Inquiring minds want to know

http://www.nataliedee.com 

Since I started teleworking in March, and especially after my move to Albert Lea three rent checks ago, I’ve been asked a lot of questions about telework. Primarily, if I like it and "isn’t it lonely?".

My answer to the former is I love it – I have three days a week when I don’t have to worry about what I’m going to wear, I don’t have to put on make-up or fix my hair (unless there’s a video call). I can work wearing sweats and t-shirt and all of my meetings take place at my desk, so I’m never late.

I do tend to laugh when they ask if it’s lonely. “Well, you live alone. Don’t you feel isolated?” 

Sorry, no, I actually kinda like it. I know people think because I’m outgoing and social and all that that I crave being physically around others. Honestly, not so much. Oh, sure, people are mostly okay, but a few of them can get annoying (and they know who they are).

When I was a little kid, my mom would put me in my playpen alone and I kept myself entertained for hours. The playpen was next to a big picture window and when it was dark outside, the legend goes, I would start to play with the cutest little girl in the window (early onset of narcissism) 

Then there’s my track record as a roommate. While no one has told me directly, I know I suck at it. And you can't ask any of my former roommates because none have kept in touch.

Except my sisters - they have to keep in touch with me. My sister Sue, who was my roommate for the first 12 years of my life, would tell you that I was a bit of a slob and that she refused to make my side of the bed. ('I’m getting back in there later, why make the bed?') My sister Chris was my roomie for a few months in late 2004 and she would just tell you that I was never home.

Isolated? Maybe when I lived in Rochester because I didn’t know as many people to socialize with after spending the day teleworking, but Albert Lea is the exact opposite. (Thank you Circle of Friends!)

Sadly, this week has not been a good telework week. Mostly because I haven’t been able to telework! I’ve had to go into the office FOUR DAYS IN ROW. I’ve been working on a video project and it’s tough to shoot video when you’re not physically there. 

You can’t imagine how exhausting this has been. I’ve had to figure out what to wear each day and I think I’m almost out of outfits. And don't forget having to do my hair and make-up. My cohort who has been on camera has the advantage of getting to wear the same outfit three days in a row for continuity. Lucky duck.

Going home

I'm ready to challenge Thomas Wolfe and prove him wrong. "You can't go back home to your family, back home to your childhood." Just watch me.

Back in March, I wrote a post about the six week telework pilot that allowed me to work from home half time. It's been a great experience and while I haven't yet met with my boss to confirm that we're going to continue this arrangement, she also hasn't given me any sign that this experiment didn't work.

At the end of that blog post, I mentioned that the ability to telework half time would allow me to live anywhere I want. As the month of April started, I received a letter from the landlord that told me that the rent was going up and I had to let them know by May 1st if I was renewing my lease for another year.

Time to make a decision.

Time to stop telling friends that I'm thinking about it and take the step forward. I haven't been thinking about this in a vacuum; I've heard opinions from lots of different people.

I know there are some, possibly related to me, that may think it's slightly nuts of me to do this.  (and they wouldn't use the term 'slightly' to describe how nuts they think I am) I listened to my brother-in-law Paul and his thoughts about making the move. The practicality of winter driving and the fact that my car is nearing the end of the forcibly extended life and that I was going to need something dependable sooner rather than later.

There was  an article in the March 2013 issue of Real Simple magazine entitled "back where I belong" by Rod Dreher, that brought home the decision I had ahead of me.

The author shares the story of how he ended up moving from big town Philadelphia back to his hometown after being away for years. The sad twist to the story is that he only realized the value of small town life when his sister, who had always lived in their hometown, passed away from cancer. He saw, during the months leading up to her death, how the community showered love and compassion on her.

But, it was the conversation with my friend Jessie that helped me get right with myself for this decision and realize it's a no-brainer. Jessie and I don't get to see each other a lot, but when we do, we often act as sounding boards to each other.  We met Sunday night at the Guthrie Theater in Minneapolis for dinner and a play.

Her one simple question, "what is your circle of friends like in Rochester," showed the reality of my life. Socially, besides my family here, it's very limited. I have friends here, but not 'hanging-out-friends.'

"And," she continued, "it's not like your family is going to stop inviting you to hang out if you move to Albert Lea." I hope not, Sunday dinners at the Knutson's is one of my favorite parts of the week. Being closer to family here in Rochester than I have in the past 20 years has been outstanding. It's the best part of living here.

Then Jessie followed up with, "what is your circle of friends like in Albert Lea?" I smiled, then smirked. When thinking of my Albert Lea friends, the phrase 'circle of friends' is usually capitalized to "Circle of Friends." In the 22+ years since I've been gone, those friendships have remained strong and have even grown.

Way back in 1988, Jessie and I met and became friends in Albert Lea during a community theater production of "Anything Goes."  When I mentioned to her how I knew it wouldn't be long before I was back at the theater and singing at church, she smiled and said, "you're going back to Albert Lea. It's a no-brainer."

"I'm going back to Albert Lea," I said calmly. Then it became, "Oh my God, I'm moving back to Albert Lea."

But I'm not thinking of it as moving to Albert Lea as much I think of it as I'm going home.

