Showing posts with label favorite posts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label favorite posts. Show all posts

Thursday, May 7, 2015

MiM's most viewed posts 2008-2015

Just for fun, thought I would post the 10 MiM posts that have had the most pageviews to date. Mind you, our posts go back for 7 years and number of views is determined by many factors including what shows up on search engines and links from other sites. But, thought it would be fun to take a walk down MiM memory lane.

1. A day in the life of a neurosurgeon - seriously?  by GCS15. This was part of our Day in the Life Topic Week from 2009.

2. When breastmilk isn't best  by Fizzy, 2012. The title alone attracted many views and commenters, including some non-MiM breastfeeding activists who clearly did not read/get the post. Check out the great discussion on "gunk" (on pump parts) in the comments.

3. Guest post: Why it's all worthwhile (or what keeps me going) by GCS15 in 2010. A personal favorite. So inspiring.

4. Why you absolutely need to have a baby during residency by Fizzy, 2012. Another great and provocative title. Again we see Fizzy's signature use of humor to make her points and win over the audience!

5. MiM Mail: (Un)happy match day - It doesn't matter what YOU want, 2015. Our community came together in support of this MiM - we felt her struggle and all wanted to help. Any updates?

6. The opiate endemic and us by Genmedmom, 2013. Thoughtful commentary about a difficult, serious issue in patient care.

7. Why is residency so harmful? (And what can we do about it?) by Genmedmom, 2014. Another thoughtful commentary about medical training and sometimes toxic culture that comes along with it.

8. Maternalism by JC (a cardiologist), 2010. A wonderful post trying to reconcile comfort, evidence-based medicine and the post-paternalistic era of medicine.

9. Guest post: The two kinds of mothers in medicine, by Jess, 2014. Generated great discussion about balance and working mothers' guilt (or lack thereof). We're lucky to have Jess as a regular contributor now.

10.MiM Mail: Anesthesiology or psychiatry? 2014. Apparently, a much-researched question!

Do you have favorites not represented here? Feel free to add in the comments.

Thursday, June 10, 2010

Guest posts, bottling moments, and Facebook

As we wrap up reflections of this past year, I'd be remiss not to mention all the guest posts that have sent in that have become part of the fabric of our blog. I love all of these posts that give voice to this greater community --and encourage you to send yours too whenever inspiration strikes. Each guest post has been wonderful, real, authentic (26 in total just this past year!), but I think my favorite might have been this one, by neurosurgeon GCS15, writing so honestly (and heart-breakingly) about a very difficult day as part of our Topic Week on A Day in the Life. I think all of us reading could instantly understand and wanted to help, to be there to help,to help by the comments we left behind.

I guess my favorite post of my own was writing about a moment in time that I wanted to last forever. Well, I did. And I didn't. Our children grow up way too fast and I find that writing about a moment can serve to bottle that feeling to keep in your pocket and whip out at a later date (like when he's begging for the car keys to go out with friends) *hyperventilate*

Being a mother in medicine (capitalized and uncapitalized) has been so rewarding.

(Non sequitur update: As some of you know, I write humor in my spare time and, incidentally, have an op-ed in today's USA Today on why patients should not friend their doctors on Facebook. Perhaps the topic of a whole other post some other would be a future post on "spare time.")

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

More Fun Than Playing Polo With the Duke

I hope it is not too late to toot my own horn, and say that of my own posts, I most liked the Laws of Mommodynamics. I really love it that this blog has let me pontificate, ruminate, contemplate, exasperate, adumbrate, and simply prate. I look forward to our third year--we rate!

Friday, June 4, 2010

Two years and counting...

Two years? Already? I look at this number in the same way that I look at my age on my driver’s license – where did the time go?

But, unlike the grey hairs and fine lines that I see in the mirror, this blog has been a welcome addition to my life. I love knowing that I’m not along in my experiences. I love the varying viewpoints that we share. I love that I have been able to get to know such an array of women.

