MamaDoodle Musings

Something is sticking!

2012-02-19T22:27:00.000-08:00

Today I explained to a woman why it was ok for her to be taking estrogen without also taking progesterone even though her naturopath told her it wasn't ok. Unopposed estrogen IS usually a bad idea. Causes all sorts of nastiness, up to and including uterine cancer. So, in most cases, if a post-menopausal woman is taking estrogen, she must also be taking progesterone to avoid all the nastiness. Unless she doesn't have a uterus in which all the nastiness would occur. My patient had her uterus removed 5 years ago. So unopposed estrogen is just fine. No uterus = no risk of building up uterine lining so no risk of nastiness, including uterine cancer. Some research shows that unopposed is actually GOOD for women without a uterus; something about cardioprotection, I think.

And I knew this. My patient asked a rather complicated question and I could answer her, right off the top of my head.

So I might look at 12-lead EKG strips like they're hieroglyphics, but I can answer the question about estrogen. Something that likely will come in even more handy in my future in primary care. Even if I DID understand the EKG, I'd probably have cardiology review it. But hormone therapy is something I'll likely manage myself. And apparently I know a little something about it.

Just when I think I'll never be able to see patients on my own I go and do something like this! Did I mention I diagnosed shingles and also knew the answers to those questions, too?

I used to blog.

2012-02-17T21:17:00.000-08:00

Then I went to grad school.

I think I have never been as busy and pulled in so many different directions at the same time as I am now. I need to be studying. No. I need to think of something for dinner. No. I need to prepare for clinical. No. I need to take MonkeyDoodle to her dance class. No. I need to write a response to last week's research lecture. No. I need to go grocery shopping. No. I need to . . .

It will end. In August I will be done with this terrible, wonderful thing called graduate school. And I will remember what it's like to cook because I love it. To shop for groceries because I love my family and want them to have the food they want in their lunches. To read a book that doesn't have anything to do with sinusitis or high blood pressure. To sleep through the night, not waking at 2 a.m. to remember something that didn't get done. To go to dinner and a movie with DaddyDoodle.

Don't get me wrong. I love what I'm learning and know it's a privilege that I must fully embrace so I will be ready when August gets here. I just wish I could figure out some way that my family could have more of me while I try to fill myself with the knowledge necessary for me to be good at what I will do.

It's been 14 years since I started down this path, started working toward a someday career as a nurse practitioner. Who knew the last 6 months would be the hardest?

What I didn't say today

2012-01-31T19:15:00.000-08:00

I think I didn't write much about what happened to MonkeyDoodle before the depression and suicide watches and anger and fits of rage and the hospital stays and visits to the emergency room and anti-psychotic medication. While I know that the cause of the resulting illness was multi-factorial, the immediate cause of MD wanting to die was a girl at her school.

She called MD names. MD wasn't allowed to sit with her friends. Her friends were afraid to stand up for her because then they might become the target. Very late in the situation, I learned that this girl had been hitting her and calling her names when she cried.

The bully's mom was MonkeyDoodle's Girl Scout leader (GSL). When MD first started having trouble with the girl "play punching" her and not stopping when MD asked, I went to GSL and asked her to put a stop to it. "Oh, I know about that. That's just girls being girls. I like to let the girls work it out among themselves." I told her that it sounded like MD had asked her to stop and was doing her part and now it was time for adults to get involved. "Okay. Okay," with rolled eyes reacting to me, the overprotective mother. "I'll say something to her. But, really. What's a little sock in the arm?" I doubt she said anything to her daughter. I was honestly a bit surprised she didn't give me a "friendly punch" to prove her point.

MonkeyDoodle didn't mention it again so I assumed it had stopped. Now I know that it just got worse and worse and worse. To the point that MonkeyDoodle preferred death over going back to school. You all have no idea how close we came to being on the news. "It gets better." Even President Obama told us so. But hearing that doesn't really help when you're living through hell.

MD had done what she was supposed to do, reporting it to the responsible adult (me). But the adults failed her by not appropriately intervening. I never followed-up with the mom. But obviously it didn't stop. I haven't spoken to or communicated with GSL since I sent her an email in November 2010 to let her know that MD would no longer be attending Girl Scouts. She sent me a one-sentence reply and I heard nothing else. No words of concern about why MD, the girl who considered Girl Scouts one of her favorite things, might be leaving. I was immediately removed from the email list (though she is notoriously slow about updating those lists) and never heard another word from her. From her response (lack of response?), I assumed she knew at least part of what was going on and her daughter's role in our decision to move MD to another school.

Since then, every time I've gone to the grocery store, I've taken a deep breath and considered that walking into the store was a risk. My favorite grocery store is very close to their house. And it's the best grocery store in the area. I live much farther from the store and I shop there, so surely she must shop there, too. Today I discovered that perhaps Tuesday around 1:30 p.m. isn't maybe the best time for me to go grocery shopping.

I was almost done shopping. I was leaving the dairy section, after agonizing over yogurt choices, and was heading to the cracker aisle get some Cheez-Its before checking out. If I had paid attention to where I was going and gone the logical way to the cracker aisle I wouldn't have seen her. But there she was, walking past the deli meats and headed for the fresh cheeses as I was walking the wrong way to the crackers.

"Hi, Mama!" she said enthusiastically. I pasted on my ever-so-polite I-want-to-punch-you-in-the-face-but-probably-shouldn't-at-least-not-here-in-public smile, walked a little faster and blew past her with a mumbled "Hi." Still trying to make contact, she said "How are you?" "I'm good," as I rounded the corner as if disaster might befall us all if I didn't get to the Cheez-Its immediately. I didn't look back as I heard a puzzled sigh escape from GSL.

I probably could have handled the situation better. Ever mindful of manners, all I could think of was how rude I'd been to her. In all the time I spent worrying that I might run into her, I never came up with a good plan for what to do if it actually happened. I fantasized about what I'd like to say:[Please insert snarky inflection as you read.]

How am I? How AM I? I'm good. Oh, and, how's MonkeyDoodle? Well, she's getting better. She's hasn't been hospitalized in a year and a week. The therapy is expensive and she misses a lot of school when she has to take time off to go see the psychiatrist. Sometimes, when we forget her meds, she has little relapses. Oh. I didn't realize you didn't know she'd been in the hospital. Yeah. That came about because she wanted to kill herself because your daughter made her life a living hell. "Girls will be girls," you said when I asked you to make it stop. Well, apparently YOUR girl will be a monster, not a girl. Remember all the news stories last year about elementary and middle school kids attempting or completing suicide because they were bullied? Do you have ANY IDEA how close you came to being on the news? I didn't name names last year. I didn't have the energy to call you out for not intervening. Well. I do now. So right here, in the middle of the deli department of my favorite grocery store, I'm calling you out. I hate you for what you allowed to happen to my daughter.

I didn't say any of that. I just ran to the cracker aisle, willed the cashier to work faster, and ran out to my car and wondered if I'll ever shop there again.

Will I ever feel rested again?

2012-01-27T20:06:00.000-08:00

Go to clinical. Come home and review what I did all day in clinical. Post some homework on discussion boards. Eat. Sleep for a few hours. Repeat.

When I put all the tasks/hours on paper, it doesn't seem like school/clinical should be all consuming this semester. But it is.

Don't get me wrong. I LOVE everything I'm doing. (Okay. Maybe not some of the nursing theory discussions that feel like a colossal waste of time. But everything else.) I just wish I had some time/energy left for other parts of my life. Like my family. And sleep. And walking the dogs.

On the plus side, I'm learning. And I haven't felt like quitting in a while. I think that might be related to not having time to ponder how hard it is.

Whine done. Time for sleep.

On my way!

2012-01-06T20:04:00.000-08:00

Full wellness physicals on both male and female patients today. Including pap and full genitalia exams. On real honest-to-goodness patients who weren't paid to pretend to be my patients. Also did complete visit for two simple cases of sinusitis.

Very grateful for the patients who allowed me to learn on them today!

Did all this with my preceptor standing right there, guiding me when needed. Soon I'll be doing it on my own.

I've learned so much in just 3 days. Wednesday morning, my first in the clinic, I stood in awe while watching my preceptor and wondered if I'll ever be able to learn all the stuff I need to know. I know that sinusitis and wellness physicals are a LONG way from everything I'll need to become proficient at, but it's nice to feel like I'll be ready for the easy stuff pretty soon.

You gotta start somewhere, and I've started!

No first-day jitters here!

2012-01-04T21:58:00.000-08:00

I need to sleep. But first I need to tell you that clinical was great! Excited that I get to go back tomorrow.

And I absolutely made the right choice in footwear!

Ready

2012-01-03T19:45:00.000-08:00

Tomorrow morning, I'll don my white lab coat, clip on my LUS ID badge, toss my stethoscope over my shoulder and jump into the next phase of this thing called grad school. Tomorrow, I start clinicals.

I'm excited and nervous and ready to go! I've packed and repacked my clinical bag. Not really knowing what I'll need, I have a new full-size spiral-bound notebook (not quite sure why, just seemed like a good idea), a small spiral-bound notebook (fits in my lab coat pocket to be handy for notes), my stethoscope (because, duh!), pens (my favorite kind, Uniball Signo, in black and a few fun colors), reading glasses (because I'm getting old and can no longer read my own notes without first putting on said reading glasses), my iPad (all my texts and some apps with potentially helpful information), hand sanitizer (I'm a nurse, of course I'm a germophobe!), LUS folder (for syllabus, and assignments and such), and most importantly, LIP BALM!

My clothes are chosen and laid out next to the bed. Those who know me, know I'll be wearing my silver beads. Always the silver beads. And of course, fabulous, but comfortable, shoes. Tomorrow will be the patent leather Docs with the black bows.

MonkeyDoodle and I did a trial run drive to the clinic last week so I'll know where I'm going.

I'm ready.

Except. I have no idea what to expect when I get there. I suppose I'll introduce myself to the receptionist and ask for my preceptor. After that, it's all a mystery.

