Anxiety, Airplanes, and Albendazol

Last year I asked how long you mamas have been away from your critters (critters being kids) in hopes to find the inspiration I needed to do a 6-8 week global health rotation. 6-8 weeks turned into four. Four turned into two. (I chickened out of taking my two toddlers to Ecuador alone) Two turned into one when the organization I was going to work with was at capacity. One turned back into two, because goddamn it I am a fearless travel warrior and I'm going to spend a week alone in another country! Well here I am at the end of my two week stent in Panama. I'm laying in a hammock, looking into the lush mangroves, listening to the tropical birds, scratching the sh*t out of my Chitra bitten body. There are two versions of myself. The world traveler who wants to boldly experience life and other cultures. And the anxiety riddled girl whose heart rate is never below 120 on airplanes.

Lately anxiety girl has come out in full force. It started slowly last November when I had a panic attack. I had issues with this before, and thought that chapter of my life was over. Lack of sleep, the new stress of medical school, and stress at home are easy targets to blame.  I filed it away in the "pretend it didn't happen" drawer, along with that time I farted in 8th grade in front of the class. Well, the file kept growing. I didn't have anymore panic attacks, but I became quite anxious.  Most of the day I was ok but had these bolts of anxiety that would shoot up and like a Wac-a-mole game I kept hammering them down. I did a good job at not letting any of it show, but I was tired of constantly having to talk myself out of an anxiety attack. So I ignored popular rumors that seeing a therapist would ruin my career and went to talk to a school counselor for free. The first lady was a bit of a nut job. She told me I needed to pop a Xanax, not to date outside my race (while insisting she's not racists), gave me a list of 5 books to read (I don't have time for books I need legit CBT!), and rambled on and on about Brigg-Myers personalities. She also told my friend she may have a tumor on her adrenal gland, and that she wasn't cut out for medical school. Ya, I didn't go back. Months later I decided to try to school psychologist, for free again. First visit was okay. Just chit chat. Talked about stress. Ya, I'm stressed, but I think I handle it relatively well. Second visit I laid it all out. For the first time I spoke out loud about everything I have been experiencing in the past few months, and I realized how bad it all had gotten. I told her how I can only study in three places, because those are the only places I feel safe. If I try to study at a new coffee shop, I get anxious. I told her about how I had been having to call my dad for reassurance that I was indeed breathing when I felt like I couldn't catch my breath because of anxiety, sometimes at 3am.  About how I was constantly making up these worst case scenarios, like school shootings at my kids daycare, and car accidents when someone else was driving them. About how exams make me feel trapped. About how I was anxious about going to Panama, because I would be away from my safety net.

Just saying these things out loud made me realize that everything I was experiencing was indeed anxiety. This gave me hope. It meant that with therapy, meditation, and self awareness I could perhaps get better. And if that didn't work, a good 'ol SSRI could. She told me every time I am anxious about something bad happening, nothing bad happens. Yes, I'm going to get anxious, but I could use techniques to ensure the anxiety doesn't escalate. So do I want to be anxious at home, or anxious at a beautiful beach in Panama?

So off to Panama I went. The 15 minutes flying through a thunderstorm with lightning outside my window sucked, but I didn't panic. Getting motion sickness on the ten hour bus ride that felt more like riding through the Arctic sucked, but I didn't panic. Spending a day febrile in a room with no A/C or airflow sucked, but I didn't panic. (I went to the nice hotel across the street with ocean view and glass floors) I repeated the phrase "ebb and flow." Just like the tide, anxiety, fear, sickness, storms all come and all go. I would tell myself "this is something that could cause anxiety" so that when I started to feel nervous I knew the trigger, and the anxiety wouldn't escalate.

It's been two weeks, and I've walked hours on beaches, practiced meditative, freeing yoga, saw dolphins and bioluminescence, met some of the most inspirational, well traveled people, helped bring medical care to remote indigenous communities, got laughed at for the way I pronounced my patients names. (all in good fun). All this was completely out of my safety net. This is also what I love about traveling. It forces you to become uncomfortable. In this discomfort is where growth happens.

