So, I drove 5 hours to Deer Lake and hopped on a direct Westjet flight to Toronto. One of my top priorities was to eat out because I have been deprived of good ethnic food for the last 2 months. As soon as I arrived Dad whisked us to our regular restaurant for some good Chinese food: The Perfect Restaurant at Brimley and Sheppard. I had a Vietnamese lunch with Mom at Pho Hung and then spent the day with a friend who had just purchased a house. On Sunday we went shopping for non-perishable Chinese groceries to bring back to Newfoundland -- I packed a whole suitcase full of noodles, glutinous rice, mushrooms, dried shrimp, and mooncakes. Sunday night I had dinner with the extended family. I didn't get a chance to eat sushi or Thai food so I'll be keeping an eye out for those restaurants when I head out to St. John's in October.
On Monday Dad and I hopped on the same Westjet flight back out to Deer Lake. It was a pretty uneventful flight although I was a little worried since the remnants of hurricane Ike were going to be along the route. (What is it with me and hurricanes?). Deer Lake was gusty on arrival -- the last time I had this rocky a descent was roughly 20 years ago when I was in a 747 that was trying to land in Hong Kong during a thunderstorm. The passengers broke out in applause when the pilot landed. After loading up my car we stopped at the best Chinese restaurant on the west side of Newfoundland in Deer Lake. Dad thought his wonton soup had too much MSG while I thought my Cantonese chow mein was too salty.
Fortunately, the weather was reasonable and actually cleared up towards the latter half of the trip. Dad was able to get good views while driving through Gros Morne. He commented frequently on how barren the place looked: "You can't grow much on rock". He also noted the economically depressed nature of the area and how difficult it would be run a successful business.
With the shorter days of Autumn this was one of my first opportunities to experience driving at night in rural Newfoundland. You definitely develop an appreciation for high beams and also respecting the speed limit when in moose-infested areas. Unfortunately, I also discovered my second pet peeve of driving in Newfoundland -- the high beam etiquette and adherence to high beam regulations were atrocious! Roughly 50% of all the oncoming vehicles drove with their high beams on all the time and didn't bother to switch to low beams when close to other vehicles. I saw one truck tailgating a car with its high beams on. I've heard stories that not only will the other drivers not respond to flashing your high beams on and off but some will even drive with them on in town! The glare is pretty bad and it destroys your night vision for precious seconds (not good when you're looking for a brown moose in pitch black night).
This leads to an interesting ethical dilemma -- what should I do if I see some ignoramus coming at me with their high beams on despite my desperate attempts to signal them? The Torontonian in me tells me to high beam them right back. This is probably the best and only time to wake these drivers up. I'll just wait until the get within 50 feet and then I'll high beam them. Of course, I'll feel very guilty if I cause an accident (and there's the old adage: 2 wrongs don't make a right). I'm going to think about this one.
We arrived in St. Anthony in one piece and I went to work the next day. I deliberately made the trip short (2 nights) because I figured Dad could only handle so much time away from work and Chinese food and, yes, I could only handle living with Dad again for so much time. I was on call the second night and usually it's very quiet but that plan backfired. I had an urgent orthopedic case on an 8 year old which dragged on into the late evening. Despite that I did have time to quickly drive Dad up to L'Anse aux Meadows and around town. He also had time to wander around town by himself.
As I anticipated, this was also an opportunity for Dad to give a tete-a-tete. Although I appreciate the fact that he's worried and he wants to help, I still get a visceral reaction during these talks and particularly when he's in "lecture mode" or when I think he's way off base. A wise man once said that people will only accept advice if they think the person giving it truly understands them.
First, he said that if I was truly unhappy, then I should feel free to quit medicine and come home....and take over the family business. While I gratefully appreciate the former (better late than never) I can only wince at the latter (he still doesn't get it).
Second, he gave a variation of his "you'll learn to like it" lecture. He enjoys watching the Discovery channel and there's this one show in particular he brings up: Dirty Jobs. (For those who don't know, Dirty Jobs is a weekly show where the host signs up for, yup, dirty and generally disgusting jobs). He commended this guy for showing true grit and setting a good example for others; if he could do such utterly gutterly jobs, why, I should be able to handle being a doctor. I could only sit in stunned silence: I'm being compared to the guy on Dirty Jobs?!
Third, he advised that I shouldn't be so stressed out and I should try to chill out more. Well, this is yet another display of his total lack of comprehension of what being a physician is truly like. "Don't worry be happy" will only get a doctor in trouble. As an anesthetist, I'm paid to worry. Mind you, one of the main reasons I chose anesthesia was the "on/off" nature of the stress involved and the off switch is still working (to my everlasting relief). Although I agree with his advice in general, it is still off the mark -- if he didn't want to see his kids getting stressed out then he made a big mistake in pushing medicine as a career choice. Unfortunately, Dad has a tendency to minimize stress and can't seem to empathize whenever I complain about stress (mind you he hasn't had an easy life himself).
Lastly, he suggested I be more gregarious and extroverted. This is probably a fundamental difference of opinion: he clearly believes it's easy and possible to change one's personality whereas I think it's more intrinsic and would require an inordinate amount of effort. I've figured out during my 30-odd years that when I try to be extroverted I not only think I come across as being fake but I actually feel fake -- it feels quite unnatural and it also makes me more anxious. I don't think he realizes that I'm the type who prefers to have a few deep friendships instead of a gazillion acquaintances.
To my relief, he did not bring up the topic of marriage although I did make it clear to him that after pressuring me into medicine I was not going to let him interfere with my happiness. I also managed to get something else off my chest -- I gave him a blow-by-blow description of what he did the night I was applying to university. (Hopefully he'll stop denying that he ever pressured me into anything).
And so, I think the problem can be distilled to the following: Dad doesn't understand me and the last thing I want right now is a well-meaning but somewhat ignorant parent with a poor track record pressuring me and telling me what he thinks I should do with my future. However, Dad, being the quintessential Chinese parent, won't back off.
The next day I drove Dad out to the local airport. Fortunately, the weather was great and there were no delays. I was a little worried that he'd have trouble making the connecting flight in an unfamiliar airport and with a language barrier. But, the flights were on-time, St. John's airport is only a single terminal, I warned him in advance not to walk through any large doors or take any stairs, and he made the connection easily.
Next post: Anesthesia School and Curling (maybe)!
