It's 10pm.
Seven days before Christmas.
I'm sitting at work "finishing" up some charts.
I am suddenly overcome with anger.
WHAT am I doing here right now?? At this minute? I am helping NO ONE.
This work I'm typing away at, trying so hard not to just scream, it's hoops. Fucking hoops. For insurance companies. So I can BEG them to pay me. Pay me peons for the hard, good. compassionate, humanitarian work I'm out here trying to do, but can't, because of this.
This death trap of notes.
I put quotations around "finished" because, at this moment, I know, no matter how diligently I try. No matter how much time I spend here. Typing. Instead of completing my shopping list for my 5 children. Instead of seeing my husband AT ALL today. Instead of eating a complete meal. Instead of enjoying the rest of the evening, after finishing clinic at 8pm, to provide walk-in hours for my sick patients. I will quite literally, NEVER BE FINISHED.
I am typing away.
Clicking box after box after box after box after box after box after box.
Reading reminders on each patient. Have they gotten their mammogram? Their pap? Their flu shot? Their colonoscopy? Have you checked their labs? Their HgA1c at least twice this year? Have you talked to them about their "health care goals"?
Did you order an Xray within 30 days of their acute back pain? You did? Ok...ding...you're no longer a "quality" physician. So...we're going to actually pay you less.
As quickly as I resolve them, new results come in. New documents. From specialists. Labs. Physical therapists. Insurance.
F.U.C.K.I.N.G insurance.
Under the guise that they "care". That they are courteously reminding me of all the "missing" items for the "quality" care of my patients.
Do you know what quality care is!??
I do. It's my passion. I love speaking to people. Meeting them. Getting to know who they are. What makes them tick. What makes them enjoy life. Are they enjoying life? Are they not? What's stopping them? Is it mental? Is it physical? Is it chemical? Is it biological? I have these answers. All of them...if I just had the time to dig a little bit. The time to help them trust me. To understand their communication style. The time to really, REALLY understand their healthcare goals.
If I were allowed to do it my way, I could help all of my patients.
But, instead, I am in front of this horrid, white, glowing, screen...typing away.
As I type, I'm neglecting something.
My patients can't stand it. They confuse lack of time, with lack of compassion.
We don't care about them. We don't return their calls. We don't get their forms in on time. We don't give their lab results until 2 weeks after their drawn. Their referral wasn't sent. Their refill wasn't sent.
I hate it more than they do.
I am a problem solver. I like solutions. I like to help.
Sitting here. Typing. At now 10:24pm, is the last thing on EARTH I ever wanted to be doing.
Yet, here I am.
Drowning.
In this, slow death by charting.
Sunday, August 25, 2019
Monday, January 7, 2019
Hello 2019, Farewell 2018.
I ran into one of our favorite former neighbors tonight at swim lessons tonight. She so genuinely asked, "how are you!? How have things been?" I replied, just as genuinely, "Great, actually. I mean, really, really good. Things are as crazy as ever, and we never have a chance to sit down, but I don't think I'd want it any other way." Her kid was done with his lesson, and we parted ways, but the thought lingered, have I been great? Am I one of those people that misleads everyone into thinking an actually VERY difficult life, is one that is beautiful, fun and "perfect"?
When I think of the negatives from 2018, they're pretty significant. The most recent being, the loss of Matt's uncle Martin. Just days before Christmas. The others began in March, with the rupture of my achilles tendon. An injury that resulted in, not only significant pain, large medical bills, some existential crises, a brief depression, a strained husband, and early retirement from the sport of Pickleball, but a HUGE loss in income. Like, 6 weeks worth gone...even though I didn't take more than 4 full days off, despite surgery, a cast, and no weight-bearing for weeks. Then one month, nearly to the day, when both Matt and I probably couldn't have felt any lower or more strained, his job went through a HUGE round of lay offs...including him. In the span of 4 weeks, we went from potentially planning an addition on the house, or a big, family European vacation to just trying to open our eyes in the morning and not simply give up. A bruised ankle. A bruised ego. And our savings vanishing. The Spring of 2018 has only one stint in the life of Erin & Matt that could potentially match it in lows...Spring of 2011, when I both failed a board exam and didn't match into my residency of choice...oh, and Matt got let go then as well. Can the employers suddenly sense his strain from my failures!!??
