We've all heard about incidental findings:
The kid who is hit by a baseball at Little League and undergoes a scan only to be diagnosed with a benign sinus tumor that is resected and he goes on to live happily ever after.
The woman with the giant thymoma picked up on a preop chest Xray.
The broken axle found when a car is taken in for an oil change.
I've seen all of these. And yeah, that was my car. Once upon a time. I took it to another mechanic to make sure I wasn't being scammed. I wasn't. Damned Texas potholes.
I try not to give too much credit to fate. Or should I say Fate. I like to think that things happen and sometimes we're in the right place at the right time and we find out about them and we can do something about it. I'm not always sure what "right" means. Oh, for a sinus tumor, or a chest mass, or a broken car it's usually fairly clear cut.
Sometimes, though.
It's not.
I lost a friend last year. Rather, I chose to let him go. It was a painful, long-fought decision that came after months of struggle on both our parts. The months following the decision were lonely and I questioned myself. Often. And then the strangest thing happened. People started incidentally coming into my life in different (read: "new") ways. These were people I'd known, I'd spent a little time with, but I hadn't put a lot of energy into friendships because these people didn't require much of me besides enjoying their company. Anyway...
It was as if they were being held up to a viewing box and I was able to examine their qualities more clearly. (When I first started as a PA, I used to have to look at radiographic films that way. Just to clarify things for the young pups reading this.)
These people were present all along but I wasn't as aware of them as I could have been.
I'm sitting here again. In my state of gratitude.
For friends. You were there all along. Thank you for waiting for me to learn to appreciate you. I'll keep working on it. I promise.
p.s. And for the first one of you who thinks I've compared you to a thymoma. No, not exactly. :) Now, hush.
p.p.s. And for my PA classmates. Did reading this make any of you go through the Terrible T's? It did me.
©Michelle Scofield, March 22, 2013 All Rights Reserved
Friday, March 22, 2013
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Do the Questions Have Meaning?
3.1 miles 32:55 avg pace 10:37 min/mile (Enough time to think)
There's nothing like an impending birthday to stir Existential Crisis. Perhaps I'm exaggerating. I did a little research on the definition of "existential crisis". My situation is more Question than Crisis. But there are hella lot of questions. And I've had hella lot of time to think them up. I've been driving miles and miles (cue The Who on your radio dial) to cover clinics while another PA has been vacationing. When National Public Radio goes into the second cycle of the day's news, I turn my radio over to classic rock and thus: The Who. And Boston. And Kansas. And Blue Oyster Cult.
And I start feeling kinda old and I remember I'm going to be 54 this weekend and what am I accomplishing, where am I going, why am I still single, do I want to stay in Houston...and wait just a minute!
I'm only going to be 53. Why do I keep thinking I'm going to be 54? (Time out to do a little math and confirm this.)
Yeah. I'm going to be 53. And why does this really matter?
Why does anything really matter. Oh, hell. Here I go again.
"All we are is dust in the wind." I first saw Kansas in (I think) 1975. They're playing at The Arena in Houston on May 31st. I may have to buy a ticket. But will it be the same? Will I be bummed out like I was when I saw Chicago 30 years after the first time I saw them? Or like that time I saw Average White Band not so long ago and I only paid 9 bucks for my ticket and that's what it was worth? After "Cut the Cake" there wasn't anything worth hearing.
*sigh*
I listen to these bands while I drive to a job to do the same thing that I did the day before and I'll do again tomorrow.
And then: I meet a new patient who tells me a funny story about New York City, or about music, or about his awesome kids. The only reason he opens up is because I said something about New York City, or about music, or about my awesome kids. I did it yesterday and I'll do it again tomorrow.
Kansas happens to be opening for Blue Oyster Cult on May 31st. Some things really don't change. I'm sure I saw both bands that same summer back in Wichita. Would I go back? To that summer? To 15? Will seeing Kansas make me feel 15 again? Is it worth the price of a ticket?
Now that's a question. I'll add it to my list and think about it on my drive tomorrow.
©Michelle Scofield, March 12, 2013 All Rights Reserved
There's nothing like an impending birthday to stir Existential Crisis. Perhaps I'm exaggerating. I did a little research on the definition of "existential crisis". My situation is more Question than Crisis. But there are hella lot of questions. And I've had hella lot of time to think them up. I've been driving miles and miles (cue The Who on your radio dial) to cover clinics while another PA has been vacationing. When National Public Radio goes into the second cycle of the day's news, I turn my radio over to classic rock and thus: The Who. And Boston. And Kansas. And Blue Oyster Cult.
And I start feeling kinda old and I remember I'm going to be 54 this weekend and what am I accomplishing, where am I going, why am I still single, do I want to stay in Houston...and wait just a minute!
I'm only going to be 53. Why do I keep thinking I'm going to be 54? (Time out to do a little math and confirm this.)
Yeah. I'm going to be 53. And why does this really matter?
Why does anything really matter. Oh, hell. Here I go again.
"All we are is dust in the wind." I first saw Kansas in (I think) 1975. They're playing at The Arena in Houston on May 31st. I may have to buy a ticket. But will it be the same? Will I be bummed out like I was when I saw Chicago 30 years after the first time I saw them? Or like that time I saw Average White Band not so long ago and I only paid 9 bucks for my ticket and that's what it was worth? After "Cut the Cake" there wasn't anything worth hearing.
*sigh*
I listen to these bands while I drive to a job to do the same thing that I did the day before and I'll do again tomorrow.
And then: I meet a new patient who tells me a funny story about New York City, or about music, or about his awesome kids. The only reason he opens up is because I said something about New York City, or about music, or about my awesome kids. I did it yesterday and I'll do it again tomorrow.
