Limits of Sanity

You know it's going to be a sucky day when your alarm clock shockingly blares you into Monday morning with the end of a Kings of Leon song and the news announcer tells you to get out of bed. Just as my heart-rate fell from "holy-freaking-crap-that-music's-loud" to "I-could-snooze-right-about-now," the weather man came on and said (verbatim):

"This is not the day to be a snooze-button abuser. Get your butt out of bed and get on the highway. This morning's commute will surely test the limits of your sanity."

Instead of rolling over for a six-minute snooze, I rolled my eyes, dug deep into my energy bank, and hit the shower. Snow? No problem! It's the end of February, this cold, white crap can't last much longer!

However, clearing 6 inches of 100 pound-per-square-inch snow off my car really tested the limits of my sanity. I cannot believe I actually (albeit briefly) entertained the idea of an associate administrator position in Fairbanks, Alaska! If I ever do something that drastic, just tie me to a chaise lounger on the beach because I've obviously gone past the limits of my sanity!

Irish Po-Po

Last night was a golly ol' hoot! Simply must tell you this story.

Jack came up to Chicagoland this weekend to give me a break. I needed a couple of days of sleeping in and not driving. Even though we were flying under the radar, we still wanted to go out Saturday night. We both had a hankering for good beer, mediocre food, and a wonderful atmosphere. So, naturally, we needed an Irish Pub.

After doing some online research, we ended up at Carraig's. We thought it would be cheesy, but ended up having a great time. The beer was great, the food mediocre, and one of my co-workers plopped down next to us (the one with whom I climbed the stairs). After beering and eating, we started wondering if we should go to the Wolfe Tones concert next door (even though we'd never heard much about the Wolfe Tones). I asked for tickets and we scored the last two in the house. So we went next door to the concert for some Irish cheer. The Wolfe Tones band is an old-school, rebel band that talks about the IRA and how much they hate Britain. The place was packed and the drinks were flowing. Oddly, it reminded me of an Irish version of Dyngus Day.

Our table was full of couples in their late 20's or early 30's, save for two guys across the way. The show barely started and they appeared to be having lots of fun already (which is code for, they each had two beers in front of them). After a bit of talking, we discovered they were both Chicago Policemen. They knew where St. Fozzie's is and told some harrowing tales about Fozzie Heights. We clapped along with the show and stomped our feet to the Irish music, but also chatted with these two guys all night. They are huge ND fans.

After the show, the guys invited us back to an Irish bar called Keegan's. No, we normally don't take people up on their invitations to after-parties, but we figured we could trust the cops (we did, however, turn down their offer of a police escort!) Sure enough, this place was great. It's on a whole row of Irish pubs; I know this part of Chicago is very Irish, but the sheer number of Irish pubs surprised me. Keegan's even served my favorite Irish cider on tap, Magners. After having a beer with our new cop friends and hearing all sorts of "real life cop" stories, we eventually returned to my Chicagoland pad to crash.

So while the night began innocently enough with Saturday evening mass, we stumbled across a great Irish pub, attended an Irish rebel band concert, met some new friends on Irish row, and really left our comfort zones!

New Cereal Idea

I just had a brilliant idea. Why do cereal manufacturers maintain such a dichotomy in cereal choices? When you're a kid and don't care about nutritional content, cereals such as Cocoa Pebbles, Trix, Cookie Crisp, and Lucky Charms completely count as a good breakfast. [Side note: my mom only let me have "sugary" cereals every other week. I had to have "healthy" stuff like Cinnamon Toast Crunch or Life on odd weeks.]

Anyway, I would love to sponsor a contest where such "responsible" cereal manufacturers, such as Kashi, Quaker, and whomever makes Fiber One battle to create a healthy Lucky Charms. I need a Lucky Charms with high nutritional value and decent fiber content! Can they please cross Total with Lucky Charms? Total Charms? Totally Lucky?!

