Yesterday I took my dog to the vet, a chain-run operation called Banfield that is associated with PetSmart. My dog has a mild eye infection - lots of green eye buggers that started in the right eye and spread to the left. Pretty typical problem, so I expected a quick and cheap remedy. But no.
The vet examined my dog and gave me some spiel about how they should run a fancy test to verify she didn't have an abrasion or ulcer on her cornea. I knew that was bogus, but how could I argue with a professional?
I reiterated that the problem spread from one eye to the other, hoping that would narrow the diagnosis clearly down to an infection (scratches don't spread), and also told him that my dog had not been scratching her face in any way, excluding the possibility that she had scratched her eye inadvertently. The vet stood up and said let he would draw up a treatment plan.
A "treatment plan" ?! That sounded a little too severe for what is really a simple, common doggie issue. I mean we're not talking about cancer here.
So the treatment plan included the fancy eye test. Oh, and since the test involves placing this fluorescent substance in the eye that causes discomfort, anesthesia is also recommended. Together it was going to run me about $50. Of course I was free to do what I wished, he said, but the test was a standard recommendation for a situation like this. And if I didn't want to do the test? Talk about a guilt trip, jeeze.
I decided to go with just an antibiotic eye ointment sans eye test. If no improvement after 2 days, I figured, no harm done, I will just go back to have the test done.
I left pissed. Not because the vet was stupid or inconsiderate - he wasn't - but because I expected him to use his experience and intuition to suggest the most common sense remedy. He must have known there was 95% chance it was a simple bacterial infection, so why didn't he just say so? And why all the scare tactics like saying "treatment plan" instead of "medicine" and recommending unnecessary tests?
Health care (for people and their dogs) has become uncomfortably intertwined with business. When price gouging becomes transparent customers will get upset and weary. An upset patient will just seek another service, but a weary one? Now that is troubling, for a weary patient tired of expensive visits may not consider going to see the doctor next time for simple, routine problem, even when they should.
25 January 2005
21 January 2005
Bush's hard sell
Bush used the word freedom or liberty more than 40 times in his 30-minute inaugural address yesterday. Smell like a hard sell? It reminds me of the recent spate of "superdrug" commercials directed straight at consumers (rather than just doctors). If Vioxx is so great, then why the need to spend so much money advertising it? Likewise, an incumbent's character and track record should be sufficient in gaining understanding, if not support, for his ideas. Sadly, many people will see the overuse of these words as a sign of strength and commitment, rather than as an indicator of failing policies.
18 January 2005
weight-loss surgery
A local surgeon specializing in a type of weight-loss surgery is lobbying to get insurers to pay for the $25K operation. And why not? Isn't this a clear-cut case of medicine being employed for honorable means? The surgeon says,
There should be some concern, however, that weight-loss surgeries may be causing additional problems while fixing others. Self-starvation, even with nutritional supplements, must certainly carry its own risks, which are likely to be long-term and show up possibly years after the operation. We may not know what those are now, especially since these kinds of procedures are relatively new.
I want to think that this is outweighed by the benefits gained from losing weight, which we know to be the source or many other systemic health problems such as hypertension and diabetes. Yet it is a reminder that even therapeutic biotechnology can be ethically problematic.
People literally thank you for giving them their lives back, and you can see how their lives are changedThese kind of surgeries are controversial in the medical community and they are extreme. They involve surgically removing most of the stomach or bypassing the stomach so that the patient feels full after eating a mere fraction of what they normally eat. In fact, they will feel full after eating a mere fraction of a normal diet as well. It is a form of self-starvation. Perhaps such extreme health problems elicit extreme measures.
There should be some concern, however, that weight-loss surgeries may be causing additional problems while fixing others. Self-starvation, even with nutritional supplements, must certainly carry its own risks, which are likely to be long-term and show up possibly years after the operation. We may not know what those are now, especially since these kinds of procedures are relatively new.
I want to think that this is outweighed by the benefits gained from losing weight, which we know to be the source or many other systemic health problems such as hypertension and diabetes. Yet it is a reminder that even therapeutic biotechnology can be ethically problematic.
11 January 2005
I'm a "flexitarian"!
And good to know I have a name for my dietary identity, although for I still prefer my own "lapsing vegetarian" - more of a description than a label.
A so-called flexitarian (who thinks of these things, and why?) is a vegetarian who occasionally eats fish or chicken (but not beef or pork - I'm baffled why there has always been a hierarchy of dietarily correct animal proteins). Here's a good story that describes the popularization of vegetarianism and rise of "flexitarianism," and suggests that diet, like everything in American culture vacillates between extremes (low-temp vegan vs. Atkins), eventually settling on a sound middle. And that looks a whole lot like what the FDA and our doctors have been telling us for years.
