Category Archives: work

Being In The Right Place

I had a really interesting evaluation question to answer some time ago. It involved helping a psychiatrist with a diagnosis that she just wasn’t certain about.  The possible diagnostic alternatives were serious, one more so than the other.

I took an extensive history from the accompanying family member,  gave the client in question a series of tests, and came up with an alternative diagnosis that the psychiatrist hadn’t considered.  I am still waiting for testing to come back from family members and will then let the psychiatrist know what I am thinking in terms of diagnoses, and  what further steps the she needs to take with this client.

It was during the process of doing this evaluation that I got an exhilarating  sense that I absolutely loved what I was doing and was absolutely in the right place to be doing it. I don’t often get that feeling, but it is was nice when it happens.

What have been the times you got the feeling that you were absolutely in the right place, job, or relationship?

What About Cousins?

I live pretty equidistant from about three Indian reservations in three different states.  I sometimes see tribal members  at my community mental health agency.  Part of doing my work is getting a good family history.  I have noticed, over 30 years of practice,  distinct differences in how tribal members and everyone who is not a tribal member describes family relationships.  For my tribal clients, there are any number of aunties, uncles,  sisters, and brothers who are important in their lives. They  just don’t match how I, in my eurocentric  orientation, define family.

A good friend of our, a person who is an Arikara Indian,  one of the Three Affiliated Tribes from the Fort Berthold Reservation where Husband works,  posted on Facebook recently a way to navigate these family relationships.

This apparently comes from some sort of Mandan, Arikara, and Hidatsa tribal handbook. Here is how you navigate relationships. for boys. Girls are pretty much the same.

Who is my mother?

  1. My birth mother.
  2. .My mother’s sister
  3. My father’s brother’s wife
  4. My clan father’s wives (My father’s clan brothers)

Who is my father? 

  1. My birth father
  2. My father’s brothers
  3. My sister’s husband
  4. My father’s mother’s brother
  5. My clan fathers (My father’s clan brothers)
  6. My father’s sister’s son

Who is my sister?

  1. My blood sister
  2. My father’s brother’s daughter
  3. My sister’s daughters
  4. My female clan members (My mother’s clan)
  5. Female children of my father’s clan
  6. My mother’s sister’s daughter

Who is my brother?

  1. My blood brothers
  2. My father’s brother’s sons
  3. My sister’s son’s
  4. My mother’s sisters’ sons
  5. My clan male mothers
  6. Male children of my fathers’ clan
  7. My mother’s brother
  8. My mother’s mother’s brother

Who is my auntie?

  1. My father’s sisters
  2.  My father’s sister’s daughter-each generation
  3. My clan aunts (My father’s clan sisters)

Who is my grandmother?

  1. My mother’s mother
  2. My mother’s mother’s sister (Grandmother’s sister)
  3. My father’s mother
  4. My father’s mother’s sister
  5. My mother’s father’s sister-each generation

I notice that great uncles, great aunts, and cousins are defined differently here.  I also find that if I use this to define my family relationships, I have a lot more siblings, parents, and aunts and uncles. That is kind of comforting.

How do you define family? How would your definition change given the above information? 

 

Dog Days

I’m not getting much done at work today. During the summer, every Friday is “Bring Your Dog to Work Day” and I am in dog heaven.  I keep dog treats in my cube and on Fridays, I actually have a stash in my pocket throughout the day.

Today in addition to Charlie and Bernie Mac and Vegas (GoldenDoodle, Puggle, Doberman) who are here most Fridays, we have a brand new puppy. 8-week old Dave Grohl (name of somebody in some band that I don’t know about), a golden retriever.  He has the wonderful puppy smell and that squishy soft puppy skin.

Rufus, Mochi, Brandon and Ash are off today but I’ve petted (and fed) a couple of others, whose names I don’t know, as they travel through the building. I’m on a main aisle and I think the dogs can smell the treats in my pocket as they’re going by so they stop by!

What perk would make your Fridays better?

My Little Rock Star

My company does a fun summer program that includes concerts out on the big lawn between two of our buildings. On Thursday it was Chris Kroeze.  As I was tapping my toe I noticed a toddler towards the front of the crowd, not more than four.  His folks and younger sibling were sitting on the grass behind him but there was no sitting for him.  He had a small electric guitar (probably not real) and he was wailing on it.  Non-stop.  And he had moves; he looked like he would have been right at home up on the stage.  I stayed out on the lawn for about 30 minutes and this kid was playing his heart out the entire time.   I thought about going over and introducing myself and asking his name, because I’m sure in 15-20 years, he’s going to be famous and I would be able to say I knew him when.

Have you ever met a famous person? Was it what you expected?

Got Out Of That One

Husband and I used to erect three, 10 foot long, steel hog panels in the garden for the peas to grow up. We secured the panels  to thin, plastic coated metal poles using  wire. The panels worked great,  but they got too heavy to move and too bulky to store, so, the for past couple of years we have used plastic poultry netting stapled to wooden poles for the peas to grow up.

This year the wooden poles are tall, thin, and not very straight or stable. I put the fence up, and it looks very crooked and  has lots of  droopy gaps. The finicky, Dutch part of me cringes when I look at it.  It will do for the peas,  though, and I have every confidence that no rancher in his right mind will ever ask me to help him with fencing.  It is nice to think that is one responsibility I will never have.

What skill do you lack that you either wish you had or you are glad you don’t possess?