Yes, that's what we'll call it: Totally Lucky.

Which is exactly the attitude I've chosen to have these last two days. I've been so stressed out and completely swamped that my body is threatening to break down. Not sick-wise (well, maybe that, too), but the muscles in my body are a wreck. I have knots the size of tennis balls. Maybe this provides a business case for the in-house masseuse position I'm creating in my Chicagoland pad?

Just kidding, Jack!

Anyway, I decided I'm Totally Lucky. I was asked to attend a corporate Muppet Lean/Six Sigma meeting at St. Piggy's. St. Piggy's is a scant 2.5 hours away and required 5 hours on the road. I spent all of Thursday afternoon working in Business Development (the finance and revenue numbers that must be compiled and organized before hospital-wide decisions are made...after five hours of this, my eyes were bleeding and I wanted to fall on a letter opener so I could escape that office). So Friday morning, I was one tired pup and I was so sad I had to travel the Interstates for 5 hours.

On the way to St. Piggy's, I watched the sun rise over the snow-covered flatlands and had a sudden change of heart. Maybe it was the Vitamin D I absorbed from the sun, maybe it was the realization that, a year or so ago, I couldn't even fathom receiving invites to corporate meetings. Thinking about how far I've come, I felt lighter....more in-control....and happier.

The meeting was phenomenal. We actually had to play a Pictionary game accented with Charades (to make a couple of communication-related concepts real) and we all received Mr. Potato Head dolls after a simulation on the importance of correct and tight processes. I actually had fun and I asked a lot of questions. This was the first corporate meeting where I didn't feel braindead and raw after the meeting's conclusion!

Either the subject matter was much easier to grasp, I wasn't so worried about the other execs' perceptions of me, or I'm just getting used to these forums. I'm not sure what's going on, but I loved it. I had enough energy left on the ride home to make an hour-long call to Business Development. Then my brain was mush! Still, though, I'm totally lucky.

Quote Journal: A Rock

"If work makes you cry, take some time off and re-evaluate." -Nurse Jackie

Nurse Jackie, during an off-the-cuff conversation between our offices at 6:45pm on a Thursday evening, told me about a doctor who used to make her cry.

This is a tough and unemotional lady. She's probably one of those women who, after watching sob-fests like "Blindside" or "The Notebook" probably rolled her eyes in disgust and said something like, "Get over it, people. Everyone dies."

Maybe I'm over-exaggerating, but she's a tough cookie. That's why she's a dynamo CNO and can easily lead 1500 people.

Regardless, in this after-hours discussion, she told me about a terrible, mean, soul-crushing physician she used to work with. The preface of the conversation was that a) you shouldn't let physicians and their difficult personalities get to you and b) when you're breaking down into tears, you're obviously overly exhausted and you need to step back and see why this is affecting you so deeply. I gathered that this rock-hard personality wasn't always so impenetrable; some of the thick-skin is learned and acquired along the way.

Fast-forward to me, a mess on Wednesday night. I was *so* tired I made two crucial mistakes. First, after along and arduous meeting, I got into the passenger side of my car and sat there for a second before realizing Jack was not going to be there to cart me around! Apparently my psyche wanted to be driven so it could rest. And two, I set up my coffee pot before collapsing in bed, so it would be ready to go at the flip of a switch. I staggered to bed only to wake up 20 minutes later to the smell of freshly-brewed Starbucks. Turns out I didn't just set up the coffee pot, but I turned it on, too. Whoops.

I'm taking these signs as a sign that I am overworking myself. I know, I know, please hold your applause to the end of the show. Nurse Jackie's advice spoke deeply to me, that I need to start separating myself from my job a bit. I'm taking things too seriously. While I'm making awesome waves and receiving system-wide accolades, it will not be a good thing if I end up in my own Cath Lab, getting my arteries stented from obscene stress!

Policies

I found out I have to write a policy (actually, several policies) detailing the creation of the stroke program at St. Fozzie's.

