Saturday, July 22, 2017


Broad strokes paint negative images
Close your eyes
Cacophony becomes patterns
Brings darkness into light

Wednesday, July 19, 2017


A crab skitters
Behind a large rock
Ancient knowledge supersedes
And things go backwards
To heal

Wednesday, July 12, 2017

K.Flay - High Enough

This girl has caught my ear twice! Need to listen to an album.

Tuesday, July 11, 2017

Saturday, July 8, 2017

You're Beautiful

I normally don't go to work on Saturdays unless I'm on call, but last week was a doozy so I needed to triage for Monday. And I'm glad I did - my barrage of diagnostics with beaucoup immunostains did not read the textbooks (well, two of them did. Out of like 10). So I ordered more stains, then checked in with the on call pathologist who is off next week - he is giving me an additional 8 cases to work up Monday. So Monday will be Hell.

I was walking into work, unshowered in yoga pants and a t-shirt and sandals, but I had on a fresh face. A white suburban was taking the path to the valet in the ED, a scene familiar to my route. I heard a man say, "Ma'am, I was rounding the corner and had to do a double take. Wow, you are beautiful!" I looked around to see who he was talking too, only to realize I was the only one there and it must be me. I turned to his vehicle to see a handsome honest face. I was floored.

"Thank you so much, how is your day?"

"Well, I'm not working, that's a good thing."

"I am going into work, but only for a couple of hours."

"Well at least it's not a full day for you. You are so striking, do you know that?"

"Um no. But you made my day. Thank you again hope you have a good one."

Later I was telling my closet organizer designer the story that had me grinning from ear to ear on the way out of the hospital, recalling the encounter.

"That would have made my year."

"Yeah, you are right. Definitely the week. Maybe the year. I compliment women all the time, but never men. Well, occasionally my partners if they dress up. Maybe I should do it more often. It sure feels good. Especially when there's no creep factor involved."

Thursday, July 6, 2017

Monumental Seizure

As of July 1st, we control histology and transcription. A contract years in the making. Histology moved downstairs to a sparkling new lab I toured for the first time today. We now have over a dozen new employees.

It's not without hiccups. We had to call plumbing for the immunostain machines. There are cases from Monday that I still haven't been able to sign out - clinicians are restless and we are too. But our turnaround time is exemplary, and I think they will forgive us this holiday/move week. For the first time in ten years, the possibilities (new stains, less bureaucracy, a semblance of control) seem endless.

There is death, and there is renewal.

This is my homework this week. The Flower of Life. It is fascinating.

Wednesday, July 5, 2017


It's hard to imagine the vastness of evil.

I found out today my good friend, David Kendrick, was a victim of probable homicide.

We last spoke on Saturday. He spoke of new beginnings, I encouraged him in his endeavor and promised dinner with the kids soon. We both signed off with hugs. We have become good friends over the past two years, more than just casual aftercare acquaintances. He was a kind and loving soul. His friendship meant the world to me. I was closer to him than any other teacher at my kid's school. I was his go to for parental and kid volunteering, and I hung the moon to accommodate him over everyone else.

There are so many few good male role models in lower school. David has been a steadfast presence in Jack's life, over the past few years.

I had to tell Jack tonight, before someone else got to him. It was one of the hardest conversations I have had in my lifetime.

R.I.P. David Kendrick. We love and grieve and mourn and miss you. I vow to continue your legacy - championing LGBTQ rights. May your soul live on to continue your good works. 

Tuesday, July 4, 2017


The rise and fall of breath
The push and pull of the ocean's tide
The upstroke and downstroke of wings in flight
The rise of dawn
The constriction and relaxation of the beat of the heart
Unconditional love

That last one is hard. The hardest person to bestow unconditional love upon is the self. I've been working on that a lot over the past year - forgiving myself my curves, my habits that society deems bad, my getting flustered at being the center of attention, my crooked nose. It is important, because you cannot give your loved ones unconditional love, no matter how much you fool yourself that you can, until you give it to yourself. It leaks out unconsciously - the conditions.

Happy holiday. I've been working. Time to start playing. In a few. I've got some homework to do.

Saturday, July 1, 2017


I was on a long bike ride today. In pounding summer heat. Thinking about what I would teach tomorrow.

I'm teaching Sunday School this month - me, a heathen! It's the last of my series of four - interrupted by Alaska. I'm thinking it's going to be a small group, after all - it's a holiday weekend. My first week was my faith journey - I talked the whole hour. My second week focused on a book I bought for my entire class. Light is the new Black, by Rebecca Campbell. It's astonishingly positive, I skimmed and forgot it already, but it speaks to my new worldview. The third week was an open discussion about angels. It was sublime.

Breath is the center of everything. The center of yoga, meditation, and connecting with your soul. I had a panic attack about three years ago. Full of hyperventilation, carbon dioxide, constricting brain vessels, and ultimate tingling of the hands and unconsciousness. In a freaking parking lot of an apartment complex on Rodney Parham. A man saw my hazards, pulled over to make sure I was ok, and I locked the doors and screamed for him to go away. Saw him as a threat.

When I came around, the world seemed different. Kind of scary. I needed beta blockers more than ever before - more than lecturing a group of over 100 med students, more than being interviewed about the Swine Flu on TV. Slowly I came around to driving again, without a threat of a panic attack. It took time. Where, I wondered, was the foolhardy teenager that drove all over the South with a book on the wheel? Eyes darting from book to road. Pulling over when emotions overcame me. That girl was bottled up.

We breathe to live. When I do journey work, breathing is the main focus of Reiki. I imagine Mother Earth's energy - a soulful white light - entering through my bare feet and exiting my head to connect with the Divine. When I was in high school, I learned a breathing method that I taught to my kids at a young age. Breathe in, really belly breathe, and pretend it's a color. I use white for the in - to heal. When you breathe out, breathe an angry color - I use red. It works for physical ailments, which are really only a manifestation of an injured soul.

We just need our breath. It can sustain us. Slow us down. Our breath is enough.