Advent Busyness

One thing I hate about myself is that, when people ask me how I am or how things are going, I inevitably answer "busy."

Isn't everyone busy this time of year? Isn't everyone busy most times of the year?

I'd like to propose a change. Let's just assume, across the board, that everyone's crazy busy. And when someone asks you how you are or how things are going, you are NOT allowed to answer busy. We know you're busy, but how are things really going?

Wouldn't it be refreshing if, when you asked your spouse or neighbor or friend how they were doing and they replied, "fantastic!" Or maybe "excellent!" When someone answers "busy," we instantly start comparing notes to see who is truly busier. It's a voracious cycle where both parties leave the conversation feeling winded, burdened, and well, too busy.

When we're highly-scheduled and busy, we think we're important. But it's not true. You can make a huge difference in this cold, dark world by bringing peace, a slower pace, and joy to those around you. My personal motto this season is "don't be harried."

"Harried" is a code word for "busy!"

I've been making a point to not say the "b" word (or the "h" word) in the course of conversation. No one really cares that I'm busy. Busyness is a choice, just like the choices to love someone or to be happy. It's all within our power to choose, with a little conscious discipline to stop that "b" word from rolling off our tongues.

It's a tough change, however, not unlike the changes we're grappling with at mass (you knew I had to address this sometime!). It's been a much-publicized updating of the English mass; we've been hearing about the changes for months and now we're living them. You get so into auto-pilot mode and answer certain ways out of habit. For example, we're no longer saying "And also with you," but "And with your spirit." Technically, it's a two-word change and yet, throughout the two masses we've attended since the Church's "go live" of the new format of mass, the congregation muddles through with a mish-mash, "And also with, um, oops, your spirit." Then they turn to their neighbors and sort of giggle because, c'mon, it's two words and we still cannot unlearn decades of repetition.

For the record, the mass changes are beautiful. The changes have forced us to slow down and refocus on what our faith tradition teaches. It's like hearing our own mass from an outsider's perspective and Advent couldn't have been a better time to become reacquainted with our tradition....in the midst of the busyness of Christmas preparation.

We're all busy. Let's get over it. I challenge you (and me) to eradicate that word from our vocabulary and unlearn the concept of busy.

Vocation

Man oh man, I'm getting my butt kicked this week.

I had a 15-hour day on Monday that culminated in a dinner with our endocrinologists at a restaurant in the western suburbs. Despite the fact that I felt I was fighting the stomach flu all day, I knew I couldn't bail. This was my only chance to get administration and these docs around the same table. I needed to sell our idea of getting a nurse practitioner in Diabetes and a fellowship slot for an endocrinologist training program.

I felt terrible Monday night and thought I was going downhill toward Immanent Illness. I woke up Tuesday and felt like death. After my shower, I cocooned myself in a blanket on the couch and plotted my approach to rescheduling the day's meetings. Then I heard my mother's voice in my head...when I was a kid in school and felt icky, she'd tell me to try it and she'd come pick me up if I felt worse. Then she'd say, "Just gut through it- maybe your day will be better than you think."

Darn it all, Mama Bear was right. Tuesday rocked!

I drug myself into work and on a breakfast of M&M's and coffee, started to liven up a bit. The morning meetings were okay. It wasn't my A-game, but it was okay.

Then my life changed forever.

Because I am extremely blessed and weirdly connected in this field, I had my first call with Dr. Bill Nelson, chief ethicist at Dartmouth Medical School. I'm not a name-dropper, but this was BILL NELSON. He's written, like, 900 articles on ethics and is pioneering change in healthcare ethics.

My mentor through ACHE hooked me up with Bill; they're on the AHA board together and just "hang out." I cannot even imagine what it's like to "hang out" with people like this but after 45 minutes of speaking with this distinguished academic on the phone, my head ached. I wondered if I gave myself a brain bleed.

He explained the three primary branches of healthcare ethics: clinical, research, and organizational ethics. Clinical ethics is needed when your grandma and my child both need a ventilator. We have one ventilator and must decide who gets it. Or, perhaps your grandpa wants to leave this earth in peace and your family wants to prolong his life with end-stage renal dialysis. That also requires a clinical ethics approach.

