Sigh. My sister has started a blog. She is witty and has always been able to make a blank page come alive. I am fascinated by this glimpse into her medical life. But I am also made aware of her big brain and the non-sister very serious intense undertaking that is her career.
While I try to blog about my mundane day of needle felting or painting all by myself without so much as a change of scenery, my sister is recounting medical miracles, surgical intensity, lives in the balance, and silly or gross anecdotes, from her school, residency, internship, and practice, all the while using detailed medical jargon and impressive doctorish wisdom.
I will continue to write. I'm not the type to throw up my hands and walk away. If you have not read her blog, I might be safe. If you have, I will do my best to convince you that my felting needles are the instruments upon which the fates of my needle felted critters' lives hang. And the tiny shaped details can only be pulled from the wool by my deft hands. Then there are the complicated mechanics of my easel; only the precise angle and tension can cradle the surface properly to facilitate the potential flow of creativity like a breath or pulse. Any minute I might be met with a creative crisis which threatens my art's very existence!
We each have our calling. Thank you to the doctors of the world. Have you hugged your doctor today?