Stress

So yeah, it is 4 AM and I am awake. I cannot sleep. The dog woke me up by barking a ton and throwing up. After taking care of that, I still could not sleep. Too many things on my mind.

Work has been wicked stressful since I got back from our vacation. I think it was stressful before the vacation but I had not relaxed for so long, I did not know just how stressful it had become. I recently had to gather together all the things I have done at work for our clinical advancement program. When I typed up all the committees I have been on, the special projects I have worked on, the research I do, my different actions as a leader, etc., I saw there was a huge discrepancy between how my boss treats me and what the paper said. I had so many more points than needed to maintain my clinical leader status (highest level of the clinical ladder). So my questions since vacation has been "why do I feel like I am on the verge of fucking up when I actually am far from a fuck up?" And the answer is within management. I wish I could say more but fear retribution if found out. However, the other thing I have learned of recent is how much I am respected by other managers and upper management. When I hear that the head of the medical branch of the hospital, a world renowned researcher in burn care, respects my work and research, I about cried on the spot. Medical facilities are so very based on hierarchy and I am very low on that hierarchy. To be noticed by the chief medical officer is pretty good. So, I have decided to not feel like I am a fuck up but to look at the macro view of me and the hospital. However this shift, although less stressful for me in the long range, is very stressful in the short range. Shifting perspectives like this is taking me time to adjust to. Hence, I am up at fucking 3:30 AM.

There is plenty more stress at work though that adds to this inability to fall back asleep. Abstracts for the American Burn Association are due on the 21st and I need to have my data analyzed so I can submit. I do not know squat about stats and have to rely upon other staff. They are always quite happy to help but I feel bad that I cannot do this all by myself. I know, no man (or woman) is an island. But I have built my career, including my research, by myself, except for the stats part. I have not had the luck to get a leg up from anyone.

Until now. There is a resident at a hospital next door that wants to continue his research on the effects of music on hypermetabolic state at my hospital. I was asked to help him out. We met yesterday, the resident, the assistant chief of staff, the research nurse, and I to discuss his research plans. My bottom line to help out was to be an author and the resident agreed. I was not too sure because much of the meeting was conducted between the doctors and I felt like I was not even there. I was wicked stressed for that meeting but it worked out.

I have had so many meetings of late that I have not been able to devote adequate time to my clinical load. I see some kids 1 to 2 times a week instead of every day I am there. This is bothering me greatly.

Oh, a few years ago, I received a grant award that is funding one of my research projects. It was to be completed in one year but has not been completed yet. There are a myriad of reasons including red tape, subject evaporation (when your study finally gets approved and all potential subjects disappear even though the hospital was filled with them the week before), clinical load not allowing me time to do the research sessions, procedures starting without me there to conduct the research, etc. But it is poking along. I have 8 more subjects to do to complete it.

Well, the 10th anniversary of the grant award is coming up and at this conference in Nov., I have been asked to present on my research (my incomplete research). Great. So, I said yes and hoped it would be completed. Well, the due date for the PowerPoint slides is MONDAY and I have not started yet. Luckily, it is a 10 minute presentation but FUCK, what am I going to say? And my hospital wants us to use their new template with the new branding design for all talks but I cannot figure out how to use their template. It is too much in the graphic designer stage and not a simple template that has all the colors and shapes they want that I can just enter my text. Crap. Now I have to see if the graphic design guy at work can help me out TODAY and I still do not have any fucking clue what I am going to say in the presentation.

And it is day surgery day so I am in pre-op all morning without a second to work on any of this other stuff. Or see my regular patients.

And the dog is sick.

And I have not had more than 5 hours of sleep any night this week.

And Sarah Palin. Or however she spells her name.

And friends are in distress.

And I have a HUGE to do list for the house.

And I have hardly seen my wife or daughter this week.

I am gonna buy the BIG coffee today cause I am going to need it.

Hospital Q

A few things have happened at work over the past few months that have been uncomfortable for me as a queer person. One that is more recent and has stuck with me for a while was when a coworker wanted to play for me the two gay songs from the musical "Avenue Q." She thought I would find them funny; I did not. Alright, the songs were mildly amusing but the fact she thought I would like them because I am gay did not thrill me at all. As I sat there listening to songs who's main theme was the fear of coming out, I watched her chortle until she was nearly in tears. I was not amused at all at this point. When the songs ended, I said I had to go see a patient or something and left. I did not tell her my feelings about the songs for a) everyone in my dept. is thrilled about "Avenue Q" currently, b) I don't want to come off as the angry militant dyke, and c) I wanted to think about my reaction.



