Catch Me if you can…

Hi, everybody! It has been a long time since my last post.

I hope this finds you well.  I have heard from a couple of you who are curious about what it is that I do, now that I have a real job again.  So I’ll start by saying that my job is actually two jobs in one, with the occasional odd job thrown in for good measure.  All in all I am considered a faculty member at Baylor College of Medicine, a private medical school in Houston.  As a part of the Department of Family and Community Medicine I am an Assistant Professor.  I work 50% of the time for the CHP, or Community Health Program, through which I work at the Martin Luther King, Jr. Community Health Center.  I am there on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Friday afternoons, and while there I am responsible for seeing patients who need primary care.  At this facility we tend to get some folk who are really sick in some cases, far sicker than one would expect routinely in a suburban family practice.  The people I see are often those who have been amongst the poorest in the city for most of their lives.  Some are aliens who have been here a while, and some are a part of the working poor.  Lower socio-economic class clientele to say the least.

I find my work there to be difficult and yet rewarding.  I feel rewarded in the interaction with the folks one at a time, though overall the workload sometimes is aggrevating.  And love that I see something new or unique all the time.  I can’t remember when I have had so many patients who have been ex-cons.
The difficult part about this job is that it is often hard to make things happen for a patient in a timely fashion.  One of the beauties of the free-market model is that consultants really do want referrals and work hard to please those who make them.  In our system on the other hand the consultants have far more work than they want anyway, so they really aren’t in much of a hurry to clear the waiting lists, especially because they don’t tend to be paid for services rendered but by salary with little incentives.  This leads to patients getting problems solved with such delay in some cases that a similar patient in the private system would be fully recovered before one of ours has even been seen by a specialist.  But, I digress.  I don’t work in policy but patient care.  And I do enjoy helping the individual, especially one who knows that I am all he has keeping him from the unknown fate of no medicine.  Ah, medicine.

In my other 2.5 days of working I am in a Public Health clinic that sees people who have immigrated into the US either via refugee camps, asylum seekers, parole hearings, or on immigrant visas.  The latter usually worked for the US in some capacity overseas.  The Parolees usually showed up one day at the border and begged to get in- most of them are Cuban.  Asylum seekers tend to be from places like Iran.
In this job we do health screening examinations for the government.  They are usually sponsored by an agency (YMCA, Interfaith, Catholic Charities, etc.) in part, but the State Department arranges to pay for housing, Medicaid, and some other support for a few months.  We try to make sure that any medical needs are identified and then referred to appropriate care.  It is nice in a lot of ways.  I like meeting people who are from all sorts of countries.  Several come from Burma, Iraq, Somalia, Bhutan, Congo, and Cuba, but there are others.  It is nice to hear some of the small stories of their lives; all are glad to have the opportunity to come here, even though for many it is a daunting task to learn enough English to survive and get a job sufficient to provide for their families.  I like it though.  I feel like I am getting to use some of the tropical medicine training that I hoped I would be using sooner rather than later.

All in all that’s about all I do.  As a faculty member I may have opportunity to do some writing sometime, but I need to seek that stuff out.  I also may get to go to Honduras in October- we shall see.

That’s all I know to tell you at the moment.

Today was one of those days.

You know the kind: you get up, optimism abounds because the world really is your oyster, and you like it raw with all the liqour from the half-shell.  Then soon enough the reality sets in and it becomes very obvious that this particular oyster was not quite as choice as it appeared.

Today was like that.

To start I got up to a beautiful view out my window, light from the dawn not quite illuminating the mountains to the west, but the snow-covered houses and trees all around were quite a sight to see.  It was really cold, so in a sense that was exciting in itself, since I knew that I don’t work outdoors.  As I went off to work I found that the car thermometer said that it was about 6 degrees below zero Fahrenheit (about -22 C).  I thought that was pretty cool!  It was also a little slower on the drive because the road felt a little odd, but still things seemed to be all good.

I was a little later to the local Starbucks because of that, and then my early start managed to get me to work just on time to find that I had a pretty full schedule and a lot of stuff in my inbox.  No worries, though; it is a Monday, after all, and things are generally a little busy due to the 2 day break.

Soon, however, it became apparent that no matter how much I wanted to blame my slowness on my nurse, it was really my own doing for whatever reason, and suddenly my usual hour-long lunch became a 15 minute jaunt downstairs where I had been told that there would be a free lunch provided.  This was great because a drive out to get something would have taken more than 15 minutes anyway, and I didn’t need to start out behind on the second half, right?

So downstairs I went to find the free lunch.

Oh wait- didn’t someone once say that there’s no such thing as a free lunch?  In this case it wasn’t because there was a catch but more because there wasn’t much of a lunch left- they had run out of the main courses and only had some potatoes and carrots left.  More was being delivered they assured me, but it might be a while.  I could get some in a while upstairs.

Ok, I’ll have some potatoes and carrots.  I need to make sure those are in my diet, and I really wasn’t that hungry at the time.  So back up to the office I went.

