Public Service Announcement ~ by Jay

Pets are not children.

Aside from the misanthropic vitriol, I am astounded by the number of commenters who compare their pets to other people's children. Please note that people who actually have children do not seem to use this analogy. (Disclaimer: I couldn't bring myself to read every single comment.)

I don't say this because I dislike animals. I love my dogs. I like cats and rabbits and guinea pigs and I once had a lovely encounter with a ferret. Sam and I had dogs 10 years before we became parents. I have a relationship with my dogs; they are sentient beings with personalities and opinions and emotions and needs. But they are dogs. WackoDog and Growler sleep on the floor (although they'd prefer our bed), eat kibble, not steak, stay in crates when we're out of the house and are packed off to the kennel when we travel, even if they don't really like it (one does, one doesn't). When people who don't like dogs come to visit, we either keep the dogs in their crates for short visits or put them in the kennel for overnight stays.

Eve, on the other hand, sleeps in a bed for which she has chosen the sheets, has a fair amount of say over what she eats, and people who don't like babies just didn't come visit us for a while. When we travel, we usually take her with us; if she stays home, she stays with friends or relatives that she likes and we call her every day. I have never called the kennel to check on the dogs.

I do expect people who come to our home to interact appropriately with my daughter. I don't require them to even meet my dogs. Someday - much too soon - Eve will be an independent person; she needs to be out in the world with us to learn how to be out in the world without us. My dogs will always be what they are, and if they never leave our yard, that's OK.

20 years ago, when we got our first dog and people said "oh, now you're parents!" I thought they were nuts, and I still do. Don't compare my daughter to your Boxer, or Great Dane, or Golden Retriever. ( And don't even start with me about the Pomeranians and the Chihuahuas; if it has to wear a coat, it's not really a dog). My dogs are part of my family, but they are not my daughter's siblings. Children deserve better than to be treated like dogs, even my dogs.

I love my Children ~ by Tigermom

Don't get me wrong. It has been a long week. The winter break for my kids lasts two full weeks interrupted only by two office days. The laundry and dishes in the sink are endless. There are many minutes to fill and no one else seems to be around to break up the sibling time with playdates.

But reading Mama's recent post and comments reminded me of me in my 20's. One day I was sitting on a bus and watching a woman with her small child. Baby? Toddler? Who remembers. But I do remember the mother having eyes only for her kid. Not in a swooning loving way, but in a watching every detail way. She was adjusting this and noticing that, tending to this, repositioning that. I thought to myself, "I am definitely NOT ready to have kids." I was too interested in looking out the window or thinking about my own next step.

I can tell I am ready now because when I look out the window and think about my next step, it includes stepping out with the kids.

Today, cubs #2 and 3 needed new sneakers. The soles have separated from the rest of the shoe. Cub #1 has boots who are so beat up they are ready to take themselves off her feet and walk away. And we all needed to get out of the house. So off we went, one hour before lunch. Not so smart since someone was bound to complain of hunger soon.

And sure enough, someone did, then another, then all three cubs were whining about being hungry. But I had an agenda. I wanted to hit the bra shop for the first day of their semi-annual sale. It would be the first time ever that I thought of going there so early in the sale and I might have a shot at an on-sale-non-padded bra. With three kids in tow?

We live in a walking town so I had an advantage. We hit a street vendor for three hot dogs as our first stop. No tolerance for busy bra shops without food. Check.

Favorite shoe store on the way with a coupon in my pocket too. So had to stop there. I really went there with the intention of getting cub #1 her boots. No boots for cub #1, but, oh, cute flats for Tigermom. Check.

Oh, favorite gourmet food store? Let's walk through and see if there are any samples. At lunchtime? No way. First strike.

Cross street to bra store. Lots of giggling from cubs #1 and 2, but #3 still chugging along patiently. I put cub #2 on the case to look for my size in one half of the table and I went to work on the other half of the table. Lots of giggling at the fancy and very padded bras that monopolized the table. #2 found 5 of my favorite bras! Check.

Long line. #3 leans in on my to snuggle, but no whining. He looks at me with a smile and tells me, "I don't think they have any underwear for boys here." I agree, not getting into the subtleties of peoples' underwear preferences.

Pizza shop next door. Four slices and four bottles of water. Before anyone asked for food. Check.

Shoe store next stop. Cub #1 and 3 find nothing. Cub #2 works like a shoe guided missile and zeros in on a terrific pair of boots for her. She always finds fantastic deals on the cutest shoes that she usually does not desparately need, but are such a great bargain I can hardly say no. So I said yes. She wore them out of the store. Happy child not complaining about food. Check.

Another shoe store next stop. Send cub #1 down her aisle for boots to replace the ones whose soles are also now separating from the rest. Go with cubs #2 and 3 for their sneakers. Why do everyone's soles separate from the shoes simultaneously? #1 finds nothing, but 2 and 3 get sneakers. Check. Check.

Try two more shoe stores for boots for #1. Strike. Strike.

Walk to holy grail, a pretzel store for well deserved hot pretzels with mustard and processed cheese. Enjoy the conversation about wanting to take a cab home.

Walk to a better block to catch a cab. OMG! What do we see in a store window? The coveted boots are in stock? "Let's go in!" they all gleefully scream. We trudge to the back of the store and there they are, with halos around them, lots of boots. In several sizes. Do you have cub #1's size? Yes! She tries them on. They fit! Like Cinderella ready for the ball, she gleams.

Can I throw out the old boots? Yes! Tigermom gleams! Check!!!!!

Anticipating ~ by Jay

It's been a long weekend. Consults in the hospital, admissions to the hospice house, phone calls at 4:00 AM from people who are anxious or sick or both.

Tomorrow I start four days off. Eve and Sam will be home late in the evening. I have one day to myself. I've taken bits of time here and there - lunch out yesterday, a trip to the bookstore today - but tomorrow there will be no risk of getting beeped back to the hospital, no need to stay close to the fax machine. I could even go out without my cellphone if I wanted to.

There are some things I need to do, and I may do some of them (packing up donated clothing, going to the grocery store) but first on my list are the things I want to do. I'll go to library and wander the stacks for a while. I'll have lunch with a friend. And I have an appointment to get a massage.

