Category Archives: Contemplations on New York Life

Mammogram – a first time experience

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After the annoying ordeal with the front desk worker regarding health insurance and coverage yesterday, I was at least relieved that all the lab technicians who worked with me for my mammogram and breast ultrasound were very polite, friendly, and professional. While I’d had the experience of breast ultrasound twice before (my first one being in 2013, annoyingly), I’d never had a mammogram before. A mammogram usually takes anywhere from 10-30 minutes and is essentially a low-dose x-ray procedure where a technologist uses this massive machine that is ceiling high to compress each breast between two plates to capture clear, detailed images, from both top and side angles of your breast. It wasn’t anything like what I was expecting; I thought I was going to be put into a CAT scan type machine (not sure where this idea came from, but this is how I envisioned it!). You stand the entire time. The technician angles your body, chest, and breasts into the right positions, then asks you to hold your breath for about five seconds for each angle so they can get the right snapshots. Oh, and the other fun (not really) part: they apply these small patterned band-aids on your nipples, each with a tiny little metal bead where the tip of your nipple is!

The technician during the mammogram was very empathetic and caring. She kept asking me throughout if I felt okay, if I was dizzy, or if I needed a moment. I felt fine; I just wasn’t used to having my breasts squeezed in every which way by a massive machine! The breast ultrasound procedure was what I expected it to be based on prior experiences: you lie down on a table while they squeeze jelly all over your breasts, then they run the ultrasound machine all over your breasts and under your arms to get every possible view inside.

At the end, they told me that it would take about three business days to upload my images to my portal; then, either they or my doctor would call me with any results that needed follow-up. If everything looked fine, I should expect to not get contacted. So, it sounded pretty straightforward and normal.

All I have to say is: I hope both breasts are doing just fine. They both got me through fourteen months of breastfeeding, so I think they did a pretty good job!

The stupidity of American healthcare strikes once again

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When I made my mammogram appointment over a month ago, the provider I was referred to by my OB-GYN had an online portal that had you fill out the usual paperwork in advance online, so I was able to do things like upload my driver’s license, front and back of my insurance card, and fill out any personal and family history ahead of time. What it also did was give me an estimate of what my out of pocket cost would be at the time of appointment check-in. This was a rude awakening: it said based on my health insurance that my out of pocket cost should be around $350 for a mammogram and breast ultrasound.

None of this sounded right. Mammograms are standard and covered by pretty much every health insurance for women over 40. Breast ultrasounds are covered in New York state (and apparently… not in Kansas, where a friend of mine lives, and where she had to pay $300 PER breast out of pocket). I called my health insurance, who confirmed to me what I suspected: I should have zero out of pocket costs, no co-pays, for either procedure. They gave me a reference number to give to the provider. I then called the provider, gave them the reference number, but they said they could not tell me the cost until I came into the office, which seemed not only completely inefficient, but just plain stupid. “If you ask me to pay for this out of pocket when I come in, I will decline the procedure and walk out,” I said sternly to them over the phone. “I am asking if you can correct this ahead of time so we don’t waste your time or mine?”

The person on the phone seemed totally unfazed, like she didn’t care (and frankly, probably wasn’t paid enough to care). She told me there was no way to confirm until the day of the appointment when I came in (which seems false the way health insurance works, but whatever). So she told me to just come in, and she doubted I’d have to pay anything out of pocket.

Well, I came in this afternoon, and lo and behold, that same $350 amount showed up as what I owed at the time of service. I insisted to the receptionist I wasn’t paying it. I gave them the reference number once again, and she made a flippant response: “Breast ultrasounds are not typically covered, but okay, we’ll call your insurance.” Her associate called my insurance. Twenty minutes later, they confirmed that I was correct, that I did not owe them any payment… but, I would be required to pay $20 copay for the breast ultrasound.

