David Brooks: I am Infuriated!

Has anyone else read this recent column in the New York Times by David Brooks?

"The Sandra Bullock Trade"
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/30/opinion/30brooks.html?src=me&ref=homepage

Ladies--I encourage you to check this out and join in the furor.

The basic premise of this op-ed piece (in my interpretation anyways) is that there is no way to find both professional happiness and personal happiness--there is always a trade-off between one and the other.  The infuriating Mr. Brooks goes on to postulate that actually, being married is the only thing that matters in a person's overall happiness.

B.S.

I feel like Mr. Brooks has been sharing notes with my ex-boyfriend!  Like I said in my first blog post, why are female surgeons "unhappy?"  It's because, for some reason, there is a sense in the general public that professional and personal success are mutually exclusive, at least for women.  That women who have professional ambitions, and are achieving them, will never be able to enjoy the same success in their personal lives.

Where I think Mr. Brooks is wrong is that ultimately, most people, men and women alike, are looking for a balance between meaningful, rewarding work and a stable, fulfilling home life.  It's not really an either/or choice.

I applaud Sandra Bullock for her Academy Award, and the premise that her work "drove away" her husband is ridiculous.  I sure as heck would rather be single and successful than be with someone who breaks me down.  Now that I have had some time and distance, I can finally see that in my own life.

Sandra's lying, cheating ex is such an idiot.  He can't be with a beautiful, smart, talented woman, and she obviously deserves better.

As all of us beautiful, smart, talented women do...we're here for you Sandra.

What Kind of Man Should a Female Surgeon Be With?

Today I was in the operating room with one of my favorite attendings.  It seems we always chat about various life issues in the OR--probably because he has an interesting clientele of patients that bring up various...well, reproductive issues.

So, somehow, the topic of my singledom came up.  (Full disclosure...make-up/break-up was a rotating student in our department when I met him and everyone knew who he was.)  We discussed how things didn't work out with make-up/break-up, essentially because he thought I was too career-minded and wouldn't settle down.

Vehemently, my attending stated, "You need to be with a non-physician."

He felt that as I'm choosing an academic career path, I need to be with a guy who would be okay with gallivanting off to meetings, willing to stay home with the kids, and basically function as a house husband.  Being with another physician, he believed, would just lead to too many time and marital issues relating to sharing of responsibilities.

Hmmm...my live-in ex-fiance was a writer.  Not a very successful writer.  He had a lot of time on his hands while he was "creating."  What he was creating is unknown to me, because I think it was all in his head.  Nary a manuscript crossed my path.  However, despite his abundance of time at home, I still was in charge of the household.  Cooking, cleaning, grocery shopping, bills.  Then add medical school to the mix.

Needless to say, resentment started building.  Things didn't work out between us for many reasons, but his lack of proactivity was definitely one of them.  I don't mind the idea of being with a non-physician, but let's face it...physicians are generally motivated, proactive, and get stuff done.  I don't care about the profession, I care about a partnership and sharing in the responsibilities.

Ultimately, part of the fun of being single again is that I have no idea what sort of person will cross my path each day.  I don't know what kind of profession the ultimate guy is going to be part of.  There are many things I don't know about this mystery person, but one thing I do know is that they will have to be proactive, somewhat adventurous, love to travel, and be a bit on the crazy side.

P.S. If there are any guys out there who meet that description, and live in the Eastern Time Zone, feel free to shoot me a message!  ;)

The First Day of Spring

Yesterday, I woke up and realized that I didn't miss make-up/break-up anymore. 

Do you remember that great episode of My So-Called Life when Claire Danes' character, Angela, is totally over her crush, Jordan Catalano (played by the hunky Jared Leto), and she dances like a free, mad woman to the Violent Femmes' "Blister in the Sun?"

Yeah.  That's how I felt when I woke up yesterday.  I have basically been feeling sorry for myself for the past two months (aargh, has it really been that long??)...but then, this week, I just got sick of being pathetic.  Was it coincidence that yesterday was the first day of spring?  The equinox?  A day on which light and dark are equal, and then, ever so slowly, the light starts to take over?

Okay, I'm so not that kind of breezy, new-age gal.  But somehow, spring has bloomed in my mind.  I suddenly started to feel excited about all of the things in my life that I should have been excited about for the past few months--finishing residency, moving to an exciting city in the Eastern Time Zone, my brilliant sister's impending nuptials, a coming trip...even my fellowship research project that is currently budding.

