We flew back home today. Back to reality and back to routine and personal space. I love being home-home. It is wonderful to see family and friends and all that good stuff, but eventually you start to want your own space. Especially in my childhood home, which is small, as it is, especially with both Patrick and I there with my parents.
So, despite being sad to leave family and friends, we departed this morning to head back to our home. We had this interesting discussion about how home-home is still our main home and how we intend to get back there as soon as possible, but that being in our own space would be preferable. The thing is that when we are in one place, we miss the other people. I guess we will always end up missing someone. Its just that we have our home life, but our life here is ours now. We have our own space, friends, routine. I like it that way. Eventually when we have kids, it will change again, a bit, but it will still be ours.
We arrived home in the soggy snow (a surprise in and of itself, given we left a only soggy home just hours before) only to discover that our charming landlord (whom I appreciate) was still playing construction worker in our apartment. I’m talking tools and plastic in our kitchen, paint on the walls, a completely rearranged “office” and Patrick’s closet. Nice additions. However, we hardly had a place to put down our suitcases. We decided to go out for groceries and supper and return. When we came back, he had gathered his stuff up, but left behind a thick coat of dust. Cue my asthma. So, I am now camped out at Starbucks writing this and waiting for my wonderful spouse to clean up some of the film/air out the place, so I can breathe again. Nice. Thank goodness for him.
I hate asthma. It’s a foolish disease. It, however, gives me better empathy for any patient with shortness of breath, especially those in whom it can only be managed with palliative sedation or constant dosing of opioids and oxygen. Breathing is something we take for granted. When you have to work hard to breathe to the point your muscles hurt, your head spins and you want to just go to sleep, you become more grateful for when you can breathe. You become more conscientious. I spent a portion of my life with uncontrolled asthma. I would gasp after walking up stairs, playing my sax or talking, but I just started to think it was normal. People today still live like that because for their particular disease, that is control, or maybe they can’t afford the controller medications. Sometimes people point out that I am still sick. That it is chronic. But really, compared to people I take care of in the hospital every day; I am the picture of health. I have controlled asthma. When we get periodic lectures on COPD, I remember to continue with my medications when I feel well. When I feel poorly, I remember it could be worse.
I also hate renovations. More now than before. I just wanted to go home and relax, unpack and go to bed early. Now, I would just like to be home. Again, I am grateful he wants to make the apartment better. But, ugh. We are NEVER building our own home because of all this hassle and the hassles I learned about when building residential hospice. This makes me not really want to renovate ever, however we agreed renovations on our own terms would be better. Right now, we can’t pick the paint colors or timing or even what rooms to do. It just kind of happens. At least when you do it of your own accord, there is some sort of choice.
Tomorrow, I start pathology. Not sure what to think about that. No patients, just specimens. And smelling like formaldehyde. For two weeks. But, I think this will help me be a better and more well-rounded physician… To know what happens behind the scenes.
Sorry for the rant. I again wanted to talk about wedding… One of these days! I am grateful for puffers and health and a house to live in and a spouse to protect me from poor air quality. I am excited to learn new things. I am happy to be home and with Patrick for a full three weeks!