I talked with Clementine that evening about it. She understood where i was coming from and said she would feel about the same too. She said she thought I was upset because it is a musical for younger people and I am too old for it. I heard what she was saying and agreed to a point. But i thought it was something more.

I was upset that my coworker, who probably has never had to live in the closet, fearful to be her true self because of family, church, societal rejection, loosing a job, loosing housing, violence, self-fear/loathing, etc., was getting her jollies listening to a song about having a beard (made up or fake girlfriend for a gay man). I have been in the position to fear coming out of the closet, fearful of society, loosing my internship, loosing friends, loosing housing, scorn, and violence. I have been there when the pressures to be your honest true self are warring with the pressures to hide and you feel like one will cause you to explode while the other will crush you. That was years ago but I remember it well. More recently, despite living very out and open, every day there are options and choices to make of do i come out to this person or not, do I say something to the librarian, the plumber, the patient's mother, the waitress, etc. How dare she laugh at this, this woman who has no idea, no hint of understanding of what it is to be under these pressures. How dare she laugh and share it with me, expecting me to find it funny because I am gay?

It could be the thing where when you are a minority, it is OK to poke fun at yourself and the group to which you belong but if you are part of the majority, it is not cool to poke fun at a minority group. Some language and jokes can be off-limits for members of the majority. Like Clementine can call me a dyke but if my straight coworkers cannot. If Clementine had played the song for me, I may have had a totally different experience and laughed my ass off, but that is because she knows. My coworker, from what I can tell, does not know. Not at all.

It seems to be a culture at the hospital to share anti-queer comments with me too, as they look to me to support their f'd up viewpoints. Comments have been made to me about a transgender kid who comes in periodically to the hospital. Many of us have known this kid since early school age and now the kid is a teen. We have known him as a boy who loved Barbie. Now she appears to be living as a woman. And my coworkers think it is OK to come to me with comments about her appearance and what she chooses to wear. They think I will understand and sympathize with their discomfort. I try to educate but it falls on deaf ears and the more I try the worse it gets.

I reached the end of my rope about it and emailed management that I have heard these comments. I pointed out how it creates a unsafe environment for the queer and transgender kids at the hospital. They listened and are working to provide education to the staff about GLBTQ issues. They even asked my input on possible speakers. Good, huh?

Well, I guess it is time for this because the head of the nurse education staff told me that she had to Google LGBTQ to find out what it stood for. She thought it was funny she did not know.

Hello Again

Hey there bloggy friends.


Sorry I have been absent. I have been quite busy through the day at work and then when I am home, I really only want to focus on Hester and Clementine. But I have missed blogging. I do read your blogs a few times a week. However, I have moved to lurker status by not commenting.

So I wanted to tell you a crazy thing that just happened. I was telling Clementine about this annoying OT at work. She was lying in bed and I was standing at the doorway with my hand on the bathroom doorway. All of a sudden, I felt this strong tap tap on my fingers. Frightened, I pulled my hand away and turned in horror, thinking someone was hiding in our bathroom, tapping my hand. I looked in, only to see little miss Josephine. Clementine laughed so hard, she nearly wet herself.

My daily life with Hester and Clementine has been wonderful as always. We have been taking small and large trips here and there with her. Every day with her is a gift. As is every day with Clementine. My life is so very blessed by both of them.

Here we are at a farm.

Here we are at a museum.

Here we are at a family reunion.

Here we are at the zoo.

Work has been good and hard. It is good to be more focused there. I feel like I am really there, present, and making a difference in some kids lives. There is the usual personality differences like the annoying OT from earlier but it is all manageable. I still struggle to find my professional identity post-baby. Before Hester, I had a razor sharp focus at work. Work was my life. Home was very important but I really worked hard to get to where I was for my career. I wrote articles, wrote research proposals, wrote grant proposals at home in my spare time. The moment I saw Hester's head, my life and focus changed to family. Work is still very important and the work I do is very compelling. I love it. But I love my family more. Who am I now as a music therapist that work, my clients, my career, music therapy is not my life? I am not sure. I just keep putting one foot in front of the other and expect one day I will wake up one morning and know.

