It's my favorite Jackson Browne song, and I feel like I am. Both of the kids were born in October, so I spend the whole month working and traveling to see them. Two week ago I went to San Antonio with Christina then flew back and worked all week. Then I got off at 7am Friday morning, drove to Auburn to pick up Clay, then to Atlanta to pick up Christina, then back to Auburn to spend the weekend. Clay was sick all week last week, so I had fevers and runny noses and coughs to deal with. Then after a mere 36 hours we were doing it all in reverse. Then back to Fairhope Sunday night to work another shift. Tomorrow morning I'm headed back to Auburn for another couple of days with Clay.
"Lookin' down at the road rushin' under my wheels.
I don't know how to tell you all just how crazy this life feels.
I look around for the friends that I used to turn to to pull me through.
Lookin' into their eyes I see them runnin' too..."
But it's great to have the time to spend with them. I'm fortunate to have two great kids whose affection far exceeds my expectations, and is exponentially more than I deserve.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Ten years ago this minute...
... we had finally given up. Christina' head just wasn't coming out the natural way, so we were resigned to a C-section after hours and hours of labor. So after a few hours of sleep, we were set to go to the operating room for the big birthday. At the time I was recently graduated from residency and we were living in Bay Minette, AL where I was making the first of my two futile attempts at being a family physician, doing full spectrum family medicine including obstetrics and nursery. So the staff in labor and delivery (L&D), the OR and the nursery all knew me reasonably well, well enough to let me go places other fathers couldn't go and do things other fathers couldn't do. And so it was that at 6:18am (her mother and I were married on 6/18) when my little Scooterbug was finally cut out of her home of the last nine months, I was right there watching over her and making sure everything was exactly right. And it was. She was absolutely beautiful, with an oblong head from hours of trying to find a way out and a thin sheen of bright red/orange hair like her mother (it was several weeks before her blond hair came out).
Back in those days at North Baldwin Medical Center (now North Baldwin Infirmary) L&D was on the second floor, and the OR was on the first, so after a C-section the nursery staff put the baby in the warmer and rolled it to the elevator for the trip up to L&D, where the anxious family would all be waiting to see the new arrival. Invoking my special privilege as an attending in the nursery, I insisted on carrying my beautiful new daughter for the trip upstairs, so that when the elevator doors opened I walked out carrying my baby girl. Darla and I had told everyone we had a girl on the way, but we wanted a little suspense so we withheld her name until she was born. And so, with tears in my eyes and a huge smile on my face, surrounded by friends and family I announced "I would like you all to meet my daughter, Christina Leigh Williams!" It was probably the greatest moment of my life, and I still tear up when I think about it.
Christina had had a busy first half hour of life, and the nurses in the nursery were anxious to get on with their work, so we didn't linger long. But before I gave my baby up to all the poking and prodding that goes along with being newly born in a hospital in the 21st century, I had a little something planned for our first father/daughter time. We sneaked away from the nurses, friends and family into our post-partum room for some quiet time together. I had brought a CD player, and had Stevie Wonder's "Isn't She Lovely" ready to play, and we just sat, and listened, and sang quietly, and cried. Well, I did. She didn't. She just laid there, squirming a little, staring and blinking at me and stealing my heart just like she's done every time she looks at me ever since.
Aside from those first, truly precious minutes, I have one other memory from that first day that really stands out as special to me. The night of Christina's first day of life, Darla was still pretty tired and needed to rest. So when all the family left and the nurses settled down for the night, I got comfortable in the big green leather overstuffed recliner in our post-partum suite, and put Christina on the left side of my chest and we slept all night, there in that big green chair with her lying as close to my heart as you can get. And now, ten years later, she's still there. She never left.
Happy birthday, my little Scooterbug! I love you.
Back in those days at North Baldwin Medical Center (now North Baldwin Infirmary) L&D was on the second floor, and the OR was on the first, so after a C-section the nursery staff put the baby in the warmer and rolled it to the elevator for the trip up to L&D, where the anxious family would all be waiting to see the new arrival. Invoking my special privilege as an attending in the nursery, I insisted on carrying my beautiful new daughter for the trip upstairs, so that when the elevator doors opened I walked out carrying my baby girl. Darla and I had told everyone we had a girl on the way, but we wanted a little suspense so we withheld her name until she was born. And so, with tears in my eyes and a huge smile on my face, surrounded by friends and family I announced "I would like you all to meet my daughter, Christina Leigh Williams!" It was probably the greatest moment of my life, and I still tear up when I think about it.
Christina had had a busy first half hour of life, and the nurses in the nursery were anxious to get on with their work, so we didn't linger long. But before I gave my baby up to all the poking and prodding that goes along with being newly born in a hospital in the 21st century, I had a little something planned for our first father/daughter time. We sneaked away from the nurses, friends and family into our post-partum room for some quiet time together. I had brought a CD player, and had Stevie Wonder's "Isn't She Lovely" ready to play, and we just sat, and listened, and sang quietly, and cried. Well, I did. She didn't. She just laid there, squirming a little, staring and blinking at me and stealing my heart just like she's done every time she looks at me ever since.
Aside from those first, truly precious minutes, I have one other memory from that first day that really stands out as special to me. The night of Christina's first day of life, Darla was still pretty tired and needed to rest. So when all the family left and the nurses settled down for the night, I got comfortable in the big green leather overstuffed recliner in our post-partum suite, and put Christina on the left side of my chest and we slept all night, there in that big green chair with her lying as close to my heart as you can get. And now, ten years later, she's still there. She never left.
Happy birthday, my little Scooterbug! I love you.
Saturday, October 9, 2010
Christina and the Sea Lion
Well, I can't upload video to the blog using email like I can photos, but I'm working on it. I'll reserve this space for when I get it figured out.