I know, you read this blog for incisive commentary and thoughtful analysis, along with spiritual reflection and wry humor. Tonight you get none of that. Just me, tired and looking forward to a day off.

At least I'm not telling you I'm about to walk the dog.

Ooops.

Adjusting ~ by Jay

It's so quiet I can hear the clock ticking.

Eve and Sam are visiting Sam's mom, the dogs are (amazingly enough) lying down peacefully upstairs, and I'm finally home from work. At some point soon I'll get up and reheat some turkey and stuffing for dinner.

As much as I miss them - and I do - it's just amazing how much easier my working Saturday was with them gone. It didn't matter that I had to go back to the hospital and was an hour late getting to the inpatient hospice unit, and I didn't mind staying there longer to see the unexpected third patient who arrived as I was getting ready to leave. In between I managed to take myself out for lunch, do yesterday's Times puzzle (nice one! I may be on BEQ's wavelength for once) and take care of the calls for the practice as well.

This is my first weekend covering the palliative care service in the hospital as well as the hospice, and if this is any indication I will be at work all day whenever I'm on call. I'm glad I had this chance to adjust to the work without having to worry about getting home. It will be a challenge to plan these weekends so I'm not dumping stuff on Sam, to make sure I get some time to spend with Eve even when I'm working and that Sam gets to spend some time alone to recharge. And it will be a challenge to nourish myself when I'm working 12 full days in a row, especially since Monday and Tuesday are my long days in the office. I have a tendency to try and maintain a normal family schedule even when I'm call, which leaves me frantic and pressured and feeling guilty and leaves Sam feeling taken-advantage-of.

For now I'm going to enjoy my quiet evening. I'll do today's crossword, light the Chanukah candles, and put on some music while I eat my dinner. And tomorrow I'll go back to the hospital and the hospice, and then I'll have four days off. Time enough to figure this out.

Prayer, and Wild Geese ~ by Jay

I pray almost every night, when I put Eve to bed. First we sing the sh'ma

Sh'ma Yisroel, Adonai eloheinu, Adonai echad.
Hear, O Israel! Adonai our God, Adonai is one.

and then the ve'ahavta

And you must love the One, your God, with all your heart, with every breath, with all you have. Take these words that I command you now to heart. Teach them intently to your children. Speak them when you sit inside your house or walk upon the road, when you lie down and when you rise. And bind them as a sign upon your hand, and keep them visible before your eyes. Inscribe them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates.

Take these words: love the One, your God.

If I believe that God lives in the best part of myself, than the ve'ahavta commits me to loving myself. Each night as I chant those words I have another opportunity to truly honor my vision of God, to nurture and comfort that spark of holiness that we all harbor.

Love is the oxygen that will nourish that spark. With enough love, the spark can become a glowing ember and perhaps even a flame.

All my life I have depended on the opinions of others. It's as if I can't see myself except as I am reflected in someone's eyes, and their judgment is all that matters. This is a new and frightening idea, the thought that I might love myself, that I might care deeply for that small piece of the divine. I am a vessel that holds the shechinah. I don't have to prove it to anyone else.

Mary Oliver has it right

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting -
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

That is my prayer on this Shabbat: to hear the call, to understand that whatever place I am in is where I need to be. To truly honor God as God lives in me.

Sh'ma Yisroel, Adonai Eloheinu, Adonai echad.

Selah.

Quiet ~ by Jay

It's a quiet day.

Almost no traffic. Empty parking lots as I pass the mall. Fewer signs are lit tonight; more of the streets are dark and silent than usual.

I spent two hours in the hospital and didn't hear a page overhead, or an alarm bell, or a cellphone.

My own pager has been remarkably calm (don't tell, might jinx it).

Today I spent six hours at work, driving between the hospital and the hospice house, then back to the hospital, then back to the hospice house after dinner. I took Eve to the pool and we welcomed friends for dinner. And it was still a day of quiet, a day of rest.

A day of peace.

Please Keep The Christ in Christmas ~ by Jay

But it's just a secular holiday, now, anyway.

We don't go to church - it's only Santa and presents. There's nothing religious about that, is there?

Christmas is an American holiday, and we're all American.

There were Druids decorating trees hundreds of years before Christ was born. You shouldn't be offended by a pagan holiday, especially since Chanukah started out as a pagan holiday, too. Stop being so oversensitive.

Yes, I understand the roots of Christmas. I know Jesus wasn't actually born on December 25th and that Santa Claus has nothing to do with Midnight Mass. I know that lots of people consider themselves areligious and still put up lights and trees and inflatable snowmen. That's not the point. Sukkot started as a pagan harvest festival, too, but I don't expect my Catholic neighbors to erect a booth in their backyard every October.

I know that the decorated house and indoor tree and red velvet bows didn't catch on until the Victorian era. I know the Puritans didn't approve of Christmas observance. And I know that many of my religious Christian friends are as uncomfortable as I am with the current American incarnation of the yuletide season.

None of that makes me comfortable with a Christmas tree in my living room. Holidays are what we make of them, and this one has been Christian for over a thousand years. That's long enough to make it definitively Not Mine. And even if I could get past the image of the creche that always appears in my mind next to the tree, I don't want to celebrate the capitalist Christmas. I don't need a reason to foster acquisitiveness. I'm not interested in worshiping at the altar of consumerism, either.

Some Jews don't celebrate Thanksgiving because they believe we should reserve our true joy for the Jewish holidays. Our obligation to honor God with our full selves is a higher obligation than expressing our connection to American culture. I'm a Reconstructionist Jew, and I see myself living fully in two civilizations. I can wholeheartedly participate in Thanksgiving (ironic, considering that it started as a Christian day of prayer) without compromising my sense of Jewish identity.

When Christmas is a Christian holiday, it is celebrated in homes and churches and parochial schools. Ministers and priests speak to their congregations of the deep meaning of sacrifice, of peace. Birth and mystery are celebrated and the light of faith is kindled. When Christmas is a Christian observance, it's about something deeper and truer than DVDs and iPods and sales on cashmere sweaters. And no one expects me to participate.

I don't much care for the commodification of Jewish holidays, either (Ten Plagues chocolate figures? WTF?). I'm not trying to force religious observance on anyone. If you're not religious, that's cool. If you want to dance in the woods at solstice, go for it. But let's keep the religion in religious holidays, and the capitalism down to a dull roar.

