Moving home...

So I've decided to move back to Texas.  James's idea.  We started this process months ago, the thinking and contemplating and then the plunge (the breaking up with work, my own patients, friends, my gynecologist, my primary care doctor, the gal who does my lashes and my esthetician).  It was bittersweet really because I love my clinic/work and its hard to get excited about another when you feel happy with the current.  This is where we've been the longest (since 2013), even longer than Alaska.  We had little Jess here... Portland.  I actually have so, so many memories in Portland.  I lived another life really, a married without kids life, back when Portland was perfect and I was part of retired youth, the early 2000's.  

I returned to northeast Texas a month ago for a job interview.  It was a culture shock--Never mind that I grew up there for a good 26 years.  Still, CUL-TURE shock!  I had very frigid feet about moving upon my return but not enough to withdraw my decision.  You know, it is just so religious there, so in your face, so how will this affect my kids, how does this mesh with my family values, how does this affect my kids, will I fuck them up?...will they actually become real life Bo and Luke Dukes?  I feel secure in my identity as an atheist but the living is just so easy in Portland...for an atheist.  I did panic.  I did, on the way back home from Texas, at the airport, in Dallas...I signed up for the East Texas Atheist group.  I haven't responded to their FB group questions...yet.

The other thing was the commitment to work, a 6 year stint.  I have regarded myself, along with many people from my past, as a commitment phobic person.  I get really nervous about that, I usually cannot commit to a get together if it is not in the coming 3 days...its pretty bad by myself.  Though, I've had to overcome this a bit with kids because you have to commit to things lest their hearts become broken and there I am, the asshole--I hate that.  However, after some contemplation, perhaps I've just bought into this identity trait--I have actually committed to many relationships:  once for 8 years (a marriage), another 8 years in my late teens-early 20s--this was very dysfunctional with frequent breaking up though--possibly I've never dated so much in my life during those 8 years...several times I committed to 9 month relationships (planned breakups due to planned leaving of the country for travel--important in your 20s I think) and most importantly, to James, going on 10 years now--fascinating really because nobody thought we'd make it, well mostly his ex-girlfriend didn't think we would, haha...  Also, I committed to medical school, residency and my current job (5 years) thank you very much so apparently, commitment is not the problem we all thought it was for me--I have stick-to-i-tive-ness after all!

I am rabbit trailing though...
There are many positive aspects to Texas:  lower lost of living, land--acreage really, the experience of building your home as you want and being able to afford that (not in Portland), great PUBLIC schools, growing up in Texas, being from Texas (this is the coolest though Alaska is a very close second), very aggressively nice folks....

I can only say that after much contemplation, mostly on a 40 minute drive to work one fine morning, I decided I am ok, ok with the 6 year commitment to a job ("or else you have to pay us back the 300 bazillion dollars we gave you" situation) and the aggressive religious undertones that may isolate my children in school when kids find out their parents are atheists--I am ok because my reason, our reason (remember, James's idea) is sound--FAMILY--I have this amazing, magical family that makes me laugh, loves me for me, quirky, full of fire and gusto Texas family that would be criminal to not expose my most beloved souls to--that James, my Jack and Jess...I realized that my heart is where ever they are and my home is where my heart is and my heart is that of a mother and if you're a mother...then enough said...I have to do this thing...

The first holiday...

The first holiday after losing a loved one sneaks up behind you...right behind the emotions that you put away so you can do your life, be a mom, be positive, be a partner, a daughter, a sister, a friend who needs you, a doctor...

I live away from my family so I thought this Thanksgiving would be like any other day.  I think about my mother every day so why would yesterday have been different?  The rest of my family experienced such a different holiday than usual--usually lunch is at my parent's house and everyone is there, more than 30 people come to eat.  This year was different, the family did not get together in one place, everyone had lunch in various places, with other family....my mother was in fact the glue.  

Yesterday, I thought about how I didn't know the last time I ate my mom's:

-Japanese egg rolls ("meats pies")
-Fried rice
-Mashed potatoes
-Fried pork chops
-Fried chicken
-Homemade french fries
-Pecan pie
-Pound cake

...would be the last time I ever ate them, the way she made them...she made them the best....I miss her

My mom and I (middle) in the mid 70's, Okinawa, Japan

Losing my mom...

Recently, I spent 1 month in Texas.  I went because my mother transitioned to hospice.  We learned that she had adenocarcinoma of the lung, stage 4, back in February (2017).  I left in a hurry on a Friday; I was not prepared to stay for so long--I took 2 pairs of panties--I thought I'd be back in 1 week given dying can take months.  

