Confessions of an Intern

Week Forty

Week Forty

My last week of Human Behavior...the calm before the storm. I think I got a high compliment. My preceptor and I had several days to discuss common mental health concerns I would encounter while in practice as a Family Physician. Mental health has always been on of my secret interests, maybe not so secret, but hey, I am not going into psychiatry. My family is full of mental health "pathology" as we fondly call abnormal anything in medicine. I guess in studying what the heck was wrong with my parents, siblings, self, etc, I learned a little something. Besides, it is a beautiful thing, the human mind. It can also be terrifying (please reference my last inpatient month).

That said, when she was going through my end of rotation review she praised my knowledge and felt that I had a good grasp on the topics we covered. She told me that my years of nursing experience served me well, and would continue to do so. I am so glad my life went down the path it did, as I would never trade all the practical knowledge I gained. My intuition would be a huge asset, which would only continue to grow with more experience. Her warning was that patients would flock to me and I would have to learn how to pace myself. Wow! Then as we were parting ways, she said "Well, I think you know as much as I do, so I hope you learned something." No way...I know I don't, but what a nice thing to say.

Anyway, this month was therapeutic for me as well. Much of our time together was spent discussing some of our similar life experiences and how it prepared us for our respective careers. I ended this last week driving six hours to help my 87 year old grandfather pack his home in order to move. I helped him build those houses on his land. It was bittersweet to probably be in them for the last time. It is amazing how small things seem when you are an adult, when it was larger than life when you were a kid (even at age 15). I dreaded this trip for many reasons, including my mother's neuroses, memories, and the short amount of time I had to spend, as I only had Saturday and Sunday, which had to include 12 hours of driving.

My grandfather is a product of the Great Depression, and he was very frugal and saved anything useful. He has old tools and clothes he has kept in immaculate condition. He grew up with next to nothing, the oldest of five.

My mother is a product of him and my grandmother, who also had the waste not want not mentality. She ultimately has turned into a hoarder. The problem=my grandfather is moving into a small home she bought to use a rental property which turned into a house sized storage unit for her crap.

My grandfather, who is now legally blind, managed to pack most of his house himself. My mother on the other hand, managed to move several more boxed of crap into said house just a few weeks ago. We were requested to do about a week's worth of work in a weekend. She micromanages everything and is a queen guilt tripper. Do you know someone like that? My husband tried to get some door trim and knobs onto three doors my brother (another story) put up years ago and when he was kicked out, left undone. While he is trying to do this, my mother, who has bad knees and a heart condition, sat in a chair issuing demands. I had my three sons and an extra 14 year old boy to do work. WE could have had most of the work done, if only she would have gotten out of the way. Instead, in her perch ungraciously badking orders, she limited our ability to do much of anything.

Anyway...I could go on and on. Regardless of how much we were limited, we managed to do well. The boys moved a lot of garage type stuff, I moved a bunch of trash (literally boxes of empty Russel Stover chocolate boxes she "might" store something in someday) as well as shuffling crap from one room to another. The boys and I began to move things from one house to another just to get some respite from "Hand me that pen 4 inches from my hand" type requests. My husband got the knobs on and some trim up (the house is over 100 years old with plaster walls...not even).

Everything turns into a process with her. We called it quits around 8 pm. She wanted to take us to dinner, and we were all starving as we hadn't eaten since the morning. She sets it up all the time that there is not an easy choice (her feelings are easily hurt and we are all very familiar with her tearful displays). Anyway, we drove 20 miles to dinner in another town (50 miles from the hotel we were staying at) so I could return my grandfather and his pick-up truck to his house. We ate dinner and tried to hurry things alone, as the boys and I just wanted to take advantage of the hot tub and pool that closed at 11 pm. We managed to get back to the hotel at 10:30...I did stick up for myself and decided we would not come back to work Sunday morning, as I did not feel we would accomplish anything except heartache.

Just a bit about my boys: I am very proud of them overall. They (and I) did not want to go. I was disgusted how adamant they were when they found out we were going that they couldn't stand the "Nebraska family" as they were mean and dirty. This is true. However, I spent Thursday and Friday dreading the trip and Julie (my preceptor) told me it would be okay if I didn't go. The Thursday before we left, while my husband tried to find an empty hotel room somewhere close, I educated my boys about what it meant to be part of a family. I used the word obligation. We do not choose our family we are born into. In making friends and finding a mate, we can make them. With our blood relatives, they are ours forever. Often families split up, or move apart, but they are always yours. And despite how uncomfortable they make us, we can still live by the golden rule. I had to be frank with my oldest why his Great Grandfather had to move out of a perfectly good home: he is blind, has to use his savings to pay for the expensive Alzheimer's unit Grandma Hopie lives in, and he is of an age where his Medicare doesn't cover everything he had going on with his health. He is a victim of Social Security, as he was self employed much of his life, and only gets $250 a month...Not enough. The sell of his property took a $60,000 loss, as the housing market in central Nebraska is not great.

My son seemed to finally get it and quit being such a punk, and the talk I gave him helped me resolve my misgivings. Oh, and skipping my boys again. My 8 year old with ADHD did fairly well, his main task being to stay out from under foot and move little things. My 11 year old got to do a bit more "shuffling" of crap, I was the mobile task master and my 14 year old and his best friend (who volunteered to spend a lovely weekend working) did the heavy lifting. My husband only had to lift one thing for them they couldn't get. My grandfather stayed in the garage and searched tactily for a tool he wanted to give a friend. Those 14 year olds impressed all of us. My mother is not a very gracious woman, and she did a lot of ordering around of the boys. I was embarassed to have to remind her that "Please" and "Thank you" go a long way, even to kids. They were getting offended. My grandfather was really impressed with M. the boy who traveled with us. He gave him a high quality chain saw (the boy is very ambitious, and funnily has been saving his money for several months to buy a new chainsaw to help his brother cut and sell firewood). He gave my son an old hatchet. The boys were thrilled. My mother made a big show of saying thank you at dinner and paid each boy $20. My grandfather apparently paid for dinner. Had I known it was his money, I would not have let him. I'm really impressed with the boys. There was some complaining, but overall, they finished their work.

Even more impressive to me is how taken my Grandfather was with M. He loves my boys and me and my husband, but is basically a hardass. He and my brother do not get along and he can be a hateful old man. I don't see it much (I'm the only granddaughter and he and I have always had a special relationship). But he really liked M. They sat across from each other and talked through dinner. I had told my grandpa a bit about M.'s family situation and how he is a good kid despite some of the tough stuff he has been through. Come to find out, M. thinks "Bob-o" is a great old guy too.

Although this weekend was dreaded by all, we were all blessed in different ways by our experiences. Remember to love your family inspite of themselves, and share time when you can. Enrich your family by choosing friends wisely, as they can last despite time apart.