Two is research ethics...how do we align the systems within the hospital to prevent patient safety errors and quality issues in the first place? This approach uses Lean and process improvement methodologies to fix hospital operations for the better because it's what we should do. Keeping our patients safe and providing excellent care is our ethical obligation; it is the fundamental driver of our entire business. Through Lean, you want to prevent the ethical fires that ethics committees and clinical ethics consults extinguish. There isn't much done in this area, as it is too large for a hospital and too small for a state department of public health to deal with...

Three is organizational ethics. This describes how we create healthcare structures to address overarching issues, such as how a Catholic hospital would respond to an abortion scandal. Organizational ethics considers the larger scene.

Cue my brain aneurysm...

I have three hats I wear at work: Hospital operations (getting things done), process improvement (via Lean), and clinical ethics for those ethical fires needing specific action and decision-making. My three hats seem disparate and unrelated. I can weave a little bit of Lean into hospital ops, but it is a tough sell some days.

It dawned on me that my life's vision is to advance Point #2 above, research ethics. It just so happens that my three worlds intersect nicely and ethics serves as the underpinning of everything I do at work. I lead the PI teams because it's the right thing for our patients. I reorganization hospital ops because it positions us to better serve out patients. Our moral values and ethical principles guide everything we do in the hospital walls.

Wow. My head spun. I wanted to shout from the rooftops, that I was finally able to name my life's passion! That one conversation helped me articulate what I've been trying to do for the last three years.

So not only did Bill give me time out of his day, help me articulate my life's passion, and send me three of his most recent articles to peruse at my pleasure, he offered to mentor me in the field of healthcare ethics. People pay this guy to speak at national events and conferences and he has umpteen honorary doctorates and *I* get an hour once a month? Unreal.

He said he was "selfishly wanting to mentor someone, to pass along his info." Fine. Twist my arm!

After I calmed down from that celebration, EVOO came into my office and asked if I would help lead a $3M consolidation effort to streamline the ancillaries so things are better for the patients.

To which I answered, "Bring it on! It's the right thing to do!"

FINALLY

41 short papers, two conferences in Philly, four case studies, one 15-minute oral exam, one mock ethics committee, and one thesis later (consisting of 26 pages, 19 sources, and 49 citations), I am finished with my ethics certification!

I am only awaiting a grade on my thesis. But I'm not waiting to pop the champagne! Time to enjoy the summer and hit the pool!

If anyone wants to buy my ethics paper portfolio, I will be selling it on Ebay for $45,000. Oh wait, that wouldn't be ethical. Nevermind.

And I swear, I'm taking at least a year off before starting another degree program!

Camp Stories

The moment you've all been waiting for, stories from FEMA Camp! I cannot tell you how many times I heard someone say, "This one time, at FEMA Camp..."

It *was* funny, if quite ridiculous!

So I left on Sunday morning and arrived in Atlanta just after noon. Then I caught a bus for the two-hour ride to Anniston, Alabama. It was HOT. And there were big bugs. Those are the two things I will remember most about 'Bama. But we did manage to have some fun along the way, at Fort McClellan, an Army base in the hills of 'Bama, the site of the Center for Domestic Preparedness.

On Sunday night, everything in the bustling metropolis of Anniston was closed. Everything, that is, except Walmart. So my new friend, Nurse Onomatopoeia, and I chartered a ride from base to Wally World in the hopes of some entertainment. The people watching was just as much fun as checking out the local Wally's merchandise:



I would have bought this shirt, but they were sold out. Seriously. So RN Onomatopoeia and I stocked up on our Alabama Crimson Tide t-shirts. I kept thinking it was the "Crimson Wave," not "Crimson Tide," but I was corrected. That would've been funnier had Alabama been a women's college. :) And I dubbed my friend "Nurse Onomatopoeia" because she had a sound effect for everything. An ER/Trauma nurse from Fort Worth, TX, she used sounds more than words for communicating.

On Monday, we were transported to Noble Army Hospital (busing to and from base), an out-of-commission hospital in which we were going to train. It felt official:



Security was TIGHT. Even though they check your badge against your photo ID when you leave base, they check it all AGAIN when you arrive at the hospital. What's going to happen? Spontaneous evolution of human life on the 4 minute bus ride? Regardless, it was probably one of the safest places to be this past week.

