Just Hangin' Out

Our lil smiley turned ONE a few weeks ago.

Alhumdulilah, he is such a joy to have! Whenever we have free time on the weekends and weekdays i try to plan activities for our lil family - thats around all the parties and shaadi's that come up in the summertime - but sometimes its nice to just chill at home. I've realized its where Ismail is the most comfortable of course, and its not fair for him to be cooped up in his stroller all day, esp now that hes on the move but not quite walking yet. the other day we went down to our finished basement (I've always been a lil afraid of basements since i was a kid so its still hard for me to go down there on my own, whos the baby now?). i wanted to get some exercise and Ismail loves rolling the ball around. i started dribbling the ball soccer style and kicking it lightly to and fro - and he just started laughing sooo hard! that precious, unstoppable giggle that just makes your heart melt and makes you want to laugh too - its just soooo cute! he was clapping his hands and watching his mom act silly and run circles around him. and it was good exercise for me too! Just a simple little activity - and thats what its about i think, really just living in the moment! not looking forward to whats to come or what I have to do, or organizing some original activity every other day - but really just enjoying my baby and really spending time with him... I look down at him when I put him to sleep at night and cant believe how big he's gotten. I love that he still cuddles with me, still hugs me, looks around for me when I'm not there. I'm so blessed to be able to experience all of this and more!

re-stepping into blog world

My son Ismail Hamzavi is now 11 months old! Last time i blogged was more than a year ago!

Since my last post I have given birth, become a first time home owner, added two lil' letters beside my name (MD!) and have started my residency! A lot has happened! A lot of my friends have started bloggin' which has kind of inspired me to jump start this lonely page again. i dont know if anyone will read it, nor do i really care, now its something i want to do for me and hopefully for my son in the future. when he's old enough to read, he might enjoy this rough chronicle of tales from his baby and childhood (depending how long I keep this up!)

Smiley's sick :( he's had a fever for the last three days. Ironically I'm actually working in outpatient pediatrics this month. Yes, I wash my hands an insane amount of times during the day. But of course, I havent even been here for three days and hes sick! I hope its not a harbinger of what the month is going to be! Thank God though, he doesnt have any other symptoms.... he's playful, active... maybe a bit on the clingy side. Last night he ended up in our bed (actually that happens every night). He's woken up the past two nights around 4 am and is WIRED! he sits up and laughs and wants to crawl around. I thought he fell asleep beside me and fell asleep myself and then out of nowhere- boom! and a cry.... he fell off the bed (first time I might add)... I felt really guilty but he was fine thank God :)

so we're off to see his pediatrician this afternoon... its probably viral but just want to make sure and look in those ears. hopefully there ain't too much wax in there (which i've seen a lot of this month!).

surprisingly, im at work and not too tired! Being a working mom again is totally making me more organized, more punctual even. I actually set everything out the night before, including what hijab and accessories im wearing, and any extra stuff he needss at his nanny's... i must say it feels good to be organized!

I'm really looking forward to a day off tomorrow - I love 4 day work weeks :) thank heavens for independence day hehe :)

30 weeks :)

Its been ages since my last post.... this year is flying by! I'm into my last rotation of third year - internal medicine, and I feel like its the most challenging one yet! That could be due to a multitude of reasons - one being the fact that I am 7 months pregnant (alhumdulilah)!

Its hard to believe in just a few short weeks, there's goin to be another little human being thats goin to take over my life! With the kicks, pushes, and mini punches, a bond is developing between this little being and I. Its truly an amazing feeling alhumdulilah.

happy thanksgiving!

Its Thanksgiving! Yay!!!

As much as I used to think our family doesnt formally celebrate this holiday, I'm realizing now, as I think back to years past, that this couldnt be farther from the truth. I remember having our very own turkey for more thanksgivings than not - i remember the very first one, and how my dad stuffed a whole onion inside and later told me it was a turkey egg. I remember watching my little brother eating a huge piece of turkey, with his big eyes barely peering over his feast, excitedly proclaiming that this was the best turkey he'd ever had in his life. Besides the mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce, apple pies and of course the good ol' bird, our family adds on many cultural foods to the table spread, including spicy biryani and curries. Not to mention that our turkey was always the best on the block bc we always basted it with a colorful combination of indian spices, only bc anything without these mysterious pastes and powders is just a bit too bland for our taste.