Work has been hard too. There was a girl from Latin America who when I last sang to her, I knew that day it was the last time that I would ever see her. That evening, she was transferred to the PICU at another hospital where she passed away. It is amazing that a little girl who never woke up reached out and touched my heart. Her passing is a sadness that stays with me as I see her sister and grandmother daily. Her death was pointless and an outcome of violence from a family member. This is one of the hardest part of my job, knowing the evil that lurks within the heart of human beings.

At the same time, I have seen how simple kindnesses from me have touched deeply the hearts of two other patients. A sympathetic ear, a kind smile, singing a favorite song, holding some one's hand when they are scared, rubbing some one's back as they cry, these things do more than we ever know. It is an honor to be with these children as they recover and rebuild their lives.

A fun story of professional activities to follow all that is needed. So I belong to the MT listserv, which is so incredibly annoying and asinine at times. Some people say things that make me wonder what they studied in school, how they ever got a therapy job, and fear for the future of my profession. One of those times came recently. I was so flabbergasted by what someone was saying that I had to confront it directly. Just so you know, I did not swear, say wicked, or threaten violence. I used I statements and not even my favorite one "I feel you are a jerk." I was polite, saying perhaps we had different ways of practicing. But I effectively shut her up from saying any more untherapeutic things. I also appeared to stopped all threads on the listserv for a few days, except for various job postings. It was excellent!

I fit in shorts I did not fit into at the beginning of the summer. I also went down one scrub size.

My hair is finally cut and I do not look like a muffin.

Mitt Romney is a jerk, comparing serving in the military in Iraq or Afghanistan to working on his campaign. Please God, do not let him be elected president!

Also, Carl Rove is leaving! Oh happy day!! Bush is truly a lame duck now. Kick him while he is down, Nancy Pelosi!!

Oh, when passing out packets of sunscreen at a local outdoor concert as an awareness campaign for the hospital, the park rangers came to us and told us we could not pass out that at a family event. We were dumbfounded. Sunscreen is not family friendly??? But then we noted the size of the packets were the same as that of condoms. We laughed and told the rangers what it was and that we were from a children's hospital.

It is late and I gotta work tomorrow. thanks for coming by to check on me. I will try to post regularly. If you don't hear from me, I am probably busy but lurking around your blog.

Bad Week

This week is rough, filled with lots of feeling bad. After five action packed days with my in-laws, I returned to work. Tuesday is one of my 12 hour work days where I am gone from the house for 16 hours. In the late afternoon, as I was returning to the hospital after a coffee run, I got a call from Clementine that Hester was running a low fever. I felt so bad that I was enjoying a coffee from Starbucks while my baby is sick and Clementine is taking care of her and all the other children in her child care. I felt that my place was not work but to be home with our child, making her feel better. That night, when I got home, Hester and Clementine were already in bed. It is common for me not to even see our daughter awake on my long days.

Wednesday morning, I saw Hester for her 4 AM feeding and then got ready to go to work again. That evening, we were to have haircuts. After work, I had a bit of time between work and the appointment so I went to Porter Square to buy some yarn for projects for pregnant coworkers. I was having such a nice relaxing time looking at yarn, listening to my Zen on the T, and walking around the city. I called Clementine to get an ETA on her arrival and heard Hester’s loud cry and Clementine’s harried voice. A nightmare of screaming and puking was taking place on the MassPike. For a summary of that nightmare, read here. I felt so bad and guilty that I was having such a nice relaxing time and they were having an awful time. I went to the Starbucks near our hairdresser and awaited Clementine and Hester’s arrival. I felt like I should be in the car, caring for Hester, helping Clementine out but instead I was sitting there, drinking tea, and knitting. After our haircuts, Hester cried and puked for much of the trip home. I tried as hard as I could to soothe her, singing, holding her hand, stroking her head, and talking to her but nothing worked. She finally fell asleep. I felt like the most horrible mother in the world for wanting to get a hair cut when it clearly was too much for my baby, putting my vanity in front of my child’s needs. At the same time, I felt so frustrated that I cannot even get a simple good haircut since becoming a mother. It was horrible.

