Like last year I think I'm going to write at least in part about my mom as part of NaNoWriMo.
In 2006 I wrote a fantasy where I was able to jump into different parts of my mom's life, but i didn't finish it.
In 2007 I wrote kind of a "young adult" novel which was inspired by Pat Murphy and Ellen Klages, basically writing about myself and the experiences with my mom getting sick, but revising my teacher for gifted and talented class to be actually cool, and to be actually an amalgam of all these awesome mentor women that I wish I knew when I was growing up in North Dakota.
I actually did know some of them (Mrs. Langemo, Eileen Maresh, etc) but couldn't really connect with them.
Anyway - now I'm going to write I think about a character who is like my mom, but never had kids, and who either actually does become a doctor as a young woman, or who returns to medical school as a 2nd career (after being a med tech first).
This should be a great option for large descriptive passages about the med school experience and what it's like for someone who's not the same age as the other students. Lots of material for 50,000 words.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Anne Murray at the Blood Center
Yesterday I (Solveig) went to donate blood at the Stanford Blood Center on campus.
Apart from the overall desire to help in the current blood shortages (they are only 20% capacity of my blood type right now) - I somehow feel closer to my mom, just being in a lab.
Around all the (mostly) older women in white lab coats. I remember her telling stories about the lab where she worked, about the quest to find veins to stick, some of the crankier patients, being on call, doing rounds at the Care Center or the hospital.
Several years ago I was wandering around on campus (as an alum) and decided to give blood at a Bloodmobile on White Plaza. The woman who did the donation reminded me of my mom even more, she had brown hair, she was around the same height, and she was being very nice to me. I think she may have even called me "sweetie" at some point.
So yesterday the lady who was doing the initial screening (questions, blood pressure, temp, hemoglobin check) did not look like my mom at all (she was an older Indian lady) -- but she was very nice.
The point of this whole post - though, is that they were playing an Anne Murray album! I had thought it was just one song at first - but I was able to hear at least 3 while I was getting my tests done with the Indian lady. Kind of cheesily but it felt like my mom was watching, or was there. I was so happy because I thought I'd get to listen to it while I was donating blood in the next room, too.
Sadly, when I went next door to the donation room, I couldn't hear the music anymore...although I tried.
The donation went ok after that - everything fine. In the "cookies/juice" post area, I had an entertaining conversation with a Paly High debate team member (at least she had a Paly High debate t-shirt, may be now in college) - who was volunteering, and a 6th grader. Not sure how/if they were connected. I started talking with them because teenager asked me about the "Dishwasher Pete" book I was reading.
Then 6th grader pointed out that she was reading Harry Potter, and teen pointed out that she had lived each book of Harry Potter along with Harry - the same age as Harry for each book.
6th grader was very cute with a fleece zip-up with a horse's head on the front.
The 6th grader, very "old for her age", told very precise stories about her grandfather and the "grapes in his backyard" and the "other vineyards" that he has.
Both girls could say "prosciutto" (at least I can spell it) and the 6th grader told us a recipe from her grandmother that uses it.
The teenager had gone on a "medical mission" to Ghana recently with her mom's friend who is an OB/GYN, and her mom, who I think is a psychiatrist. Apparently the girl's job was to run in and out of the operating rooms bringing needed items.
I asked her if she wanted to be a doctor - was she doing this to get experience?
No, she said, she wanted to go to Ghana and it seemed like a fun thing to do... She never said what she is interested in doing.
I didn't realize until I started writing about these two girls, that they could represent me at this two important points: when i was 12 and Mom went into the coma, and when I was 16 and she died. (And if teen is college, also when I was 18 and left home to go to Stanford, leaving the twins at home).
I don't think I was even 1/10 as confident as the 6th grader. She acts literally as if the world is her oyster. So well supported.
The teenager was a little rougher around the edges but she also just seemed so herself. for example, she was supposed to make sure people stay in the break area for 15 min after donating. She would write the time to leave on the person's juice cup, but instead of writing the full time, she just wrote the number from the clock.
So I was supposed to leave at the "6" so she had scrawled a six on the cup. I wound up staying until the 8 because the chat was so interesting. And there were good cookies.
Apart from the overall desire to help in the current blood shortages (they are only 20% capacity of my blood type right now) - I somehow feel closer to my mom, just being in a lab.
Around all the (mostly) older women in white lab coats. I remember her telling stories about the lab where she worked, about the quest to find veins to stick, some of the crankier patients, being on call, doing rounds at the Care Center or the hospital.
Several years ago I was wandering around on campus (as an alum) and decided to give blood at a Bloodmobile on White Plaza. The woman who did the donation reminded me of my mom even more, she had brown hair, she was around the same height, and she was being very nice to me. I think she may have even called me "sweetie" at some point.
So yesterday the lady who was doing the initial screening (questions, blood pressure, temp, hemoglobin check) did not look like my mom at all (she was an older Indian lady) -- but she was very nice.
The point of this whole post - though, is that they were playing an Anne Murray album! I had thought it was just one song at first - but I was able to hear at least 3 while I was getting my tests done with the Indian lady. Kind of cheesily but it felt like my mom was watching, or was there. I was so happy because I thought I'd get to listen to it while I was donating blood in the next room, too.
Sadly, when I went next door to the donation room, I couldn't hear the music anymore...although I tried.
The donation went ok after that - everything fine. In the "cookies/juice" post area, I had an entertaining conversation with a Paly High debate team member (at least she had a Paly High debate t-shirt, may be now in college) - who was volunteering, and a 6th grader. Not sure how/if they were connected. I started talking with them because teenager asked me about the "Dishwasher Pete" book I was reading.
Then 6th grader pointed out that she was reading Harry Potter, and teen pointed out that she had lived each book of Harry Potter along with Harry - the same age as Harry for each book.
6th grader was very cute with a fleece zip-up with a horse's head on the front.
The 6th grader, very "old for her age", told very precise stories about her grandfather and the "grapes in his backyard" and the "other vineyards" that he has.
Both girls could say "prosciutto" (at least I can spell it) and the 6th grader told us a recipe from her grandmother that uses it.
The teenager had gone on a "medical mission" to Ghana recently with her mom's friend who is an OB/GYN, and her mom, who I think is a psychiatrist. Apparently the girl's job was to run in and out of the operating rooms bringing needed items.
I asked her if she wanted to be a doctor - was she doing this to get experience?
No, she said, she wanted to go to Ghana and it seemed like a fun thing to do... She never said what she is interested in doing.
I didn't realize until I started writing about these two girls, that they could represent me at this two important points: when i was 12 and Mom went into the coma, and when I was 16 and she died. (And if teen is college, also when I was 18 and left home to go to Stanford, leaving the twins at home).
I don't think I was even 1/10 as confident as the 6th grader. She acts literally as if the world is her oyster. So well supported.
The teenager was a little rougher around the edges but she also just seemed so herself. for example, she was supposed to make sure people stay in the break area for 15 min after donating. She would write the time to leave on the person's juice cup, but instead of writing the full time, she just wrote the number from the clock.
So I was supposed to leave at the "6" so she had scrawled a six on the cup. I wound up staying until the 8 because the chat was so interesting. And there were good cookies.
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