Brain all empty with fatigue, and yet thoughts keep coming out, what’s that about

Dude, Gentle Reader, it’s been a rough week here in Adult Beginner Land.
Last week I took my little boy to the pediatrician, fully expecting to be sent home with a prescription, but instead we were sent to a specialist, who sent us to the emergency room, through which we were admitted to the hospital, where he had surgery, and we were there six days.
He’s totally totally fine and awesome now you guys, don’t worry.
And no, it wasn’t anything vaccine related. I know you guys are up on your current events so I’ll just assure you: I may be a southern-California home-birthing hippy but this kid is up on all his shots, no philosophical objections here.
It was pretty much the worst week ever, but in other ways it was amazing and reaffirmed my faith in humanity.
Let’s see if I can explain this. It’s like, you know how every transaction outside the home, during your entire day —work, coffee shop, post office, grocery store, whatever— you catch a little attitude? Just a little, but from everyone? Like, people are friendly but they’re definitely not interested in you, they pretty much want to process you as efficiently as possible so they can get done with the morning rush, afternoon rush, evening rush and clock out? They’re nice but they basically want you up out of their face and next next next until they can get back to what they really care about?
The ER and hospital were not like that. It felt like everyone who helped my little boy really wanted to help. Like it was their nature, not just their job. They were generous with their help, they checked in, they asked, they pushed me to tell them if I needed anything, they told me it was ok and they understood and they are parents too. They were kind. They weren’t annoyed when I cried. And I cried a lot, unpredictably, almost at random, and I wasn’t the only one.
You wanna be In The Moment, get out of the yoga studio and go to an emergency department, that’s where it’s at.
But that kindness! When do we ever encounter kindness like that in the real world? It was amazing.
It was also really good to see women working well together. You spend enough years in costume shops and you start to think the catty in-fighting is just inherent to women, that women naturally get mean when they’re around each other. But it wasn’t like that in the hospital. Pediatrics ward almost fully staffed with women, and I didn’t catch even a hint of friction between any of them.
Which makes sense, I mean, there’s enough drama in a pediatrics ward, no need to create more.
Although that’s what I always think about costume shops too, there’s enough stress in the work, why create more, and yet there it is.
I think maybe part of it is that the medical field defines a clear hierarchy whereas the costume shop hierarchy is more nebulous and nebulous lends itself toward personal interpretations of rank, which leads to battles and sniping and people refusing to finish a garment someone else started and just a whole bunch of general unnecessary frustrating nonsense.
It was so good to see women working well together.
We were at Providence Tarzana hospital —which I only mention because they were so wonderful they deserve a holla, and because Tarzana is a really fun word to say, and because it’s nowhere near where I actually live so I remain secure within my cloak of mystery— they make it as nice as possible for a parent to stay round-the-clock with their child. But as nice as that is, it’s still the hospital, I was still scared, anxious, stupid with fatigue, trying to KIT for my baby, I had no attention span, I was trying to retain a lot of scary new information, so I found it really nice to scroll through Twitter every now and then.
I’m sure every one on my Twitter feed has had this experience before, where you are having a bad bad time and you’re just so happy for the distraction, a place where no one knows what’s going on with you and you can pretend for a minute that there’s actually nothing going on.
Half the time I’d scroll through and think ‘this is all so frivolous, what is the point of all this ballet anyway’ and the other half of the time I’d think ‘this is beautiful. This is what’s important in life. Doing things, making things, pursuing what you’re into.’
I’m not sure if I’m going back to ballet class this week. I’m not sure if my body works anymore or if I will even want to be away from my family for that hour and a half.
But it’s there, and it’s both frivolous and what’s important in life, so that’s good.

About adultbeginner

Had my first ballet class Ever at the advanced age of thirty-two. Yikes.
This entry was posted in ce n'est pas une mom blog and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

27 Responses to Brain all empty with fatigue, and yet thoughts keep coming out, what’s that about

  1. Basia says:

    What a story! your brain might be empty, but you can still do some awesome writing…. And yes ballet is or may be frivolous, but it serves as a buffer against these sort of things life throws at us…

  2. Katy says:

    Ooh, lots of hugs and good vibes to the whole Beginner family.

  3. d1a2n3e4 says:

    Good grief! What a scare that must have been! Putting things into perspective for sure! I am glad that to read that your sunshine boy is all right now.
    As to cattyness or not: I also wonder if the job-at-hand is perceived as really, really important – as in “life-or-death” important – if then perhaps petty rivalries are put aside?
    One would hope.