Hester slept though the night but woke up before I left for work Thursday. I left for work with Clementine crying, frustrated that Hester ate only 1 ounce of formula and then proceeded to play with her toes, refusing to eat more. Through the day, I tried to call a bunch to offer Clementine what support I could from afar. She told me how Hester was still not eating much and that the other kids were having a difficult time getting along. She sounded so harried and upset. Meanwhile, I am in the air conditioned hospital away from all that drama, having a pretty mellow day. I was dying to get home and see my child awake and happy. I wanted to listen to my wife in person and give her the support she needs. But the train was messed up and delivered us an hour late home. By then, Hester was asleep for the night and I was overwrought with guilt and feelings of being a bad mother for never being home with my child when she needed me or home with my wife when she needed me. I ended up crying and dumping all this plus family crap and work crap all over Clementine. So much for being supportive.

At 2 AM, Hester woke up for a bottle. I got up even though Clementine had offered to do my night after my crying fit. I do savor the moments with Hester. She smiled her big gummy grin as I changed her diaper. I loved feeling the weight of her in my arms as I fed her the bottle. I put her down and went to bed again, got up at 5 and went to work for another long day. When I get home tonight, Hester, and maybe Clementine, will be asleep. I miss my daughter and my wife. I wish I could do a better job at balancing all this and being a good mother.

Questions Answered

A while ago, Abigail asked "Do you still enjoy work? Or is it just something to get through so you can be with your loved ones again?"

I have been thinking a lot about how parenthood has affected me at work. There are so many shifts, some subtle and some not so subtle. I have taken some time to sort through it all. I don't have a definitive answer but I will do my best.

Do I still enjoy work? Yes, I do. I have always LOVED my job. That hospital is the BOMB! Most of my coworkers are friendly and kind. The work is compelling. The patients and their families are really wonderful people. The opportunities for and support of music therapy research is there. I have an internship program up and running. The priorities toward providing the children with the best possible health care with no expense spared makes the place amazing. So, I still love my work.

I do find that my energy level at work has changed. My focus is not quite as intense as it was before January. I work hard but not as hard as I used to. Emotional situations are harder for me to be open to. When a parent cried the other day as her child fell asleep in the OR, I opened myself to empathizing by imagining Hester in the woman's child's place. I was immediately flooded with so much sadness and worry. I had to shut down my thoughts of Hester in order to continue to support the parent as we left the OR.

I find it is harder to be present with patients during painful procedures. I need to compartmentalize my home life far from my work life. This is a skill I already had but am employing it even more now. However, I feel like I am too closed off to really connect to my patients like I was before Hester's birth. I am not sure if it is that I am protecting myself or that I am so tired that I don't have the energy to be fully present during intense painful experiences. It is not that I am doing horribly at work. The shift is minor and I don't think my coworkers even notice. But I see it. I am not sure if these changes are permanent or just for now.

Is work something I just do to get through the day until I can go home to my loved ones? Kind of. Before Hester, MT was my life and my job and career were tightly married. Since Hester, I am still dedicated to my career. I just have new priorities that supersede MT. And I don't mind it at all. I am still very dedicated to continuing to do research, to find better ways to treat my clients, to serve on the regional and national levels, and my practice. But little Hester and my family (Clementine and Hester and I) are more important. I no longer see my job and career as one in the same. My job right now is a ways to attain my career goals but not the end all be all. I can see myself working else where in a few years. Maybe a small community hospital, maybe a private practice focusing on pain and wellness, maybe even working at a fancy spa. Who knows? But I do not have to keep at my current job until retirement anymore. I am willing to make sacrifices of the fabulousness of my current hospital for more time with my family.

Did that answer your questions?

Finally, a moment to blog

Things have been so busy lately. Having a little baby at home really limits how much I am able to do in my time home. Especially since I jump at any chance to take care of her since I am away from her so much when I am working.

So the first week at work was good but it got much worse after that. During my second week at work, the census at work was down and there was more time to think about home than usual. I ached in my heart to be away from Hester. I counted the moments to the end of my shift. I stared at pictures of Hester. I tried not to cry. Since that week, each week seems a little bit better. But even now, as I think about being at work all day and into the night tomorrow, I feel the tears rise.