Whatever happens, I'm very excited. Tomorrow I get one step closer to becoming a nurse practitioner. And many steps closer to hands-on care. Tomorrow is my first day in a clinic as a provider instead of a nurse.

Meatloaf and Rice-a-Roni

2011-12-30T06:04:00.000-08:00

5:30 a.m. and I'm feasting on leftover meatloaf and rice-a-roni. Breakfast of champions, right?

I've been awake since 3, after about 5 hours of fitful sleep. Not sure why I can't sleep. Can it possibly be that I'm actually rested?

Christmas break has been good for me. Now I'm ready to get back to school life. I know there will be so much to do once the semester starts and I wish I could do some of it now, while I've got time on my hands. I know, I know. There are plenty of things I could be doing that are non-school-related, but the house is relatively clean and I've already read more recreational books than I thought I'd have time for.

So I wait. And cook (6 loaves of bread this week alone!) and read and play with the dogs. And check Blackboard every few hours to see if any professors have posted a syllabus yet. And pack and repack my bag for clinical. (Did I mention that DaddyDoodle and MonkeyDoodle got me an awesome bag into which I can put all my supplies and references for clinical? Admittedly, they had some pretty strong prompting from me on which bag I liked, but I love it and will think happy thoughts of them when I see it during what I'm guessing will be stressful days in the clinic.)

I start my first clinical rotation on Wednesday (today is Friday). I'd never been to the clinic so MonkeyDoodle and I did a dry run this past Wednesday. I was surprised to find it located in the middle of an upscale shopping center. I imagine my patients will be middle class patients with middle class chief complaints: headaches, depression, etc. It will be nice for my first experience, while I'm trying to get my NP feet under me, to not also have to play social worker as I would in a low-income clinic. (I AM hoping to find a community/low income clinic for my summer semester clinical, though.)

The clock just chimed 6 a.m. My alarm is set for 7:20. I wonder if it's worth trying for another hour of sleep?

What lurks in my cupboards

2011-12-22T14:47:00.000-08:00

I'm cleaning!! And rearranging and organizing. It feels soooooo good to be getting this done!

Unfortunately, I've thrown away lots of food that was long (sometimes years!) beyond the expiration date. I hate throwing out food. It seems so wasteful. Part of the rearranging is to move things so that things won't end up tossed in the trash in a few years because I forgot about them in the back of the cupboard.

Many of the items that I'm throwing out are things that were given as gifts (white hot chocolate, gourmet powdered onion dip) that I just never would use in the first place, much less when they get lost at the back of the cupboard. These "never use it in a million years" items should have been donated or thrown out before ever making it to the cupboard.

Also being tossed: multiple bags of the same kind of chips (opened when I didn't realize one was already open and summarily tossed in next to the first, to be joined later by a third); things that seemed like a good idea at the time (butternut squash soup starter, salt from around the world); and things purchased at a small store where it would be rude to not buy something (hand-crafted olive oil, rosemary vinegar). Looks like I REALLY need to alter my spending and what ends up in the cupboard!

Now back to the purge!

Questionable taste

2011-12-19T00:07:00.000-08:00

I have a friend who frequently posts on facebook following the death of a public figure. Sometimes these status updates, as when Steve Jobs died, are uplifting thoughts about how that person has left a positive impact on the world. I'll admit, I don't really pay much attention to these updates, as they are usually among a swarm of other, similar posts.

The posts that get me thinking, however, are the ones following the death of someone she finds distasteful. The reason this comes to mind tonight is a post she made earlier this evening: "One less evil dictator in the world tonight. Merry Christmas, North Korea." She is not the only of my facebook friends who brought attention to the death of Korean dictator, Kim Jong-il. However, she is the only of my friends to editorialize on the death. Others posted links to news articles announcing the death.

When Ted Kennedy died, she posted something to the effect of "Remembering Mary Jo Kopechne today." Similar remarks have noted the passing of others she did not approve of. The comments always leave me unsettled. Not in the way she intends, I'm sure. I don't think "Wow! Glad she pointed out to me what an evil-doer this person is and how the world is a better place without him in it."

Instead, her comments have the opposite of the desired effect on me. I think "this evil person was some woman's child" or "how petty to need to point out evil that we all know about when the person has died."

Kim Jong-il was a terrible dictator who brought death and suffering to the people he was charged with "leading." I don't know the truth about Ted Kennedy and what happened in Chappaquiddick 40+ years ago. I'm not saying you need to say "RIP" or "Godspeed" or always remember the person fondly. It just seems unseemly to rejoice in someone's death, no matter who they are and what they've done.

Am I petty to be bothered by these "status updates" that seem to serve no point other than to make sure we know how much the dead person was despised by her? Seriously. Am I being petty?

Kids can be so mean

2011-12-17T21:42:00.000-08:00

There’s always one in every crowd. Usually a bit needy and obviously willing to do anything to please others but somehow never quite getting how to fit in. The kid who practically screams to be ridiculed and picked on. And we oblige. Even adults do it. When working in the schools, these needy kids were the ones who drove me crazy and, honestly, I often would roll my eyes at the secretary whenever they came to my office for whatever minor ailment was bringing them to the office for attention that day.

His name was Eric. The kid who ate lunch alone in the high school math teacher’s room. The kid who was tormented by the cool kids and ignored by the rest of us. He kept trying to fit in, would jump into conversations. But to allow him in would have been the kiss of social death.

I honestly didn't know what it was about him that make him the target. He was a little quirky but didn't seem so bad. Not that I did anything to help him. I certainly wasn't cool but I also wasn't willing to risk my precarious social status for his benefit.

I don’t really know anything about him. What his family was like or where he lived. All I know is that he dressed a little odd (shirt buttoned to the top and pants pulled high above his waist) and that he had no friends. He came off with an air of not caring about how he was treated but eventually he got a bit mean. At a certain point, the only response to continuous rejection becomes defensive meanness. His meanness wasn’t from the heart; not like the kids who teased him and called him names just to see him squirm. His was obviously a shell of self-defense. “If I hurt you first, you can’t get close enough to hurt me.”

When I think of Eric today, I think “Kids can be so mean.” Lately it’s been in reference to my own daughter. She desperately wants to have a friend, to be a friend. I watch with sadness as I see the cool kids realize that she’s the chosen one, the one to be considered a nuisance and to be ignored. When they ignore her, she just tries harder, which only encourages them to ridicule her more. A vicious circle.

She knows she’s weird. She wants to have friends. She eats lunch alone. Sometimes with the science teacher. Did Eric’s mother’s heart break when her son told her that he ate lunch with the math teacher?

Because I want to

2011-12-16T15:36:00.000-08:00

You might notice a new little widget just to the right of my post. It's from one of my favorite websites, Goodreads, where I keep track of books: what I want to read, what I've read, short reviews of books I've read. I've set this particular widget to feature the books I've read so far this year.

You may remember me writing about my personal reading goal for this year. Well, I have two weeks and two books left. I'm going to make my goal!

Yesterday I took my last final early in the morning. After my usual stint volunteering at MonkeyDoodle's school, I had the rest of the day to do with whatever I wanted. I know I had said I wanted to clean. I do. And I will. But yesterday my whole body hurt from the stress that had been building up over the past few weeks. I could hardly lift my arms above my head, much less vacuum and scrub and declutter.

Instead, I started reading. Something that I WANTED to read, not something someone told me I had to read. It was wonderful. So wonderful, in fact that I plan to do the same with the rest of today.

The house will still be messy tomorrow. And I did something to GUARANTEE that I will remain motivated about the cleaning: I agreed to have the in-laws over for Christmas Eve dinner. Today is the last day of utter relaxing before the cleaning begins!

Oh, and if anyone wants to join me, I'm planning to set a reading goal for 2012 as well. I'll be in school for 8 months instead of 4 so I'll probably lower my goal to keep it realistic. Perhaps 30. Join me over at Goodreads. We can read together!

One down, two to go

2011-12-15T06:31:00.000-08:00

I'm done with the first semester of grad school! Yippee!

Not that I super care right now, but I finished the semester with a respectable GPA. DaddyDoodle was right: I'm not going to flunk out of grad school or even lose my scholarship or see academic probation. I'm going to head out of this horrendous, exam-based semester and move on to the portion of the program where I get to write papers. I always do well in those paper-based classes!

Now I'm off to read a book because I want to, not because someone told me to. Then perhaps clean the house. Who knows? I can do whatever I want for the next 3 weeks!

In the home stretch!

2011-12-13T14:03:00.000-08:00

Two of the Four BIG finals are done. Also two little classes done. Cumulative exam tomorrow and one the next day and it's over for the semester.

Remember this from earlier in the semester? Here's the new version. With EVERYTHING crossed off!

Now I have this:

One box for each class. Only two boxes left!

What will I do to celebrate when I'm done?

Clean house. That's all I want to do. I'm not talking about a bit of tidying here and there and maybe some vacuuming. I want to clean and organize and purge and make the house sparkle. I got the tiniest hint of that the other day when I cleaned one small section of the living room for the tree. I wanted to keep going and make the whole house look like that. Instead I went back to studying.

I'm not sure how long this cleaning/organizing urge will last but I hope it's long enough that whenever I sit to study next semester I don't have to choose studying over clutter-clearing.

Tis the season . . .

2011-12-05T15:02:00.000-08:00

Finals season, that is. Seems many of my blog friends who are fellow students are also wrapping up their terms and heading in to finals. For some unexplained reason, I'm not a mess of freak out. I'm sitting in my chair, between the fireplace and the tree (decorated by MonkeyDoodle yesterday) sipping a cup of tea making my grocery list. Watched a lecture this morning and will watch another this afternoon/evening.

I have 5 (FIVE!) finals staring me down starting the end of this week and going into next week. So why aren't I climbing the walls? I'm thinking this is the calm before the storm. I'm going to get as much accomplished as I can during this calm. And try to remember that sometimes the predicted storm passes a bit to the north. I might even avoid a direct hit!