“Copay – is just for the breast ultrasound?” I said to her, still skeptical. I made a mental note, planning to call my insurance to contest even this amount after I paid it because this still goes against what my health insurance stated to me on the phone, which I wrote down with the reference number.

“Yes, that’s what I said,” the front desk person said, clearly annoyed with me. I’m not sure what her problem was — it wasn’t like she was getting the money. Their office was the one who screwed up, not me.

I paid the copay, then had both the mammogram and breast ultrasound done. I walked out of the office much later than I estimated I would, so the whole experience was pretty frustrating, especially since I tried to prevent foreseeable problems way in advance, which this office obviously thwarted. But this is just one of many stupid, frustrating and senseless examples in my personal experiences of why our healthcare system in the U.S. is so fucked — an example of what not to be. I also made a note to ask my OB-GYN for another radiology provider because I definitely do not want to go back here at all ever, ever again.

Springing forward in New York City

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After having a particularly cold start to the new year, today, the high is 69 F. The sun is out, skies are blue, and it seems like a no-heavy-coat kind of day. Yesterday also marked the beginning of Daylight Savings Time, so we “sprung forward” an hour, which also resulted in my being super groggy when I woke up to my alarm at 6:35 this morning. I had to haul Kaia out of bed at 7:20 (when we normally wake her up at 7) because it was clear her body also wasn’t sure what time it was.

Most people look forward to spring. I look forward to the warmer weather, the cherry blossoms, the nearness of summer. I get excited about the spring and summer produce. I also look forward to shedding all the winter layers I hate so much and wearing lighter clothing. I am very much in my early 40s stage of life, embracing looser, more relaxed fit clothing, but am also staying hyper focused in keeping my exercise regimen pretty rigorous. This morning for the first time in my life, I tried on “loose relaxed fit” jeans in grey, and I was shocked how comfortable and flattering they were. I also got a package of loose summery clothing to keep me feeling airy but breathable this summer, while also having the added bonus of UV protection (yes to summer lightweight cotton and linen pants!). I did not always feel so great about wearing “loose fit” clothing, as I was never quite sure if it was flattering on me. But now, I fully embrace them all!

“It’s okay. You can buy me another one.”

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Being a parent has endless infuriating moments, like the table toppling over yesterday at the cafe with two hot drinks, but it also is balanced by endless sweet moments, as well, that make me gush and feel so thankful for the privilege of being a parent. Lucky me — since she was a baby, Kaia has always loved endless cuddles and kisses. She is extremely affectionate and loves being touched. One of my friends lamented to me that neither of her daughters leta her cuddle with her, that they actively avoid it and try to get out of their mom’s arms when she attempts to hold them. So every time Chris grumbles about Kaia’s moments of neediness, I always remind him that we should be grateful that our little one is so openly loving and affectionate. One day sooner than we think, she will want to have nothing to do with us in public, and will certainly not let us cuddle with her.

Like all little kids, she is slowly but surely growing into a big kid. And she’s demonstrating a greater understanding of how things work. For example, she knows that if we want to go to the bakery next door to her school that mama needs to have cash in order to buy bao (Double Crispy is cash-only, like most Chinatown bakeries). She also knows that when packages arrive, they are either gifts, or they are things that mama and daddy paid money for. End understanding: things cost money. When one of my friends came to visit in January, she presented Kaia with a new gift: a Disney princess necklace beading kit. Kaia was really excited, as she thoroughly enjoyed the beading stations for endless necklaces at Space Club the two times we went last year. This afternoon, we were beading the necklaces together and probably putting too many beads on the necklaces when it dawned on her that we would not have enough beads for all five necklaces; we had enough for about four. She started frowning when she realized the dilemma we were in. How could we finish beading a fifth necklace?

“It’s okay,” Kaia said finally with a little smile on her face. “Auntie Rebecca will buy us more beads the next time she comes.”

