I Told Your Child How Babies Are Made

14 years and I finally had someone who wanted to know.

When I am seeing early adolescents for well child visits I frequently start my discussion about sexuality with the question, "Have your parents told you where babies come from?"  Most laugh a little and say they already know and we move on to deeper discussions of the topic.  Every few months a patient will tell me that they haven't learned about it yet.  So I ask if they want to know.  For the first time I had someone who said yes.

I told the adolescent about the fact that babies are made from genetic material from each parent.  (I used basic medical terminology that I won't repeat here because I don't want this page to get flagged as inappropriate content.)  And then I gave a brief description of the basic way the genetic material from the father gets to the genetic material from the mother.  The patient said, "Oh, that makes sense."  The patient then went on to tell me their erroneous thoughts about what the process entailed - the same things I have heard from other kids whose sole knowledge about the process comes from watching PG13 TV shows.

To the parent, I'm sorry if it upset you.  Though I suspect maybe it is a relief that now you don't have to be the one to have "the talk."  Patient education is one of the things I like about being a primary care doctor.

20 Years

Our 20th wedding anniversary was about a month ago.

Brian will brag to everyone he meets about how we have been married for so long.  Even in the hospital after the surgery he introduce me to every team of doctors who came by and tell them that we had been married for 19 years.  They all nodded with a congratulatory grunt.  One morning a resident on one of the teams was making conversation and asked if there was a secret to getting a marriage to last for 19 years. I said, "You make it work."  The attending stopped them all and said, "Do you here that?"  He reinforced that a good marriage doesn't just happen, it is work and you have to make it work.  I hope the resident's learned something that morning.

Here are the beautiful roses Brian got me for our anniversary, surrounded by the bits of our life.  The Cub Scout rain gutter regatta boat, because that is how I spent the evening of our anniversary.  The thermos from the new school lunchbox, the canning jar for the jam I keep intending to make, the McDonald's bag from the dinner I picked up on the way home from the office.  The books and toys of the day.  The actual trappings of family life after 20 years of marriage.

Thank you, Brian, for 20 years.  Kisses.

Seriously, It Takes Time

I am learning patience.  Still.

11 months since Brian's cancer diagnosis.  10 months since his surgery.  6 months since the end of his radiation treatments.  He has come a long way.  He can walk on the treadmill again and drink liquids.  Haven't used the tube feeds for a long time.  Things are much better than they were, and yet things still seem a long way from where they used to be.

Is this the new normal?  A constant question, how much better will things get?  I feel deep down that he will continue to improve and still has lots of improvement potential.  Yet I realize that he may never be back to the same energy level he was before all this started.   So I continue to take life one day at a time.  People ask, "What are your plans for vacation?" and I just shrug and say, "Depends on how Brian is feeling."  I plan but I am emotionally prepared to change at a moments notice.

I guess that is the gift this whole experience has brought to me.  I am not wed to the future, I am more comfortable in the ebb and flow of here and now.