2011-11-19T23:31:00.000-08:00

Thankful for my relationship with MonkeyDoodle.

I ran into an old friend today. She was in town for the weekend with her 8-year-old daughter. "This is our first trip away together, just the two of us. It's been such a special time."

When MonkeyDoodle was in 1st grade she and I started taking mini vacations together. Mostly to Disneyland during a school break when DaddyDoodle couldn't join us or to a nearby city for a weekend of shopping and sightseeing. When she was 8 we went on our first long roadtrip together, to visit all the "Little House on the Prairie" sites in the upper midwest. (Nana came along on that trip and a few others but that feels incidental and I will always remember them as my time with MonkeyDoodle.) In the years between 2nd and 6th grade, MonkeyDoodle and I spent at least 6 weeks, just the two of us. Much of that time was spent driving throughout the country, visiting national parks and sampling wonderful food.

Those days are over for now. MonkeyDoodle is now in middle school and she's pulling away. It's developmentally appropriate and, while I'm whistful for the wonderful mother-daughter time we had, I know that it's the way things are supposed to be. I also know that the relationship we built during those years has laid the groundwork for a continued solid relationship as she enters the hard years of middle and high school. Even though she's asserting her independence, she still comes to me and lets me seek her out. I wonder if it would be so if we hadn't had the special times together earlier. Would our relationship have weathered the horrors of the past year?

Tonight, I watched my friend and her daughter as they enjoyed their special time together. I'm grateful that I can look back and know that I didn't let that precious time slip away.

Link to Genesis sermon

2011-11-18T18:42:00.000-08:00

Finally, here's the link to the sermon I mentioned last week. Definitely worth a listen. This guy is very engaging and the subject matter is fascinating.

What are you waiting for? Listen! GO!

Two of the amazing women I adore

2011-11-18T17:21:00.000-08:00

I forgot to pick something specific to be thankful for yesterday so I'm going to cheat today and choose two things today. (Is it really cheating when I'm making up my own rules?)

Thankful for LittleSis, who came into the world 30 years ago today.

Thankful for Friend M and the rejuvenating lunch we had together today.

LittleSis was born when I was in middle school. I went off to college about the same time she started school. We didn't REALLY get know each other until many years later, when she herself was in college and she stayed with the Doodle family for a summer. Then we went on an amazing road trip when it was time for her to return to LUS after the summer. (Forgot to mention that she went to LUS. That's how I knew it was so lovely!) Suddenly the little girl that had toddled behind me all through high school was a grown up who I could relate to!

A couple years after graduating from college, LittleSis decided to make my home city her home as well. Once again she stayed with us while figuring out what life as an adult was going to look like for herself. When she moved out, she moved into an apartment 10 blocks away. We had great fun together! Somewhere along the line she met the love of her life and I started seeing less of her. Then she married said love of her life and moved further away. I don't see her often enough now that she's all grown up with her own life and family (or at least husband, for now). But I love her dearly and I'm so thankful that I got her to be MY LittleSis!

********

Friend M has been in my life since college, even though I didn't meet her until many years later. You see, she started dating my best friend and I knew it was serious when he forgot my birthday for the first time ever because he was so focused on HER birthday, which came a few days after mine. Through the years, I met her occasionally, when she would come visit this boy we shared (me as friend, she as girlfriend), but I didn't really get to know her until she married the boy and moved to my city. We clicked almost immediately. Soon, the boy was wondering how his wife and his friend had become such good friends and he seemed to be left on the outside. Over the years he's adjusted!

Today, Friend M and I shared a leisurely lunch as we do every month or so. This is about the only time we see each other any more so we savor the time together. The timing could not have been better for me. At the end of this hellish week, I needed a friend and a bit of debriefing. Hopefully I'll be a better friend next time and it won't be all about me. (Though I did get to hear a bit about her boys and their exploits and her new niece and her soon-to-be-niece-or-nephew.)

Thanks M for letting me rant and ramble and whine today. And God bless us both as we head into the holidays playing family politics!

But I WANT the 4.0!!!

2011-11-18T16:40:00.000-08:00

(From 11/16)
Thankful for DaddyDoodle!

Yesterday was bad. I hit an all-time low for myself so far in grad school. A big part of it was that I'm tired and have studied like crazy and really need a break. A bigger part of it was this: I calculated grades in my classes (BAD idea at this point in the semester). I'm passing with quite acceptable grades in all my classes but my scores aren't what I would like them to be.

After running the numbers, I realized that my GPA for the semester will be far below what I am used to receiving and I worried that my scholarship might be in jeopardy. Why, you might ask, would I think I'm going to lose my scholarship when I'm doing acceptable in the program (even if not by my own standards)? I've heard of merit scholarships that aren't renewed when the student drops below a certain gradepoint. What if I drop below that gradepoint? So I looked back at everything I've received about my scholarship for what the magical "you don't get any more money" cutoff is. Couldn't find it. Maybe there isn't a magical cutoff? But in my crazy state I couldn't actually believe that there weren't hoops to jump through to maintain my scholarship.

So I decided to send an email to the nice folks in financial aid to see what they have to say about my ongoing ability to remain enrolled at LUS. Fortunately, before I hit "send" I cried on the phone to DaddyDoodle. "I'm going to lose my scholarship and then where will I be and this whole impossible 4 months will have been for nothing and I'll never be a nurse practitioner."

Yay DaddyDoodle! He talked me down from my point of craziness. What good would it do, he pointed out, if I knew whether or not my scholarship was in jeopardy? It's not like I can go back in time and study harder/differently and fix those exams in the past, right? "But what if I can't go back???" I sobbed. "Stop being silly. Of course you can go back. Even if they take away the money. We'll just have to take out the loans we didn't before because we didn't need them. Not to mention that we've already saved a big chunk of the total tuition for the whole program so that's way less money than if you hadn't gotten the scholarship in the first place."

I deleted the unsent email. I stopped crying. And for the rest of the day I imagined DaddyDoodle riding a white horse and dressed in full armor. He didn't actually fix anything. But his reassurance means everything to me. No matter what, I'm going to make it to Pinning next August!

Still thankful despite all appearances.

2011-11-15T22:26:00.000-08:00

Today:
Thankful for FABULOUS shoes that get me through the worst of days. Picture to follow when I have time and energy. I only cried 6 times today. Might have been more if it weren't for the shoes.

Yesterday:
Thankful for silly childhood memories. Also picture and story to follow. Hopefully soon. Should lighten up after Thursday.

One exam down. Two more to go. Then I rest.

Is it MS or a GI bleed?

2011-11-13T22:45:00.000-08:00

Thankful that I don't really have all those diseases I'm convinced I have after a day of studying.

It's what's for dinner!

2011-11-12T23:11:00.000-08:00

Thankful for frozen pizza.

Because sometimes you're hungry and too tired to cook.

Whimsical

2011-11-11T23:11:00.000-08:00

Thankful for Whimsy

11/11/11 There's something magical about all the numbers being the same. MonkeyDoodle and I marked the moment with a screen shot of my phone at 11:11 today. Sitting in the car in a parking garage on a rainy day. Then we got out of the car and walked to the paint-it-yourself pottery place and painted pottery with "1s" featured prominently. It was just another Friday, except it was special because the numbers were all the same. Sometimes you need to stop and celebrate the silly things that don't really matter.

Yesterday I saw trees with colorful sweaters. A whole downtown city park full of them.

These things are whimsical and they make me smile.

Thanks Dad!

2011-11-10T16:30:00.000-08:00

Thankful for my my dad.
Today my dad would have turned 66. This is the 23rd birthday that I've observed without him, for him.

I am thankful that I had an amazing, vibrant man as my dad. That from my dad I learned to be friendly to everyone and that there are no strangers, only friends you haven't yet met. That the last thing I remember him saying to me was "I'm proud of you."

2011-11-10T16:18:00.001-08:00

November 9:
Thankful for Friends:
The new friends who can commiserate as we go through this thing called grad school together
And the old friends who keep me going an understand my inability to deal with other aspects of life right now.

Patriotic duty

2011-11-10T15:09:00.000-08:00

Forgot to post yesterday but thought about it all day. (And now it's two days later and I'm even further behind. Alas. The story of my life.)

Thankful that I can freely vote.

While I'm often cynical about whether or not my vote actually matters, I ALWAYS vote. (Okay, maybe not always. I sometimes skip the off year primaries.)

My grandmother was a precinct organizer when I was a kid. Every November, on the first Tuesday after a Monday, Grandma would be in my elementary school cafeteria checking people in when they came to vote. Then, in the evening, after my dad got home from work, the whole family would walk to the school (usually in the dark) so my parents could vote. We waited in line until it was our turn to go into the booth behind the curtain. BigSis always went with Mom and I always went with Dad.

Once inside the booth, Dad pulled a lever to close the curtain. I looked up at the switches beside the names. Dad was always reverent as he flipped the switches indicating his decisions. I learned early that voting is a responsibility to be taken seriously.

The voting booths are gone. In my state, we don't even have polling places to go to; we all vote absentee. There IS still an option to drop a ballot at a drop box. I like that vote-by-mail is convenient and allows people to vote when they may have difficulty physically getting to a polling place. But I miss the ceremony surrounding voting. I want to pull a curtain and flip levers. I guess I'll have to settle for dropping my ballot at the ballot box by the library.

Funny-looking vegetables

2011-11-07T20:29:00.000-08:00

Thankful for funny-looking vegetables that taste good.

Yum!

Purple Baked Potato

The purple potatoes came in our CSA basket last week. I usually boil these and serve them in potato salad or plain with butter. Unfortunately they lose most of their color as they cook in the water. These were larger than usual so I thought I'd bake them instead and see if they would maintain their lovely color. As you can see, they did. Also, they were delicious! Smoother than normal bakers. Hoping for more of these large purple potatoes to show up in my basket!