I have no idea when and why to write policies. I don't know when you need them and when you do not. Part of this is governance training, part of it is my lack of experience in this remaining frontier of Administration.

Alas, I went online and dug through the policies we have for St. Fozzie's. There are about 5,280. I'm not even sure I'm exaggerating. They cover Administration, Patient Care Services, Education, Rehab, Cardiovascular, and even when to dance around in a circle with glee because they have Stuffed Pepper soup in the Cafeteria.

Anyway, in that list I found a policy called "Guidelines for Issuing and Reviewing Policies."

Seems simple enough, right? A policy on how to write a policy?

Going Cold Candy

Today's Ash Wednesday, the solemn kick-off to the Catholic season of self-denial and greater attention toward spiritual growth.

Oddly, I've never minded Lent. The Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays seem so lavish that, after New Year's, I'm ready to settle down and live a simpler life. I find it necessary to root out all that lavish extravagance and return to normal. Typically, I start my Lenten resolutions at New Year's, taking an inventory of my life and where I'd like to change and improve things.

For instance, this year, I looked at my life and saw an awful lot of stress. Most of this comes with the territory as a newbie administrator. However, I need not get carried away with the stress so that I'm having chest pains and feeling the world on my shoulders. There's a big difference between working your butt off to make something happen for yourself and working your butt off knowing, with full faith, that everything will work out in the end. Now THAT's faith.

I swear that if I ever heard God's voice, He would say something like, "What if I told you that you'd never have to worry about anything ever again? Done! Now go play!"

This stressful worrying/fretting is a spiritual obstacle of mine (whoa, this is getting deep for the Swimming blog!). So to remedy this deficiency, I decided to make one of my New Year's resolutions one of bathtime. One bath a week. I've kept this resolution with the exception of one week (and I had a few weeks in there where I took two, so that equals out, right?!). My other early Lenten/New Year's resolutions included regular grocery shopping, to avoid all excuse-making, and of course, to just keep swimming.

I haven't kept the grocery shopping one. This is big because I'm denying myself proper nutrition. Seriously, does frozen corn and a Lean Cuisine pizza even count as a proper meal? Don't get me started about breakfast. If it isn't make of coffee beans and creamer, it ain't happenin'.

I have made great progress on the no-excuses resolution. This is intangible, though, and it's so subjective to my moods, my workload, and the weather. Lenten resolutions need to be finite and measurable. And of course I've kept swimming; I'm still here to tell my story and have survived the curve balls of the last few months.

So I resort back to my gold standard for Lenten resolutions. The sacrifice that rivals all sacrifices for me (and most 5-year olds). Yes, I'm giving up chocolate. Again.

Don't laugh, this will be super-hard for me. There are three candy bowls in Administration alone and the administrators all have candy dishes in their offices, overflowing with M&M's, Kisses, Mr Goodbars, and even Reese's. I eat a piece here or there almost every day and if there's anyway to make myself thing about God more, it's denying myself candy. God will cross my mind 49 times a day.

I don't mind reducing myself to the level of a 5-year old in this traditional Lenten ritual of mine; if anything, small steps in matters like these usually lead to larger growth.

Except that I have to do it cold turkey. I mean, cold candy.

I Fought the Law

I feel quite accomplished today and equally exhausted. I made it through another round of Code Stroke, Physician Recruitment, and Lean Six Sigma in Surgery Throughput meetings (all of which I'm leading, by the way...does that explain my exhaustion? Probably so. I found out yesterday that I'm now responsible for three Six Sigma projects at St. Fozzie's...so I'm teaching the biweekly three-hour classes and serving as a consultant of sorts while also learning all this stuff myself. Makes for an interesting experience). Then I had a physician dinner tonight with the OB/Gyne department, which I actually blew off...even Dorrie has her breaking points and one more late night out would've been the perpetual nail in the coffin.