Kansas happens to be opening for Blue Oyster Cult on May 31st. Some things really don't change. I'm sure I saw both bands that same summer back in Wichita. Would I go back? To that summer? To 15? Will seeing Kansas make me feel 15 again? Is it worth the price of a ticket?
Now that's a question. I'll add it to my list and think about it on my drive tomorrow.
©Michelle Scofield, March 12, 2013 All Rights Reserved
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
Goals
28:00:75 That's my personal best for a 5K race. I know because I dug through my bookshelf and found my old race bibs. Next to Stephen King and Cormac McCarthy, next to an oil painting by my great-great-grandmother, next to a bronze urn holding buttons and keys and magic markers, I found them - held together by a safety pin. They were just where they should be. In a place of safe-keeping.
I ran that race when I was 44 years old. Almost 9 years ago. I found another bib with my finish listed at 29 minutes. Most were around 30. There was a 10K at 1:00:07. Who WAS that woman? I have no recall of even thinking about time - at the time.
Today I ran 3 miles in 31:17. To make my PR, I'd have to run each mile over a minute faster. It's a goal.
But.
However.
I also have a goal to run a 10K at the end of the month. Injury free.
I'm smiling as I type this. It feels good to have goals again.
©Michelle Scofield, March 6, 2013 All Rights Reserved
I ran that race when I was 44 years old. Almost 9 years ago. I found another bib with my finish listed at 29 minutes. Most were around 30. There was a 10K at 1:00:07. Who WAS that woman? I have no recall of even thinking about time - at the time.
Today I ran 3 miles in 31:17. To make my PR, I'd have to run each mile over a minute faster. It's a goal.
But.
However.
I also have a goal to run a 10K at the end of the month. Injury free.
I'm smiling as I type this. It feels good to have goals again.
©Michelle Scofield, March 6, 2013 All Rights Reserved
Saturday, March 2, 2013
Food for Thought
This morning, I spent an hour at the nail salon. It felt wonderful. I try to get in every couple of weeks because I'm so hard on my feet. On clinic days, I'm on them about 10 straight hours. Add running to the mix and it's a set-up for trouble. We wear a lot of sandals in this area and I don't want my tootsies to look gnarly. I don't go for acrylics on my fingernails. Just short and clean but with washing about a hundred-thousand times a day, it's nice to have someone help me keep them in good shape, too.
There were 3 other customers in the shop this morning and were treated to a fashion show, of sorts. (I go to a small, family-owned salon.) One of the nail techs had been to a department store clearance sale and brought in her finds. She paraded in front of us, modeling one after the other of 40% off sale priced items - some of which she bought for a real steal. We smiled and laughed with her sisters and cousins. We cheered her smart shopping.
It was all fun and games until one of her cousins became irritated and turned away, speaking rather harshly. She said that, "Shopping is the only thing that makes her (the cousin) happy." She also said something about, "...they'll only have water, not food."
I'd noticed how exhilarated the model was becoming. Her smile was bigger with each blouse she pulled from her shopping bag, with each garment she tried on for us. She was giggling and twirling. It was something to see.
I felt a familiar tug at that moment. I've felt that same high about food before. And about shopping. And about new relationships. And about taking risks.
Not so now. These days I sometimes find myself worried that I'm becoming...boring. I rarely make purchases unless I've been mulling them over for a very loooooooong time. I'm Ms. "Measure Twice and Cut Once". I went zip-lining a couple weeks ago but you better believe I checked the place out thoroughly prior to doing so and also made sure my insurance was up-to-date.
Safety has replaced Impulse as my Modus Operandi.
As I put these words to screen, I realize that I'm likely just hanging out at the other end of a swinging pendulum and I could stand to move more toward center. What I want for myself is a life less at the extremes. There are few risks (in life or relationships) because I stomp on the brakes before the journey can begin moving down the road.
Stuck isn't where I want to live. Now THIS is food for thought.
©Michelle Scofield, March 2, 2013 All Rights Reserved
There were 3 other customers in the shop this morning and were treated to a fashion show, of sorts. (I go to a small, family-owned salon.) One of the nail techs had been to a department store clearance sale and brought in her finds. She paraded in front of us, modeling one after the other of 40% off sale priced items - some of which she bought for a real steal. We smiled and laughed with her sisters and cousins. We cheered her smart shopping.
It was all fun and games until one of her cousins became irritated and turned away, speaking rather harshly. She said that, "Shopping is the only thing that makes her (the cousin) happy." She also said something about, "...they'll only have water, not food."
I'd noticed how exhilarated the model was becoming. Her smile was bigger with each blouse she pulled from her shopping bag, with each garment she tried on for us. She was giggling and twirling. It was something to see.
I felt a familiar tug at that moment. I've felt that same high about food before. And about shopping. And about new relationships. And about taking risks.
Not so now. These days I sometimes find myself worried that I'm becoming...boring. I rarely make purchases unless I've been mulling them over for a very loooooooong time. I'm Ms. "Measure Twice and Cut Once". I went zip-lining a couple weeks ago but you better believe I checked the place out thoroughly prior to doing so and also made sure my insurance was up-to-date.
Safety has replaced Impulse as my Modus Operandi.
As I put these words to screen, I realize that I'm likely just hanging out at the other end of a swinging pendulum and I could stand to move more toward center. What I want for myself is a life less at the extremes. There are few risks (in life or relationships) because I stomp on the brakes before the journey can begin moving down the road.
Stuck isn't where I want to live. Now THIS is food for thought.
©Michelle Scofield, March 2, 2013 All Rights Reserved
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