Sunday, September 18, 2016


I kind of get the feeling I am 'stuck' between the old and the new.

Yesterday was one example.

In my heart of hearts, whenever it is a weekend, in my heart I look forward to a little bit of fun. Some relaxation.

But I am a physician, and some weekends I must work. This full moon was one of them.   I got called in for two elective cases (not true surgical emergencies, but the surgeon booked them--this is a 'rule' that is sort of being 'ignored' lately).   I came in and got them done. But with the last one--didn't you hear?

About what?

About a GI case? Okay I went upstairs and did it. No big deal.

My day was 'free'. I used the quotation marks because when that phone rings I must drop everything and come right back in.

Well Cecil hadn't eaten, and his favorite place for mice is the shop where he is from, right down the street from my hospital.

I bought a plastic container/cage for the two feeder mice to ride home.  I also got a plastic bag to cover them as I had one more errand to run, and I didn't want to leave them in the hot car.

The clerk looked at me with surprise and said, 'They are FEEDER MICE! It's not animal cruelty if they die in the sun in the car.'

Funny, I thought it was. And I said, 'I want to keep them fresh for Cecil.'

Besides, dead mice in the car in the sun would stink to high heaven!

My errand was to look for a cordial liquor, Suze, which my family serves in France as an aperitif. It's herbal flavored and since it is imported, very hard to find. My online search showed only three carriers have it, one in New York, one in the Bay Area, and one here.

Fortunately I found a shady spot, and left the mice in the car, and was quick.  I also found a Vallee de Loire blackberry flavored one. So I bought two bottles of Suze, as spirit said, and one of the other.

I took PCH home. Because I can. And because spirit says I need more Beach or Water. I wanted to get a feel for it.

There was one turn in Laguna Beach with a view of a beach that was breathtaking!

Corona Del Mar is a nice town, too. And of course, twenty years ago, I had dreamed to buy a home, a little spanish style one, in Newport Coast.  We had seen the models. That's where all the doctors live. At least most of the ones I work with.

Once I got home, where it is more woodsy, I felt at home. And my house just supports me. This morning there was fog, and I adore the fog in the trees.

At a loss, I said the prayer Tim says, 'Thank you for this or something better'. I can't imagine anything better than this.

I think the reason I need to move is that huge huge huge apartment buildings are coming up all over the place near where I live. They are messing up the energy that feeds me. They are also creating more traffic and crowds at the local businesses. And besides, they are butt ugly and they piss me off because beautiful trees or happy strip malls or golf courses used to be there before, and I don't like it.

So I need 'air'. Ocean air, or lake air, but something to do with the water.

Remember what I said about the phone?

Yup. It rang. I was about twenty minutes from the house and BOOM! There is a quick appendix.

I had MICE in the CAR!

I excused myself and said I needed to 'drop something off at home that would go bad in the car' first.  I tried to feed snake. He's the funniest animal. Goes for months without eating and scares the daylights out of me. He looks all hungry but he's scared of the mice. So back in the cage he goes. And spirit said to just dump the mice in the aquarium (it's dry and I've raised mice there) in the bird's room with a little food and no water (there was one bottle hanging already and filled, I'd forgotten)--and GO to my work.

I had a quick snack first--Honey Dijon potato chips, two handfuls (Anthony likes these for some reason I don't)--and I brought a gatorade, leftover chicken breast, and rosemary olive bread into the car.  I ate dinner on the road and the gatorade was a big PLUS.

Quick cases aren't quick for anesthesia. There is setup and handoff involved. I had rounded on my inpatients from Friday after the GI case. The complication was okay, not bad, and being worked up.

I asked a member of the heart team about her care, as a double-check. She said that the hospitalist was good and he only contacts the heart team when they need to do an intervention, something invasive. She looked STRESSED. And I don't mean 'desserts spelled backwards'--she was total Type A in Stress Mode and Overwhelm and probably buying herself a ticket to her own services if you know what I mean?  (I, on the other hand was the most Type B out of all the women in my medical school class--by far. Kind of nice personality to have when you do anesthesia, isn't it?)

That kind of asking and double checking is something a physician or nurse who is good will do for you and you'll never know and never pay for it.

It's because they care.

I like what I do, and I enjoy it.

