The Stress Test

The last few weeks have been trying for me and Peter, both as individuals and as a couple. As we entered Memorial Day weekend, we expected some reprieve. We hoped for time to decompress, work on some long-awaited projects, and spend quality time together. Instead, we were met with a dumpster fire of more stress. Through the convergence of work, family, and health related disturbances, we found ourselves struggling with missed connections, emotional upsets, and more difficulty with relationship repair.

Every year, the psychiatrists within my organization divvy up the holidays to take call. With the number of psychiatrists we have, holiday call is usually very well managed. I thought Memorial Day weekend would be a breeze, especially since it is not something I (and many others apparently) would not consider a major holiday. In my experience, psychiatric presentations wax and wane with various seasons of the year, holidays included. For example, summer time coincidentally has fewer children and adolescents in the psychiatric emergency room than does autumn and winter. Perhaps from my own bias, I’ve noticed even more granular patterns within these trends (i.e. certain disorders flare up with certain holidays). I’ve never known Memorial Day to be a busy holiday. I’d be on call continuously between 5:00 PM on Friday until 8:00 AM on Tuesday.

To top it off, Orange County was facing its own crisis with a chemical plant malfunction with potential for explosion and release of toxins into the surrounding neighborhoods. That weekend started with a small evacuation zone and notice that expanded over the course of Friday and Saturday. My parents live just miles outside of the perimeter. They can be wonderfully stubborn so convincing them to evacuate to my new apartment in SGV was a big ask. Eventually, however, they did agree to come join me in LA after much discussion. Even my brother who currently resides in Iowa pleaded with my parents to take a weekend getaway to LA.

In hindsight, the week, in some ways, was already primed to be hectic. Peter and I hosted Jackie for spring rolls on Wednesday and we stayed up far too late chatting, resulting in a snowball of poor sleep as we entered the weekend. We talked about a whole variety of issues, but much of it consisting of future plans. Many of the topics went on tangents into the bleak and dreary. Certainly, we couldn’t rest until we ended the conversation on a positive note. Our conversations often meandered into geopolitical happenings, which naturally is marred with negativity and pessimism.

Thursday and Friday flew by busy as ever. We ended Friday night with dinner and dessert with Peter’s parents and Jackie. The night once again went long with Peter’s parents reminiscing about raising him and his siblings. It was a very intimate evening, and I felt honored to be included as they reveled in their past memories. Peter apparently has always had a finicky tummy since infancy, leading to significant issues around feeding. It also led to significant issues with vomiting and diarrhea, the latter of which still plagues his life to this day. Then came Friday night: there was a flurry of incoming calls from the hospital, nearly one every hour. This made it impossible to get more than a few hours of consecutive shuteye. Peter graciously endured the overnight torment so that we may struggle through Saturday together.

Our Saturday started off with coffee and a walk with our friend and his partner. Fortunately, the morning was fairly quiet in terms of calls. We enjoyed coffee at a cute cafe in Highland Park like some wannabe hipsters. After making full use of their amenities (i.e. bougie scented bathroom), we walked around the neighborhood and window shopped until it was time to part ways. Peter and I made ourselves over to Costco for our weekly grocery shopping. I spent the majority of the late morning and early afternoon cooking and meal prepping for the week. Overall, not a bad day so far. We eventually did get to work on a few side items together until nighttime arrived.

The panic, however, slowly set in as more news of the chemical plant in OC developed. Ultimately, Peter and I drove down to OC to pick my parents up to stay at our apartment as my parents have difficulty driving up to LA, especially in the dark. It wasn’t until midnight that we were all back in SGV and ready for bed. We set up the main bedroom for my parents to retire ASAP, while I took the spare bed in our work den. Peter graciously left for his parents place so that my parents and I could have some privacy and more bathroom availability. My parents were hoping to host me and Peter for dinner on Sunday, but with the impending crisis, that had to be scratched. Luckily, they would be spending the weekend with us anyway. I eventually dozed off to sleep around 1:00 AM, only to be interrupted by several calls that evening. Exhausted as I was, I found comfort and solace in having peace of mind.

As the morning rays slowly woke me from my slumber, I heard a knock on my door. It was my mom looking to borrow my car at 6:30 AM that Sunday morning. My parents concocted the most brazen of ideas to drive back to OC so that they could pick up some tools, ingredients, and check on their garden. They could barely tolerate being away from home for more than a day. My mom was eager to cook us a nice homemade meal, and my dad was eager to fix up some of loose ends in my apartment. I begrudgingly obliged and gave them my car keys as I laid in bed fuming over their stubbornness. As fate would have it, I was called to go into the hospital at 8:00 AM—as soon as my parents left my apartment (along with my hospital badge that was tucked away in my car). Frustrated and stress built like a pressure cooker as I informed my parents. They would have only barely made it to OC before turning right back around. They were so apologetic and I felt badly to rain on their little excursion, even if it was back into what seemed like a ticking time bomb.

Peter ultimately offered to drive me into the hospital that Sunday morning so my parents could keep my car and have some semblance of freedom while staying with me in SGV. Work in the hospital on Sunday was fortunately very quick and easy. Peter quietly played his games while I saw a few patients. We departed shortly after and returned back to our apartment. My mom had been very diligent in the kitchen with a truckload of food prepared, much of it for me and Peter to freeze for easy meal prep. They wanted to host Peter’s family as well that evening, so we had a great homemade meal together that evening. Of course, we are always in the mood for dessert after a warm meal, so we walked to a nearby dessert shop—a good excuse to get our parents to get in steps amidst the cool afternoon breeze. The rest of the evening went smoothly as no further calls came in. For the first time in days, I would finally get some solid sleep.

Monday morning slowly rolled in. Peter and I invited my parents to walk around our neighborhood, eventually landing us at a nearby 99 Ranch Market. It was larger than your typical 99, and had so many different goodies. My parents loved perusing the steamed bao and baked goods section. The 99’s in OC are nowhere near the same level in scale or offerings. After a good 90 minute walk, Peter and I found ourselves back at our apartment just in time for our therapy session. Soon after, I had to go back to the hospital but just for a quick follow up on a patient. We could feel it in our bones that it would be a good day as we worked through the day. My parents kept themselves busy for the day with various activities, including fixing up our apartment and giving it a thorough cleaning.

Dinnertime rolled around and this time, we would go out to a popular duck restaurant. Peter’s parents invited everybody and we all happily accepted. It is not a cuisine we often have. After we were all adequately stuffed, our parents said their goodbyes. My parents were determined to return home that evening, especially as the chemical plant was more stabilized and the evacuation zone was slowly reducing. Peter and I drove them back down to OC on our full bellies, and promptly returned back to SGV to prepare for the looming work week. We were throughly exhausted at this point. It had felt like the weekend dissipated in just the blink of an eye.

Throughout this whole ordeal, we saw how difficult it could be to maintain effective channels of communication. It took a lot of deliberate and intentional effort to make sure we were always on the same page, or at least within the same ballpark. We had several long conversations to decompress and destress. It helped tremendously that we had a therapy session over this long weekend as well. Of note, sleeping separately, terribly ruined bedtime and workout routines, and being displaced from our living situations was a recipe for disaster. We typically compartmentalize well, but there were just too many pain points to ignore. It certainly helps as well that my mom left my apartment cleaner than when she arrived, and a fully stocked fridge to boot. Needless to say, we’ve been hungering for normalcy though it continues to elude us even at the time of this writing. More on that to come!