As I wished my friends from work a happy thanksgiving, we exchanged our own stories about what thanksgiving was for us, and what foods our taste buds had in store. I found it refreshing to find that many now American families celebrate this day with similar fusion of menus. My friend from Iran mentioned how her family goes all out with the turkey, all the traditional american sides, as well as a vast array of succulent Iranian dishes such as meat cutlets and saffron rich rice dishes with golden raisens and yoghurt. Another friend mentioned her boyfriends family, from Nigeria, that celebrate with a similar literal melting pot of delicious dishes - beef stews, oven roasted plantains, steaming hot beans and rice.

What we've created is our own American subculture. We uphold our own traditions yet proudly mix it with tastes and aromas from back home. The colorful and diverse spread we find on our tables is likened to the new heritage we are forming for ourselves and for generations to come. We uphold the values, ideals, and beliefs of our parents and grandparents, yet find ourselves embracing values that make this culture and country so grand and rich as well. By getting a glimpse into my friends festive holidays and reminiscing on my own memories, I realize once again how similar the immigrant experience truly is, and how colorful a mosaic we produce as we piece together significant snippets of our ancestral heritage with our own American experience. Its truly a beautiful and breathtaking product, a colorful spread, tantalizing our taste buds and comforting our souls. Despite not feeling particuraly patriotic the past few months, I can say that I truly feel that this is precisely what being American is all about: blending together east and west, yet upholding each as individual parts to the whole.

and with that I say, eat, drink (water people) and be merry!

Lessons from surgery

So I've survived two weeks in general surgery at the VA in Detroit. and its been hard. Its been hard getting up so early, eating suhoor in the car, and trying to find time to squeeze in praying fajr between seeing patients, rounds and lecture. Its been hard on my little feet to be on them all day (orthotic inserts have helped!). its been hard being alert and auto-pilot, answering questions and acting interested for more than 12 hrs a day. But I've learned quite a few lessons in the past two weeks, most of which i havent read in any book.

- Listen.
As one patient who recently had a radical mastectomy and carried around a pump like contraption for over 6 months to promote healing told me: "I know my body." Patients know their bodies, and there is nothing more frustrating for them having someone who they've known for less than 5 mins ignore concerns, fears and doubts. In the interest of time, so many docs write orders for the drugs and treatments they are familiar with, cutting the conversations short and hurrying the patient along so the next one can fill that room. These days, caring for patients is more of a business venture with the intruding rules of insurance companies. Still, as so many patients have taught me, we have to remember that the sick are human beings that are often on an emotional roller coaster. They are entitled to participating in their own health care - even if that means taking a few more moments to listen and collaborate.

- Be thankful.
I saw this patient on Friday who came in with rectal bleeding for 5 months. He had a bad case of the 'rhoids, but more than that, a bloody mass in his anus. When we got the pathology report back, it was positive for adenocarcinoma - cancer. I was there when the resident attempted to tell him what we just found. Thankfully, this type of cancer, depending on how much its spread, is very curable with radiation and chemo. what I could not get over however, was how painful it must have been to have a normal bowel movement with such a mass impeding normal passage. the patient said he had been passing blood for months. He said he dreaded having a bowel movement bc it hurt so damn much. I believed him. For all the jokes we make about this stuff, we should be sooo thankful that we don't think twice about going to the bathroom. Other patients I have seen have had their colon removed for whatever reason and now have the remaining intestinal tract attached to their abdominal wall - and their excretions collecting in a bag attached to the skin. Can you imagine what it must be like to go through that - day in and day out? These are normal ppl that once did normal things including share intimate moments with a loved one. Imagine being a loved one and changing that bag day in and day out. Again, I am so thankful I am healthy and normal! alhumdulilah. At the same time, the strength that emanates from these individuals is amazing. Their patience, faith and attitude is inspiring to say the least.

- The little things count.
On my second night on call, I interviewed a patient who came in with unexplained bleeding. An 80 year old man who'd just lost his wife only 14 months before, his calmness and cheerful disposition amazed me. He was seriously one of the sweetest old men I'd ever met. He talked to me about his childhood, migrating to the US from Greece at age 6, growing up by the Ambassador bridge in Detroit, his high school days and his 50 year marriage with his beloved wife. What struck me the most was his repeated appreciation he had for his new Lebanese neighbors. For the past month, since they had moved there, this Muslim family had been sending him a tray of freshly cooked food every single day. For this old man who lived by himself, this gesture of goodwill was incomprehensible. I smiled to myself when I found out this family was Muslim - what a beautiful good deed and embodiment of all things sincere, gentle and kind in the Quran and hadith's teachings. This was dawah and kindness at its peak, and this old man would never forget the generousness of these beautiful friends.