There were 60 administrators, RN's, EMS, and fire chiefs in our class. Day 1 consisted mostly of lecture. Nine hours of lecture. After that, we were desperate for some local culture (read: alcohol), so a group of us chartered a bus to a lovely, sophisticated dining establishment called Cooter Brown's. It redefined "hole in the wall."

Seating about 40 people (tops), this was the view from the minuscule loft:



Being total tourists, our group tried Alabama Slammers. The drinks were the color of river water but tasted like fruit punch. They were perfect to accompany the "tasty butts" Cooter's is known for:



It was simply the best BBQ I've ever had. The pork was smoky and the sauce spicy and tangy. However, it was the BBQ that never ended; regardless of how much I ate, my pile of pork BBQ never went down. It regenerated itself. Like *MAGIC* BBQ. Cooter's lived up to its hype, except when we were reclining after our feast, a cockroach scurried across the table. Making one of her characteristic sound effects (kind of like a crazy rooster), RN Onomatopoeia hailed the table's check in 3.78 seconds. Honestly, I wasn't that surprised, but one of the infection preventionists in our group started hyperventilating.

The next morning and four TUMS later, we returned to the hospital for more lecture. Then we did table-top exercises where you think through what you would do in Disaster A, B, or C. They split us up into groups, so we got to know several other folks.

That night, I returned to my room and JUST ABOUT finished my ethics paper. Yes, this is newsworthy.

The next day, day three, was our first simulation. We actually ran the Army hospital during a crisis. It was a terrorism explosion that turned into a nerve gas event with some anthrax thrown in. As hospital incident command, we had to supervise the decontamination of patients, treat the hazmat situation, accommodate hundreds of ER patients (using mass triage) and somehow work with public health to protect society. We ran and ran for 8 hours and everyone was zonked by the end.

That night, a spontaneous party erupted at the FEMA bar, with about 20 people from my class. There was an outdoor picnic area and everyone congregated to share tales from the day. Fueling this were the $1 draft imports in the FEMA bar subsidized by YOU. Your tax dollars at work!

It was interesting, though, because the whole experience was starting to remind me of college. Everything from the cinderblock dorm rooms to the shared bathrooms to the dining hall food with excellent entrees and even better desserts, it was just like college. Except that most people were married and the bizarre late-adolescent courtship rituals were not occurring, thankfully. This is a shot from the inside of FEMA bar. Even it reminded me of Senior Bar at Notre Dame:



Then on Day 4, the last day of training, we had to run the hospital again. This time, it was a bioterrorism attack with small pox. It was insanity and people really got into the exercise. Here is the administrative command post:



Here is the ER:



So the last night, we again congregated in the picnic area to share our gritty stories from the day. A few days ago, we didn't know each other at all; now we were good friends who survived anthrax and small pox and kamikaze terrorists. We swapped phone numbers and email addresses like kids exchanging friendship bracelets at camp, promising to keep in touch as penpals. It was a cross between camp and college and we all feel better prepared to manage our respective hospitals in a time of mass disaster.

The only hiccup during the trip was thanks to my Citibank credit card. I used it in the Alabama outback and when I tried to upgrade myself to business class for the return flight, it was denied. Turns out Citi didn't think I should have been in 'Bama, buying Crimson Wave t-shirts at Wally World! They said it was "outside my usual spending habits."

How funny. And true (as I adjust the Alabama baseball cap I'm wearing)!

Back to the real world and the 548 emails I have awaiting me. My ethics paper is 98%done, I paid off my student loan yesterday, and travel season has come to a close...I smell a party!

Sponge Bob Ethics

So last weekend, in a fit of procrastination, I flipped on the tube to distract myself from my terrible ethics thesis.

The show? Sponge Bob. It was the episode where he had to write a paper for boating school. It was due at 9 a.m. and Sponge Bob had procrastinated until the night before to write. Then he had to change Gary's food, clean the kitchen, and bug Patrick. Then he dozed off and had nightmares that his house was burning down. He woke up at 8:55 a.m., fervently wrote his essay (about what you shouldn't do at a stop sign) and made it to class with a minute to spare. The teacher then announced that she canceled the essay; that they were just going to visit a stop sign instead.

I giggled then realized I wasted 22 minutes of my life watching that show!

Drat!

