Today Dad and I went met at his doctors, a Senior medical and social hangout called Elderplace, to interview together for StoryCorps
I have to admit I was harrassed. I had to take time off in the middle of the day, was stressed cause I left a patient earlier than I wanted. Knew I would miss another patient by not going to her house at lunch time; was worrried that Sophia had a half day and was walking home alone; AND was bummed that I was missing the yearly holiday breakfast. But I also was feeling like Dad is always the one that gets the last place in my energy and felt like this was a nice project. So I drove down to seattle, turned off my two cell phones and called in to say I couldn't be contacted by pager for two hours and we had a great time!! He was funny and interesting and thoughtful and just the best part of my wee Da.
I'll post the interview as soon as I can rip it.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Sunday, November 25, 2007
what I've been reading
I just finished the most beautiful of books. Its called The Shadow of the Sun and is the most interesting set of essays about Africa. . The gentleman who wrote it was a foreign correspondent for 40years and wrote of the different cultures and people throughout Africa. Most illuminating for me were the chapters on the history of the conflicts in Rwanda and Liberia. Ryszard Kapunscinski is the name of the gentleman and I bought this book because I so feel in love with Travels with Herodotus . This one was published this year and is about his travels and his reflections on Herodotus’ travels. It’s also a beautifully written and so interesting a book.
Herodotus must have been such a writer. I first became interested in him when reading Th
e English Patient. Another book so beautiful it is nearly poetry –even if the movie was annoying. In it , one of the main characters travels in the desert and reads Herodotus for years just as Ryszard apparently has done. A volume was given to him on his first trip out of Poland and he read it like it was a bible for decades afterward. I recently read the latest by Michael Ondaatje (author of the English Patient) and it was lovely writing. I had read several of his after being just blown away by The English patient. Coming through Slaughter was really interesting though difficult to follow and Anil’s Ghost is one of those books that echoes in the memory even though it wasn’t entirely successful. This new one, Divisadero . Is just an aching pleasure to read. Each page a gift…..though I can’t say I understood what he was trying to say with the collection of characters so nearly overlapping. It was an odd non-ending but still the loveliest read in a fall filled with fantastic reads. 
Herodotus must have been such a writer. I first became interested in him when reading Th
e English Patient. Another book so beautiful it is nearly poetry –even if the movie was annoying. In it , one of the main characters travels in the desert and reads Herodotus for years just as Ryszard apparently has done. A volume was given to him on his first trip out of Poland and he read it like it was a bible for decades afterward. I recently read the latest by Michael Ondaatje (author of the English Patient) and it was lovely writing. I had read several of his after being just blown away by The English patient. Coming through Slaughter was really interesting though difficult to follow and Anil’s Ghost is one of those books that echoes in the memory even though it wasn’t entirely successful. This new one, Divisadero . Is just an aching pleasure to read. Each page a gift…..though I can’t say I understood what he was trying to say with the collection of characters so nearly overlapping. It was an odd non-ending but still the loveliest read in a fall filled with fantastic reads. 
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
dripping with zirconia and hemp fur
Last saturday, Sophia and I went to see La Traviata put on by the Lyric Opera Northwest. I believe they are in their third season but this is the first time I've been. I'm pleased there is another company in Seattle willing to put on full productions. The operahouse was smaller and the chorus less spectacular (and the orchestra...well, perhaps I'm not so qualified to say) but the soprano! the soprano was perfect to every note and so, so lovely. The program seemed to suggest that she has spent the bulk of her career in Asia and put music on hold for child raising. Thus explaining why her perfect sound and honey tone was here for a $50 ticket in Bellevue. I was delighted.
Even better, my Sophia was also delighted. I have had my hopes settled on Sophie as my opera buddy for a long time. I remember gardening in the front yard when she was about three and she came dancing up, humming and twirling and being generally good garden company. I leaned in close to drop a kiss on her head and realized she was humming opera!
Yayyyyy!!! Hope for Mama. My future as an old lady opera doner, dripping with cubic zirconia and hemp fur, indulgent daughter on my arm is now complete.
Even better, my Sophia was also delighted. I have had my hopes settled on Sophie as my opera buddy for a long time. I remember gardening in the front yard when she was about three and she came dancing up, humming and twirling and being generally good garden company. I leaned in close to drop a kiss on her head and realized she was humming opera!
Yayyyyy!!! Hope for Mama. My future as an old lady opera doner, dripping with cubic zirconia and hemp fur, indulgent daughter on my arm is now complete.