Work is picking up and some new children have arrived that look to be interesting and challenging to work with. That is good for I will have less time to think about where I wish I was.

It is all Okey Dokey

Except I don't have much free time to blog, knit, or answer emails.

So being back to work has been OK, good even. I am actually happy to be at work but still so very happy to be a parent. I do love my job and the time away and the changes in me since Hester was born have made me really get back to what I love about it. I am recharged and focused while I am there. I have a different perspective that I am not sure I can quite sum up yet. It helps so much that work is such a nice community of people who all know each other's business. Everyone asks about Hester and asks me how I am doing being back. I get the usual question about how much she is sleeping. It is really nice to work with such a nice group of people. Also, the patients are so very compelling and amazing. I really enjoy working with them and seeing them grow, heal, and smile.

I think one thing working in my benefit as I have resumed working is that I am excellent at compartmentalizing my life. So when I am at work, I am there and not much else exists. When I am home, I am there and work does not exist. I am very appreciative of this skill now.

We have come up with a pretty good feeding schedule, well, schedule of who will do what night feeding. I do the ones the nights that I am at work that way Clementine can sleep and do the early morning one if Hester happens to wake then. I am happy doing it too. I treasure the quiet night feeding, holding Hester, and rocking her to sleep. I don't talk with her much for I am trying to reinforce that night is not a time to wake up and play. So we listen to some music and just look at each other while she eats. These times have become very special to me. Throughout the day today, when I had a moment free, I could feel Hester in my arms from the night before, the weight of her, the warmth of her and her soft blanket, the smell of her, and the sound of her soft coos. These thoughts bring such peace and joy to me.

As the end of my shift rolls around, I feel myself getting excited to come home and be with my family. There is a lightness that has settled into my heart since my little family grew to three. My focus has shifted to more domestic than ever before. This shift feels good to me.

I know that I am more likely to grow weary of my commute and want to find a job near home sooner now that Hester is here. I am OK with that too. So, while I am at work, I am really focused on getting the projects I wanted to accomplish finished and really enjoying the time I am there. I am not going to go anytime soon but within the next five years, I can see myself moving on.

So that is where I am. Hester is waking so I better go. Thanks for checking in on me.

Already?

It is my first day back to work. Wish me luck!

Hats

I am juggling three hats these next few days. I am not sure how it will turn out. I hope I can just keep everything in the air and if I must, shed tears alone or with Clementine.

The first hat is that of motherhood. I have not blogged much in the past few weeks because 1) I am busy caring for Hester, and 2) I am awash with a multitude of feelings. I feel joy to be witnessing this little life. I feel lost as I struggle to find out who I am as a mother. I feel fear that I will resort to my parents' style of parenting. I feel happiness when I hug her. I feel panic when she screams in her colicky time. I feel tired from disturbed sleep. I cannot wait to hold her again. I miss my old life. I marvel at how Clementine and I work together nearly seamlessly to accomplish all that needs to be done. I love Clementine and Hester more and more each day. I want to go back to work. I never want to go back to work. I think I am doing pretty good being a mother.

The next hat is that of music therapist. Even on my maternity leave, that life creeps in. I had go to a meeting with my intern and her professor. I had to interview a prospective intern for next year. I worked on documents for work. I proofed a manuscript for publication. I discussed and worked on a submission for presenting at the next national conference. I am bummed that I did so much on this time off but then I love my profession and my work so much. I have to go to a music therapy conference tomorrow for three and a half days. Hester may come down to join me on Thursday evening. If not, she and Clementine will join me Friday. I feel horrible leaving them for this conference. I don't really want to go but must take a course and I am on the regional executive board so I guess I have to go. But Hester has only been home for three weeks. But I miss my work life. It has been my passion for so long. How do I balance these two hats?

I have a third hat that I cannot speak much about. There was a civil rights violation and I am doing something about it. Tomorrow, I have a big, important meeting about this. I am nervous. I have never done such a thing before. But my lawyer told me to walk proudly and be strong for I am "wearing the hat of justice." My lawyer rocks! But this hat of justice is heavy and I have carried it for years and will continue to carry it for an unknown amount of time. But it is far lighter than carrying the weight of second class citizenship.

