Relax. No one cares, and that's a good thing.

I've been obsessed with stumbleupon, the website which takes you to random pages around the 'net that match a list of interests and subjects you compile. I listed about 65 topics, so I'm not overwhelmed by the repetitiveness of it all. One of those interests in psychology.

Today a gem of an articled called, "It's Not All About You" stumbled its way into my browser. The title might make it seem like it's an article for narcissists, or people who are obsessed with being the center of attention. It's not. It's for those of us who can absolutely loathe being the center of attention. Those of us who obsess about that one "social error" at that party a year ago. Those of us who worry about what other people think of us. In other words, most of us.

"A growing body of research shows that far fewer people notice our gaffes than we believe as we pace the floor in private, going over and over the faux pas. And those who do notice judge us less harshly than we imagine. In a series of groundbreaking studies over the last two years, psychologists have shown that the "spotlight effect," as they call it, is a universal experience that distorts our egocentric notion about the degree to which people in groups, like parties and work gatherings, pay attention to us ... our self-absorption not only creates a false spotlight, it also results in an exaggeration about how we are judged."

1. Fewer people notice our gaffes than we think.

2. People don't judge us nearly as harshly as we imagine.

3. We are all self-absorbed.

The flip side of the coin is also true. People don't notice our clever arguments and witticisms as much as we think they do either. Damn.

We are good at moderating our judgments about each other. When a friend has an embarrassing moment at a party we feel empathy and sympathy. If we're at the same event, we'll work hard to smooth things over, if necessary.

If we're the one who makes the mistake -- and that's all it is, a mistake -- let the rambling self-criticism begin.

How do we turn this into a win? Simple. You've already done it.

"In a report due out this year, psychologists find for the first time that simple awareness of this native oversensitivity can improve how people do when they actually are in the spotlight."

Party season is coming up. Go forth, be merry and dance like there's nobody watching.

There isn't.

(Of course, the above only applies in real life. If you happen to be a celebrity, or dumb enough to go on a reality show, beware. All empathy and sympathy is gone. You are signing up to be made fun of for a living by the least generous of us. TV watchers.)

What's Your Worldview?

Double-click on the graphic below to make it big enough to read. if you're brave enough, post your "label" in the comments. Me? Apparently I'm a humanist/existentialist. Choosing just one path is so...doctrinal.

Beautiful Fotos 4: Red Roses

Squinting down 40

My 40th birthday this year is on a Friday evening, and if you live anywhere close to Fort Collins you are invited to the yet-to-be-planned-by-my-husband party. It will be a blast, and the actual act of turning 40 is going to be all smiles.

And I'm sure once the day has passed, being 40 will settle in just like every other milestone has.

But things are not looking good, pardon the pun.

I've taken to wearing reading glasses. I bought a pair early in the year when I was doing lots of cratfy needlework and sewing.

But now I'm wearing them for everyday reading. Books, magazines, and especially the stack of printouts I have to look through and proof every day at work.

Lots of people wear glasses, but only old people wear glasses.

Hello, old.

How Doctors Treat Us (Video at the End)

I've had a lot of contact with physicians recently. It's been about a month since my mountain biking accident, where I broke 5 ribs. I saw a nurse at the Winter Park Resort clinic; two different doctors and twice as many nurses at Harmony Urgent Care, numerous X-ray techs, and, yesterday, a doctor at my normal family doctor's office -- though not my regular doctor. I made the appointment on short notice; you get whoever is available.

This is how I would rate them all, on a scale of 1-10:

Winter Park Nurse - 8

Urgent Care Doc, round 1 - 8

Urgent Care nurses, round 1 - 9

Urgent Care X-ray tech, round 1 - 7

Urgent Care Doc, round 2 - 9

Urgent Care Nurses, round 2 - 10

Urgent Care X-ray tech, round 2 - 9

Doctor's Office Doc - 3

Doctor's Office Nurse - 7

X-Ray Tech, Round 3 - 7

All pretty average, non-notable encounters with health care professionals, except where I've highlighted those who were on the opposite ends of the scale. All of these appointments have me thinking a lot about what makes a good doctor. What's good doctoring? We go to health care professionals for care -- how do they care for us? How do we know that they care about us?

Let's review out highest and lowest scorers in an attempt to answer this question.

When Docs Get It Right - Our High-Scorers

The two doctors at the urgent care were very much alike. They were both male, in their 60s, and grey-haired. If I were asked to tell them apart from each other in a line-up today, I'm not sure I could. They wore the traditional doctor's costume -- white lab coats with their names embroidered over the breast pocket. Old School. I imagine that they could have easily been jaded about their profession and certainly about the people who come into their clinic. I imagine they've seen all of Fort Collins' hypochondriac's and drug-seekers on a regular basis.

But they were kind, understanding, and compassionate. They took the time to listen to my descriptions of my accident and symptoms, and they didn't interrupt too often. Unusual for this day and age, neither of them carried laptop computers. or even pens and paper. Just stethoscopes slung around their necks. They weren't there to take notes -- they were there to take care of their patient.