The second half started off with an onside kick, which I promptly lost, putting me behind right away, and the phone calls, lab results, prescription refills, patient emails, and actual patient visits with their myriad questions seemed endless.  The next thing I knew it was 4:45, I was telling my last patient where to go, and I had another 7 calls to reply to, along with who knows how many other things to do that have to be done sooner or later (and why wait until tomorrow, as there will be more anyway?).

By this time I’ve already told Ben that I won’t be meeting him at the gym for the Combat Calesthenics class, thinking that I would have been out early enough anyway, but the next thing you know, I finally wrap it all up at about 6:30pm.   Good thing I decided against that class, eh?

So out to the car I go.  It is -1 F.  The car started up just fine.  Then as I turned the wheel a little I felt a weird sensation in the steering as if something shifted.  Then the penny dropped.  Or the front end of the car, rather.  That’s when I realized that I had a flat tire.

Great.  Like I said: I’m glad that I decided against trying to meet Ben for that class, because I was not going to make it.  I drove to a place in the lot where the light was better and started into the changing of the tire.  Now, I don’t mind changing a tire now and then, but this is the second tire I’ve changed for Avis in 6 months.  And this one was not easy, considering the lack of good light and the temperature.  But when it was all over, I managed to drive home without incident.  I got home finally at 7:40 or so.

But you know what?  On the drive home I found a station playing a chamber choir singing Christmas music, and you know?  I still had a smile in there somewhere.  Just as things invaded my day today and I had to adjust, so God reminded me that the world had to adjust when He invaded in the form of a baby in a manger.  And we’re still adjusting.

Merry Christmas!

Since becoming engaged to marry I have begun to learn some things about life and who I am that I don’t think I ever would have learned otherwise.  There is a part of me that is more selfish than I would have ever cared to admit.  Now, however, I am forced to confront this in the light of the fact that I am going to be married.  That fact alone is enough to break a few of my prior paradigms on how I should live my life because I no longer am making decisions for myself alone: I am making decisions that directly affect another person, one whom I claim to love with my whole being.  If I am to love her as Christ loved the Church and gave Himself for it, then I must love sacrificially, denying my own wants and desires in an effort to provide and also be everything that she needs in so much as I am able.  This does not mean that I will never be able to have that which i desire; on the contrary, by providing for her I will be filling myself up with joy knowing that I am being a good husband.  So even in sacrifice I am blessed.  Does this mean that no matter what I do I stand to gain something and it cannot therefore be considered “sacrifice?”  I say no.  St. Francis of Assisi is quoted as having said that, “it is in giving that we receive,” and, “it is in pardoning that we are pardoned.”  Does that mean that we give because we know we are going to get back or pardon just because we will then be pardoned?  Again I say no.  We are to give expecting nothing in return.  We are to forgive expecting no thanks.  In marriage it is this way.  The beautiful thing though is that if both are giving and forgiving in this manner, then both will be blessed because of the love that is shared sacrificially.  It is truly a bewildering concept for me.  I can’t wait to learn more.

Julius Caesar, upon crossing the Rubicon River on January 10, 49 BC into northern Italy in defiance of the Roman senate mandate, passed the point of no return, for in crossing the river he had essentially started a war.  He is quoted as having said, “alea iacta est,” which is to say: “the die is cast.”

For those of you who aren’t keeping up with me elsewhere, I am now engaged to marry a wonderful woman named Julisa.  We didn’t consider the Rubicon at the time, but it is interesting to note that we will be married on January 10th.  I’ve thought about this engagement thing for a while, and I find that this is thusfar the most challenging and rewarding thing I’ve ever done.  It is at the same time thrilling and terrifying, yet not in the same way as a rollercoaster, but rather like whitewater rafting- sudden thrills around the bend, but at times one may get tossed overboard, only to be rescued and heading straight back for more.  For both of us, getting engaged is crossing that river.  We both have lived a lot of life as single adults and find the coming changes exciting and scary at the same time.  We have both had roommates and lived alone.  We are resolved.  The die is cast.  There is no turning back from here.  I for one am excited for the future.

Saturday I got up a little earlier than usual.  In fact there have been times when I have gone to bed later that that, but this particular Saturday I had plans that required such a sacrifice. There are several reasons for that, but none so important as simple safety.

Having prepared in advance with driving directions that seemed solid, I packed up and took off at a little after 3 AM. The roads are surprisingly clear at this time of day.  Mostly because the drunks have already crashed (literally or figuratively), and the average person would have sense enough to be asleep.

The drive took me through the mountains into Leadville, Colorado, the highest town in the USA.  At over 10,000 feet, even the ice cream pops out of the containers due to air expansion.

As I consulted my directions on my way out of town I took a turn on County Road 300 and stopped.  Ihad a hunch that the turn of the highway was important for something, but I looked again at my directions and found I had a few miles to go further.

A few miles down I found the road, turned, made a couple of u-turns because it was very dark and signage was hard to read, but eventually I made it down the long dirt road that my directions indicated was right. But something was bothering me.  Some little voice was trying to be heard.  Yet I was resolved to get to the end of the road.

I can be really hard-headed sometimes.

