Christmas Is For Kids!

I Need To Vent

OK, I'm writing this because I need to vent. It's 1:45 in the morning and I just got home and sat down. Tonight I had to work at the front nurse's station. It's been a week since I worked that area, and then I really wasn't working....I was orientating. I have been there one week and had to work every hall in that place. That's one of my problems with this place. There's nothing that is a constant for those residents. They need to see the same faces on the same schedule every week. I am on a different assignment every night. How am I supposed to get to know these residents in order to give them more efficient nursing care???? And they are so disorganized! Supplies should be fully stocked at each nurses station, but they are not. I had to stop giving medications three times this evening to run all the way to the far end of the building to retrieve needed supplies, such as formula for tube feedings, lancets and alcohol pads for glucose monitoring, etc.. Talk about wasting a lot of time running around!
Most of the staff there seem to be friendly and likeable, but there ARE those lazy ones that only want to do the bare minmum and then get ugly with you when you ask them to do something for one of the residents. Although I have noticed which ones do their work and which ones barely scoot by. Someone just needs to come in, clean house, and organize that place. I can't wait for the time when I can speak my mind to someone who will listen and do something about it. 'Nuff said.

A New Job, A New Year!

Well, it's 12:30 am and here I sit looking at "The Golden Girls" on TV. I hate working these late hours. I've gone to work at a long term care facility and right now their greatest need (and highest paying shift!) is 3-11. So here I am, back where I started. But that's OK.....because I feel like I was led there for a reason. I guess time will tell.......Oh! and one of my patients has a big yellow butterfly hanging from the ceiling above her head. Do I really need more of a sign than that? I think not. In fact, after only three days working there, I already have some suggestions to help improve the nursing care. I'll wait a while before suggesting them though.....I don't want to seem too critical too soon.

Christmas will be here in a few days. The pickings will be slim this year, but it's more about being with your family than anything. This year I'm cooking on Christmas Eve and having the kids and and their families here. I've even invited Vanessa to join us. She still has not agreed to let us be a part of Hayden's life, although I did attempt to reach out to her by inviting her to join us. I've even gotten her a gift and filled a stocking for her. I figure that if she chooses not to come, I can always send them home with Robert. I just want to have a nice dinner with my family around me. It's hard to believe this year is almost over. As I reflect back over the past year, it's been a rough one. A lot of things have happened this year. The birth of our grandchildren, my surgery (twice), Rob's panic attacks, and the usual family dramas (which I absolutely hate). The loss of a job I loved, in combination with starting a new one ( I hate job hunting!) and the depression in between them, has made this an especially stressful time. But I know it will get better...........in time.

Monday Full of Memories

It's early Monday morning and streaks of daylight are just beginning to show in the sky. It promises to be a beautiful day. I'm sitting at the kitchen table sipping my coffee and thinking of all the things I need to do today. I am thankful I am able to do them........not all of us are that fortunate. I am hopeful that my phone will ring today with the offer of a new job. Although my husband would rather I stay home until the new year, I am truly bored and miss the interaction with patients. I need that. For my sanity if nothing else.

Looking out the window at the gray sky, it reminds me of the sky I used to see in the winters up north. I remember winters in the north as a child, full of snow........and lots of shoveling! Dad used to get us out of bed early to help shovel the driveway so he could just get the car out of the garage to go to work. I remember one year (1977?) we had a huge blizzard. My room was on the second floor and the as I looked out my bedroom window, there was a giant snow drift from my window to the second floor window of the house across the street. I can remember opening the garage door to a wall of snow as high as that door. Naturally mom decided we needed to get a few things from the store that day to hold us over......just in case. We (my brother, dad, and I) shoveled, and shoveled, and shoveled! Unfortunately, it was so deep that not even the snow plows could get through. So what did we three geniuses come up with? We tied our little hound dog (Gretchen) to the sled and set out walking to the nearest store...........almost a mile away. We managed to pick up a few things (thank goodness the store was even open!), load them on the sled, then walk back.........with poor Gretchen pulling the sled. It worked, and we enjoyed a full week out of school! I miss the snow and the fun we had digging tunnels, making snowmen, and having snowball fights. But I sure don't miss the shoveling! I found it rather ironic when dad decided to move to Florida after he retired. He called me one day and announced he had sold the house and would be moving soon. He wanted to know if I wanted his snowblower............the one he bought AFTER us kids grew up and moved away. I just laughed and told him "no, thanks...maybe you should leave it for the owners" and he agreed.

Thanksgiving

Well, here it is again...Thanksgiving. And Christmas will be close behind. Thanksgiving holds alot of memories for me. It was the night before Thanksgiving when my Mom had an aneurysm burst in her brain. But things are different now, and I am the one doing the cooking and baking for my wonderful family. I will be up tonight baking pies and stuffing the bird, getting everything ready for tomorrow. And what am I thankful for? I am thankful for the ability to be able to cook this wonderful meal. I am thankful for my family and extended family, who will hopefully enjoy this meal. I am thankful for each day I have on this earth and all the friends and family I love so dearly. I am thankful for my grandsons. Both of them....even though I only know one of them. I am thankful for today. Because there is no guarantee that tomorrow will ever come. I want to take a minute here to give a shout out and ask you all to say a prayer for a dear friend of mine. She has been battling cancer and it seems she has won. Right now though, she's having issues with infection after surgery and is in a great deal of pain. I can sympathize with that. That was my story not so long ago. So anyone reading this, please take a minute and pray for her. Pray for her infection to resolve and her pain to stop. Pray that she will be on her feet again soon, because I sure do miss talking to her. And remember to be thankful....for all God's blessings in your life no matter how small they may seem.

The Old Man and Racism

I met a very interesting couple last night. He and his wife came to our house to look at my vaseline glass collection in the hopes of buying it. He obviously loved old depression type glassware, and held each piece lovingly as he looked at it. His wife called him Ray, and he was an elderly black man in his 80's. As he sat at my kitchen table discussing glassware he also began to talk about himself. He is a veteran of the army, and told us a story about trying to get back to base after a leave. They would not allow him on the bus back to base because of his color. Needless to say he was late getting back and subsequently was punished by the military. He also told of living in Lebanon, Tennessee, where his house was set on fire while he was working. His baby daughter died in that fire. He had more stories to tell, but time was short because he wanted to get home in time for Monday night football. As he left, he commented about wanting to write a book. I would be more than happy to do that for him. If he can talk about it, I can type about it. I want to hear more from this old man.

Ray is just one of the multitudes who lived through a time of racism and hate in this country. I hope, that with Barack Obama's election to the White House, it will end. These people did not deserve the crimes that were committed against them and their families. I hope our nation is one step closer to being more unified. Peace.

