Well, kind of lost a bit of momentum as summer starts full blast with kid camps, vacations, etc. But I know you have been waiting with excitement for this post! I hope it will be worth the wait.
First off let me just say that I am not really a planner. I have just kind of let life happen. I don’t have a ten year plan or even a five year one. I have pretty much led my life as Matt Damon says in the Martian (great movie) at the end of the movie, “You start by solving one problem, then the next, and so on until eventually you solve enough of them to survive”. Well you can apply that blue print to me.
I did not plan on getting a degree in Anthropology, I just found the classes interesting and I took enough of them to get a degree. I also thought it would be cool to hang out with the Yanamamo in the forest of Brazil. I got my MPH at Berkeley because I decided that I didn’t want to go to medical school. I never planned on having children when I did, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Things just happen and you deal with them. Not that I am not committed or focused, I just don’t visualize touring the world in my 50 foot yacht 10 years from now. Obviously this approach to life can have unforeseen circumstances. For example, I never thought about getting something like PD and opted every year not to get my companies long term disability insurance. Big mistake! But in my world, or my view of the world, I never planned on getting sick. Who does??
So how do you think I approached the clinical trial? Drill holes and ask questions later. Twas the night before surgery and all through the house not a creature was stirring…except me. It kind of hit me the night before, I could die from this! Any number of things can happen in 11 hours of surgery. They could hit blood vessels or cause a stroke, etc. I realize the probabilities are low, but hey, how many 40 year olds get PD. So I tried really hard not to think about it and push any negative feelings and thoughts away.
If you have ever had surgery, you know how weird it is to go under. I mean one second I am talking with the anesthesiologist and the next I am lying in recovery. What happened to those eleven hours? Apparently, the minute they stopped the anesthesia, I woke up and asked if we were done, which was pretty surprising. Of course I didn’t see this, but I was told there were something like 25 people in the OR. Software engineers, nurse staff, research staff, computer guys, doctors, interns, and mice (well maybe not mice). I bet they even had the ice cream truck guy in there.
I am attaching a picture of what I looked like post surgery, and I will now forevermore be known as zipper head.