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Book preview for When Medicine Meets Holy Matrimony: For the love of Danskos

9/30/2015

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The original Danskos: wooden clogs
​I totally get the concept of work shoes. Sturdy boots for firemen and construction workers, 7 inch clear plastic heels for strippers, and polished oxfords or Cole Haan pumps for the business world.
 
In the medical community, it’s all about the Danskos.
 
Danskos are perhaps the ugliest shoes to grace God’s green earth. They look like Dutch clogs and are worn as slip on shoes.
 
To add insult to injury, these suckers are expensive. The basic styles start around $120.00, up to $150.00. Granted, they do wear well and only need replacing every four years or so.
 
Danskos come in a variety of colors and styles, from patent leather to pebble leather to extra, extra shiny patent leather. Flowers, stripes, psychedelic swirls, sequins, spots, you name it. I guess that makes them “stylish”, or something. I’m sticking with something.
 
I wish I could tell you exactly how many medical professionals (medical assistants/nurses/physician’s assistants/primary care docs/surgeons/anesthesiologists/radiologists) wear Danskos, but I couldn’t find any concrete data. My guess is 70 percent.
 
When asked why he wears them, my husband said, “Because it’s easy to clean blood from them.”
 
Well, there you have it. The bloodless wonder shoes. They should advertise exactly that!

Want to read more of my book in progress? Click here.
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What I never expected about Midwest living

9/24/2015

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PictureMy husband and I visiting the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk, one of my very favorite West Coast places.
I’ve been a West Coast girl my entire life, until this past year.

















I was born in Northern California and spent my childhood in endless golden sunshine, heavily chlorinated backyard pools, seething heat, and ocean surf. Until my parents “made” us move to Washington state right before my 13th birthday. Cue me telling friends and family that they were moving, but I wasn’t moving. Mature.

From ages 13 to 30, I lived in and around Seattle. It took me a few years to truly appreciate the Evergreen State, but, let me tell you: it is a magical place. Natural beauty is abundant (Ocean! Two mountain ranges! One giant active volcano! Forestry! Lakes! Rivers!), and so is super fresh sashimi and other “essentials”.  No wonder the real estate market is skyrocketing. 

All this to say, I never imagined myself living anywhere else. My entire extended family on my dad’s side lives in the bay area, and my immediate family lives in the greater Seattle area. Nevertheless, I did move away. I left that West Coast that I love so dearly. I left it for the man I love more than words can say: my husband.

First, we lived in Pittsburgh for a year. We knew it would be temporary, so we rented an apartment with twice the square footage of our Seattle condo, for the same price as our previous mortgage. That was a good introduction to housing markets outside of the West Coast!

Then came the biggest change of all: we moved to the Midwest. For my husband’s dream job. For good.

If someone had told me five years ago that I would be a permanent resident of Central Illinois, I would have laughed it up. And yet, here we are, making a life for ourselves and for our daughter among the cornfields in the Land of Lincoln.

No offense to my fellow Midwesterners, newbies and lifers alike, but there was one thing I never expected about Midwest living: to actually like it!

Yes, busy downtown streets and million dollar rooftop views have been replaced with extra wide highways and sprawling suburbia, but that’s okay!

The living is easy.

There is NO TRAFFIC. Seriously. I can get from one side of town to the other in 15 minutes, regardless of the time of day. No more planning my day/evening based on traffic patterns and avoiding the dreaded Denny Triangle.

The people ARE NICE. Not fake Seattle nice, but genuinely kind.

On our first few days here, we had rented a Suburban (I know, right? Way to blend in). My husband was about to unload groceries out of this behemoth of a vehicle, when a six pack of Blue Moon came crashing down out of the trunk and all over our driveway. It was a mess of epic proportions, since broken glass, beer, and 90+ degree weather were involved. We didn’t even have a broom, a hose or a bucket to our name.

One of our neighbors witnessed the catastrophe and immediately came over to offer assistance. We ended up taking him up on his broom/bucket loaner offer. Then he asked us if we like pulled pork. We are people who say yes to pulled pork. The next day, his wife brought over home smoked pulled pork, coleslaw made from scratch, and sandwich buns. It was such a sweet gesture that made us feel incredibly welcome.

Those aren’t the only kind of neighbors we have here. There is WILDLIFE in our backyard. In Seattle, we didn’t have a yard. We had an alley, and it wasn’t very appealing. In our backyard I have seen all manner of wildlife, including: squirrels, bunnies, cardinals, blue jays, and one brazen beaver that trounces around eating our grass like he owns the place. I assume it’s a ‘he’ with commitment issues, since every time I try to get close to him (for a good photograph), he runs away. Hah.

Finally, it’s a very family-oriented town. Everyone seems to either be pregnant or have children. Now that we have a family of our own, a feeling of community matters to us.

So, Midwest—I didn’t think we would get along, but I am happy to say that we do. Life is funny that way.

Have you ever uttered the words, “I would never…”, only to later eat those words?

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The summit of Little Si just outside Seattle.
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Sailing on Puget Sound.
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Methow Valley, Washington. Where we got engaged.
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View from our Seattle condo rooftop.
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Parenting and the dawn of a new era: B.B. and A.B.

9/15/2015

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It was a 6th-century nomadic monk named Dionysius Exiguus who first introduced the world to the concept of quantifying time based on a significant historical event. In particular, Dionysius thought the incarnation of Jesus Christ ought to mark the past and present. Hence, the labels, “Before Christ” (B.C.) and “After Death” (A.D.). We are all familiar with these.

For new parents, however, there is only B.B. and A.B.: Before Baby and After Baby.

BB: Coming up with a super blog idea and publishing it immediately.       
AB: Coming up with a super blog idea and publishing it 5 months later.

BB: Dreaming of owning a kayak and serene morning paddles on the lake.
AB: Splashing around the baby pool and bathtub until she’s old enough to swim.

BB: Imagined traveling with a baby to Ireland wouldn’t be that different from previous adventures.
AB: Was I temporarily insane?? I can’t even make it to the mailbox on most days!

BB: Phone camera reel includes sappy pics with the hubby, vistas from exotic vacations and delectable foodie treats.
AB: All baby, all the time! And sometimes comparison shopping photos of cribs.

BB: I’m free as a bird! Sure, let’s go see a movie. Preferably in a theater that serves martinis.
AB: Comcast On Demand, you have saved our lives.

BB: Used the crock pot only in winter, perhaps a couple of times a year.
AB: A critical tool for our family’s survival. Low and slow, baby!

BB: Online shopping for pumps and blazers.
AB: Online shopping for Pampers and bottles.

BB: Schedule as accurate as accurate can be. Thank you, Outlook.
AB: I don’t make the schedule. See: the BOSS (baby).

BB: Worrying about spilling Malbec on my new blouse.
AB: Specifically purchasing clothing that will hide inevitable baby slobber and whatnot. Please don’t ask me to elaborate on the ‘whatnot’.

BB: I can pretty much do whatever I want, whenever I want to do it.
AB: I can’t do anything within any reasonable amount of time, but I do have this beautiful, perfect baby to keep me entertained in the meantime.

BB: Life is grand.
AB: Life is grand, hilarious, unpredictable, and oh-so-sweet.

And then, of course, there is the next era: Before Teen and After Teen. More on that in a few years.

Parents, share your BB and AB stories!
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