So while Jack went to work this morning, I've been crazily typing away on my ethics paper. I have made good progress and daresay it, am getting excited about the topic. Things are crystallizing and the logic is flowing. This is good. I'm up to 16 or so pages...while I need 20-25 pages, I usually don't have a problem meeting the length requirements.

I'm actually excited about the moral certitude of embryonic stem cell research as a gravely immoral and illicit research medium.

May I have my dork card now? :)

I really wouldn't mind sitting in my library, working away, if it wasn't beautiful, 82, sunny, with one of those slight summer breezes! Eh, oh well. There will still be some summer left when the ol' thesis is complete! At least Jack and I have reservations downtown at Rhapsody tonight. We will have some fun in the Chi, so that definitely helps.

Time to get back to work. I have a feeling my professors aren't going to cancel this assignment and take me on a field trip instead!

The Meteorologist of Azkaban

Tonight's post is a random mish-mash of anecdotal fodder from my day. I don't have much to talk about because I'm currently editing and proof-reading the job descriptions I asked all my managers to update (or create). I have 14 of them sitting in my lap and I couldn't be more excited (not even kidding). Plus, I'm sitting on my deck, laptop in action, watching the swirling clouds. My head tinges with sudden bursts of pain (as I imagine Harry Potter's head hurts when Voldemort approaches) as my sinuses predict the next wave of tornadic activity. What is with these constant storms? Did a butterfly flap its wings in India again? My sinuses detect the smallest fluctuation in barometric pressure and I should have been a meteorologist.

Usually, I like storms and delight at their arrival. I'm retracting that delight because I don't want Ellie to get hurt.

Ellie is my new Toyota and she's PRETTY. SO not a big deal, but I'm irked that yet another hailstorm is approaching and I'm not sure how to shelter the car. Shouldn't you get at least 500 miles on a car before you have to take it in to repair hail damage? Sigh. Maybe I could flatten out a few packing boxes and duct tape them to the car? Maybe I can wrap the whole she-bang in bubble wrap? I know, I know, I shouldn't have a new car so I didn't have to concern myself with this worry!

In other news, today was the first day I didn't feel like my head was under water at work. I had the slightest inkling that I'm doing well and might just survive this whole management gig. Yes, that's newsworthy, stop judging me!

I'll leave you with one more anecdote from Saturday's cross-timezone move. My mom was helping me gather up the loose odds and ends in the living room. Of the weird stuff left over was my think tank 4x3 foot newsprint pad from work and a lightbulb. She asked me what the newsprint was for and I explained that I often draw out my ideas at work (us geeks are strange like that) and plaster my office walls with graffiti and other operational plans. Then she asked if the lightbulb was for when I had a good idea and could hold it over my head!

So now, I'm taking a lightbulb to work and keeping it on my desk for when those great ideas strike!

Right Place, Right Time

Life hasn't been ALL that bad lately.

Last week was 100 mph, especially Thursday and Friday. On Thursday, I received an unexpected invitation to half the big corporate execs meeting at St. Fozzie's. This surprised me because, while I eventually want to end up in that room, I didn't think I would be allowed in just yet. EVOO fought for my admission and it was a tremendous brain-stretching morning. Then I ran to two of my departments and explained the strategic plan to all the employees. It is Administration's dream (and goal) to have all employees able to recite (or at least understand) the strategic plan.

Thursday night turned into me walking five miles and collapsing in a heap.

Then bright and early on Friday morning, I attended the biweekly Service Excellence meeting and during that meeting, decided to cancel my big afternoon throughput brainstorm I had planned. Half the attendees were out or leaving early. I asked one of the attendees if he minded if I canceled and he said, "No, I don't mind; I have to leave early anyway. I'm going to the Crosstown Classic."

I gave him a hard time and told him I'm deeply pitying him.

He then said, "I have an extra ticket...can you leave within the next hour?"

I'm a total Wrigley virgin and had no idea how to get there, how much time I needed to traverse midtown traffic with the Blackhawks parade in full swing, the opening day of the Jazz Fest, AND the Crosstown. I didn't have a jersey. I didn't have a clue.

