Jack's Surprise

Well, I thought this year's anniversary was bust, but it's not!

And by "bust," I meant "not that exciting" and "we'll do something cooler next year."

I was wrong!

I came home from work yesterday and Jack presented me with two tickets to the sold-out Bon Jovi concert at Soldier Field...tonight! Kid Rock is opening for Bon Jovi and while I don't particularly care for Kid Rock, it's still going to be a great show. Chicago radio has been advertising this concert for weeks and weeks and I kept sighing with angst that we probably wouldn't be able to find tickets. Jack found us tickets.

Hurray! That's exactly what I need after a killer week...an outdoor arena concert at a huge venue, a bunch of yelling people, and a chance to rock out to hair band music from the '80's!

Breakin' Some Glass

It's been a long time since I've even turned on my laptop at home! My last real post was the "boo hoo, I'm leaving my home" post. I'm pretty much over it. I promise. At least for now!

This week redefined "crazy." There were a few times when I honestly thought I was going to stroke out. My blood pumped hard through my veins and I started seeing spots, both of which are signs of (very) high blood pressure!

It started out with my usual plethora of Monday meetings and between all the fires I had to extinguish, I was stuck at work into the evening. Ditto that on Tuesday, so by Wednesday (my wedding anniversary with Jack!), I had already surpassed 40 hours and was dragging major tail. To celebrate the occasion, Jack booked us at a cozy little steakhouse nearby, where they put fresh flowers on our table to honor our anniversary. After a glass of wine and with a full belly, I fell fast asleep at the late witching hour of 8:30 pm.

Sorry about that, Jack! I'll make it up to you!

While this year was a bust, we're traveling to Maui for our ten-year anniversary next year. We're going to renew our vows on the beach in Maui at sunset, just like we talked about on our honeymoon, nine years ago. It's one of those landmark dreams and while I envisioned Jack sliding a new diamond-crusted band on my finger, I kind of like my old, plain, beat-up gold wedding band. It's been through a lot…as have we!

Work continued its trademark craziness yesterday and today, as I logged longer hours than I ever have before. But some of the hours I've been spending are with physicians, advancing those relationships and building better bridges between the hospital's administration and the medical groups. Other hours are my ongoing projects and committees. And still others are where I'm "breakin' some glass" and reorganizing departments and starting new programs.

That's the administrators' expression for change. We're "breakin' some glass!" We joke that we're borrowing each others' hammers and that folks should wear thick-soled shoes so they don’t cut their feet on the glass! So that's what I've really be doing, is breakin' some glass!

Jazz Hands

I think you all know that I'm a workaholic (which, I admit, I'm blurring the line between my adamant perfectionism and workaholism). However, I found a way of dealing with the stress when I'm stuck at the office alone, late at night...I play jazz music. Snappy, upbeat jazz.

I actually learned this idea from Mel Gibson. Okay, it wasn't Mel Gibson, but his film "What Women Want." I hated that movie and it's archaic, inaccurate portrayal of feminist philosophy, but I loved the woman that Helen Hunt played (oh stop, that's not what I mean!). She exuded authority and excellence in her work as a Marketing exec (ahem, in Chicago!). She stayed late in the office, by herself, and survived the late evenings with a good dose of jazz. When I break out the jazz, I feel less frazzled, I take a deep breath, and it jumpstarts my creative brain cells.

And I'm not claiming allegiance to Miles Davis or John Coltrane exclusively. They're both phenomenal artists!

I just realized it's time to visit Andy's Jazz Club again!

Joke Journal: Fat Theology

Things have been a bit heavy in Blogville and I need to lighten up the atmosphere around here! I found the below and it hit my dorky theologian-turned-administrator-soon-to-be-ethicist funny bone!

....

And God populated the earth with broccoli and cauliflower and spinach, green and yellow vegetables of all kinds, so Man and Woman would live long and healthy lives.

