... a day in the life...

This morning I slept in until a leisurely 8:45 and promptly wasted an hour watching mind-sucking reality television on my laptop.  I ate a freezer-burned sesame bagel with some undefined type of spreadable cheese from small foil-wrapped triangles I found in the fridge.  I drank the remaining dregs of yerba mate left in the pot from Rob before he left for work.  I made a few calls, got dressed and spent approximately three minutes fiddling with my hair and thinking about how desperately I need a haircut and how little time I have to make appointments.  Giving up on the hair I ran out the door making a mental note that I needed to take a sticky roller to the cat hair coating my black tights, then forgetting.  I listened to the same cd that has been on repeat in my car for the past three weeks as I drove to a home visit.  It was sunny.  Squinting, I remembered how I used to care enough to actually change my regular glasses to my sunglasses when I was outside. I ran up the four flights of stairs to the apartment where I was doing my visit and arrived so out of breath that I had to take a few minutes before I could communicate with the parents.  The visit was uneventful.  I checked in with one of my preceptors to let her know how the visit went as I raced down the stairs and back to my car, worrying about running late to meet my other preceptor at the hospital for another visit.  I got stuck in traffic, squinting in the sun and singing along mindlessly, texting my preceptor to let her know I was on my way.  I arrived at the hospital 20 minutes late, and searched for our client only to realize that my preceptor was not there yet.  Following the visit, I stopped in at the clinic to photocopy next week's clinic schedule and attempt to motivate myself to prep my charts.  Failing that, I suddenly realized I was incredibly, horrifically grumpy.  I left the clinic, drove home and have been lying on the couch moping ever since.  I am eating gingerbread cookies and attempting to make fun plans for next weekend (off call) and my month off in December.  Rob is making chicken dumpling stew in an attempt to cheer me up. 

For some reason this reminds me of the movie Magnolia, when William H Macy's character had the song "Dreams" playing in his car every time he drove anywhere... his character was at least as hopeless as I feel today. 

 

That actually just kinda cheered me up.  

... shine down on me...

Still writing this "last paper"... it's amazing how completely I can draw things out to their very longest, most painful length.  Today is the day it will be handed in... mark my words!  Unfortunately I've made plans to have dinner with friends, which would be a good thing except that I will not be finished the paper and will therefore be distracted and stressed out. 

Rob has been sullen and down, so I shooed him outside for a bike ride.  It's amazing how we know these things help, but are sometimes so incapable of motivating ourselves to do them.  This is what we need each other for.

Outside the (dirty) windows the sun is shining strong and bright, doing it's best to warm the chilly air but not quite succeeding.  Still, it cheers me up.  I feel, taste, smell the undertones of winter.  Instead of being scared, this year I feel more curious.  How will I handle it?  Will it be alright?  I feel the need to be "better" at winter, with these plans to move back to Winnipeg on the horizon. 

I'm sure exercise would help.  Oh well. 

...writingapaperpaperwritingwritingapaper...

I feel googly-eyed.  How can something that takes up so much of my mind not really be coming along?  So, so very slow going.  I will certainly be using my grace days. 

Last paper.  Last one.

Haven't I said that before?

... where is my mind?

This is just the very best thing ever, for so many reasons.

...ebb and flow...

It's amazing what a couple of days off, two 10-hour nights of sleep, a trip to Ikea for some organizers and shelves, and two double-doses of vitamin b can do for one's outlook on life.  

After my last post, I kidnapped Rob when he came home from work and we went out for dinner to a little thai restaurant nearby that I've been wanting to try.  We used to go for thai food about once a month back in Winnipeg; it was one of our favourite things to do.  Now we don't have the luxury of going out for dinner as much as we used to, but I think it's important to make room for things that ground us once in awhile.  Inside the cozy little red-walled  restaurant, I told him how I was feeling over rice rolls and pad thai.  He sympathized and empathized, and said he was really feeling the same way.  We made a decision to try harder to live in the present. 

Together, we spent Sunday doing things around the apartment that we just sort of were never getting around to.  With a bit of love and attention, we finally have a place that I completely love coming home to again.  Rob even re-potted the sad little plant clippings we had been neglecting in a corner, and now they are thriving all over the living room.  My anxiety has calmed.  For now, I feel better. 



 

...rude awakening...

Somewhere along the way I've lost myself.

