The mental break is needed. I know it won’t be a particularly restful vacation – how is it possible with 3 children, the youngest of whom enjoys waking up at the crack of dawn? But it will be a break from the daily grindhouse, of that I am sure.
It also means a small break from my half-marathon training. Yes, that is going quite well, but the long runs will take a small backseat over the next two weeks or so. I will aim to run 3-4 times a week regardless, they just won’t be more than 10k. I worry about losing momentum but I think I have developed a good base which should carry me through.
I hope to return from the lake with a rested mind. My patients need it. I need it.
I am sitting in a salon chair finally getting my hair done. It desperately needs some help and this was the only time I could fit it in. I
work this afternoon and then I am off for almost three weeks.
Three more hours of patient visits to go.
Three more hours of lab reports, consults and prescription renewals.
Three more hours of dealing with other people’s problems.
Yesterday I started to worry that I was getting depressed again. I suddenly just felt … I don’t know, I felt off. I felt like I just didn’t care about any of it anymore. I didn’t want to go home and face the chaos of trying to clean and pack and deal with the kids.
But then I got home and amongst the chaos and dirty faces and piles of laundry to fold, I felt immensely better. I was happy to be home. I can’t begin to describe how reassuring that was to feel. Despite the state of emergency that my house is currently in, I was happy to be home and in the middle of it.
I don’t need a break from my family, house or kids. I need a break from work.
It all started with a little television show called The X-Files. I was obsessed. Of course aliens are real and have been visiting our planet for decades! Of course the American government covered up the events in Roswell, New Mexico. Now, before my fellow physician colleagues out there call for a psych consult, let me be clear that I don’t really believe any of that. Sure, sometimes it’s nice to think that we, humans, are not alone in this vast universe, but I certainly don’t believe that we are being visited on a regular basis by other intelligent creatures from far away galaxies. Nor are select individuals being abducted from their homes and experimented on in spaceships. (Though, as an aside, have you ever been in an MRI machine? The bangs and clicks those machines make are startling similar to the sounds that abductees often describe. I’m just saying.) The concept of “We are not alone” is an intriguing one. One pervasive human trait is our fear of being alone. I think we pair bond for that reason (and of course to reproduce, but really I think, to avoid being alone). How can we be the only intelligent life in the universe? What makes us special? Was it happenstance? Divine intervention? A fluke?
Speaking of mish mash. On a trip to Montreal about 8 years ago, husband did some research on where to eat and what to do in the city. He found a little greasy spoon outside the city that had a wonderful reputation for something called the mish mash. Apparently this was the place to go to for a hangover breakfast. And that’s exactly what we did. The restaurant was called Cosmos. Run by a Greek family, the house specialty was the mish mash – fried mashed potatoes, bacon, sausage, eggs and anything else you wanted, all mashed up together. Seriously, it was one of the best breakfasts I’ve ever had.
Shockingly, we found out a few years ago that Tony (top) was killed in his home, his son a suspect in the murder. So sad and tragic.
I started this blog in September, 2011. I was a month away from starting back to work after my second maternity leave. I felt like I had learned so much from experiencing pregnancy, childbirth, and postpartum depression that I realized how much it helped make me a better doctor and wanted to share some of that experience. Little did I know that three and a half years later, I’d still be writing and would have close to 350 followers! It’s been fun being able to see where all my visitors are from. Some of you are thousands of miles away, others are just hop, skip and a jump from my back door, and some are from cities I’ve never heard of! Some of you are active contributors, others merely quiet observers.
I forget how fast 7 days can go by. We are back from our week at a cottage rental. The kids had a fantastic time and though the weather could have been a bit better, we all got to enjoy the lake and I even got a tan!
The kids were up at the crack of dawn and were ready to go. Thank goodness this cottage has a phenomenal basement full of toys. It certainly kept the older kids occupied for an hour or two while husband and I struggled to get another hour of sleep. The baby was so incredibly easy. The fresh air made for great naps and he loved crawling in the grass and exploring the ground.
I was hoping that the week off with no running would help with my knee. Sadly, it hasn’t done much. I may not have been running but I certainly was walking up and down stairs a lot and up and down a slopey hill to get to the lake. “Rest” just wasn’t in the cards for me.
A few hours after we got back to the city I suited up for a run to test the knee and quickly realized that I’d made a mistake. I struggled through 3km.
So, having gone from this:
And too much of this:
I am now sitting with an ice pack on my knee and swallowing my pride. I guess my body wasn’t as ready as I thought it was for 10km.
Looks like I’ll be seeing the physiotherapist this week.
There is nothing like leaving your children with their grandparents for a few days and having a relatively quiet house. The older two kids spent 3 days at my in-laws this week and despite the fact I still had to wake up with the baby, I slept in every day and felt relatively human again.
No doubt the kids got whatever they wanted – popsicles, freezies, cookies, crackers. I’m sure there were some healthy choices but let’s face it, what happens at Grandma’s stays at Grandma’s.
So the kids are back today and the reprogramming begins. Over the past few days, they’ve apparently forgotten how to say “please” and “thank you”. “I want” is back in their vocabulary. It’s kind of funny, actually. The same people who, 35 years ago insisted their children have proper manners, have decided its okay that their grandchildren behave like heathens. Boggles the mind, folks!
Still, time away from parents is a good thing. I always enjoyed the time I spent with my grandmother precisely because I could do whatever I wanted, eat whatever I wanted and watch as much TV as I wanted. Good times!
We had planned on taking the kids to the Museum today but it’s bitterly cold out and no one has time for that. As I write this, the kids are watching Sleeping Beauty for the hundredth time, playing with their Christmas toys. The house looks like a tornado came through (again!), so I best be signing off for now.
My FB feed today is full of comments about the weather. It’s a snowy, slushy mess today. It’s February, for heaven’s sake, what do people expect??
Hubby said this would be the perfect week to have gone south. I reminded him that indeed, 5 years ago this week, we were in Negril, Jamaica on our honeymoon.
We stayed at CoCo La Palm on the seven-mile beach.
Heaven. It was pure heaven.
I have been wanting to go back ever since we left. The locals were incredibly friendly, we loved how everyone was on “Jamaica time”. We’d order a Red Stripe and maybe it would arrive a half-hour later. So we quickly learned to order several at a time (ha!) so we were well stocked.
As I look out my office window today, the snow and slush make me want to get on a plane right now with the family and hit that beautiful beach again.
I think I am ready for winter to be over. We’ve had our fair share of snow and sleet. I want to see my tulips sprouting. I’d like to put my boots away. It’s time.