30 November 2007

Status: Questionable

One of the major benefits of having played sports growing up, and the main reason my daughter(s) are at least going to try it, is that it can give girls a healthy relationship with their bodies, which is pretty tough to come by these days. But it's hard not be proud of something that can perform for you on the field (or court or whatever).

It took me almost ten years to find the downside. I hurt my knee, badly, in the spring of 2001. There was a brief period where I had the idea that maybe it was fine, but no dice. I had surgery, didn't walk for three weeks, didn't run for nine weeks, and didn't feel like myself on an athletic field for more than a year. When you ask a lot of your body, sometimes it doesn't quite keep up. And then you can have a teeny little problem with trusting it in the future.

This year, I hurt my shoulder playing baseball (though not as badly, thank god). I didn't really throw for the last two weeks of the season and I haven't thrown in the last month either. I did manage to put my money where my mouth was and go to the doctor (as a friend says, if it's bad enough, you'll go to the doctor. I guess this a nice way of saying shit or get off the pot), who thinks it's fine, but I'm not convinced. He did all his tests, and I trust him, but there's something not right about it. I feel like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. Some part of me almost wanted him to say that there was somthing wrong with it, because at least then the doubt would be gone.

Or maybe it's just my imagination. Guess we'll wait and see.

19 November 2007

Love Is

There's an article in the New York Times today called Love in the Time of Dementia. Mostly, it talks about the different experiences of love between young couples and old couples. You can read it for yourself, but I will tell you the most touching story I've heard in a log time.

Former justice Sandra Day O'Connor's husband of 55 years is having an affair with another woman. He has Alzheimer's and lives in an assisted living facility and has struck up a romance with another woman who lives nearby. Justice O'Connor, for her part, is delighted and even visits with the new couple.

"Young love is about wanting to be happy," says psychologist Mary Pipher (didn't she write Raising Ophelia?). "Old love is about wanting someone else to be happy."

For my part, I think I have a lot of growing up to do...

11 November 2007

Pseudo-Sports Entry

Troy Williamson is a wide receiver for the Minnesota Vikings. Recently, his grandmother (who raised him) died and he went home for just over a week to gather up his siblings as well as make arrangements and attend the funeral. During this time, he missed three practices as well as the Vikings' win over San Diego. Because of his absence, the Vikings docked him one game check, amounting to over $25,000. There was so much controversy regarding this decision that the Vikings ended up giving the check to Williamson after all, which he then donated to charity.

Now obviously, you feel bad for the guy. His grandmother died and he should absolutely have the opportunity to return home for the funeral and some family time. But I'm not sure about the outrage over the Vikings' actions. Football players are paid to perform 16 days per year. They are not exactly salaried workers with vacation days and flex time. Though he had a very good reason, Troy Williamson willingly missed one of these days and I'm not really sure why it's the Vikings' responsibility to absorb that. Obviously, the 'nice guy' thing to do is give him the check anyway (and I'm glad they did that) but I don't see why they should have to.

01 November 2007

Professional Courtesy

All in all, it's pretty nice to be a doctor's kid. It gives me a sort of guide through the medical process. I have a fairly endless pipeline of pre-approved doctors should I need them for any reason and I always get appointments and drug samples when they're available.

Another good thing about having your father be a physician is that it removes a lot of the physical awkwardness that sometimes crops up between young women and their fathers. I know a lot of girls who pretty much felt like they needed to hide any mention of their periods from their fathers. I wouldn't say it's a hot topic between me and my dad or anything, but there's a very physical aspect to a child's bond with his/her parents and it's nice not to lose touch with that completely as you grow up. I hope that doesn't come off as creepy, it's really meant very innocently, but it's hard to explain.

Anyway though, one complaint about being a doctor's child is that doctors recommended by him seem to have an uncanny ability to a) realize that they know my father and/or b) decide they want to talk about him when I am undressed and not a second before. This is not ideal. There's really nothing quite like having my doctor, whom I met not 20 minutes before, begin a breast exam on me, and then say, "wait, is your dad xxxxx? He moved to Las Vegas, right? How is he? Does he love it?"

Wow. My boobs, my dad, and Las Vegas. Didn't see that coming this morning.