Broccoli Romanesco

The broccoli romanesco was not in the basket. It was sitting in a prime spot at the farm stall when I picked up the basket at the farmer's market. Romanesco is one of my favorite vegetables EVER! I discovered it a few years ago when I spotted it at the farmer's market and couldn't walk away from its intriguing beauty. While called "broccoli" it is actually quite similar to cauliflower. My favorite way to prepare it is oven roasted with a bit of olive oil, salt, and pepper. Then I toss it with pasta. At least that's the plan. Usually only about half actually makes it as far as the pasta. We love it so much that it just goes straight from the baking tray to our mouths. The pasta is superfluous.

Evolving thoughts on Creationism

2011-11-06T20:39:00.000-08:00

**Edited to add link to sermon mentioned below.**

Thankful for the coexistence of science and faith.

I don't think I would have said that before tonight. For the past few weeks I've known that this sermon was coming. In this world fraught with the debate/divide/war between evolution and creation, our pastor has decided to do a series on Genesis 1. We haven't been going to church here for long, only about 6 months, and I didn't quite know what to expect. I wasn't really expecting "this is the way it's written so this must be the way it happened. Literally." But I also wasn't expecting "It's all allegorical and isn't it a lovely story" either. I wasn't really sure how someone could convincingly preach that both could be right.

Tonight's sermon was an introduction to the conflict between science and faith and how they can peacefully coexist and must inform each other. (The sermon podcast hasn't yet been posted. I'll provide a link when it is. Definitely worth listening to, I think.) The gist of the sermon, at least what I came away with, is that there is a long history of things being taken as fact that have later been accepted as based on from the worldview of the authors of the Bible at the time it was written and no longer considered fact. (You really need to listen to the sermon. He says it so much more eloquently than I do!) Does anyone still think Galileo was wrong about the whole earth revolving around the sun thing?

I actually took notes tonight. Something I rarely do in church. Here's the thing that struck me huge. Probably because I think it's such a part of my faith/non-faith journey.

People grow up taught that the Bible (and one particular interpretation of the Bible) is the truth that trumps prevailing science NO MATTER THE CONTEXT. So what happens when the kid grows up and starts believing the prevailing science? Fork in the road -- must choose one or the other. Kid has learned that both can't be right but sees evidence of science. Has learned that people of science CAN NOT be people of faith.

I'm a nurse. A field that, of necessity, merges science and spirituality (faith?). I was taught that every word in the Bible is literal and that to deny literal translation or consider portions of it allegorical was heresy. (Except the whole Song of Solomon thing. That must be allegorical because the Bible couldn't really have a part about sex, right?) So what kind of Christian can I be if I buy into the science that I have learned and see evidenced before me. (Now, before you get all "Intelligent Design" on me, let me note that for me the jury is still out on evolution and how much of a hand a creator had in the evolution process.)

Another point the pastor made was about the credibility of Christians who are dogmatic about mattters of faith/science to the world at large. From St. Augustine (via the church bulletin):

Usually, even a non-Christian knows something about the earth, the heavens, and . . . this knowledge he holds to as being certain from reason and experience. Now, it is a disgraceful and dangerous thing for an infidel to hear a Christian, presumably giving the meaning of Holy Scripture, talking nonsense on these topics; and we should take all means to prevent such an embarrassing situation, in which people show up vast ignorance in a Christian and laugh it to scorn. . . . If they find a Christian mistaken in a field which they themselves know well and hear him maintaining his foolish opinions about our books, how are they going to believe those books in matters concerning the resurrection of the dead, the hope of eternal life, and the kingdom of heaven, when they think their pages are full of falsehoods on facts which themselves have learnt from experience and the light of reason?

How can Christians expect non-Christians to take seriously the important parts of the gospel--the resurrection, grace, forgiveness, etc--if non-Christians think Christians are just blindly believing (and dogmatically preaching) the stuff that goes against science and, sometimes, common sense?

If you're reading this and have any thoughts about science and faith and how YOU either manage to allow them to coexist or can't bring the two together in harmony, I'd love to hear about it. I'll get the sermon link posted as soon as it shows up.

Rescuing horses and kids

2011-11-06T01:14:00.000-07:00

Thankful for the great people who run the rescue barn/foundation where MonkeyDoodle rides and helps take care of the horses.

Her confidence has grown by leaps and bounds as she has learned to care for the horses. The horses at the foundation have all been abandoned or were headed for slaughter before someone stepped them in and brought them to the rescue where they will have a forever home. Many of the horses are elderly and are retired, just living out their natural lives. Others are rehabilitated and become "school horses," the horses that the students ride as they are learning. This summer, a mare and her foal came to live at the farm. The students have learned about caring for a young horse and will participate in her training as she grows.

The foundation teaches students at all levels of experience. The older, more experienced students teach the younger students. So, in addition to learning about horsemanship, the students are learning about mentoring and being mentored.

When MonkeyDoodle started at the barn last January, she would barely walk up to the horses. She needed lots of coaxing to help groom her horse before riding. It was months before she would pick up and clean a foot. Now she provides all the care for her assigned horse. She also goes to the barn early each week to clean stalls and help care for the retired horses, in addition to caring for her own horse.

Today MonkeyDoodle cantered for the first time. Afterward, the high-school student who was teaching her lesson today gave her a high five and told her to hug her horse. She talked about it all afternoon.

This stuff is huge for a kid who has forgotten how to believe in herself.

November is for giving thanks

2011-11-04T19:51:00.000-07:00

I have a friend whose status updates for the month of November are things she's thankful for. (Hi Friend KT!) I remember this from her last year and perhaps the year before. I remember thinking it's a great idea and I should do it next year. Which is this year. But of course, I didn't remember. Until today, when I realized that her last few updates have started with "Thankful for."

Last November I was just trying to remember to keep breathing and couldn't focus on being thankful. This year I've decided to follow KT's lead and will use the month of November to express gratitude. Since I missed a few days, I'm going to go back and catch up.

Tuesday, November 1 - Thankful for the opportunity/ability to cook slow-simmering pasta sauce on a crisp fall day.
Wednesday, November 2 - Thankful for the opportunity to get out of the house and study alongside new friends who are working on their own things. (I'll have to write about the co-working group I've joined on another day.)
Thursday, November 3 - In the midst of crazy studying, too many exams, and a very boring lecture, thankful for the incredible opportunity I have to study at LUS.

Now that I'm caught up, here's what I'm thankful for today, November 4 -
Thankful for the fact that I can afford to maintain my health insurance through COBRA and don't have to forgo healthcare to pay the mortgage or buy groceries.

Today I went to the district office of the school district I left in June. Though I last worked in June, my benefits continued until September 30, due to the nature of school employee contracts. A few days after October 1, I received a letter explaining what I needed to do to maintain my and MonkeyDoodle's health benefits through the school district. It was going to be expensive. Very expensive. DaddyDoodle and I crunched the numbers and figured out how to pay the premiums until the end of the year, at which time we will move over to DaddyDoodle's comparably lousy insurance. (It's quite a long story about why we didn't just move over now, but the short version is that it's actually cheaper for us to pay the COBRA premiums for the rest of the year than it is for us to pay the high deductible we would end up paying on DaddyDoodle's insurance.)

So today, I filled out the paperwork and wrote a check for a lot of money. Money we wouldn't have if I were truly out of work and our family was in need of insurance. If I were truly uninsured, I'd have to figure out which of my medications I REALLY need to stay healthy in the face of potentially devastating chronic illnesses that are kept at bay by VERY expensive medications. Real people that are uninsured can't come up with $500-800 per month to pay for medication. And that doesn't include any appointments with the providers that keep me and MonkeyDoodle healthy.

I'm thankful for health insurance. And I wish that everyone else had the opportunity to be thankful for it, too.

A year later

2011-11-04T18:21:00.000-07:00

This was one year ago today. The day I drove MonkeyDoodle to the hospital and left without her.

I don't quite know what to say about it except that it feels like a journey that will never end. I wonder if I'll mark this day every year?

Blah blah blah!

2011-11-03T21:56:00.000-07:00

Blah blah blah heart failure blah blah positive inotrope blah blah blah. I LOVE heart failure. How in the world is this professor making it so desperately tedious? For the first time in this program, I'm about ready to bail on the lecture because OMG she should NOT be allowed to drone on and make something interesting so very boring!

That is all.

Except that I still haven't figured out what to do about the poopy neighbor.

Now back to diuretics and beta blockers. Did you know that diuretics don't improve outcome, that they're just used for comfort? THIS is new information for me. Perhaps it might be worth the blahs to learn something new.

Stupid middle class drama

2011-11-01T10:20:00.000-07:00

Warning: Petty neighborhood whiny-ness ahead. I'm well aware of the fact that this is completely a first-world problem. It still pisses me off!

One of our neighbors does not clean up after his/her dog. There has been poop in the grassy strip between the sidewalk and the street and we step in it far too often. This has been a recent development, started about 2-3 months ago. We've been pretty sure we know who it is. The same person who staged an "intervention" with another neighbor when she wasn't happy with where our dogs were pooping. Mind you, we ALWAYS cleaned up; they just weren't happy about where the poop initially touched the ground. Did I mention that we started to get soiled shoes about the same time the dog appeared at her house?

This morning, I saw said neighbor out in the grassy strip with her dog. She was wearing flip-flops and a too-small bath robe and carrying a cup of coffee. She did not carry a poop bag. I didn't actually see the dog squat but it looked like there was some pooping goin' on. She saw me, called the dog to her, and carried her coffee and herself back into the house.

About 10 minutes later, I went outside to see if there was poop. There was fresh poop. I can't tell you how desperately I wanted to channel the juvenile delinquent in me and put it in a bag on her doorstep, light it on fire, ring the doorbell and run. I didn't. I pondered my options, leaving the poop where it landed in the grass.