Shortest Commute I've Ever Had

Couple of weeks back I wrote about my "experiment" of dumping cable TV and only having Apple TV. After six weeks, it's going okay. Not sure I'm cut out for doing this permanently, but worth giving it a try. 

My next experiment starts tomorrow when I start a six week pilot of part-time telework. I guess Mayo Clinic has decided not to add any more office space in downtown Rochester. Some department are making it optional, while other areas are downsizing their work space footprint and having only drop-down space for when staff has to be on campus. 

Public Affairs is just starting to get into telework with a handful of people opting in. When it became an option, a very large and very bright light bulb went on in my head. If I were to telework, I could live anywhere I wanted. And where I've been wanting to live, for let's say the last 20 years, is Albert Lea. 

When I moved to the Twin Cities in 1991, it was supposed to have been temporary, at least it was in my mind. I'm pretty sure that I went home every weekend I could. By the time I purchased my condo in '97, I had come to the realization that I might never be moving back to home, so I should find a more permanent home. I just couldn't imagine an scenario where I could live in Albert Lea and still work in my chosen career (nonprofit management) and be able to pay my bills. 

Back to the whole telework pilot...

My ideal set-up is what we're going to be piloting - I'll work Monday, Tuesday and every other Wednesday "in office" and then Thursday, Friday and the other Wednesdays from home. So much of what I do can be done at home, in the comfort of my sweats. When I've worked from home before, those days turn out to be highly productive because I'm not racing off to a meeting or getting distracted by other conversations, etc. I know that I'll never be a 100 percent work-from-home person as I need the human interaction, but I think I'll like doing this on a regular schedule. 

After the six weeks are up, my manager and I will evaluate the pilot and make the decision if telework becomes a permanent plan or not. If it does, then I'll have to make the decision of where I will live come this July 1 - Rochester or Albert Lea or ???

If I die

Painting of the old hospital

Merry Christmas, y'all!  Not exactly the opening line you would expect with the title of this post, eh? But don't bail on me. Have some patience.

During the three work days following Christmas this year, I am working remotely virtually way-off-campus.

Generally, I spend this time in Albert Lea because my bestest friend is in town from Atlanta. But I'm a bit low on PTO, so I figured I would work during the day and hang with her and her family in the evening.  And to save the planet (and my budget), I asked permission to work from Albert Lea.

As fate would have it, Mayo Clinic Health System in Albert Lea has the Mayo employee wifi, so instead of the endless frustration of trying to work on a VPN connection, I am taking advantage of the hospitality of the MCHS Public Affair staff and working from their offices.

The offices are located in the old Naeve Hospital building, a historically significant site as it is my birthplace. I was a patient here once when I was about 3 or 4, but other than that, I really don't have any memories of this place. The new hospital was built when I was a teen and even that hospital has changed substantially.

I remember hearing that most people die within 100 miles of where they were born. Maybe that's no longer true, but I've been thinking about it as I'm working here today. If I were to die here at the office (which would be a bummer), I would be dying, most likely, within 100 FEET of where I was born.

I know, I know, I'm a geek for thinking of stuff like that, but I gotta be me.

Bullying by any other name

During the past two weeks, my colleagues and I have been sharing content about childhood bullying, in advance of the new school year. Our external team created two videos on bullying, a radio show conversation about bullying and providing experts. On the internal side, we shared information from interviews we did with several of our experts who talked about what bullying is and how to help our kids.

I wrote the story and it was a struggle to get the story pared down to under 500 words. My first draft was 2700 words! There was just so much content and so many dimensions to the story. Frankly, I wasn't sure I was qualified to make the judgement of what was valuable and what wasn't.

We posted the story on our intranet news center on Friday, August 24, and it got lots of traffic (over 10K views) and lots of comments, some positive and some a little sad as they talked about what their children have gone through.
 
But then the comments turned to adults bullying each other and bullying in the workplace. One person commented that she was disappointed in how HR handled her complaint about being bullied. Others joined in about their experiences being bullied in the workplace.

As the conversations talked about the increase in bullying, both for children and adults, and how those in authority weren't doing enough, it really got me thinking. Is there really an increase in bullying? Or does any behavior that tilts even slightly negative get labeled as bullying? Bullying lacks a true definition and many people define it as "whatever happens to them."

This is just my opinion (and I know that I'm opening up a can of worms), but I think part of the reason why it's difficult to get "those in authority" to act, is that so many people have made "mean people" and "jerks" into bullies and, with so many people crying "Wolf!", who do they believe?  

There is legitimate bullying happening, but more often than not, I think people over-react, and instead of looking within themselves and questioning their response to a situation, they find it easier to label the other person as a bully.

There are the "snowplow parents" who insist on clearing the way for their children, so much so that these kids don't learn the skills they will need in the real world. They're not learning problem solving skills because they never have to resolve a problem. Mom and/or Dad take care of it for them, sometimes without even involving the kid.

I was teased as a child for being overweight, for having braces, for staying back a grade. Teasing is not bullying. I let it get to me because I had self-esteem issues. It changed for when I got a thicker skin and learned to believe in myself, when I realized that the people who teased or mocked me didn't know me. These people didn't matter. 