Sunday, November 11, 2007
losing my mind around work lately...
losing my memory, losing my equilibrium, losing time and energy and losing my interest and joy in the work. Even worse, it is the kind of job that bleeds into everything else so I have been losing some of the general joy in the spaces between work and home. Getting irritable and snappy when the girls didn't move fast enough or pick up after themselves. Getting even more than irritable and worse, whiny, when Dad called for something.
Anyway, it seemed to all come to a head last week when I worked a whole bunch of overtime and was crying at traffic lights over patients and didn't even seem to be able to finish the paper work or work very efficiently. enough.
enough. enough. enough already.
I remember when I was first in orientation for this job, I met a woman who had been a hospice nurse for years. She also had children but was doing hospice work part time. She looked at me, when she realized I was going to be case managing and doing so full time and she said, "oh... lots of self care. Lots of self care"
Seemed kinda woowoo at the time. I actually don't mind woowoo but it tends to be expensive and something for those people who have more time than I do. But, it appears she was right. So I'm trying it
I will cry more for my patients and allow myself to be emotional. Even if it will be uncomfortable for me or the people around me. I will do yoga, and write in my journal and put more art and color in my life. I will sleep more and drink more water and tea. I will laugh with my children more. I will put more woo woo ceremony in my day. self care. self care. ;-)
Anyway, it seemed to all come to a head last week when I worked a whole bunch of overtime and was crying at traffic lights over patients and didn't even seem to be able to finish the paper work or work very efficiently. enough.
enough. enough. enough already.
I remember when I was first in orientation for this job, I met a woman who had been a hospice nurse for years. She also had children but was doing hospice work part time. She looked at me, when she realized I was going to be case managing and doing so full time and she said, "oh... lots of self care. Lots of self care"
Seemed kinda woowoo at the time. I actually don't mind woowoo but it tends to be expensive and something for those people who have more time than I do. But, it appears she was right. So I'm trying it
I will cry more for my patients and allow myself to be emotional. Even if it will be uncomfortable for me or the people around me. I will do yoga, and write in my journal and put more art and color in my life. I will sleep more and drink more water and tea. I will laugh with my children more. I will put more woo woo ceremony in my day. self care. self care. ;-)
Sunday, November 4, 2007
we wish to bear witness
Today I watched the movie Hotel Rwanda. I have been meaning to see it for awhile for a number of book reasons. One was the book that the movie was based on We Wish to Inform You That Tomorrow We Will be Killed With Our Families: Stories from Rwanda That was an extraordinary read about the Rwandan Genocide, the culpability of the Western world and the bravery and humanity of a gentleman who was the manager of a hotel in the main city. Another was a book that I read far more recently, Not on Our Watch: the Mission to End Genocide in Darfur and Beyond. This one was co-written by an international peace worker, John Prendergast and Don Cheadle, the actor who played the lead character in this movie. And lastly, I saw a copy of it recently and realized that it would be a good time to watch some grim downer movies while Mike was away at a conference and I could indulge in hormonal chick tears as much as I pleased. The movie was very good. The leading lady was beautiful and brilliant. One of those actors that you don’t expect to ever see again in a Hollywood movie cause they are simply too real. The book, We Wish to Inform you… was even better. Able to summarize and explain a complex history without shortcuts or stereotypes. 
Genocide is always been one of the subtexts in my reading life. My mother considered it the question of her generation –the world war II generation and collected holocaust literature the last 20 years of her life. I remember her saying to me that it might be that we (you girls, she would say, or you kids) would have to grapple with Vietnam or some other public justice tragedy. She would sit in bed and read her newspapers (two daily and three Sundays) her novels and stacks and stacks of history, politics, travel. It was wonderful to be with her, to learn from her and to learn how terrible the world can be, and to believe and know how wonderful.
To bear witness. To know and understand and tell others. It does not appear to be enough in the communication laden 21st century where everyone is frozen in information overload.
Genocide is always been one of the subtexts in my reading life. My mother considered it the question of her generation –the world war II generation and collected holocaust literature the last 20 years of her life. I remember her saying to me that it might be that we (you girls, she would say, or you kids) would have to grapple with Vietnam or some other public justice tragedy. She would sit in bed and read her newspapers (two daily and three Sundays) her novels and stacks and stacks of history, politics, travel. It was wonderful to be with her, to learn from her and to learn how terrible the world can be, and to believe and know how wonderful.
To bear witness. To know and understand and tell others. It does not appear to be enough in the communication laden 21st century where everyone is frozen in information overload.
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