I will go back out to pick up the poop as soon as I figure out what to do next. My options as I see them:

Juvenile delinquent as mentioned above.
Leave the bag of poop, unlit, on the doorstep.
Leave the bag of poop, unlit, with a note that reads "Clean up after your dog" on the doorstep.
Dispose of the poop, leave a note on the door asking that she clean up after her dog.
Ring the doorbell, hand her the poop, and ask her to please start cleaning up after her dog.
Ring the doorbell, hand her a roll of poop bags, and tell her that, while I can't be sure it's her and I'd like to give her the benefit of the doubt, it appears that the poop that we've all been stepping in has come out of her dog. Can she please start cleaning up? I'll also mention that I got it this time.
Do nothing and continue to stew about it.

I think I'm going to go with option 6. I'll let you know how it goes.

Hoo-hoos and boy bits

2011-10-27T21:50:00.000-07:00

I have things I need to do. Like sleep. Today was day five in Lovely City. Labs and/or classes for about 6-8 hours each day. This morning was Head-to-Toe Assessment skills check off. Those who know what I'm talking about can probably relate to the stress I was under and understand the complete relief I feel now that it's over. I haven't yet reviewed the tape but I think the only thing I didn't do on the exam was evaluate the TMJ for crepitus. On the history, I forgot to ask about living situation, immediate family, and social support. But all-in-all, not bad, I think. I still have to complete the write-up but I'm about half finished with that already and I have 5 days left to finish. Hoping to finish it tomorrow before I leave Lovely City on Saturday.

This afternoon was male/female reproductive/GU assessment. That means I learned to do breast exams, pelvic exams, and exams of all the boy parts as well. It was actually a great experience! (If you're squeamish about these things, you might want to skip the rest of this post. You've been warned!)

At Lovely University, these sensitive exams are taught by "genito-urinary teaching assistants:" men and women who instruct 2-3 students at a time, using their own bodies to demonstrate the techniques and patiently guiding the students through the procedures. This was possibly one of the best learning experiences I've ever had and likely ever will have. These professionals know their bodies well enough and are so skilled at instruction that they were able to put us at ease and help us learn these procedures so that we will hopefully be more at ease when practicing our skills on actual patients.

Today I performed multiple breast exams, visualized a cervix, and palpated ovaries and a uterus (among other things that are really too specific to write here). Before going into the room, I was completely nervous about how I was going to actually do this part of being a nurse practitioner. By the time my lab partner and I walked out of the room, I was confident that I could do these things on an actual patient. I'm certainly not competent to do these exams on my own yet, but I will be and it won't be weird, just part of what I do every day.

I also learned about the boy bits. Technically, the boy parts are much easier to examine. In reality, it will probably take much longer for me to not be weirded out by doing the male exam.

Tomorrow is a short day. Just 4 hours of reading EKGs then the intensive week is officially over. I don't get to leave until the next day but I'll be home in time for dinner!

Glutton for Punishment

2011-10-22T01:52:00.000-07:00

It's 1:30 a.m. and I leave for the airport in 2.5 hours. I'm not completely packed yet. So I'm writing on my blog. That makes sense, right?

This week has been crazy hard. I don't think I've ever studied so hard in my life for results that weren't what I hoped for. MonkeyDoodle has been needy and I've hardly been around or able to focus when I am around because all I can think about it what's coming next in school and what it will take for me to catch up.

I learned/remembered two important things this week:
1. I noticed that the "I can't do this and this is the biggest mistake I've made in my life and what was I thinking" panic only lasts about half an hour. Granted, it happens most days and sometimes more than once a day. But if I can remind myself that it will pass in a few minutes, it's easier to ignore it and get back to what needs to be done.
2. I remembered that fabulous shoes make me feel better about just about anything. Since starting school, I have been wearing nurse's shoes. Danskos. They're quite comfortable but there's not a single thing fabulous about them. And if you know me at all, you know that I love me some fabulous non-nurse shoes! So I wore my new shoes with big bows and dusted off some of my other favorites. While packing this evening, I thought in terms of what shoes I wanted to take and then what clothes I should wear with the shoes, not the other way around.

I WILL make it through this year. One well-dressed footstep at a time.

P.S. I've been taking my pictures. Hope to have time to get caught up on posting them in the next few days.

On the train

2011-10-16T18:01:00.000-07:00

Taking a bit of a study break. On this train ride I'm watching a lecture that is 1.5 hours long. We've been on the train for nearly 3 hours and I'm only just a bit more than 30 minutes into the lecture. I've been watching it the whole time, stopping to take notes as needed. Crazy-dense lecture! I a bit frustrated about that as I was planning to finish it on the train ride and be able to cross another thing off my list. Alas, I think I may not sleep much tonight; I need to finish before bed. Two exams this week and I'm nowhere near ready for either of them!

Today was a wonderful day with MonkeyDoodle. We slept a bit late, packed, and headed out for coffee/hot chocolate. More browsing at Powell's (no buying today), a visit to Sur la Table (where I was pleasantly surprised to find a Le Creuset that I don't already have in a color I've yet to get, on sale at a fabulous price, not including the extra 10% saved by not paying sales tax!), and a stop at the Doc Marten store where MonkeyDoodle got her first pair of Docs. Photos of the fabulous purchases to follow soon.

Must get back to the lecture now. Only about 40 minutes left on the train. That's enough to get some worthwhile studying done, right?

Girls' Weekend, Part 2

2011-10-15T22:42:00.000-07:00

We slept in. Until almost noon.

Then we went back to our favorite restaurant for lunch and headed to the Portland Saturday Market. Lots of fun crafty stuff. MonkeyDoodle spent some allowance on lovely jewelry and I bought a new hair clip. Exciting stuff, right?

Back to the hotel for more relaxing for MonkeyDoodle and studying for me. I took this picture of my study plan:

I made this plan while traveling home from lovely city last time. It lists all the lectures I need to watch/attend and exams I need to take between September 26 (the beginning of my time at home) and the end of the semester (sometime in December). I look at it almost every day. And even though there's a lot of stuff that needs to get done, for some reason it calms me when I feel overwhelmed. I think it's because some of those things have check marks over them. I'm actually done with some of it! And I can see, quite clearly, what still needs to be done. I pick something that hasn't yet been checked off and I have a direction for that study session. I can't wait for the picture at the end of the semester that has everything crossed off!

Today's real picture of the day is this:

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We went to Powell's City of Books (a requirement for every visit to Portland!) and bought some books after about 3 hours of leisurely browsing. MonkeyDoodle picked up a couple novels and I picked up a couple text/reference books. At the check-out they had a basket of Pop Rocks. "What are Pop Rocks?" MonkeyDoodle asked. WHAT? It was time to introduce my child to a part of childhood that she had somehow been missing out on. She loved them!

(In the lower left corner of the photo you'll notice the other thing that I forgot to mention about today. I picked up a little point & shoot camera that will fit in my pocket and can go anywhere with me. A bit more versatile than my iPhone. So far I'm happy with the pictures but I'm too lazy to download tonight. Perhaps tomorrow.

Girls' Weekend, Part 1

2011-10-15T22:16:00.000-07:00

MonkeyDoodle didn't have school on Friday so we took a train ride to Portland for a Girls' Weekend. I don't have the time to give up studying and the trip couldn't be at a more inconvenient time, but it was necessary.

My grandmother is 93 and her health has been rapidly declining. MonkeyDoodle loves Great Grandma fiercely. She was worried that she might die before they could see each other again. So we went for a visit. I really hope it won't be the last but I think there's a good chance it will be. On the other hand, Grandma could fool us all and keep going a lot longer.

After our visit with Great Grandma, we got on with the Girls' Weekend part of our trip. We went to one of our favorite restaurants for dinner and stayed up late in the hotel; me studying and MonkeyDoodle playing her DS or reading or who knows what!

Two pictures for the start of Girls' Weekend:

Even on the train ride, I was diligent about studying!

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After visiting Great Grandma, we visited the hospital chapel for a few peaceful moments.

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2011-10-15T21:54:00.000-07:00

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New Jeans!

Finally, I'm doing something ahead of schedule!

2011-10-12T23:15:00.000-07:00

On the first day of orientation, the Dean of Academic Affairs stood behind the podium and told us that there would come a point, most likely sometime in January or February, that every one of us would say "enough." I reached that point ahead of schedule. Yesterday, at about 3:06 p.m.

I gave myself a pep talk, remembered that I was a couple doses overdue on my antidepressant, and started studying again this morning. Whenever I look at the big picture, I get so discouraged. I sigh in despair of getting it all done, turn on the TV, and pour myself a glass of wine. Not very productive.

My new plan is to try to stay away from the big picture as much as possible. Do what's in front of me. It's all I CAN do. Every once in a while I need to look at the big picture to make sure I'm keeping the pieces organized correctly. But as much as possible, it needs to be about the baby steps that will take me the whole mile.

(I think that's quite enough metaphors for one blog post.)

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A festive craft for last night's P.E.O. meeting.
I was still in a funk when we made them.
Mine's the one without a face.

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More bus stop beauty!

Bus stop

2011-10-12T22:13:00.000-07:00

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Walking to MonkeyDoodle's bus stop 2 blocks from home is a beautiful experience in the fall!

Everyone goes home happy!

2011-10-12T21:35:00.000-07:00

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This festive pail was on the table of the Milk Fund auction. LittleSis is on the board of this wonderful charity, which assists single parents with practical financial assistance so they may attend college, obtain a degree, and lift themselves and their families out of poverty. LittleSis sponsored a table at the auction and the whole extended Doodle family attended.

I had never been to a charity auction before and it was great fun. I could get addicted! DaddyDoodle and I bid on many items and won two: a family pack of tickets to the zoo and two refurbished antique chairs. What a deal! The Milk Fund got some of our money, we got some great chairs, we were FINALLY able to get rid of our couch, and (thanks to Craigslist) some lucky new-to-the-city roommates were able to obtain a very used, but still functional, couch without dumpster diving (as they apparently were for other household items). Win, win, win, win situation! The estimated total of proceeds from the auction was $90,000!

New Chair

Old Couch

309 Update

2011-10-09T01:28:00.000-07:00

I've been taking pictures, just not posting them regularly. Here's an update.