I was a little annoyed when Dr. Joel booked two more 'quick cases'. There isn't anything different about a 'quick case' except for a surgeon rushing you. The set up for anesthesia is the same--equipment, drugs, review of the medical information in the chart, and interviewing the patient.

With the first case that wasn't Dr. Joel's, he was watching the surgeon operate the whole time to rush him. And that surgeon performed beautifully. He is at the top of his game, today.

Dr. Joel's techniques, although excellent, aren't exactly the same as the standard of care as the others. This is because he likes to do his appendectomy open--and the vast majority of them prefer to do them with the laparoscope. He can do a lap cholecystectomy. He knows the instruments. And he's very good. It's just funny how the practice of medicine can change over the course of a career.

One patient was a jewel to me. I'd cared for two of my patients I had last night, for other cases before. I saw my name in the record. But the jewel was special because she was dying. It was the saddest case when we worked on her before, and the entire operating room was very quiet and sad during her case. I want you to know this. I'm sharing just enough so you will know without a doubt we have hearts, we enjoy and like our patients, and we want them to do well.

When something bad happens, be it disease or something with the surgery that is unexpected--we take it VERY HARD.

We are a caring profession.

And caring people are sad when something sad is going on.

My jewel has the most amazing and beautiful family. And I could see the love they had for her, and the patience. She was in intractable pain, and I gave thanks for the wonder of anesthesia, to give her a few moments of peace. Then as I did my services, I began to pray, and to ask Ross to be good to her. I am so incredibly thankful to him and his teams who coordinate all the 'comings and goings' of people who are incarnate here on earth. I asked Azrael to assist too. It is hard to say goodbye, even when you know medically there's not much time left.

Just the recognition and the smiles that I was there for her again made me feel like a million dollars; all the inconvenience and pain and hunger and not being able take care of my bodily needs just went away...

I was tested last night.

I was sorely tested.  Cases finished at midnight.

I didn't want to sleep in the recovery room. It's uncomfortable and loud. People walk through there all the time.

I knew I shouldn't sleep in my car. It's not safe, nor is it right.

Earlier I had remembered that our trauma surgeons used to stay at a hotel across the street to be immediately available. I went on a travel app and tried to book a room but I couldn't.

So I drove just to see.

Oh my gosh the energy of that place was so low!  All the smokers were outside by their cars smoking cigarettes. The energy was uneducated partier.

I didn't want to go. A nurse said I had forgotten to write orders. I offered to drive back. She said not to worry, fix it once I got home, by remote access.

I sat in the car in the parking lot of the hotel--stay? go? recovery room? home?

I walked to the desk and asked if they had a room? When I walked into the front I was amazed at the shapes and sizes and level of intoxication of everyone who was in the lobby. It was worse than peanuts and beer. It was like, skittles and hard lemonade and shots to make them drunk. Just icky. There was fake grass to make the lobby look 'modern' with the furniture and it all looked fake, cheap, and ironic to see the partiers all draped across the furniture like that. It was loud and just unpleasant. Even the clerk had to shout to me so I could hear what she had to say, and we were normal speaking distance apart.

There was no room available.  Even though my travel site said there were three.

Back to the car. What do I do?

The desk lady said to go to the next one down the road.  But that was practically home!

So, alert, I drove home, taking the risk of being called back in.

Ross was mysteriously QUIET on that one.

My lesson is, I deserve a good place to sleep--not a car--and it's for my work. I can plan it in advance if I like. last night...I can be lucky and sleep the rest of the night through in my own bed!

Ross asked me pointedly about the energy of those people at the hotel.

It was a no-brainer.

I said, 'it is not welcome any more here on earth!'

Again, he pressed me, 'why?'

I had a 5D to 3D word translation problem. Basically, I can't recall how I communicated enough to tell you word for word, but the 'gist' of it is that you need to be clear headed and focused to learn your lessons.  A glass of wine with dinner or a nice night out once in a while is no big deal. But THIS cohort of people just live to party, and they are not working on their life lessons--or helping Gaia--not one bit! 

They are slackers!

He seemed content with my explanation, and didn't judge. 