I remember my dad telling me that the people who tease you are looking for your reaction - figuring out what button to push. And the moment you give them the victim reaction, it only encourages them. 

Perhaps we just need to be nicer to each other. Perhaps we should realize that some of the people who get labeled as bullies are insecure people who lack decent communication skills. And while we may not be able to change their behavior, we can change our response and see them as sad, small people and find a way to deal with their actions by finding our inner strength.

Perfect (Outlook) Storm

It takes a certain amount of talent and plain old good luck to create the perfect storm of a work day. And I'm pleased as punch to shed my false demeanor of modesty and come right out and tell you that I've done it. Yep, me! It wasn't easy and, if I'm completely honest, it really took a village.

My calendar for Thursday is so solidly booked wall-to-wall that my annual August 1st nervous breakdown may have to be moved up to an earlier date.

I know, I know, you want to know how I did it.

First you have to talk one of your co-workers into going on a business trip on your behalf. Make sure that said co-worker is gone on a day that has a deadline for a publication that only a handful of people can assist with.

Add in another member of your team taking a well deserved vacation, so you don't have her as your back-up and overall cheerleader.

Mix in helping out another co-worker with a project that keeps you away from your desk all morning and then have your always reliable freelancer wanting to spend time with his new baby (rightly so!).

But wait! There's more!

Add in managing an email from leadership, shooting a rescheduled video interview, and sending the aforementioned publication out on specific computer (that is so old that it might be steam-powered) because it is the only computer that hasn't been upgraded to the new Windows which is not compatible with our email needs.

Throw on top of the fire saying yes to working on a new project that you're really excited about working on, but has caused an influx of emails so overwhelming, your soul is crushed.

And then there's the fact that if I live through Thursday, I still have to pack for an early Friday morning flight for a weekend training festival where I'll be presenting four times in two days (three slightly different presentations) and finding out yesterday that I need to pack something slightly formal to wear for the Friday night party.

Yep, creating a perfect storm like this takes talent and ingenuity that few people possess.

I'll try to post at least one more time before they increase my medications.

The latest coolest thing I've learned at Mayo Clinic

It's been a one heck of week at work. One co-workers is on his way to a Mt Everest base camp. Mayo Clinic is doing research on climbers that will eventually help cardiac failure patients and Joel is in charge of sharing with the rest of the world all of the happenings.

The rest of us were able to hang out with the Dalai Lama (yep, that Dalai Lama). Maybe hanging with the Dalai Lama is an overstatement, but he spoke to many of our employees at a special event.

On Wednesday, I attended a research gathering by the new Mayo Clinic Center for Individualized Medicine.  I heard about all the different work they are doing involving the humane genome, but one in particular caught my attention. It's call the BEAUTY project and it could make a huge difference in how breast cancer is treated in the future. It will allow physicians to tailor their chemotherapy treatment based on the genomes from the patient and from the tumor. 

Now, I gotta say they were stretching it just a bit (okay, really quite a bit) to get this acronym. BEAUTY stands for the Breast Cancer Genome Guided Therapy Study, but I'll let that pass for now.

We're all different inside and various medications and treatments may cause a bad reaction in one person and then nothing at all in another. But the true coolness of individualized medicine is it would look at who I am and my body chemistry or genetics and provide what would work for me. 

For the BEAUTY project, when a woman is diagnosed with a high-risk cancer, she would be asked if she would like to participate in the study. Before she starts chemotherapy, Mayo Clinic would take some of her healthy cells as well as tumor cells and then sequence the respective genomes. After the patient has gone through chemotherapy, and during surgery to remove the remaining tumor mass, the tumor cells will be sequenced again to evaluate how they've mutated and adapted to chemotherapy.

From the information gathered, researchers hope to be able to predict how one treatment would work better for an breast cancer over a different. In the future, before a patient would begin chemotherapy, the physician would be able to look at the patient's and the tumor's genome and determine what protocol will work best for that patient.

The BEAUTY project won't change how today's patient is treated, but it could change breast cancer treatment in a few years. 

Training for the Crane

I'm pretty sure I'm borderline certifiable. And I'm pretty sure most of my co-workers are thinking I've crossed that border.

One of my more recent work assignments is the communications plan around the many construction projects happening at Saint Marys Hospital.  At one of the first meetings, the conversation turned to construction cranes since Benike Construction would be erecting two cranes to help with the projects.

Somehow, I'm sure without fully engaging my brain in the conversation, I perked-up and volunteered to do a video on the cranes, including going up in one.

I don't have a fear of heights, so I didn't think it would be that big of deal. Everyone at the meeting kept asking, "are you sure?" (Actually, they are still asking the question)

At a later meeting, while we were outside by the cranes, I realized that there isn't an elevator that will take me up to the top of the crane. In order to get to the top, I will need to CLIMB the crane.  I'm not sure of the exact height, but it clears the 10th floor of Mary Brigh by about 10/15 feet. Let's just say, it's about 12 stories tall.

