Doggie Disappointment

This past weekend, we tried to take our dogs to one of the less busy dog parks in our city. We've found this one works out pretty well for us-- fewer dogs means a better experience overall for everybody, I think. This really stems from one of my dogs' social ineptitude when it comes to greeting other dogs. He's too gung-ho. He wants to great everybody, get right in their faces, and sometimes give them a nice sniff on the butt, or a hump or two. Usually, it's the getting right in another dog's face that doesn't go over too well (and occasionally the un-welcomed humping). Now, I'm no dog body language expert, but when he runs up to another dog and "gets all up in their grill," I really don't think he's being aggressive...just overly excited. Some dogs don't appreciate this excitement and I think they do see it as an attack. Here comes a ~70 pound Australian Shepherd at full speed... I don't blame them for getting a bit up-tight.

Anyhow, this little problem is what led us to going to the less busy doggie park. But this weekend, things didn't work so well. As soon as we got in the park, he ran up to a dog that was either an Irish Setter or a Golden Retriever (it was more red than gold) and it growled, bared teeth and moved away. The owner took notice, but then Jax kinda ran on to pee on something. Round 2 wasn't as good. He decided he wanted to get to know the stranger a bit better and ran after him/her. The dog eventually turned and went off. Prior to this, Jax was not growling or showing teeth, or anything. But when that dog responded as it did, he was on the defensive as well. When he started in with the dog, our other dog, Apollo, a Husky, started in to help protect his brother. The other dog's owner starts yelling at the top of her lungs "STOP IT STOP IT!" and using her little ball thrower to try to separate them. Ryan went in and just grabbed our two, as the second owner of the other dog was yelling "Whose dogs are these?!?" Ryan was right there...we don't leave our dogs unsupervised at the park. The woman ended up yelling, "We're leaving! We're just going to leave!" Thankfully, none of the dogs were hurt--it really didn't get to that point.

Ryan ended up putting our two on a leash and we walked around the park... I wanted to just leave, because I feel if you have to keep your dogs on a leash at the free-reign park, you shouldn't be there in the first place. I feel like such a failure when my boys behave badly at the park...but I get defensive of them as well. I don't like for people to think they are bad or aggressive dogs, or that they are starting fights. They're not the kinds of dogs that start fights...they want to have fun and run around and meet the other dogs. I've decided it just depends upon the chemistry with the other dog that will determine how things go at the park. I know I'm rationalizing, but if another dog can't handle my dog's overt friendliness...don't both dogs have problems? I feel like I've failed my dogs and am a bad dog owner when things happen--but how do you keep a social butterfly from being so social? I wouldn't know how to correct this behavior if I tried. And then there's the problem of him actually learning that other dogs don't like it when you get in their faces... I really doubt that you can hurt this dog...and if you can, he still won't connect the "I'm hurting" feeling with "Oh, maybe I shouldn't do that again" thing...especially in the social setting of the dog park.

The Type of Worship I Prefer

"The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.' " --Matthew 25:40

Let me say that I'm not writing this to "toot my own horn"--rather, I am writing as a more of a charge to some of the people at my church who disappointed me greatly this weekend, and to show an example of one of the few times where I've actually felt as if I'm doing something for God's glory. This Sunday, I felt as if I were truly worshipping the way that God would have me worship.

As my husband and I were walking into a side entrance (not the main one) of the church building, we saw a homeless man sitting in the windowsill of our building. He had his shoes off, his feet were resting on the ground, his head down, and the open, weeping sores on his grimy feet were glistening in the sun. I commented to Ryan about his feet and how horrible they looked--Ryan didn't have much to say. We weren't the only people who walked through those doors that morning, but I wonder if I was the only one to notice.

It angers me to think back on it. God clearly expects us to take care of people just like this man--so I was wondering, why was nobody reaching out to help him? I know some people didn't see him because they used different entrances into the church, fine...but what went through the heads of those who walked by?

• Were they condemning, thinking "That guy's probably a homeless drunk--look at him here waiting for a handout! He's making our church look bad-maybe we should call the police to run him off."
• Were they more worried about themselves, considering "Oh, well, I guess I could help him, but I might get my clothes or the church dirty if I brought him inside."
• Maybe they were sympathetic, wishing "If I only knew what to do for him, I would do something...but I don't think I have the skills. Poor guy..."