And Satan created McDonald’s. And McDonald’s brought forth the 99-cent double-cheeseburger. And Satan said to Man, “You want fries with that?” And Man said, “Super size them.” And Man gained pounds.

And God created the healthful yogurt, that woman might keep her figure that man found so fair.

And Satan brought forth chocolate. And woman gained pounds.

And God said, “Try my crispy fresh salad.”

And Satan brought forth ice cream. And woman gained pounds.

And God said, “I have sent your heart healthy vegetables and olive oil with which to cook them.”

And Satan brought forth chicken-fried steak so big it needed its own platter. And man gained pounds and his bad cholesterol went through the roof.

And God brought forth running shoes and Man resolved to lose those extra pounds.

And Satan brought forth cable TV with remote control so Man would not have to toil to change channels between ESPN and ESPN2. And Man gained pounds.

And God said, “You’re running up the score, Devil.” And God brought forth the potato, a vegetable naturally low in fat and brimming with nutrition.

And Satan peeled off the healthful skin and sliced the starchy center into chips and deep-fat fried them. And he created sour cream dip also. And Man clutched his remote control and ate the potato chips swaddled in cholesterol. And Satan saw and said, “It is good.” And Man went into cardiac arrest.

And God sighed and created quadruple bypass surgery.

And Satan created HMOs!

Closure

This weekend has been emotionally exhausting.

After work on Friday, I was so stinkin' tired. I came home from work at 6:45 and as soon as I set my belongings down and kicked off my high heels, it started pouring down rain. Glad the rain canceled the parish festival we were planning on visiting, I glanced at the bed and saw that Jack washed the sheets and had the bed made impeccably. I couldn't not take a short nap.

Three hours later, I got up and ate dinner!

Anyway, I worked for a while on Saturday and after vacillating between visiting SkyBlue and Lou, we eventually bit the bullet and drove back to SB in the afternoon so we could log some pool time.

It was HOT. Sizzling, blazingly hot. We jumped into a 87 degree pool. My folks ran to the store for BBQ fixin's and we literally spent the whole evening and night outside. We swam every hour or so after dinner, unless the lightning from the south scared us enough to actually drive us out of the pool. I think we went in around 1 a.m.

After brunch this morning, we logged a few more pool hours then decided we needed to hit the road. It's strange...I realized that I change if I stay in SB too long. Any more than 24 hours, and I start slipping into my old self. I can see myself living there, buying the for-sale house behind my folks' house (the one we talked about buying for years, before our plans changed), and being happy with the same ol' job, year after year. When 3 pm hit this afternoon, I realized I had to get out of there. Had Jack and I had babies and I was a stay-at-home mom, that would have been the perfect arrangement. As it is, we're living the opposite life.

So we left. I felt very bittersweet (more bitter!). Before we could drive back to the Chi, we had to stop at the old house and double-check everything before the next round of inspections start. Yes, we're under contract again, but I'm not doing anything to jinx it (including even mentioning that we have a closing date!). We had to reinstall a few smoke detectors (to placate FHA) and pick up huge sticks knocked down by the storms. Jack clicked the garage door opener and I dashed inside.

Walking into the empty kitchen, a wall of sadness hit me. I set my purse down and took in the empty expanse of dining room, living room, bedrooms, etc. I hadn't been in there since moving day, 5 weeks ago. The place smelled like drywall and plaster, but held up well without my TLC to keep it standing.

Jack was outside with the neighbors and I took my time wandering through the empty hallway, sunlight filtering through the western-facing windows. I then leaned against the wall in the living room, where the couch always sat. I envisioned the Easter dinners, birthdays, Memorial Day cookouts, and Christmases with family; the five house-bound weeks I spent in February '06, healing from that awful surgery; the dramatic lake-effect snowfalls where Jack and I would take turns shoveling; and all the nights I'd sit at the cafe table in the kitchen and watch Jack cook. I remembered the living room all decked-out in Christmas decorations; sitting in front of the fireplace on cold, dark winter nights; joking and laughing in the three-season "Caribbean" room on weekend nights; doing dishes while looking out the kitchen window, watching neighbor kids play; and doing 95% of my grad school homework at the dining room table.