As it turns out, I still haven't been in Wrigley Field. Our seats were on one of the Sheffield Rooftops. Apparently, these are enviable tickets (sorry, Edge) and while they afforded us great views, they also included all you can eat and drink:

This was taken from the front row of the rooftop box. Now, this was before the broiling sun came out....as the game started, it was a balmy 86 degrees that made a Floridian summer seem light. As the sun peeked out in the 3rd inning, the heat rivaled Hell itself and I felt myself wilting into a Caribbean sweat in the Sox jersey EVOO picked up for me on his way out to the game. It was HOT but in a sea of Cubs fans, my friend A-Rod, EVOO, and I found a few south siders and the White Sox fans united for a win.

It was a terrific day to be in Chicago. I love this city.

Sold!

Jack and I sold our house today! Well, it took about a week, four viewings by the prospective buyers, and a counter-offer, but we received the signed contract today!

This is a HUGE monkey off my back. Having two homes (and two mortgages) is tough while the move itself will prove fun (isn't moving always fun?), I'm relieved that this two-time-zone existence is just about over. Plus, just HAVING the house on the market is stressful. Well, at least it was for Jack because he's the one who always had to show it.

EEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

We didn't get the exact profit we were hoping for, but we didn't lose money either. This is good.

So pending all successful inspections, we'll officially be leaving SB and becoming Chicagoan residents on June 19.

Sssshhhhhhhhh!

I received some great, awesome, wonderful career news today but I can't tell you what it is. Don't you hate that? But I cannot say anything yet. Maybe not for a few months.

I'm recording this day so I can reference back to it in the future. Three things are for certain...one, that God has a tremendous sense of humor (and I think He times these things just to spite my weak faith). Two, that none of my work or stress has been in vain (and neither are the stomach ulcers or now-permanent acid indigestion). Three, that the people who need to know I'm busting my rear definitely know I'm busting my rear and are talking to others about my rear-busting (did I mention the rear-busting?).


You're totally confused now, aren't you?! For the first time in my fellowship, I'm NOT!

The Pep Rallies

Today was Day #2 of the St. Fozzie's pep rally. Actually, it was more of a big tent revival. We hired a motivational speaker, set up a big top tent, passed out popcorn, and fired up the troops. Our patient satisfaction scores have gone through the roof, spirits are high, and we wanted to draw a line in the sand to make sure everyone realized that this was a cultural change, not just a flavor of the week. Most things were donated, so we didn't cause much ruckus to our rocky bottom line.

I slept about 3 hours last night because I had to be on campus at 6 a.m. for the preparations. It was okay, as Dietary brought out a huge carafe of strong, trucker brew coffee. I moved from exhausted and zombie-ish to completely giddy.

The first three rally sessions were Monday. The last three sessions were today. It rained both days! It was great, though, and everyone collectively teared up when they played the "Together We Can Save St. Fozzie's" song we filmed on campus. The speaker was great and had a few poignant points to share. Also, hearing the same speech six times will hardwire a few things into your skull.

One of my favorite take-aways revolves around becoming human beings. Sounds so easy, right? The speaker advised the rally participants to not become human doings. Human doings define themselves by what they do, their jobs, parenthood etc. Their identity is so tied up in their jobs that when those jobs go away, they have no sense of identity left. He re-emphasized the fact that we should be human BEINGS and live life outside of our primary responsibilities.

I looked up from my Blackberry, startled. I had to frenetically email about 38 people and I couldn't stand to lose those few hours of work time. It was so ridiculous...I was on the pep rally committee and helped get everything set up for the events. Once the speaker started, I would gravitate to toward the back of the tent, break out my notepad and Blackberry and get to work. I actually wrote one of the grant cover letters this morning during the first session.

His message wasn't lost on me, though. I was did my back-of-the-tent working thing during the noon session, but didn't take any books or phones with me during the final session. I sat there and listened. I realized that my friends and family members are right: life isn't just about work. I'm more than an administrator-in-training. I'm more than a young woman who feels she must work three times as hard as everyone else to get noticed and make a true difference. Naaaah, I'm also a wife, a daughter, a sister, an aunt, a friend and neighbor.

Then it dawned on me that THAT's the balance I'm lacking in my life. I can work all I want but I cannot forget that I am not identified or defined by my career choice. It was strangely freeing.

Sunglasses and Sunscreen

No, it's not another "I'm-leaving-my-life-and-hopping-on-a-plane-to-the-Caribbean" post. I AM leaving and hopping on a plane to south Florida next week, but that'll be another post.