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This is a comment on an article in the NY Times about physicians demanding a law preventing Doctoral-Level Nurses from referring to themselves as doctors. The whole thing seems to me to speak more to physicians' insecurities than to concern for patient understanding and/or outcomes. I LOVED this comment about MAs being called nurses. I find this more misleading than a doctoral prepared nurse introducing herself as "Dr. Doodle, a nurse practitioner." Many times I've requested specifically to speak to the "NURSE" at my physician's office, only to be transferred to the MA, who is not qualified to answer the question I have, not only by education, but by state-mandated scope of practice. A nurse practitioner trying to pass him/herself off as a physician is unconscionable. However, mandating that an educated professional not be able to use an earned honorific is just plain petty. (Just to be clear, if I pursue the Doctor of Nursing Practice degree, and even as a Master's Prepared Nurse Practitioner, I will NEVER intentionally lead a patient or anyone else to believe that I am a physician. That having been said, if I earn, through extensive education, the right to be referred to by the honorific "doctor" I reserve the right to do so. Probably won't because it's pretentious. I prefer to be called Mama. Maybe Dr. Doodle for a few minutes when I have that fancy diploma in my hand . . .)

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This is the uncropped picture of the little beastie.

This guy and a few of his friends had taken up residence on MonkeyDoodle's head. I spent much of the day either removing them from MonkeyDoodle's hair or sitting while LittleSis combed through my hair, removing some little beasties from my head. Not a pleasant way to spend the day!

Occupy 4th Avenue

2011-10-08T22:06:00.000-07:00

**This post was written yesterday (10/7) but I forgot to push "publish"**

This was going to be my picture today:

I had a really great lunch with Friend M and took this picture at the end of the meal. Getting out of the house after an exam is experiencing the real world, right?

Then, while running errands after lunch, I ran across this and thought it a much better subject for today's musings:

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This is a small sample of our local "Occupy Wall Street" demonstration. The blue sign in the middle of the photo expresses how I feel about what's going on as the rich get richer and the middle class join the impoverished and no one thinks about the homeless anymore as we're all just trying to avoid losing our own homes and joining them. When I was looking at the photo uploaded onto my computer, I noticed the "Bank of America" sign above the protesters' heads. I unintentionally captured a real live bit of irony with my camera!

I'm still not sure what I think of the Occupy Wall Street movement. At first I was frustrated with the lack of focus. A few hundred showed up in the New York financial district expressing non-specific anger. They were pissed at the wealthy and the politicians and wanted to somehow stop the crony-ism between the two (one?) groups.

The media seemed to agree with me. "Make a point, already or we'll look at some other 'real' news story" the media seemed to demand. And the media DID look elsewhere for their stories and the late-night comedians didn't even start mocking until about 2 weeks after the "occupation" started. I admit to being right there with the scoffers when the protesters first showed up. "Bunch of spoiled middle-class kids who will someday likely join the ranks of the bankers," I thought to myself.

Now I'm not so sure. An Op-Ed in yesterday's New York Times compares the seemingly aimless protests now spreading to cities throughout the country to the Arab Spring that has been sweeping through the Middle East since last December. That Op-Ed, along with Paul Krugman's column in today's NY Times, offers reasons why the politicos should take this protest seriously and offers some concrete demands that could be incorporated to a more organized protest.

Just minutes after seeing the protesters, I heard someone on NPR discussing the concept of "Moral Budgeting." He spoke about a budget that cuts funding for public housing while at the same time providing tax breaks at approximately the same amount for people to claim on their second homes. And of cuts to programs that would assist with heating energy for the poor while increasing subsidies given to energy companies. (I've been searching for a couple hours and can't find the audio of the show I was listening to, though I can place exactly WHERE I was in my car at the moment I heard these appalling statistics! If I ever find the interview, I'll post a link.)

I don't know what to do to help this movement go forward. In an ideal world, I'd put helping this cause of pointing out misplaced priorities near the top of MY list of priorities. However, I'm a bit distracted by all the other things going on in my life at the moment. I wish the protesters well, and hope that their legitimate cries to be heard land on the ears of those who should be doing the listening and that the listeners will respond appropriately.

I'm tired of bailing out banks when the victims of the unethical bankers are left penniless.

Alternate methods of studying

2011-10-07T01:36:00.000-07:00

It's 1:30 a.m. I have an exam starting at 10 a.m. I still need to learn more about cardiac disease and primary care considerations for the nurse practitioner. So I'm awake and diligently studying, right?

Not so much. I spent about an hour reading a message board on the New York Times health blog that I may or may not write about tomorrow (later today). Then I realized I hadn't yet checked out my daily blog reads. In doing so, I found something that prompted me to look back to the beginning of this blog and see if I could figure out when I started following another blog. I didn't figure it out. But I did start reading some of my early blog entries. Reading them took me back almost two years ago to what seems like a different life. And now, about 1.5 hours later I'm writing a new post. Hypertension awaits and I can't seem to escape the brain-sucking clutches of the interwebs.

I think I may need an intervention. Or perhaps just a few hours of sleep if I'm not going to actually look at my notes. I wonder if putting the text under my pillow would help me on this exam?

Farewarell to the last bit of summer

2011-10-04T20:26:00.000-07:00

4/309

This salad has been featured for the past few months at a restaurant I used to frequent. Warm croutons, heirloom tomatoes, fresh mozzarella, parsley, balsamic vinaigrette, and just the right amount of crunchy sea salt on a simple white plate have been bringing me back to my old haunt for the past 2 months. The salad varied from day to day, depending on the variety of what was fresh. Once all the tomatoes were yellow. Another time there were purple, red, yellow, and even green tomatoes. Whatever the color or flavor variation, it was always perfect. I knew it couldn't last forever; it just wouldn't work with regular tomatoes.

When I ordered today, I asked how much longer the salad would be around. "Today's the last day."

That's it. Summer is officially over. The trees are turning a lovely red. The mornings are crisp. I've pulled out sweaters and have resumed ordering hot drinks at Starbucks. And the tomato salad is gone until next summer. I'm glad I got in on its last day. And I'll be happy to greet it's return next summer.

Now it's time for some cassoulet. Hear that Friend K? Let's make a cassoulet date soon!

Who am I Kidding?

2011-10-03T19:53:00.000-07:00

I keep thinking I've established balance between studying and real life. Thing is, I think the studying may be the real life right now. MonkeyDoodle is home sick today and, except for the occasional cup of tea, she's pretty much been taking care of herself while I study. I DID manage to step away from Pathophysiology long enough to make yummy vegetable soup featuring yesterday's CSA items. So, for today, 2 pictures. One from my reality and one from the shadow life that I continue to try to maintain.

Vegetable Beef soup made with fresh veggies from the CSA basket!

Now bring on the Pharmacology!

Too Easy!

2011-10-02T22:10:00.000-07:00

2/309

Today was Farmer's Market day and the light was perfect. I couldn't pick just one so today you get 4.

This couple began spontaneously dancing to the busker playing Folsom Prison Blues.

My basket of bounty. The flowers were purchased. Everything else was part of our CSA basket. This week we had corn, kale, broccoli, rainbow carrots (tucked up behind the flowers), bell peppers, chard, and garlic. Possibly more but that's all I remember!

309

2011-10-01T23:35:00.000-07:00

I did the math. 309 days until pinning. I have a lot to learn in those 309 days. Better get back to it!

365. Again.

2011-10-01T22:58:00.000-07:00

A friend I met at LUS likes to take pictures. In fact her blog, Just a Girl Behind a Camera, celebrates her love of photography. Somehow, she has never done a 365 project. Before I left Lovely City last time, we challenged each other to start a 365 on October 1.

So here it is, October 1. I took exactly one picture today. A very boring picture, indeed. Today was full of P.E.O. coffee, studying, taking PuppyDoodle to the vet for a cough, studying, fixing yummy dinner, taking MonkeyDoodle to urgent care for a sore throat, and more studying. Here's the boring photo:

It ain't much, but it's a photo. Perhaps better tomorrow?

What am I thinking jumping in to this with so much else going on? I actually think it's the perfect time for this. I'm already noticing life flying by with me too busy to notice with my nose stuck in my books. If I have to look up to take a picture, perhaps I'll catch and remember something that otherwise would have gone unnoticed. I love to look back over my previous 365 and get glimpses of what was happening each day. Perhaps my 365 of Grad School will be full of boring pictures of everyday life things like taking the dog to the vet. But at least I'll remember the day that PuppyDoodle went to the vet for a cough and the vet and I discussed the merits of treating her with a broad spectrum antibiotic vs. a narrow spectrum antibiotic. I'm such a nerd!

I might set a "guideline" that my pictures should be about real life, not school/clinicals. I say should because I know that some days are going to be all about school, no matter what. But I really want this to represent my LIFE outside school. I want this to be an opportunity to keep up with what else is happening in my world.

P.S. Just realized that this should end the day Grad School ends. So that's less than 365! I'll look at a calendar and do the math another day.

Lifestyle changes imminent!

2011-09-23T14:00:00.000-07:00

Just finished my 2nd week of in-person classes at LUS. During the weeks we're on campus, they cram in a ton of lecture and labs. 5-7 hours a day. Somewhere on Tuesday I lost track of what day it was and thought that surely it must be Friday tomorrow?

This block we learned a lot about chronic disease management and lifestyle factors that affect disease. I now feel like I need to lose about 50 pounds and increase my exercise 10-fold. Only exaggerating a little. At least I don't need to worry about quitting smoking since I never started.

I like to think that when I get home I'll immediately institute some changes. But I'm pretty realistic and know that the all-in approach rarely works. However, I am in a really unique place where I'm trying to figure out what will work for my new schedule and I might as well throw exercise and meal planning into the mix. I have 7 hours between when MonkeyDoodle gets on the bus and when she gets off again. Surely I can figure out sometime during the day to carve out for exercise/activity. MonkeyDoodle dances 3 hours a week. I can certainly use that time for meal planning and grocery shopping.