- Everyone's allowed to cry.
My first night on call I was checking up on patients before calling it a night. I checked up on one patient who had had a simple surgery hours before. A big, burly man with a long white beard and a deep voice, we made small talk for some time. He was here all the way from Toledo and no one from his family or friends was there to keep him company. As we talked more, suddenly I struck a chord and he talked about how distraught he was that he could not work after having three toes amputated a few months before. Now a slave in his own home, in a vicious cycle of despair and isolation, he was utterly depressed. I watched as this huge man, a symbol of what our society deems as physical strength and brawn, broke down when speaking of his mothers death a year before. The tears flowed from his eyes as he tried to gather control of himself. I could not promise him that life would get better, but I offered practical advice which must have sounded so silly coming from a young, naive and sheltered girl. In the end, I just listened.. This burly man had a sensitive, warm heart that was hurting. Everyone's allowed to have a good cry once in a while.

- Touch.
As a Muslim woman, I frequently get bombarded with advice on how I must conduct myself, what I should refrain from, how I should act and what I should do. I've gotten into the whole shaking hands debate - conjecture on the proper response to an innocent gesture of greeting and goodwill. Handshaking aside, I've learned how vulnerable a sick individual really is as he or she lies in that hospital bed, hour after hour. I've realized why there's such an emphasis in Islam placed on visiting, caring, and honoring the sick. I've seen countless patients who spend days between visits from their loved ones, and some receive not one visitor from the outside world. Ive seen people at the peak of vulnerability, as they discover how their bodies have abandoned them and are now privy to the most devastating news they will ever receive in their lives. Its at these times where the warmth and love of holding ones hand is so important. Sometimes, I'm not sure if someone will want to be touched. But just as i think this, I am surprised that they squeeze my hand back, as if holding onto the one last thing that makes sense in their lives. I'm not sure if such gestures are proper for a Muslim woman - but I also know that God is Merciful and that caring for the sick is one of the most honorable deeds in His eyes. Somehow, I think its ok, and I feel closer to Him through my interactions with His creation.

I'm thankful that, with the help of wonderful patients, I've discovered these important lessons early in my career. I feel like i finally appreciate the importance and beauty of the field of medicine, after years of wondering why the hell i was sacrificing a social life, sleep and real income. I can only pray that I remember these lessons no matter how old, jaded or tired I get.

Ten years ago...

I'm stuck in traffic.

I hate being stuck in traffic. The extra two hours of sleep I've gotten the past two months being on the "easiest" rotations of the year, psych and neurology, seem hardly worth it as I inhale the bitter odor of gasoline and struggle to stay awake in stop 'n go traffic. This morning is even worse as I make the long haul to Livonia to the University Psychiatric Center to meet with Dr. Weiss, a child psychiatrist, who I'll be observing today.

But this isn't the first time I've taken this route, and this isn't the even the first time I'll be meeting Dr. Weiss.

Some time ago, what seems like ions ago, my mother dragged me to this very office building. She was a psych resident and I, a junior in high school. I had been struggling with a recent move and most importantly, with AP chemistry. This one class turned my world upside down. Before taking this class, I had some confidence in my intellectual and scholastic capabilities. Suddenly, I was enrolled in what would be the hardest class I had taken up to that point, and my anxiety was stifling all chances of success. I'd always been an anxious child, but this worry had helped me succeed up to this point; I always had my homework in on time, worked on projects weeks in advance, and always went the extra mile on all assignments. It wasn't that I didn't "get" this material - after all, I had learned it before in regular chemistry class, in which I had done quite well, with a lot of hard work. All of a sudden, I realized that I was surrounded by all the "smart" kids, and I wasn't so sure that I was one of them anymore. I questioned my abilities which effected my performance. I stammered uneasy answers in class, struggled with homework, and for the first time in my life, experienced true test anxiety. The worry effected my grades of course, which only made me worry more. It was an endless cycle, one that my mother was certain to get to the bottom of by this visit to a child psychiatrists office.

And so I went, mostly to find out how a psychiatrist could help an adolescent like myself. By this point in life, I had already decided that I too was destined to go to medical school and become a shrink myself. My mom had rubbed off on me in more ways than one.

So I sat in his office and talked about the problems. The weird thing was that we talked about other things. What I did for fun. How I got along with my family. What I wanted to be when I grew up. It was actually kind of fun, being able to talk about myself and my problems to someone who wouldn't judge or really care about the meat of it. We then talked about my anxiety about school and ultimately, AP Chemistry.