So now I go home feeling mentally stronger. More a fearless warrior, and less anxiety girl. Another 10 hour bus ride and 4 hour flight until I get to kiss my sweet babies. I hope one day to show them the world as it is. It is complex. It is beautiful. It is unique. It is painful and hard. I hope they learn to be uncomfortable, to move past fear. And I hope to bring back only memories from this trip, and not worms or Leishmaniasis.

Reasons to Wear Lipstick.

It's a peculiar thing being a single mom, 30, and a first year medical student. At the med school parties, I'm 8 years older than everyone. In the hospital, I'm 8 years behind on my training than physicians my own age. At my kid's daycare, I am that parent that hasn't a clue it was my turn to pay for pizza Friday, or it's the teachers birthday. The other non-traditional parents in my class live with supportive spouses, so it is hard to fully relate to anyone. I like the uniqueness of my life, and on multiple occasions do classmates and strangers tell me how inspiring I am. But, I also admit it is quite lonely.  I moved into a new apartment with my 2 and 3 year-old last year. It was the first time I had to live alone with two toddlers. My life was study, change diapers, study, take the kids to beach, study, clean, study, yell at toddlers to stop drawling on the walls, study... It was a crazy adjustment, but I rocked it, mostly, after I found a good balance between those two heavy identities of mum and med student. (Finding that balance took a lot of tears, complete break downs, sleepless nights, fits of being woken by crying toddlers at 4am before a final, lots of use of a babysitter etc. etc). After three months of nothing but late night study sessions in the library, alternating with being Mom, I wanted an escape. Something fun. Something easy. Something to take my mind off of my chaotic life and make me feel like a normal human again. So I got on Tinder. Yes, that awful addicting dating app/hook up site for people like me who are incapable of meeting someone the old fashion way through mutual friends or some serendipitous moment in a coffee shop. The swiping happened, the chatting started, and the harmless fun of it was a light and easy way to wind down at the end of the night. Like how normal people watch TV, I ask completely random attractive men about their lives. I finally got ballsy enough to meet these completely random attractive men in real life. Of course only on weekends after tests when I didn't have to study as much. My basic day to day attire was messy bun and yoga pants, so it was so nice to wear real clothes again! I went Salsa dancing on the beach with a CT surgeon, played board games at a bar with a teacher, picnicked by the water with wine and a book with an IT guy, watched a play with a lawyer, drank more wine and watched the sunset with a pediatrician. It had been 5 years since I dated, and the timing of course is terrible as being a mom and med student makes an impossible girlfriend. But the experience, fun, and connections are just what I need to take me out of my diaper/molecular biology bubble.

Turns out some of my classmates are also on Tinder, so now study breaks consist of swiping and comparing baes (yes I started saying bae, I hang out with 22 year olds). Definitely no Mr. Right in the near future, but I will update y'all if anything crazy happens. Not crazy like the time my date showed up hammered after 5 shots of Whiskey. Just hoping for more wine, sunsets, good conversations, and a reason to wear lipstick.

What are y'alls reasons to wear lipstick?

First Week of Medical School, and Our Uninvited Guest.

Medical school is starting up, and I have my game face on. I've moved into my new apartment with the tots (1.5 and 3yrs), and mapped out every second of every day. Wake at 6 am, take the dog out, shower, pack lunches, wake kids, dress them, and head out the door by 7 am. I soon discovered this was a little ambitious. My kids are used to getting up at 8, 9, 10am. No problem, I have to learn to be flexible, and moldable, like I said I was in my medical school essays. I tweak the schedule to start at 530am, and the kids adjust. I have interviewed multiple babysitters for evening and weekend help and found an amazing woman who is the mother of a 3rd year medical student at my school, so I know she can't be crazy. I have her come nightly the week before orientation starts so the kids can get adjusted. They love her, I love her, she loves us. Having this help reassures me that I CAN do this. Then life happens, and my first day of orientation she falls and injures her back. I'm relieved she is OK, but she will be out for 6 weeks. No problem. I am this flexible, moldable metal right? I'm flexible damn it! AND I prepared. I have multiple back up sitters with one who can step in immediately. Then my internet doesn't work, no problem, I can complete my last minute assignment using my phone, it just takes twice as long. The treadmill at my apartments don't work. That's OK, I can walk around the block. The washing machines are out. No worries, flexible, moldable, calm, cool me has enough clothes for the week. I will just wash them at my parents house on the weekend. I'm trying to be this person who has it all together, and for the most part, I am playing the part. I replay "Just keep swimming" from Finding Nemo in my head as I try not to let the little things unravel me. I like order, I like control, I like plans, but I know these things will continue to happen and if I want to be successful I have to let them go.

