Got Milk?

When I had just graduated high school, my best friend Jan and I backpacked through Europe for a month with nothing more than a Eurail Pass, a few years of some foreign languages we picked up in high school and a dream of seeing the world. I was only 17, and that trip was life-changing. I learned more and I grew up more in that one month than in all the years of my childhood combined. During the plane ride home I can remember my thoughts as if it were just yesterday. I had a newfound appreciation for life and the little things that most of us take for granted. For example, a hot meal in front of me, the clean clothes I was wearing, the roof over my head, my friends and my family, and most of all my health. What’s upsetting is that it took a trip like that to discover my appreciation for those things, an appreciation that we shouldn't NEED to be reminded of. Rare is the individual who truly appreciates what he or she has, but I aspire to be that individual every day. Much like my trip to Europe, this ‘trip’ to Iraq is teaching me a newfound appreciation for things once again…

Life is short and people die unexpectedly, as I will soon explain. And as morbid as this may sound, we waste what little precious time we have with one another over pointless arguments. Instead of enjoying the time we have with one another, we live our life in stress and we get upset about things over which we have no control. We get mad when our partner comes home late for dinner, instead of being appreciative that he or she is working to provide money for the food that’s on the table. We yell at the office printer when it jams instead of being grateful that we’re not copying our notes by hand like they used to. We get pissed off when our car breaks down and requires maintenance instead of being thankful that we have our own transportation. I wonder where this complacency about life comes from and I wonder why it takes such dramatic events such as a Doctor telling you that you only have weeks to live or a trip to Europe or even a deployment to a war zone for someone to recognize how good he really has it (myself no exception).

I walk around this base and although there are no roses in sight, I stop to smell them every chance I get. I look up at the clouds whenever they roll by and I smile. I look in the mirror every morning and I am grateful that God has given me another day. A shower with hot water and good water pressure makes me smile – it’s not a daily chore, but a gift. I no longer look at my e-mail Inbox as another thing on my ‘to do list’, but rather as a list of comforting thoughts - that somewhere out there in the world, some of my friends are thinking about me and want to send me their greetings. I don’t exercise at the gym because I have to or because I’d feel guilt if I didn’t or because my doctor told me to, I do it because I’m grateful that I have a strong body that is capable of exercise, remembering that while I may choose not to run, there are soldiers with amputated limbs who don’t have that choice, soldiers that gave their life so that I could make that choice. Sometimes we wake up on the wrong side of the bed, and ok – I get it – everyone has bad days, but all things being relative, stop yourself for a minute next time and ask yourself how bad your day really is. Are the things that are upsetting you really worth getting so stressed over? How often do we stop to smell the roses? Moreover, how often do we stop to be grateful for the things that others do for us? When is the last time you did something nice for your spouse/roommate/friend/neighbor/partner not because it was their birthday or anniversary or because you “owed them a favor”, but just because you wanted to tell them, “I appreciate you. I appreciate that you are a part of my life.” I know the Soldier’s Angels reading this do this all the time, but wouldn’t the world be a much brighter place if everyone in it did that?

One of the best parts about being a Doctor is some of the wonderful news you get to tell people. “Congratulatons, you’re pregnant!” or “You’ll be happy to know, it’s not cancer”, or even “Your physical came back normal, you’re as healthy as a horse” (are horses really that healthy?). But sometimes, the great news can come in stranger ways. One of my Marines has an ex-girlfriend who is pregnant with his child (he doesn’t mind me sharing this story). She has been demanding child support for this unborn child and to my Marine’s distress; she has been unwilling to communicate with him in a healthy way. He tries to call, to work things out and to discuss the situation, but he says that she won’t cooperate. So in chatting with him I asked how pregnant she was. He said that he wasn’t sure, but she was due any day. I asked about when he last saw her, and he told me it was the day before he moved to Hawaii, which was also the last time that they had intercourse - late August of last year. With my wheels turning, I took out my Obstetrical wheel to go over the dates of this pregnancy, and lo and behold, his ex-girlfriend was 45 weeks pregnant!! Needless to say, being physiologically impossible, I gave him some wonderful news that was a first for me, “Congratulations, this ISN’T your baby!” He was so relieved and overjoyed (as he is very young, this was not a planned pregnancy and he was always so careful). It turns out, the ex had been seeing other guys during the “difficult period” proceeding their ‘act’, and the baby (poor little thing) did not belong to my Marine.

Unfortunately, when the pendulum swings all the way to the right, there’s no place left for it to swing but to the left and that’s exactly what happened. The next day I had to tell the same Marine that his mother’s lung cancer had come back and had metastasized to her brain, that she had chosen not to undergo chemo again, and that soon she would not be able to recognize him (as her mental status was deteriorating). She was going to die. I actually spoke to his mom on the phone and promised her that I would do everything in my power to reunite her with her son, so they could spend some quality time together before her demise. She thanked me, and then started to cry. It was difficult… all around, and to boot, Marine policy usually states that unless you’re knocking on death’s door, you can’t take emergency leave. Well, if that were the case, he’d see her when she was unconscious, and that’s not how I wanted him to remember his mother. So, with a little bit of finagling on my part, he is now on a plane to go home and spend 2 weeks with his mom…

Secretly I’ve always dreamt about going to culinary school. In fact, although I’ve never told anyone this, I sometimes have thought that I made the wrong decision going into medicine. I’ve always wanted to open up my own restaurant, be the head chef and write the menu. I was thinking about naming it “R.J.’s” or “R.J.’s Bar & Grill”. Now don’t get me wrong, I like medicine, but I remember a long time ago I sat down at the Steak & Ale in Bethlehem, PA with my mom while I was attending college and I told her I was changing majors (I was International Business at the time). She asked to what and I told her to Pre-Med, but that I was also considering Restaurant Management and Culinary School. I remember my mom’s words to a tee “Oh, be a Doctor…! You can cook on the side!” Well, I have no regrets about that decision, and it was good advice mom, but I just sometimes wonder what it would’ve been like if I wasn’t a Doctor. Every time I daydream about this “alternate reality” I wonder if I “missed” my calling. And then a day like today comes along, when I know I’ve made a real difference in someone’s life and I stop doubting myself. Moreover, if my sole purpose for being a Doctor was to lead me down this path to this moment so that I could get this Marine home to spend 2 more weeks with his mom, then I know it was worth it. When I think of his mom, her cancer and the fact that she woke up one morning and was told that she’d only have a few weeks to live, it reaffirms my desire to appreciate life and be grateful for what we have…

..PS… thank you everyone for the Strawberry Oreo cookies.