A so-called flexitarian (who thinks of these things, and why?) is a vegetarian who occasionally eats fish or chicken (but not beef or pork - I'm baffled why there has always been a hierarchy of dietarily correct animal proteins). Here's a good story that describes the popularization of vegetarianism and rise of "flexitarianism," and suggests that diet, like everything in American culture vacillates between extremes (low-temp vegan vs. Atkins), eventually settling on a sound middle. And that looks a whole lot like what the FDA and our doctors have been telling us for years.
10 January 2005
Souls are accidental (but gorgeous all the same)
Sometime in my formative years I gave up on the idea that some part of us, soul, or consciousness, exists after death. My reasons for doing so had nothing to do with my religious skeptism; they had to do with the desire to believe that the universe was really as large, complex, and indifferent to us as modern science tell us it is. I just found this wonderfully pithy expression of the idea by Ian McEwan:
However, [the idea of life after death] divides the world crucially, and much damage has been done to thought as well as to persons, by those who are certain that there is a life, a better, more important life, elsewhere. That this span is brief, that consciousness is an accidental gift of blind processes, makes our existence all the more precious and our responsibilities for it all the more profound.And at some point when I am smarter I will explain not only why this is true, but why it is important to believe so.
Tsunami - now and then
I read about a woman in Sri Lanka who was attempting to get some pension benefits from the government on behalf of her deceased husband. The official told her to wait and go home. And then she laughed, "but I have no home!"
Indeed these satellite pictures (especially the first pair) not only depict graphically what this woman said, but tell us that for many people this is not simply a matter of rebuilding the house. In many cases the land itself has disappeared, and with it possibly those people's livelihood.
Indeed these satellite pictures (especially the first pair) not only depict graphically what this woman said, but tell us that for many people this is not simply a matter of rebuilding the house. In many cases the land itself has disappeared, and with it possibly those people's livelihood.
09 January 2005
Reflections on 2004 & Happy New Year
On the whole this was a good year, buoyed by the optimism of going to medical school next year. It was a year in which I had a razor-sharp focus in my life like I have never had. There was not a day when I did not think about my future and how I would get there. But it was also full of hours of thankless work in the restaurants, the stress of the MCAT which I took in August, and endless hours of basic science preparation.
I started the academic year (actually in 2003) at PSU brimming with excitement and confidence. I couldn't think of anything better at the time than to study physics, chemistry and biology, and I recall many times coming home late at night from work that I was really blessed to be able to have the opportunity to pursue such a dream at my point in life (34!), especially when untold numbers of people, young and old, around the world have neither the social nor economic possibility of even taking a university course. I did rather well in all my classes, primarily out of diligence and enthusiasm I like to think, than out of any special aptitude. I made friendships with my physics and organic chemistry instructors, and connected with each of them in non academic ways, diving and music. On the second week of class I visited my organic chemistry professor and introduced myself. In my typical self-effacing manner, I explained that I used to be on track to teach music but now things had changed. I wanted to be a doctor, and so on, and how weird and random was that!? He pretended to be affronted (he wasn't really) by the suggestion that science and music have nothing in common and then produced a copy of an article he had written about a chemist turned composer. The arts are spectacular, and scientists know that too. Who would ever think?
Until June Naomi and I lived in school housing. I insisted it was an apartment, although it felt by virtue of the cinder block walls and short-nap utility carpeting like a dormitory. It was humiliating to be living next to 19 year-old nitwits, and enduring their stupid antics and disrespect was painful. But moving in was cheap and easy without a recent rental history, and besides we had no time to entertain the guests we didn't know yet anyway.
In the fall and winter Naomi had a couple of break downs that ended in tears of self-loathing. She was taking classes at PCC that required writing essays, but she had never learned how to do this in the Japanese school system, at least not in the way that is expected of an educated westerner. Eventually she learned the difference between a thesis and an opinion, and how to write a supporting paragraph. Learning this is hard and frustrating, especially in another language because there is never a "right" way of expression. There are always better sentences, better words. I corrected her drafts and returned them littered with marks in red ink. Although she never though it could, her writing has really improved over the year to the point where this fall she got an A in a women studies class without me ever reading a single draft!
Aside from academics we led pretty dull lives. Weekends punctuated our humdrum study lives with elaborate home-cooked dinners, shopping sprees to Costco, trips to the cinema, or an occasional visit to my mom in Eugene. We did no local diving the entire year since Naomi does not have the money to buy a better dry suit, and we did not have a car either large or reliable enough to haul us and our gear to Hood Canal. And frankly, I don't really like the cold water either. I completed all my paperwork (essays, maps, tests) in January for my divemaster, but my instructor, Dave, was unbelievably negligent in processing anything. It is still a work in progress.
