Scope of practice

Vintage 1980s Kermit the Frog Washcloth Puppet :)

This week, I was at the doctor's office (a non-diabetes doctor) and was the unfortunate recipient of some hard core ignorance, and from a place that it has no business being. Knowing the difference between Type I and Type II Diabetes should be a no-brainer for health care professionals. And if you don't, then don't make any statements that suggest you do. It bugs me when my regular diabetes nurse practitioner (who I see every three months) won't talk to me about anything except diabetes, but now I'm understanding a little bit more. She is recognizing the scope of her practice and refusing to speculate on issues she isn't competent in.

You have a job, so do your job. Don't try to tell people about their fertility if you aren't a fertility specialist. Don't talk about schizophrenia if you don't have an advanced degree in mental health. Don't give financial advice if you aren't an economist or an accountant.

Be exactly who you are, and don't be who you aren't. And don't apologize for not being everything to everyone. You're human. That's how it's supposed to be. There's nothing wrong with not knowing. There's nothing wrong with saying "I don't know", for being unaware, or ignorant. But what's not okay, is lying about it.

"The Hunger Games"

 

In an attempt to avoid spending the evening staring at my bedroom ceiling, I went to see The Hunger Games with my friend and her eldest son.

I haven't read the books, for a couple reasons. The first time I heard about the series, and asked about the premise, I was horrified. Later, I spoke about the books with a different friend, and discovered the philosophical nature of the series. Sufficiently impressed, I decided to read the books over the summer during my decadent book-reading marathon which will commence soon after graduation (Obviously only after I've sobered up and begun sleeping in my own bed again--Ha! As if).

The movie was wonderful, and powerful, and disturbing. The crowd was awful, and horrible, and emotionally disabled. They laughed when they should have cried. I wept all the way home. I wept for our world, where violence is normal, and a brilliant concept like Hunger Games is misunderstood by the masses as some kind of thriller series.

I am saddened by the state of our world, where a film whose cinematography gave me a migraine could draw such delighted crowds, and so many mothers with children. I feel like I should take off all my clothes, cover myself in ashes, and shave my head. I feel like nothing I ever do is sufficient. There will never be enough. The beast of greed is insatiable.

Life update

I hate it when people get preachy on their blogs. I hope I never come across that way. Whatever I say is for my own enjoyment, really, and if anyone else likes it too, that's just icing on the cake. It is noteworthy that I love my readers, though, and love to make them happy (or just make them think).

We all know I've taken to hibernating on the weekends. Tomorrow, I am going to church, but I love not doing a thing on Saturday and Sunday. I wish that no one (including me) cared that I missed church, or didn't go to my small group on Sunday evenings. I wish that there were two more days in the week, so I could do it all.

I am getting a lot better at going through my stock more regularly. Why hold onto stuff that doesn't sell? Why let it clutter my already tight apartment? That's just silly, I say.

Christmas is coming. As I declutter, I am holding onto things that are good for other people as gifts. I have not been as successful this year at saving gifts for the six months prior to the holiday season. And at no point am I going to get a surge of energy in the next two weeks, so whatever is in my home right now, will have to do (Family, take note! You will not suffer).

I did me some yoga in my living room this evening. Pandora has a yoga station, and that was lovely background music. I'm getting better, stronger, and it feels really good.

I think I'm making Saturday evening my thriller film night. Maybe I will be inspired (like when I watched The Forgotten) and write something thrifty tomorrow when I return to the interweb.

Theology and Sexuality

This weekend, I am taking a class on Sexual Addictions. I'm taking it, not because I need the class for any requirement, but because I don't feel like I have any sense of what sexual addiction is about, whether it is different from other addictions, and if so, how and why?

I would really like to write about the theology of sexuality, like dissertation write about it. I have come to such a different place in my heart through my years at the seminary. But I feel like it's off-limits in a way. For example, there are women writers who write about sex and theology, who even do it well. Yet, in spite of this, the podcast I received this week, that we were to listen to before class, mentioned ZERO women. You read that right, zero. I was offended. I still am.

But there's something about women writing about sex that seems like too much to us. Men talking about sex can be academic, scriptural, biblical, etc. Women talking about sex could be emotional, laden with the possibility for innuendo. Women are seen as sexual objects and are thus even at greater risk for being misunderstood and vilified for their brashness. We read the words, but we see breasts, breasts, breasts. Yikes.

This (i.e. writing about theology and sexuality) is not my calling in life right now, though it is a passion of mine. If I have a "calling", I don't know what it is.

[Sidenote: Now that I'm in my final year at the seminary, I'm flooded with this language of calling. "Has he been called?" "Have they called her yet?" "We've decided not to call you." I'm not a fan. Calling is by God, no? So for something that is God-driven, we throw our weight around an awful lot on the issue.]

I wish we could talk about sexuality more freely. I wish that we weren't still wrestling with the topic of gender (and by we, I mean a large percentage of the Church). We're still talking about ordaining women, when we should be talking about issues of justice in our larger environments and the Church's effect on the World. But there we sit in our small churches, arguing about women in the pulpit. Bleh. It makes me crazy.

So I enter this weekend with hope that I will be surprised, but concerned that I won't be. Updates later.