and then

I found myself too caught up in the moment to be anxious about the fact that all that separated a not quite born baby from the floor was my hands. With the screams in my ears and my hands being guided by larger more experienced hands I was the first to hold the tiny baby girl as she came into the world. She came quickly and before I knew it she was in my arms and I was lifting up toward her Mom. It was surreal, it was euphoric, it was amazing. When I walked into the room there were 8 people, now there were nine. Even though I knew from a practical standpoint of course that this was going to happen, watching it happen, helping making it happen was far less of a practical moment and more of a spiritual one.

Its one of the most extraordinary moments of human existence. Its messy, smelly and bloody, so much in fact we wear big disposable blue boots. It can be dangerous, even deadly but its a journey that every person has been present for at least once. I have studied the details of the embryology and the physiology of pregnancy but as I held that baby girl I can’t help but stare in wonder at what didn’t even begin to exist nine months ago. What didn’t exist entirely 9 seconds ago….is now living, breathing and screaming.

And the first thing she ever knew was my big clumsy hand grasping her with all I had and clamping the cord with my other hand.

and then there she was on her own the world’s newest person.

and then I did it all over again two more times.

cherry obession

I was doing really well with the whole living in America, being a med student living in the now, being content till about 2 days ago. I was in the grocery store minding my own business and then from no where they appeared a bag of cherries. BIG RED CHERRIES…. Way back when I was a wee 19 year old kid full of idealism right after I stepped off of American soil for the first time I found myself surrounded by cherry trees ripe with cherries. I spent a good portion of the nicer days that summer picking cherries and taking them as gifts where ever I went. But there were this bag of cherries sitting ther ein the middle of the produce section next to the grapes looking forlorn and out of place. And I suddenly had a longing for a great big sticky handful of fresh Romanian cherries.

I’ve tried to substitute with American summer staples like ice cream sandwiches and Popsicles. I went swimming in a clean pool with other Americans. I went to the beach a few weeks ago and am going again. I wore a tank top and and read on my porch. I’ve savored air condition. But it just doesn’t feel right. I haven’t spent a summer in America in 4 years. I don’t know what to do with myself.

Today I hung out in the special needs eye clinic. You know you would think that I would love love love American health care with all its technology and solutions for these kids. It just also makes me all the more aware of how much my people in Eastern Europe suffer. Its as if I do not understand their nakedness entirely until I see the full beauty of clothes. The more clothes I encounter the more I am ashamed of their nakedness.

yeah I keep sort of deep down wondering if I will grow out the whole e. europe thing…like if this will be some sort of phase of my life that will fade out like that time I used to sing in the choir. but it seems to be here to stay, it seems to have taken hold in strange ways.

I think I shall make a cherry pie this weekend when i go home.

the not so sacred sacred moments

Why does the sacred have to be confined to places of worship? I recently realized my most sacred moments in life rarely happen in church. For example recently…

Holding the hand of a child as they fall asleep.

Watching my grandparents celebrate 50 years surrounded by their children and grandchildren. Listening to their stories and remembering the miracles of the past 50 years.

Singing and laughing tucked back in a grove of trees with the same folks as the sun sets.

For the first time, diagnosing a child (a 9 mon old) with cancer and hoping and grieving with her mother.

Waking up and finding this in my garden. I didn’t plant this. I have been so busy, I haven’t had time to weed….

Sitting on a stoop in hot, humid, sultry SC with old friends from the other side of the world. Laughing, talking and just simply enjoying the company of people interested in living beyond the America bubble.

Holding my very first well child check patient and watching her eat her first birthday cake. (no HIPPA in Romania mission clinic)

That’s whats up in my life. That and lot of studying for the surgery shelf (not really so sacred).

Big People

They are making me take care of BIG PEOPLE. GROWN UPS. ADULTS. I swear the first three patients who came I just didn’t know what to do with them. I just didn’t seem to know how to start a conversation with them. My usual bag of tricks of cartoons, books, sports teams and Hannah Montana was useless. I finally managed to have a half-hour conversation with a woman in the pre-op area about Budapest. And she thanked me profusely saying none of other “surgeons” in the past had ever offered any sort of distraction during the pre-op process. I then began to wonder if I was supposed to do such things with grown ups. No one seemed to care one way or the other. Sheesh I am terrible at all this professionalism and seriousness that goes into taking care of grown ups.

Today they let me take care of little folks’ eyes, it was a relief. Its not that I hate taking care of adults, I just don’t enjoy it.

the baby

I could tell a lot of tales from the last week of peds surgery. If you talked me recently, you probaly know I saw my first case of child abuse in America this week. I am not going to blog about it because of the sensitivity of the issue not even under password protected. I was surprised how hard it was for me. I seen so much gross neglect and abuse of children overseas. But most of it has been at the hands of the state and not at the hands of the child’s own parent. But it didn’t make me want to run from pediatrics, if anyting it motivated me. Little kids are so worth fighting for, there are few more just causes than protecting a child from harm and comforting them when they encounter it.

Today I was on rounds call. I went in and we were done by 7. I learned how to do an arterial blood gas and then found myself wandering the NICU. An idea came to my head. I presented myself to the nurses and asked if I could feed a baby. I explained that I had volunteered before I came to medical school. I spent 45 minutes holding a baby who happened to also be my patient. He had screamed all morning and his Mom never comes to see him. The nurse sent me to him when I asked to be put to work. I put on the gown and and sat in a rocking chair and watched the sun finish coming. I kept waiting for some doctor to walk in and send me off to do scut. But no one ever came and bothered us. I sang softly to him and stroked his little head and watched his eyes slowly droop When I left him in his crib, he was content and for the first time all day not crying. The nurses offered me a grateful glance. I nodded, grabbed my white coat and headed home.

There is more to these children than numbers and orders. My profession is really good at forgetting that.