In March my grandmother passed away. We flew to Orange County for the weekend for the funeral and burial in Westminster. Naomi met Jim, Carol, and Emily, and we both met my aunt June and Paul from Pennsylvania, plus a host of other very distant older relatives. I showed Naomi UCLA, Santa Monica beach, and we cruised around OC in Carol's new Lexus sports car. My grandmother and my mom are now resting in peace, although in different ways. Grandma's last years were demented but thankfully not painful. If anyone suffered, it was mom who had grown so accustomed to caring for her each day that when Alice had gone my mom didn't quite know what to do with her new freedom. Mom had become so dependent on grandma's mental illness that she had even lost a sense of what "sick" really meant. In the end a social worker examined grandma at mom's request and concluded that she was way past the point where she should be living outside a managed care facility. Pita, grandma's dog, is now living with mom, and is a heart-warming reminder of grandma's spirit and the will to live (the dog is so old and decrepit, but keeps going).
Also in March was a small wedding of Tomo and Masami, friends of mine from Tokyo. They had a service at an enchanting glass chapel in Palos Verdes attended by the two of us, Masami's sister, and a handful of Tomo's old Japanese ex-pat buddies that still live in LA. We gave them a gorgeous Pendleton Wool blanket, red and black, with a prominent NW Indian icon (Naomi gave me the same for Christmas since I was so enamored with it). We stayed with some friends of mine, Jonathan and Stacy, who I had not seen since I left Japan. It was great to catch up with them since their wedding and talk about their baby, Dylan who was born in July. Jonathan and I were in the same program at UCLA. He, however, stuck with ethnomusicology, and now has a coveted position at UC, Riverside.
In June I flew to NY to visit with Minh and Kelly. The weather was intolerable, but the food was delightful. Minh is a gourmand with a lot of time to read about the busy dining scene in NY. But the highlight was a rib-eye he prepared with which we enjoyed a bottle of Leonetti merlot, 1992 I think. The best moments were just being with the two of them. There is something to say about personal experience, the world's best pizza at Coney Island, the gravity of ground zero, the colorful Cuban food in Soho, unbeatable dumplings in Chinatown, the cool, soothing breeze of the ocean by Wall Street, the classy French chocolatier near the Rockefeller center, the searing hot Thai food in Queens, etc., but the thing (and not just food!) itself always seems to pale in comparison to the way other people experience it. Talking about food with people who love it is just as good as eating it. What do I mean? The House of Sand and Fog, which we watched on DVD after the rib eye, is a mediocre and tedious film but it was made more than tolerable by Minh and Kellys' amusing peanut gallery commentary.
From NY I went to Ty and Amys' wedding in Marshfield, Massachusetts. Mom, and grandpa also came, as well as all the Lemerande sons, and aunt June and uncle Paul. Amy's family, the McLaughlins are immeasurably generous and funny, and they are dyed in the wool New England Catholic Democrats. The whole family sings a marvelous set of entertainers and tried to get the rest of us to sing Irish folk songs as well. They entertained us for several days at their home that is perched just above a small river feeding into an estuary. The weather and scenery were dreamy and the McLaughlin's large front yard with family and neighbors of all ages milling about with beer and bbq, playing wiffleball, drying off after a swim, or riding the oak tree swing were out of an imaginary Norman Rockwell painting called "An American Summer."
The Lemerande family and I made trips to Martha's Vineyard and Portsmouth. Toby and I talked about physics, politics, and Japan, Saskia and I talked about how funny Toby and Alan were when they were arguing about God and about how funny the Japanese were in general, and I talked with Alan about medicine. Although a man of Christ, he found my berating of organized religious amusing and provocative. Although this was the first time I had met Al and Ty, the family bonds quickly brought us together. Ty is a very easy-going, personable guy with whom anyone could talk. Al, however, is a complex, independent thinker who is not shy about expressing his views. One side of him is gentle and graceful, but the other could start some nutty cult. The views he holds are sometimes unusual, even offensive, and being a man of conviction and faith he holds them incorrigibly. Toby is keen and curious like his brother Al, but he is a religious skeptic and has chosen (for the time being) to place his faith not in God but science, exclusively. Their dad was not there, but ironically he occupied perhaps most of the conversation time among the Lemerandes. Not having met Alan Sr. I had nothing to say or think, but I could not resist noticing the impact, good and bad, he had on the rest of the family. I returned from Massachusetts in an unusually positive mood. Rarely are vacations and family gatherings so exciting and fulfilling.