But no amount planning could have prepared me for what was going to happen the weekend after orientation. A category 4 Hurricane (quite uninvitedly) hit our coast and caused devastation 200 miles south. Our first 2 days of classes were cancelled, then the whole week was cancelled, then after Harvey died down to a tropical storm, classes were resumed as our administrators assumed we were out of the waters. My kids 'daycare was still closed, so I slightly panicked as I tried to find childcare for the week.  There was no need to panic, I have lots of back ups. I'm still learning to stay cool. 

But the admin spoke too soon. The city that I have called home was drowned overnight in what is being called catastrophic, historic flooding. All of a sudden my plans didn't matter. I watched on Facebook live feeds as friends of mine were rescued from their houses that had become an island surrounded by water.  I watched a local news crew drive through the streets near my house, near my kids' old daycare, in a boat. I watched the roads I take regularly become rivers. Addresses of people who needed rescue kept popping up on my Next-door and Facebook feed. Businesses were lost. Homes were lost. Lives were lost.

I also saw a tremendous outpouring as locals responded to a call for help. People brought their boats to help with the rescue efforts. Impromptu shelters have popped up all over town. Donations are being brought. Neighbors are offering their homes to those who have lost. My neighbor across the street went out in a row boat, rescuing elderly a few blocks away who were trapped in flooded homes. Those of us who were safe helped coordinate boats to pick up those who were stranded. The Cajun Navy from Louisiana even showed up immediately. Many friends of mine, including my kids' dad, are on day 3 of 4, or 5 working in the hospitals, or as first responders. My old coworkers are evacuating the hospital where I learned to be a nurse. They are strong, and resilient. They are flexible and moldable. I could use a few lessons from them. 

It's still raining here, it's not over. Evacuations and rescues are still taking place. For now, I am safe at my mom's house, an hour away from Houston. The tots are enjoying their time with grandma and grandpa. My sister is stuck in her apartment, but stocked up on chips and water for a week. Our home in Houston didn't take in water, and my apartment in Galveston is fine. I have no idea what is going to happen next. I don't know when the rain will stop, when my classes will start, who will watch my kids, if they are going to try to shove 8 weeks of Gross Anatomy and Radiology down our throats in 7 weeks, or if they are going to take away our Christmas break to make up for it. It doesn't matter. It only matters that my city and surrounding areas stay safe, and soon we will come together to rebuild and restrengthen. I'll be getting a sledge hammer to help with rebuilding, and I'm sure I'll still be singing "Just keep swimming" when I start knocking down walls. It seems like an appropriate song. 

What is the longest you have been away from your kids?

I posted this question on my local mom's Facebook page, and answers were either never, or 3-5 days. The exception being one mom who left for 2 months to do field research. She describes the experience as horrible. So basically I didn't get the external validation I was looking for. I am about to start medical school and am thinking ahead to away rotations, as well as being heavily involved in our large Global Health program, which requires 4-6 weeks away two separate times.

So what about you mamas? How long have you been away? Was it for work, school, pleasure? How did you manage? How did you feel about it? Would you do it again?

Greetings from TXgal

Howdy wonderful MIM community!

I am excited to have joined MIM as a regular contributor this year! I’m TXgal, a name fitting not only because I am from the great state of Texas, but also because I have been trying to escape it for years. One thing or another has kept me here: being close to family, landing an awesome job after graduation, the low cost of living, having babies, and now it’s the ridiculously low medical school tuition when compared to other states. Jealous yet? You don’t have to be, it is freaking hot. But I am starting to accept that this is home, and even loving it!

I am 29, and in 6 months I will be 30. This never bothered me until last month when I looked in the mirror and I saw wrinkles. I won't go into how much grey hair I have. I always thought I would age with grace and acceptance, but right now I am longing to be 25, rocking my pre-baby body. I am also starting medical school in 2 months, which I imagine will only accelerate the aging process. (Especially frown lines). Both of these things have got me in hammer mode. Last 2 months of freedom before starting the rigorous path of medicine, and last two months of freedom in my 20's. I have got to get the best body of my life, meditate, read, write, start my blog, finish projects around the house, learn Spanish, do all the hobbies I won't be able to do once school starts, stop wasting time on Facebook, teach my kids to swim, potty train etc. etc. etc.