Not Much To Say

Well, Halloween is over and election day will be the next to go. I'm glad. Brian and Kailey brought Mikey by to trick-or-treat and he looked so cute in his little scarecrow costume! He makes it all worth it. I'll be back at work soon myself, and I am ready! Rob says he enjoys having me home, but I am going stir crazy! A person can only clean so much until they finally tire of it. We are trying to buy a house, so please keep your fingers and toes crossed for us! It has been a dream of mine to have a place I can call my own, and finally it may be happening! I am so excited! I really don't have a whole lot to talk about today, but it has been awhile since I last posted, so I figured it was time to write something....no matter how trivial it may seem. I wish everyone a good week, and I will try to post more later!

A Rainy Day

I'm up early this morning as usual and it's raining so hard the dogs won't even go out to pee. I don't blame them! We need this life-giving rain so badly that I'm not complaining about it. Besides, I can always go back to bed if I want to. I went to the doctor yesterday. He pulled my drain out (hooray!) and said he was very happy with the way everything looked. I did not even have to make another follow up appointment. He's leaving today for Nigeria on a medical mission trip with another doctor in his practice. I know they will do great things while they are there and wish I could go with them. I would love to participate in something like that! Going on a medical mission has always been my dream, but the funds are just never available. Maybe someday. For right now though, I think I'm going to attempt to find a traveling nurse position in California. My husband is looking at a possible layoff this winter, so we thought we might just pack up and go. If I can find a 13 week assignment out there, he can go with me, and all our housing and utilities will be paid for. There's a lot of things to do and see out there, so it would be like an extended vacation of sorts. I love San Francisco and the Napa valley, so maybe something close to that area. Thus the picture of the Golden Gate bridge below. This is a picture I took several years ago when I was visiting my brother. If I had my way we just move to that area, but I cannot pull myself or my husband away from our family for such a permanent thing as that.

Peace

I chose the picture above because it represents how I'm feeling. Very serene and peaceful. I am finally at peace with myself and those around me. I am healing well and have no pain. This drain is more of a nusance than anything. I decided yesterday to clean out our bedroom closet. A daunting task, as we have only God knows what piled up in there. The Amvets are having a clothing drive tomorrow, so I started by pulling out all of our old clothes, folding them, and bagging them up to give away. Then I pulled out my mother's old jewelry box. It had been a few years since I had seen what was in there, so I sat on the edge of the bed and opened it. I could not believe what I saw. Pinned to the inside of the lid was several butterfly pins. I guess I had forgotten them over the years. Apparently my mom had a fascination with butterflies too. I gently closed the lid and looked no further. I didn't need to see what else was in there....the butterfies were enough for me. They gave me a peace I haven't felt in quite some time. I have more work to do in our closet today and I am sure I will encounter more treasures such as these.
Robert came to see me day before yesterday. He and Vanessa are happy and that is all I can ask for. I am hoping I will be invited to see my grandson this weekend, but if not, well that's OK too. All things will come in their own time. I don't stress anymore about things I cannot control. It expends too much energy and usually is not worth worrying about anyway. Besides, I have learned that I can find the answers I need by simply taking the time to look inside myself and have peace with myself. I am at peace.

The Morning After

Yesterday was my husband's birthday. It was also surgery day. I think it's ironic that my first surgery was on my birthday and this one was on his. Needless to say, everything went well. Dr Sinard is so confidant that we won't have any complications this time, that I don't even have to see him until the end of next week. I do, however, have to wear a drain for several weeks. That will be more annoying than anything else. But I feel good this morning. No pain at the moment....actually I haven't had any since yesterday. Except for a sore throat from being intubated. Guess I'll save those pain pills for later! My nurse Lynn was fantastic! I can't say enough good about her. Dr Sinard was fantastic too! He even remembered it was my husband's birthday and wished him a happy one. I think the world of this doctor, and I wish there were more like him out there. He is not only a great doctor, but a very nice person too. If you ever need a good ENT surgeon, he's the one to see.

"The most important thing in illness is never to lose heart. " ~Nikolai Lenin

Time Off

After much soul searching and deep discussions with my wonderful husband, I have decided to take some time off work after surgery. I need some time to regroup and do some thinking about my career, my life, and where I'm going next. I was quite shell-shocked yesterday with Hayden's birth and Vanessa's mom treating me the way she did. I have never been escorted out of a patient's room by security.....especially since I did nothing wrong.....I only wanted to see and meet the one person I waited 9 months to meet...my grandson. The day only went further downhill when I was reprimanded by my manager after complaints by Vanessa's family. I wish I understood why. But I suppose it is not for me to know why. The butterflies were right. The changes they warned me of are now coming to pass, and I am seriously considering a travel job to get me away from things for awhile. After discussions about this with my husband, he has agreed he can take a layoff from his job and go with me wherever I am assigned to go. We shall see about this. One day at a time.......let's get through surgery first and then see what new adventure awaits.

It's Raining

It is with great sorrow and a heavy heart that I write this blog. My grandson Hayden, whose birth I have eagerly anticipated, has been taken from me. Vanessa and her parents delivered him at Vanderbilt on Wednesday, October 9th at 7:14 pm, without my son's knowledge or mine. For some strange unknown reason, a security alert has been placed on her, and all visitors will be escorted out by security. I know. I was escorted out this morning when I attempted to see her. I was screamed at by her mother and not allowed to see Hayden. Now, I know this girl is young (19), but she acts like she doesn't have a voice and lets her parents control and dictate her life, even though she lives with my son and he works two jobs to support her so she can stay home. Can someone please explain this to me? I want to hold my grandson and be free to love him, but I can't. I feel as though a part of me has been ripped to shreds. All I can see is the rain.
And there is more on the horizon. On Monday I will be taken back into surgery to remove the alloderm in my face. It is once again infected and it hurts. We will remove it, irrigate the area, insert a drain, and close it up. Apparently only one in thirty people who have parotidectomies have this problem. I am rejecting the alloderm and as a result my body is actually causing the infection. Leave it to me. Let the rain fall.

More Yellow butterflies!

If you have read previous posts to this blog, you know that yellow butterflies have always had a special meaning for me and seem to have been a constant in my life for the past several years. Butterflies are a symbol of change and transformation. And God knows I've had alot of that in my life! I guess more change is on the horizon. This morning, I was taking a bag of trash out to the cans, and playing with the dogs as I went. As I got closer to the trash can, there sat a yellow butterfly right on top of the lid. It just sat there, seemingly unafraid of me, moving it's wings slowly up and down as if to say, "are you ready?" My answer was "yes, throw it at me...whatever you've got!". I sat down on the back steps to watch it flitter and fly around, and lo and behold, another one joined it! Now, if you read my earlier blog about about my father's passing, you will understand how this made me feel......to watch these two do their dance together. I began to tear up and wanted to cry as I watched, thinking of my mom and dad. They are reminding me that they are with me.