With the summer came a small change in the pace of our daily routine. I signed up for an MCAT prep course that occupied me most of the week until the exam day. Naomi took an accelerated calculus course that she hated, but passed with a B. The later half of the summer she had off, which was good since we acquired a family member, Sango, from the Bonnie Hayes Animal Shelter. Although Sango is black and has the marking of a Rottweiler or Doberman of half the size, the word means coral is Japanese. She came to us as a meek, unconfident, and very sick puppy of probably 6 months. We have no history for her, so we decided to call her adoption date, July 15, her first birthday. We nursed her back to health and she quickly took to her new name and home. Even now she is still puppy-like in her energy and play style, but is growing into an athletic, nicely muscled and wonderfully tempered adult.
The MCAT was at once fearsome and exciting. I felt great on exam day, thanks to lots of sleep, brain food, and at least a modicum of confidence from the prep class. The real challenge of the exam is to think critically for a long period of time under pressure in a quick, efficient manner. As it turned out I received a good score, but so far this has not translated into any interviews. The med school application process took the large part of the end of the summer into October. The essays are far and away the most difficult aspect of the application for me. The schools expect essays that are original, moving, and personal. I have, however, a hard time writing in that style, although I am very good at the more prosaic and dry academic form more suitable for getting grants.
At the end of September I left my job. Naomi's mother came to visit for a short week. Naomi's mother is an independent, active, and strong-willed woman, certainly untypical for a Japanese housewife her age. Every summer she travels outside Japan with a group of women friends, last year it was Spain. This was the first time she had been to the US, and a whirl-wind tour of Oregon it was. The first night off the plane we spent at Lost Lake beneath Mt. Hood. It was there, under the stars by campfire that I proposed to Naomi. Her mom was overjoyed but insisted that we each write a letter to dad explaining our desire to marry. I refused to give Naomi a diamond ring, partly because I didn't want to spend the money I didn't have and mostly because she would not have wanted to wear one. And I was right; the ring I gave her from an Indian atelier in New Mexico, with embedded opal, turquoise and some other uncommon purple stone whose name I can't recall, was the perfect expression of our artistic tastes and unorthodox marriage. The next evening we spent in Portland, ate an early lunch with dad, Marsha and Sandy, then went to a classical Indian dance performance at the Schnitzer. The following day we toured the coast where we saw a herd of Roosevelt Elk, a large pod of grey whales, sea lions, and lunched on some local clam chowder on the beach. Boy that was an exciting day, for sure. Before returning we stayed a few nights in Eugene with mom. Some of her friends came over for lots of fun and Coors Light. All the girls got silly and made Naomi wear a goofy veil.
After Naomi's mom left we took a diving vacation to Roatan which was way too short. All told, I think we did nearly 20 dives in a week. The weather was okay, the ocean was calm, but the visibility left much to be desired, perhaps due to the four hurricanes that had swept through the Caribbean. We stayed at Fantasy Island Resort, which provided pretty good food (some was rather delicious) and decent, but not impressive, dive service despite the fact that the dive center is home to the island's hyperbaric chamber. The best part of the trip was meeting new friends, such as the charming Colin and Penny, retired Brits that run a charter in the British Virgin Islands, or the clever and sardonic Carlos, an oil engineer and amateur underwater filmmaker.
We visited San Jose for another family reunion in October in celebration of Ty and Amys' wedding. Carol and Em came up, mom and grandpa flew down from Eugene, and Amy's parents flew from Boston, despite being the middle of the World Series. Maggie impressed us with the choir she sings in and Ty and Amy performed a bit of from their two-person Romeo and Juliet. It was a short trip, but the hugs and chats were nice, and Naomi and I picked out two beautiful dresses to choose from for our wedding the following Monday.
Judge Marcus married us on October 25th at the Multnomah County Courthouse in downtown Portland. For me this was not supposed to be a big deal, simply a formality. Originally I had not intended to invite my mom, but as it turned out she really wanted to come up for the short service after all (I mean, duh) and didn't mind at all seeing my dad, Marsha and Sandy. In fact, everybody was so relaxed that mom decided to join us for lunch afterwards too. We ate family style Chinese food in the Pearl and mom had a great time talking to Marsha. In retrospect it was good that they meet now than at the wedding ceremony anyway.