Now, it's not about the height, but about the climb up. I'm not in shape to do this. To climb up, you're inside the crane structure and you climb a ladder then it comes to a landing and then you climb another ladder and so on.  In other words, it's both upper and lower body strength. And you have to climb down, too.

I wouldn't be alone. The safety director from Benike would be climbing right behind me. I jokingly said, "to catch me when I fall?"

"No, to talk you down when you freeze half-way up."

"Okay. That makes sense, I guess." 

Last week, the Rochester Fire Department did a training exercise on one of the cranes and I went to watch them. They climbed the tower in teams of two and it took them about 15 minutes to get to the top. I would guess that same climb will take me about 30 minutes, or 45 minutes if I add in time for the panic attacks.

Right now, I'm planning on sometime in June to do the climb. I may back out and I know that no one would think less of me if I do. But it's sort of a challenge, too. And I like challenges.

No flowers, please.

I think sending flowers for a funeral is a dumb idea. If you didn't send flowers when they were alive, why are you doing it now?  I can hear the skeptics saying, "But the flowers are for the living."

Really? You are sending something that will wither and die in a few days to someone who has just lost someone. Is that supposed to cheer them up?

I believe in our shallow parts, we think the number of bouquets of flowers that show up at the funeral home represents how important or beloved or connected our loved one was. Maybe we need that physical reminder because our grieving minds cannot hear the word of sympathy and love that are being spoken.

I'm not saying don't send something, but think about sending a plant instead. When my dad passed away 18 years ago (yesterday), several friends sent plants instead of flowers. Each of us kids took one or two home. When you walk through the front door of my sister Sue's house, you'll see a very healthy, 18-year-old spider plant hanging in the entry way. My plant was a peace plant that lasted about five years. (People with ADD are generally not good with plants or candles - tend to forget about them)

It's also important to remember that a $100 funeral bouquet in the big city (Minneapolis/St. Paul) turns into a very large funeral bouquet when ordered from a small town florist (Albert Lea). When my dad passed away in 1994, I was working for Fairview Health System in the Cities and my brother Dennis was working for SciMed (Now Boston Scientific). Both of our employers sent flowers for Dad's funeral in Albert Lea. You couldn't miss them at Bonnerup's (the funeral home), they were huge.

Now that I've convinced you that shouldn't send flowers when I die (I won't send flowers to your funeral if you won't send them to mine...), I just want to leave you with one more instruction. (at least for now, I'm not planning on dying anytime soon, so the list might expand) Please, please, please do not use my 1979 high school graduation picture for the obit. I don't want people to think I died with Farrah hair.

Free time, finally

I've noticed a trend in my blog posts when there has been HUGE gap in time since my last post. I'll apologize or make up excuses or blame my ADD.  It seems my ego has this idea that there are people out there just waiting for my next blog post. I really have to get over myself.

I love writing this blog, regardless of evidence that seems to contradict that statement. I love writing. I love telling stories. I love thinking that I live a fascinating life when the reality screams the contrary.

I hate having limited time to write. And that's what the last two months have been - limited. I over-committed myself to judging skating competitions without any thought to the calendar.  When I finally took the time to consult the calendar, I had already said yes to eight competitions in 9 weeks.

Starting with the first full weekend in January, I had competitions in Mankato (Minn.), Detroit, Chicago, Hershey, Penn., Rochester (Minn.), Detroit (again!), Cleveland and finally Worcester (Mass.) Unfortunately, for my friends and family, I was really whiney about it. And I got even whiner when I was traveling on crutches!

Although my plans started out with all these competitions, I ended up having to drop out of two of them for work commitments. I had to make the difficult decision of either making a second trip to Detroit in February or spend 8 days in Jacksonville, Florida. It was SUCH a tough decision, but being the trooper I am, I took one for the team.

The trip to Jacksonville had two assignments. The first was to cover the "26.2 with Donna: the marathon to finish breast cancer" for Mayo Clinic. The race started and ended at the Mayo campus. Unfortunately, Jacksonville had a cold snap about that time and the temperature at 4:30 am (when we had to be there for work) was a less-than-balmy 29 degrees with a wind chill factor of 19. I froze my patootie off. I hadn't packed for cold weather - no hat, no mittens and my "winter" coat was not a winter coat- it was a fall-type jacket that did not keep the cold out. 

Nevertheless, the race was fun, the runners enthusiastic and it raised money for a great cause.

The second assignment was to shoot video for the 2011 Mayo Clinic Annual Report.  It was awe-inspiring being able to interview Mayo Clinic patients and hear their stories. One was 40-something woman from Orlando who had a double lung transplant last spring. Her spirit was absolutely contagious as she referred to her new lungs as "her girls." (Her donor was a healthy young woman who had died from a gunshot to the head).

I talked to a young woman who had both of her hips replaced before she was 30. She talked about being in such pain prior to surgery that she would rather drag herself up stairs than walk them. The joy in her voice as she talked about the doctor who provided her with the answers she needed was obvious. She felt so much appreciation that she came to work for Mayo Clinic.

It made me appreciate my job, too.

I've been busy these last couple of months, but I've missed you all (my ego has returned - didn't leave for very long, did it?). I'm looking forward to getting back to telling stories and, hopefully, keeping you amused. 