I don't know which of the above applied, but honestly, I think that had a dog or cat been sitting outside in such shape, somebody would have given it attention immediately. I don't know what it is about people that we are less forgiving and less willing to help out. Perhaps it's that we think that people have done something to deserve what they get, or that they can help themselves out of situations. And I'll admit... I'm guilty of these thoughts many times.

Regardless, this man needed help, and I couldn't very well go and claim to worship God while this man was sitting outside suffering. Some people believe that Jesus or angels present themselves as people in trouble needing help...I don't know if I believe in all of that, but I certainly knew that God was watching me and honestly, I think He was testing me. I went inside, sat my things down, and went to the First Aid room we have (yep, we have one!) to see what supplies were available. I felt we had enough to be able to bandage the man up, so I went outside in tears and introduced myself and offered to clean his feet for him. By this point, I was trying to not bawl-- my pregnancy hormones + frustration + compassion for this man were coming out of my tear ducts.

He said he just needed some socks because his shoes had been rubbing places on his feet, but he would be ok with getting them bandaged up. I brought him into the church, sat him down, and talked to him for a bit. His name was Roger, he was originally from Mt. Sterling, but had been put in a psychiatric hospital in town for 2 months and then I guess just discharged to the streets...he had been in our city since December, and he'd never been homeless before. He said he used to have some good Red Wing boots that didn't bother his feet, but that somebody took them, and he was left with cheap shoes and no socks.

I soon did get some help from other people at the church--one guy was a paramedic, he got me some soapy water and towels. One lady who is a nurse helped bandage his feet with me...and one of the assistant ministers went and got him a few things that would be helpful on the streets, including some other shoes, some gift cards to fast food places, and some socks. And then there were the few who poked their heads in, kinda said hello, and disappeared into the not so dirty, stinky, unpleasant, and real areas of the church--back to greeting those in suits and dresses I guess.

As we left church that day, I saw Roger back out on the sidewalk--he had said he figured he'd sit out there for a while--he didn't know what he was going to do that day. As it rained that evening, I thought of him, hoping he'd found at least a small patch to stay dry in.

Lessson Learned--God gives us opportunities to show our love for Him all the time, we just have to look around us and accept those opportunities. He might even want us to be uncomfortable or get dirty every now and then.

What it's Worth--Knowing that what I did wasn't just for that man, or for me...it was for Jesus.

Feeling it.

Dear goodness...I feel like a fat cow. I've got 11 weeks left (hopefully!)...or I guess 9 or 10 would be ok with me, ha ha. I just feel huge. My belly that is. I've not gained too much weight this pregnancy-- I'm on track to gain about 30 pounds total, which is normal.

I swear though, I think this child is huge! I've not gained much weight through my body, it's all in my belly. I feel like one of those yucky dog ticks that seems like it will burst as soon as you touch it! My skin seems it's as tight as it will go, and at any second, it might rip down the sides if I touch my belly because the tension is so great.

What am I going to do? I've got alot of time left in this pregnancy! Yikes!

Unexpected Vacation

Ugh. I've been off of school since Tuesday, and I'm not happy about it. This is my last rotation ever as a medical student and I'm working as an "Acting Intern" on Labor and Delivery, how apropos.

I've sworn this child might kill me before he is born, and he might also kill my medical career too. On Monday I had some (well, ummm not totally unprovoked) bleeding and immediately went to my hospital, where they found I was having contractions every 3-5 minutes. Joy. They gave me medicine to stop the contractions and sent me home, to have follow up the next day at my doctor's office.

They monitored me there for a bit, and I was having contractions still, but it didn't really seem like I was in labor because my cervix had not changed. Again, they gave me medicines to stop contractions. Right before they were going to take me off of the monitors and send me home...the baby's heart rate dropped to the 90s a couple of times and stayed there for about a minute (his heart rate is supposed to be 120-160). So, back to the hospital I went for monitoring. Again, a few contractions, and while there, the baby looked fine, so back home I went.