I don't want to get melodramatic, but it's true.  It's something that I haven't been able to put my finger on, but now that I have I can see I've known it all along.  I spend so much of my "free time" wrapped in fleece, hooded sweatshirts and legwarmers, computer on my lap and doing what I can to relax.  In "relaxing", I become immobile and half the time if Rob doesn't bring me food and tea I might not eat or drink.  This makes me feel terrible.  I start to wonder where and when I became so lazy, and then question whether lazy is really the word.  The truth is, I don't feel lazy - can't, when so much of my life is spent jumping out of bed at all hours, hard at work, learning, thinking, running, prepping, giving, trying, failing, trying again.  I tell myself - and others (parents, friends, Rob) agree - that this is only temporary; that it can't be helped right now because of the intensity of the midwifery program.  I tell myself I made this choice and this immobility, dissatisfaction, departure from myself is the essence of that sacrifice.  But I haven't really believed that... I can't.  No matter what my circumstances are and how I got here, disengaging from life is not required.  In fact, I can't even say it is the "easy way" to cope, since so much dissatisfaction and unhappiness comes from having checked out of life.  So I'm not sure why I've ended up here.  

I am tired of feeling envious of people with life and creativity and passion.  I am tired of feeling like I remember having those things once, and wondering where they went.  I am tired of assuming all of this is because I've gotten older.  I don't believe getting older means changing into something less than I was before and being satisfied with things that once would never have been enough.  And blaming this sorry state on the midwifery program is a cop-out; I can see that now.  Lots of people go to university - many people even work seriously hard.  It is not a good excuse for disappearing.

I used to enjoy writing - lately I feel like I don't have a clue how it's done.  Generally my posts feel forced and boring.  I have wanted to dig deeper, but couldn't remember how.  I used to love music.  Listening to music, finding new music, going to shows.  Recently, I have felt like I don't know where to find it, and haven't had time for it.  I used to take pride in having a tidy, warm, unique space to come home to.  Lately I've been stressed out by knowing it is messy, boring and in need of attention, but I've been too tired to figure out what it needs.  I've been blaming the whole thing on the space itself, or on being broke and not having the resources to tend to it.  The truth is, it doesn't need resources.  It just needs love.  I'm aware of it... and yet it continues to be messy and unloved.  The list goes on.  Suddenly, as of now, I'm awake... and I know I have a lot of work to do.

... yet another midterm...

More than a month (nearly two) since my last post... how?!  Time flies when you're in extremely uncomfortable, challenging periods of growth, I guess.

This semester has differed significantly from the last.  Instead of having just one preceptor, I now have two officially and spend a lot of time with several different midwives.  This has its advantages and disadvantages: I've enjoyed getting to know different midwives and their unique styles of practice... however I also feel confused by the varied opinions on different circumstances since I am at a point in my learning where I need to become comfortable making management plans.  For example, if one person is not worried about a baby's weight loss and another is extremely worried about the same baby's weight loss, how should I be feeling about it/managing it in a way that everyone is comfortable with?

I have started to see periods where I feel confident and capable, and in those moments I can see how far I've come.  However sometime this past week or two I started to realize that the game has changed... where once I was being told what we had to do on a given day, or was being prompted along plans of management, suddenly I am dropping the ball if I am not keeping on top of every detail and bringing up my plans without prompting.  It's not that I can't do it, nor that they are being unfair to me... it's just that I'm still figuring it all out.  The worst part is always how hard I am on myself, and how hard I take the critiques because I hate being wrong!  I don't know if it's exhaustion, or being overwhelmed... but I cried a lot this past week.  

Which makes the fact I am taking two days off all the more important.  Yesterday was our midterm exam, which I thought seemed to go pretty alright, especially because I just couldn't bring myself to spend as much time studying as I usually do.  Only the mark will tell, but I feel like I passed which is the main thing.  My evaluation with my preceptors and tutor is on Monday morning.  I know I'm doing alright, but these things always make me nervous.

I've been feeling more and more homesick and ready to take on the prairies again.  My midwifery contacts back home make it sound really promising for positions around the time I will graduate.  The question of whether to stay or go has been on my mind lately.  Only time will tell, but I think Rob and I are both feeling pretty ready to roll on out of Toronto at this point. 

It took awhile, but I feel like I finally know where home is.  Now that I know, having to wait before going there is excruciating!  I am so glad I've developed renewed appreciation for it.