Tuesday, January 30, 2007

dinner for one with a pinch of angst

The time is 6:30, the kids-in bed, the agenda-fight the hunger. The panacea-soba noodle soup. I don't particularly enjoy eating alone. I used to. When I was traveling I loved my meals. I felt like I was in a movie, only playing in my head, but it was film noir and deeply intriguing. Now, it is just lonely and done only to satisfy the need to nourish. Tonight it was a delicious bowl of soba noodle soup in miso broth with cabbage, snap peas, and carrots garnished with spring onion, chili powder and black sesame seeds.

My bowl 'o goodness was interrupted by another hungry diner...and finished cold. But, she provided dessert: the sweetest smiles.

Pain--has an Element of Blank--

It cannot recollect

When it begun--or if there were

A time when it was not--

Thank you once again, Ms. Dickinson. I haven't felt like myself lately. Do you ever think, "is this a passing mood, or do I have a "problem that needs to be treated". I have a doting husband, three beautiful, healthy happy children and a lovely home (though a rental) . I have nothing to complain of...except maybe being in the "red" way too often financially...yet...something's just...off.

Thinking...thinking...thinking...

I'm just going to say it. It is darn hard being the wife of a resident. I do not blame here, I only vent here. Despite every effort on the contrary, I cannot plan. I cannot anticipate a normal routine. No one can really count on me being anywhere. I have difficulty getting errands done. I don't have any money only money guilt (I get twinges of this painful condition even buying diapers). I sometimes think I see the light at the end of the tunnel, but it seems light years away. I don't feel like I have the right to complain. Seth, Lucy, and Hazel could care less about my plight and they are who I hang out with for the majority of my days. I don't have an Angie or a Michelle (there's a shortage of this precious commodity in Phoenix). My spouse is always tired so how can I complain of fatigue? He needs a warm loving home to come back to after what he sees all day and I fall short sometimes. Unless you have been the spouse of a medical resident you do not understand. The other resident's wives I know are in the same predicament and so we are never able to get together to understand eachother. I love my life and wouldn't change a thing...but, it is darn hard being the wife of a resident.

I'm just lucky that MY resident happens to be a Craig. Really, I mean this. He is a diamond in the rough world of needles and scrubs.

17 comments:

Anonymous said...

Can I reach out and give you a big hug? Well, I will be the first one to say amen to everything you just wrote. Sometimes I wish that all of our cyber networking friends were much closer.

The odd thing is when we matched here in San Antonio (#6) on our list. We didn't even think we would go beyond #3. Heavenly Father works in mysterious ways. Hey, at least Craig took the shorter of the routes. Won't you be done the same time as us in 08? If it makes you feel better I am eating some icecream at the computer alone too right now--wanna join me?

Anonymous said...

p.s. I LOVE that picture of the two of you. And Hazel definitely a sweet dessert!

michelle said...

First of all, I am amazed that you created that beautiful soup for yourself. When I'm eating alone, I can't muster the energy to actually cook.

And secondly, though I'm not the wife of a resident, I imagine it is DANG hard! I applaud you and all the other wives out there in similar situations. I think it's great that you put that out there -- no use pretending otherwise, right?

I wish you had a Jill to come rescue you frequently -- everyone needs a friend like that.

Anonymous said...

Jordan,
I know. I really know.

I love you J.

rebecca said...

Just breathe. Some days, the breathing is your good deed of the day. It shows character when the vent does not become blame, and when your seeking of light at the end of a tunnel also includes moments of surrender to your moment, your Hazel smiles. Your life may be more B-movie than noir currently, yet you still manage to spice it up with soba noodle soup when most would have gone for chef-boy-r-dee.

I am thinking of you! You are a warrior!

ingrid said...

I find myself chuckling now when people ask, "So where's your husband?" I am always looking for a good challenge, and this life has certainly fed that craving!

Jordan, I think we will look back at these years and really be proud of ourselves for the amazing strength and courage we as resident's wives possess, but most importantly I truly believe that our children will be proud of us. I have a great deal of respect and admiration for my mother and all she endured during those years long ago when residents did not have an 80 hour work limit. I cherish the fact that she supported my father and I love hearing stories about our family during residency.