Friday, October 8, 2010
I'm a-sittin' down in San Antone, waitin' on an eight o'clock train...
Kudos to the person that can name that tune first.
Tonight I'm writing on my iPad in a hotel room in San Antonio, TX near Sea World where, tomorrow, Christina will get to swim with the sea lions in a private session (her birthday present from her mother and stepfather). I landed in Houston this afternoon and made a quick drive across the city in time to pick her up after school and drive to San Antone. I had forgotten what a long drive it is (four hours), but it was a beautiful drive under clear blue skies driving west into a spectacular sunset. I generally feel that Texans are excessively egomaniacal about their state, but I have to admit it's a pretty drive once you get out of Houston, and the flat terrain makes the sunset last for hours.
Tomorrow will be exciting and fun, but I'm a little frustrated. I've been trying to get an iPhone for Christina for her tenth birthday (I realize this is controversial and I appreciate people's skepticism for giving a ten year old an iPhone, but I have my reasons and we'll leave it at that). But I'm frustrated because there have been some technical issues with getting the phone purchased and assigned to the number she's had for the last two years on her mother's account, leaving me at 10pm two days before her birthday without her present in hand. Makes me nervous. Frustrated.
Oh. Last night I went to see Mithril, the Celtic progressive band my drum teacher, David Hughes, is in. I thoroughly enjoyed it, and would recommend seeing them to anyone who has the opportunity. David is truly talented, and I'm hoping if I sit near him in class that some of it will rub off on me.
And the night before that I had another reminder why I love my work. The mother of one of our staff members was brought into the ER by her husband after she complained of chest pain. She passed out in the car on the way to the hospital and had to have CPR in the car before the nurses could get her inside. Doctor talk: initial rhythm was V fib, responded to first shock with return to sinus rhythm, started amiodarone and went to the cath lab, and should be able to go home. In plain talk: she was REALLY sick, but she responded well to treatment and will hopefully do well enough to go home without further incident. I'm not sure many people know how rare that is- to be brought into the ER having CPR done and surviving to be discharged from the hospital, but the numbers are well below 10%. It wasn't really anything I did that made it go well, but the whole team functioned beautifully, and fortunately we got a good outcome. But I love what I do. Frankly, most patients in the ER would do fine regardless (in spite) of what I did, but it's this small minority that makes me love my job.
Perhaps it's this phenomenal fall weather we're having, with the increased opportunity to get outside and absorb the sunshine and breathe fresh air, or maybe it's that I'm still so high from my medical mission work, or perhaps I've just reached a stage in my life where I can be happy again after a rough last few years, but SOMETHING has given me this really positive outlook lately. To all of you who suffered through all the dark times with me, thank you! I could never have made it through alone. I'm looking forward to good times for a long time to come.
Tonight I'm writing on my iPad in a hotel room in San Antonio, TX near Sea World where, tomorrow, Christina will get to swim with the sea lions in a private session (her birthday present from her mother and stepfather). I landed in Houston this afternoon and made a quick drive across the city in time to pick her up after school and drive to San Antone. I had forgotten what a long drive it is (four hours), but it was a beautiful drive under clear blue skies driving west into a spectacular sunset. I generally feel that Texans are excessively egomaniacal about their state, but I have to admit it's a pretty drive once you get out of Houston, and the flat terrain makes the sunset last for hours.
Tomorrow will be exciting and fun, but I'm a little frustrated. I've been trying to get an iPhone for Christina for her tenth birthday (I realize this is controversial and I appreciate people's skepticism for giving a ten year old an iPhone, but I have my reasons and we'll leave it at that). But I'm frustrated because there have been some technical issues with getting the phone purchased and assigned to the number she's had for the last two years on her mother's account, leaving me at 10pm two days before her birthday without her present in hand. Makes me nervous. Frustrated.
Oh. Last night I went to see Mithril, the Celtic progressive band my drum teacher, David Hughes, is in. I thoroughly enjoyed it, and would recommend seeing them to anyone who has the opportunity. David is truly talented, and I'm hoping if I sit near him in class that some of it will rub off on me.
And the night before that I had another reminder why I love my work. The mother of one of our staff members was brought into the ER by her husband after she complained of chest pain. She passed out in the car on the way to the hospital and had to have CPR in the car before the nurses could get her inside. Doctor talk: initial rhythm was V fib, responded to first shock with return to sinus rhythm, started amiodarone and went to the cath lab, and should be able to go home. In plain talk: she was REALLY sick, but she responded well to treatment and will hopefully do well enough to go home without further incident. I'm not sure many people know how rare that is- to be brought into the ER having CPR done and surviving to be discharged from the hospital, but the numbers are well below 10%. It wasn't really anything I did that made it go well, but the whole team functioned beautifully, and fortunately we got a good outcome. But I love what I do. Frankly, most patients in the ER would do fine regardless (in spite) of what I did, but it's this small minority that makes me love my job.
Perhaps it's this phenomenal fall weather we're having, with the increased opportunity to get outside and absorb the sunshine and breathe fresh air, or maybe it's that I'm still so high from my medical mission work, or perhaps I've just reached a stage in my life where I can be happy again after a rough last few years, but SOMETHING has given me this really positive outlook lately. To all of you who suffered through all the dark times with me, thank you! I could never have made it through alone. I'm looking forward to good times for a long time to come.
Friday, October 1, 2010
BAR run
Tonight was a great night to run with the Bar Area Runners in Daphne. The weather was sunny and clear, and at 6pm it was just cool enough to be comfortable. I logged a nice 4.8 mile course and posted it, complete with pics, to EveryTrail.com using the TrailHead app on the iPhone. EveryTrail has a nice database of trails posted by users for everything from hiking to running to walking, birdwatching and boating. It's a neat site for those of you who enjoy being outdoors.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)