I would be remiss not to mention KC’s leadership through this time – this is her brainchild and I am grateful for the opportunity to help nurture and grow her idea into the success it has become (and grateful as well as her intermittent reminders about posting!).

My favorite recent post is actually the topic week* where we answered questions posed by women who are considering jumping aboard this road we’ve been traveling. I think these posts distill the essence of what this blog has endeavored to be since we started – a collective forum of opinions and experiences that we can all learn from, no matter where we are in our lives.

It is the blink of an eye – it is two years.
It is my history – it is our experience.
I am a mom who is a physician – we are Mothers in Medicine.

*Please click here

and here

and here

and here

to get a taste of the week!

Happy birthday to us!

Happy 2nd birthday, Mothers in Medicine! I actually didn't find the twos to be so terrible for my kids. I thought the ones were more difficult, since my boys were much better at being mobile and into trouble than comprehending and obeying at 18 months. You can bribe a two year old.

I think my favorite post of mine at Mothers in Medicine is my advice to a mom starting her pre-med. I like that I was pleasantly surprised how much I like being a mother in medical school, most of the time.

I have a lot of favorite posts by other contributors, but if I had to pick one, it would be the alternative career post by fizzy, and its comment thread. I love playing dream backup career, and everyone else's answers, contributors and commenters, were hilarious.

Reading, commenting, contributing, and just being part of the experience of Mothers in Medicine is such a wonderful and rewarding experience. Thanks, KC! Pass the cake!

Thursday, June 3, 2010

Combining words and at least half intelligible

That's a TWO YEAR OLD for you! MIM is two now, and my favorite posts are all of yours, especially finding out what each of you do on a typical day-in-the-life. I am thoroughly honored to have been surrounded by such talented, funny, thoughtful, thought-provoking women.
A lot has happened since I saw the gaping cavity (a lot of brushing and flossing and visits for fluoride varnish), and it's May/June/July again where I remind myself to slow down. But when I reflect on "my" accomplishments over the past year, these include successfully taking the training wheels off the bike (Daughter, this weekend!), actually playing tennis again (Me, last weekend), renewed job satisfaction (Husband), memorizing the entire Beatles box set (Son), and learning to read and reading for pleasure (all of us). And there are also the accomplishments and needs of my patients and students that keep me going.
And being with MIM turning two, indeed growing and developing exceptionally well. Beginning to show some defiant behavior and increasing independence. Walking so well that we're running. Some make believe play, following simple instructions, and scribbling on our own. And enthusiastic to be in the company of each other. Alas, KC, though an internist in real life, is no doubt MIM's pediatrician and highly skilled at it. Thanks for guiding and serving as a role model for us all. I hope you see us all through adolescence...

Rh+ Year #2

This has been an amazing year for me. I began the year with several posts about my struggle to find peace in my life as an OB/GYN; daily delivering babies for others, all the while my heart aching for another child of my own. Then in November our lives changed in 24 hours, we we got the call from the agency that now was the time (yes we waited 3 years to adopt, then got our son with only 24 hours notice). I'm still adjusting to life with two and have half a dozen half- written blog posts saved on my computer that I promise to finish 'soon' (a relative term with a new baby).

I have really enjoyed following the blog this year. MomT wrote an excellent post on her maternity leave, though I found myself extremely jealous of her lengthy time off. I seriously will not read any post by Tempeh before work, because I almost always cry and have to touch up my makeup; causing me to run late. Fizzy cracks me up. Gizabeth has a wonderful way with words. Of course, my soul sister and fellow OB/GYN, Dr Whoo is the bomb.

Thanks again for letting me apart of this wonderful group of women!

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

MiM's a toddler!

When I was looking through my posts over the last year, I started to get a little concerned that I sacrificed quality for quantity. No post really jumped out at me as being fantastic in any way. I guess the truth of the matter is that I haven't been using this blog to write groundbreaking essays on being a mother in medicine. When something in my life happens that I think would be interesting to the MiM reading public, I write about it. I feel like I've shared a slice of my life on here. So I hope you've enjoyed reading, even if you haven't felt a need to tweet my posts. (Did I use "tweet" correctly there?)