Things I Could Do Without: Old Not-Quite-Friends Edition ~ by Jay

'tis the season for holiday cards. We don't send them, but amazingly enough we still receive them. Each day the mail fills me with awe - I know people who are this organized! They can send cards on time every year! How do they do that? Pictures of people's kids and dogs and carefully selected non-denominational festive objects fill our sideboard at the moment. The envelopes, of course, should go in the recycling. One of the envelopes is at the moment sitting here annoying me instead.

Today's enveopes have the usual potpourri of names: Sam Hislastname and Jay Herlastname; The Hislastname/Herlastname Family; Sam, Jay and Eve Histlastname-Herlastname. But one is addressed to Sam and Jay Hislastname. Not all Sam's coworkers know I kept my name. Not all Eve's classmates know, either. If this envelope came from one of those families, it wouldn't bother me at all. It doesn't. The sticker in the corner tells me it comes from two of Sam's oldest friends, a couple we knew when they were all in graduate school together.

This is the woman who met me for the first time shortly after our engagement and told me marriage was a patriarchal institution and no feminist should get married. This is the woman who, several years later, told me that I didn't understand her experience as a women in science because I was working "in a traditionally female field". This is the woman who scoffed at the idea of having children because it would distract from "real work". This is the woman who made fun of Sam for talking on the phone with me for hours when we lived 3,000 miles apart and who told me that needing to talk to him every day was a sign of dependence.

This is the same woman who married one of her grad school housemates right after graduation, changed her name, took a technician position instead of an academic job because they needed to move for his job, and now raises show dogs for a living. This is the woman who judged me as insufficiently feminist, and who sends a card to us every year under Sam's name.

Methinks one dost protest too much. But I'm not judging.

Making Ourselves Visible ~ by Jay

I love how ideas move around the blogosphere, touching off responses and tangents and circling back toward each other. dr at Writing Maternity referenced my first Chanukah post, and she wrote something that got me thinking...

Hanukah is a challenge in the ways that all Jewish holidays are a challenge for a highly secularized Jew living in a secularized Christian culture: our calendars create time for Christian holidays (although I'll admit that Easter week for Catholics is the exception to this), but they don't for Jewish (or Muslim or Hindu or Buddhist or ...) holidays. And so you have to actively carve out time to celebrate those, which in turn requires making them deeply important.

Actively carve out time. Yes. Precisely.

I grew up in the New York City suburbs and attended a public school where over half the kids were Jewish. The whole district shut down on the High Holidays, and no teacher would dare give a test the first day of Pesach. It was a rude awakening to look at the syllabus for Biology my first semester in college and see the first hourly exam scheduled on Yom Kippur. The only available alternate time? Smack in the middle of Kol Nidre services, the evening before. I took the test as originally scheduled.

That was the first time I had to make a decision about how to be Jewish, and how to balance being Jewish with the other parts of my life. I was a pretty secularized Jew in those days, although I usually attended High Holiday services and avoided eating bread during Pesach. There was something not-quite-right about refusing to go to class on Rosh Hashanah and then just sitting in my dorm room. I was demanding recognition - for what? For an extra day off? What did it mean to say I was a Jew?

Once I moved to California for residency it got even worse. There were no easily accessible liberal services and I didn't have any Jewish friends; I just worked when I was scheduled to. Once I managed to get back to New York for Yom Kippur with my parents, and Sam and I hosted a Passover seder every year - except when I did my ICU rotation at another hospital, they refused to divulge the call schedule in advance and we couldn't plan anything, because Pesach started the evening of the first day of the rotation. Turned out I wasn't on call, so Sam made a seder while I was at work and it was just the two of us. I cried through most of the meal.

Being Jewish alone was isolating and depressing. We joined our shul because I was looking for community, and we were blessed to find a loving and supportive community within my own tradition. I have gradually become a less secularized Jew. I chant Torah and lead services. We observe two days of Rosh Hashanah, spend the whole day at shul on Yom Kippur, remove the chametz from our house before Pesach and send Eve to religious school, where she's learning Hebrew.

I sought Jewish community because it felt safe and welcoming, and I need community the way I need air and water. I think - I thought - that I've sought out increased observance because it gives order and meaning and perspective to my life. Reading dr's post, I realize I've also taken on my observance to justify making my Judaism visible, to rationalize the extra days off from work and my objections to Christmas programming in Eve's school. If we have Sukkot and Simchat Torah and Purim (and of course Chanukah), then it's not so bad to deprive my daughter of Christmas and Santa Claus. I am, as she says, making this deeply important.

Tonight is the third candle of Chanukah, and I will be at work when Sam and Eve chant the blessings and Eve opens the next batch of her stack of gifts - she hasn't even touched the ones from her grandparents and her cousins yet. I don't take off work for Chanukah, and now I see that this is my way of keeping that minor holiday in its place even when custom blows it up out of all proportion. But I remain visible, and each year I learn more about myself and my steps in this complex dance.

Chanukah sameach.

It Was 24 Years Ago Today ~ by Jay

I married Sam because he was smart and funny and cute and thoughtful and considerate, and it seemed a miracle that he wanted me.

He has turned out to be all that, and more courageous and spiritual and loving than I could have imagined.

As of this moment, we have been married half our lives. Our relationship is the rock on which I stand and the shelter to which I return. It is the steadiness beneath the chaos of my days and the warmth of my nights.

We have grown up together. As we created this marriage, we also created (and re-created) ourselves. That doesn't mean I change to please Sam, or vice versa. It means that I try to be my best self, my most authentic self, when I am with him, and to give him my full presence. We don't always achieve this, but the moments when we do keep me going the rest of the time.

Happy Anniversary, my love. Here's to the second half.

One For Each Night ~ by Jay

You may have noticed my little spate of posting activity over the past few days. My goal is to post at least once a day for the eight days of Chanukah. If I'd only stored and scheduled some of those posts yesterday...but I hadn't had the idea yet!

Now I've committed myself to something. I don't promise eight Chanukah-themed posts. I'm open to ideas and suggestions. While you're thinking, watch this guy make Chanukah music look cool. Dig the hat.