It was our home. The place we returned to each evening, to share our fears, our dreams, our successes, and our laughter. Walking through the empty house felt like a dreamscape; while I lived there for seven years, it hit me in the gut that it's no longer capital-H Home. Neither is SB.

I never had those intense feelings of sadness and loss on moving day. I was too worried about orchestrating the move and our helping hands. But in going back today, just to install smoke detectors, I found myself grieving not only the house, but the move from SB, and the distance from our parents.

It seemed so easy to rip that proverbial band-aid off when I accepted the job in the Chi. I kept telling everyone to just be happy for me! But now that it's actually dawned on me that I no longer have ties to SB, I feel a bit homeless. I keep thinking of that empty house, merely a ghostly shell that intensifies my memories. WE made that house a Home and now we have to create a new Home.

I take extreme comfort and joy in one fact...Jack's here with me now in Chicagoland and neither one of us had to drive away tonight.

Yuppie Wisdom

So Mom D recently bought Jack a book for his birthday called The One Week Job Project. I thought it was going to be a flippant read, as a Generation-Y idealist job-hopped across continents and flashed his yuppie smile at willing employers (yeah, I'm not one for stereotyping). I was surprised when I learned a few things from the youngster who tried out 52 jobs in one year, traveling around North America to find his passion.

Did I just say "youngster?" Wow, I must be 91 years old!

Two significant ideas jumped out at me from this book: passion and fear. With fear, you cannot seek your passion. When you decided to seek your passion, you must overcome the recurring fear you experience.

For instance, one week, the writer tried out entrepreneurship. He asked the entrepreneur about his best advice on overcoming fear (entrepreneurs have reason to be fearful!). His response was to ask, "What would you do if you weren't afraid? As soon as you put that fear aside, compartmentalize it, then you can move forward."

At that point, I had to dog-ear that page, set the book down, and ponder this. Hmmm. What would I do if I weren't afraid? Luckily, I haven't let fear tie me down too tightly, but there's still room to explore this. For instance, my first reaction told me I should sell all my belongings, move to the outer barrier islands of the Bahamas, and set up a B&B. I keep joking about this as an escape route to my hospital-administrator-life, but I'm starting to wonder if there's a seed of truth there.

More realistically, I realized how much power we give fear. Why do we allow fear to run our lives? Why do we cater to fear as though it's the prudent thing to do?

Picking the book back up, the writer turned his attention to the meaning of success. This quote was great: "If you're able to find something that allows you to express your interest, your creativity, and that you're passionate about--to me, that's success. Not how big your bank account is, not how proud your mom and dad are, but that you're doing it for yourself and that you're getting something out of it through which you're continuing to grow."

"Success" is easily defined by society as money, prestige, the white-picket fence. I think this guy has it right...finding something you're passionate about and DOING IT, well, that's success. Who cares how fat your bank account is if you're miserable and dreading the workweek on Sunday evenings?

Finally, the last tidbit I captured from this book describes the melding of the two notions of passion and success...."A career is merely one vehicle to fulfill our passion."

If I choose the right career that fulfills my passion, I will inevitably become successful at it. I will be expressing my interests, defining my creativity, and engaging in my passion...how can you NOT be successful at a job that meets all those fundamentally-human desires?

So after all of this motivational talk, the key seems to be knowing oneself. You cannot start out on this journey of passion and success without knowing what makes you tick. What fires you up? What makes you excited to get out of bed in the morning?

You go figure it out for yourself and I'll go do the same (from under my covers in bed!).

On a Steeeeeeeck

I'm hazarding to say that today was my first REAL day as an administrator. How many "first days" do I have to have?

I'm in a fantastic mood because I finally feel like I’m starting to get it. Now, as soon as I go and say that out loud, my world will probably fall apart.