Butterflies are also considered a symbol of clairvoyance. That is something I have tried to deny most of my life. But that is also a subject to be discussed in another post because my grandson has come to visit for the day, and it is very difficult to write anything with him tooling around the house in his walker grabbing at anything he thinks he can reach.

It's a Beautiful Day!

The house is quiet this morning and I'm sitting sipping on my coffee as I peruse through the news. There is never any good news to read anymore. But I won't get up on my soapbox this morning because I just don't feel like it. On Friday I saw Dr Sinard again. He wants to continue the antibiotics and see me Wednesday before he opens the clinic. I guess thats when we'll come up with a game plan for this wound on my neck. I have a hole in it just below my ear (it's gross) that you can actually see into and this is where the salivary fistula is. Saliva is draining from this hole and it's gross! I cover it up at work and when I go out in public, but at home I try to leave it open so maybe it can heal. He says the drainage is a combination of saliva and infection. I hope it heals on it's own. I don't want to go back into surgery and remove the graft......once was enough for me. And I don't like the questions from my patients. I truly appreciate the concern they show for me, but I felt so guilty telling them the tumor was benign. Those people are fighting for their lives every day and I feel like it's a slap in the face to them. I finally started sidestepping their questions and telling them I was just covering a hickey (haha!) with the bandage. They knew better though because they can see part of the stitches, but they didn't push the issue, and I just changed the subject by inquiring about them.
Only a few of my patients (the ones I am closer to) know what's really going on. Now.....on a lighter note......
Our female boxer, Shelby is back in heat. We have wanted a litter for years and this is our last chance. She is almost 4 yrs. old and I have decided that if we don't get some this time, then it's time to have her spayed. She and Brutus, our male, have been trying for along time with no luck. There seems to be alot of "activity" between them when they go outside, so we'll see. If it's meant to be, then it will be.
Well, the sun is shining and it's a beautiful day out there. Time to get off my kiester and get some things done. It's going to be a good day.

Here We Go Again....

Well, we are getting settled in our new clinic, and I must say, I am rather enjoying the new digs. Its like moving from a small, cramped efficiency apartment to a brand new mansion. The patients seem to be enjoying it also. Our wait times for the lab have reduced, even on our busiest days it only seems to be about a 15 minute wait, as opposed to the hour or longer spent waiting at the old clinic. Once the wrinkles get ironed out I think it will be wonderful!
On another note, I have developed some complications from what I thought would be a fairly minor surgery. I honestly thought that once my drain was out and the pain was gone, that things would heal and progress without any problems....WRONG! Leave it to me to be the drama queen! On Saturday my wound started draining. It has steadily gotten worse and not only is it macerated badly, but it also looks rather infected. Dr. Sinard, wonderful doctor that he is, came out of surgery today to speak with me about it. We are going to meet before he starts clinic in the morning and hes going to open it up, insert a new drain, and give me a few new stitches. I am assuming that once he sees how bad it looks he will also clean and debride it. I'm going back to work afterwards, so say a prayer for me tomorrow, because I will be under the influence of pain medication. Wish me luck....

Mikey

Mikey, my grandson, spent the night last night. It was actually good for me to spend this time with him. Life is so easy for children, especially nowadays. I sometimes wish I could go back to that time in my life when I had no responsibilities and my biggest worry was which toy to play with. Anyway, here he is in his Titan's outfit.....

First Day Back

Yesterday was my first day back to work. I was little shaky at first, but it got better. I was so happy to see Victoria and Jenn! We took patients until 12, then we took lunch and began moving into our new clinic and lab on the first floor. It is beautiful! And we are so proud of it! Everything is new and state of the art. The new lab has 5 port stations for me to sit patients and access their ports, there is one phlebotomy chair for Victoria, a stretcher area in case anyone needs to lay down, and an empty space for wheelchair patients.....it's huge compared to what we have been working with! Victoria and I worked hard all afternoon trying to get our supplies and everything moved and put where we wanted it. It still isn't done. I thought about going in for a few hours today and finishing it, but I think I'll stay home today and just go in early Monday to work on it. I was so tired when I got home yesterday, but it felt good to get back in my routine. I was hurting quite a bit too, but I think it's because of all the talking, smiling, and laughing I did! My patients are so good for me....I think I need them as much as they need me!

Going Back To Work

I made through the week....almost. Tomorrow I will venture out to work and see how it goes. I guess I'm a little nervous about how all that will go. Although my drainage tube is out (thanks, Brian!), I still look like Frankenstein. But maybe getting back in my normal routine is just what I need. If not, then I can always leave and come home early. I miss my girls Victoria and Jennifer. I think seeing them at work will be good for me....and I am bored! I know I am bored because I actually set up a Myspace page for myself. I have always thought Myspace was just for the younger generation (and I still believe that), but everyone in my family has one (including my mother-in-law) so I figured, why not? Besides, if there was any chance Zoe wanted to find me, maybe she would think to look there. I would love to meet her.
The silence in the house this morning is deafening, and although the Tv is on, it doesn't seem to help. I can see the sun trying to rise, but it looks as though it's fighting the cloud cover. I hope it rains today. A good day to lay on the couch and veg.

Gone to Paris!

What can I say? I had to get out of that house for awhile, so I talked Rob into a trip to Paris.....Tennessee that is! You know..home of the world's largest fishfry, etc....I really didn't think we would actually make it. I was packing Friday (after a busy day at the Dr's office) and had a scary episode I can only describe as a "vagal" type episode. I got dizzy, began sweating profusely, and was cold and clammy on the outside, but felt like I was on fire on the inside. I was weak and had some trouble catching my breath. Between that and fighting down a sudden bout of nausea, I just wanted to close my eyes and sleep. Rob, good man that he is, began to panic. But as I'm trying not to pass out, the nurse instinct is taking over and I had all these ideas going through my head about what could be happening. Once it finally passed, it hit me that this is the same type of response I used to get from patients while starting their IVs in radiology. It's what's known as a vagal response to something either real or perceived. I went to bed after it passed and slept soundly all night. Yesterday we loaded the dogs in the truck and drove up to Paris. We attended a cookout at a friend's house and all was well. Today, I was in the bathroom drying off from a much needed shower, and it hit me again. This time, I feel like my blood pressure may have bottomed out. No sweating this time, just dizzy and nauseated. I couldn't wait to lay down and just pass out. And that's what I did. Rob hauled my big butt to the bed and I passed out and didn't wake up for 2 hours. If this happens again, I'm going to get worried. I always say three times is a charm. I'll talk with Dr Sinard on Tuesday.......maybe it's just after effects from anesthesia. Anyway, I'm still draining 35-40 mL per day, so I'll probably have to see him this week anyway. And so it continues.................