However, since our lovely and fearless leader KC has asked us to select our favorite of our own posts, I have to choose PM&R: The Holy Grail? because I can't resist any opportunity to plug my specialty and what a great choice it is for a mother.

As for my favorite post by a fellow MiM-er, that is much harder to choose. I love every entry posted on here and they all speak to me in some way. But Mommydoctor's post Anesthesia residency by the numbers brought little tears to my eyes, so I have to mention that one. Also, I know it's older than a year, but I really adored ZT's post I want to be a homer, because it spoke to me as both a working mom and a daughter of a working mom.

I've loved blogging here and I thank KC for starting such a wonderful community. Two years ago, I was admittedly a little bitter, but find a group of women who are like me posting their stories has made me feel better about myself. Thank you to all my fellow bloggers and thank you to the readers as well!

The Sleepover

I am being all sentimental, here. This is not a MiM post, but it is a post from my own blog that I sent to KC by e-mail last November, at the suggestion of my blogging friend Ramona. KC invited me to join MiM the next day. Being a part of this community of Mothers In Medicine - both mothers and readers - has meant so much to me, over the last few months. It is the perfect example of "give a little, and receive thousandfold."

Last Thursday afternoon Mike called me at work.

"Sicily's been invited to a sleepover."

I was mortified. "What? Who?"

"Her friend Emmarie. The one that came to the Halloween party." I had thrown a little Halloween party for Sicily - well, not me really. Sicily made the invitations and cajoled me into throwing the party for three of her friends. She picked the fabulous lantern art activity. She made the goody bags. I just chaperoned - cannot take a single bit of credit. One of the girls was a new friend from her school. I met the dad for the first time when he picked her up, and I hadn't yet met the mother.

I frantically asked Mike, "When is the sleepover? Does Sicily know about it?" I was thinking maybe we could just make an excuse to the parents and never tell her about the party.

He replied, "Yes, and she's really excited. It's Emmarie's seventh birthday party. There are four other girls going. It's tomorrow night."

My head went into a tailspin. I wasn't ready for Sicily to spend the night at someone's house, other than a family member. Sure, she had been begging for a long time, but I actively avoided the subject. And I thought her first one would be a friend that we had known for a long time, and we knew the parents, like Helen or Phoebe. Or Annika. People I was comfortable with, and trusted that they weren't murderers or child molesters. But at the same time, she is over six and a half. I had to let this happen at some point. But six and a half is still so young, I thought. I didn't remember doing this sleepover thing until I was at least eight or nine.

While I was taking her to her stroke technique class Thursday night, she was complaining about her day. I love telling people that I need to leave early so I can get Sicily to her stroke class. They look so puzzled, and I wonder what they are thinking. Is it a class where one learns how to gracefully survive a brain infarct? Or a lesson in the proper etiquette of soothing one's cat? Sometimes I jump in and just tell them she is learning swim strokes, and sometimes I make them suffer and ask.

I was tired of listening to Sicily complain. So I started whining. "Listen to my day. I had one of the biggest caseloads I've ever had. And I'm tired from traveling. I was working crazy hard and busy this afternoon, and your Dad called and told me you were invited to a sleepover. I was so upset and worried, and wanted to try to hide it from you. I don't know the parents, and I am not sure I want you to sleep in a house with people I don't know. I'm scared, Sicily."

She was clearly shocked. She doesn't hear me complain, often. "Mommy, why are you acting like a child? I'll be fine, I really want to go. I've been wanting to do this for a long time." I said, "OK, but I'm taking you over there. And I'm warning you. I'm going inside to meet the mom. If something seems off to me, or I don't like the look of the place, I'm leaving, and you're coming with me."

"Mom, what would have to happen for you to not let me stay?"

"Well, if there are children hanging from the kitchen ceiling bleeding, or screaming in the back room - not excited, party screams, but 'I'm being tortured' screams, then you definitely cannot spend the night."

I looked in the rear view mirror to gauge her reaction. She was smiling and rolling her eyes. "Mom, you're crazy."