But hey, that's what wine is for, right?

Kidding. Well, sort of!

This week's been one for the ages; Monday consisted of 14 hours of work, Tuesday was 10 hours plus a double-header (We won our first game EVER! Granted, we almost blew it in the last inning, but we WON!). Sore and exhausted, I talked myself up and out of bed Wednesday morning to schmooze with physicians at the medical staff golf outing. It was freaking hot out there; several people got sick from the heat and had to go home. Then again, that's the place to get sick. There were 82 doctors hanging around. Three of my personal faves are the personable general surgeon, the vascular surgeon, and one of the orthopods (orthopedic surgeons). The medical staff golf outing is fun, but by 6pm, I was dragging and drove home through squinty, blurry eyes (always fun on the Interstate). All I can say is "thank you!" to Jack. He's been the best wife ever, doing my cooking and cleaning and laundry. He's been whipping up dinner on nights I've been so tired I might have opted for starvation over dinner.

Who am I kidding. It would have been Wendy's!

Anyway, today was a GREAT day. I arrived bright and early and my first meeting was a patient complaint. Those are tough and you always have to help the family find closure when they have a bad experience at your hospital. Then I had two one-on-ones with my managers. One of the managers is doing great, she's growing her service line and looks profitable. The other, well, let's just say they have some work needed. I'm taking my proverbial hammer in there and breaking it up. They've run amuck and I'm taking over interim management of the department. I don't really have time to manage a department like that, but until I find someone who can, I will have to take over. Again, I had that "my office is a confessional" feeling, but it was good to hear their verbal vomit about their department's inner-workings (or lackthereof!).

At that point, it was only 10am!

Then I had an emergency meeting with our gastroenterologists, as we quickly reformulate their block scheduling. I've been doing this learn-as-I-go thing with block scheduling in the operating rooms. Certain docs have "reservations" in the OR's and we block that time for them. But they all want the same times, so we end up with a massive puzzle to piece together.

Then I went up to our chief medical officer's office (about a 1/2 mile away through the hospital corridors) and had a chat about patient throughput bottlenecks up on the nursing units. I'm presenting to the ER physicians in early August to identify incorrect practice patterns.

THEN I raced across town to the other hospital campus where I was 3 minutes late to my own meeting. I met the new CEO of Beakergroup and we took turns grilling each other throughout the meeting. That relationship will be good, but that takes time.

THEN I went to fix all my employees' security requirements. We have to track how much access everyone has (since we deal with sensitive patient information).

THEN Nurse Jackie bribed me with a Rice Krispie Treat on a stick, dipped in wonderful white chocolate. Savoring our (calorie-free) treats, we got a chance to sit down and share our days. I'm thrilled with our growing work relationship; we're getting to the point where we can just about finish each others' sentences (this is a time saver!).

Today was one of the first few days where I didn't feel like a deer in headlights. I could make confident decisions and know they were right. I'm learning to trust my gut when I meet new people or speak with the docs. It's a good feeling and even though I'm working my fool head off at work and feel seriously sleep-deprived, I still love my job.

Now onto the important stuff. Does anyone know where to buy frosted Rice Krispie's on a stick?

Running Shoes

My latest news is that Muppet Corporate asked me to officially become the Chicago region's representative for the corporate Lean Six Sigma steering committee. The LSS Committee is actually pretty neat, despite my being so very green at all of this. I'm literally only a Green Belt (the three other reps from the other areas have years of study as Black Belts), but this is giving me a chance to further develop my teaching and leadership skills as I add the "lean" or "improvement" dimension to projects all over the place. I'll be doing a site visit to St. Piggy's here in a few weeks, especially because the new electronic medical record rollout (Epic) requested the help of the Lean Six Sigma team.