Tomorrow's an all-day meeting at St. Animals and Friday's an all-day meeting at St. Piggy's. I was supposed to go to SB for a meeting at Muppet Corporate on Thursday, but I bailed becuase I have one last committee at which I must present the stroke order sets. It's another week where I'm rackin' up the mileage on the ol' Toyota. I need a heated massage chair in my car.

I have a song stuck in my head, the one one from the '60's that says, "I fought the law and the law won." Except that I wrote the law. I can't remember if I told you before, so I'll tell you again (teehee). When St. Fozzie's put me in charge of the stroke program's creation in October, I quickly contacted the Illinois Department of Public Health (IDPH) to see what the regulatory language was. One of the policy analysts wrote me back and said they hadn't drafted the language yet and did I have anything I'd like to see included?

I dropped what I was doing and scrawled out a list of 40+ facets I would like to see addressed. They were generic, as it was up to Illinois to figure out the specifics. I sent off my list and the policy analyst replied, thanking me for my time and input.

I forgot about that exchange until about one hour after my stroke presentation last Wednesday. My Blackberry buzzed to life and I saw that policy analyst's name pop up in my inbox. I quickly opened the message and found that Illinois did, indeed, draft the language in rough format. The policy analyst requested that I edit the rules and help formalize the regulatory language.

Since I spent all weekend painting, I didn't get to the law-writing until Monday afternoon. And I didn't write as much as I poked holes in their logic, cited inconsistencies, and pointed out areas that needed additional clarification. These people at the IDPH need an introductory course in logic and reasoning!

Now, I know this is a strange fluke, that I'm not truly qualified to be helping write state laws. But since I asked for info and submitted my suggestions in October, I must have stuck in the analysts' minds. Whatever the case, isn't that a cool resume-builder?! How many times do people get to help write laws?

Valentine's Day BandAid

I spent the entire weekend painting. I painted closets, trim, walls, and even heating vents. My manicure is chipped, but Jack and I crossed about ten things off our list.

Our list of stuff to accomplish before we list our house. It's three pages long.

I guess it's no surprise that we've been preparing to sell. With the job offers I've received in Chicago, it only makes sense that we start preparing our house for the market. There are some projects we've needed to complete, rooms that needed a refreshing coat of paint, and hardware that's been needing updating since we've lived there. Even if, for some reason, we don't have to move, these projects needed completion anyway.

Did I mention that it's been six years as of yesterday? We closed on our house on February 14, 2004. We pulled out of the title company with our keys and drove to our new house. We immediately started cleaning, planning, and gutting. Jack handed me my key and said, "Happy Valentine's Day, honey." It was the most expensive V-Day gift I'll ever receive!

It was weird to spend Valentine's Weekend 2010 up to our eyeballs in paint. We truly came full-circle. On Saturday night, we hauled our exhausted and paint-splattered bodies into showers and Jack whipped up a Panko-encrusted salmon, broccoli, and wedge salads. Jack handed me my plate and said, "Happy Valentine's Day, honey." In our pj's, we enjoyed our feast, barely able to keep our eyes open long enough to finish dinner and watch the two Korean short-track speed skaters crash, giving Ono the silver medal.

Sunday was more of the same. We finished the third bedroom, the trim, the closet, and painted the whole bathroom (it's pretty). Oh, and we recaulked everything in the house that ever needs caulk. I left SB with a sore, shaky-exhausted body and hole somewhere in my heart.

Everyone in my life seems to be moving on. Some of my family members have retired, sought new jobs, and they're adjusting to these changes. A few of my friends found new jobs, are having babies, or found new love. Others are moving on. I'm moving on, too.

Except that some people don't see my progression as, well, progression. They see it more as a threat to the family structure and cannot understand why I would ever leave SB for a job. To them, family is of the utmost importance and everything else is secondary. Family is crucial to me; anyone who knows me well knows that. But I've been given such a gift in this job. I've been encouraged to spread my wings, own my boardroom experience, and make something great of myself. You don't get many chances like this; I'm not naive to this opportunity.

