Category: Mr. Plastic Picker (My Real Life Romance)

May 23, 2021

by drplasticpicker

Yesterday was just a wonderful Saturday. Absolutely wonderful. I’m now looking at the trash art peice “Foxy Lady” that I made in the early morning, and she really looks how I feel. Eyes closed. Gliding through life. Wine cork limbs made from wine-corks friends sent me. But that is how I felt yesterday, how she looked. My mother said she was beautiful. Foxy Lady is body positive because her body does not conform to conventional ideals of beauty, yet her eyes are closed and she is looking inward. And that heart of hers and that soul or hers is happy, and deep down happiness is beautiful. She worked really hard to get back to that peace.

I’m sitting at 6am, later than my usual 3-4am blogging. I had ideas of several blog posts and as the readership knows, Dr. Plastic Picker is passionate about writing/blogging. But Mr. Plastic Picker had a hard day yesterday, and I decided to crawl back into bed with my lawfully wed husband and our 12-pound puppy and hug him and puppy. And I was blessed with another full sleep cycle. I woke up refreshed albeit a bit later than usual. I usually go to bed pretty early these days.

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May 10, 2021

by drplasticpicker

I’m done with being afraid. It makes sense for some to be afraid, if you’ve lived through abuse, been hungry, worried about being able to survive the next day. I get it. I am lucky. I have had difficult moments to overcome in life that made me fearful. We all have especially women. It makes sense to be cautious when you are worried about survival. But now that I’m on the other side of what is the “Fear Zone” and into the “Learning and Growth Zone” I don’t want to go back.

If not me, than who? I declared that I was going to help save the earth by gathering one pieace of plastic at a time and I’m almost to 500 bags! I’ve encouraged a movement of climate activism in my small corner of the world and we’ve made real changes. Some of this is about plastic, but it’s also a metaphor about life. Not to waste life. Not to waste resources. To be creative. To free ourselves from the conventional life and conventional thinking, it order to tap into that authenic self in order to find true contentment and also to help save the earth. It’s all related.

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February 25, 2021

by drplasticpicker

It’s 2AM and technically a new day. I had fallen asleep early as I was curled up in a ball, processing some work decisions I had to make. Medicine is hard. I’ve had to make some tough calls morally, and I made the right one. But I had to go to sleep as sleep is restorative. My daughter asked to read something to me, and I just did not have anything left. It had been a long day at clinic as well, supposed to end at 2pm but for me stretched to 5pm after calling local authorities to do a wellfare check. I hardly ever turn away from my children especially the youngest who was born so early, but I had nothing left yesterday. She quietly left and closed the door after I turned her away, and her father followed her to help her with her question. The handsome college junior , my college sweetheart Mr. Plastic Picker came back later and hugged me and told me to go to sleep. We are on the same career track and he has similar situations at work, so he understood my moral fatigue. We are a good team.

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December 21, 2020

by drplasticpicker

Mr. Plastic Picker’s mother turned 80 this weekend and we had a small family party. Our small family party included buying a pumpkin pie from Sprouts (we had all been wanting to eat one for a while and there was very little plastic), singing Happy Birthday while our tween daughter played on the piano, and shooting the requisite pictures to send to family members. We then ended by eating said pumpkin pie before dinner which is pure luxuriousness. It was a standard 9 inch pumpkin pie so just enough for everyone in our 6 person family (excluding pets who can’t eat pie) to have one piece and an extra bite.

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December 12, 2020

by drplasticpicker

The brute force cyber attacks from a French IP have stopped, for now. I’m being more careful with the security of this site, because this blog and my work is important. Greta Thunberg posted on her Instagram Account a picture in Berlin with the following hashtag illuminated with candles, #fightfor1point5 . That reminded me that ultimately that is the goal. We are fighting to keep global temperature rise below 1.5 degrees. We certainly have hope with the Biden/Harris administration, but there is still much to be done. Cyber attacks from France. All Non-Vegetarian and Non-Vegan lunches yesterday from Panera at our clinic meeting (I need to talk to RN Plastic Picker). At least here were no plastic water bottles. Two steps forward and one step back.

Mr. Plastic Picker took our son to a long awaited specialty appointment for a minor private issue. I had made the diagnoses for my son already (I am a pediatrician) but he wanted to see the pediatric surgical specialist, who happens to be a boy I grew up with in the South Bay and know from high school days. Mr. Plastic Picker was effusive about said former boy I knew from high school now pediatric surgical subspecialist, and my son told me when I got home, “It was good to have a professional examine me.” This is all parts hilarious for various reasons, and especially that Mr. Plastic Picker was effusive in his praise for said specialist. I’ll keep the backstory to myself, but let’s just say its one of those innocent highschool moments and memories that I hope my children have as well. I hugged my very handsome Mr. Plastic Picker yesterday and I love the two men in my life dearly. I live in my own internal world at times and find humor in the running storylines that I see everywhere. My family knows that about me now.

So for now Dr. Plastic Picker has eluded further cyber attacks, and a high school friend was able to reassure my son about his good health because said high school friend is “a professional” unlike Dr. Plastic Picker, who is Assistant Boss of Pediatrics. But we will leave it at that. It felt very nice to have my teen son reassured. At the end of the visit with Mr. Plastic Picker and Pediatric Surgical Subspecialist, my teen son did say to them both because Pediatric Surgical Subspecialist asked my son what his favorite subject was. He said to those two upstanding men, “Oh Dad. I forgot to tell you I also got the English Pin last year.” Our son had been awarded several academic distinctions but his favorite subject is English like his father. And with that the two men in my life left that office, and I felt good knowing a kind boy I grew up with cared for my son. And that same boy has a beautiful wife and family that he is going home to as well.

I’m definitely going to the beach this morning to get a big bag of trash! Its 526am and it’s pitch dark outside, so I just have to wait until there is enough light.

December 7, 2020

by drplasticpicker

Mr. Plastic Picker was sitting at the dinner table last night. He had worked another 12 hour overtime shift on the weekend. He was able to work from his home-office and the shift was not bad. I did not work other than catching up on a few messages and results. I’m really good about turning things off on the weekend now. Between Friday night at 530pm and Sunday at 4pm, really as an outpatient pediatrician I should not have to check my inbox. So I haven’t and it’s been fine. When I do check it, my brain is more efficient and I’m able to close charts and deal with clinical matters more efficiently. A good and focused brain is a really helpful thing. Plogging, eating a plant-rich diet mostly home-cooked, making trash art and sleeping better has really healed my brain. I was part of a UC Berkeley Premed Honor Society Career Panel yesterday, and I knew I was almost as smart as their undergraduates doing MCB (their acronym for Molecular and Cellular Biology). Super nice kids.

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December 5, 2020

by drplasticpicker

Can I tell you a Dr. Plastic Picker secret? It’s not that our two children go to private school. Most of my patient families know that as I’m open about that when they ask me questions. I myself went to a stellar suburban public school, and had mixed feelings about sending them to private school. From my suburban public school I was probably better equipped then most of my prep school classmates at Crimson University. Dr. Plastic Picker’s secret is that I don’t really like many of the other parents who have also send their kids to our same private school. About a quarter I really like, but three-quarters I can’t stand. When I have to interact with those parents as a fellow parent, I sometimes question our choice. But it’s the price I pay to send my kids to private school. But now that I think about it, I’m sure every parent at any type of school probably feels the same way about our fellow parents. So maybe Dr. Plastic Picker’s secret isn’t much of a secret?

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