Friday night I raced home to get her - I had to drive her 45 minutes away to a gated community in a suburb. Mike and I had looked at a house there many years ago, so at least I knew the area. It was nice - large lots, giant houses. Not that this fact calmed me down - evil people transcend socioeconomic status. We had a long drive, so we discussed manners. I quickly glossed over the basics - "If you don't like something they are offering to eat, say no thank you. Use the word please if you need help." We did some role playing, and she gleefully mimicked her most horrible screams at foods she did not like as an example of what not to do. She was having fun. "What else, mom?"

"Well, the goal of spending the night out is to behave well so you will be asked back again, if you like it and are having fun."

"So what would I have to do that they wouldn't ask me back?"

"Well, I wouldn't blow your nose on their cat. They might not like a snotty cat."

"Mom! How do you know they even have a cat!"

"I don't, that's just an example. I also wouldn't poop on any one's head."

She cackled. "What if I pooped on their head, and then had diarrhea on it?"

"Then you definitely wouldn't be asked back. In fact, I might be required to take you to the doctor."

"Oh, mom. Would they give me a shot?"

"No, but he or she might make you talk to him or her. About why you pooped on some one's head. It's really not done, in polite society."

I checked the mirror. It was dark and rainy, and her eyes were glowing. She caught me watching her, and looked away and shrugged. She gave me my favorite response, to the information I dole out to her. She looked away, scrunched up her face, and said nonchalantly, "Hmm."

When we arrived there were lots of girls jumping around animatedly, and the mom was busy with make-your-own-pizza fixings and cupcakes, so I didn't keep her long. I just introduced myself and wrote down phone numbers. I could hardly get Sicily to say goodbye to me - she was having so much fun.

After a family dinner, Mike retired early in preparation for a big hunting weekend and I stayed up. I was watching Escape From Alcatraz, and it was so much fun to see a movie set in the place I had visited Monday night. I think Clint Eastwood was thrown into the same solitary cell that I had spent time in, on D Block. At about 11:15 p.m., my cell phone rang. It was Emmarie's mother. "Sorry to wake you - Sicily just wanted to talk to you." She passed the phone before I could reply.

"Mommy, I miss you! I love you! Can I talk to Daddy and John?"

"No Sicily, they are long in bed sleeping. You should try to go to sleep, it's really late. Do you need me to come get you?"

"No, I just wanted to tell you I missed you."

"I'll be there first thing in the morning, I promise."

"No, mom! Not first thing! I'm always the first to leave. Come a little late so I can play, OK?"

I smiled. "OK sweetie. Try to sleep. I love you. Goodnight."

Whew. We survived. I hung out with the mom the next morning, for a half hour or so, and she seemed nice. She was pleased with Sicily, telling me amusing stories from her observations, and I reciprocated by sharing some stories about her daughter when she was at the Halloween party. She assured me that she was the second to last, not the last kid to go to sleep. Oh the trials of motherhood. I don't know what I'm gonna do when Sicily goes off to college.

I love all the posts I have read since I joined this blog. Every. Single. One. Have to say my favorite fun addition to my own blogs that I follow are Fizzy's cartoons. That girl's got some seriously hilarious cartoon talent (and I notice her artistic skills are developing quite nicely)!

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Happy Birthday, MiM!

I guess I shouldn't be surprised that it has already been another year! Did you know that MiM was born under the sign of "Gemini," with described traditional traits such as being "adaptable, versatile, communicative, witty, intellectual, eloquent, youthful, and lively?" Personally, I could not agree with this description more! Also, based on my long list of friend birthdays this week, this is a great time to be born. Looking over the last year, I see that I've not been the most prolific of bloggers, but I do like the blogs that I have written for the site. I would have to say that my "Tips for Surviving Call During Pregnancy" post was the favorite of my contributions for the year. I also have to mention The Mommy Doctor's post "Why do you have to go to work, Mommy?" because it really touched a chord with me, and I love the discussion generated by the post itself.

