A "JANUARY PICK"

One of the people about whom I have not written extensively in this blog is my wife Kathleen. We met a little over 10 years ago in January, 1999 when I was an intern and she was a 3rd year resident in Dallas. She was very good friends with my senior resident, and she stopped by our team room to talk to her friend one day. (Of note, when I interviewed in Dallas as a 4th year medical student, about one year before that, I went on rounds with her team, although she and I did not really converse at that time. I do remember thinking she was cute, though). That day, in the rounding room, when we met for real, I realized we had several common interests: running, movies, and a love of literature. I had started a book club as an intern for the express purpose of meeting women, so of course I asked Kathleen to join us. We were reading "The God of Small Things" by Arundhati Roy. Shortly thereafter, we started going out, and on our first date Kathleen was at my place and asked me if she could use my phone for a long distance phone call. I said yes, and she called her future boss, Craig Nichols in Portland, to accept a Heme-Onc fellowship position for 1 year from then. Neither of us expected that our relationship would progress to anything substantial in that time frame... or so we told ourselves.

However, as we continued to date and the time came for Kathleen to move to Portland, it was clear that we had strong feelings for each other. We decided that Kathleen should still go, but we decided to make a go at a long distance relationship. The first 2 years were spent between Portland and Dallas, but in the final year of our separation, I was in Baltimore for my own Heme-Onc fellowship. I guess 1/2 a continent apart was not enough of a challenge for us! We somehow survived those 3 years apart with a mixture of nightly phone calls and Q4-6 week visits. Nonetheless, I would not wish a long distance relationship on my worst enemy. Anyway, Kathleen relocated to Baltimore, and we were married shortly before her arrival. We eloped and got married in City Hall in Manhattan. Why NYC? You could say too many Woody Allen movies, but, in our minds, if one is going to elope and get married in a city hall, shouldn't it be in NYC?

We lived together and worked very hard during our first 2 years together in Baltimore; I was in the lab, and Kathleen was in private practice in Annapolis, MD. We spent weekends in D.C., Philly, NYC, or at home. We went running together, biking together (including a hellacious bike trip through the ghet-to, but that I will leave for another time), and enjoyed the company of friends. I knew she was an amazing friend and wife, but I do not think I truly came to appreciate her until the day our son was born, and I almost lost her.

One day past her due date in July, 2005, she went into labor on the way home from a full day on her feet in the hospital. Despite the fact that the July intern on call tried to convince her that maybe she had just an episode of incontinence rather than her water breaking ("um, there were chunks," thank you), we went into the hospital for a prolonged bout of labor on pitocin, which is used to stimulate uterine contractions. Sixteen hours later and after a failed epidural for much of the night (it was finally replaced by an Anesthesia attending before shift change at 7AM- remember folks this is July with new housestaff in the hospital), the decision was made to deliver our child with forceps. He came out, and we were both in tears. Shortly thereafter, Kathleen felt faint; her blood pressure had dropped, and she was having profuse uterine bleeding. The cavalry came in, and she was resuscitated.

I have never been so scared in my life. A lot went through my head in those interminable minutes. How could a moment of utter joy turn into such a nightmare so quickly? How can they not get IV access? Where is the central line kit- I will have a line in in 2 minutes! How can I possibly lose the woman whom I love more than any whom I have known who has just given me a beautiful son? Fortunately, the bleeding stopped, and Kathleen stabilized, but not before she had lost 1/4 of her blood volume. We took our little boy home together just 2 days later, which is a tribute to her resilience- she elected to take oral iron and refused a blood transfusion; I told you she is tough.We have since had another child, little Cate.

I must say that as much as I had appreciated Kathleen before we had children, parenthood has helped me realize how lucky I am to have found her and married her. As much as I love the kids, this is dwarfed by her devotion and selflessness to them. Perhaps this comes from having carried each of them for 9+ months, but I think it is deeper than that. She senses that this is the next phase of our lives together, and (like everything she has done in her life which she has valued: family, science, medicine) she is giving her all to it. The loss of her own mom when she was a teenager probably left her with an understanding that we are here "until further notice" and that everyday is a gift. No one need remind her of that on a daily basis.


This was best exemplified when we were in Vancouver 2 weeks ago. A friend had recommended a great Indian place called Vij's, which is called "the best Indian restaurant in North America." Kathleen dropped me off at the front around opening time for supper while she parked the car with the kids. Miraculously, there was an opening, and I was seated. I quickly discovered by looking around at the decor and clientele that this was not a highchair and kids' menu kind of place, and I wanted to make a run for it. A few minutes later Kathleen arrived with the kids in tow. She sensed my unease, but she just smiled and said that no one was asking us to leave and that it would be okay. She helped entertain little Cate and filled her with Cheerios until she was calm/sated. It was the best Indian meal I have had in my life (sorry mom!): BC spot prawns and halibut with black chickpeas in coconut-lemon curry and beef short ribs in cinnamon and red wine curry with warm greens. Kathleen was right; we all survived the meal intact... thanks to her.

To summarize how I feel about my wife, I turn to a political analogy I heard for the first time last summer when the respective nominees were considering running mates. There was talk of the advantage of various candidates and what they would bring to the ticket. There were "September picks", ones who would provide a huge bounce out of the convention but not necessarily win over voters on election day (see Palin, Sarah and think one-night stand). There were "November picks," ones who would win over a crucial state or demographic group (see Clinton, Hillary and Palin, Sarah in Senator "Hail Mary" McCain's wildest, most drug-addled dreams and think fling), and there were "January picks," ones who might not move a single voter into one's camp but who would allow the President to govern most effectively throughout his/her term (see Biden, Joseph and think partnership). What I have discovered (and which I try not to forget) is that my wife is a "January pick" through and through. While I loved our care-free dating days and newlywed days, her true character, strength, and resolve have been most apparent since we left the B.C. (before children) phase of our lives. Nicholas and Cate could not have wished for a better mom and I a better wife and best friend.