Unpacking

Thirty six hours after our things arrived in Edmonton, we are well underway in the unpacking process. Several realizations have come to me as I sift through the multitude of cartons in my new home:

1) A modern move requires literally a small forest of paper. I have never seen so much paper in my entire life. There are to date at least 10 large boxes that are packed tight with the paper that our stuff was packed in. I look at the heap and I cringe at how “un-green” the whole thing is. Overall its probably better than buying all new things, especially since the paper will be recycled, but its still guilt provoking.

2) Having a well organized house prior to moving makes unpacking much much simpler.

3) We have a lot of stuff.

4) No matter how much stuff you have, every move requires you to buy more stuff whether its cables, small pieces of furniture or simply a dust pan. Its aggravating but true.

5) Putting things away and organizing them gives me a feeling of satisfaction.

Resist the temptation of the "special"

Why do we spend money on things we don’t need or even want? What about the marketing industry is so powerful that it usurps even the most grounded among us?

Take tonight at dinner for example. We don’t have our things yet from the moving company, so we were out for dinner. The waitress told us that the house brew was on special, and that it was similar to a Stella. After a busy day we figure a beer would be nice. But for some reason instead of ordering a beer we know we will like, in the hopes of saving a dollar we both order the special. And let me tell you, it was no good.

One of the life principles I have adopted is that life is too short to consume things you don’t enjoy. This presumes of course that there are options, and that you are not in a situation of poverty or service. Sometimes it takes an extra effort, or extra self control. Sometimes its awkward to send something back at a restaurant. But when given the chance, even if it costs a little more, its better to enjoy your food and drink. Eddie taught me this. I never used to send things back at restaurants because I felt like I was insulting the server or the kitchen; but now I realize that if you are paying for the food or the service you are allowed to voice your opinion.

This not buying what you don’t need or don’t want applies to more than food too. Sales have the power to seduce us, and often I think they wind up causing us to spend more money not actually less. Its one thing to buy toilet paper in bulk because its on sale, because even if you don’t need it now, you will. Its quite another to buy pants you don’t really like because they were a good price, or a kitchen gadget you never considered owning before because it was on sale at costco, or granola bars you don’t ordinarily eat because they were 20 for a dollar. If you don’t need it or want it, you won’t use it.

So adhering to this principle we sent the beer back and ordered some Kilkenny. And they were good. And when we got the bill at the end of the night, she didn’t even charge us for the beer we didn’t drink.

Camping in the Urban Jungle

Our only dishes are some paper plates, and plastic cups and cutlery, as the moving company is not delivering our stuff until tomorrow. Thankfully I had a few plastic containers that served as make-shift bowls for breakfast this morning.

When we arrived in Edmonton yesterday our first stop was to the big box area to buy a guest room bed, with the hopes of same day delivery so we could sleep on it until our bed arrived! Apparently we missed the same day delivery cut off by about 30 minutes. No bed for us last night. Subsequently we found what may in fact be the largest Walmart in western Canada, and there we got a Coleman airbed and pump. Surprisingly it was a pretty decent sleep!

In the last 24 hours we have stumbled onto some great finds in our neighbourhood. We found a pet store that sells our kind of dog food, a fantastic bakery with amazing croissants, and an Italian restaurant that served the best penne arribiatta we’ve had in years. The city of Edmonton is definitely making the transition smoother.

What makes a place home? According to Eddie, home is where you sh#t the most. Its a complex concept. I feel at home here with Eddie and the dogs. Part of me yearns for our home in Saskatoon, but the physical space while still there, is no longer home. Our things are not there, our employment is not there. Is it where ever you make it? Can you have a home for a time? I think Edmonton will feel like home while we are here, mostly because we will work hard to have our house be a sanctuary, a place we can rest and rejuvenate. However part of me will always think of my parent’s house as home, and part of me will always consider Saskatoon as home.

I want to make a better effort to live in the now, to not always be looking ahead to the future. Maximize the living for each day. The balance between being content and striving to achieve has always alluded me, but I am going to try in earnest to find it.

Pack it up

June 20, 2010 - Moving... again.

The moving company came today and in a swift, efficient manner packed up all our worldly possessions, in about 5 hours. Tomorrow the truck comes to get all our things and we will be on the road to Edmonton. It is un-nerving seeing our house practically empty.

It feels like the most grown-up venture to date, moving to another province for work/training. Eddie and I are sitting on our deck enjoying the afternoon sun for one of the last times in our first house together. The freshly painted fence gleams a refreshing white, and the simple act of sitting together outside is calming.

This move is bittersweet. We love our home, the city, our family and friends. Saskatoon is where our hearts reside, and where we first put down roots as a family together. So many great things have happened over the past three years: my sister and I are closer than we have ever been before, we've made a ton of great family memories, Eddie and I have had fantastic vacations, I've developed confidence in my professional abilities, we've bought our first house, our first pets, I've discovered a passion for cooking, the list goes on. Part of me is sad to leave.

And yet its time to go. I know that. We've finished our residencies here, and we're not ready for independent practice so we have to move to where we can finish, and become the physicians we are meant to be.

Apparently part of happiness is growth and adapting to new situations, we're on our way!

