Running in the Attic

I’ve had some pretty big changes in the last week.

I’m divorced. Scandalous, I know. Something that has been in the works for ages finally materialized downtown in the courthouse on Tuesday morning. One minute I was answering inanely simple questions in front of a judge and the next I was waiting for my lawyer to file the paperwork as I was chatting with my friend/witness in front of a bust of Casimir Pulaski.

“Here you go. Here’s your copy. You are divorced.”

I went home to wait for the gas guy, the one who was supposed to come the night before between 8:00 and midnight. He never showed, but I got so worked up on the treadmill at 10:00 p.m. thinking about the prospect of a strange man coming to my house at night I had my mom and dad on stand by to come over after I received his 30 minute heads-up call. I never got it.

Yes, I was on the treadmill at 10:00 p.m. And again last night. I want to say this is healthy adapting, but I have in mind the story I know of a woman who ran on the treadmill in the attic after her husband and kids were in bed. She also jumped rope. She ended up in the hospital for severe anorexia.

Well, I am a far cry from severe anorexia. And my spot upstairs with a view of the trees is a much better than the former in a concrete basement with brick pillars and an empty wooden tool rack. Every time I looked at the tool rack, while I was running, there was a blurry spot. I imagined that it was an apparition, but it never progressed from the foot radius fuzz into something more spectacular. I wondered if I needed to have my eyes checked – it lasted for years. But there is no parallel experience here in my new place on the second floor, so I guess it will remain a mystery.

Experiencing a move and divorce, all in one week, was not planned. That’s a lot of stress. But the kids and I weathered last weekend well, even had fun despite the fact that the movers were around until almost midnight and the house was swarming with moths and mosquitoes. Both kids were up half the night itching, but it was worth it watching Jack dance around the moving truck and help carry stuff in. The movers were so kind – even let him help put his bunk beds together. I tipped them heavily.

It’s my first weekend in my new house alone. I had a fabulous dinner last night with my friend/hair stylist and her 10 year old son Felex. Gifted him a book I just finished – The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins. Gave her some brain candy from a couple of weeks ago – the autobiography of Jenna Jameson - How to Make Love Like a Porn Star. I needed some brain candy (boy was it!) after Michael Chabon’s Amazing Adventures of Cavalier and Klay and Marcel Theroux’s Far North. Both great reads.

In the divorce decree I decided to take my last name back. It’s a pretty unique and awkward one, one that I spent the first half of my life longing to get rid of, but it is strange how I feel drawn back to it desperately like an old familiar coat. I know it’s going to take months, even years maybe, to fully convert based on conversations with friends - and there are all these legal issues with cases - but I enjoyed trying it out on the dictation machine and love seeing it on the vacation and call schedule. I reveled in explaining the pronunciation to lab and office staff all week long. “On the last part – just remember I’m rude.” One of the transcriptionists laughed. “You aren’t rude. You cannot be rude.” I said, “Well, there’s always time to change, right?” She said, "I think I'll just call you Dr. Gizabeth."

New house, new name, new me. I think I need to spend the rest of the weekend alone washing my brain out and cutting off all my old associations and addictions. I need a nice strong disinfectant – preferably one with alcohol. Wine should do nicely. A cab would be perfect.

Breast conference at the University today. It was wonderful seeing old attendings and getting up to snuff on the latest developments in the breast. Papillary lesions. Columnar cell hyperplasia with atypia is now lumped in with flat epithelial atypia and columnar cell hyperplasia without atypia is no longer an entity. Things change so fast. I gained new insight into borderline cases. Nothing I had yesterday was borderline – it was all in-your-face cancer. Clear diagnosis makes a quick, easy day. I am grateful I don’t have to meet the patients.

I’m really excited about starting over. I have felt so much stronger since the separation in February, but I know I've still got a long way to go before I feel normal again. The kids and I are great, but busy. Yes, I’m still happy, Ramona!

Adios from the crazy divorced doctor mom running in the attic.