Wednesday, I stayed home all day on "bed rest." My mom came up and waited on me hand and foot, bless her. I had quite a few contractions that day. Thursday home again because they didn't want me to go back to school without being seen at the doctor's office first-- fewer contractions, and I saw my doctor that day. She did a test that can predict the likelihood of labor, and now I'm waiting on those results to figure out what we're going to do about school.

I hate all of this waiting, I feel terrible that I'm not there....I know and understand that the condition of my baby and my pregnancy are of utmost concern, but I feel like such a slacker. I think the people I have been working with are a sympathetic group, and I've been keeping them updated....but ugh, this is killing me. I hate this sitting at home when I know I'm supposed to be somewhere else. And I'm bored. So bored.....

Medical School=Doctor, Doofus!

I just need to vent about something that irks me to no end. This has happened to me multiple times before, but I just can't stand it anymore! Today, I went to have some labs drawn, by I guess, a CNA or CMA or certified (oh wait, they don't need to be certified in KY!) phlebotomist at the hospital. I was wearing my scrubs, because I'm working Labor and Delivery now. The lady asks me, "So, do you work here?" I go, "No- I'm a medical student at (local university)."

Her reply? Her REPLY?

"Oh, so are you going to be an RN or what?"

GRRRRRRRRRR GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR I could have just come up with the most scathing reply possible, but I didn't...I kindly tried to explain that no, I was going to be a doctor, and that I had spent 4 years doing this work (I didn't even try to explain that I already had one degree that was probably higher than hers) to be a doctor and have another 3 of residency to go. I don't think she was impressed or really cared. I'm sure she'll ask the next person who comes in and says "medical school" the same thing, sheesh.

As I was telling my husband about this tonight, he informed me that multiple people have asked him if I was going to be an RN or PA or some other allied health professional whatever (no disrespect to those degrees meant though)--and he's had to explain that no, my wife is going to be a doctor.

Why can't people understand these simple things?

--Medical School=Doctor, as in MD

--Nursing School=Nurse

--PA School=PA

I seriously wonder if this is just something that women run into....like, if I were a male, would they just reach the conclusion that I am working towards an MD? I'm sure guys who say they're going to medical school don't get the reply of "Oh, are you going to be a nurse?" And don't even get me started on those patients who assume that I'm a nurse in the clinics or up on the floors.

Muncie Match!

Just an update-- I matched at Ball Memorial Hospital in Muncie, IN! This was my first choice on my rank order list (ROL), and I'm very happy to know my direction for the next 3 years. Muncie was the last stop on my 16(!) city tour of interviewing craziness, but I'm glad I held out and went to that one. We really liked the people there, and my husband is super excited about the city, because they have Ball State University, with an MBA program and also this thing known as a business incubator--right up his alley.

Regarding baby business- before both my and the program's ROL were due, I called them up to break the news that oh, I'm having a baby the 2nd week of intern year--surprise! (Well, not surprise for me--baby boy was planned afterall...). I was a little nervous in calling them, but it wasn't too bad, because a resident and grad of UK almost 2 years ago had a baby the first week of internship, and everybody survived. The residency director's first reaction was "What is going on with these UK gals having babies in July!?!" Later on, he remembered to congratulate me, ha ha. I told them that if possible, I'd love to start residency October 1st, allowing me to stay here to have the baby and then move to Muncie in late August/early September. To my surprise, they were totally ok with this and just said that I'd start and finish late--no need to use electives or anything. The only condition was that I try to make the 3 weeks of orientation that take place the last weeks of June....hopefully I can make it! The picture of me, 36, 37, and 38 weeks pregnant trying to do chest compressions as part of the ACLS algorithm is pretty hilarious I think. I informed them I was planning on having the baby here...the residency director goes, "Well, this is your first right? And how far to Lexington? Oh, 4 hours....well, if you did go into labor, you'd probably be able to make the drive!" Ha ha. Let's hope we don't have to cross that bridge. My husband is doing more than hoping that doesn't happen, I think...he may do rain dances or chants to try to ward off the situation.

Below is "The Great Spirit"--a famous landmark in Muncie.

