Little Rock's finest

The names have been changed in this post to protect the ridiculous.

I'm batting 25%. 25% of the doctors that I have been to in Little Rock I felt comfortable with and displayed more knowledge than the common med student - or at least took time to answer my questions. The family practitioner - nope. The neurologist - not even close. And then finally this last Thursday I went to the Gynecologist - the worst of the aforementioned "doctors."

I called the Central Arkansas Women's Clinic (flag #1) at the end of March and asked for an appointment. The reptionisht asked me if I had a doctor preference (flag #2) to which I responded no. She said that I would get in quicker if I was willing to see a man. Most of my vagina doctors have been male, so I was not appalled at the thought. Then she said, how about the 7th of April with Dr. Flight a very good doctor, Dr. Sam Flight. She stumbled as this, and she repeated his name TWICE (flag #3). Not to mention that this appointment was only like 2 weeks later - most appointments I have made with an OB/GYN have had at least a month late. I mean, I had to wait 6 months to get a new patient appointment with my Dentist (the one doctor I loved). So, on the day of my appointment I went early - I'm trying to turn over a new leaf and be on time to things. This means that I got there exactly at the required 10 minutes before your scheduled appointment time.

After waiting in the waiting room for an hour, my name was finally called. The nurse was VERY rude. When she did talk to me she talked to me like a child. She told me I had to go to the bathroom and go "teetee" in the cup. I was embarassed for her. When I got back in the room of course I got fully undressed, but still tried to cover myself up completely with the small piece of paper they gave me. After reading an old magazine for 20 minutes, the doctor walked in. Im sorry, let me correct the previous statement. After reading an old magazine for a grueling 20 minutes in the nude the doctor came in shuffling his feet and using every object in his path to brace him as he slowly made it to his chair. I thought to myself: using a walker would be less insulting...wait, no it wouldnt. Anyways, if you cant gather what I am saying - this man was about 90.

This is how I envisioned this appointment going: Since I'm a new patient he would sit down with me for 10 minutes or so and discuss my health history as well as my plans for children in the future. Then he would call in the nurse to assist him with the vaginal and breast exam. Did either of those things happen?? Nope.

He asked me if I was having any problems, to which I said no. And then he went straight in for the exam without anyone else present. I felt a little uncomfortable - maybe it was the compliments he was giving me on my reproductive health. While he was almost finished, but his hand was surely still squeezing my right breast, he asked me: "do you work out?" Me: "um, yeah." Dr. Time: "I can tell."

It must have been my A-cups.

At the end of the exam I asked the Good Old Doctor: "My husband and I are going to start to try and have children within the next year, and I'm afraid it wont be easy for us. Is there anything I should know now?" He responded: "Congratulations, but you shouldn't worry." After a long silence (I wasnt sure if he had died or not since his eyes were closed), I said alrighty then and the appointment was over. I was in and out in 7 minutes after the doctor came in. Seems worth it for waiting almost an hour and a half. But hey, what can I expect from someone that is traveling at the speed of 12 feet per hour.

Air Force Marathon

It's official. I am signed up for the Air Force Half-Marathon in September. This will not be first attempt at running a Half-Marathon, but it is the first one that I have ever actually registered for.

I have been on a diet since the beginning of last week. I came back from my wedding and decided to eat everything that I could in sight. Well I had...had enough. On Monday I weighed myself and weighed a whopping 165.1. I kid you not. That would be about a 10 pound weight gain since I got back from the DR. Kinda ridiculous. AFter 1 week of dieting, I have lost about 5 pounds...but definitely not where I should be.

My family and I have been talking about the AF Half-Marathon for a couple of weeks now. This weekend I sat down and wrote out a run schedule to get me where I need to be. Aside from doing Insanity a few times, I have not worked out since early February. I knew it was going to be rough.

So, yesterday I went out to take a leisurely jog - although my actually training was not starting until today. When I went outside, although beautiful, it was 91 degrees outside. Running was not going to happen. I walked for about 45 minutes and decided to call it a day. Dont worry, I woke up sore this morning. From walking...

Tonight I went out in my new running hat, new running shirt and my shoes tied tight determined to get in a run. I only had to run 2 miles. I didnt have a watch nor did I have a pre-determined distance mapped out. I thought that running a 10 minute mile would be accurate for me and then also thought that 5 songs on my IPod would be about 20 minutes. It was very hot outside, but all together my run was not as bad as expected. At the end of the 5th song I was ready to stop. I thought to myself, I just struggled through 2 miles. How am I going to get through 13.1?

At least I'm on the road - it may be a long journey, but I'll get there.

