20 min

Relationships are hard Musings on Life and Medicine Podcast

    • Self-Improvement

Relationships are hard. I don't mean to insinuate that hard is good or bad. It just is. These last two weeks have been met with sadness, followed by renewed hope. I last left off by discussing my experience with Mayo Clinic. A couple of days after, we met with rheumatology and immunogenetics at UCLA.The immunogenetics appointment went great. We met with Dr. Kuo (one of the two physicians in charge of the department), her resident, fellow, and fresh new medical student. It was interesting to see the hierarchy as the fellow took charge, the resident smiled a lot at Chloe and made a couple of remarks, and the medical student stayed tucked away in the corner without uttering a word. All in all, it was a thorough and pleasant visit. We officially began the immunological workup; we'll hold off on initiating another medication until we can gather as much data as possible. The rheumatology appointment, on the other hand, wasn't so pleasant. Don't get me wrong, Dr. Whelan is very educated and spent much time explaining his thought process. The problem came about when he told us that our daughter had lupus. He said it confidently but was very optimistic about her prognosis. Everything was in line with what I mentioned earlier, so the mention of lupus didn't come as a shock. For those who haven't read or listened, I discuss this extensively in the article/podcast titled "Patients are more than a set of labs." Even so, it was the first time someone with a white coat said it with certainty. It was the first time Liz ever considered this a real possibility. The two weeks that followed were tough for us.Baseline, Chloe's appointments take up 15-20 hours a week, not including the reading and research I put in every week to become as informed as possible so that when it's time for a decision regarding her care, I can make it knowing I've done my homework. It's interesting how events drastically change one's perspective. Before having a kid, I thought I was swamped. Then, Chloe was born, and I laughed at my past self for thinking I was anywhere as efficient and productive as I was at that moment. Now, I think about who I was just one year back, and I feel the same again. Not too long ago, I was watching a talk by Seth Godin. He asked the audience to raise their right hands as high as possible. Then, he asked them to raise them higher. Everyone visibly raised their hand higher. He says, "everyone holds back every time because that's what you've been taught to do. You've been taught to do that by your third-grade teacher, your coach, and your boss. Because if you put everything into it, they're just going to ask for more anyway."It's an interesting thought experiment. Was I willingly holding back for some reason unbeknownst to me? Was it something I automatically did because it's easier to do more when you hold back from the start? If true, how much of this bleeds into relationships?As we go through this journey as a family, I can't help but reflect. I've come to appreciate how complicated relationships can be when nothing is involved other than life's everyday obstacles. Most people work through this scenario. But what happens when the obstacles become bigger? Do things get more difficult? Yes, but not in the way you might be thinking. It's not that it gets complicated because people fail to rise to the occasion (many do, albeit separately). Tough times ultimately make it difficult to rise to the occasion with your partner. Maintaining the proper communication necessary to stay grounded and on good terms is tricky. But what is the point of a relationship if this doesn't happen? Survival is the inherent purpose behind a community or tribe. Anyone can survive when times are good, but we should be able to lean on our tribe (family) without breaking the system when times are tough.Ideally, you and your partner have a unifying goal that you both want to reach. If this end goal differs for both parties, you've failed before you star

Relationships are hard. I don't mean to insinuate that hard is good or bad. It just is. These last two weeks have been met with sadness, followed by renewed hope. I last left off by discussing my experience with Mayo Clinic. A couple of days after, we met with rheumatology and immunogenetics at UCLA.The immunogenetics appointment went great. We met with Dr. Kuo (one of the two physicians in charge of the department), her resident, fellow, and fresh new medical student. It was interesting to see the hierarchy as the fellow took charge, the resident smiled a lot at Chloe and made a couple of remarks, and the medical student stayed tucked away in the corner without uttering a word. All in all, it was a thorough and pleasant visit. We officially began the immunological workup; we'll hold off on initiating another medication until we can gather as much data as possible. The rheumatology appointment, on the other hand, wasn't so pleasant. Don't get me wrong, Dr. Whelan is very educated and spent much time explaining his thought process. The problem came about when he told us that our daughter had lupus. He said it confidently but was very optimistic about her prognosis. Everything was in line with what I mentioned earlier, so the mention of lupus didn't come as a shock. For those who haven't read or listened, I discuss this extensively in the article/podcast titled "Patients are more than a set of labs." Even so, it was the first time someone with a white coat said it with certainty. It was the first time Liz ever considered this a real possibility. The two weeks that followed were tough for us.Baseline, Chloe's appointments take up 15-20 hours a week, not including the reading and research I put in every week to become as informed as possible so that when it's time for a decision regarding her care, I can make it knowing I've done my homework. It's interesting how events drastically change one's perspective. Before having a kid, I thought I was swamped. Then, Chloe was born, and I laughed at my past self for thinking I was anywhere as efficient and productive as I was at that moment. Now, I think about who I was just one year back, and I feel the same again. Not too long ago, I was watching a talk by Seth Godin. He asked the audience to raise their right hands as high as possible. Then, he asked them to raise them higher. Everyone visibly raised their hand higher. He says, "everyone holds back every time because that's what you've been taught to do. You've been taught to do that by your third-grade teacher, your coach, and your boss. Because if you put everything into it, they're just going to ask for more anyway."It's an interesting thought experiment. Was I willingly holding back for some reason unbeknownst to me? Was it something I automatically did because it's easier to do more when you hold back from the start? If true, how much of this bleeds into relationships?As we go through this journey as a family, I can't help but reflect. I've come to appreciate how complicated relationships can be when nothing is involved other than life's everyday obstacles. Most people work through this scenario. But what happens when the obstacles become bigger? Do things get more difficult? Yes, but not in the way you might be thinking. It's not that it gets complicated because people fail to rise to the occasion (many do, albeit separately). Tough times ultimately make it difficult to rise to the occasion with your partner. Maintaining the proper communication necessary to stay grounded and on good terms is tricky. But what is the point of a relationship if this doesn't happen? Survival is the inherent purpose behind a community or tribe. Anyone can survive when times are good, but we should be able to lean on our tribe (family) without breaking the system when times are tough.Ideally, you and your partner have a unifying goal that you both want to reach. If this end goal differs for both parties, you've failed before you star

20 min