And I'm so glad I married a man who makes me laugh every single day. When I was wistfully looking around at our boxes, Eddie quipped " oh well, home is where you s#*t the most!"

Waiting

I think the hardest thing is to wait for something you have no control over. The more important the thing, the harder the wait. Most recently for me it was what we are going to do with our house in Saskatoon when we move to Edmonton. You can't control when a buyer will make an offer on your house. You can't control when a normal responsible tenant will answer your ad "house for rent".

Today I am waiting for the beamline to be operational. Three of my last four beamline shifts for my research project have had beam interruptions.

Wait! Overhead "Beam available" --- Back to work

Home-Body

A weekend at home. For the first time in almost two months, Eddie and I have a weekend at home where neither of us is on call! How lovely to just be able to unwind, to be, to relax without traveling, working or sleeping in a different bed. We took the dogs to the park for a long walk today which was exhilarating. They run and play with reckless abandon and such exuberance, I can't help but laugh out loud watching.

I can't wait for a simpler time when we are finished our training, finished our exams, and we have more control over our time. Finished=freedom! Only four more years to go. When I started, I never imagined that I would end up doing subspecialty practice, interested in research. Yet here I am ten years (yikes) after high school and still four years away from independent practice. As a fellow resident and friend said, "My thirties are going to be the best decade. Finished residency, starting to earn money, and still youthful." We have sacrificed our twenties to the beast of medical education, so there's got to be a light at the end of the tunnel.

I just hope we have a relaxing, calming home in Edmonton.

Melancholy

Moving. Change. Melancholy.

This is the time that we are supposed to be putting down roots, a foundation on which our adult lives will flourish and bloom. Instead we spend our months moving, always picking up our lives to transiently be in a new place, all in the name of distributed medical education. In the past two years I have spent 1 month in Toronto, 2 separate months in Edmonton, a month in Prince Albert, a month in Regina. And now we are in the process of packing up, up rooting as it were, to move to Edmonton.

Edmonton will be good. Its a great city. That's not the point. Its taxing on the soul to move, to extricate oneself from the social network that you are enmeshed in. We are social creatures, not meant to live in isolation. And while we are away, the void that we leave behind, will be filled in, such that when we come back in time our lives will have changed. Nothing is ever the same when you leave it for years at a time.

I am happy for the opportunity to train to do what I desire to do. My soul is melancholy at the cost.

We should all live in Hawaii

Vacation in Hawaii is taking an escape to paradise. When I am there my worldly cares melt away in the glorious sunshine, and the ocean washes away my worries. The colours are so vibrant, so vivid there, it makes home seem to be missing the full spectrum, with only a drab version of the truth behind.

It was wonderful, but O so not long enough! A week that slipped away as quickly as the Hawaiian sunset, making me yearn for longer. We stayed in a condo on the beach with my parents, and I swam in the ocean at least twice everyday. It was our first time there during whale season, and they were spectacular. We saw sea turtles almost everyday when we were snorkelling. And the food was divine.

I tried to convince Eddie we should move there, no luck.

Delayed in Transit

I will preface with "I know I can't complain, we are on our way to Hawaii", however--we are waiting in Vancouver to board our plane and:

"Due to the high winds in Vancouver we have a weight and balance issue, and we require 9 people to volunteer to give up their seats. We will arrange for a travel voucher and hotel in Vancouver for tonight..."

Now ordinarily I would game to be a volunteer, a good samaritan etc. However vacation time for us is precious, and I am not about to volunteer to give up a day in paradise. And yes most people would likely provide the same rationale for not volunteering their seats, but I think we will likely be stubborn on this one! I wonder what the policy is for deciding if no one volunteers, if everyone is grounded?

So here we sit, delayed, going no where fast. A nearby child wails, I hear you kid, I agree! I hope we make it out of Vancouver tonight.

Its been a long while

I don't know if anyone is even reading this blog anymore, unlikely since its been sooo long since I posted. My honeymoon feels like a lifetime ago as three years of internal medicine residency have taken its toll.

However, as I near the end of my core internal medicine training, I feel as desire to reconnect with that soulful life loving me that was three years ago. Years of sleepless nights and dealing with people at their darkest hour has wisened me but also hardened me, and I need to find the spirit of that young girl who wanted to find the best in people.

That all said, here we go.

I told a middle aged man this week that he had wide spread cancer. He went to the doctor for some minor complaint, his GP decided to do blood work... low sodium, equals investigations as to why and one week later... cancer. Life is too fragile, here today, gone in an instant. Easy to forget that while this is just another day at work for me, I have changed his life forever. While only the messanger--I didnt cause the cancer--when I see the look in his eyes, his wife's tears, I have to steel myself to be composed and compassionate. In that moment it feels like it is I not the disease that is causing their anguish. How does one reconcile being the human in that room with being the "professional" who is supposed to maintain a distance? The easy answer is to learn how not to feel, but this has consequences too. The hard answer I am still learning.

We are in Regina this month, all part of distributed medical education. The title of this blog is still appropriate! In the past few months I've been to Las Vegas, New Orleans, Edmonton, Mayan Riviera (brother in law got married!), and next to Hawaii! The adventures don't seem as grand as they did a few years ago, but they are still happening. Thank goodness for vacation.