Things I Could Do Without, Fast Food Advertising Edition ~ by Jay

The chicken cordon bleu ad.

Are you kidding me?

And yes, it's real; a friend of mine who lives near here saw it on TV over the weekend.

Second Candle, or I Am The Grinch ~ by Jay

Tonight was just the three of us, at home. Nothing traditional for dinner (I'm quite sure that tacos don't count as any culture's festive Chanukah meal). We each lit our menorah and then Eve opened her "big" presents: a new American Girl doll (Julie, about whom more will be said) and matching girl-and-doll pajamas.

And then disaster struck. She went upstairs to do Julie's hair and returned in tears. The special bag into which she'd put all her American Girl hair-doing-equipment is nowhere to be found. This discovery, of course, was not made until nearly bedtime. A brief recon did not turn it up, and Mommy decided to suspend search-and-rescue efforts until daylight (at least). Mommy was somewhat surprised that this edict was accepted and we moved on to teeth-brushing and stories (by the way, the Nancy Drew and The Clue Crew books are really, really bad).

It was about ten minutes after I tucked her in that the dogs erupted into barking and jumping chaos. I heard music coming from somewhere outside - and it's really, really cold outside - but couldn't figure out where. Eve emerged from her bedroom and said, sadly "It's a Christmas party". Once she was reinserted in her bed, I went downstairs and corralled the dogs. This maneuver had to be repeated three or four times, and the final time they were banging against the front door - where a group of carolers was headed up our walk.

In theory, I love the idea of carolers, especially teenaged carolers. Such a sweet, generous, musical thing to do. They might have been collecting money for a good cause, and even if they weren't, I wish I had it in me to welcome them warmly. But what I had was two large, barking dogs straining at their leashes and a child upstairs who feels left out of Christmas, and I waved them off without opening the door.

It's quiet now. Eve is asleep, the dogs are waiting somewhat warily for Sam to return from his meeting, and I'm about to make myself a cup of tea. The Chanukah candles have burned down and the dishes are done. Another day of negotiating life as a Jew in the US is coming to an end.

Conversation With the Patriarchy, 1998 ~ by Jay

You see, when some women enter their forties, their vision begins to change.

I'm 38.

Oh. Um, well, anyway, what happens is that the shape of the eye changes and makes it more difficult to see objects that are closer to you.

You're telling me I need bifocals.

Well, yes, and I know that often bothers women, but no one needs to know. You can get progressive lenses - the ones without the lines.

Is there any difference in how the lenses work compared to regular bifocals?

You'd have some limitation of your peripheral vision with the near-focus lens.

Is it enough to matter?

It doesn't usually matter to women, because it's fine for reading or sewing.

When I sew, it's usually on people.

Middle-Aged And On Facebook ~ by Jay

So our rabbi told me tonight that she's signed up for Facebook and feels a bit unsure of the whole thing. I figure I'll friend her; that's the point, right? Do a search on her name - too many hits, none of which are identifiably her. Then I run the Email Friend Finder and discover that lots and lots of people I know have joined Facebook since the last time I ran it.

I found - and friended - the rabbi, and then I looked at the list and considered. Do I really want to be more connected to him? No. What about the woman I know slightly from the JCC? Sure, why not - she seems nice. The hospice nurse I work with? Hmm. I like her, but that seems like stepping over a line I don't want to cross. No. My sister-in-law - THAT should be interesting.

I've found a few high school friends on Facebook, and it's been fun to check out how they ended up (didn't we all really know he was gay? but she's living WHERE?). I also enjoy feel more connected to the folks I don't see very often - close friends from college that live in Europe, or people I run into at every five years and wish I knew better. There's an eavesdropping quality to the site. I read what my friends write about their friends, even the ones I don't know, and that odd one-sided conversation is compelling.

I know that the presence of someone like me on Facebook is a sure sign that Facebook is Over, and that even considering who I should friend tags me as hopelessly Old and Out Of It. But here I am, using "friend" as a verb without even thinking twice (OK, without stopping when I think twice) and enjoying myself. If that makes Facebook one big kaffeeklatsch, well, so be it.

Light Those Lights ~ by Jay

Baruch atah adonai, elohenu melech ha'olam, asher kid'shanu b'mitzvotav, vitzivanu l'hadlich ner shel Chanukah.

Blessed are You, Ruler of the Universe, who has sanctified us by Your commandments and who commands us to kindle the lights of Chanukah.

I don't much care for any of the versions of the Chanukah story. Not the brave-Maccabees-repel-the evil-Assyrians version I learned as a kid, not the Maccabees-were-really-fighting-Hellenized-Jews version I was told in college, certainly not the Maccabees-were-trying-to-avoid-taxes-because-they-are-stingy-Jews version that is making the rounds today. We weren't a dreidl-playing family and my mother's latkes (which I think came from a mix) weren't all that good. I don't like the grasping gimme-gimme-gimme attitude this holiday evokes in my daughter. So why do I love Chanukah?

I loved it when I was a kid. I grew up without Shabbat candles, and Pesach and Rosh Hashanah were big, formal dinners with large white candles in the middle of the table, lit before we arrived and snuffed with a silver candle-snuffer after we finished eating. Chanukah candles were kid-sized and kid-colored, twisted sticks of yellow and red and blue that we got to hold and light. They stood on the kitchen counter and filled the room with that singed-wick, hot-wax smell. We watched them burn all the way down. The Chanukah blessing was the only blessing I learned as a child, with the result that I usually sing the Shabbat candle blessing to the Chanukah tune.

Tonight we had our Chanukah party at shul. Each family brings at least one menorah, and we light them together on one long table. The kids chase each other around the room while the adults are astonished at how big they're all getting - the babies are now toddlers, the toddlers are long-legged ten-year-olds, the school-age kids are tall 17-year-olds holding hands with their boyfriends and girlfriends. On the darkest day of the year we light our candles and raise our voices and marvel at the connections in our family and community.

Baruch atah adonai elohenu melech ha'olam, shehechianu vekimanu vehigianu lazman hazeh.

Blessed are You, Ruler of the Universe, who has kept us alive, and sustained us, and brought us to this day.

Gifts ~ by Jay

What makes a good gift? Miss Conduct is soliciting opinions.

