Integration

Since living and working in Richmond, sometimes its felt like my Waco and Chicago experiences didn't come along with me, like those people don't exist. And of course they still do, I just have trouble corresponding/accessing them, especially when I get wrapped up in my work here. I miss my friends, pretty much all the time, and sort of miss that version of Diana. It's not that I have a totally singular focus on work since living in Richmond, but I don't seem to have the energy like I did last year. The emotional output of this kind of work seems to be so much more, or my professional development seems to have a more rapid pace and a steeper slope or something. I spend my time in a more fragmented way after work, a couple hours a week with my workout buddies, a few hours at Pilates, time here and there doing errands/cleaning, time with the guy I'm dating, several hours a week on my dissertation. I vacationed in short spurts during the fall semester.

And then December 19th, Emily came to town! I picked her up at Dulles and we spent unadulterated time on I-95 South, stuck in traffic, and then for the rest of the weekend. It reminded me of our 1870 Orrington Avenue and our 1940 Sherman Avenue years together. Even though I like to think we have more sophisticated lives now, our activities and behavior hasn't changed that much. We listened to music, went to a bar basically to chat over red wine and appetizers (much like our Bar Louie nights in undergrad with martinis and guacamole), we shopped for HOURS, and went to Target. It was so refreshing to feel like things actually haven't changed that much, even though its 4 years later and I live in Richmond, VA while she lives in Paris. As if her visit to Richmond wasn't wonderful enough, Richmond became a Bermuda triangle that weekend for close friends of mine from different points in my life. Anthony drove into Richmond Saturday night late and stayed with me. Emily departed Sunday afternoon, and then Sunday evening Anthony and I met Jay and his family for dinner to celebrate Jay's (second) Master's degree. Being with Jay's family once again was awesome...I feel like an extended family member, and it seemed like Thanksgiving had just been the week before. After dinner we all Christmas shopped at Macy's and Anthony and I got to gab for a few hours before going to bed.
I had the feeling through the weekend of "oh, this is who I am."

Not too long ago I articulated to Will how stressful it is for me to integrate people from different parts of my life. I get really anxious and hypervigilant and constantly scan the scene to make sure everyone's having a good experience. Which usually means I don't have a good experience and don't want to do it very often. But my Bermuda triangle weekend was really refreshing, and I went back to work totally excited to finish out the last few days before driving home for Christmas. Tuesday the 23rd I got out of work at 5, drove home and loaded up the car with cats in tow and went down to Raleigh. I arrived completely exhausted and crawled into bed. The next four days were filled with a laundry list of replenishing activities (long walks, reading multiple books, watching movies, taking long walks, wrapping gifts). I got to have lunch with Jena and another childhood friend Carly. We gathered annually during middle and high school for Christmas celebrations and I hadn't seen Carly in years, so this lunch was a particular treat. Like my time with Emily, our lunch was rife with childhood patterns- gossip, talk of boys, funny stories, reminiscing about the years before- and I realized how much I like the people that my friends and I have become. I super proud to introduce them to each other, because I feel they are an extension of me, and in turn I am proud of the person I have become since those awkward high school years.

On the 29th, the restful part of the holiday was over. Travel begun. I flew to NYC early early on the 29th to meet Will and his family. I hadn't seen him since August. What ensued was nearly a week of talking, sight-seeing, traveling, laughing, reminiscing, updating, and more talking. It felt like we talked to each for a week straight in a variety of different contexts: in NYC exploring on our own, in NYC with his parents and brother, in Raleigh with my parents, downtown Raleigh for New Year's on our own, revisiting some of last year's haunts, in Richmond, in Richmond meeting Mark. By Sunday, I was completely worn out. I had been with people bascially since December 19th without a break. I took him to the airport on January 4th, went home and promptly went to sleep.