I had plans to do this before coming to this block and it didn't work. But most of my plans didn't work because I didn't stick to my calendar. Not only did I not stick to my calendar, I hadn't even actually put exercise on the calendar. It's there now. Every morning after I drop MonkeyDoodle at the bus for at least 1/2 hour. Who's going to need me before 8, anyway?

This week, as I struggled to keep up with my fellow students, I realized that I have to do much better at this studying thing. It's not optional if I'm going to do well. So I MUST stick to my calendar!

I'll let you know how it goes. And you, as my internet peeps, have permission to keep me on task.

Productive Day?

2011-09-15T21:44:00.000-07:00

Today I made jam. Two batches.

And soup. Even though no one would be home for dinner. But it was a fallish sort of day so there must be soup, right?

And cookies. What? I was craving chocolate!

A bit of grocery shopping and some laundry and revised my to-do list.

Why was I so productive? Probably something to do with the exam at 5 a.m. that I didn't really want to study for.

I DID manage to get a bit of studying in. Off to bed now and will review my notes once more before sleeping. If I don't do well, I know I deserve it.

But the soup was good. And the cookies.

I Ate Cake

2011-09-11T23:49:00.000-07:00

I had plans to eat pink champagne cake with a friend. My first time to try this amazing concoction from a neighborhood bakery.

We ate cake and alternately cried and sat in stunned silence.

Somehow, I still love that cake, even making up reasons to visit that town where I no longer live so I can bring home a slice.

With every bite I remember that day. And I'm glad I ate cake with my friend.

Eating cake that day helped to ensure that my life could continue without paralysing fear. Fear, yes. Paralysing, no.

As long as I can eat pink champagne cake, the terrorists can not win.

Stupid JC Penney*

2011-09-06T01:25:00.000-07:00

I took my first exam of grad school earlier tonight. It was online and opened at midnight a few time zones away so I was able to take it before heading to bed.

Before the exam, MonkeyDoodle and I were talking about tests. "It's ok if you miss some of the questions, right?"

"Sure. But I want to do my best and I think I can probably get most of them right if I try really hard."

"When I take tests, I want to try to get about 75%. That's enough to pass."

DaddyDoodle and I both stopped what we were doing and looked at her. 75% might be passing but it's likely not the best she can do. She rarely misses more than a couple questions and that's when she's rushing to finish instead of taking the time to actually read the questions.

We both told her that we think she can do better than 75% and that we always expect her to do her best.

"Okay. But not more than 90%. That's too much."

WHAT THE WHAT?

When did MY daughter become afraid of being the smart girl? I've read about this and it was one of the reasons we wanted MonkeyDoodle in a girls' school where she would be encouraged to do her best without the societal pressures to dumb herself down to fit in. Now, two days before starting middle school, I find out that those pressures have already convinced her that it's not okay to be a smart girl.

I did well on my exam tonight. I studied hard, took my time, and checked and rechecked my answers. I'm really proud of the grade I got. I would have been disappointed with less. How do I help MonkeyDoodle find the pride in doing well academically?

*I thought my girl was missing the messages put forward by the idiots at JC Penney and others that think that cute is more imporant than smart for girls. Is this what ANYONE wants for their daughter? I can't do my homework because I need to listen to the new Justin Bieber song? OH PLEASE!!!

By the way, under pressure from outraged NORMAL PEOPLE, JC Penney stopped selling the shirt. But not before telling America exactly what they think of girls. Really! Who buys this crap?

MonkeyDoodle on the verge

2011-09-02T17:01:00.000-07:00

MonkeyDoodle starts middle school on Wednesday. She calls me "Mom" now, instead of Mama. (No, I will NOT become MomDoodle!)

To say that she's excited to start middle school would be an enormous understatement. She can hardly contain herself. "I will just DIE if I have to wait until Wednesday to get my schedule!" Which, by the way, she will have to wait until Wednesday to get.

Another nursing student was mentioning that some students in her psych class had been to a children's psych unit. I remembered that MonkeyDoodle had seen nursing students during her admissions and went back to reread some of my entries from that time (Starting in November 2010).

Reading those entries was a bit like a slap in the face. I was suddenly back in the middle of the uncertainty and constant sadness of those days. At the time I wondered if we'd ever come through it, if we'd ever get MonkeyDoodle back. I wondered if MonkeyDoodle would ever again live life with the unconstrained joy and vivacity she once had.

I still worry about her. After what we've been through, I wonder if I'll ever fully believe she's safe, from the world and from herself.

But for now, she's once again my little girl, on the verge of adolescence and starting middle school next week. She does all the things that girls her age are supposed to do: obsess over Taylor Swift, organize and reorganize her backpack for the first day of school, roll her eyes whenever I suggest something that is too uncool for her to even consider (most things!), email and chat and talk on the phone. It's all good!

Here we go1

2011-08-26T23:46:00.000-07:00

Class ended and we all got up and left. Just like the end of every other Friday-afternoon class I've ever taken. People were anxious to get on to their weekend plans. No one seemed to notice that the weekend plans for most of us involved traveling to our homes a few hundred or (in my case) thousand miles away.

And just like that, I'm a student again.

After 2 days of class, I'm feeling much better about my ability to succeed. Still terrified of cell biology, but ready to discuss when it is or isn't appropriate to prescribe antibiotics for sinus symptoms.

Before the final class, I exchanged phone numbers and facebook accounts with a few people I met over the past few days. "We'll need to keep in touch to encourage each other," A said.

I look forward to the next year, alongside my fellow students who are also undertaking this crazy commitment. While I might be studying alone in my corner of the country, I know I can call on A or C or S at any time for encouragement and I'll be there for them when they need a little boost. What a strange and wonderful year I have ahead of me!

Fabulous, with a side of anxiety

2011-08-24T21:06:00.000-07:00

Orientation at Lovely University of the South started yesterday. "Lovely" is the perfect word to describe this city and university. Except for the Southern heat and humidity, I love it here!

Despite the loveliness, I've spent a fair amount of this time experiencing strong emotions that are far from lovely. Mostly inadequacy. With a bit of deer-in-the-headlights thrown in.

So much reading and studying and exam-taking. And in a year, I'm supposed to be ready to see patients and take care of their health care needs. Who am I to decide whether or not someone needs antibiotics for an infection or if it's a virus that is self-limiting? What have I gotten myself into?

I think the thing that is weighing on me the heaviest is that I'm here with lots of really amazing people (400 new students!) at a very prestigious university and I'm the ONE they picked for the scholarship. What makes ME the worthy one? How do I live up to it? I've always put a lot of pressure on myself to succeed but this is different. Now I feel like if I don't graduate at the top, I've not only let myself down, I've let down the people who picked me for the scholarship as well as all the other worthy students who didn't get picked. When I accepted the scholarship, I didn't think about the pressure to succeed that would accompany it. (I should add that I have received no such pressure from anyone other than myself. At this point, none of my fellow students know that I'm the one who got the scholarship and none of the faculty have done or said anything to imply that they have higher expectations for me than they do for any of the other students.)

Last night I told Friend M about my insecurities. She reminded me that I worked hard to get where I am and they wouldn't have given me the scholarship if I didn't deserve it. She told me to just plod along as I always have and keep doing my best and it will be good enough because it always is. She's right. And I'm as ready as I'm going to be.

She also promised to help me with cell biology. I think the scholarship people have no idea about my star-crossed history with cell biology!

How do I love thee? Let me count the apps.

2011-08-21T19:21:00.000-07:00

I love my iPad! Yep. I'm a complete and utter dork. I love it so much I might marry it, if I were a junior higher and/or I weren't already married.
I got the iPad about 6 weeks ago, when I realized I'd need a solution to the schlepping-textbooks-across-the-country-on-an-airplane problem. No big. Just a device on which to put the textbooks and save my back. A glorified e-reader in a pretty package. Nothing more. Oh, yeah: and Angry Birds.

When I went to the FedEx office to pick up my iPad on July 11, I had no idea of the depth of love that could be had for an electonic device. Sure, I'm a fan of my iPhone and I've grown quite fond of my nook. But I don't think I'd declare undying love for either of them.

My textbooks are loaded and I can quickly toggle between them so I can read one chapter of cell biology, followed by a chapter of special considerations when prescribing for the elderly, and back to cell biology or over to antibiotic resistance. No need to risk putting my back out in order to change subjects for a little variety.

I'm also quite fond of the Where's Waldo app. Move over Angry Birds! If only everyone knew how addicting it is to look for the silly little dude in the red and white stripes!

But the real object of my affection is a little app called ClassOrganizer. It has shown me the power of the iPad. It's not much more than a fancy to-do list that can sync into the calendar. It will also organize my class notes and import documents into my class notes to use for studying. When I start getting grades, it will calculate my grade for me and tell me what I need to score on the next exam to get a specific grade. Heaven in an app for OCD me!

I'm sure that the honeymoon will end someday. Probably sooner rather than later. But even though the honeymoon can't last forever, I imagine iPad and I will have a long, fruitful relationship.

What I've been up to lately

2011-08-18T22:52:00.000-07:00

Haven't written lately because I've been busy. First with this:

Bison, Hayden Valley, Yellowstone

Opal Pool, Midway Geyser Basin, Yellowstone

Grand Tetons reflected in Oxbow Bend of the Snake River

Now with this:

Go ahead and admit it. You're totally jealous of that last bit, right?

I leave for LUS on Monday and I'm about as ready as I'm going to be. Except for the 14 (at last count) chapters assigned before classes start on Thursday. Deep breath. This is going to be fun, right? (Actually, I really loved the first chapter I read: Primary Care Management of the Common Cold. Summary: Don't give in to the demands for antibiotics and recommend tea and chicken soup. And you don't catch a cold from being cold.)

At least I remember how to give injections!

2011-07-23T18:33:00.000-07:00

I've never given an enema.

Unless you're a nurse, you're probably thinking "Well, neither have I. So what's the big deal?"