    Take care.
    Best wishes.

    • I think that’s a good part of it, knowing that the work truly matters would surely give one the inner fortitude to rise above.
      I worked with a costume shop manager a while back who would try to bring things back into perspective by reminding us all that sure, this or that aspect of the project is totally ruined, but no babies were hurt, so all in all, things are ok.

  4. HUGS to you, AB and your whole dear family. So glad your wee one is better and back to totally awesome. So sorry you all had to go through that, but I see you picked up on many things to be grateful for out of it all. Kindess = love
    which makes the world go round. Amen sister.

    • Thanks for the hugs! That kid. One of his favorite books right now is Courage, by Bernard Waber, my husband brought it along with the other favorite books to the hospital, but I couldn’t read it the first few days. I mean, how are you gonna read a book about being brave to a two year old who is being nothing but cooperative and sweet to every nurse who comes to take his temperature or check his iv….sheesh. Kids man, break your heart.

  5. guyenne says:

    *hugs* Glad to hear the health scare is over, and hope things continue well for your family.

  6. Penny says:

    I am glad y’all are safe and sound now- great post. I started taking a bag of Dove promises to the Dr/Vet/Phys.therapists offices as a thank you for services that I needed… it means so much to thank each other and be present together, you are so right! I read this: and found it to be helpful to me as a reminder about getting back what I put in.

  7. asher says:

    Wow! Glad your little guy came through. Tarzana sounds like one heck of a solid hospital. ER selection pressures seem to select for either the best people or the worst — it sounds like theirs is selecting for the best!

    I think maybe cattiness (regardless of gender) can become a problem in the arts because there are few jobs and lots of people competing for them, so maybe nobody quite ever trusts anyone else? You see the same kind of thing in theater and music and (dare I say it) sometimes even in ballet o.O

    OTOH, I can’t imagine you being paranoid and catty like that!

    Thoughts and/or prayers are available if they’re wanted.

    (BTW, this is Asher the Ballet Squid. For some reason, my phone’s browser is being strange, and I’m not sure if I’m logged in properly.)

    • Seems like the best way to keep from becoming a Mean Girl on the job is to have something really good going on outside of work, so the job doesn’t become the sole identity. I mean, it worked for me, and I see it work for others.
      Thanks for the thought and/or prayers! The part of me that is detached and observes things found it interesting during this time to observe which members of family and which friends offered thoughts, and who offered prayers. No judgement, it was all welcome, it was just interesting.

  8. Jessica Koppe says:

    Sleep tight, sweetheart! I wish you time to recover!

  9. kit says:

    I’m sorry to hear about your little boy, glad to hear he’s doing much better!
    It’s also great knowing that if you put a bunch of women together it’s not a certainty that cattiness will ensue.
    And I definitely hear you on the whole “this is frivolous, but isn’t what’s important to do what makes one happy” thing regarding ballet.

  10. Hospitals are usually such a daunting, scary thing! Glad you had a good experience with it…well, aside from the reasons making you go. Hope everything is alright. Now you can rest and recoup.

  11. Janet says:

    I am glad that your boy is OK. I am also very happy to read that you had a good experience at the hospital. Hope that all of the AB family recovers well.

    SF Ballet season has started. I went to see Giselle (for the umpteenth time) on Wednesday. Thought of you when I found myself doing a critique as I watched. Did not think that the ballerina dancing Giselle fully captured the ethereal mood needed in Act 2. She did not seem to “float,” and her posture was not quite “romantic.” The ballerina dancing Myrtha also caught my “critique” eye. She seemed to get stuck on her hops, did not quite float, and her posture was not quite “romantic.”
    Was I too critical? Is it fair to compare them to some of my favorite ballerinas? Have I seen this ballet too many times?
    Take care.

  12. Reece says:

    What’s this Real Life stuff intruding on my Ballet escapism? ;-)

    Glad to hear the kidlet is doing well. Something like this does put things in perspective, doesn’t it? And I’m glad your experience in the ER and hospital were good. That can mean so much to a worried parent. Having spent a decade as an EMT, and a few years as an ER volunteer before that, I’ve seen it from the other side. Trust me when I say that there is NOTHING in this world like helping someone in real need and seeing it turn out well.

  13. daktulos says:

    Wow, what an ordeal! I’m so glad to hear your little boy is doing better. Ballet will be there for you whenever you are ready.

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