Hey, it's all resume-building material and I really enjoy it. Just the other day, I lead another patient throughput brainstorm, this time on the inpatient side. It was an *animated* conversation and all sorts of sidebar problems emerged. I filled up 6 pages of newsprint, just scribing the ideas for further discussion. I'm excited because the ER Throughput focus is commonplace around the country. Everyone's doing that. However, the inpatient throughput angle is new and we may be pioneers...no one is really doing anything about it yet and there's a definite need. It'll take hours and hours to organize this initiative, but if there's one thing EVOO has taught me so far, it's to run at problems. If you see a problem that needs to be fixed, run at it and do everything you can to fix it yourself.

He claims that's how careers are made. I agree, but am still learning the balance of which problems I can fix and which I just need to identify and then hand off to someone else to fix.

Plus, I have a feeling I'm going to need better running shoes!

Paint the Place Pink

Nurse Jackie and I have become nearly inseparable the last few weeks. I've transitioned into my role and am beginning to feel comfortable being over the outpatient areas (well, I have the illusion of control!). However, that job title is about 20% of my job, as I'm still very focused on a lot of other stuff. That big operational project I've been talking about? Well, I still cannot talk about it, but I'm going to henceforth refer to is as "The Craziness Project."

The Craziness Project is eating up everyone's time, as we're spending hours and hours talking to physicians. We need them to buy in to the idea and provide feedback. EVOO and Nurse Jackie bring me into meetings to help organize their thoughts, plans, and next steps. The learning curve has been steep, but I am actually starting to feel like I contribute to the team (again, maybe I have the illusion of contribution?)

Anyway, at the end of last week, all the "guys" (consisting of Elvis, EVOO, Cookie Monster, and all the male VP's) were out at corporate meetings or on vacation. It was literally just Nurse Jackie and me. Nurse Jackie kept reminding me that we're in charge and that the girls are running the hospitals.

This has happened before, where she and I are the only administrators in the house. During those times, she'll text me and say "It's time to paint the place pink!"

Probably Just Nuts

So I'm probably nuts and you're all shaking your heads in confusion and disbelief as I announce my latest news...

I'm pregnant!

[Waits for the applause and cheering]

What, no applause and cheering?

[Hears only crickets chirping]

Wow, tough crowd!

OF COURSE, I'm kidding.

[What would you have done if I really was pregnant? Maybe I would have gotten a baby shower? I've only purchased 29 baby monitors, 34 onesies, and 12 hooded bath towels for other folks having babies! Oh, anyone reading this gets pregnant soon, you know what you'll get from me...a baby monitor, a onesie, and a hooded towel!]

Anyway, what I REALLY wanted to tell you is that I'm returning to graduate school.

[Waits for cheering and applause]

Wow, you guys are tough!

In all seriousness, I am planning my return to grad school to work on my M.A. in Theology. It sounds nuts, I know, but I feel like this part of me is hanging unfinished in the intellectual puzzle of my life. I started a Master's at Notre Dame while I was still in my undergrad. I bailed on it after one (very legalistic) class, knowing it wasn't the right time to pursue that education. Now that I've landed a great job and know where I'm heading career-wise, the M.A. will allow me to stretch my philosophical muscles and study what I really love.

[Yes, the idea of an MBA crossed my mind briefly...for about 2 milliseconds.]

And just to be clear, I'm not going back to school to study dogma or moral theology. It's a specialization in Bioethics. Instead of signing my life away to complete a PhD in Ethics (as I roughly planned), I'm starting with the M.A. This will let me finish the degree I started long ago, study what I love (Bioethics), and obtain more information to earn my keep on the St. Fozzie's Ethics and Hospice Ethics Committees.

Believe it or not, Jack's supportive. After I pitched the idea to him, he sighed, shook his head, and sought three gelcaps from the nearest Advil bottle!

And just for the skeptics out there, Jack is doing everything he can to position himself to return to school this fall. We're trying to keep Indiana residency so he can continue in the IU system.

We're a bunch of learnin' fools! Actually, we're probably just nuts!