Dear Wayward Facebook Friend

I will be the first to admit that I'm a techie geek and that I absorb everything I possibly can about social media. On the negative side of this "personality trait," I can be a techie snob who will roll my eyes when I read a Facebook status update that's really just a rumor or something lame - Facebook is going to start charging, etc.

To help me get my frustrations out without releasing my evil twin upon the world, I started writing letters that I'll never send.  Here are two examples of past letters that I thought I would share with you, now that sufficient time as passed.

Dear Wayward Facebook Friend,

I realize that you're not a Facebook genius and that it is really just one step above a regular website for you, but there are some Facebook functions that I would like to bring to your attention. I'll go slowly as I know that sometimes your dial-up connection loads the pages slowly on your Commodore 64.

There's this handy, time-saving function called "Facebook Notifications" that I love. I have my preferences (which are my way of telling Facebook how I want it to behave) set to send me an email anytime someone posts something on my wall. So as soon as you write something on my wall and hit enter, Facebook sends me an email with your entire message contained within it.

Now I tell you this because, for some reason, you deleted your recent comment from my Facebook wall. Since it was a rather innocuous comment, the fact that you deleted it baffled the heck out of me.

And thus leads me to my next point, deleting comments. I'm okay with people changing their minds and deleting something they've written on a friend's wall, particularly if said comment was written on a Friday night after consuming an adult beverage or two.  I would especially recommend hitting delete if the aforementioned comment causes mutual friends (of which we share many), to message me with the subject line, "WTF?"

Please take the time to learn about these lovely Facebook features.

Sincerely,

me

The second letter was written a couple of years ago when I was employed at a place that is NOT my current employer.

Dear Wayward Facebook Friend whom I am currently blocking,

I am writing to explain how social media works since you have so obviously not bothered to understand how this new communication system works.

I believe that you're aware that social media marketing is one part of my job description and that, unlike other staffers, I may be on Facebook for several hours each day. It's called "listening." I need to know what is being said out there. You should also know that I do my work utilizing my own personal account. (something I will be changing very soon.)

I know that you know about PTO - also known as vacation. I know that you know about it as it seems that you take a lot of it. Well, don't be shocked, but PTO is also offered to other staff members. There are times between 8 and 5 Monday through Friday that I may be on Facebook, but not at work. That's okay. Utilizing Facebook during vacation is normal.

During these non-work hours, I might talk about non-work related hobbies like figure skating - a hobby that eats up much of my free time and, to be honest, much of my vacation time.

I'm telling you all this because you felt it was important to inform my supervisor that I'm spending way too much time on Facebook and that I'm talking about topics that are not work related. While my supervisor may have acted shocked and told you that "it" would be discussed, please understand that my supervisor has a clue and the information only caused me to roll my eyes and shake my head.

I have only one thing I would love to say to you: in order for you to "tattle" on my abundant Facebook frequency, you would also have to be on Facebook for several hours. See the correlation? 

So, I have taken it upon myself to un-friend you (Google it) and block you from ever seeing my activity.

Enjoying my obvious superiority,

me

Moves in the field

The month of July will be all about moves.

The move into my new apartment.  The move into my new office. And, most importantly, the move OUT of my condo when (keeping my fingers crossed) the bank approves the sale.

The office move will be the simple part, at least for me. The move was at my request as I realized that my great experiment was not a success. Our division of Mayo Clinic Public Affairs decided to have a collaborative space for those people working on our intranet team.  This is an open space with six cubes, three offices with doors but no ceiling, and a meeting space that I call the penalty box, not because it is for bad kids, but because it is an glass enclosed meeting space.

www.nataliedee.com

I was one of the six people to share the cube area and although I was concerned how someone with ADD was going to do in a situation ripe with distractions, I said I would give it a shot. I gave it about five months and I told my manager that I need to get into one of the empty offices that has a door but no ceiling. The move is scheduled for next Friday, July 8th.

Also scheduled for next Friday, July 8th is the start of the lease for my new apartment. And I'm extremely unorganized for this move. There's an excuse a reason for that - I'm not sure where half my stuff is. Some things are still in the condo in Saint Paul. There's lots of stuff in storage in Albert Lea. And finally, there's a boatload of stuff crammed into my bedroom in the basement of my sister's house (with a small amount of overflow into the garage).

There's also the issue of I'm not sure what I can get into the new place. It's a bit smaller than the Saint Paul condo and I'm sure that my sectional will not fit. 

Unless I break it up into three pieces. 

It's a nice sectional and it's paid for. It's neutral in color and it's paid for. I would also have to find a way to get it from Saint Paul to Rochester - requiring both a vehicle large enough to carry it and strong persons to carry it down one flight of stairs (There's a sleeper in one part), put it in the truck and then carry it up the steps to the new place. I may have to pay out some $$ and get my friends at College Muscle Movers (LOVE THESE GUYS) to help out.

And then there's the need to call 1-800-GOT-JUNK to take care of the various items I have been trying to pretend didn't exist by storing them in the garage in Saint Paul.

