sheets next to Mae.
29. Get hot and leave the tunnel.
30. Sleep.

Culture Shock

Southerners talk a lot. They don't talk fast, but they do talk often. My first experience of this was actually before we even moved here. When we came to look for a place to live, Ian had to meet with one of the attendings at his new hospital. Not having anything better to do, I decided to hang out in the department waiting area and try to figure out how we could navigate a city where you can be at the corner of Queens Rd. and Queens Rd. Every person who walked by me said something... I think some of the people were talking to themselves, but I'm not sure. Some of it definitely was directed to me, like the guy who saw my map and said, "Give it up. You're going to get lost." Some people obviously were more friendly than others, but everyone said something. Eventually, I stopped pulling my purse closer to me every time someone walked up to my little area and actually responded to a few of them with more than a puzzled smile. I was taught not to talk to strangers, after all.

As with most moves, Ian and I spent our first few days in Charlotte at Target. One checker commented on our purchases (actually, all of them did in one way or another) and we told her we just moved from Chicago. She was very excited about this and told us she was from Michigan. She then went on to tell us that she's from Michigan (speaking faster and faster, moving out of the Southern pace now that she knew we'd understand her) and has lived in Charlotte for three years. She likes it, but the people take a while to get used to. They talk to you all the time... even people you don't know will just start up conversations with you. I said, "Really? That's amazing." She affirmed that this is true and said they always ask you if you go to church. "Like it's any of their business if you go to church or not. That took me a long time to get used to... people asking that all the time. By the way, do you go to church?"

And that brings up the second bit of Charlotte culture shock... the traffic. Coming from Chicago, Ian and I had high hopes for finally spending less than 80% of our lives stuck in traffic. Happily, we've found the Charlotte traffic to be very manageable (despite what the locals say) with one significant exception... Sunday. This past Sunday, we thought we would try out a church near Ian's hospital, which is just about 5 miles from where we live. (It's seems like everything in Charlotte is 5 miles away. Beautiful.) We thought that leaving 30 minutes early would give us time to get lost a few times and eventually find the place with a little time to spare. Clearly, we did not consider the church traffic. From our place, we passed Providence United Methodist Church, St. Gabriel's Catholic Church (went there the first week), Trinity Presbyterian Church, Christ Episcopal Church, Myers Park Presbyterian Church, Myers Park Methodist Church... before we'd even gotten halfway there. Not only are there a crazy huge number of churches here, but there are a crazy huge number of people who go to them. Each church has at least one, often two, traffic cops waiting at the parking lots to let people in and out. We barely made it to our own church on time and, feeling sure that our road was just a religious fluke, decided to take a different way back. We came across at least as many churches that way... Many tucked away in the trees that we've never noticed before... and still wouldn't have noticed if not for the cars and the traffic cops. If this is the worst of the traffic in the city, I'll gladly take it!

Hello, Blogosphere

Last year, some friends of ours moved to Vermont, far from their family and friends in the Upper Midwest. They started a blog to help keep in touch with everyone. Although I was skeptical at first (sorry guys!), it actually has been a really nice way to know what's going on in their lives, even when we don't have time to catch up over the phone or email. Anyway, I thought I'd give it a try... especially now that I'm currently unemployed and am finding a limit to how many hours a day I can spend unpacking.

Ian and I have now been in Charlotte for just over a week and things are starting to settle in. Our trip out here was remarkably uneventful. This certainly was the easiest move we've done. We had a 2-day caravan with Ian driving the plants and me driving the cats. We had about a day and a half here before the movers arrived with all of our stuff, so that helped make a long day (especially for the movers) go a little better.

We're renting a townhouse for this year and we're very excited about it. Strawberry Hill is an enormous complex... we're across from the tennis courts and just a couple blocks away from the pool, but our building feels very tucked away. We feel quite grown-up now that we have an upstairs area in our home. We're also glad for the stairs because they're a central part of Connor Cat's new weight loss program. Hopefully with the stairs, eating less and playing more, our kitty will get back down to his former svelte, 17-pound self. :)

We're very pleased to have returned to the land of sweet tea and we've been taking full advantage of that fact. Over the weekend, Ian had his first Waffle House experience. Greasy fabulousness, as always. Last Friday, we went out with part of the bariatric team at CMC. Along with meeting some of Ian's very lively new co-workers, we were introduced to another Southern delicacy... fried pickles. With all the Southern roots in my family, I've considered myself relatively familiar with Southern food, but I've never heard of fried pickles before. Apparently there's a restaurant in Charlotte that specializes in them. They're surprisingly good, but how can you go wrong with deep-fried food? Especially when served with ranch dressing.

The outing was really a farewell dinner for the outgoing fellow, but it was also a nice opportunity for me to meet the doctors Ian will be working with and for him to meet some of the ancillary staff. I also had a nice chance to get a lot of information (and maps) from the wife of the outgoing fellow. She confirmed some of my fears (no Ikea or Trader Joe's here) and reassured me that I should see my husband every now and then. Ian's skeptical about that, but we'll see. He'll definitely be working hard this year. We always tell ourselves that we end up in places for a reason... it's particularly easy to believe that given the magic of the match system. Hopefully we'll find that to be true again.