I love writing for this blog because I feel as though I am in a great company of not only great writers, but wonderful physicians, mothers, and friends. It is an amazing experience to sit and put my thoughts and experiences as a physician mother to words and to sometimes help another woman who may be struggling with the same thoughts and/or dilemmas. So, thank you, KC for inviting me to write for the blog (two years ago!) and thanks to all of you, dear readers, for making this site such a vibrant and supportive community.

Monday, May 31, 2010

Thank you and happy birthday for your site

I found your site recently, and not only has it already been a godsend for the present, but it shows me a bright future where I can be the OB I want to be WITH a family. So many people downplay any mom doing anything but peds or family medicine or general IM that will have any kind of life for their family, and through the stories and posts I've read on your website - I'm encouraged and inspired to keep pursuing what I know I am meant to be.

I absolutely also love how you can view all the blogs you have linked - I absolutely love laughing with my MS2 friend -  who I am trying to leave alone as she studies for the boards-  over Fizzy's cartoons. I also love the OB blogs and posts listed. I love hearing more about career field I am interested in, and I especially like hearing the positives and negatives of managing it with a family. I am expecting my first child right now - due to give birth in Pulm next year (YAY - not), but I'm thrilled to have two weeks over Christmas off with my very newborn after getting through that horrid Pulm test on no sleep with a days old baby. No one in my world understands what this is like, but I feel like I can read the stories on this website and know that you guys have been here and made it out to the other side of things. Thank you for helping me know that those of us who have kids can still be what we want in medicine. And not fail out! !!!

I'd say my favorite posts are the ones by the OB's on the site - I love the things I say every day at home and at work ones. And I really do love Fizzy's cartoon blog. The latest USMLE cartoon is especially cracking me and my friend up right now as I'm trying to keep her positive as she gets closer to her test. 

You may share my response, but please hide my identity. I have a unique last name that is easily googleable. :)  In fact, it is so scary how traceable I am - that I'm lucky I didn't do anything in my before-medicine days very scandalous, as I don't think I'd ever get a resident position. LOL.

MD school somewhere in the south

Tuesday, July 8, 2008

Guest Post: A comment from a daughter

This was left in our comments section. We think it is worth sharing.

Being the 18-year-old daughter of an OB-GYN about to leave for college...I want to tell you all something, and I hope that it will mean something to you. Whether you forget it, remember it, hate it so much that you yell at me in comments afterward, or love it so much that you post it on your refrigerator, I think it just needs to be said. I am terribly sorry for intruding on this site, and I do not remember even exactly how I found it. Still, I am glad that I did for the sake of this message. I only wish I could post it on the main page, however intrusive that may be, and that you all might understand the message even if I don't articulate very well (and I know I often do not when I try to sort through my thoughts). The OB-GYN in my family is my dad...but I think that it has less to do with which parent is the doctor in the family and more to do with how much we, the children, can't help but love our parents.

My dad was the head of the department at a hospital down here for 7 years. He worked even more then than now. He had wanted kids for years but waited because my mom wanted to work on her career a little more and settle (she was a bit wild and decided to quit her job [special ed teacher] after my older brother [1st baby] was born.)

Growing up, I don't remember much time with him. ...but I remember that we'd lovingly pack up a little of everything we had for dinner and put it on a plate, cover it in plastic wrap, and only then would we serve ourselves the food, so that he could "share" dinner with us, even though some nights he wouldn't be home until long after we were sleeping.

I remember him forgoing eating that dinner we saved some nights--no matter how hungry he was after being held late, or even if he only got there by rushing home for a short stop while he was on-call--so that he could give us three our night-time baths and tuck us in (we all fit in one bed back then, WITH him to tell us a story of growing up so far away in NYC up north, of all places!)

I remember that waiting eagerly for the time when his one day off a week after his on-call night would be "my" day, and I could spend time with him one-on-one. (We took turns, though I admit I was impatient for mine.)