Teehee.

I'm laden with sugar, caffeine, and that singular adrenaline that washes over you only when you've accomplished something huge.

I was sitting in the typical senior leadership meeting this morning, trying to wrap my brain around value-based purchasing and upcoming bundled payments from CMS. And then my phone kept vibrating. Usually, that means I'm being inundated with emails. I couldn't help it...what if it was my mom? Jack? Therese? What if someone was terribly hurt and needed me right then and there?

So I succumbed to the temptation and logged onto my phone in the middle of the meeting. This is generally frowned-upon, but more and more lately, people are just emailing on their Blackberries while other people are TALKING to them.

I didn't find that anyone was hurt (thank God). Instead, I had six emails from IHI (Institute for Healthcare Improvement), that all of the patient safety storyboards I submitted on St. Fozzie's behalf were accepted for exhibition at the annual conference in December! I wonder if my face betrayed the fact that I received great news. I sat on it until it was my turn to update everyone during the round table discussion. I broke the news and Sister Lourdes actually squealed!

I received a round of applause (which caught me off guard). I shared the news with the key staff in Quality Improvement, Emergency Department, and Cardiology. Everyone was so happy and excited about it.

Then I rushed off to Ethics Committee and got sidelined by a new medical resident who wanted to talk ethics. I'm a sucker for this, so I stayed and we hatched a plan to integrate the medical residents into Catholic bioethical formation. As I walked back to my office, lunch balanced precariously across my portfolio, Sister Lourdes ran up beside me and grabbed my calendar. She penciled in "Orlando" in early December. St. Fozzie's is sending me and Carrie, the clinical informaticist, to Orlando to present all the posters! EVOO agreed, telling me to "go and learn it all."

I'm just so excited, but not just about going to Florida in December. It's deeper than that. In this blog, I've decently refrained from putting down my former boss at Muppet Corporate. I became quite accustomed to my former boss trying to cage me and keep me in a tiny box. She denied me responsibilities, kept me from conferences, refused my request to join a Six Sigma team, and even urged me to "not take school so seriously."

When opportunities like this happen, I'm recognized and rewarded for my hard work, and they actually encourage me to go out and better myself, it still amazes me. The contrast is unbelievable and I'm so grateful to my mentors at St. Fozzie's who are constantly pushing me (hard) to better myself. Did I mention that my first Six Sigma class is tomorrow? It only took three years to finally get into that class!

Show Me the Money!

I took over another project at work this past week. Cardinal Health (a real company) is offering several million in grants to hospitals trying to better their processes. Cardinal is specifically gearing these grants towards non-profit hospitals and their processes surrounding medication administration.

Ping!

That's where I come in. Remember those storyboards I slaved over for the Leadership Conference? The systemwide Six Sigma coordinator emailed me for synopses of the boards we created for St. Fozzie's, as he's entering us in another national conference. Since I had the synopses already completed, I sent these to Cardinal for first consideration of the grants, particularly in regard to our patient safety endeavors. They accepted and asked for a secondary, detailed proposal!

We're up for $100,000 here, so I'm very, VERY excited about making this happen. I got a team together today and we're meeting on Tuesday to expound upon our ideas. As all-time Scribe, it'll fall on my shoulders to complete the proposal....but that's okay, because I've been wanting to try my hand at large-scale grant-writing.

Now that I have immunity to H1N1, I can work my tail off again, right? I'm taking multi-vitamins! :-)

My Calendar and an Honor

Is it bad when you glance at your desk calendar and see that it's Monday, July 13? The Edge bought me this wonderful, tropically-nuanced desk calendar and I've WASTED nine days' of pretty photos!

In other news, I received a notice that I was nominated as an Early Careerist for the Indiana Healthcare Executive Network! This is huge, as I get to represent northern Indiana at the state level for the American College of Healthcare Executives! At this point in my career, I'm doing anything and everything that crosses my path. Unless they send me an invitation to join the Voodoo Appreciation League or Ladies' Terrorism Society!

No time to party, though. I'm drowning in file folders and committee notes that I have to synthesize in my brain. And weather permitting, I have a softball game tonight. When I last checked the doppler, there was a big mass of green, yellow, and orange heading this way...so we'll see! Then again, I could use a "night off" to catch up on my reading, house cleaning, laundry, exercise, cooking....