The night before Thanksgiving Naomi and Kaoru, our housemate, surprised me by buying a small turkey. I made my first Thanksgiving dinner this year, which turned out rather well except for the stuffing always the challenging part. We spent it the three of us since all my family was out of the state. Ironic, I thought, since for so many years I had missed Thanksgiving because I was not living in Oregon. That weekend I went to Canon Beach to visit with the Lorishes. Andrew was back from the Art Institute of Chicago where he is privileged to go, but in all reality too good for. Sadly, he probably knows this and may return home. Within an hour of arriving Kathryn, Andrew and I were playing a bit from the jazz and fiddle books. Elizabeth was happy to have her family around, but she is still struggling with her health. We had a lengthy and not very clarifying discussion about my mom and various crenellations of our family history. We played cards, drank scotch, listened to David Sardaris on iPod, and laughed and laughed. Jody and Odin, cousins of Andrew and Kathryn were there who just moved to Portland.
I continue to volunteer at the OHSU emergency room. I sit in the fishbowl and screen in patients that qualify for one of a number of clinical studies. If they qualify, I consent them for the study, do and interview and collect some data from their medical record. This has been a very fun and stimulating experience since I get to see how the ER really works first hand. I have seen a lot of interesting procedures and patients and have had the priveledge to talk with doctors about patients. The best part is interviewing patients, although this can be frustrating and difficult depending on their disposition. Most patients don't know, or care to know, the difference between us and the rest of the ER staff so they are usually very open about themselves during the interviews. The second best part is observing how doctors think and work out medical problems. And the third best part is watching how the staff handles dying people in the trauma bays. The fourth best part is attending the weekly conferences where the doctors and residents discuss the previous week's interesting cases and the mistakes they made.
Christmas and New Years were mellow, but super fun and intimate. Both were spent in Eugene with mom and both involved prime rib (roast, bbq, respectfully) and red wine. Naomi is especially fond of my mom because more than other people she has met in the US my mom talks to her like a normal adult rather than as a foreigner. On New Year's Naomi and I drove to Eugene to surprise mom, and thankfully she didn't have any plans. We played scrabble, watched a good movie and drank champagne. In Japan New Year's Eve is not the big party like it is here, but is more like our Thanksgiving or Christmas; quiet with the family, and I prefer it that way to be honest.
Naomi has been a loving, supportive, and generous partner, although it is frustrating for her economically and socially to be here; she misses her friends, family and disposable income back in Japan. Nevertheless, she is incredibly dedicated to finishing her degree in biology and making a career in the US. As for me, it is great privilege that she can pursue her dream here. Making a happy, prosperous life in the US is a big challenge. I think that with perseverance and passion she can do just about anything she wants to here, but she struggles with a lack of self-esteem and confidence that besets many Japanese women.
We are in the process of applying for a green card, which will give her more or less the same employment rights as a US citizen. She is working at the PCC library, which in addition to her calculus, physics and chemistry, makes for a pretty busy schedule. She will complete her second year at PCC this year and will be able to transfer into OSU or PSU if we remain in Oregon.
So, the wedding will be on June 25 in Eugene. It will be fun and casual. Details to come, and shortly we hope.
I am not sure if New Year's resolutions have any meaning or if they should be shared, but for the sake of closing this letter I will assume yes.
Naomi's resolution is to improve her conversation skills so that she can keep up with and participate in a conversation between Americans, including all those references to pop culture, politics, people, history, and subtle twists of humor. Her other resolution is to get involved as a volunteer somewhere, such as with MerciCorps.
My resolution is to read more. Reading is to the mind what exercise is to the body. I don't do enough. Do any of us? My other resolution is to prioritize all those small, quotidian tasks better. I have a tendency to let things stack up and get out of control, to the point where I don't get half as much finished as I should. And then I'm stressed and upset.
Cheers, and best of health in the New Year.
I started the academic year (actually in 2003) at PSU brimming with excitement and confidence. I couldn't think of anything better at the time than to study physics, chemistry and biology, and I recall many times coming home late at night from work that I was really blessed to be able to have the opportunity to pursue such a dream at my point in life (34!), especially when untold numbers of people, young and old, around the world have neither the social nor economic possibility of even taking a university course. I did rather well in all my classes, primarily out of diligence and enthusiasm I like to think, than out of any special aptitude. I made friendships with my physics and organic chemistry instructors, and connected with each of them in non academic ways, diving and music. On the second week of class I visited my organic chemistry professor and introduced myself. In my typical self-effacing manner, I explained that I used to be on track to teach music but now things had changed. I wanted to be a doctor, and so on, and how weird and random was that!? He pretended to be affronted (he wasn't really) by the suggestion that science and music have nothing in common and then produced a copy of an article he had written about a chemist turned composer. The arts are spectacular, and scientists know that too. Who would ever think?
Until June Naomi and I lived in school housing. I insisted it was an apartment, although it felt by virtue of the cinder block walls and short-nap utility carpeting like a dormitory. It was humiliating to be living next to 19 year-old nitwits, and enduring their stupid antics and disrespect was painful. But moving in was cheap and easy without a recent rental history, and besides we had no time to entertain the guests we didn't know yet anyway.