Still Draining!

Well, I went to see Dr Sinard today in the hopes he would take this drain out of my neck. I feel like Frankenstein. If I go out anywhere in public, or just in the car (like to the Dr) I get stared at. Anyway, I'm still draining about 20 mL every 24 hrs. and he really wants me down to 10 mL before he pulls the drain. He was really sweet about it though and he gave my husband a suture removal kit and showed him where to clip the stitch and how to pull the drain out. If my drainage is low enough by Tuesday, then Rob can handle it. Either way, I have to call him Tuesday and let him know if the drain is in or out and how things are going. I like the way he kind of puts the after care in the patients hands and leaves it to them to monitor their own progress and make their own decisions about how they are progressing. The stitches on my face and neck are the kind that will dissolve over time. They are starting to itch, so I hope they hurry up and go away! Ok, that's all I have for now. I need a pain pill.

I Made It!

Hey! I made it through surgery, but it was scary for me! Let me tell you about my experience.
We arrived at the surgery check-in at 10:00 just as I was told. I was then informed I didn't have to check in until 11:00. Ok, so there must have been some sort of miscommunication by the surgery scheduler. That was alright, we just sat down and waited awhile. As I was looking around, I noticed a TV screen mounted on the wall with first names and last initials scrolling on it. I looked closer and found that this was their way of keeping families updated about surgeries. It showed three people "getting ready for surgery", and four people "in the operating room" with progress notes written in red, such as "doing well" or "surgery progressing". Then, when the patient is moved to recovery, it changes to say "in recovery room". I was somewhat comforted by this way of letting families know what was happening during surgery. It wasn't long before before they called my name and my husband and I were taken to a holding room. It was like a very small private room. That's where I put on the gown, got my IV started and was visited by the anesthesiologist, a nurse anesthetist, my surgeon, and my OR nurse. They were all very nice, and I felt very much at ease with them.
When the nurse anesthetist came in, she announced she was my bartender and had something really good for me! As soon as she got the all clear that the OR was ready, she began pushing Versed in my IV. Keep in mind, I have an EXTREMELY low tolerance for any kind of narcotic. I don't even remember her pushing my stretcher out the door into the hallway. I only remember telling my hubby I loved him and giving him a kiss while she was giving me the
drugs.
I don't remember being intubated or extubated, but when I woke up in recovery I was right in front of a clock and the first words I could manage were "is it really six o'clock?" I heard a familiar voice next to my stretcher say, "yes, you've been out for awhile". I turned my head to see who this voice was attached to and all I saw was a name badge. The name was familiar. It was a nurse I had worked with in radiology recovery. I knew then I was in good hands. I looked up at his face and said "I know you". He said "yeah, I thought it was you". He then asked if I wanted him to let my family know I was alright. I said yes, so off he went to let them know I was waking up. My only complaint was that it was eight o'clock at night before they took me to a room. Bed management knew, all that time, that I would be admitted, but they dragged their feet giving out a room number to the recovery room nurse. It was almost nine o'clock before I saw my family in my room. That was my only complaint though. The doctors were excellent and the nursing care was too. I really didn't want for anything. Except to go home!
I was discharged around noon yesterday with a drain in my neck and a line of stitches in front of my right ear extending down under my jawline. My right ear is completely numb, but I knew it would be. The facial nerve ran right through my tumor, so they had to cut it and reattach it with a microscope. I do have some slight facial weakness on the right side that will improve with time. I can't pucker my lips, and I noticed that while swishing water around in my mouth, it falls out the right side! And I can only manage a half smile! I know these things will resolve in time, but he said it could take up to a year to get feeling back in my ear. OK, so I can deal with that. And did I mention the really good news yet? It was a BENIGN tumor! But it had to come out before it interfered with my swallowing or anything else. It was a fast growing benign Warthin's tumor that can become malignant if left untreated.
So this morning I'm enjoying my first decent cup of coffee in a few days along with the peace and quiet of the house. I made Rob go back to work today. I feel OK, just a little stiff............and I desperately need a shower.

Tomorrow

Well, tomorrow's the big day. Not only will I be another year wiser (happy birthday to me!), but I will be minus one salivary gland! Ha! I must admit though, I am very nervous about this whole thing. I have had some really crazy dreams the last few nights....all related to my anxiety, I'm sure. Anyway, the one that bothered me most was one I had last night. I dreamed I was in the OR on the table and I had floated out of my body and was hovering near the ceiling looking down and watching things progress. I heard their conversations and watched the surgery take place. It was actually rather uneventful. I take this as a premonition that all will be well tomorrow. My dreams are very serious to me because they don't happen often, and when they do, they usually have something important to tell me. But enough about that. I'll write more on Wednesday or Thursday.

Looking for Zebras

I think my husband and I learned a valuable lesson the last few days. Don't go to the ER unless you are truely dying or injured! He called me at work yesterday morning and said he didn't feel right. He said he had broken out in a sweat and his fingers were numb and tingling and he was short of breath. He sounded very anxious on the phone, so I (being a nurse) became concerned. I left work and picked him up and we drove to the ER at Vanderbilt. Now, keep in mind Vanderbilt is an excellent place for sick folks and true emergencies, but apparently not for us. I must say, the doctors (two very young women) were very thorough. They checked him from head to toe for everything from a heart attack, possible stroke, pulmonary embolism, and dissecting aorta....all the right things for emergency room docs to do with a person presenting with his symptoms. But there was one small problem. They were looking for a zebra in a field full of horses. That means that they were overlooking the obvious. They were trying to treat what they saw on the monitor instead of treating the patient. I kept telling them it was a panic attack or severe anxiety, but I was ignored while Rob was scanned, stuck, and x-rayed. Several hours later, after being admitted to the MICU, an older attending physician came to see us. He was what my mother-in-law would call a "hand patter". He saw no medical reason to keep Rob overnight and said he was comfortable with the readings on the monitor because Rob was not symptomatic with a heart rate of 48. And so he ordered them to discharge him immediately. Today, I took Rob to see his PCP after receiving another panic stricken phone call. Dr Hill is great! He listened carefully to the symptoms presented and said, "this sounds like a panic attack"!!! BINGO!! That's what I tried to tell them the day before! Armed with a prescription for Xanax and Paxil, we happily left the office. Now, here we are several hours later, and no more anxiety (thanks to the xanax). And the lesson to be learned is: If you know that all you have is a plain old horse, don't let the doc look for a zebra. If he does, then find another doc......one with some good, old fashioned common sense.