Got me thinking about gifts, and giving, and Sam.

The first gift Sam ever gave me was a box of chocolates. It was Valentine's Day, about a month after we started dating. Doesn't sound like much, but it was. I was the fat girl, remember; no one had ever given me a gift of candy before. I'd had boyfriends, but you don't give a fat girl more food. It was a small white box with hand-dipped candies from our favorite ice cream/candy store, and it made me cry.

The next gift was a rose. One rose. It was graduation day. I'd been a little disappointed the night before, at the Prom; most of my friends had corsages but I did not. Sam was late meeting me before the ceremony and no one knew where he was. Turns out he was running to the florist to buy me a rose to carry in the procession.

Sam and I grew up with different gift-giving traditions. His family makes lists. I hate lists; they feel too much like orders. I love shopping for and choosing (and receiving!) one special surprise. Sam hates surprises. Why risk giving something the recipient might not like? Years ago, we stopped giving each other individual gifts on Chanukah and our birthdays. We plan a special evening for our anniversary and often collaborate on a big joint gift like a fancy camera or some other indulgence.

Last year we realized that because we didn't buy Chanukah presents for each other, Eve wasn't buying presents for us, either, and every present that came in the house was for her. This was not the lesson we had in mind. So we started two little conspiracies, and Eve loves it. I love it. Sam tolerates it.

Every now and then, though, on a big anniversary or a major birthday, Sam does something wonderful. As I type, I'm glancing at the ruby-and-diamond ring on my right hand and the gold band on my left. Both were anniversary presents.

The wedding band replaced the one my grandmother made (yes, made) for us when we were married. It's inscribed with a Hebrew verse from Song of Songs that translates as "I have found the one that my heart loves".

So have I, even if he doesn't love surprises.

Conversations with Patients ~ by Jay

I see you have some tattoos.

Sure. There's my name on this arm, and the Chinese character for "integrity" on the other arm, and I have a Mickey Mouse on my ankle. Next week I'm getting Batman over my right shoulder blade.

All done professionally?

Yeah. There's this really cool dude downtown who does them - all his stuff is clean.

Thanks for explaining. I'll be interested to see Batman at your next visit.

Cool. We done here?

Well, I looked over your immunization history and you're due for a tetanus shot.

No.

No?

I hate needles.

In The Locker Room, A Play In One Very Short Act ~ by Jay

Dramatis Personae:

Eve's Mommy (EM)
Eve (E)
Eve's Swim Team Friend (STF)

Setting: The locker room after swim team practice

STF: I took longer than Eve in the shower because I had to wash my hair.

EM: Eve wanted to wash hers, too, but I asked her to skip it today because we have to get home. Mean Mommy strikes again.

STF: Oh, that's not very mean.

E: I keep telling you and Daddy that you're not the meanest parents in the world.

STF(earnestly): Really, you're not. There are lots of meaner and stricter parents out there.

EM: Well, I guess I'd better start taking notes. What do they do that makes them meaner and stricter than me?

STF: They....well, they don't let you do stuff. Perfectly normal stuff, but they won't let you.

E: Like they don't let you jump on your bed.

STF: Oh, that's not very strict. It's other stuff. Like...your bedtime is just so early that you can't do anything at all and they won't change it. Stuff like that. See, you're really not that strict.

EM: I guess I have to keep trying, then.

E: Mommy, you do not.

Things I Could Do Without, Comic Strip Edition ~ by Jay

"When the devil is too busy to bug a man, he sends a woman" - Langston Hughes.

You're Not Going to Tell My Mom, Are You? ~ by Jay

When I have my first office visit with a kid under 18, I have a little speech I deliver right before I ask the parent to leave the room.

I want to make sure we all have the same understanding about this relationship. I don't know how things worked with your pediatrician, but I believe my primary responsibility is to have a relationship with you directly, not your parents. What that means is that I won't ever tell your parents stuff behind your back, and the only time I'd tell them something without your permission is if I believe your life is in danger. You'll still know I'm telling them. I want to make sure your mom/dad hears me say this because not all parents are comfortable with this approach. What do you think?

The kid never says anything. Response from parents range from "That's what I want; s/he needs to be able to come to you in private" through "Well, I guess that's OK" to "Um, I think we need to find another doctor".

Then I ask the parent to go sit in the waiting room and I launch into the real interview.

15 years ago, one of my partners heard about my little speech and laughed. "You'll change your mind", he said, "when you have children yourself". I remember him when I read the comments on this piece in the New York Times last week. Perri Klass* has been writing for the Times since she was in medical school. She's a pediatrician now, with kids of her own, and she doesn't always tell the parents, either. Some of her commenters object. The parents are entitled, they say, to know everything about their children. "As long as my children reside under my roof and are my legal responsibility, they should have no expectation of privacy."

No expectation of privacy. Wow. I'm glad I was raised by my parents, and not that commenter.

None of you will be surprised that I did not change my opinion when I became a parent. My kid, like every other kid, is a person, not a piece of property. I expect her to have privacy. When she's in middle school, I'll take her to the doctor and make sure we all agree about that. I already know what I'm going to say.

Shabbat Shalom ~ by Jay

The wine is waiting to be poured. The challah is content under its cloth. Dinner smells lovely in the oven, and the house is quiet.

Time to let go of the anxiety about work, the grief over various deaths, the worry about fund-raising, the general economic distress, and the onslaught of consumerism and Christmas. Time to light the candles, bless my daughter, and receive the extra soul of Shabbat.

Hashkivenu, hashkivenu, Adonai, elohenu
L'shalom vehamidenu, malkenu, l'chayim.

Cause us to lie down, Adonai our God, in peace
and help us, Ruler, to rise up for life.

Conversations with the Patriarchy ~by MPJ

"Hi, I'd like to have someone come out and do an estimate for a bathroom renovation."

"Are you married?"

"Um, yes."

"Well, then we'll have to set up a time when your husband can be there."

"I'm actually handling all the details of this renovation, and it's not convenient for us to have both of meet with a contractor just for an initial interview and estimate like this."

"But it's very important that your husband be there too."

"Why?"

"Well, the contractor is going to be going over a lot of numbers. These figures can get complicated you know."

"You know what, I'm going to move on to the next contractor on the list. Thanks for your time."

