Blue Collar Girl

I have been consistently reminded, during the two and a half years that we have called Rochester Minnesota our home, just how un-physician's-wife-like I really am. Tonight, as servers orchestrated a perfectly scripted food celebration, I was reminded that prior to 2003, I had never met a physician that wasn't my own.

Now, I am sitting in a room surrounded by them. Is there anyone else here that isn't a doctor or doctor-to-be? Yes! I find comfort in Debbie Swiggum, the mother of our good friend Hans. She's a fellow teacher (as I still count myself amongst their group), and she too looks a little confused as researcher after researcher steps up to the podium to show drawings and charts of medications and protocols we have never heard of. (And even after hearing of them, we have no idea what they are or what they do.) John leans over and encourages me that he, too, has never heard of some of the things the good ol' doctors are referring to, but I am not sure I believe him.

Tonight we were invited to a dinner at the Foundation House for the second time in as many years. This is a prestigous house (shown above) formerly occupied by Will Mayo. This time it was a thank-you dinner for the research project John participated in last week. This is a research project that Hans Sviggum is involved in, and while spouses weren't traditionally invited, the charm of Hans got me an invite and a remarkable evening. As drinks and countless h'dourve trays pass by, and Hans makes good friends with the woman carrying the jumbo shrimp, I am reminded again what a different world I live in now and what a different world I am preparing to enter.

I grew up so simply, never wore skirts or dresses (they were for "girly-girls"), and refrained from "hob-knobbing" whenever possible. I liked my hair in a ponytail, loved to go to Long John Silvers for dinner, and owned multiple pairs of shoes but only in the tennis shoe variety.

Tonight I realized that my life will be different than the life I grew up knowing. I am not sure whether this is a bad thing or a good thing. I don't regret how I was raised nor do I regret the different direction my life has taken.

I am reminded of the moment that my father realized John was going to be a doctor. He put his hand on John's shoulder and said, "I'm counting on you John." For what John asked? "For my retirement," my dad continued. John then said, quite seriously, that the Lord may call him to be a missionary doctor. My dad, in response, got a very serious look on his face, closed his eyes, and thought for a minute, and then with a straight face said, "No. I don't think he's calling you to that." We all had a good laugh that night.

I have wonderful memories from my childhood despite the fact that money was not abundant and extras were truly "extras". Big events like a trip to Disney World or a fancy restaurant were truly special because they happened so rarely. My house growing up was full of love and simple pleasures.

I truly hope that I will always remain who I am in my heart now -- a simple "jock" who enjoys watching sports on television and eating a dairy queen blizzard over putting on a dress and eating pastries with weird fillings. I know things will change as John becomes a physician, but I think we can always be who we grew up being even as we talk to strangers and eat with multiple forks.

Now which fork do I use again?