Though it was actually snowing here on the first day of spring, somewhere in my heart and mind, there were daffodils.  For the past two months, it felt like this day would never come, but it's amazing what the tincture of time has done for my broken heart.  With each day since the break-up, I have for once truly put time and thought into healing.  With each day, I have quietly, without even knowing it, become a little bit stronger.

Now, do I feel like I could grow another relationship yet?  Not so much.  But like a spring tulip, there's always the chance of rebirth.

The Doctor's Wife

Last Friday, I went out to dinner with one of the former chief residents and his wife.  They were back in town visiting some friends.  We herded up a few current residents and went to our favorite local fancy, not too fancy, restaurant.  He and his wife brought a couple bottles of wine, and a few glasses in, began to regale us with stories of the fabulous life in private practice...namely, all of the wonderful things that his wife had bought now that she had money to spend.

I have always been fascinated by this woman.  They were high school sweethearts, got married shortly before or during medical school.  Then they moved here to the Central Time Zone and started having kids.  Three of them--one during med school and then 2 during residency.  She quit her job as a dietitian when he started residency, and became a stay-at-home mom. 

She is working hard, raising the three kids while her husband is at work all day.  They bought the biggest house in their town and she recently purchased a $4000 washer/dryer set.  All though dinner, my former chief resident picked (in a joking way) at her spending habits, now that he was making the big bucks.

I recently started watching Mad Men, a great 1960's drama on AMC, and have become fascinated by the idea of the "housewife."  Seeing the chief and his wife together on Friday reminded me of this.  The 1960's housewife who cooks, entertains, always hair coiffed and nails done, and takes care of the kids.

I am fascinated because I know I could never be a housewife.  I don't understand the appeal and I feel like it's an unequal partnership in this day and age.  I like making my own money and having my own say about what happens to it.  I sure wouldn't spend $4000 on a washing machine, even when I'm an attending!  I don't think I could enjoy spending someone else's money either.

And perhaps it's the same independent streak that got me into surgery in the first place, but I don't think I could rely on someone to be the sole breadwinner either. 

It is an existence that is utterly opposite my own. 

There is a downside though.  Are educated men more interested in being with women who embrace this kind of lifestyle?

The make-up/break-up thought that I would always put my career ahead of family, and that I wouldn't want children, or that I wouldn't have time to have them because I would always be building my career.  It was one of the many reasons we broke up--he didn't think I would ever "settle down."  I think it is a common misconception that women who are ambitious in their career aren't ambitious in their personal lives as well. 

Breaking Up is Hard to Do: Part Two

It's been a little over three weeks since the official breakup with make-up/break-up and I joined my sister and some girlfriends for a leisurely brunch and Bloody Mary's at a local hot spot.  My dear, wonderful sister came out to visit from the Eastern Time Zone to cheer me up, keep me company...and keep me from picking up the iPhone to text/call/Facebook the make-up/break-up.

Today, our discussion revolved around that age-old conundrum about breakups:

To be in contact...or not to be in contact...that is the question.

Make-up/break-up is an avid Facebooker.  I update my status about once a week and check in once or twice a day despite the fact that it is easily and constantly accessible on my iPhone.  I do enjoy Facebook because it's a great way to keep in touch with the majority of my close friends who actually reside in cities outside my own.  However, in relationships, it can be a tangled web.

Make-up/break-up blocked me on Facebook for a brief time in the first week after the breakup.  It hurt...a lot, but in some ways, I saw it as a blessing.  No more temptation to check on what he's doing, who he's friending, and who he's posting pics with.  Then, we had one totally disastrous phone call in which he admitted what he did and then proceeded to be angry with me about the whole situation.  And...the crying lump of girl came out again.  Aargh.

After that, I decided that I wasn't ready to talk to him on the phone.  In trying to be the bigger person, I accepted his repeat request to be my friend on Facebook despite my trepidation.  He texts me everyday, and out of respect for the nine months of joy we had, I do answer. My Facebook relationship status is empty and I generally have tried to be even less active.

But in maintaining even this small amount of contact, am I prolonging the sadness and keeping myself from healing and moving on?  Is it better for both of us to just cut things off completely for awhile? 

This is really foreign territory for me.  My previous ex's and I have never been in touch.  My ex-fiance never contacted me after he moved his stuff out of our house, and I never had a desire to contact him.  Weirdly enough though, I did hear from his new fiancee.  And even more weird, his aunt sent me a friend request on Facebook...last night.  We have been over for three years!