I have a mentor who, after my presentation on Wednesday, jumped up and shook his fist in the air, celebrating my success along with me. It reminded me of the Olympics coaches who exhibit such excitement when their athletes win the gold. They jump up, shake their fist in the air, celebrating with the athletes' hard work and dedication that always pay off in the end.

That's what I need right now. Even if a select few do not agree with my bi-timezone existence, professional dreams, and possible departure from SB, please fake it. Pretend you're happy for me (and Jack). I need positive support right now because as tough as this is for you, it's even tougher for me. I'm straddling two lives and this year has been akin to pulling a bandaid off a wound, very s-l-o-w-l-y.

I went downtown to meet some of my newbie administrator friends for dinner tonight. We went to Sidebar and did our usual "what's your hospital life like?" discussions. While everyone's moving on and slowly transitioning into specific areas in their respective hospitals, no one has to deal with prepping a house and selling in this cruddy economic market. That's a unique worry of mine. Jack's shouldering a huge portion of this burden and I'm very grateful he's strong and persevering in these household endeavors!

Thank you for listening to me vent. Everyone in this forum seems to deeply support me. I am grateful for you and cherish the positive feedback and pep talks you've sent my way.

Speech and First Look

I had a couple of "regularly scheduled" blogs post during the last couple of days. They're place-holders. Let me tell you what *really* happened these last few days! Go get a snack because this will be lengthy!

Let's start with Tuesday. I had lunch with Bob the Builder, one of the Materials Management/Facilities guys I've worked with for years. He told me a secret (guess it's not really a secret if I post it here, eh?) about my office. He asked Elvis if he could have my c-suite office after my year is over. Elvis said no, that he wasn't planning on moving me from Administration and no, Bob couldn't have the office. Even though this was third-party, it boosted my spirits through the sky. Then again, the sun brilliantly shone all day and maybe THAT's what boosted my spirits.

Then on Wednesday, I loaded my house onto my back and took 2 days' worth of clothing and stuff with me as I went into work for a few hours. I had to be downtown Chicago for 11:30 am, so I only had a few hours to work. Nurse Jackie and I worked on a couple things and the morning zipped by. Next thing I knew, it was time to drive downtown.

Now let me tell you, I'm getting better at driving in Chicago. The highways are fine, I know where I'm going, but I'm still intimidated by inner-city streets. However, I was on the Dan Ryan into town and a car went screaming past me at 100mph+++ . Then about 16 cop cars were weaving in and out of traffic, trying to catch the assailant. Yes, I found myself in the middle of a high-speed chase and kept envisioning myself on an episode of Cops. Worse yet, one of my co-workers died that way (by being hit by a high-spped assailant), so my nerves were just awful.

With jangled nerves, I drove to the Four Seasons. Luckily, they have a fast valet service and check-in service, so I was up in my 39th floor room in about 5 minutes. This was my view...

My room was just...well...incredible. I see why they can charge $400-600 a night for the place. They think of EVERYTHING. Not only is everything down-stuffed and wonderful, they had top-rate toiletries, flat screen plasma tv's, surround sound cd player, and a tub that rivaled ancient Rome. I have an affinity for tubs and this one was great. When Jack joined me Wednesday night, I knew he'd take a man-bath (a Math). I instantly wanted to crawl into the bed and just relax.

However, I was in town for the Medical Executive Leadership Retreat. This is where administrators and physicians hang out and create relationships. So after noon, I left my wonderful room and went down to the Four Seasons dining room...where we noshed on wonderful shrimp, tortellini, goat cheese and pancetta-stuffed chicken, and espresso cheesecake. During lunch, I kept wondering why I wasn't nervous for my presentation. I was scheduled to speak at 3:00 and it was noon...when would the nerves hit?