In the fall and winter Naomi had a couple of break downs that ended in tears of self-loathing. She was taking classes at PCC that required writing essays, but she had never learned how to do this in the Japanese school system, at least not in the way that is expected of an educated westerner. Eventually she learned the difference between a thesis and an opinion, and how to write a supporting paragraph. Learning this is hard and frustrating, especially in another language because there is never a "right" way of expression. There are always better sentences, better words. I corrected her drafts and returned them littered with marks in red ink. Although she never though it could, her writing has really improved over the year to the point where this fall she got an A in a women studies class without me ever reading a single draft!
Aside from academics we led pretty dull lives. Weekends punctuated our humdrum study lives with elaborate home-cooked dinners, shopping sprees to Costco, trips to the cinema, or an occasional visit to my mom in Eugene. We did no local diving the entire year since Naomi does not have the money to buy a better dry suit, and we did not have a car either large or reliable enough to haul us and our gear to Hood Canal. And frankly, I don't really like the cold water either. I completed all my paperwork (essays, maps, tests) in January for my divemaster, but my instructor, Dave, was unbelievably negligent in processing anything. It is still a work in progress.
In March my grandmother passed away. We flew to Orange County for the weekend for the funeral and burial in Westminster. Naomi met Jim, Carol, and Emily, and we both met my aunt June and Paul from Pennsylvania, plus a host of other very distant older relatives. I showed Naomi UCLA, Santa Monica beach, and we cruised around OC in Carol's new Lexus sports car. My grandmother and my mom are now resting in peace, although in different ways. Grandma's last years were demented but thankfully not painful. If anyone suffered, it was mom who had grown so accustomed to caring for her each day that when Alice had gone my mom didn't quite know what to do with her new freedom. Mom had become so dependent on grandma's mental illness that she had even lost a sense of what "sick" really meant. In the end a social worker examined grandma at mom's request and concluded that she was way past the point where she should be living outside a managed care facility. Pita, grandma's dog, is now living with mom, and is a heart-warming reminder of grandma's spirit and the will to live (the dog is so old and decrepit, but keeps going).
Also in March was a small wedding of Tomo and Masami, friends of mine from Tokyo. They had a service at an enchanting glass chapel in Palos Verdes attended by the two of us, Masami's sister, and a handful of Tomo's old Japanese ex-pat buddies that still live in LA. We gave them a gorgeous Pendleton Wool blanket, red and black, with a prominent NW Indian icon (Naomi gave me the same for Christmas since I was so enamored with it). We stayed with some friends of mine, Jonathan and Stacy, who I had not seen since I left Japan. It was great to catch up with them since their wedding and talk about their baby, Dylan who was born in July. Jonathan and I were in the same program at UCLA. He, however, stuck with ethnomusicology, and now has a coveted position at UC, Riverside.
In June I flew to NY to visit with Minh and Kelly. The weather was intolerable, but the food was delightful. Minh is a gourmand with a lot of time to read about the busy dining scene in NY. But the highlight was a rib-eye he prepared with which we enjoyed a bottle of Leonetti merlot, 1992 I think. The best moments were just being with the two of them. There is something to say about personal experience, the world's best pizza at Coney Island, the gravity of ground zero, the colorful Cuban food in Soho, unbeatable dumplings in Chinatown, the cool, soothing breeze of the ocean by Wall Street, the classy French chocolatier near the Rockefeller center, the searing hot Thai food in Queens, etc., but the thing (and not just food!) itself always seems to pale in comparison to the way other people experience it. Talking about food with people who love it is just as good as eating it. What do I mean? The House of Sand and Fog, which we watched on DVD after the rib eye, is a mediocre and tedious film but it was made more than tolerable by Minh and Kellys' amusing peanut gallery commentary.
From NY I went to Ty and Amys' wedding in Marshfield, Massachusetts. Mom, and grandpa also came, as well as all the Lemerande sons, and aunt June and uncle Paul. Amy's family, the McLaughlins are immeasurably generous and funny, and they are dyed in the wool New England Catholic Democrats. The whole family sings a marvelous set of entertainers and tried to get the rest of us to sing Irish folk songs as well. They entertained us for several days at their home that is perched just above a small river feeding into an estuary. The weather and scenery were dreamy and the McLaughlin's large front yard with family and neighbors of all ages milling about with beer and bbq, playing wiffleball, drying off after a swim, or riding the oak tree swing were out of an imaginary Norman Rockwell painting called "An American Summer."