Next week, I start up with work again. I am tremendously sad this time is coming to an end. That is when the juggling act will begin in earnest.

The End is Near

If you read my wife's blog then you know that Hester is getting close to discharge. It looks like this Sunday or Monday if things go well with the final treatments. So far, it has gone really smoothly over the past week. Hester is feeling great and happy as can be.

We are just so thrilled to have this journey come to an end. Last night, a per diem nurse who has cared for Hester on occasion said good bye to us. With hugs and kisses, she told us we are her favorite parents and Hester is her favorite girl in the NICU. Her outpouring of emotion was unexpected but so very sweet. It is funny to feel sadness to not be around all our new acquaintances of the nurses on the entire floor and that we will not see all the new born babies around us or the teeny tiny preemies.

We had a bit of a scare last night. I was changing Hester and getting her ready for her bottle, including 1/2 oz of breast milk (pumped all day long), and I noticed dried drainage on her ear and that it was red, hot, and swollen. The nurse was disturbed by it too so she called the pediatrician. He came and looked at her ear and said everything was OK, that it was just ear wax liquefying and draining out. Weird. But the best thing was she was OK.

Tuesday, this week, one of the first things I did was put in for my maternity leave. I am taking a month off starting the end of this week. I have only three more rides on the train and one more alarm at 5 AM to catch the train. I am thrilled to have the time off to bond with my family and relax.

I keep hearing "you better sleep now cause when she comes home, you'll get no rest." That really makes me angry because for the past nearly 7 weeks, I have gotten no rest. Neither of us have. We are at the hospital with her, often spending the night, getting up for her feedings or to soothe her, getting up at ungodly hours to then go to work, working all day, then rushing back to the hospital to do it again. And on the days we do not spend the night, we are struggling to drive home awake, getting there around 11 PM and starting over again at 5 AM. I think being home more than 1-2 nights a week, not juggling work duties and intern training, and no train rides will be much more restful even if Hester is cluster feeding all night every night. I will be home again, with my cats and dog, with my wife, with my daughter, sitting on my couch, looking at the walls we painted, showering in my shower, eating food we make. I think I will be more rested.

The other thing that pissed me off is my boss insisting that I will get nothing done because I will be so tired from no rest. Doesn't she know that if you say "you can't" to me makes me say, "Oh yes the fuck I will, just watch me?" I plan to work on revising a paper for publication and sending it off, writing two brief essays for a national internship site application, and write a policy paper with Clementine for publication. And if any of you say, "Oh, you'll be too tired" you will just add fuel to my fire to get this stuff done and show everyone that doubted me that I can.

The feelings I have about bringing Hester home and really bonding with her as a mother are so complex, they defy words. When I am not so freaking tired, I want to write more about it. The irritation at others is much easier to write about right now. Those feelings are simple and familiar. All these changes in me, my role, my identity, my boobs, I feel them and know them but the words for them are lost to my half mast eyes. Give me a few more days for a deep meaningful post.

Oh, here is Hester! She is wearing scrubs to match me!!

Longing for the Long Awaited End

The week drags on and I cannot focus on work. All I think about is how much longer until the day or week is over and I can go see Hester. By body, mind, and soul ache to be with her. To top it off, the length of this hospital stay is starting to really wear on us. We try very hard to keep calm and keep our cool but things happen that we just do not like at all. It is a weird balance I feel we must keep of keeping the peace with the nurses so Hester gets good care and advocating for her best interests as a parent. The novelty (if there ever was any) of living out of bags at a hospital has long worn off. I am weary of not eating home cooked food and of not sleeping in my bed or next to my wife. My eyes long to look at our little home, the walls we painted, the couch we bought, the orange door, and even our dirt backyard. I miss the kitties and dog. And I want Hester to see her home, meet her pets, lay in her crib, and be with her mama and mumzy all day and all night without drugs, nurses, leads, monitors, lactation consultants, intercoms, and cafeteria food. Well, she eats formula so maybe not the cafeteria food. But you get the picture.

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

There are not enough hours in the day. I was nonstop all day yesterday, slept 4 hours, and now am back up getting ready for work. And today will be just as full and intense as yesterday. I have so much to say but the timing is not right.