I had mixed feelings on the redeye plane ride there; my mother and I fought just one month prior, when I'd been visiting, and I had not felt sad since then; rather I was angry and frustrated with her. I started to wonder what my problem was--how could I not feel sad?  This all melted away when I finally laid eyes on her.  It reassured me that I wasn't some sort of deviant.  

She was so tiny, maybe 75 lbs by then.  She seemed at peace and spunky, her usual.  She still managed to smile and laugh through tears with eyes locked.  I miss her love of laughter (as well as her unconditional participation in gossip).

Watching someone die is fascinated and excruciating; this was my first experience with that.  I have felt guilty for decades because I do not live near my family and so I visit infrequently; taking care of someone while they're dying helps to absolve some of that guilt.

I don't know what's better--sudden loss, unexpectedly, without a chance to say goodbye or slow and drawn out with ample opportunity to say all you want.  Everyday she grew weaker and more fragile which was striking in such a strong woman, strong in every way--even at a previous 110 lbs (when I was growing up), she could beat me arm wrestling.  My mother was a stubborn and tough little Okinawan woman, a jewel really.

As days went by, she became less lucid, less responsive.  Just prior to a significant turning point, she punked my whole family by saying her goodbye/goodnight speech.  This was the most emotionally draining day for us because we really did believe she had decided it was time and she was just going to go to sleep and not wake up; she woke about 4 hours later and stayed with us almost 2 more weeks. Enough time for a 'golden glow' which consisted of a dance with my sweet nephew, an amazing man of only 21 years old.

We slept in shifts, my mother couldn't have had better care:  an RN (well, about 1 year to go in school), a physician (me), a medical assistant, a very brilliant and dedicated niece, and a loyal nephew.  It was amazing to have her entire family about her the whole time.  My dad hardly left her side.  I have a truly amazing family (enormous too).

She passed away on a beautiful Monday morning in May. 

I love my mom and I miss her so very much but when I talk of her I feel happy in my heart for she had a beautiful life with much joy and I am certain she felt loved. She and my dad have left this incredible legacy--family.

My sweet mom

Component parts of a maternity leave

1.  Alcohol

2.  Running (though not as often as I'd like but enough to stay on the brink of sanity)

3.  Crying-typically because its 3 a.m. & I just changed a poopy diaper 5 times in 45 minutes--no exaggeration here...& changed tiny long sleeved clothes 3 times due to marked spit up. 

4.  Coffee--I don't care if it purportedly decreases my breast milk production. 

What was NOT included:

1.  Sleep

2.  Going to the bathroom alone (sometimes just standing in the bathroom  for several minutes after all business in the bathroom is complete).  Two year olds with new siblings require a lot of mommy time & attention.

3.  Daily hygiene

4. Regular meals or warm meals 

Having 2 kids is HARD (when one is a toddler & the other is tiny), so, so challenging....80% of the time, it feels like drowning, exhaustive treading water--you're so tired but you can't break or you'll just drift downward toward your demise; it's really hard....

One kid is nothing really, when you think it's hard times...think again....good luck with yours. 

It's all so, so worth it though....I wouldn't change anything...

Happy returns...

The daily Jane has been on vacation for some time.  See, I was busy (see previous post); I've been losing myself, finding myself, trying to accept there's very little self left...you know, general parenthood-ing...

It's been a great 2 years with Jack, love of my life, very difficult job, being a mom.  Now, we have another jewel on the way, due in December; in fact, only about 3 weeks until he's ready to emerge though when is up to him...we'll just wait & be patient.

Also, I've finished residency, finally.  Moved away from beautiful Alaska with my James, & after many travels, ended up  in Portland, Oregon, kinda where things left off about 10 years ago, in a different life.  I'm a practicing family physician in a rural community near Portland, like it.  Challenging.  Better than residency for sure.  

Jane, James, Jack:  camping

It took a couple of years to come to grips with this new life.  Leaving education & training behind after, what??, 20 years (I was jogging toward that goal since the 90s or something)...its weird not to have a "goal" anymore, to have achieved, no more chasing, hoop jumping.  Just living now...kind of a bummer at first.  I'm a forward/goal making person.  Now I have to be an enjoying/relaxing person--which I'm managing, "a lady of leisure".  Still my creative bug is starting to buzz.  Part of that is writing about whatever the hell I want.  I don't care if you care, blogs are for the person writing them, in my opinion.  This blog is just for me...