I thought I would be able to get rid of my storage unit in Albert Lea when I found a new place, but there are several pieces of furniture that are either going to have to stay in storage or get put into storage (the dining room table & chairs, Mom's old buffet, the cedar chest).

I'm going to have to spend my 4th of July weekend thinking about this and that is just going to hurt my head. Maybe margaritas will help.

(my apologies to my skating friends who thought the title of his post meant that I was going to talk about skating. Really just wanted to get you to read my blog - I'm evil and manipulative that way)

The Doggie Dilemma

When I move into my new apartment next month, I'll be leaving behind a couple of my newest buddies - Tuts and Bea. These last nine months living in a home with dogs has been so great and it reminded me what loving and affectionate animals they are.

The apartment that I'll be renting allows dogs with a $300 non-refundable deposit. I am seriously toying with the idea of becoming a dog-owner. I've been spending too much time on the Small Dog Rescue (SDR)of Minnesota website, looking at the available dogs and trying to picture how they would fit into my life.

And that might be the problem. My life.  I travel for skating, so I'll need to figure out doggie babysitters. I'm not always home right after work.

Charlie

Then I see Charlie. He's a mix of a Jack Russell Terrier and a Korgi. The people who run the small dog rescue write a description/bio for each dog and tell you important things that you need to know, such as Charlie needs to go to a home with no other pets. 

I don't have any other pets...

Heidi

Living at Knutson's, I've also grown to love miniature dachshunds.  There are three available from the SDR. I spotted Heidi on their list and would take her home right away except for the fact that Heidi really needs to stay with her buddy Dixie, another doxi. They were rescued from a puppy mill and SDR recommends a home with just adults. I wouldn't mind two dogs, but the apartment is small and I would have to pay two adoption fees. 

Milo

SDR has mature dogs and puppies. They have beagles and rat terriers and chihuahuas (like Milo)and those fluffy dogs - shih zhus and pekingeses.   

You can start betting now on how long it takes before I give in and fill out the adoption form.

My ADD Brain

The more I've learned about having ADD, the more I've learned about myself.

I have personality traits that some might call behavioral traits (okay, they call them problems, but I'm working on being positive here.)

One of those "traits" (personality or behavioral, you choose) was a point of discussion last week.  I was told that I'm too aggressive in conversations and that I cut people off.  I thought about that comment a lot this weekend and tried to remember instances. 

I've learned (by reading too many books on the topic) that a person with ADD may be considered abrupt or short because our brains have already finished your sentence for you. We don't think that we cut you off, because in our brains, you were already done. We may even think that we paused for a moment before we spoke.  

One of our other "brain traits" is the ability to lose track of what we were saying in the middle of sentence. But we ADD people are tricky because we won't let on that we've lost our train of thought, we'll just keep talking until we re-link with the thought and get back on track. We are the kings & queens of the run-on sentence. 

Unless, of course, in the middle of that run-on sentence, you distract us with a shiny object or small, furry rodents. 

So, I apologize to those whose sentences I cut-off or interrupt. You may take it as being rude. I like to think of it as being simpatico with my co-workers. 

Can You Hear Me Now?

I really, REALLY had to have an iPhone. All the other kids had 'em and they were, I was sure, all the really cool kids or the smartest kids or in someway superior to me. 

Once I had an iPhone, it would be the great equalizer and I would be just as cool, smart and maybe even, equal to their superiority.

So, in November of 2009, when my Sprint never-ending two year contract was done, I marched right into the AT&T store to purchase my iPhone 3GS. Only they didn't have in stock. And each time I checked back, they still didn't have any in stock. 

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Two weeks into this exercise in futility, they came clean; said they rarely get any in and told me if I went to an Apple store, I would most likely be able to buy a phone that day. My quest for the iconic iPhone was complete and there was peace and joy in the kingdom. 

So why did I deactivate my iPhone yesterday and cancel my AT&T contract? Mostly because I was spending far too much money a month for the bells and whistles of an iPhone. 

I've been thinking about this for awhile. A couple of months ago, a co-worker of mine talked about how little she was using her iPhone for phone calls (me, too) and that she was planning on dumping her iPhone and getting a pay-as-you-go phone and an iTouch. 

That conversation really planted the seed. 

Two weeks ago I attended a conference at the Sprint World Headquarters. While there, I started hearing about what I could save with a much simpler phone. And since I've been looking at ways to save money, I just decided it was time to do it. 

Oh, there's one more thing I should admit. I was actually paying for two phones on my AT&T plan. I was a single woman on a family plan. 

The iPhone was my Twin Cities 612 number while the second phone was my Southern Minnesota 507 number. I've had the 612 number for over 12 years, so most people would think that I would keep that number. 

They would be wrong. 

Monday, I marched into the Sprint Store and got a new Android phone for my 507 number. Yesterday, I stopped by the AT&T store and cancelled my contract. I'll give credit to Kyle at the AT&T store, he was very accommodating to someone who walks in and announces she's there to cancel her contract. He didn't try to talk me out of it or offer me some deal. He respected my decision and in less that 5 minutes my iPhone 3GS was magically transformed into my iTouch 3GS. (an iPhone in a permanent state of airplane mode) 

I'm slowly getting my new phone figured out, but if you call me in the next couple of days and I don't answer quickly, it's because I'm trying to figure out how to answer the darn thing. 