I Forgot

Our leisurely, stay-at-home Sunday turned into a 180 mile round trip drive to the Reservation where Husband works. He was so tired when he drove home on Thursday that he forgot his laptop computer in his office. He usually isn’t so forgetful. He hauls many things back and forth from the Reservation to home and I know he is eager to get on the road at the end of the week.  He needed the laptop  to complete case notes for his private practice. All his note templates are on the laptop. He really wanted to get the notes done this weekend, so we jumped in the van and drove to New Town and back. It took about 4 hours.

The road to the Reservation is a two-lane State highway with lots of twists and turns and steep grades.  Husband  was upset and angry with himself, so I drove. There wasn’t as much oilfield traffic on a Sunday afternoon.    At least we got to see lots of red tail hawks and a bunch of calves getting branded.  It was sunny and the Badlands terrain was green from recent rains.  I also got to see the two raised- bed gardens  that Husband set up for the boys’ addiction group to tend.  I suggested that he put copies of the templates on our home computer in case he forgets his laptop again.  He agreed.

What do you find hard to remember?

 

Reboot

Our Microsoft Outlook went wonky last week, and wouldn’t send any emails, telling me that all our messages were rejected because of abusive behavior on our part.  This happened once before, and the tech guy who fixes our computer had to push some unknown button to correct the issue so that Outlook communicated with our internet provider.  When it happened again last week, I took a chance and just restarted the computer. It did a few upgrades and, voila, our emails were delivered.

I needed a reboot after a stressful late winter and early spring at work and with my regulatory board. Our travels kept me from rebooting in the way that is the best for me, which is pulling weeds and planting new plants and seeds. I finally got to do it last weekend, and, despite developing that weird eye virus, it greatly helped my spirit and made me very happy. It is hard for me to focus on work problems when I am weeding and laying down soaker hoses. It is good for me to worry about cut worms instead of paperwork deadlines. This year we only planted 21 perennials, a record low for us, but our garden beds are really shaping up. I can breathe deep and relax just looking out the windows.

How do you recharge and reboot? Any wonky computer issues vexing you?

Mashing It Up

When I am over my head at work, making lunch in the morning is not something I want to spend a lot of time on.  That’s why I try to cook on the weekends, so that there are leftovers that can be quickly scooped into containers for lunch.  Yesterday morning there wasn’t much to choose from but there were four different take-out containers from last week, each with a bit left: Vegetable Fried Rice, Sticky White Rice, Broccoli in Garlic Sauce, Egg Foo Yung.  I dumped all of them into one container, mostly thinking it was the best I could do and resigning myself to a lunch that would be mediocre at best.

But it was great.  I stirred it all together, warmed it up in the microwave and it was a big comfort at lunchtime.  Not quite macaroni & cheese, or pizza, but close!

Do you have a surprising mash-up in your life?

Time to Slow Down

Last Wednesday I  began to feel somewhat tired with a sore throat. I hadn’t been sick all winter, and  knew that I was due for something. I see a lot of children, all who lately seemed to be dripping, sneezing, or coughing over me and my office.  My work schedule had been grueling and there had been multiple special meetings of my regulatory board due to vexing issues.  I went home early on Wednesday, tried to pace myself at work on Thursday and Friday, and then got hit with the full effects of a nasty respiratory virus on Saturday. I was home all day from work on Monday.  I made it to work on Tuesday, but just barely.  Every day I woke up and thought “Well, it should be getting better now”, and it seemed to be worse instead of letting up. I have been doing nothing except playing solitaire and napping since Saturday.

I so very rarely get sick that I view episodes like the one I am dealing with now to be a sign from the universe that I need to take better care of myself.  To that end I decided that I am not taking my laptop with me to Los Angeles this week. I usually travel with it just in case I have to do some work for my regulatory board. I figure the world of regulation will do just fine without me for four days. I will not check my work email while I am gone, either.  My coworkers will do just fine without me until I get back. It is time to slow down,

What are signs to you that you need to slow down? How do you “do” self care?

Rusks

I baked 11 dozen sweet rolls for an Easter fundraiser at church to raise money to send our bell choir to New York in November.  The rolls were either cinnamon, raspberry, or blueberry filled, and were lavishly iced. I had 3 dozen left at the end of the day, and brought them home and made them into rusks. That involved cutting them in half, brushing them with melted butter, and baking them at 275 until they were crispy/chewy. They store really well.

I brought a bag of rusks to work on Tuesday. My coworkers  thought they were delicious,  but only one  had ever eaten anything like them before and knew what rusks were.

This puzzled me greatly, since I assumed that everyone would know rusks. I grew up with Zwieback and Dutch rusks.  Dutch rusks came in round packages with windmills on the paper covers, and my grandparents would pour broth on them to soften them up.  My coworkers are of German Russian and Czech heritage, and many of them grew up on farms, and I thought they would be familiar with a fine way to extend to life of stale bread.  The only one who knew rusks was a coworker of Danish heritage.  She said her grandmother used to butter stale bread and sprinkle it with cinnamon and sugar and bake it. She didn’t know they were called rusks.

You would have thought I had brought in the most exotic pastry imaginable. I looked up rusks on the internet, and found that there are examples of twice-baked bread from the Philippines to Greece. I think that it was used extensively to extend the shelf life of bread on sea voyages. There are loads of rusk recipes in the Nordic Baking Book my son and dil gave me for Christmas. Perhaps rusks are more common the closer you live to the Baltic or North Seas. In any event, they demand more rusks at work.

What family or ethnic foods do you have a hard time explaining to other people?