Conversations With The Patriarchy, Guest Submission ~ by Jay

A friend writes:

There must be something wrong. I've been having this pain every few months for the past year. It's really excruciating; the week before my period I can hardly get out of bed.

Your exam is normal, your periods are regular and you're not pregnant.

So what are you saying?

I'm saying, honey, that you're putting a lot of pressure on yourself at Fancypants University. Some girls just can't manage that kind of work. If you went back home to your parents, relaxed, got married and got yourself pregnant, all this would go away.

Well, This Is New ~ by Jay

I just received a notification from Facebook. I have a message from someone I don't know. Turns out the messager is the grandson of one of my elderly patients who wanted me to know what Grandpa isn't telling me about how he takes his medication.

Ah, progress.

Three Women Meming ~by MPJ

I thought maybe all three of the two women could do the meme that Tigermom and Jay did.

1) Five names you go by

a) MPJ
b) Mary
c) Mama
d) My real life name
e) "That white chick"

2) Three things you are wearing right now

a) Long sleeved teal cotton t-shirt
b) Sandy brown organic hemp and cotton skirt (my favorite)
c) Underwear

3) Two things you want very badly at the moment:

a) sleep
b) a shower
(I'm a mama who is easy to please!)

4) Three people who I would like to see fill this out:

Anyone who would enjoy it

5) Two things you did last night

a) chatted at The Second Road
b) stayed up until 1:30 a.m. writing a post for my blog, then was awakened at 2:10 a.m. by my daughter calling for me. She went right back to sleep. Me, not so much.

6) Two things you ate today

a) a bagel with cream cheese
b) tortilla chips

7) Two people you last talked to on the phone

a) Another blogger, but since she's even more cautious about her anonymity than I am with mine, I won't say who she is!
b) my husband

8) Two things you are going to do tomorrow

a) Yoga
b) Try to clean up the house a bit in preparation for holiday guests

9) Two longest car rides (I decided to answer in time rather than distance!)

a) It once took me something like 8 hours to drive 40 miles when a big rig turned over on the highway.
b) I once spent something like 15 hours making a 5 hour drive in holiday traffic.

10) Two of your favorite drinks

a) Coke
b) Um, Coke

And finally....bold the ones you've done, unbold the ones you have not done.

I have....

1. Started my own blog
2. Slept under the stars
3. Played in a band (does high school band count?)
4. Visited Hawaii
5. Watched a meteor shower
6. Given more than I can afford to charity
7. Been to Disneyland/world
8. Climbed a mountain
9. Held a praying mantis
10. Sung a solo
11. Bungee jumped
12. Visited Paris
13. Watched lightning at sea (that's odd, but I don't think I have)
14. Taught myself an art from scratch (I'm not sure what that means, but I've taught myself lots, so I'll go with yes.)
15. Adopted a child
16. Had food poisoning (it made me never want to eat again)
17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty
18. Grown my own vegetables (well, not by myself, but with Sam)
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France
20. Slept on an overnight train
21. Had a pillow fight
22. Hitchhiked
23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill (they're called "mental health days")
24. Built a snow fort
25. Held a lamb
26. Gone skinny dipping
27. Skied a marathon
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice
29. Seen a total eclipse
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset
31. Hit a home run
32. Been on a cruise
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person
34. Visited the birthplace of my ancestors
35. Seen an Amish community
36. Taught myself a new language (Learned, yes. Taught myself, no.)
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person
39. Gone rock climbing
40. Seen Michelangelo’s David
41. Sung karaoke
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt
43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant
44. Visited Africa
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight
46. Been transported in an ambulance
47. Had my portrait painted
48. Gone deep sea fishing
49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling
52. Kissed in the rain (I'm sure I must have, but I don't have any specific memory)
53. Played in the mud
54. Gone to a drive-in theater
55. Been in a movie
56. Visited the Great Wall of China
57. Started a business
58. Taken a martial arts class
59. Visited Russia
60. Served at a soup kitchen
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies
62. Gone whale watching
63. Got flowers for no reason
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma
65. Gone sky diving
66. Visited a Nazi concentration camp
67. Bounced a check
68. Flown in a helicopter
69. Saved a favorite childhood toy
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial
71. Eaten caviar
72. Pieced a quilt
73. Stood in Times Square
74. Toured the Everglades
75. Been fired from a job
76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London
77. Broken a bone
78. Been on a speeding motorcycle
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person
80. Published a book
81. Visited the Vatican
82. Bought a brand new car
83. Walked in Jerusalem
84. Had my picture in the newspaper
85. Read the entire Bible
86. Visited the White House
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating (fish count, right?)
88. Had chickenpox
89. Saved someone’s life
90. Sat on a jury
91. Met someone famous
92. Joined a book club
93. Lost a loved one
94. Had a baby
95. Seen the Alamo in person
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake
97. Been involved in a law suit
98. Owned a cell phone
99. Been stung by a bee
100. Ridden an elephant

You know, the only one of those that I haven't done but have any interest in doing at all is publish a book.

Booze and Babes ~ by Jay

Jessica has a post up at Feministing responding to a New York Magazine article about women and alcohol. I haven't read the New York piece because I suspect it would make my head explode and I'm not the mood. According to Jessica, the original piece blames feminism for increased alcohol use by women (that's assuming you accept Sex and the City and Girls Gone Wild as evidence of feminist empowerment). I loved Jessica's takedown of that assertion, but I think she's wrong about one thing. She says " I don't doubt the statistics about women drinking more than in years past". Well, I do. Doubt the statistics, that is.

We used to teach that addiction affects 20% of men and 10% of women. Some of us wondered about that, since of of the diagnostic criteria we were using was loss of role function, especially work role function, and the studies we were citing didn't include a lot of women with paying jobs outside the home. And some of us wondered about the higher rate of tranquilizer use by women and the increase in diagnosis of anxiety and depression; maybe some of those men were treating their affective illnesses with alcohol and the women were using Miltown (or Quaaludes or Xanax, depending on the generation). Mick Jagger wasn't the only one who noticed mother's little helper.