Morning Meetings

I had my first 7 am meeting today. Not the first one in my life, but my first one here at Mayo Clinic. 

I'm not a morning person - not because I don't like getting up early (cuz I'm up everyday at 5 am), but because my brain is not fully functional until 9ish. I discourage people from 8 am meetings with me. 

And it wasn't just the time, it was the type of meeting that made it even more challenging. It was a project launch meeting for a tech initiative. There were at least 30 people in the room and I recognized no one. I sat in the chair closest to the exit just from fear of being noticed or asked questions. 

I like technology but this is one of those projects that is so immense, it might take me awhile to fully grasp it. Everyone introduced themselves during the meeting and told what area they worked in. There were moments when I thought I was listening to Charlie Brown's teacher. 

When a slide of the reporting and team structure showed up on the PowerPoint, it was alphabet soup. Of the ten or so acronyms on the slide, I knew one. ONE! One of the acronyms was MUPITS. I can't remember what it all stands for, but learning it was a Mayo acronym made me glad I didn't laugh during the introductions when one of the guys said he works in IT and with Muppets.

One moment of being uncomfortable courtesy of Target: Today, I decided to wear my black & gray argyle sweater with a pink shell. As did one of the other ladies in the meeting (including the pink shell) We avoided eye contact for the majority of the meeting. I made sure I didn't ride in the same elevator with her after the meeting. So imagine my surprise, five minutes after the meeting, seeing ANOTHER woman wearing the same sweater with a pink shell. I started having Catholic grade school flashbacks. 

This Day in History (sort of...)

Have you noticed all the news shows are doing retrospectives of the inaugurations of Kennedy, Reagan and Obama?

Barack Obama was sworn in as President two years ago today. I don't know if there will be a second inaugural address, but his first one was amazing. It was a day filled with hope and great designer clothing.

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Thirty years ago today, Ronald Reagan was sworn into office. The 1980 election was my first Presidential election that I could vote in and although my views tilt toward the left, I will admit that I voted for Reagan. It was really more of a vote against Carter. Since I never cared for any of Reagan's policies, the only benefit I received from his presidency was having something to rage against while in college.

Today is also the 50th anniversary of President Kennedy's inauguration. My memories of that day are limited, but I'm pretty sure I watched it while sitting in the playpen by the picture window.  It's possible that I was actually more enchanted by my reflection as I was easily distracted very early on.

This past Monday was a 20th anniversary that stirred more memories for me. January 17, 1991 was the start of Operation Desert Storm. I was unemployed and looking for work in the Twin Cities. Each week I was staying with different friends until I could find a job. That week I was staying with some friends who were draft age and we watched the news reports of the invasion and I couldn't stop thinking what an impact the war might have on them.

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I also remember how I really didn't want to live in the Cities (I had had two prior Cities experiences), but I felt like it was my only option to find a job. I started doing temp work in February and finally got my first job at Fairview Riverside Medical Center in April.  It would be another four years before I resigned myself to the obvious, and started having a life (social, community involvement, etc) in the Cities. During the denial years, I spent all my weekends back in Albert Lea. 

If someone would have told me on January 20, 2009 that I wouldn't be living in the Cities in 2011, I might have been excited about it, but I doubt I would have believed them. 

If someone would have told me on January 17, 1991 that I would spend the next 20 years living in the Twin Cities, I would have thought that they didn't know me very well. 

I've always had the philosophy that where ever I am, it is where God wants me to be at that time. I don't know where God will have me in 20 years, but I hope it's warmer in January. (wait, hell would be warmer in January...I may have create a couple of caveats to the above statement...)

Hello! My Name Is....

What's my name?

I haven't suddenly been struck by the classic soap opera disease, amnesia, although this might qualify as an identity crisis.  So, I'll ask you again, what's my name?

There isn't a right or wrong answer, but there are several answers.  

I was baptized Mary Elizabeth Harty way, WAY back in 1960 and for the first twenty years of my life, I would say my name is Mary Harty. (As a child with a speech impediment who couldn't pronounce R's, everyone thought I was from Boston when I introduced myself) 

Once I got to college, I started using my middle name instead of my first. For the past thirty years, when I introduce myself, I'm Elizabeth Harty. My Facebook profile is Elizabeth Harty, not Mary Elizabeth Harty and I know high school friends haven't friended me because they don't know an Elizabeth Harty (seriously people, look at the picture - I haven't changed that much since high school)

I've had several occasions when friends find out that my first name is Mary, they'll tell me "you just don't look like a Mary." (Discuss amongst yourselves what a Mary looks like and get back to me on that)

I started using my middle name for one very good reason - being Mary Harty meant being one of many. There's my aunt Mary Harty, my niece Mary (MJ) Harty, my grandmother was Mary Harty and I have four cousins named Mary Harty - most of whom kept their maiden name when they married.

