Ethics of Relaxation

On Wednesday, I went downtown for an ethics conference at the UIC Medical Center. Ethics is still a passion of mine and I consider it *fun* to think about ethics in the philosophical frameworks of utilitarianism, public policy, and morality. My "healthcare" conferences and meetings stretch my brain length-wise. Philosophy stretches my brain width-wise.

The speakers were amazing. Very knowledgeable on the statistics and viability of single payer reform. However, as the conference progressed, the discussions evolved from "philosophical reasons why single payer reform makes sense to serve the greatest numbers in American society" to "what the heck's wrong with our political system that lobbyists and special interest groups keep derailing any incremental policy movement toward health insurance reform?"

We had a group of very educated, clinical cynics in that lecture hall. It became a battle between the physicians (and med students) and the philosophers. The speakers were mostly of philosophical background, speaking to a group of scientists. It was a fascinating dichotomy and in my world, both are extremely apropos.

While the conference unwrapped a piece of phenomenal mind candy for me, I had to drive through rush hour traffic both ways. It took me 1 hour to get up the Bishop Ford and Dan Ryan. It took me 1 hour 5 minutes to make the return journey that afternoon. The traffic moves at 5 mph, suddenly speeds up to 40 or 50 mph, just to make you immediately slam on your brakes a few seconds later. You have to keep up or you get run over by the crazy Chicagoan drivers. I don't understand traffic patterns and why traffic moves this way, but I do know my nerves were completely shot from the drive and from the dumb grant I studiously worked to complete. The grant had me on my last nerve; Chicago traffic 'drove' me over the edge.

Now, don't tell me about the illegality of texting in Illinois. I didn't care. I texted Jack, "I HAVE to get out of here!! I don't care what it takes, just get me OUT OF HERE!!!" Wonderful Jack responded by researching and booking a lavish get-away in downtown Chicago. Apparently, I was going to have a super-deep jacuzzi tub that overlooked the sparkling city lights, champagne and strawberries, and a 90 minute Swedish massage.

Upon hearing this, I broke the news that I was probably going to have to work all weekend. Unless I can take my laptop into the tub and write a presentation while getting the massage, it wasn't going to happen.

Being the awesome supporter that he is, Jack retaliated by booking me a Swedish massage on Thursday night, at a spa by my Chicagoland pad. It. Was. Magnificent. I cut my work short Thursday evening and with glee, drove to the spa. It was the first time I've relaxed in, well, a long time.

I know massage therapy sounds dumb; you're paying someone to rub you. Sounds a bit prostititional, I know. But for that 60 or 90 minutes, it's your sole job to relax. You have to give your best effort to relaxation. That's my focus. There's nothing like paying $100 to force you to relax. You can't waste that time and money by festering about work! I had a regular massage therapist last year and might have to reinstitute that practice. I'm also considering a lesson in proper yoga form (from a co-worker certified in yoga).

Part of my problem is that I never relax. I work until I'm so fatigued I cannot keep my eyes open. So when I stop, kick my feet up, and breathe deeply, I'm asleep within seconds. I will learn to relax if it kills me!