A Long Week

It's been a really long and tiring week and I am so glad the weekend is finally here. It started with an ass-kicking day day in the clinic, then about 4:30 my doctor called to tell me we would definitely be doing surgery and he explained all the risks and benefits to me and told me what to expect afterwards. His main concern is the facial nerve. It runs right through the parotid galnd, and consequently, the tumor. He said I would have some facial weakness on my right side for awhile and my ear would be numb. It is supposed to eventually resolve itself after surgery. I'm going in on the 26th to have the parotidectomy. I will stay one night and go home the next day with drains in my neck. They will take the drains out a few days later. He says it will take about a week to recover, but I have taken 2 weeks off work. I can always go back early if I feel up to it. I think my biggest fear is the anesthesia. I've never had any type of surgeries other than c-sections and those were epidurals. Being a nurse, you know too much and tend to think of everything that could go wrong while you are asleep. Maybe it's a control thing.....giving up all control of your body to another person is tough. Anyway, I just want to get this over and done with.

Been Busy.......

I know I haven't written for quite while, but I think my inner muse has been sleeping.....or maybe there's just been too much happening lately to sit down and quiet my mind enough to write. I read a news story on Yahoo yesterday that not only turns my stomach, but also enrages me! It was about a 14 yr old girl with cerebral palsy who was starved to death and only weighed 42 lbs when she died at home in her own filth. You can read the story here: http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080801/ap_on_re_us/starvation_death_charges;_ylt=Ant2npDNZAZaQBdxoBA2XGes0NUE
I think the authorities are doing the right thing by charging all these people and I really hope some good comes of this. The DHS in that town needs a complete overhaul, along with other city offices, and I hope they get it. I'm glad she's in a better place now.
I can't believe it's August already and kids everywhere will be starting back to school. I'm thankful I don't have to deal with that yet. Michael has gotten his two bottom teeth and is working on his uppers. He's sitting in a walker now and kicking his feet to move him around. He just gets sweeter all the time. I can't wait for Hayden's arrival in October!
I went to a neck and head doctor yesterday. I noticed a swelling on my neck near my jawline and thought it was a lymph node....and it still may be...he never really said. Anyway, they did an FNA (fine needle aspiration) of it and it was not the results he was expecting. The doc said if he was a betting man, he would bet on a Warthin's tumor, which is benign. Apparently smokers are 8x more likely to get this type of tumor, which attaches itself to the tail end of the parotid gland. The only treatment for it is surgery to remove the gland. The problem was that the preliminary pathology report did not match up with what he expected to see for that type of tumor. He then sent me for a CT scan of my neck and said my parotid gland would most likely have to come out. Anyway, I'm not letting it stress me until he calls Monday with my completed results and gives me some sort of diagnosis and a game plan. Damn my neck is still sore though. They used a very fine needle (looked like about 25 ga.) and they took five samples and boy it hurt! I must say though, Vanderbilt definitely takes care of it's own. Most people wait a month to see this guy, but they got me in the very next day, did the FNA immediately, and there was no waiting for the CT scan. The whole thing, from the time I signed in at the doctors office, to the time I left radiology took less than 3 hours. I was quite impressed.
Our new Cancer Clinic will be opening September 8th. We will be moving everything on Friday the 5th. I am dreading this move, but looking forward to our new clinic. I'm still enjoying what I do and love working with Victoria and Jennifer. They have been my voice of reason these last few days. One of my favorite patients has finished her chemo and will be having surgery in a few weeks. I love her spunkiness! She is a mother in her 30's with a 6 month old and a 3 year old. If we had met under different circumstances, we would most likely have become close friends. I'm really gonna miss seeing her every week, but I'm happy for her. That makes 3 patients I have lost because they are now cancer free............

It's a Boy!

Ok, so Vanessa went for her ultrasound this week and we learned that our next grandchild, due October 3rd, will be a boy. I'm really OK with having two grandsons. I hope they grow up to be close friends. If that happens, then Brian and Robert won't know what to do with them as they get to be teenagers! I think that's something I'm really going to encourage. A name has already been chosen too. his name will be Hayden Adam Dunn. A fine name.....just going think about a nickname........maybe I'll just call him Adam...we'll have to see what suits him as he gets older. Anyway, that's my news for this week!

Can't Sleep

OK, it's the middle of the night and I can't sleep. I've been sick and up half the night coughing my head off. I'm trying to lay off the antihistamines due to my blood pressure. I went to the doctor today and it was up a little. I blamed it on all the cold/sinus medicine I've been taking. I'm so tired. I would give anything at this point to be able to lay down and sleep through the night for just one night. I have been up coughing every night this week. That's part of the reason I've been off work this week. The other reason is because my patients have immune systems that are compromised and I would NOT want to pass this crap on to them. I guess it's been a while since I've written anything, huh? I'm really enjoying the cancer clinic and I think I have bonded with my patients. It's always the same faces every week. You learn who to expect and what days to expect them on. My cohort says they have been asking about me this week. that kind of makes me feel good. It makes me feel like they have accepted me.
My grandson Michael is really getting big. I can't wait until he starts to talk! Next week we find out about our other grandchild and whether it will be a boy or girl. I am really feeling a boy, although I would much rather have a girl. But either way, we will love it just the same!

Michele

I remember that day very clearly. It was December 15, 1997. One day before Michelle's 31st birthday. Michele is my sister-in-law, but I've always considered her the sister I never had. She was a single parent with three children, Chasden, Kendra, and Tierra. Michele had always worked hard to support her kids and give them a good life. She also battled a weight problem, although to look at her you would never know it. She also had a drug problem. Pot was her drug of choice, but she also popped a few pills here and there....mostly Xanax and Vicodin. One day, Michele confessed to me that she had been crushing ritalin and snorting it up her nose. It helped to give her energy and controlled her appetite. For those of you who are not aware of this drug, it used to be the main drug used for children with ADHD. It is an amphetamine, which will slow down a child with ADHD, yet speed up the average person. Michele had begun having seizures. She told me about her use of Ritalin after having one of her seizures. I thought it may be the use of this drug that caused them to occur. She had started seeing a neurologist in Jackson, which was about 40 miles from where we lived, and she was scheduled to go back to see him that day. I was driving her because we were afraid to let her drive.


We left her house that morning and headed towards Jackson. We had traveled through a small town called McKenzie and pushed on towards the next town over called Tresvant. Now, you have to understand the layout here. This is a little 2 lane road that comes down a hill leaving McKenzie, then into what we refer to as "bottoms", which is essentially a swampy area with no shoulder on the road and absolutely nowhere to pull your car off or turn around. We had just traveled into the bottoms when I noticed Michele had not answered a question I had asked. I looked over at her and she was stiff as a board with her eyes rolled back in her head and she began gasping for air. I was not yet a nurse, but I had been trained to do CPR. I knew I could not safely pull over and get her out of the car and begin CPR, so I did a quick u-turn in the road and headed back to the small hospital in McKenzie with lights flashing and gas pedal to the floor. As I turned into the ER I noticed Michele had stopped breathing. I pulled in front of the doors, jumped out of the car and ran inside to the desk. I quickly told my sister was in the car and not breathing. This spurred them into action. Immediately people came out of the woodwork with a stretcher, ambu bag, and various other items in their hands. they quickly loaded her onto the stretcher and began CPR. I heard a "code blue" called on the PA system. I was scared to death.