The old numbers probably underestimate the incidence of alcoholism in women, but I wouldn't be surprised if binge drinking and drunkenness have increased in women, as they have in men. Binge drinking and drunkenness are not the same as alcoholism; they are hallmarks of alcohol abuse, not addiction. Many alcoholics are binge drinkers, but not all; most binge drinkers are not alcoholics. Addiction is defined by loss of control and continuing the behavior despite the recognition of adverse consequences. Not all binge drinkers have adverse consequences, and not all have lost control, despite appearances.

I suspect that binge drinking is more socially acceptable in women than it used to be, but I don't blame feminism for the increase. I blame the higher drinking age. When we raised the drinking age to 21, we didn't stop 20-year-olds from drinking. We just drove it underground and gave parents and college adminstrators no choice but to ban alcohol use entirely instead of regulating it. That's a huge waste of resources on a hopeless cause. Prohibition doesn't work, remember? It doesn't work on adolescents any better than it worked on adults.

College presidents and chancellors are working to lower the drinking age through the Amethyst Intitiative. These are the people who have to deal with the results of the current law, and we should listen to them. Binge drinking is bad for everyone, not just women.

Meme, I'll bite. ~ by Tigermom

But only because I want to expose myself, a little, in solidarity with Mama at The Elmo Wallpaper. This is a little like a striptease.

1) Five names you go by

a) Tigermom
b) My real name
c) My shortened real name, also part of a famous song
d) Dr. Tigermom
e) Mommy

2) Three things you are wearing right now

a) A grey turtleneck
b) A wooly navy blue cardigan
c) My favorite, softest, most comfy jeans
d) Nice warm boots

3) Two things you want very badly at the moment

a) an end to my upper respiratory infection
b) a renovated kitchen that is free and requires no effort or inconvenience from me

4) Three people who I would like to see fill this out:

Anyone who would enjoy it

5) Two things you did last night

a) cooked a delicious brussel sprouts dish and a cherry cobbler made with fresh cherries (Tigerdad cooked the main course)
b) went to bed at 7:30 PM

6) Two things you ate today

a) leftover Tigerdad main course
b) leftover brussel sprouts; the kids opted for none in their lunches

7) Two people you last talked to on the phone

a) someone looking for a referral for friend of theirs
b) I left a message for a good friend

8) Two things you are going to do tomorrow

a) See patients for seven hours
b) Try AGAIN to connect my wireless capable printer to our work network (I am my IT department)

9) Two longest car rides

a) I prefer the train.

10) Two of your favorite drinks

a) room temperature water
b) Fresca

Another Meme ~ by Jay

From Kat.

1) Five names you go by

a) Jay
b) My real name
c) The nickname my choir teacher gave me in high school
d) Dr. Jay
e) Mommy

2) Three things you are wearing right now

a) A pink fleece hoodie
b) A purple turtleneck
c) New waterproof clogs

3) Two things you want very badly at the moment

a) Chocolate
b) To renovate my master bathroom

4) Three people who I would like to see fill this out:

Anyone who would enjoy it

5) Two things you did last night

a) The New York Times Double-Crostic
b) Baked brownies for the Hospice Service of Remembrance

6) Two things you ate today

a) A bowl of Rice Krispies
b) Green chicken (chicken with tomatillos and rice)

7) Two people you last talked to on the phone

a) My friend who is sitting by his dying father's bedside in Chicago
b) My friend who is moving this week and will come through here en route and meet me for breakfast! Yay!

8) Two things you are going to do tomorrow

a) See patients for seven hours
b) Move my charts and paraphernalia back to the main office, where the renovation is now complete

9) Two longest car rides

a) New York to Florida
b) California to New York (we did that one or the reverse five times, total)

10) Two of your favorite drinks

a) Thai iced tea
b) Really good homemade lemonade

And finally....bold the ones you've done, unbold the ones you have not done.

I have....

1. Started my own blog (should be half-bold because Mary really started it)
2. Slept under the stars
3. Played in a band (well, sang, but I'm counting it)
4. Visited Hawaii
5. Watched a meteor shower
6. Given more than I can afford to charity
7. Been to Disneyland/world
8. Climbed a mountain
9. Held a praying mantis
10. Sung a solo
11. Bungee jumped (ain't gonna happen)
12. Visited Paris
13. Watched lightning at sea
14. Taught myself an art from scratch
15. Adopted a child
16. Had food poisoning
17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty
18. Grown my own vegetables (well, not by myself, but with Sam)
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France
20. Slept on an overnight train
21. Had a pillow fight
22. Hitchhiked
23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill
24. Built a snow fort
25. Held a lamb
26. Gone skinny dipping
27. Skied a marathon
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice
29. Seen a total eclipse
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset
31. Hit a home run
32. Been on a cruise
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person
34. Visited the birthplace of my ancestors (neither Israel or Eastern Europe)
35. Seen an Amish community
36. Taught myself a new language
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person
39. Gone rock climbing
40. Seen Michelangelo’s David
41. Sung karaoke
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt
43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant
44. Visited Africa
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight
46. Been transported in an ambulance
47. Had my portrait painted
48. Gone deep sea fishing
49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling (snorkeling. Would LOVE to scuba but ears won't allow it)
52. Kissed in the rain (and under a waterfall. Highly recommended)
53. Played in the mud
54. Gone to a drive-in theater
55. Been in a movie
56. Visited the Great Wall of China
57. Started a business
58. Taken a martial arts class
59. Visited Russia
60. Served at a soup kitchen
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies
62. Gone whale watching
63. Got flowers for no reason
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma
65. Gone sky diving
66. Visited a Nazi concentration camp
67. Bounced a check (it wasn't my fault, really)
68. Flown in a helicopter
69. Saved a favorite childhood toy
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial
71. Eaten caviar (and may I say ick?)
72. Pieced a quilt
73. Stood in Times Square
74. Toured the Everglades
75. Been fired from a job
76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London
77. Broken a bone
78. Been on a speeding motorcycle (not happening, either)
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person (rafted down it. Also highly recommended)
80. Published a book
81. Visited the Vatican
82. Bought a brand new car
83. Walked in Jerusalem
84. Had my picture in the newspaper
85. Read the entire Bible
86. Visited the White House
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating
88. Had chickenpox
89. Saved someone’s life
90. Sat on a jury
91. Met someone famous
92. Joined a book club
93. Lost a loved one
94. Had a baby
95. Seen the Alamo in person
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake
97. Been involved in a law suit (knock on wood)
98. Owned a cell phone
99. Been stung by a bee
100. Ridden an elephant (at the Bronx Zoo, when I was about six, but it was a real elephant and I was really riding it)

Conversations With the Patriarchy, 1992 ~ by Jay

I'm calling to ask about your rates on 30-year fixed mortgages.

