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Sunday Night at the Animal Hospital

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“Call when you’re done, it will be a while.” Those were the prescient words of our dog walker as he dropped me off at the animal hospital with our dog, Zorro, on a Sunday evening back in July. Medical emergencies rarely happen at convenient times, and this was no exception. This particular event involved a plastic hairclip that had popped from my hand as I was putting it on my head, only to be immediately scooped up by the dog. After prying open his mouth, looking all over the floor, and reviewing Dr. Google’s advice on “what to do when your dog swallows a hard plastic and metal object”, it was clear we needed to get to the vet. But I was on crutches and couldn’t drive. My husband was out of town, as were each of the nearby friends and family members on whom I would usually rely for a ride. Which is when the dog walker came to the rescue. I don’t know if pets sense that the end of the weekend is the best time to get into trouble, but Zorro and I were far from alone o...
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Mind Your Step

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I’ve been practicing mindfulness a lot lately. It’s not for spiritual or philosophical reasons. It’s not part of a new health regime or desire for awakening. It’s because I had foot surgery. I’ve had bunions for years. Not because of the wrong shoes, but because it’s a family trait. The timing was right, so I decided to start with the worst of the two feet. I’ll have to deal with the lesser problematic one later. But the idea is to undergo bunion repair surgery, so that I can ultimately keep up the active lifestyle to which I’ve become accustomed. I won’t go into details about the surgery. It’s gory, and I’m squeamish. Suffices to say that my right foot needed pretty serious realignment that entailed an hour and a half under the knife, two major incisions, and the insertion of some permanent metal plates. Fortunately, I was asleep during the whole thing. So far, the recovery seems to be going well. I’m lucky that I don’t have to go into an office every day. That would be hard...
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The Shock of Return

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We're back in the US after nearly 10 years living abroad in Peru and Kenya. One of the first questions many people have asked me has been how we've been coping with reverse culture shock. This is a common phenomenon, apparently, experienced by seasoned expats who struggle with the disappointments and new adjustments associated with returning to their country of origin. The BBC recently ran a story about it, and there is a highly touted book called, The Art of Coming Home , by an “expert in repatriation” called Craig Storti. He explains that coming home is often more difficult than going abroad in the first place and can lead to issues such as depression, self-doubt, and feelings of marginalization. Well, I'm happy to report that returning to DC has been anything but a culture shock. Sure, the politics are atrocious, but we've been aware of that from abroad and live it like the rest of the world. We certainly miss the adventures of expat life, including the a...
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