I couldn’t help but laugh out loud when Kaia said this. She started laughing and giggling nonstop when I laughed. But we laughed for different reasons: she loves it when we laugh and always wants to join in on the fun. I was laughing because I found it quite presumptuous that she just assumes that when Auntie Rebecca comes next that she will buy her beads — or anything at all! It’s almost as though she thinks that her mere existence grants her some endless stream of gifts from her endless aunties and uncles!

When your 4-year-old topples over an entire table of hot chocolate and tea

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Dining out with young children can be anxiety-inducing — so much to the point that a number of my colleagues have explicitly told me that unless they are dining out at a chain restaurant or McDonald’s, their kids are not coming with them. We’ve been dining out with Kaia at least once a week since she was about four months old. We’ve made it a point to expose her to lots of different neighborhoods, foods, and cuisines from a very young age, hoping this would make her adaptable not only to different foods, but also many different dining environments. And so far, while she has certainly had her number of tantrums, outbursts, and meltdowns at restaurants, for the most part, she’s been pretty “good” by public dining standards. Until today, she had never had a major spill or broken any glasses or plates. Yes, that is — until today.

We were at this small, quaint Thai-fusion cafe called Blue Brown Cafe in Williamsburg late morning today. It was the first stop during this Saturday’s food crawl. They had a small, narrow seating area, so we sat down at a tiny little table and ordered a Thai tea with steamed milk and homemade cardamom ginger syrup, a raspberry hot chocolate, and a pandan cream-filled croissant. Kaia was acting a bit unruly, insisting that she sit in a certain way and potentially grab the marshmallow off the raspberry hot chocolate. Chris was trying to move her so that she didn’t get too close to knocking over the table, but she kept resisting him. I had just taken a single bite of the pandan croissant — the pandan cream was delicious, but the croissant itself was not great and reminded me of Costco croissants. Just as I placed the croissant down on the tiny table, Chris got our hot drinks and put them down. Then, Kaia proceeded to push against the seats. And just like that, her back knocked over the entire table — hot drinks, croissant, and all. All it took was about three seconds and we had the messiest, stickiest hot chocolate and Thai tea spillage all over the place. Luckily, nothing spilled on or hurt/burnt anyone; and also luckily, the drinks were in to-go paper cups, so we didn’t break any mugs. One of the employees quickly came from around the corner with multiple wet towels to wipe up the floor. I instinctively jumped up to grab a ton of napkins from the counter to help the cleanup. Kaia knew immediately she had done something very wrong; she burst into tears and kept saying she didn’t mean to, that it was an accident and she was sorry. At that same time, a number of people were in line for coffee… and likely took theirs to go given the sticky mess and the sobbing 4-year-old situation.

When the employee finally finished cleaning our mess, I looked at Chris and said in a monotone voice, “So, do we want to do a re-order?” And the employee gave me a sympathetic look and said they’d remake our drinks then. It was a very kind, generous gesture given that they’d obviously already made the drinks that got spilled, plus we inadvertently made them do extra work with the spillage. So this time, we got the same two drinks, and the employee put tight lids on both of the drinks — probably just in case. This time, Kaia was super obedient, sat very still while we had our hot beverages.

These are the situations that you never want to have when going out with a young child. We were *that* family today with the unruly child who made a total mess at a cafe, and likely scared away other patrons from sitting down and enjoying their morning coffees and teas. Accidents happen, and honestly, I was always curious when something would get broken or spilled in a major way when we dined out with her; that finally happened today, at age 4 years, 3 months. But if nothing else, I hope that Kaia remembers this and knows that when she’s told to sit in a certain place and not kick or move too much that she realizes what could happen if she’s disobedient and doesn’t listen. We definitely do not want a repeat of today happening ever again.

A hidden head spa sanctuary in the middle of Manhattan Koreatown

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When my 40th birthday came around, Chris let me know that he was going to book me a “mega deluxe” spa treatment for a later date as my gift. “The Service,” as he calls it, ended being scheduled for this afternoon. He wouldn’t tell me what the service was or where it was, other than noting the approximate location, Koreatown, and the time (2pm). About 15 minutes before I was supposed to leave, he finally gave me the actual name and address of the place, and instructions for how to enter (e.g. you have to show ID to enter the building).