Don't get me wrong because I like all the other Mary Hartys - heck I'm related to almost all of them, but back then, I wanted to set myself apart. And now, after thirty years, Elizabeth is my identity and I'm comfortable with it. 

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I'm in the midst of another identity crisis right now at Mayo Clinic that I've never experienced at any of my previous jobs.

Since my Social Security card shows my name as Mary E. Harty,  that is how human resources set-up my email and my company profile. And it is confusing the heck out of everyone. 

Last week, one of my bosses was sending an email to set up a meeting and she referred to me several times as Mary when she knows me as Elizabeth - the email address really threw her.  If you search for Elizabeth Harty on the Mayo Quarterly (it's the Mayo online phone book), you won't find me.

Oddly enough, when people who know me as Mary call me Elizabeth, that too seems a bit strange. There's just no making me happy, is there?

I've asked several times to have it changed, but as long as my SS card has my name as Mary E. Harty, that's how it will appear on EVERYTHING at Mayo Clinic. Some people may see this as a sign to surrender; I see it as time to change my SS card.

Sometimes the truth is overrated

It's time to get up off my bum and get back to the work of improving my health. I was doing pretty well this past summer with the 5K and such, but then the Mayo interview process started, followed by all the activities to move, etc. and exercise was not at the top of my "to do list."

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Between the great food and sweets at the B&B and the goodies that regularly appear in the office, I saw the scale going in the wrong direction and that just had to be stopped immediately! The fastest route to that might be to toss the scale or to resist the temptations around me, but neither of those scenarios are likely to happen.

I had no other option, I joined the Dan Abrahamsen Health Living Center (DAHLC) at Mayo Clinic. It is the super cool fitness center for Mayo Clinic employees, families and volunteers. The location of the DAHLC is across the street from my office, so it will be convenient. 

While the facility itself is rather awesome, the resources that are offered by the DAHLC are even better. You can have a wellness evaluation to help you set your baseline for fitness.

The evaluation provides you with information that you already know, but may have been in denial about. Your body composition and resting metabolic rate are determined by sitting in the Bod Pod, an egg-shaped device using Air Displacement Plethysmography. (Yes, I looked that up and no, I don't really know what it means. Google it.)

If you're claustrophobic, you won't like it. 

They recently added a BVI Patient Scan as part of the wellness evaluation. It is a technology that uses a 3D white-light scanner to analyze your body fat distribution. There are only two of these in the United States and they are both at Mayo Clinic. This scan is better for the catastrophic since you stand in a 7 foot tall square booth (Reminded me of the photo booths at arcades). Sixteen sensors and 32 cameras measure you and produce a virtual body image.  Then they print it out to take with you. Oh joy! I was already completely aware of the location of my body fat, I did realize that my posture sucks. 

The final part of the evaluation involves a treadmill and a gas mask. Technically, it's not a gas mask, but I don't know what the technical term is and it looks like a gas mask. The mask is attached to your face (breathe normal - seriously? With this thing on my face?) and tetthered to a computer that is measuring your heart rate and your maximal oxygen uptake (VO2).  

I must not have put my heart rate monitor on correctly because it went from 150 to 21 to 187 to 68. Or maybe my heart is just really messed up.  

At the end, you get yet another print out with the results of this test. The computer predicts your VO2 Max level and I thought I rocked because I hit 96% of the predicted level. But I was dragged back to reality when the tech told me that computer's prediction is based on a value scale and my predicted value was in the bottom percentile. 

Oops.

So, now I begin the next part of my fitness journey. I just have to get my bum out of bed and get in a morning work out. Stay tuned.

What is normal?

I'm feeling a bit out of sorts. 

I'm waiting for the moment when I start feeling normal again.  Normal might be the wrong descriptor.  (I've never felt "normal" in my life and I'm okay with that.) I'm trying to figure out my new routine and feel settled. 

There's always a transition time with a new job and this transition could take months. Maybe years. I'm getting assignments for projects, but then face the reality that I have no idea who I have to contact or what resources I have.  Genelle is a dream of an administrative support and her knowledge is great, but I've always been a person who likes to figure things out for myself.  That independence could be hurting my productivity and it's time to change. 

But my lack of routine extends beyond the job. I'm living with my sister and brother-in-law and while they are incredibly welcoming, it's still not my home.  I'm a guest, but not really. Most guests don't get their own garage door opener.

This past weekend, I was up in the Cities and stayed at my condo. Except it didn't feel like my condo.  Some of my stuff is there, but a friend has moved in with some of her own furniture, so it looks a bit different. One moment that was most "out-of-body" happened when I walked into the bedroom closet and it was full of someone else's clothing. 

I'm stuck between two worlds. The condo isn't on the market yet, but will be very soon. It could be months before it sells and I'll be living in this limbo until then. 

I guess I have to put on my big girl pants (what the hell does that mean anyway?) and create my own normal. 

I'll start by setting a couple of goal for this week. Today, I brought my lunch instead of eating out. (Cuz I bought a very cool new neoprene lunch bag)

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Tomorrow is my wellness evaluation at the Dan Abrahamson Healthy Living Center and I'm going to get back to working out.

Normal will be whatever I decide it is.