But I am also beyond excited to start medical school. I am a non-traditional student with a background in nursing. I landed my dream job right out of nursing school at a Level I trauma ER. The first day of my new job the charge nurse gave me some advice. I didn't listen to her. She said don't date ANYONE here. Not the doctors, not the cops, not the paramedics, or firemen. Especially not the doctors. Perhaps I should have listened. But I fell for a resident, and after a year of dating I got pregnant with my son. Thanks Plan B. What a little darling he is. Into my life he came, and out went all my plans. Like many other premed students, I am a control freak. I like order. I like plans. No, I NEED plans to function. I was going to do a year of travel nursing, and spend a year abroad working for MSF, and then go to medical school, and somewhere far down the road, far, far, FAR down the road I would start a family. I quit my job as a nurse and stayed home with my son while completing my pre-med courses. This was a difficult time for me. It was lonely, and isolating. The entire time my head was spinning with thoughts like "how will I be a good doctor AND a good mom?" "How will I go to med school with a baby?" "When should I go? When he is 2 or 10?" "How will I ever work for MSF?" "Maybe I could just be a stay-at-home mom, or a nurse, or a teacher, or a wildlife photographer, or a stripper." The thoughts literally and metaphorically made me dizzy. (This is when I discovered this LIFE SAVING blog)

I have learned a lot since then. I learned that I am not a stay-at-home mom. I learned to let go of control over my kids. That they are OK, and even thrive at their daycare. They are OK with a sitter, and they are OK at grandma’s. They LOVE grandma. I learned to find balance in school/family life. Yes the load in premed isn't anything like med school, but I learned some tricks. Like don't even attempt to study around the kids unless you want scribbles all over your books. And, don't expect to take a 7 hour timed practice MCAT test and score well with a newborn in lap, so GET A SITTER! Also-DON'T. LAY. DOWN. You WILL fall asleep. Oh, 15 months after my son was born, my daughter came along. Another unplanned little darling.

I am also grateful. I originally got accepted into a program 800 miles away. BD (baby daddy) would have had to stay in our current city for work, and I would be leaving two sets of wonderful grandparents. 2 weeks before our moving van was scheduled to whisk me away with 2 toddlers to start med school alone in a new city, I got an acceptance to a school close to home at an institution known for its (relatively) laid back atmosphere, and relaxed schedule. I am so grateful for this. I am grateful I have so much support from BD, my parents, and BD's family. Grateful to my 26 year old self who continued to complete premed classes despite being so uncertain, who started studying for the MCAT with a 2 weeks old (and eventually got a sitter). Grateful for my kids' teachers, and babysitters that fill their day with joy.

So now as I move closer to med school, I am no longer dizzy with thoughts of uncertainty. I know it'll be crazy, and stressful, and hard. But I know I cannot see myself doing anything else. (Even if sometimes I wish I could). I know at times I will miss my kids, but they are surrounded by friends and family that love and care for them as much as I do. And the obsessing over the wrinkles? I know it’s a phase. They are beautiful just like my grey hairs. Who would really want to be 20 again anyway?

-TXgal


The Shorter version:

TXgal is an about to be 30 year old, nontraditional, incoming MS1 with two toddlers (born 2014 and 2015) and a nontraditional life living with her supportive BD (baby daddy). She has spent the past three years pregnant, or breastfeeding while completing her pre-med classes, and MCAT. After years of uncertainty, she is happy to start medical school knowing there is nothing else she can see herself doing, (well maybe a photographer for NatGeo, but that’ll come later) She is forever newly discovering how she identifies as a mom, individual, almost 30 year old, and soon to be medical student, and looks forward to blogging about the joys, struggle, stress, and victories in finding this balance. She also has a gazillion hobbies, and likes that include: gardening, yoga, reading, coffee, rock climbing, running, traveling, hiking, visiting National Parks, photography, healthy eating, Latin dancing, planning her life, re-planning her life after plans fail, family vacations, studying, and watching NatGeo with toddlers, cheering for the prey when they get away.