Well, the nerves DID hit. But not until I was delayed from 3 to 4:00 pm. I was ready to go and I had the new Black Eyed Peas song stuck in my head ("Imma Be") and felt empowered. I then had to sit there while one of the lawyers went on and on about risk management. I was okay, though, and went on-stage with a glowing introduction from Elvis.

I took the stage and rocked it. I never really felt nervous because I KNOW my material. It came out naturally and conversationally. I fielded some questions and it was over. That was it! I sat down, still wondering when the nerves would really hit.

I was next-to-last for the day, so after the final presentation, the group dispersed and I went back up to my room. Passing through the Four Seasons lobby, I saw the back of Jack's head. Reunited! We had about two hours before we were expected for dinner at the Signature Room, we perused the Williams-Sonoma and stopped in for a quick glass of vino at Jilly's, our favorite Rush Street haunt.

Then we went to dinner at Signature Lounge. Thank goodness, it was a clear night and the view from the 95th floor of Hancock was amazing as always. We hob-nobbed with some docs and Jack did so well talking to everyone. He ordered the filet and I, trying to be healthy, ordered grouper. It came with some bright-green herb-rub smeared all over it, eliciting all sorts of Dr. Seuss rhymes in my head (Green Eggs and Fish? One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Green Fish?). Jack, my valiant partner, shared some of his filet with me (after a fair bit of prompting on my part!). Dinner went until after 10 and we were zonked. We retired to our room at the Four Seasons.

The next morning, I rolled out of bed and hit my morning line-up of meetings. Jack hit the gym and took his math (should I admit that?!). My meetings concluded at noon and we had three hours before we needed to get ready for the First Look. So we walked around WaterTower Mall and lunched at Gibson's on Rush. Deciding to stay on the frugal side, we ordered sandwiches. Prime Rib sandwiches. When the sandwich melts in your mouth, you know you've found a good thing. Luckily for us, Jilly's is right across from Gibson's, so we have two favorite haunts on Rush now. It was oddly relaxing to take our time over a late lunch, enjoying the world's best Prime Rib.

Eventually, though, we had to return to the hotel and get dressed for First Look. Jack donned his tux and I slipped into my LBD. We ended up escorting Sister Lourdes to the Auto Show too, as we left at the same time. That was...interesting! Sister took shotgun while Jack navigated the city streets at rush hour.

We made it to McCormick Place and to the Auto Show. St. Fozzie's had its own hospitality suite with an open bar and world-class eats. We talked with other ceo's in Muppetville, Board members, and other people I work with daily. It was fun to see everyone in their duds.

After an hour or so, we left the suite and entered the auto show proper. It was GREAT. They take the velvet ropes down and you can climb all over the cars and live out your wildest dreams. I loved the Shelby, the new Lexus sportscar convertible (yeah, right!), and most importantly, the two-door Nissan Altima sports coupe. It was my favorite and promise it'll be my next car.
We ambled around the car exhibits for a couple hours, sipping champagne, sitting in many cars, and catching up with several of my co-workers. I highly recommend the experience and we'll attend this event again next year.

We drove home (no high speed chases on the Dan Ryan, thank you!) and hit Wendy's on the way home. We were so into the cars that we forgot to eat the appetizers at the First Look!

Winter Olympics

I just love the Olympics and am very happy they've again descended on prime time television. It's my favorite sporting 'event' after ND football and the US Open.

The Olympics is so inspiring to me. Olympians trade hard physically, emotionally, and psychologically to excel in their sports. They're often young and lived their whole lives to perform among the world's best. They're on stage in front of at least 100 million people and often have a few minutes (or seconds) to separate themselves from the pack and make history. Too, they often suffer heartache, loss, and suffering before really hitting the gold (pun intended).
This realization belittles the scruitiny I feel that I'm under and makes it seem less severe!

Olympians truly remind me of bouncy balls....it only matters how high you bounce after you hit rock bottom.