January 2007 Archives

In addition to the Rev. Farris' baker's dozen of top rules for parenting, I've come across some good ideas for parenting lately that I thought I'd record here mostly so I can remember them, but also for any others who are interested.

Our co-worker Jacque shared some gut-bustingly hilarious stories last week about trying to maintain a household (with teen-agers) that goes against the flow in certain ways. I'd like to talk with her more about specifics, but two things she mentioned that she and her husband do are:

• Dry clothes on a clothesline outdoors when the weather is nice.


• Take a month off from TV in the summer.

...of course, this is provided we would have television in our house. And a clothesline seems like such a simple thing, but it's really emblematic of frugality, connection with nature, conservation, patience and intentionality. Jacque's kids say, "Mom! Why can't we just throw our clothes in the drier?!" And there's a good answer--ultimately related to holiness.

Also, one of our students has been sharing with me how much she learned when her parents asked her to "earn her keep" last summer by preparing one meal a week for the family. Not only did she come to appreciate her parents' efforts to put a freshly prepared hot meal on the table every night in spite of full-time jobs, she also gained practical experience, learned to think outside of herself on the days she would have just had a bowl of cereal for dinner, and realized a developing appreciation for the significance of food beyond nutrition.

As part of our work at Calvin, Rob and I maintain a blog for the Student Activities Office. We haven't posted a whole lot there since we started the position, but I did put up a post today about the new "weight-loss beauty pill" NV. We'll try to keep our posts there connected with this, our personal blog, as well, since there's a lot of overlap.

So I had my first appointment with yet another doctor today, one of the side effects of moving twice within 4 years. I really liked her--she's very cool in a nerdy way and I wonder if outside of the sterility, we might have a lot in common. I didn't get a chance to tell her I loved her sweater.

But the whole experience left me feeling like there must be a better way to conduct this transaction, which should be very intimate and humanizing, but is all too often impersonal and dehumanizing. The patient is definitely viewed primarily as a consumer--the first thing you do is pay your co-pay, then fill out forms related to information and billing. You sit in one of many uniformly arranged chairs in a flourescently lit windowless room. Even the plastic clipboard I had to fill out forms on was sponsored by Adderall with a little brain clip for the pen. I don't even know what Adderall does, but it must have something to do with a blue plastic brain. Then you are ushered into a room and treated with as much detached, disposable distance as possible. I was instructed to sit on the crunchy paper covered table (instead of on the nurse's level in one of the chairs) while answering questions about personal medical history. The thermometer I held under my tongue was a disposable piece of cardboard--smart cardboard, but still disposable. Nowhere to put my clothing except on one of the molded plastic chairs. The discreet "outfit" I had to put on was made of bleached paper (not to mention the layout of the room was such that my bum was exposed to the door even with the "sheet" over my lap). And the covers for the stirrups? Proudly sponsored by Somedrugcompany.

Perhaps I would be the unusual outlier on a consumer preference survey. Perhaps most people prefer as much anonymity and sterility (of all kinds) as possible when they go to the doctor, but I don't think I'm too strange in my desire for more holistic care. I'll keep looking for that rare doctor who's rebelled against the system aesthetically and economically, but in the meantime, it seems like doctors and groups within the sytem could make a few changes that would subtly alter the patient's experience and downplay the consumer identity.

• Intentionally craft the waiting room, one in which you'd feel comfortable watching a movie after office hours. Put meaningful, original art on the walls. Create conversation spaces, even if people don't converse. Use natural and incandescent light wherever possible.


• Give the receptionist an open desk instead of a little window cluttered with garishly colored competing signs about fees and co-pays and insturance. Post one simple sheet with current notices.


• Politely decline the pens, clipboards, stirrup covers, travel clocks and other branded promotional items offered by door-to-door pharmaceutical sales people. It's not only insulting to patients, it's insulting to doctors as well to be treated as consumers and marketers in their own workplaces. If there's any advertising in the space, make it for local parks, organizations, restaurants and businesses that will contribute to a patient's overall health before he or she needs a prescription medication.


• Have a small wardrobe in the examination room where patients can store their clothing during an exam. More original art here, too--themes of healing and wholeness and the joy of physicality. Put up the doctor's bio and interests for patients to read while they wait. Use skylights to get natural light into the room. Communicate warmth and relaxation with colors and sounds and light, rather than cool sterility.


• Use sterile, but re-usable products when possible--a cotton gown, a real thermometer, etc. Surround patients as much as possible with materials that have some kind of natural integrity: cotton, wood, glass, metal, as opposed to plastic, plastic, plastic.


• Building from the ground up? Emphasize green features that express care for the environment that, in turn, has an effect on our personal physical health. Build on a bike path and have bike racks outside. Build in a walkable area of a town or city.

Any other suggestions?

I looked up Adderall, by the way. It's for ADHD. Go figure.

Sitting down to brainstorm for my editorial on the top meals I've experienced in recent memory, I realized that I should have posted some time ago on the amazing solstice dinner we enjoyed in December. Our precedent was a solstice dinner we enjoyed at our friends Larry and Pat's house in 2006. The general idea is that we defy the shortest night of the year by having a celebration full of light and summer food, expressing the hopeful conviction that the sun will return. And indeed, the very next day is just a little bit lighter...

I and our friends Jeff and Julie planned a whole evening that included, in addition to ourselves and Rob, five other friends from the Three Rivers community. After enjoying wine, conversation and homemade bread in a separate room of the house while the food preparation was being finished, our guests were guided into the candlelit dining room to enjoy four of the five courses for the evening. Jeff gave a welcome and introduced a desire that throughout the evening, anyone who wished to could light candles of remembrance. Then we started presenting the food, each course (except one) accompanied by one of Jeff's homemade wines.

• Course 1: Larry and Pat's home-canned dilly green beans paired with a cold tomato salad with balsamic vinegar, fresh basil and bleu cheese, apple wine


• Course 2: Spinach salad with toasted walnuts, pears roasted and marinated in riesling, and orange-infused olive oil, lavender wine


• Course 3: Quinoa stuffed peppers with mushrooms, cashews, cinnamon, cumin and various colorful vegetables, homemade beer


• Course 4: Citrus platter with pineapple, grapefruit, oranges and cherries arranged to look like a sun, basil wine

After these four courses, we retired to the basement, where we danced to summertime music. Jeff and our friend Peggy have been taking dance lessons and passing on their knowledge so that the movements ranged from simple and spontaneous to structured. Finally, we closed the evening with pieces of Alexander cake accompanied by one of only three precious bottles of blackberry-gooseberry wine from this summer's winemaking adventures. The traditional Latvian cake was made by the mother of one of Jeff's piano students--small diamonds of layered cake, tart gooseberry filling and frosting arranged in a huge star shape.

Throughout the evening, people did indeed light candles--for sick friends, friends far away, significant achievements--in between the delights of tasting and storytelling. Aglow from the candlelight, aglow from the wine, breathless from the dancing and the laughter and the wonder, we passed the darkest night of the year in rebellious bliss and in wild gratitude to the Light that no darkness can ever overcome.