Could make-up/break-up and I actually be friends?  I don't know the answer to that yet.  At the very least, we have the unfortunate bond of being in the same small specialty and knowing a lot of the same people.  In the meanwhile, I will still respond to his texts within reason.  However, the hurt is still too fresh for a phone call.


There have been a couple interesting essays about the whole Facebook and relationships conundrum.  Check out these links from NPR and the New York Times Modern Love column:

Digital Tears: Breakups and Social Networks
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=123501060

The Boundaries of a Breakup
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/11/22/fashion/22love.html

Risk-Taker

I was shocked and horrified by the loss of three amazing people in the last week: a female neurosurgery resident at my hospital (car accident post-call), a friend from college (working in Haiti for the CDC during the earthquake), and the 21 year old luger from Georgia.  All phenomenal people doing risky things while pursuing their passions.

When I was watching the Olympics last night, one of the news anchors talked about risk-takers.  About how the athletes who compete in the ever increasingly dangerous Winter Games are the types of people who love to live a risky lifestyle.  Interestingly, the anchor said, "You probably don't want to be married to one of these."

Though I don't generally hurtle myself down slick ice at 90 miles per hour, I think that in our own way, surgeons are the Winter Olympians of medicine.  What we do every day is risky.  It requires physical stamina, concentration, and being on top of your game every single time we step in the OR.  It requires practice, perseverance, and a certain degree of out-of-body experience.  It requires a huge time commitment.  It requires special equipment that can make or break the operation.  It requires us to put aside our fear...of needlesticks, infectious diseases, and injuries...for the greater good.  If a host of these factors don't come together, it means a bad day, not just for us, but for the person under our hands.

Surgery attracts a certain risk-taker personality, just as the risky sports of the Winter Games.  I think this translates not only into our professional lives, but in our personal lives, too.  We also take on risky sports (as an aside, I went skiing again today and all I wanted was to go hurtling down that mountain with the greatest of ease), fast cars, and alcohol. 

Hell, I realized this week, that I take risks in relationships.  I love a challenge, and I feel that there is no challenge in relationships that can't be undertaken.  Orthodox religion, long-distance, long-term long-distance, complete opposite, rich/poor, much younger/much older.  No matter the warning signs, I've tried it.  I've crashed and burned too many times to count.

So, as I work on recovering from yet another crash, have I learned my lesson?  Will I take the bunny hill instead of the black diamond?  The clinic life instead of the big whack?  Now, what's the excitement in that.

Breaking Up is Hard to Do: Part One

It is hard to quit something "cold turkey."  Generally, as a resident you have plenty of distractions to keep you busy to numb the pain.  The pager is going off, there are patients to take care of, there are surgeries to concentrate on.  But as the chief resident, a lot of the annoying, but wonderfully distracting stuff goes away.  Instead, I am left with an overactive mind and more time on my hands than I've had in four years.

So, during residency, what do you do to heal a broken heart?

Last time I went through this rigmarole, I was a second year resident dealing with the end of my engagement.  More on this one later.  Luckily, I was on call every other night and spent a lot of time just being sleep-deprived and numb.  Oh yeah, and I also took up running.  Because I might as well be getting in shape while I'm literally running away from my problems, right?  In time, the pain just sort of went away.  While this was a very productive way to avoid dealing with a break-up, it probably was not the best way to actually deal with the messy emotions that come with ending a long-term relationship.

This time around, I decided that since I have the luxury of more time, I would actually deal with the messy emotions instead of hiding them in a box with his belongings and giving them away to Goodwill.

So, instead of picking up my iPhone to check out his profile on Facebook, I call my family and friends to talk.  I went skiing again and practiced my new sport on the slopes--it felt good, peaceful, athletic, and I conquered the green runs. I don't know if it's the surgeon in me, but when I'm mad, I have a need for speed.  I am accepting every single invitation to go out and mingle.  Even though all I want to do is curl up into a ball, sit on the couch, and be a crying lump of a girl, I am forcing myself to put on make-up, cute clothes, and rejoin the human race. 

Overall, I am allowing myself to grieve this.  I am accepting each emotion as it comes, examining it, dealing with it, and then putting it away.  I want to be mentally healthy, and I want my heart to be open for whatever the future may bring.  Most of all...I don't want to be bitter about love.

Interestingly, in the past, after a break-up, I have tried to jump into a new relationship or a hook-up as quickly as possible.  But this time, I have no desire to do such a thing.  Maybe it has to do with the finite time I am going to be here in the Central Time Zone.  Or maybe, I've grown up a bit and realized that the best and only rebound is the kind that's happens in a basketball game.