The Lemerande family and I made trips to Martha's Vineyard and Portsmouth. Toby and I talked about physics, politics, and Japan, Saskia and I talked about how funny Toby and Alan were when they were arguing about God and about how funny the Japanese were in general, and I talked with Alan about medicine. Although a man of Christ, he found my berating of organized religious amusing and provocative. Although this was the first time I had met Al and Ty, the family bonds quickly brought us together. Ty is a very easy-going, personable guy with whom anyone could talk. Al, however, is a complex, independent thinker who is not shy about expressing his views. One side of him is gentle and graceful, but the other could start some nutty cult. The views he holds are sometimes unusual, even offensive, and being a man of conviction and faith he holds them incorrigibly. Toby is keen and curious like his brother Al, but he is a religious skeptic and has chosen (for the time being) to place his faith not in God but science, exclusively. Their dad was not there, but ironically he occupied perhaps most of the conversation time among the Lemerandes. Not having met Alan Sr. I had nothing to say or think, but I could not resist noticing the impact, good and bad, he had on the rest of the family. I returned from Massachusetts in an unusually positive mood. Rarely are vacations and family gatherings so exciting and fulfilling.
With the summer came a small change in the pace of our daily routine. I signed up for an MCAT prep course that occupied me most of the week until the exam day. Naomi took an accelerated calculus course that she hated, but passed with a B. The later half of the summer she had off, which was good since we acquired a family member, Sango, from the Bonnie Hayes Animal Shelter. Although Sango is black and has the marking of a Rottweiler or Doberman of half the size, the word means coral is Japanese. She came to us as a meek, unconfident, and very sick puppy of probably 6 months. We have no history for her, so we decided to call her adoption date, July 15, her first birthday. We nursed her back to health and she quickly took to her new name and home. Even now she is still puppy-like in her energy and play style, but is growing into an athletic, nicely muscled and wonderfully tempered adult.
The MCAT was at once fearsome and exciting. I felt great on exam day, thanks to lots of sleep, brain food, and at least a modicum of confidence from the prep class. The real challenge of the exam is to think critically for a long period of time under pressure in a quick, efficient manner. As it turned out I received a good score, but so far this has not translated into any interviews. The med school application process took the large part of the end of the summer into October. The essays are far and away the most difficult aspect of the application for me. The schools expect essays that are original, moving, and personal. I have, however, a hard time writing in that style, although I am very good at the more prosaic and dry academic form more suitable for getting grants.
At the end of September I left my job. Naomi's mother came to visit for a short week. Naomi's mother is an independent, active, and strong-willed woman, certainly untypical for a Japanese housewife her age. Every summer she travels outside Japan with a group of women friends, last year it was Spain. This was the first time she had been to the US, and a whirl-wind tour of Oregon it was. The first night off the plane we spent at Lost Lake beneath Mt. Hood. It was there, under the stars by campfire that I proposed to Naomi. Her mom was overjoyed but insisted that we each write a letter to dad explaining our desire to marry. I refused to give Naomi a diamond ring, partly because I didn't want to spend the money I didn't have and mostly because she would not have wanted to wear one. And I was right; the ring I gave her from an Indian atelier in New Mexico, with embedded opal, turquoise and some other uncommon purple stone whose name I can't recall, was the perfect expression of our artistic tastes and unorthodox marriage. The next evening we spent in Portland, ate an early lunch with dad, Marsha and Sandy, then went to a classical Indian dance performance at the Schnitzer. The following day we toured the coast where we saw a herd of Roosevelt Elk, a large pod of grey whales, sea lions, and lunched on some local clam chowder on the beach. Boy that was an exciting day, for sure. Before returning we stayed a few nights in Eugene with mom. Some of her friends came over for lots of fun and Coors Light. All the girls got silly and made Naomi wear a goofy veil.
After Naomi's mom left we took a diving vacation to Roatan which was way too short. All told, I think we did nearly 20 dives in a week. The weather was okay, the ocean was calm, but the visibility left much to be desired, perhaps due to the four hurricanes that had swept through the Caribbean. We stayed at Fantasy Island Resort, which provided pretty good food (some was rather delicious) and decent, but not impressive, dive service despite the fact that the dive center is home to the island's hyperbaric chamber. The best part of the trip was meeting new friends, such as the charming Colin and Penny, retired Brits that run a charter in the British Virgin Islands, or the clever and sardonic Carlos, an oil engineer and amateur underwater filmmaker.
We visited San Jose for another family reunion in October in celebration of Ty and Amys' wedding. Carol and Em came up, mom and grandpa flew down from Eugene, and Amy's parents flew from Boston, despite being the middle of the World Series. Maggie impressed us with the choir she sings in and Ty and Amy performed a bit of from their two-person Romeo and Juliet. It was a short trip, but the hugs and chats were nice, and Naomi and I picked out two beautiful dresses to choose from for our wedding the following Monday.