[Insert humorous anecdote about New Year's Eve make up here.] Will got me this huge gift certificate for hair/makeup for Christmas this year, because I like to get really dressed up for New Year's. I got my hair done, with no problem. Then I sat down at the make up station-- now bear in mind this is the salon I've been to since I was 14. I've had the same exact hairdresser and have recognized most of the employees each year in the last ten years...the owner is the same, and since I've moved away from NC I probably go to the salon least once a year and maybe even more because I love my stylist so much. Anyway, I am having my make up done by Ferial, who has been there forever too. She's about 3/4 done with my look and this new hairdresser (who's name I later found out is Bryce, what a bullshit name) is working with a client nearby. He keeps giving Ferial a hard time and teasing her...except he's teasing her about the make up she's putting on me. Like, "oh! here comes the clown make up..." and comments about transvetite makeup, etc. It really hurt my feelings and started to make me question whether or not the make up looked good. And this was not an inexpensive salon service to get. I kept checking in the mirror, consistently confirming that the make up looked great, and that I did not in fact have "clown make up" on, and confirmed that I indeed did not look like a transvestite. I noticed Bryce was sort of a snot to his own client too. I got really internally upset but didn't say anything or really process it because I thought I might cry and ruin the make up- which I really loved when I saw the final product. So I didn't say anything to anyone, including the owner who kept running back and forth through the salon. I got in the car with Will and told him what had happened in an angry tone so my eyes wouldn't well up with tears. It really hurt my feelings and it took me at least 10 minutes sitting in the chair to figure out why I was having a bad experience at a place where I've historically had only good ones. Then I got mad that Bryce with his bullshit name could ruin a salon experience for me. You just don't tease women about the look their getting at a salon! I go there to feel better about myself, not worse!!! So, I didn't let Will go back in there and say anything, I just wanted to go home. I did however put my mom on the case of writing a nasty letter, because she does that so well. I didn't feel like doing it myself because I wanted to stay somewhat detached to preserve my make up, but also point out the injustice and the shitty customer service. What I didn't anticipate is that she would get on the phone with the owner right then and there when I arrived home. Her Mama Bear voice came out as she informed the owner that "some asshole with blond hair and a beard" made me feel bad about my make up with his insensitive and unprofessional joking.Profuse apologies were forthcoming. A gift card for the full amount is waiting for me at the salon. Someone is going to talk to Bryce.

[Cut to real life again, sans make up---it washed off hours ago--]
I have continued to sleep long hours. Work has been exhausting, probably due to the transition back, and because my patient has been very demanding. I took her to have major oral surgery on Monday, and have been supervising her care since. We went to up to Northern Virginia yesterday for a group home interview, and I facilitated a much anticipated home pass for her sister's birthday with about a dozen medications and pages of instructions for dental care in tow. After all of the build up and preparation, and literally every staff member in the building who knows of and cares about this kid asking me how the interview went, I found out that she was not accepted into the group home. It may be hard for those outside of my job to understand the devastation that resulted for me, but rest assured, it was powerful. I sort of crumpled, and put my head on my desk where I sat motionless for a long time til my friend Shawn roused me from my disappointed trance. I worked today to generate new placement ideas and submitted one application online. Because our hospital is now only made up of acute units, its no longer suitable for my patient. I'm looking for a step-down facility that can help her transition home in the next 6 months. The group home seemed to be perfect, nearby the family home, in a nice part of town with excellent services and a great reputation. I didn't have a backup plan, because after much research and conversation with their program director, it seemed like an excellent fit. I feel like I only applied early decision to one college and got turned down. The real pain comes from the fact I have to break it to her and the staff that have been rooting for her....Monday. I told my team this morning in rounds because I needed the support, but I made it clear that it was a secret until I could tell my patient on Monday. No need to ruin the home pass with bad news.

I can't say the entire week has been trying. I read two of my recommenders' letters for my post doc applications and have yet again been bowled over by people's comments about me and my work. I submitted two applications (Harvard Med School and Mt. Sinai Hospital), and have four to go. Mark and I tried a new sushi restaurant and loved it. My job description for the next 6 months has been clarified, and there should be no more changes (fingers crossed). I now work on the coolest team on the acute unit with people I really, really like. I also have spent a considerable amount of time on my own, watching tv and doing laundry. I am hooked on Clean House on the Style channel, hosted by Niecey Nash. We have a staff member who looks like, sounds like and "hmmphs" like Niecey and I can't get over how funny she is. I realize I have gravitated towards other light, resolution-focused programs too, like What Not to Wear.

It's 5:00 on Friday. I made it to the weekend.