Typically, I'm pretty complainy on this blog, I'll try to continue to be a little asshole-ish; I like that, I'm not so much that way in my day to day though my job could handle it if I was--you know doctors are stereotypically douchy but I like being nice to people if I can, more smiles in a 10 hour shift is good for my soul.

Baby Apocalypse: The end of life as we know it...

Day #1:  it's all about adrenaline & excitement, the maiden voyage home.  Baby sleeps a lot.  I worry constantly about whether I should wake the baby or let him sleep....among other paranoias (read on).  James and I stare at, no, we stalk the baby all day long & remark, ad nauseam, about how adorable, cute, handsome, sweet, perfect he is....we're running out of adjectives.  

Novice parent epic poop diaper change #1:  It takes the two of us, a team now, to do so....& it takes about 10 minutes per diaper.  (I am down to about one minute now, for poopie diapers--I am a fast learner with wicked hand-eye coordination).  Rule #1, you must give them time to wrap it up.  Outcome:  well, he continued to poop during the tedious, tenuous diaper transition, right at that exact point....and....and parents lose, Jack 1, parents zero!  Just to rub that shortcoming in, he pees....everywhere, on James, on me....in my eye, IN MY EYE...really; those penis tents don't sound so stupid now.  We laugh & laugh!  

Sleep deprivation:  The first week of parenthood makes residency call look like a vacation.  In one week, I think 20 hours of sleep total is a generous overestimate.  Nighttime fades into a blur of a day which blurs into several days....it's all the same.  I have to check the day today & the time.

So, I feel as though parenthood is a secret society.  No one tells you how hard its going to be; on the other hand, you wouldn't believe it if they did; there are no words to convey this; it's one of those things you just have no idea about until you are inside the experience.  I know all the veteran parents are laughing at us novice parents.  It is quite incredible, surreal (especially if you never really imagined yourself a parent growing up).  We love it, but man, we're exhausted.  

No one tells you that you'll obsess about whether he's breathing & alive every minute that he's sleeping & that every noise is him probably choking & that "...the universe is conspiring to kill my baby, I'm sure" (per James)...that you worry constantly that you will screw something up.  Its worse when you're a physician I think...for about 24 hours I was certain my baby had Maple Syrup Urine Disease....what the...?  I told James--he thought I was losing my mind, who knows, maybe I am, I haven't slept.  I don't think he has MSUD anymore.  Its crazy, the journey that a tired, stressed, anxious, & hopelessly in love mind will wind you through.

He's 10 days old today.  I love that little Jack more than I could ever imagine loving anything in the universe.  Also, I love that man, the one who shares this sentiment toward the object of my affections.  James, I don't have words for the dad he is....lucky, lucky girl.

I am ecstatically happy, beaming.

The plight of the pseudo-retired...

I really, really miss Alaska...


This is actually surprising to me seeing as though I was ready to get the hell outta there, away from the 6 month winters, the unreliable summers, the deficiency of sun dress & sandal wearing (plenty of boot weather though)...the overall deficiency of sunlight. Those sentiments likely had a little to do with my current status (you know, being in the family way) & a lotta to do with finishing residency(a sharp endpoint).  


Durango is great on paper.  There's endless trails; in fact, there's a trail system right outside our door. There's the Animas river which supplies endless fishing, tubing, & rafting (some of the most fun I've ever had), rock climbing (which I'd like to get back into), mountain biking (which I'd love to love)....its quite lovely, really, but it lacks a certain vibe.  I haven't figured it out...Admittedly, I had the vibe in Alaska; it was right when I set foot on the plane headed to Alaska back in 2008.  


Currently, I feel a little like we're floating, waiting....which we are, to some extent, on little Jack's entrance.  I have no sense of home right now; I certainly don't feel that I belong in Colorado, not yet, not today at least.  You know, Texas is my home, & when I'm at the house where I grew up, that feels comfortable, like home that's familiar, not really where you feel you belong though, more where I want to be from. It's too hot to live in Tejas though & too flat & too repulican. 


I don't know, maybe it's because I don't have a set goal for the first time in my life.  My goals are now to pursue my hobbies...you know, sewing, read everything, knit, travel, run my heart out....& oh yes, be the best doctor I can be & oh yeah, be a great mother....& partner, for James.  All important, especially the latter two tasks...more important than anything probably.


I always move to a place with the intention of leaving at some point.  I didn't move to Alaska thinking that; rather, I was hoping to put roots down there, but the possibility of moving on was always right there on the surface for me.  I can't seem to shake that intrinsic character flaw.  Its challenging to exist in a place without an endpoint.   


I wonder, is this what people feel like when they retire?