"So, what's the worse thing that can happen, Saba, if you don't do well in this class"

"Well," I reasoned, "it will effect my GPA. I won't have all A's.... or even all A's and a few B's"

"And? is that the worst outcome?"

"Well... if I don't have a good gpa, I wont go to a good college. Maybe I wont do well in college either... and then I wont get into medical school..."

"uh hmmm" Dr. Weiss nodded and suddenly I surprised myself that these were the thoughts that were ultimately going through my head. Later I would realize that the psychological technique Dr. Weiss was using was Cognitive Therapy - uncovering my automatic thoughts, distorted assumptions mostly, about myself, my surroundings and my future.

Dr. Weiss assured me that I would probably do fine, even if I didn't get that A in AP chemistry, and that I would probably go on to go to medical school if that was what I truly wanted. I left his office with my mom, awed by this new power that had just been instilled in me. I realized that so much of my anxiety up to this point in life was based on these faulty assumptions I unconsciously made about outcomes. And I realized that no matter how bad things were, if I couldn't control something, such as a delayed flight in the airport and being stuck waiting at the terminal, it wasn't worth my worry. I could only worry about what I had control over, and even that worry could be transformed into positive energy rather than a negative pull that only kept me from reaching my full potential.

I suddenly find myself at my destination and shake off the nostalgia to return to today. Reflecting on a very relevant past experience from ten years ago, I realize how thankful I am to God. It was only years ago that I came here as a "patient" to talk about my problems, and my constant worry about the future. And now, I was entering those doors again, but this time, as a medical student. The situation reaked with irony. But it made me smile to myself too. With a smile on my face, I push my latest concerns and worries to the back of my mind, reminding myself that things have a way of working out. These worries won't even matter ten years from now, and maybe I'll smile about them then too. With that, I push open the front doors of the office building, and put my best foot forward, as a confident, experienced woman. I have something to offer.

The Need for Female Bonding

The need for bonding: single, married, married with kids, single with kids, married with pet monkeys, whatever - theres this innate need for females to socialize and bond with a member of the same gender. This does not change after one is married.

There's some notion out there that once you've found your soulmate, your heart is quenched, the empty spot in your soul is now full, and you have no need for any additional forms of companionship.

Obviously, a male member of our society came up with this notion.

I dont know what it is, but Fasahat can go for weeks without engaging in some sort of social activitiy while I on the other hand, will go through full-fledged withdrawal symptoms without a healthy dose of good conversation. I almost had a depressive meltdown after one of two and a half weeks of nights on my first rotation, where I slumbered while others enjoyed the summer . I got moody, I got bitchy, and yes, my husband asked me if it was "my time of the month". I realized that there are only so many weekends that can go by without spending some time with good friends.

I know this is a vast generalization, but ill go ahead and propose it anyway: for some reason, it seems guys are perfectly OK without that connection. Most girls Ive talked to about this feel like myself - that making those connections and keeping those close ties effects our sense of self in so many ways. Maybe its an under 30 thing, I dont know (It seems like at 30 all of a sudden u turn into that confident, self sufficent woman you thought you'd never be in ur 20's).

I'm not talking about merely socializing. I'm talking about those heart-to-hearts, those conversations that could go on forever, the stories that are shared that you can so relate to. After I dont know how long, I just spent a few invaluable hours tonight re-discovering just how important this experience is for me. Its food for my soul. Regardless of the fact that I've been married for four years (well... five if you start counting from my nikkah....), I still need that essential female exchange. Talking about difficult experiences such as leaving your family after marriage helps to heal old wounds, long after the event has actually occurred. There are certain core events that occur in a woman's life that must be shared with another, to relieve tension, to dissipate saddness, to at least acknowledge with another that someone else has felt that pain and has also risen above it. Most importantly, it provides us with spiritual nourishment. We admire each other for unique experiences, but most importantly, admirable coping mechanisms. These montras are internalized within us as well, and we use the exchange as a learning experience. We inspire each other to be better, to not settle for less and to expect more from ourselves.

When it was time to part this evening, a familiar warmth filled my body as I hugged my friend goodbye. I smiled to myself, thanking God for another blessing He has given me this month. Fasting, prayers and extra good deeds are essential for spritual growth. For me, relating to another being, solidifying a friendship, and instilling new motivation prod me along that same eternal path.