I remember throwing tantrums and getting upset, with him yelling and me yelling...and looking back on it, I realize that I was just a little kid being a little kid, and he was just my exasperated father trying to get me to behave after a 36-hour day of being on-call and scared for my brother with one of his famous, crazy, one-oh-six-degree-Fahrenheit-breaking-point fevers keeping him worried while some poor mother cursed at him while birthing her baby and apologized afterward, crying and laughing, saying she didn't mean it while hugging a wriggling red baby with silly hair.

I remember eating a snack at 5PM and taking my shower early when I was just a little bit older to hold myself over while we waited for him to get home at 8PM before eating dinner and rushing off to bed.

I remember my dad taking time off work to come meet up with us for a week of vacation up north to visit some family. Then he’d have to fly back for work, spawning memories of the miserable, lonely phone calls we and my mother had with him while we were driving back, visiting more family all the way down the coast back to home.

I remember my dad getting in his scrubs to take us to the doctor and explaining everything he discussed with said doctor to us in words we could understand--whether it was the optometrist, the pediatrician, or the radiologist, respectively.

I remember crying because I thought my dad couldn't make it to my award ceremony, spelling bee, or school play; I also remember various feelings of relief, satisfaction, and sometimes more crying when my mom would video tape it and I'd watch it with him later, or when I'd see him rush in--still in scrubs--from the back in the middle of the competition, or when my teachers snuck him in backstage even though I had already calmed down because they knew I'd be so relieved and happy that he had made it after all.

I see now that my dad is overworked, overstressed, doesn't exercise well enough (not that he has much time to hit the gym, with my grandmother with Alzheimer's living with us and also requiring tons of care), and that he has always, always been there for me, loved me with all his heart (and these things count for big-brother and little-sister, too!), and has always wished he could have even more time with all of us (and still does, especially with my brother away at college).

My dad works a hard and difficult job with terrible hours because he feels it's his calling. Even when it's very difficult, there's a certain joy in it for him, in the miracle, as I'm sure you all understand. His partners are also loving parents with the same kinds of challenges of having families and careers--and all but two of the six others are women, a mother/doctor group may be interested to hear. However, I also realize that my dad works so hard also because...he loves us. Not only is he giving other people the chance to have the wonders he has, but the hard work he does makes sure that my mother can care for us and her slowly dying mother with Alzheimer's, despite those difficulties (our other grandma also lives with us, but is perfectly sound of mind, if not of eyesight). He keeps food on our table so, though things with insurance companies have made things more difficult over the years, we have never worried about food as many Americans now do--including ones nearby, ones in my school, or friends that I visit. We have never wanted for clothes to wear, a place to live, or even "extras" like a second car to drive--meaning we never had to walk the just-over-a-mile road to our school, but that we could go by car (since we're too close for bus). We have the luxury of a really cool PS2 that was an incredible gift for the three of us years ago and still serves us remarkably well for its generous age--not to mention an assortment of games we've "collected" through the years; I might add that those came mostly from birthday and holiday gifts from "Mom and Dad" that I'm sure my parents bought with the money my Dad works hard to earn.

I've lived a very privileged life full of experience and love, and I feel blessed to have had both of my parents. They are strong people who have raised me remarkably well, so I feel I have the great advantages of knowing right from wrong, the importance of learning and respect for others, and the much-forgotten value of courtesy and good manners. (And that those last two count even when things are bad or you're in a bad mood. We're all only human, but so's everyone else. Then again, I’m sure he sometimes wishes his patients taught their children that way, or lived it themselves, too...)

On behalf of children everywhere with doctor parents who worry, fret, and guilt themselves over the time they have to spend apart from their children...I want you to know that we love you, and even if it's hard when we're little to understand what you do, or why you're gone so long sometimes (though we tend to vaguely grasp even then the idea that "work" is very hard and busy and keeps you away even though you love us very much and wish all the time that you were here with us), we're proud of you and love you very much. We do our best to understand and accept these struggles with you, and we see better while looking back from older ages all of the sacrifices and difficulties you've endured for us, and just how much you've always loved us--and at all ages young to old, we love to hear you say it on nights when you're around to tuck us into bed.