I called my mother-in-law to let her know what had happened and then my husband. They both got to the hospital quickly. We were sitting in the waiting area when a doctor came out to update us on her condition. He said she was "status epilepticus", which meant they couldn't stop her seizure...it was continuous. They had lost her and brought her back several times, and he asked if she had been doing cocaine. "NO!" was my answer. I knew Michele had not done anything like that, but I also knew Ritalin was an amphetamine similar to cocaine. I had told my mother-in-law about Michele's ritalin use, but was afraid to say anything to the doctor. Besides, I told myself, it's been several days since she used it. Eventually they her stabilized enough to lifeflight her to a larger hospital in Memphis. I looked at my mother-in-law and said, "I'm going with you...I'll drive".


We drove almost three hours to Memphis. When we got to the hospital they would not let us see her. They said they were having trouble controlling her seizures and were directed to the hospital chapel. Several hours went by beforre anyone came to give us an update. When the doctor appeared, he had a grim look on his face. Michele had been tranferred to the critical care unit and was in a coma and on life support. The seizure in the car combined with the other ones had caused a severe lack of oxygen to her brain. He wasn't sure if she would make it, and if she did, she could possibly be severely brain damaged. They just didn't know which way it would go.

The next day they ran some tests on Michele to determine her level of brain function. They did find some deficits, but it was unknown how severe they would be until she woke up. I stayed with my mother-in-law in the critical waiting room for a few days then went home, leaving her there. I cried every day for Michele, playing that day out in my mind each time. Had I done something wrong? Was there something I should have done differently that could have improved Michele's outcome? Should I have pulled her from the car and started CPR right there on the road? The more I thought it, the more I realized I had done the only thing I could do safely. A few weeks later, I was stand ing in the kitchen washing dishes and looking out the window thinking of Michele and starting to cry. Suddenly, I heard Michele's voice, plain as day, say to me, "Cheryl, don't worry about me. I'll be alright, I'm just fighting a few of my demons right now and then I'll be back". I suddenly felt calmer and more at peace with it all. It wasn't long after that that Michele woke up. She was transferred to a rehab unit for brain injured people. She had physical impairments as well as mental ones. It had affected like a stroke. Michele had to learn how to function all over again. It was like teaching a baby to walk.

That was 11 years ago, and now Michele is living in a home for other people like herself. There are three people to a house and they all share responsibilities and are overseen by a caretaker. She has come down a very long road. Her children all graduated from high school with excellent grades, and are productive members of society. Tierra got married in October, Kendra is going to college this fall, and her son Chasden joined the military and is giving her a grandchild in June. Our family is once again complete.

The Pursuit of Happiness

I just finished watching a wonderful movie entitled "The Pursuit of Happyness" starring Will Smith and his son Jaden. It was an inspiring movie about a man named Chris Gardner whose wife left him to raise his son alone. He was poor and he wanted more from life. Believing he would suceed, he entered a six month internship at Dean Witter. During those six months, he and his son became homeless and penniless, but he was determined to make it. At the end of his internship, he was offered a position with the company and about six years later he founded his own investment company called Gardner Rich. He became a millionaire. He said that Thomas Jefferson was a very smart man when he added "the pursuit of happiness" as one of our basic human rights in the Declaration of Independence. Everyone pursues happiness, but is it always a pursuit? or does one finally reach a point where they feel they have found it? What exactly is happiness? I guess happiness has a diferent definition for all of us. For the homeless person on the street, happiness might be a good meal and a warm bed. The rich man who lives in a mansion might say happiness is someone to love him and not his money. For me, happiness is time. Time spent with those I love. Time to say and do the things that are important to me and to those I care about. I say that because for some of us, time is short. No one knows how much time we have on this earth, and we should all make every minute of every day count. Chris Gardner made every minute of every day count and he became a millionaire.

Favorite Quotes

These are some of my favorite quotes by famous people:

Those who love deeply never grow old; they may die of old age, but they die young. Dorothy Canfield Fisher

Wrinkles should merely indicate where smiles have been. Mark Twain

Nothing in life is to be feared. It is only to be understood. Marie Curie

To love abundantly is to live abundantly, and to love forever is to live forever. Henry Drummond

There is no revenge so complete as forgiveness. Josh Billings

Reason is our soul's left hand, faith her right.
John Donne

The saddest aspect of life right now is that science gathers knowledge faster than society gathers wisdom.
Isaac Asimov

Spring!

I'm glad it's spring! I love to see the grass get green and the trees begin to get their leaves. I planted a few stargazer lillies and they are starting to poke their little heads up to look around. I'll be starting my garden as soon as I can get my son to come over and till up the dirt for me. He says he's going to, but I know how that is. The down side is that now I have to mow my yard on a weekly basis. Ugh! But that's ok. I just hope we don't have a drought like we did last year. I watered my garden faithfully every day and it still died, along with my grass! With all the rain we've had so far this spring, maybe it will be ok this summer. To me, spring is a time of new beginnings. A time to plant seeds and watch them grow, a time to start fresh.
I'll be starting my new job at the Cancer clinic in a few weeks. I'm looking at it as a new start for me. I'll be working with some really amazing people and the patients are awesome! I think this will be a very rewarding career move.

A Bad Day

I'm considering a new position in a clinic associated with the hospital I work for. It's a cancer clinic. When I mention that I'm considering the move to this new position, most people want to know why. "Why would you want to be around all those depressing people?" they ask. I see those people every day as a nurse in radiology. I start their IVs, draw their blood, answer their questions, and give them encouragement. And these people, who are battling cancer, are not depressing. Far from it. They are upbeat, and happy to see the sun rise each day.
Today, I asked one woman, who I knew was on chemotherapy, how she was. Do you know what she said? She said, " I'm having a good day because I am alive and breathing, and able to spend one more day on this earth." It gives one pause to think. I used to think a bad day was not being able to get my Starbucks coffee for the day. Now, I think a bad day would be not waking up at all.
We need to learn to slow down in our lives and appreciate the simple things, such as a child's laughter, the sunrise or sunset, flowers poking their little heads up through the ground in the spring, the smell of freshly mown grass, or quiet times spent with loved ones. Learn to appreciate each day for what it has to offer, and remember, if you think you're having a bad day.........it could always be worse!