Here is my training schedule for this week:
Sunday: 2 miles
Monday: Walking
Tuesday: 2 miles
Wednesday: Walking
Thursday: 2 miles
Friday: Walking
Saturday: Rest

The apple doesn't fall far from the tree

Growing up I always wanted to fall as far away from my tree as I could. And, every time my mother said this quote to me it was a reminder that I was not going to be like them. Not that they were terrible people, because quite frankly I have the best parents in the world...but because who wants to be like their parents anyways? Becoming like them signifies aging and beginning to wear socks with sandels, and going to bed at 7:30pm after watching NCIS on dvr.

When we were children my sister, brother and I used to give my mother some healthy ribbing from time to time - which I'm sure we learned from my father. Which by the way was always something I admired about my mother, her ability to brush off things that did not matter. She has a great ability to support those she loves through think and thin. Maybe that is why she became a nurse. Anyways, there are a few things that my mother did that we liked to joke about: take extreme caution when eating dinner, and also her ability to cry at Zale's commercials.

My family and I, while all sitting around the dinner table (which did not happen very often), would count the chews that my mother took with each bite - out loud. Can you imagine it? 4 people all looking at you and counting in unison as you ate a steak? I would have had an aneurysm. First of all...that's annoying. And second, what...a waste, of a good steak. I think that is why I eat fast; no need to give anyone chance to make fun of me.

I recall watching the movie, My Dog Skip, with my mother when I was in high school. At the end of the movie, I started to hear small gasps for breath coming from the direction of my mother. There she was, lips pursed together trying to contain her sobs, face pink, eyes red and tears flowing as though they had been flowing for hours before I realized it. Of course I laughed, but only because I was dumbfounded at how someone could have such an emotional reaction to the passing of a fictional dog. I would expect ONE tear rolling down the cheek, but not all out bawling as though your first born has just died. It's not like we had a family pet that was around for 20 years - she couldn't even draw from life experiences.

In my old age, I am noticing more and more things that are leading me to believe I have fallen right under that apple tree. Which, let's be honest...isn't such a bad thing. However last weekend the strangest thing happened to me, and I was appalled. I was watching the movie, Life As A House. Have you ever seen it? Seriously watch it...I own it :) Meaning, this was not the first time that I have seen this movie - it just happened to be on TV so I partook. Anyways, it got to the part where the son finishes the house without the father because he is physically unable to. I felt that my lips were pursed together and I was having a hard time breathing. All of a sudden I just couldn't hold it anymore. I began crying like my first born child had passed away. And, I. Mean. Sobbing. No one was there, so I just cried it out. And at then end, I laughed, because I was dumbfounded at how someone can be so like their mother.

But, I pulled from real life experiences...so I have an excuse. I have always wanted to build my own home overlooking the beach :)

Sin Esposo

Last Sunday my husband went on a TDY to Washington (state, not DC). He is on a TDY to finish up his pilot training. While there he will spend a lot of time "camping" in the woods simulating things that might occur if you were to crash during war and be taken as a POW. Yes, from what I hear even simulating the POW treatment as well. Anyways, I have heard stories from other spouses that their husbands came back as though they were emotionally damaged from the experience...PTSD if you will. So needless to say I am very worried about my little lover.

I have spent a lot of time the first few days apart thinking about how my chores have doubled...so apparently I'n not too worried about him. This reminds me of my single life living alone and I dont like it one bit. Here are the top five reasons I miss my husband:

1. Gas: I am appalled at the idea of pumping gas. The process of getting gas is so annoying to me that I will avoid it at all costs. In fact, Monday evening as I was driving home from work I noticed that the Corolla was getting low on gas. I drove straight home and sat on the couch for the rest of the night. In the morning I grabbed the keys for the Mustang and drove that until Thursday night when I was out of gas in that car. If only I could have combined the 2 tanks I would have had one more trip in me. When Gustavo is here gas somehow gas seems to appear in our cars as though some little hispanic fairy lives in our garage. That fairy must have gotten lost when we moved into our new apartment.

2. Dinner: Gustavo is definitely the cook in this relationship. I had cowtails and wine for dinner one night this week.

3. Boxes: We just moved here. When Gustavo left on Sunday, we had about 20 boxes to unpack. Today, Friday, we have 19.

4. Maintenance: Let's just say, for example, you get home from work and there is a loud humming noise coming from your apartment that lasts a good 24 hours. And, it turns out to be a clogged dryer duct. I think I would like some advice on how to handle that before calling emergency maintenance to enter our box riddled home. Advice from Washington (state, not DC) is not very accurate. Clearly an example.

5. Finally and most importantly, I miss my husband because he is my best friend. Although our bed is free of snoring and I have it all to myself or the fact that I dont have to listen to the incesant nonsense of Glenn Beck twice a day...that doesnt matter. I would trade it in to have him here.

So, I pray that he comes back to me just as he left me; and be thankful that this is a reminder of how life is a long road alone.




Our old little base house. I loved it...aside from the military annoucements made daily right outside our bedroom window.



Our new spare bedroom and an obnoxious amount of boxes. I took this photo 2 minutes prior to posting.