The thing about living in a concrete jungle is that lots of interesting things and places exist all around and above you if you know where to look and go. Koreatown seems like a very chaotic place with lots of restaurants, eateries, cafes, drink spots, and karaoke bars. But if you go up many of these buildings, there are hidden sanctuaries and places of respite, like this Mio Head Spa where Chris booked a “Japanese head spa” for me. I walked into the spa, and it was like I was in another world: there was quiet piano music playing. The decor was clean, sleek, and minimalistic, the lighting dimmed just enough to entice you into a mid-afternoon nap. There were several special chairs for head treatments, plus another room for blow drying and styling. I didn’t even know what I was supposed to be doing there, so the head spa person explained the treatment to me.

Japanese head spa is considered a luxury treatment in Japan, one that is quite popular when you are feeling indulgent and want to spend some extra money on self-care. It focuses on scalp health and combines deep cleansing, steaming, and massage to detoxify the scalp and promote hair growth. It’s supposed to be a therapeutic experience that reduces stress and improves blood circulation. My spa person did a really nice job on my scalp and neck massage, and I loved the different layerings of heat, steam, and pressure on my head. I had a heated eye mask on the entire time that felt calming and luxurious. It ends with what they call a “signature waterfall,” which really does feel like what it sounds like: they put a huge, wide stream of water over your entire scalp for several minutes, like a seemingly endless waterfall going over your hair and scalp.

After we finished the cleansing and hair wash, my spa person delicately dried my hair, then ushered me into the hair drying and grooming room. She pulled out the sleekest, most beautiful little blow dryer I’d ever seen, and then proceeded to blow dry my hair. But the sound that came out of it even sounded really soothing. It wasn’t loud and obnoxious the way most blow dryers are; it actually sounded much softer, and in a weird way, calming. But the air was definitely blowing out of it rapidly, so you knew this contraption was very high powered.

At the end of the full session, almost two hours later, my scalp is feeling very massaged and clean, my hair is extremely soft and shiny, and it smells… expensive. It smells like the types of hair treatments I would never, ever splurge on, since I’ve generally always been very low maintenance with my hair. The treatment Chris got me came with four hair mask treatments for at-home use, to be used once every other week, she advised.

I wonder if this treatment will actually promote hair growth. Given I am in my forties now, I guess that is something women in my age range are concerned about — hair thinning and even falling out. I guess it’s another reason to spend even more money, isn’t it…?! Now, if only we had all the money in the world…

Tardiness in friends

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At a previous company, I once worked with a sales leader I really respected. Although I am not in sales, I oftentimes listened to his team talks and abided by his advice. Countless times, I can remember what he said repeatedly about showing up to customer meetings: “If you are not 15 minutes early, then you are 15 minutes late.” To him, if you showed up for a 9am meeting at 8:59 or 9am, you were already late and losing the damn deal.

There’s some truth in this advice, and not just in business, but also with lower stakes situations, such as when you are meeting up with friends or other loved ones. You want to make a good impression, stay on good footing with those you care about, and ultimately, show some respect. When you set a meeting time, you are dedicating this time to this person, and thus you are respecting that they chose to set aside this time out of their busy day just for you.

I used to be the jerk who would be late fairly regularly to non-work-related events. In my early 20s, when I’d say I would meet with a friend at 6:30pm, in my head, I’d give myself a 15-minute window of “grace.” This was never spoken. I never told any friend this. But I figured I could get there by 6:45 and it would totally be fine. Sometimes, I’d arrive early or on time. But oftentimes, I was 10-15 minutes late. And finally one day, Chris called me out on it and said it was rude, said we agreed on a meeting time, and that I needed to respect that. Sheepishly, I admitted he was right. With that, plus the influence of work, since then, I make it a point to show up to meetups about 10-15 minutes early now, assuming I am not crunched for time by things out of my control (like work meetings that might run over). And that gave me the liberty (and permission) to start calling out other friends who would show up late to agreed meetups. It’s had a “trickle-across” effect: a couple friends who would usually be late are now almost always either early or on time. Now, the majority of my friends are always on time.