Today's an Ireland Day

I keep gazing out the window today, toiling away on my endless reports at work, and dreaming about Ireland. I can practically hear the guitar intro to U2's "Where the Streets Have No Name." Oh wait, that's just The Edge's radio on the other side of the wall. It's raining outside, a heavy drizzle that greens the grass in a day. It's cold, damp, and the gray clouds make my sinuses hurt. It's a good day to reflect, since my battered sinuses make me feel like closing my poor eyes anyway!

I spent a year of my life in Ireland, my sophomore year at Saint Mary's. It was a phenomenal year, marked with my first taste of real homesickness, staggering freedom and individuality from my family, and priceless memories that make me me. As I left Indiana for the first time ever, I left my roots. I left the expectations my family had of me. I'll never forget when the airplane dipped below the clouds, upon arrival into Dublin, and our eyes were met with a literal sea of green. I was free to become Dorrie, whoever she was destined to become. I learned to travel by myself, acquire the taste for Irish beer, calmly orient myself to new cities and surroundings, and how to dance an authentic Irish gig, as learned in a Gaelic-speaking pub on Inisheer. The Aran Islands (of which Inisheer is a part) are your usual, picturesque Ireland complete with stone fences, grazing sheep, and cliffs plummeting into the sea.

Last month, Jack and I had the pleasure of attending Gaelic Storm, in concert, at Notre Dame's Leighton Hall. Gaelic Storm is the band who played in Titanic, in the party scene below deck. As I listened to the band and the audience clapping and stomping their feet, I was transported back to the west coast of Ireland. It was a gray day with steady drizzle raining down on the Irish countryside. My friend and roomate in Ireland, Bewley, and I stomped through the mud to a little pub on the outskirts of Doolin, where we experienced an impromptu Irish jam session! Gaelic Storm reminded me of this experience.

It also reminded me that I won't get to experience neat things if I don't leave my comfort zone. I cannot help but be struck by the similarities between my year in Ireland and my upcoming year in Chicago. Just as I jetted off to a new land back then, I'm about to up and leave my roots once again. If it wasn't for having to leave Jack during the week, this transition wouldn't be that big of a deal. I'm realizing how much I'm going to miss him. He's my stronghold and I run all my personal and professional struggles by him. He has a worldly wisdom and with his leadership experience at work, he always shares priceless feedback with me. I'm so grateful for the times we've had together, the hilarious jokes, and the vacation memories...these will get me through while I bust through my comfort zone, yet again!

Excitedly Optimistic

Despite the doom and gloom of yet another rainy day, some moderate stress-induced chest discomfort, and a seemingly endless time crunch, I had an epiphany today. It struck me as I listened to Leona Lewis’ song “Bleeding Love” for the fifth time today. Whenever I flipped on a radio at work, jumped in the car, or even trucked along on the treadmill at the gym, Leona followed me. It dawned on me that, underneath it all, I’m thrilled about this transition.

Throughout the apartment-hunting fiasco and ongoing chats with Resources of the Human variety, I still felt a hesitance, one mixed with fear of the unknown. Leona’s repetitive performances reminded me that I’ll soon depart all the repetition and routine in my life. It’s so exciting! The pendulum finally moved from its precarious position exactly half-way between “scared out of my wits” and “hurray for this awesome experience” and is now resting at “excitedly optimistic.”

I spoke with my leasing consultant today, and she’s going to “guard” my first-choice residence for me. It’s the townhouse with cathedral ceilings, a whirlpool tub, and new appliances. I’ll admit, it’s way more than I need. In my defense, those features are standard in the market; what’s an undeniable bath-lover to do? I briefly tossed around the idea of living in my car, in the hospital’s parking garage. I could just see it…I’m standing in my PJ’s, brushing my teeth, waving to the CEO as he passes by on his way into the office.

Some of my excitement came from my acceptance of this townhouse. I felt like I didn’t deserve it and that it was wasteful. But my wise friend, Yoshi, instructed me to approach this property as if it’s a vacation home, as a safe, secure respite from the mind-numbing stress. You never *need* a vacation home, but you do need a safe, relaxing place to bathe!