Zoe

I have a daughter. Not too many people know about her because she was placed for adoption. Rick and Joanne, the sweet couple who adopted her lived in New York and had a farmhouse in Pennsylvania. Let me tell you how this all came about.
I left my first husband because he was an alcoholic who liked to come home and use me for his punching bag. The boys and I moved in with Lisa, a friend I grew up with. I started dating a man named Don. He seemed very nice at first, but eventually his ugly side began to show. One night, he wanted to have sex and I said no. He took what he wanted anyway. Yes, I guess you could say I was "date raped". As a result, I became pregnant and he somehow found out. He threatened to take the child from me when it was born. I knew there was no way in hell I would let this man have this child. So I ran.
I loaded up my children, their toys, and our clothes in my old station wagon and left town. I drove to Tennessee, hoping I could stay with my ex-inlaws until I could get on my feet. I had $100 in my pocket, and that was all. When we arrived in Tennessee I stopped and called my in-laws to tell them we were coming. Once at their house, I was told they had no room for us to stay because their daughter had left her husband and was staying with them at the time. We slept in the station wagon at night and during the day I took care of business. Within a week I had a job and we were in an apartment in the projects. It wasn't the nicest apartment, but it was quiet and it was a roof over our heads. Needless to say, we had no furniture. I found a small mom and pop type furniture store that sold me a sleeper sofa on credit. By day it was our couch, and at night it was our bed. Brian was only 2 and Robbie was 1 at the time. We were the 3 musketeers, and we would survive!
As time went on, my stomach got bigger. I knew I had to find someone to adopt this child. It wasn't that I didn't want it, I just couldn't see raising another child on welfare in the projects. What could I offer this child? I had nothing. I made $4.25 an hour and got help with daycare and foodstamps from the state. Besides, I knew there were plenty of loving couples out there who would love it and give it all the things that I could not. I was scouring the local paper one day, when an ad jumped out at me. It was a couple wanting to adopt a baby. What the hell, I thought, I would call them and talk to them and just see what they were like. So I did.
The first time I spoke to Joanne on the phone I knew she would be the one. We just clicked immediately and it was like talking to an old friend. Before long, she knew my whole life story and I knew hers. Rick was sweet too, but I didn't get to speak to him as much as her. When the time came for them to admit me to the hospital and do a c-section, I callled Joanne to tell her. They flew down immediately in a private plane and arranged to stay with some friends of theirs in Jackson. The next morning they were there for Zoe's birth. My daughter, the daughter I had always dreamed of having. I was reluctant to see Zoe after she was born, because I was afraid of changing my mind about the adoption. I did go to the nursery and see her through the window. she was beautiful, and I began to cry. I had to get back to my room. The day after she was born, I filled out all the necessary paperwork and spoke with my lawyer. I knew I would go home the next day and I was tearful. Not only because I was losing the daughter I always wanted, but also because I felt as though I were losing a friend. Joanne and I had become very close over the past several months and I treasured our friendship. I knew I would never again have one of those long telephone conversations to look forward to. I missed her already, and she wasn't even gone yet. The evening before I was discharged from the hospital, she came to see me and I hugged her and cried like a baby. She misunderstood my tears and thought I crying because she was taking Zoe. She began to cry too, and pulled a ring off of her finger. It was a beautiful diamond ring, and she offered it to me, saying " you have given me something precious, now I want you to have something precious". I shook my head, tears rolling down my cheeks. "I'm sorry, I can't accept that," I said through the tears. Finally, it dawned on her that what I wanted was her continuing friendship. But we both knew that was not to be.
I left the hospital the next day and went home to my boys and little apartment. A few days later the phone rang. It was Joanne. She just wanted to see how I was feeling and let me know I would be receiving something from her in the mail soon. It was good to speak to her again, but I knew it would be last call I would get from her. A few days later an envelope arrived in the mail. It was letter from Joanne and a picture of Zoe. She's 18 now, and I still have that picture, just in case she ever looks me up. I hope someday she does, but I also hope she's having a wonderful life with Rick and Joanne.

Seven Years!!

I heard on the news this morning that you can now finance a car for as long as seven years. Seven years! Can you even imagine having car payments for that long? I can't. I bought my first new car in 1985 when I was 19 years old. It was a Ford Escort and I loved it!My dad co-signed for me, but I was responsible for the payments and insurance. The car was about $7000 and my monthly payments were $169 monthly. Nowadays, you can't buy a new car for less than $18,000. People spend as much on their vehicles these days as we did buying a house in the 70's. It's just crazy!

My Inspiration

Tonight on American Idol, the contestants sang songs that inspired them to reach for their dreams. It gave me pause to think about something that inspired me to enter the medical field, albeit not the exact job I originally dreamed about.
It was Thanksgiving eve of my junior year in high school. I had gone out with some friends that night, returning home around midnight. As we pulled into the drive, I immediately knew something was wrong. Every light in the house seemed to be on....very unusual mom and dad to leave all the lights on. Before I even made it to the front door, it opened and there stood one of our neighbors. "Your mom's been taken to the hospital," she said, "and I'm supposed to take you there now." As we got into her car I began asking questions, but she either didn't have the answers or didn't want to give them to me. We arrived at the emergency room and I was quickly escorted into a small room beside the chapel. My dad sat there holding his head in his hands as my brother cried. "What's wrong with mom?" I asked. "I don't know," dad said. He explained she had been sitting at the kitchen table eating a piece of pumpkin pie and suddenly vomited and fell backwards in her chair. He was unable to get her up off the floor and she was unresponsive. he called an ambulance immediately. About that time, the doctor entered the room. He explained that mom had an aneurysm burst in her brain and she had a lot of blood in her spinal column. He told us that he didn't expect her to make it through the night. I asked if I could see her. He led me into a small area with a curtain around it. There she lay, on a stretcher with lots of tubes and drains. Her eyes were closed and her body limp. I began to cry and took her by the hand. "Mom, if you can hear me at all, I want you to know how much I love and need you," I said through my tears. Then I did something I never done before.
I dropped to my knees and began to pray. I prayed for God to prove himself to me and save my mother's life. I wasn't a religeous person, hell I hadn't been to church for ten years or more. I can't explain what possessed me to do that, it just entered my head and I went with it. I prayed as if my very life depended on it. The next morning, when the doctor entered the room, he was just shaking his head in amazement. "I just can't explain it," he said. "By all rights she should be dead. This was nothing short of a miracle." He then went on to explain that 96% of people who have aneurysms rupture in the brain will die. Mom was one of the lucky 4%. She was alive, but comatose, and remained that way for over a month.
It was Christmas eve and the snow was really coming down as I looked the window of her hospital room. I had ridden the bus to the hospital every day after school to see mom in the hopes she had awoke. Now it was Christmas and I was far from being in the holiday spirit. All I wanted for christmas was my mom. I started to cry as I watched her lifeless form lying in the bed with IV fluids infusing, and her feeding tube protruding from her nose, and the ventilator quietly breathing for her. I turned to the window and for the second time in my life, I began to pray. I asked God to please, oh please! Give me my mom back! It was all I wanted for Christmas and I was very hopeful He would.
The next morning, Christmas day, my dad, brother and I piled into the car and made the trip to the hospital. As we entered the room, we noticed mom was awake! She wasn't lucid, but she was awake and pulling out her feeding tube. I noticed the ventilator was gone and she was breathing on her own. We called the nurse, who immediately restrained her hands and replaced the feding tube. She explained that mom had woken up the night before and they had been able to remove the ventilator. She also explained that mom was still a little confused, and the restraints in place as a precaution to protect her from injuring herself. It was the first step down a long, hard road to recovery for her. But little did we know, the worst was yet to come.
About a week before mom was to be discharged, a routine chest xray was done. A tumor was discovered in her left lung. She was kept in the hospital while they performed a lobectomy, removing the lower two lobes of her left lung. It was lung cancer. They claimed they got it all and she should be fine. She wasn't. About a month after coming home from the hospital, she began to have severe headaches. Fearing another aneurysm, dad took her to the doctor and had tests done. It was a brain tumor and inoperable. Apparently the tumor from her lungs had spread to her brain before it was caught. She bravely went through multiple radiation treatments while dad, Jim, and I cared for her the best we could at home. There was very little she could do for herself and we watched as she deteriorated a little more each week at home. After five long years of being sick, she finally went to sleep one night and never woke up. She knew it was her time. That night, as we were getting her ready for bed and tucking her in, she suddenly had a lucid moment when she looked at me and said, "always remember how much I love you." Those were her last words to me as she closed her eyes and went to sleep.
Caring for mom at home led me to my calling as a nurse. I wanted to be a doctor....to be able to unlock the mysteries of cancer and possibly change the world, but it was not to be. I am a caregiver and I firmly believe I was put on this earth to make a difference in someone's life.