I think this is another one of those Galactic 'fact finding' missions where someone up there doesn't like the way things are going, and they want to 'check with me' first and 'hear it from my mouth' in order to comply with what is asked of them by the Galactics.   The beings from Orion are notorious about that, and I've had many a harassment from them on Spirit side--official, diplomatic insistence that they bulldoze over my wishes and get their way. All of which--friendly and polite--I sidestep entirely and insist on what is for the greatest good--and that's change which they don't like! Then I thank them very diplomatically for their 'patience' and 'good will' or something like that, and I just go. I walk away from many a meeting out of sheer frustration as a Galactic. I don't make it look like I'm frustrated at all. But once a meeting isn't going anywhere, it's pointless, and I say, to my teams, 'can I go?'  If I can't, then I emotionally check out. So, either way, they've gotten used to my running out of patience, and just now let me go.

This morning on the way to work Ross wanted to send our healing to everyone on the planet incarnate--not just the humans.

I was like, 'Can we really?' I know we send out healings to a vast network of souls every day. But he was up for it.  And sometimes when we send a healing, he holds my right arm up and things come out of it and he aims me like a gun (gently--it's hard to describe).. For the longest time my arm was green laser coming out of it (I'm blue and he is gold in our light)... the time before last, surprisingly, it was pure blue.  

This time startled even Ross, and he had to just look at it and admire it with a smile for himself, he was so happy he couldn't believe it!

Little particles of diamond like one carat each started to spray out of my arm like rain.

And it's still flowing!  

This is in spirit, and not in 3D.  But I loved his delighted reaction, and for a cool, calm, imperturbable galactic, he reacted just like one of us who is super stoked and happy...and that made ME super happy too.

Here is a cool article in Anesthesiology, the journal of our specialty. It is about being on ketamine (and not having a nice trip)--Ketamine opens the crown chakra. (other drugs open/affect other ones). I don't recommend tripping out on 'Special K' for spiritual development. Not at all. But many light workers are experiencing COLORS and higher D things. That's what this doctor who was a patient 'saw' too. Here is a by-the-book MD describing something metaphysical he is perceiving through a chemical--it's kind of neat that the journal published it--here's the link:

For some reason Ross is very pleased with this blog post. I'm not sure why. But he is very smart. And I know when he's pleased like this, something important for the good just happened.


(he clears his throat, pauses, and clears his throat again.  He wants me to talk about Lauren.--

my niece is in the hospital again. She is in rejection of her kidney. They are trying strong medicines to stop it. There has been a biopsy that says this has been going on for a long time.

I told my sister and Lauren it's not their fault.

This is a pretty serious thing, the kidney was from her father and it's dying. She will have to go on dialysis--either hemodialysis or peritoneal dialysis--or she will die in four days without kidney function.

My mom has a kidney, and she was surprised at how casual the doctors were for her granddaughter ever since the transplant went in--she said, 'they treat it like it's just a headache but it's really life and death! where is the regimen, the discipline, the patient instruction like at UCLA?!'

All these years in medicine have taught me one important thing--when it's awful--that's bad enough. There is no reason on earth to put the blame game on top of it. It just is.

And you know, with everything there is a silver lining.

I'm not sure Lauren could carry a child to term on those anti-rejection meds. Or with the baby weighing on the graft kidney with the huge uterus--the kidney is in the pelvis too, you know?

And dialysis at least is without those anti-rejection meds. It's slow. And three times a week. It's not fun, but maybe Lauren needs a change.

I had an Aunt who had terrible teeth. They were so ugly and brown. It wasn't just from her smoking. When she was little she was afraid of the dentist. She refused to go every time her parents made her go. After years of this--they stopped taking her.

Her fear took away her beautiful smile.  Her teeth didn't fall out. But they were ruined enough she never smiled all the way, always with her lips closed to hide them.

My father, on the other hand, had strong teeth and took care of them. They were crooked, but he never had a single cavity his whole life.

Everyone is different, and everyone has their lessons, and although it's tragic what is happening to Lauren and her father's kidney, if everyone LEARNS from the situation, then it was not a total loss.

Sometime's that is what it takes to be a 'wake up call', you know?

That's why we live many incarnations. The lessons here are so difficult sometimes it takes more than one lifetime to learn. They are beautiful and valid things to learn, to help a soul expand its consciousness to be more compassionate, more grounded, and more connected to source and to others...

Ross clears his throat again. He points as if to say one moment. Now he applauds and hugs me. He says you have just given your first lesson as an Ascended Master.

I'm kind of caught off guard right now. Ross I am a whaaaat?

He points and says, 'you are like me' and smiles.)

clap! clap!

Aloha and mahalos,

Ross and Carla
The Couple