He went the whole Summer, without a job, but home with the kids! I view this as a very positive experience. If he ever wants the job of SAHD, I am ALL IN!! It was heavenly. To know your kids are taken care of by their father. Not having to coordinate anything. I would gladly work 60+ hour weeks if I knew he was home with the kids.
The kids did swim team for the first time. Curtis narrowly missing level II's on only his 3rd 25 backstroke, ever! Such a fantastic experience, we all loved it. We had true Pool rats this Summer.
We went to Bunkerhill with my family. To the lake with my dad. To the farm. Twice.
We hosted the 4th of July for the 3rd or 4th year in a row. Neighbors joined. Family joined. It was a blast.
School started. Brock plays an instrument he loves. Matt and I went on a lovely vacation to Cancun, just the 2 of us. Though, our pet bird Slushie passed away, it allowed us to welcome Ducky. A much younger, friendlier and more trainable parakeet.
And, I launched right into my injury, skipping our wonderful early Spring. We went to San Antonio. The kids' first flights! The whole trip, I have only fond memories. The kids are steamrolling into fun ages. We truly are in the sweet spot with the kids. No diapers. No naps. No hormonal teens. Just sweet, innocent, inquisitive, beautiful kids.
The 4 youngest played Soccer. Curtis making huge strides. George the high scorer. Mitch met future classmates. Diana stole the show.
Diana started dance. Formally. Who are we kidding? She's always been in "dance".
Brock, begrudgingly played tackle football. Loved seeing those adorable boys in their pads and helmets.
I went to Vegas, via PJ, with my longest and bestest friend, as well as our mothers.
All three of my boys were awarded "virtues" in school at some point this year, which makes me feel we are doing something right. But, there I go again, forgetting that we also had many a meeting about George, and even Brock. Struggling with schoolwork and participation at times.
Brock rocked it with him trombone in the Christmas program. After stressing to the point of it affecting his schoolwork for the 10 days leading up to it.
Matt did finally, get a job. He's now at KuMed. EXACTLY what he wanted. Honestly, he had started searching before getting let go...the job loss timing just couldn't have been worse.
Curtis, Brock and I snuck away to St. Louis for a little mom-son birthday trip.
We celebrated Thanksgiving in our home, with 40+ family members.
We all remained healthy for Christmas, and spent it with our closest loved ones. Santa even visited and spoiled those children rotten.
We attended endless social events, game nights, weddings, showers, celebrations with our friends and family, new and old!
Ending the year with a nice dinner party, including a handful of our closest friends. Eating great food, and playing fun games. Brock, Curtis and George actually staying up to ring in the New Year for the first time.
I list all of these, and it's what I remember. I smile. I loved it all. But, I'm truly leaving out the part about how much money all these events cost. How much time and energy I put into hosting Thanksgiving, school parties, etc in addition to working 45 hours a week. I do have moments where I am insanely stressed. Where, perhaps, I'm even bitter. Moments where I'm not sure it's worth it. Weeks where I feel overwhelmed because I haven't been home enough to do one single load of laundry, nor make a meal, nor read my child a book. I know I this happens, but, it's not the highlight in my head.
My memories of 2018 are filled with joy. With the beauty of childhood. With a true appreciation for health. Family. Friends. Jobs. And, perhaps, more than anything, my husband. During this insane rollercoaster that was 2018, we became even closer. Respect one another just that much more. And our love and partnership has never been stronger nor more in sync.
So, you all can call me delusional. Crazy. Misleading. A liar. But, I mean it when I say, "I'm good. And things are really great."
And, let me close with these wise words: Whatever doesn't kill you, makes you stronger.