Well, that’s with the exception of one friend, who is notoriously late all the time. She has shown up to 1:1 meetups with me late by 10-30 minutes. Last year, she came to lunch with us late by almost an hour; Chris was infuriated. She came to my 40th birthday party late by 1.5 hours. And then this past Sunday, she came over an hour late to my Lunar New Year party.

“Being late is just a sign of disrespect,” Chris insisted as he grumbled about her. “Would she show up late to a work event or a workout class? I doubt it. So it’s not like she’s not capable; she just doesn’t respect her friends enough to be on time.”

I texted her about 10 minutes before she showed up on Sunday, asking if she was almost here (this is 50 minutes after the stated start time of my party on the Paperless Post invitation). Everyone else was already here; we were all waiting for her to arrive. When she came through the door with her husband, she saw my text as Chris took their coats, and she had said almost defensively to my text, “Well, we’re coming from far away.” Well, “far away” is all relative: we had friends come from Staten Island, New Jersey, and similar parts of Brooklyn, and they were all early or relatively on time, unless they had told us in advance they had to be late for some reason or another. With her, we had zero communication. And she clearly didn’t do the due diligence of looking at the start time, then backing out based on Google Maps how long it would take them to get to our place via public transit the way a logical person would.

Another friend was complaining to me about people who are perpetually late. “What, do they think an event start time is just a suggestion?” she asked me.

Although I’ve already called this friend out on being repeatedly late a number of times, I have a feeling that I’m going to have to confront her about it more seriously at some point soon because when I think of the sheer number of times she’s been late, it’s exactly what Chris says: it’s just a huge disrespect. Everyone is “busy,” but no one is too busy to constantly be late all the time and disrespect people they supposedly care about.

Year of the Fire Horse Lunar New Year Party

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Today, we had a Lunar New Year party of 17 friends who came to feast on 12 different dishes that I made! It was our largest group hosted yet. We had 16 people, but then a friend of Chris decided last minute he could come. Chris asked if I had enough food. I had a mini panic in my head last night, but I figured that I could always supplement with additional dumplings I had cooked and frozen that were originally meant for future use.

Well, there was way more than enough food; I was actually shocked by the amount of food we had left over, which just means that we’ll have more to eat (and less need for me to cook!) for this week. This year, in true form, I “upleveled” and tried out some new recipes, did my usual trusted staples, and also added more Vietnamese dishes (which were quite labor-intensive!) to the line-up. After prepping for two weeks and deciding on this menu about a month ago, this is what I made:

Starters:

Banh it tran – Vietnamese (Hue) sticky rice dumplings filled with mashed mung bean and minced pork, topped with scallion oil, fried shallots, and served with nuoc cham

Banh bot loc – Vietnamese (Hue) banana leaf steamed tapioca dumplings stuffed with shrimp , served with nuoc cham

[Do chua – pickled carrot and daikon (for both dumplings above, plus thit kho as a palate cleanser/much needed acidic hit)]

Luo bo gao – Chinese pan fried radish cake with Chinese sausage, shiitake mushrooms, and shredded scallops

Mains:

Thit kho – Vietnamese coconut water braised pork ribs with eggs

Nuo mi fan – Chinese sticky rice with Chinese sausage, cha siu, shredded scallops, shiitake mushrooms

Dan Dan noodles

Steamed wild black sea bass with ginger and scallion

Blanched yu choy greens with black vinegar sauce and crispy garlic

Buddha’s Delight / Luo han zhai: Stir fried (12!) vegetables with mung bean noodles

Desserts:

Black sesame swirled pumpkin nian gao

Chinese almond cookies

Black sesame tang yuan

Food is one of my love languages. I love feeding people I love. I love it when people discover new foods and enjoy them, and I love when they discover new foods they enjoy because of me. And I love it when people love the food I make them. One friend discovered she loved lotus root and the different tofu products in my zhai dish; she also loved the do chua/pickled carrot and daikon for my Vietnamese dishes. Another friend was obsessed over the savory-sweet flavor that the coconut water gave my thit kho/pork ribs. A friend who came for the first time said she couldn’t get enough of my steamed fish and how flavorful it was. A friend also was excited to have my black sesame tang yuan again — this is someone who is self-professed about being anti-dessert, but loves these sticky rice balls of “not too sweet” black sesame filling.

It’s definitely a lot of thought and work to put into this party, but I love every bit of it. I love the lead up, the food prep, the last minute bits that have to be cooked, the chaos that ensues with the kids coming in. And I always end the evening, after lots of cleaning and washing, with a happy and warm heart.

Cultural food traditions – honoring family, roots, and ancestors

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“Are you sure you want to make everything?” Chris asked me the other day regarding our upcoming Lunar New Year party this Sunday. “You don’t want to buy any food at all?”

I hesitated for a second because I realized that we had about 18 people total expected to come. To date, this would be the biggest group of people we’ve not only had in our home, but would also be providing food for. “No, I don’t want to buy any prepared food,” I insisted. “I like making all these dishes!”

He relented and said that as long as I enjoyed it, then we could proceed as is, but it wouldn’t be a bad idea to lighten the load and buy some prepared foods. I told him I’d consider it in the future — maybe.

As progressive of a person as I like to think I am, there are some traditions I do like to hold up, especially in the realm of food. There’s a real art in making a lot of these traditional New Year’s dishes, and the skills are dying because most people of my generation and younger just don’t value it very highly. Who is going to spend time sourcing all the eight to 20 vegetables to make a cohesive and homemade Buddha’s delight (luo han zhai, or just zhai)? Who wants to spend time making tang yuan dough by hand and from scratch; plus the black sesame paste filling, grinding, rolling, then freezing individual black sesame balls, to then wrap them in dough, and freeze once again… to then boil in hot water and then finally eat? We all have work, day to day responsibilities, and most people just want to throw in the towel and simply eat the food. That’s why so many families just go out to restaurants to celebrate Lunar New Year, or they’ll get ready-made foods and bring them home. But I’m not one of those people. I actually take pride and joy in making these dishes from scratch. It’s like honoring my grandparents and my cultures — that’s the way I see it. Not everyone eating these dishes at my party will understand the cultural significance. But every time I make them, I remember why they’re important and why they’re worth the time and energy to make. This time of year, I do spend time reflecting on where I came from and my roots, and while I make these foods, I meditate on it, clear my mind, and reflect on the past, present, and future.

What you think is common is not so common

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I feel like I’ve spent most of my life hearing people from outside the U.S., media, professors, teachers, older adults, and even my own husband talk about how stupid Americans are. Our literacy rates are pretty poor. Our math and language standards are significantly lower than in most rich industrialized nations. We have a lot to be embarrassed about from an education standpoint. But sometimes, people really, really shock me in ways I would not have otherwise guessed.

I was working on a shared Google Sheet with a colleague over the last few days. Both of us were editing it, and I had to hide a bunch of columns because I wanted to isolate certain columns of information I needed to work on another project. He got confused when he was in the sheet today and asked me why he couldn’t find certain columns of information. “Did you hide the cells or delete them?” He messaged me. “Can you please unhide them?”

I was baffled. I read the message twice before it suddenly hit me that he probably didn’t even know how to unhide the cells. How can you possibly be a white-collar professional in your seemingly late 40s and not know how to do the most basic functions in Excel or Google Sheets? And even if you didn’t know, go look it up — that’s what Google Search and all these AI applications are for!