Yellow butterflies

Well, my brother Jim and his wife laurie came down from Fishers, Indiana this weekend with their son Reid. It was nice because I hadn't seen them in three years, since we buried our dad. Dad's death was hard for me. He was very ill for quite a while and on dialysis three times a week. I didn't get to see him much because he lived in Florida and money was tight. When my stepmother made the decision to stop his dialysis and bring him home under hospice care, I really couldn't fault her for it. He was tired, miserable, and ready to go. I drove to Florida and arrived just a few hours before he came home from the hospital. We all knew it would only be a matter of days without dialysis before all his body functions shut down. He was in pain from the bedsores he had acquired and barely lucid. I told him I was there and I loved him. He told me he loved me and that was the last conversation we had. Jim arrived a day or so later. Dad knew he was there, but wasn't lucid enough to speak. I kept him on morphine (provided by hospice) around the clock. That Friday, May 13th, I finally whispered to him that it was ok to go...that mom was waiting for him. My mom passed in 1988, but that's a whole other story. A few hours later he was gone. I went out to the carport and sat down to cry and lit up a cigarette. It was late...around 9pm or so....and dark outside. As I sat there crying and smoking, I wondered if he was with mom. Just then, two yellow butterflies came into the carport and began fluttering around. It almost looked like they were dancing with each other. I knew then that was my sign that mom and dad were together again. I thought of those butterflies as my parents spirits, together again at last. Today, as I was talking to Jim outside my son's house, a yellow butterfly flitted between us. I had been thinking about dad all morning, and again, I think that was his way of letting me know he was there with us.

When I Was A Kid............

I remember summer vacations when I was a kid. We always went to my grandmother's house in West Virginia. It was just a wide spot in the road called Cairo. Dad always dropped us kids off at the store in town on our way in. We each bought an orange sherbet push-up for fifteen cents apiece and then we would walk the short distance to grandma's house. I remember the old marble factory in Cairo. We used to walk to it and pick up the marbles from around the factory that they considered rejects. They were treasures to us. One time we were invited into the factory for a tour. It was really neat watching them make the marbles. Times were very different back then. We were more afraid of getting in trouble with our parents than we were of any stranger. We played all day long in the creek building dams and catching tadpoles or minnows. We even caught a snake or two! There was no such thing as video games or computers, or even cell phones, much less cordless phones! Our parents didn't HAVE to worry so much about where we were or what we were doing, or even who we were doing it with. As long as we came home before the streetlights came on, we were fine.
All the kids in the neighborhood knew each other, and as a result, so did the parents. You could bet that if you got in trouble at a friend's house, your parents would know it before you made it home! I can remember playing in the woods near our house. Some friends and I started a campfire one evening and someone brought some cigarettes. That was a big no-no back then! Even though you could ride your bike to the store and buy cigarettes for your mom or dad, you better not get caught smoking any of them! Anyway, there was three or four of us sitting around this little fire smoking like we were grown, and suddenly we hear this deep voice at the edge of the woods, "young lady, you better get home now!!! And I'm calling all your parents, too!" It was my friend Tracy's dad! I almost peed on myself I was so scared! And when our dog got knocked up, we knew exactly who's dog did it, and my mother called the people and told them their dog got our dog pregnant. They apologized for it and were present for the birthing, then helped us find homes for the puppies. Try doing doing that these days.......
It just goes to show you that whoever said "It takes a village....." well, they were right. It at least takes a neighborhood.

Let Me Introduce Myself.....

Hi! Welcome to my first blog! This is something new to me, and I have a lot I want to tell people, so bear with me. Let me start by saying I am a 40-something year old nurse. I love what I do and wouldn't trade it for the world. Besides, what other job will let you come to work in pajamas (scrubs) everyday? I've learned alot in my years as a nurse. My patients have taught me many things. I've learned how to listen, really listen, to what people say. Sometimes you can hear what they aren't saying. I've seen people at their very worst, and very best. I've seen tears of joy, and tears of sadness. I've learned what is to be human, and to be humane. Ok, enough about my job. Let me tell you about my family.
I am married to a wonderful (when he wants to be!) man named Rob and we have two beautiful boys. Brian is twenty-two and Rob, jr. (Robbie) is twenty. My boys worry me alot. Brian lives with his girlfriend, whom he has a son by. Michael is just one month old and a joy in my life! I never realized how great it could be to be a grandmother! It can be heart wrenching at times too, though. Brian and Kailey (his girlfriend) tend to fight alot. I worry aboout what will happen to Michael. Only time will tell, I guess. Robbie and his girlfriend, Vanessa, live together too. I wonder how the hell they will ever make it in life. I have to give Robbie some credit though, he is working two jobs to support her lazy butt! She won't get a job, doesn't seem to clean house or cook, and her mama does their laundry for them! Oh, by the way....she's pregnant too. Yeah, another one due the end of September. Makes me feel old.