When I think of the negatives from 2018, they're pretty significant. The most recent being, the loss of Matt's uncle Martin. Just days before Christmas. The others began in March, with the rupture of my achilles tendon. An injury that resulted in, not only significant pain, large medical bills, some existential crises, a brief depression, a strained husband, and early retirement from the sport of Pickleball, but a HUGE loss in income. Like, 6 weeks worth gone...even though I didn't take more than 4 full days off, despite surgery, a cast, and no weight-bearing for weeks. Then one month, nearly to the day, when both Matt and I probably couldn't have felt any lower or more strained, his job went through a HUGE round of lay offs...including him. In the span of 4 weeks, we went from potentially planning an addition on the house, or a big, family European vacation to just trying to open our eyes in the morning and not simply give up. A bruised ankle. A bruised ego. And our savings vanishing. The Spring of 2018 has only one stint in the life of Erin & Matt that could potentially match it in lows...Spring of 2011, when I both failed a board exam and didn't match into my residency of choice...oh, and Matt got let go then as well. Can the employers suddenly sense his strain from my failures!!??
He went the whole Summer, without a job, but home with the kids! I view this as a very positive experience. If he ever wants the job of SAHD, I am ALL IN!! It was heavenly. To know your kids are taken care of by their father. Not having to coordinate anything. I would gladly work 60+ hour weeks if I knew he was home with the kids.
The kids did swim team for the first time. Curtis narrowly missing level II's on only his 3rd 25 backstroke, ever! Such a fantastic experience, we all loved it. We had true Pool rats this Summer.
We went to Bunkerhill with my family. To the lake with my dad. To the farm. Twice.
We hosted the 4th of July for the 3rd or 4th year in a row. Neighbors joined. Family joined. It was a blast.
School started. Brock plays an instrument he loves. Matt and I went on a lovely vacation to Cancun, just the 2 of us. Though, our pet bird Slushie passed away, it allowed us to welcome Ducky. A much younger, friendlier and more trainable parakeet.
And, I launched right into my injury, skipping our wonderful early Spring. We went to San Antonio. The kids' first flights! The whole trip, I have only fond memories. The kids are steamrolling into fun ages. We truly are in the sweet spot with the kids. No diapers. No naps. No hormonal teens. Just sweet, innocent, inquisitive, beautiful kids.
The 4 youngest played Soccer. Curtis making huge strides. George the high scorer. Mitch met future classmates. Diana stole the show.
Diana started dance. Formally. Who are we kidding? She's always been in "dance".
Brock, begrudgingly played tackle football. Loved seeing those adorable boys in their pads and helmets.
I went to Vegas, via PJ, with my longest and bestest friend, as well as our mothers.
All three of my boys were awarded "virtues" in school at some point this year, which makes me feel we are doing something right. But, there I go again, forgetting that we also had many a meeting about George, and even Brock. Struggling with schoolwork and participation at times.
Brock rocked it with him trombone in the Christmas program. After stressing to the point of it affecting his schoolwork for the 10 days leading up to it.
Matt did finally, get a job. He's now at KuMed. EXACTLY what he wanted. Honestly, he had started searching before getting let go...the job loss timing just couldn't have been worse.
Curtis, Brock and I snuck away to St. Louis for a little mom-son birthday trip.
We celebrated Thanksgiving in our home, with 40+ family members.
We all remained healthy for Christmas, and spent it with our closest loved ones. Santa even visited and spoiled those children rotten.
We attended endless social events, game nights, weddings, showers, celebrations with our friends and family, new and old!
Ending the year with a nice dinner party, including a handful of our closest friends. Eating great food, and playing fun games. Brock, Curtis and George actually staying up to ring in the New Year for the first time.
I list all of these, and it's what I remember. I smile. I loved it all. But, I'm truly leaving out the part about how much money all these events cost. How much time and energy I put into hosting Thanksgiving, school parties, etc in addition to working 45 hours a week. I do have moments where I am insanely stressed. Where, perhaps, I'm even bitter. Moments where I'm not sure it's worth it. Weeks where I feel overwhelmed because I haven't been home enough to do one single load of laundry, nor make a meal, nor read my child a book. I know I this happens, but, it's not the highlight in my head.
My memories of 2018 are filled with joy. With the beauty of childhood. With a true appreciation for health. Family. Friends. Jobs. And, perhaps, more than anything, my husband. During this insane rollercoaster that was 2018, we became even closer. Respect one another just that much more. And our love and partnership has never been stronger nor more in sync.
So, you all can call me delusional. Crazy. Misleading. A liar. But, I mean it when I say, "I'm good. And things are really great."
And, let me close with these wise words: Whatever doesn't kill you, makes you stronger.
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