The process at the urgent care enabled this doctor/patient interaction. A nurses' assistant first took me back to the exam space and took all of my vital signs. Then a Physician's Assistant came in and took my history, went over the medical records on file. He took pen and paper notes and had printouts to refer to. I assume that the doctors received all of this information to review before he saw me. Even more important, they didn't have to spend their time with me on these details. They could devote themselves to patient care. Their examinations were hands-on and thorough.

When Doctoring Goes Wrong

My recovery has been an up and down progress, but I've been feeling a bit better recently. Until a few nights ago when things went downhill and stayed down. So I called my regular doc's office and asked for an appointment. Seeing my regular doc on such short notice is out of the question, so I took whatever was available. I like this practice. I've been there for a few years and have never had a bad experience, until yesterday.

Much like the urgent care, the nurse who escorted me to the exam room took all of my vitals and asked for the basics of why I was there. The doc arrived a few minutes later. We sat in chairs at first. She had a laptop, which I've come to expect, even gotten used to -- every doctor at this practice carries one into appointments.

What was different this time was how much attention the doctor paid to the laptop and how little she paid to me. I went through the full history of my injury, from accident to the moment the pain again turned severe. I gestured. I used my hands to point specifically to where the pain was -- and where it had moved to -- and the entire time I was talking she was looking at her laptop screen.

Not typing and glancing occasionally at her laptop screen.

Not making eye contact with me when she asked questions and then looking down as she typed.

She almost never looked up at all.

I became acutely aware of her behavior because it seemed to unusual.

She was transcribing, not listening.

I made more eye contact with the man who accompanied her -- a guy going medical coding -- than I did with her. I was hoping her was observing her to grade her. He seemed to notice her lack of attention to me as well.

Her physical examination was cursory and impersonal. her stethoscope never touched my skin, and she never actually felt my rips. Even though I had told her, more than once, that lying on my back caused the most pain and that my breathing felt different and even sounded different in that position. A few cursory presses on my abdomen and she was done. I didn't even get a good helping hand for the very painful process of sitting up.

I left angry, disappointed and most of all, feeling quite ignored.

The Answer?

Te doctor-patient relationship is just that -- a relationship, and how a doctor relates to a patient sets the tone for everything that follows.

This doctor, I believe, does have the answer, and I wish my physician yesterday had seen this video or at least been taught some critical people skills. Take 18 minutes to watch:

Living in Jewish Time

There's an inside joke at our synagogue. Whenever we have an interfaith event with one of the local churches, the Christians show up 5-10 minutes before the announced start time; the Jews show up 5-10 minutes (or more) later. This is because we operate on "Jewish Standard Time." The bar mitzvah begins at 9:00? Show up at 10:00 -- they won't even be at the Torah service yet. Synagogues fill up as the events go on, and empty out as they wane.

But there is another kind of Jewish time -- living your life by the Jewish calendar.

For the past five years I have been keenly aware of Jewish time. On any given day I could tell you what the date on the Hebrew calendar was, how many days until the next holiday and the corresponding Torah portion for the week. My life was structured around these ebbs and flows. Lesson plans had to be made, programs designed, supplies ordered. No Jewish holiday could sneak up on the religious school director.

The holiday of Sukkot began at sundown tonight and I was a complete non-participant. We have not put up a sukkah. We did not go to the synagogue opening night celebration. I did not purchase a lulav and etrog, and I have no real plans to celebrate the holiday in any way. Now, i have good excuses for all of these lapses. The broken ribs (kvetch, kvetch); my son being away for the last two days and wanting to skip Hebrew School; being swamped at work, etc. But they are not reasons; they are indeed excuses.

It's quite the conundrum. I want to be more motivated. I actually want to want to be more motivated. Jewish time can be really fun. I love Sukkot. Ever since I was introduced to the pomegranate during my Hebrew School days, it's been near the top of my list. We build a hut. In our yard. And look at the stars!

But this year it's just not enticing enough, and a completely new real life has intruded upon my Jewish Time. Incorporating Jewish life into my home was a piece of cake compared to the work I had to do for the school and community celebrations. Now it's work on top of work, even if all I have to do is show up.

I feel much more empathy for the Religious School families who didn't attend my well-planned events over the years. I am sure tonight's celebration was a ton of fun for parents and kids alike, but it just didn't fit into our Non-Jewish Time.

The Jewish calendar is a combination of calendars. It is based on the lunar cycle, but the rabbis added elements of the solar calendar as well, to keep the holidays in the right seasons. Intercalation.

Maybe it's time to intercalate our calendars: Schaibly, HP, Abraxis, Laurel, Cub Scouts, Girl Scouts, Music Lessons, Parents...and Jewish.

Chag sameach Sukkot!

Beautiful Fotos 3: Rainbow clouds over Everest