Apparently, the Comments have begun...

Today was a total blow to my pregnant self-confidence. The phase of strangers commenting on my pregnancy evidently has begun, and I'm not happy about it, not at all. What is it about pregnancy that makes people think they have free reign to blurt out whatever they're thinking within their tiny little heads? Normally, would a person start asking random questions of a stranger or try to make jokes regarding their condition so openly? I really don't think so. Even if a person is trying to comment to "make me feel cute, precious, ________, ________" whatever endearing term, I just don't really appreciate the commentary. I've had this huge (pun not really intended) fear of being one of those women who strangers look at and say "Oh, poor thing, she's got to be/looks/is so miserable." I don't want to be huge, I want to be normal and if possible, slightly cute. But, today has almost totally washed that pipe dream down the tubes.

Exhibit #1: I was seeing a 4 year old girl in clinic for her well-child check. Mom, who is 24 with an 8 year old and a 4 year old, half way through me talking to them just blurts out randomly--
Mom--"Are you having a baby?"
Me--"Yes, I'm due in July, it will be my first baby."
Mom--"Well that must be a BIG baby! My sister is due Aug. 10th and she's not nearly as big as you!"
Me--"Well, I'm a month ahead of her...." trying to keep from informing her that I didn't care how big her sister was, and that her sister was probably like 15 or something and not eating appropriately, and trying to keep from asking her if her sister knew who FOB was and all the other mean things I could think of....and also yelling at her for having a child when she was 15.

Exhibit #2: When walking back from the cafeteria at the hospital, with only a bag of Cheez.its and a spoon in hand, one of the crazy security guard people at the hospital says--
Security guy--"See, I told you to watch out about eating the cafeteria food, it's got you all bloated and stuff!"
Me--"Haha..." restraining myself against turning around and punching his teeth out.

Exhibit #3: In the clinic later on, another mother of a patient is in there-she's pregnant with her 4th child. Somebody asks her when she's due...she says May 30th-- a full 6 wks before me, but I swear, I feel that we're pretty close to the same size. I think she couldn't be older than 21....
So later on, I go back to the area where the students, residents, and doctors are sitting and lament the fact that I am feeling like I'm too huge to be barely over half-way through my pregnancy.... a male resident chimes in, genuinely trying to be helpful I think....
Resident--"So when are you due?"
Me--"The second week of July..."
Resident-- "Oh, well, is this your first or second baby?"
Me-- "My first...."
Resident-- pure silence...

The intent here was for him to be able to say, "Oh, well, if it's your second baby, then you're probably fine" or whatever....but this isn't my second.

There are a few things that get me all riled up about all of this stuff

• Firstly, I HAVE NO CONTROL OVER HOW BIG MY BELLY IS, OR HOW BIG MY BELLY WILL GET! I'm not eating everything in sight, and I've NOT put on an extra layer of fat. I'm not exercising because I have uncomfortable cramp-like sensations when I walk long distances, but I take the stairs for up to 3 flights, and park kinda far from school.
• Secondly, as I alluded to before--why is it that people think they have the RIGHT and the NEED to comment on my belly? It's MY BELLY! I don't comment on your belly, you don't need to comment on mine. What would things be like if people were going around saying "Hey, your spare tire looks a little inflated today!" I don't think it would be pretty. IF YOU'VE GOT THOUGHTS ABOUT HOW HUGE I AM, KEEP THEM INTERNAL---OR AT LEAST SAY THEM BEHIND MY BACK SO I CAN'T HEAR!
• Comparing pregnant women's bellies is not fair to anybody. We've got a distorted image of how a woman should look while pregnant--all that matters is that I'm healthy and the baby is healthy! And I know, I need to take my own advice and not compare myself to another woman, because I really don't know how big I am or how big I look.
• People can't assume to know how I feel about the way I look. I probably won't agree with ANY comment that is made, positive or negative. Right now, I feel that I'm as big as the broad side of a barn, and I've got 17 weeks to go, God willing.

Ok, I think I'm done ranting--and don't get me started on the rubbing the belly thing!

I need to get a shirt which reads "I don't comment on your belly, please don't comment on mine!"