Judge Marcus married us on October 25th at the Multnomah County Courthouse in downtown Portland. For me this was not supposed to be a big deal, simply a formality. Originally I had not intended to invite my mom, but as it turned out she really wanted to come up for the short service after all (I mean, duh) and didn't mind at all seeing my dad, Marsha and Sandy. In fact, everybody was so relaxed that mom decided to join us for lunch afterwards too. We ate family style Chinese food in the Pearl and mom had a great time talking to Marsha. In retrospect it was good that they meet now than at the wedding ceremony anyway.
The night before Thanksgiving Naomi and Kaoru, our housemate, surprised me by buying a small turkey. I made my first Thanksgiving dinner this year, which turned out rather well except for the stuffing always the challenging part. We spent it the three of us since all my family was out of the state. Ironic, I thought, since for so many years I had missed Thanksgiving because I was not living in Oregon. That weekend I went to Canon Beach to visit with the Lorishes. Andrew was back from the Art Institute of Chicago where he is privileged to go, but in all reality too good for. Sadly, he probably knows this and may return home. Within an hour of arriving Kathryn, Andrew and I were playing a bit from the jazz and fiddle books. Elizabeth was happy to have her family around, but she is still struggling with her health. We had a lengthy and not very clarifying discussion about my mom and various crenellations of our family history. We played cards, drank scotch, listened to David Sardaris on iPod, and laughed and laughed. Jody and Odin, cousins of Andrew and Kathryn were there who just moved to Portland.
I continue to volunteer at the OHSU emergency room. I sit in the fishbowl and screen in patients that qualify for one of a number of clinical studies. If they qualify, I consent them for the study, do and interview and collect some data from their medical record. This has been a very fun and stimulating experience since I get to see how the ER really works first hand. I have seen a lot of interesting procedures and patients and have had the priveledge to talk with doctors about patients. The best part is interviewing patients, although this can be frustrating and difficult depending on their disposition. Most patients don't know, or care to know, the difference between us and the rest of the ER staff so they are usually very open about themselves during the interviews. The second best part is observing how doctors think and work out medical problems. And the third best part is watching how the staff handles dying people in the trauma bays. The fourth best part is attending the weekly conferences where the doctors and residents discuss the previous week's interesting cases and the mistakes they made.
Christmas and New Years were mellow, but super fun and intimate. Both were spent in Eugene with mom and both involved prime rib (roast, bbq, respectfully) and red wine. Naomi is especially fond of my mom because more than other people she has met in the US my mom talks to her like a normal adult rather than as a foreigner. On New Year's Naomi and I drove to Eugene to surprise mom, and thankfully she didn't have any plans. We played scrabble, watched a good movie and drank champagne. In Japan New Year's Eve is not the big party like it is here, but is more like our Thanksgiving or Christmas; quiet with the family, and I prefer it that way to be honest.
Naomi has been a loving, supportive, and generous partner, although it is frustrating for her economically and socially to be here; she misses her friends, family and disposable income back in Japan. Nevertheless, she is incredibly dedicated to finishing her degree in biology and making a career in the US. As for me, it is great privilege that she can pursue her dream here. Making a happy, prosperous life in the US is a big challenge. I think that with perseverance and passion she can do just about anything she wants to here, but she struggles with a lack of self-esteem and confidence that besets many Japanese women.
We are in the process of applying for a green card, which will give her more or less the same employment rights as a US citizen. She is working at the PCC library, which in addition to her calculus, physics and chemistry, makes for a pretty busy schedule. She will complete her second year at PCC this year and will be able to transfer into OSU or PSU if we remain in Oregon.
So, the wedding will be on June 25 in Eugene. It will be fun and casual. Details to come, and shortly we hope.
I am not sure if New Year's resolutions have any meaning or if they should be shared, but for the sake of closing this letter I will assume yes.
Naomi's resolution is to improve her conversation skills so that she can keep up with and participate in a conversation between Americans, including all those references to pop culture, politics, people, history, and subtle twists of humor. Her other resolution is to get involved as a volunteer somewhere, such as with MerciCorps.
My resolution is to read more. Reading is to the mind what exercise is to the body. I don't do enough. Do any of us? My other resolution is to prioritize all those small, quotidian tasks better. I have a tendency to let things stack up and get out of control, to the point where I don't get half as much finished as I should. And then I'm stressed and upset.
Cheers, and best of health in the New Year.
02 January 2005
nanishiro
In case you are wondering what the name of the blog means, nanishiro is used in Japanese to emotively express something that may be hard to believe, as in "as a matter fact..." or "believe it or not..."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)