Eventually I found the end of the road in the form of a locked gate that was completely unlike the description I had read of the large parking area at the base of the mountain.  Okay, I said to myself, consult the web page that had the written directions.

And that’s when I became a little annoyed at myself.  “From US-24 past Leadville, take County Road 300 to the right.”  Right.  Is that a voice laughing in my head?

And so, I backtracked, and watched the dawn breaking as I thought to myself for an hour that I could have already been on the trail.  When I finally did get to the parking area it was 6:30, more than 3 hours after leaving home for what should have been a 2 hour drive.  I guess I won’t need that headlamp I thought to myself.

I had wanted to be on the trail before first light for a couple of reasons.  The first was that I wanted to be up above the treeline at dawn if possible to get some pictures of the mountains in that light.  The second reason was that I was hoping to be the first to the summit that day. Oh well.

It was a balmy 36 degrees (2 C) at 10,040 feet when I started up the trail but soon despite not wearing gloves or a jacket I was plenty warm and even starting to sweat a bit.  One of the rules of hiking in the cold is to not overdress.  It is good to be able to keep warm, but if one sweats because of all the layers, it will lead to hypothermia, so it is better to be a little on the cool side.

The climb led up through the trees at 11,900 feet and from there the false peak could be seen.  If you ever get a chance, go there: it is an impressive sight.  The crystal blue skies behind it and the sunlight on the face was inspiring in the morning.

Continuing up the trail over the next couple of hours my progress was easily marked.  This was the first time that I climbed by myself, and so although there were other people about, I had no one with me to either push me or slow me down.  It was nice but at times I think I pushed myself too hard.

In the end it was no matter because at 5 minutes to 10 AM I reached the peak.

I spent a good 40 minutes there, eating, taking a few pictures, and chatting with other climbers about the experience.  Then I noticed something that was a little disconcerting.  The skies were no longer crystal clear, they were filling up with (to quote a guy I spoke with a little later) “puffy bunny clouds.”  It was time to go.

It was still mostly sunny when I left the top at 10:40, and of course I passed probably 50-75 people who were going up as I was going down.  I talked to many of them, and to all of them I suggested that they consider the clouds that were building.

Which brings me to reason #3 for getting up early and climbing.  Summer storms in the Rockies occur quite often on days that begin just like that one did.  And lighting tends to strike high on the mountain, above treeline, where there is no cover.  Hence my early exit.

It took well over an hour to get to treeline, and I was still passing people on the way up.  It was nearly noon!  By this time the clouds were no longer puffy bunny clouds- they had joined forces and looked rather like a large grey blanket.

Within a few minutes of stopping for a brief rest, I noticed a few little white droplets falling every couple of seconds.  Five minutes later it was really coming down- I got my jacket out and picked up the pace.  It became rain soon after that, and at 12:20 I heard thunder.  I was happy that I was far from the top.   The rain continued to some degree until I was within 100 yards of the parking area at 1 PM.  Safe and sound.

Here’s a pictorial to illustrate some of this.  Enjoy!

So here I am, just watching the olympics, and realized that I can blog on my iPod now. It’s cool, but it takes way too long to type. Oh well.

My first original kitchen creation.  A bachelor’s dream dinner all in one.  Okay, maybe just one I think about even later when I’m hungry.

Gentlemen, let’s do this thing.

• Start with a nice 10-12 inch nonstick pan.  Put just a little olive oil in it and put it on medium heat (that’s about 4-5 on most electric ranges).
• Take 3 or 4 eggs and whip them in a bowl.  Be sure to crack them open and get them out of the shell first.  If you can’t do that, I can’t help you anymore.
• Add a little bit of half and half and whip it with the eggs, maybe a tablespoon or so.  I don’t measure it, so it may be more than that.
• Pour the eggs into the pan (see this is easy!).
• Take a small piece of smoked salmon, about the size of three to four fingers (depending upon how big your fingers are of course) and cut it into small pieces, then place them on one side of the omelette.
• Now take 1/3 to 1/2 of a small avocado and dice it (remember to take it out of the hard skin and don’t try to dice that big stone-like seed!).  Place this into the same side of the omelette as the salmon.
• Add a little grated cheese (I prefer parmesan, and since it’s my recipe, I’ll use it!).
• This is when I usually add a little salt and pepper.
• Hopefully you haven’t dilly-dallied and burned up the eggs already.  If you have, it’s time to stop and go out to eat.  If not, press on!
• Fold over the empty half onto the full side.  If you have too much stuff it won’t close, but then again, so what?  You’re still eating it by yourself, so who’s gonna care?
• Lastly, after a couple of minutes you can either flip it over onto the other side or just serve it onto a plate.
• Once on a plate, cover with a little green chile salsa.  I like 505 Southwestern Organic Green Chile Sauce.  You can buy whichever one you like.  If you can make your own, why are you reading my recipes?
• Enjoy with enough water or other palate cleansing liquid to keep the green chiles from burning your taste buds so that you don’t notice the avocado goodness.

And there you have it!  My Olympic Denver Omelette.  I hope that you enjoy it as much as I did.