Househusband

The Best Laid Plans on Mice and Men…

So our plans changed. We had planned a nine-month vacation this year to bond with our kids, away from the hectic 24/7 schedule of a mission hospital that has defined our family schedule, or lack thereof, for over seven years now. Lyol is nine and time flies. We don’t want him growing up and just remembering that his parents worked a lot, ‘Because there’s somebody at the hospital who will die if we don’t go up, buddy. Sorry. We’ll be home soon.’ This vacation was our way to refresh for a final push and try to last another three years here without burning out until new docs show up.

We had planned to hike the Appalachian Trail. We bought all the equipment. We went out on eight-mile hikes with backpacks through the sand with the kids. We had a sponsor supplying all our food. We had spreadsheets of all the mail drops, how far apart they were, how far off the trail they were. We read all the books. We knew how unlikely it was we would finish the whole thing. But we also knew how stubborn we are and there was a chance…

We had a schedule. Speaking engagement in Loma Linda March 3 for alumni weekend Sabbath School. The programs were already printed up and everything. Spend a week in the mountains of Big Bear (we already have a condo rented) hiking around to test out our legs and our equipment. Start the Appalachian Trail in Front Royal, VA heading north on March 11. We had the money saved up. We had the church agree to grant us unpaid leave. Everything was perfect.

Well, then our replacement surgeon, Christian, got malaria. And then got it again. And then again. And then again. Like back to back to back to back. His blood must be like mosquito-Gatorade or something. And his malaria is evidently resistant to all our best treatments. So understandably, he doesn’t really care to stick around and subject himself to that anymore. So he’s headed back home. So we’re headed… nowhere. That’s where we’re headed. Nowhere. We’re not going anywhere. We’re staying here. We’re stuck.

So our plans are off. No Loma Linda. No Big Bear. No Appalachian Trail. Nothing. Poo.

Sarah is a fantastic doctor. But we can’t leave her alone for nine months. A few months of slow season, maybe, and we can get some volunteer doctors to help her out. But not nine months. Too much for one doc.

In addition to our longterm surgeon and my father-in-law, Rollin, leaving a week ago today, he took his wife with him! She was the one raising our kids for the last six years. And our cook quit a few months ago. And the kids’ previous babysitters all moved home or are in school. And we always said we wouldn’t ditch our kids with non-family just so we could work. But that was before we were in the position where, if Danae and I don’t both go to work, that means either one of us works A LOT or patients die.

And now we start to throw ourselves a massive pity party.

We can’t leave our kids of 9, 6, 4 and 2 home alone. They need homeschooling. They need guidance. They need oversight. They need fights settled. They need discipline. They need attention. They need love. They need lunch! They need a parent. And Danae would be awesome at all that. She would be the best.

The problem is the hospital. The hospital needs a surgeon. Sarah isn’t capable yet. Danae is. Danae is an awesome surgeon. Danae is a natural surgeon. I tried. I’m a tenth, no, a hundredth the surgeon she is. And that’s me being generous to myself. I learned the little stuff. But I’m no natural at it. The patients need her. The hospital has a reputation of being THE surgical hospital around. So Danae will work. And she will work like a dog. I know her. She will do her best. And she won’t stop until she’s given all she can give. She’s still my hero every single day. Even when she’s working 14-hour days, just like the last two days, doing ten surgeries each day, because they need to be done. The OB/gyn doing hip disarticulations in a last-ditch effort to save the patient with gas gangrene of his leg clear up to his belly who just arrived, after being hospitalized elsewhere for three weeks. (This is literally an example from just four hours ago.) She’s never done it before. Never seen it done before. But she did it perfectly.

So that leaves me being the stay-at-home parent. And this is a very new identity for me. I’m not really sure how this is gonna go, honestly. I can cook. A bit. I can clean. A bit. I can be a parent. A bit. But this will be a major adjustment. I will no longer be the missionary doctor. I mean, I’ll probably still be in the hospital 7-9 at least each morning doing all the administrative stuff. I’ll take medicine and peds and trauma call 3pm-7am every day. I’ll come up and do consults or ultrasound or anesthesia or whatever when they need me. I’ve been in the hospital 8-10 hours every day this week still. I’m sure I’ll still be putting in my forty hours each week. But my primary responsibility will be childcare and wifecare, because childcare and wifecare allow the wife to save lives every single day I do it.

So I’ve decided I’m going to give it my darnedest. I’m going to be the best househusband I can be. I know how hard my wife will be working in the hospital. I need to try to work every bit as hard at home. It would be disrespectful to her not to. Especially knowing she’d do a better job at it. I’ve got two doctorates (one honorary, so doesn’t count), and I’ll be a househusband. Well, my brother-in-law has a masters and is finishing his doctorate this year, and he’s been a househusband for almost a decade now. And you know what, he seems to be absolutely amazing at it. (No offense to my sister, who is a ridiculously awesome mother.) So if he can do it, I can deep six my identity as a doctor and put my money where my mouth is and actually put into practice what I’ve always said, which is that my job won’t ever define me. My family will.

And I’m sure I’m not the only one. I’m sure there are men and women everywhere putting their careers on hold or even in the coffin, because they also feel their families are worth it, and that’s where the need is. My wife is needed in the hospital. Badly. So that means I’m needed at home. To all the men and women who have walked this road before me, I have huge respect for you and I hope to do you honor following well in your footsteps, but I can’t guarantee I’ll be any good at it.

So here we go… I see lots of unsavory meals, sketchy laundry, mislearnt homeschool lessons, destroyed living rooms and many other misadventures in the future. But I will do my absolute best. And I know Danae will too.