Would you and your husband like to come in for a meeting?

No, I'd like to know your rates.

Well, it's kind of complicated.

I think I can manage.

OK, then. Now, when your husband asked you to make these calls, he probably didn't tell you there were different kinds of mortgages.

Conversation With the Patriarchy, c. 1991 ~ by Jay

Come in, come in! What can I do for you?

We've just moved to the area and we need car insurance.

Well, Mr. Sam, I'm glad you're sitting next to the desk. That's the chair for the one who's making the money.

Would you like to talk to the person who owns the car?

What's that, honey?

It's my car.

Oh, it's in both your names?

No, it's my car. The title is in my name.

Well, um, OK. All I need is your previous insurance card and Mr. Sam's employment information.

What about my employment information?

What?

Do you need to know about my job?

You have a paying job?

Yes. That's legal for women now.

Oh, honey, don't take it that way. I have a daughter myself and her husband lets her work, too.

Book Club ~by Tigermom

I love to read. Lowbrow stuff.

I love to read craigslist, House Beautiful, People magazine, my favorite blogs, and the daily comics.

A friend invited me into a book club this year. I was so excited, but also a little nervous. I should read real stuff. But I feel like a slow reader. I need to reread whole paragraphs because my mind will wander the first time or times I read them. I feel unintellectual, especially compared to Tigerdad and to my oldest Tigercub, both of whom can sit and read for hours big thick novels. Now I went to a fancy college and even medical school, but always chalked my admissions up to my great people skills and high emotional intelligence which balanced out the other issues.

I really enjoy the book club and the members are from varied educational and social backgrounds and the discussions are fun, insightful, and not at all snobby. But I find I mostly listen and do not always have words to attach to my thoughts about the books.

But tonight I had the best book club I have ever attended. Ever.

Tonight at dinner, with my three cubs, we discussed a book we had all read and loved and that I had finished reading aloud to cub #3 this morning. We talked about the surprising ending, how the book differed from the movie we had all seen, what we thought about the characters and their names. Did characters added to the movie add to the story or not? What must life have been like for the characters? Could what happened to them ever happen to us?

Cub #3 cried tonight when we headed up to bed too late to start in on The Sequel. Fell to the floor collapsed in tears this literature moved him so.

Now that is a book club.

Get A Life ~ by Jay

By now you've probably heard what PA governor Ed Rendell said about AZ governor Janet Napolitano. Unfortunately for Ed, he said it near an open microphone and now everyone knows that he thinks Napolitano is perfect for her new job as Secretary of Homeland Security since "she has no life".

Rendell has denied that this was sexist and apparently Arianna Huffington agrees with him. I do wish she'd explained her reasoning. I don't remember anyone suggesting that Tom Ridge was unsuited for the job because he had school-age children at the time he was appointed (score another one for Pennsylvania). For the record, the comment is sexist because it assumes that mothering engages women in a way fathering doesn't engage men, and that mothering can't co-exist with having a real job.

The sexism, honestly, doesn't surprise me - not from the man who once suggested to a reporter that she do a striptease for him. And it doesn't even enrage me. I'm too tired for that. I find it more annoying to hear, once again, that a woman who doesn't have a husband or children has "no life". Apparently doing things on your own or with friends doesn't count as "having a life".

I was 39 when Eve was born. I'd been out of residency for 10 years, and I was the one who was always available to trade call or move my schedule around to accomodate my partners and their kids. At first I didn't mind, but then it became clear that my commitments didn't count. If I had plans with Sam, or choir rehearsal, or a synagogue board meeting, well, why shouldn't I cancel them? After all, none of those things is as important as family obligations. I remember sitting in a meeting saying "Just because I don't have kids doesn't mean I don't have a family". But I kept acquiescing. In the end, I had to become a parent before I could honor my own need for balance in my life.

Women are socialized to put others first and men to put work first. Very few of us are given the tools to put ourselves first, to meet our own needs. I have a hard time even figuring out what those needs are, some days. It's such an effort, and it feels like self-indulgence to make that effort when I could be doing something else, like writing notes or cleaning the dining room or doing the dishes or folding the laundry or....

There is so much wrong with this picture: the idea that work is and should be all-consuming; the belief that the only real families are families with children; the idea that women with children can't hold high-level jobs. Huffington gets a piece of it, but she doesn't tackle the whole thing. It's not enough to say that we need to step back from work to refresh and renew. We need to know who we are and what we need before we even go to work, and we need to know how to sustain ourselves once we're there. We need to do it not just because it will make us better workers, but because it will help us live the lives we want to live. Then we will all "have a life".

I Have No Words ~ by Jay

I tried to write a post for World AIDS Day.

I tried to write about my cousin, who had this odd febrile illness in about 1979.

I tried to write about the first patient I saw with AIDS in 1983, when we went into the room with haz/mat suits on and stood around his bed, staring at him from behind our goggles. I remember thinking that this man was going to die without ever again feeling the touch of someone else's skin.

I tried to write about my friend, the one who called to tell me that his partner was HIV positive six hours after my mother called to tell me my cousin had died. That night, and for a week or so afterwards, I dreamed that I was working in the ER with people bleeding all around me, and I had a suture set and a scalpel but I didn't have any hands.

I tried to write about the surgeon who presented a patient at a case conference and when asked if the patient was HIV+ replied "No, he was a good guy".

I tried to write about the Chief of Infectious Disease during my residency who exhorted the medical staff to become active in the community to fight misinformation about AIDS, to use our prestige to reassure our neighbors that gay men could safely teach in the public schools and use the water fountains. And who then went on to tell us that when we worked with adolescents, we had to focus our prevention efforts on the girls because "girls are the ones who can slow down sexual activity. You can't expect a teenage boy to think rationally about sex".

I tried to write. But I have no words.