I too am sitting here alone at the computer salivating over your delicious dinner. You sure know how to cook! I vote that you post a new recipe for us culinary challenged women every week! What a treat that would be!!!

ShawnaB. said...

Here, here, to everything you said. It IS really hard. And yes, I do think that someday we will look back and smile and even feel a little bit proud of all we did alone, maybe even tell the kids not to complain about their current states because of all we endured during residency, but for right now, some days it's just HARD. Really hard.

Thinking of you! Loving the thought of you eating your fancy soup. You see, Jordan - that's so you - you create beauty everywhere you go. You really are remarkable.

ShawnaB. said...

Here, here, to everything you said. It IS really hard. And yes, I do think that someday we will look back and smile and even feel a little bit proud of all we did alone, maybe even tell the kids not to complain about their current states because of all we endured during residency, but for right now, some days it's just HARD. Really hard.

Thinking of you! Loving the thought of you eating your fancy soup. You see, Jordan - that's so you - you create beauty everywhere you go. You really are remarkable.

Anonymous said...

I just have to smile. I have to agree with everything that these wonderful ladies I look up to so much have said. We will look back on these years and be proud of all that we have accomplished.

The church meetings we attended alone, chaos at the dinner table, and putting the kids to bed by ourselves.

I hope I will when this is all over, and our road as come to an end be able to realize that I am a much stronger women for it.

Hugs from NOLA!

Jordan said...

Sweet sweet support. Thanks for that. Many have and will have a much longer road than we. I am breathing and have, now, a good night's sleep under my belt--on to another day and another bowl of soup.

Jill said...

I have never made myself such a fancy meal. When I do dinner for one it's chips and dip. (Perhaps this is why I am so large and you are so not large.)

I can't imagine getting through the days with 3 tiny kids (cute as they may be), money stress, and sleep deprivation EVEN with a husband with a regular 9 to 5 job, so I really don't know how you do it all with Craig's crazy schedule. You are a wonder and gift to your husband and children (and to all of us). You are wise to blog about your blues and to reach out for comfort and commiseration even if it's only a temporary balm. I wish I could come over to watch the kids, clean, or just talk. Everyone needs a best friend.

Anonymous said...

The full nights of sleep will return. I am always amazed with how much all you resident's wives do.
It makes me feel bad to ever complain.
I wish I could knock on your door and hold a baby or read to a toddler for you!

Jordan said...

Thank you Jill and Elizabeth, I wish so badly you could come over, too!! I would love it.

Anonymous said...

i don't know the challenges that come with having a husband as a resident, but in a strange way am grateful mine didn't get into medical school. i sometimes wonder if his non-acceptance was somewhat divinely orchestrated because this wife couldn't have run that marathon!

i'm so impressed with your dinner. i turn to cereal and cookies on some nights when i'm feeling the blahs and am alone. and i too have asked myself the question, is this a passing mood or something that needs to be treated. so hard to tell when you spend many days alone.

wish we could all rally around you in person and not just "virtually..." it sounds like you will have a good pay off when the day finally comes.

TX Girl said...

Well now I FEEL TERRIBLE. I cannot tell you how moppy I've been all week thinking about Adam flying off to your town next week and leaving us behind. Especially since I was SOOO looking forward to a little time with you. I just have to keep thinking spring.

I feel for you sister. Although I have had a bit of reprieve these last 2 years which has been bliss. Although I know it won't last past June and both Lulu and I will be in for a sad awakening. I just keep thinking.. isn't there an easier way? Just think there are lots of us out there feeling your pain.

Love ya.

Anonymous said...

I can relate too well to off days that make you wonder. I have felt off all week, but I have no excuse. I wish I lived nearby so I could take your kids for a day and let you pamper yourself. Maybe we'd both get pampered in the process. If only I knew a resident's wife here in SLC I could help and hope it made it's way back to you.
Here's to the light at the end of the tunnel and to the amazing women you resident's wives are.

Amy S. said...

I liked to read *reality* sometimes because we all have to face it in between our *happy blogs*. I'm close to Phoenix (Queen Creek) if you ever want to play!