The big deal is that in about 4 weeks I'll be getting on a plane to head off to LUS where I will join my fellow students, many of whom have been practicing as real hospital nurses since about the time I was in high school. (And my 20th reunion is a few years in the rear view!) The ones who haven't been nurses forever are mostly fresh out of nursing school. So while they may not have done the actual procedure, they at least probably learned about it and can pull out their handy dandy Nursing Procedures and Skills textbook. (Mine is buried somewhere in the depths of the storage unit and has been for at least 2 years.)

The last time I did much real physical patient care was over 5 years ago. Since then I've used my nursing brain A LOT but my nursing hands very little. I'm guessing that as a Nurse Practitioner, my nursing brain is going to be way more important most of the time. It's the times that require my out-of-practice nursing hands that scare me.

Perhaps a visit to the storage unit is in order.

Oh, Waiter!

2011-07-21T22:55:00.000-07:00

I'm deep in my hunt for nurse practitioners who are willing to precept me. For some reason I thought it wouldn't be a big deal. A few phone calls and emails and those nurse practitioners would be begging me to come intern with them.

Not so much. The only ones I've heard back from are in the thanks-but-no-thanks camp. That's most of my initial list of 1o that I carefully compiled from references from friends and fellow medical providers. I also included a few alum from LUS that I could find in the area using Google searches.

Today I expanded my search and added just about all the nurse practitioners I could find in the area and will be making cold calls starting tomorrow morning.

When I was deep in my preceptor search today, MonkeyDoodle said "what's this preceptor thing you keep talking about?" So I told her that I'm looking for someone who's already a nurse practitioner to show me how to be a nurse practitioner.

"Like a waiter?" Huh? "You know. When the waiter is new they follow the old waiter around for a while and bring water and coke and stuff. Then sometimes they take the order but the old waiter is now following the new waiter around."

Brilliant explanation! Now as I head back to the stressful task, I'll smile and think of bringing water to the table. How hard can it really be to find a great waiter to help me learn the ropes?

2011-07-15T20:51:00.001-07:00

My textbooks have been purchased. That doesn't sound like a big deal but it was HUGE. 5 full-size medical textbooks, weighing approximately 8-10 pounds each. Did I mention I'm flying across the country every month and should probably plan to have those books with me? Suddenly ordering textbooks became a logistical nightmare!

E-books! That's an easy solution, right? I have a nook and I can just buy them electronically and take my nook with me to Lovely City and they'll all fit nicely in my handbag and weigh about a pound. Except, while I could find electronic editions that would work on my computer or an iPad, I could only find one of the books I needed that would work on my nook. I'm not likely to read textbooks on my computer; I really don't see that happening. So I added the cost of a refurbished iPad to my textbook budget.

I now have all my textbooks in both hard copy and electronic copy. It took a lot of searching to find them all bundled with an ebook, but I did and I'm glad to be done. The best part (aside from the cool new toy with which to play Angry Birds)? Including the iPad and getting 2 editions of some books, I came in $200 UNDER what I was expecting to play for my textbooks!!!

I put each textbook on my to-do list as a separate item. Little did I know that each would be worth its own item by the time I located the edition that would work for me as I travel back and forth across the country.

I still have a lot to do in the next 6 weeks to get myself and my family ready for the huge lifestyle change. But the tangible evidence (the stack of textbooks currently sitting on my dining room table) of marking off the "textbook" category on my list encourages me that I may be able to get it all done in time.

Now for the rest of the items . . .

Pre-teens and Textbooks and Laundry, Oh My!

2011-07-02T11:58:00.000-07:00

I am freaking out and nervous and stressed. I even ran away from home a bit this morning. Actually, I planned this last night when DaddyDoodle told me he had plans starting at 12:30 today. I’ve been home and been the adult in charge of MonkeyDoodle all week so thought I needed a bit of a break. So I told him that was fine but I was going to be unavailable until noon. So I’m sitting in a café eating a pesto crepe with fresh tomatoes.

What am I so freaked out and nervous and stressed about? Yesterday I got more information about my courses at LUS. It’s going to be HARD. And there’s so much I’ve forgotten from nursing school that I’m going to be expected to remember. I don’t even know where to start to review all that stuff.

I also still need to find clinical preceptors. I’ve started working on that a bit. Basically a google search to identify potential preceptors that are graduates of LUS. I figure that’s my best bet for a place to start. I have a list of about 6 people to contact and I need at least 2 preceptors. Hopefully I’ll get at least 2 out of the ones I’ve identified so far. I’m giving myself the weekend to not work on this and will start on July 5th, when MonkeyDoodle goes to sewing camp for the morning.

Also, our house is a mess and MonkeyDoodle is a pre-teen. As soon as I get home from my morning off, the frenetic cleaning will begin. That should help with the messy house part. Not sure what to do about MonkeyDoodle being a pre-teen. I think she’s stable on her medication and her counseling is working so she’s probably pretty much like any other 11-year-old. It’s like she has blinders on and is completely unaware of anything that isn’t about her.

This morning she spilled a full cup of water on the couch, jumped up and said “well, at least I didn’t get very wet” and walked away. I gave her a towel and told her to dry off the couch. She patted at the couch for a couple seconds before realizing that her sock had gotten wet. “OH NO!! My sock is going to get moldy!!!!” she screamed as she hopped away so her wet sock wouldn’t touch the floor. No concern about the couch at all. Or recognition that this happened because she was careless with a full cup of water sitting next to her on the couch because she couldn’t be bothered to set the water on the end table.

For the past 6-8 months, it’s been difficult to hold her responsible for her actions because scolding/correction could bring on a tantrum that might have her trying to jump out a window or land her in the emergency room. But I think she’s stable now and it’s time to get back to treating her like any other pre-teen. My job as her parent is to help her grow into a productive member of society. Right now that feels more daunting than even pathophysiology!

Not a school nurse any more

2011-06-28T14:28:00.000-07:00

I am no longer a school nurse. Yesterday I finished my filing, cleaned out my desk, packed up all my personal stuff, and wrote a note for the new nurse who will be replacing me. Then I left.

I thought I would cry. I thought I would feel some sense of profundity that I was closing a chapter in my life and moving on to the next.

When I got home, I updated my facebook status to "No longer a school nurse. Bittersweet."

But the thing is, it doesn't feel bittersweet. Not a bit of bitter OR sweet. It just is. I don't really feel anything, except a bit overwhelmed about what to do with the next 2 months of summer with MonkeyDoodle. But I always feel that way at the beginning of summer.

I don't seem to care at all that I just left the best job I've ever had. I really thought I'd at least get a lump in my throat.

Is it time for a "No Children Section?"

2011-06-24T03:59:00.000-07:00

Free Wi-Fi at the airport in Chicago. Not completely sure which airport I'm in; I think O'Hare. On my way to Lovely City in the South to buy a condo!! I'll only be in town for today (Friday) and Saturday morning. So excited and nervous about things finally moving ahead :)

I flew from HomeTown on a red eye. I'm not great at sleeping on planes but can usually get a little sleep. I used a bit of pharmacological assistance this time and it was quite successful! Of the 4-hour flight, I probably slept about 3 hours. This despite the toddler in the row in front of me who SCREAMED for much of the flight. I think she finally fell asleep about the time the pilot announced that we were beginning our descent into Chicago.

I felt bad for everyone in our area of the plane, child and her parents included. She was so upset and tired and couldn't sleep in the strange environment. Her parents we also tired and exasperated and knew that she was making the rest of the passengers miserable. The rest of the passengers just wanted the toddler to shut up and go to sleep already!

It occurs to me that there should be children's sections on planes. Like the old smoking sections. All children under 5 and their traveling companions would sit in that section. Families with older children could choose to sit in that section, as could travelers without children. People traveling in that section would expect to have their flight disturbed by children being children. Parents wouldn't have to be as concerned about how their child's crying is affecting the passengers around them because everyone in the direct vicinity would get it.

Passengers who want to fly in peace and quiet will have a higher chance of getting a few minutes of relaxation on the flight. Granted, like smoke from the old smoking sections, some crying and temper tantrums would reach the passengers in the no-children section. But for the most part, the great disturbances would take place where the children were all bustled together so their parents can commiserate.

Some might think that this is about relegating the children and their parents to a less-desirable situation. I don't think so. When flying with MonkeyDoodle as an infant and young child, I felt terrible that I was the ONE with the disruptive child. We were the people that other passengers see in the airport and think "I hope that active child is sitting nowhere near me!" Of course, we had to sit next to someone. Occassionally we'd end up with someone who was engaging and sympathetic and helpful. More often, the people around us would grumble about their bad luck and try to completely ignore us for the duration of the flight. As if I was pinching her to make her cry the whole flight!

When MonkeyDoodle was little I would have given anything to be among those who could truly empathize with my situation. To sit next to other parents whose children were just as likely to go off the handle about the wrong kind of juice or too many ice cubes in the water; who were thinking "there but by the grace of God . . ."

I don't think there will ever be a "no children section" on airlines because it would be too much of a PR risk to take. But I really think EVERYONE would benefit from this option. It at least makes more sense than taking off your shoes and only bringing 3 ounces of shampoo through security. But when was the last time new rules were imposed because they made sense?

Endings and Beginnings

2011-06-21T20:54:00.000-07:00

Today was MonkeyDoodle's last day of elementary school. Tomorrow will be my last day being a school nurse. We're both on to new adventures in the fall.

There's probably something profound to say. But I got nothin'. Just really tired and kinda sad.

That is all.

Perhaps if I fret about the little stuff . . .s

2011-06-08T20:10:00.000-07:00

I'm not quite ready to make the jump to wordpress yet but I'm still annoyed with the whole commenting situation. Apparently it's not happening to everyone and for me it doesn't happen on every blog.

So, if you're one of the blogs that I often read and comment on, I'm probably still wanting to comment, I just can't figure out how.

Honestly, I think I'm perseverating on the blog thing because it really doesn't matter much in perspective with other things going on in my life. Perhaps if I think about my blog I'll forget that I only have 6 days left to be a school nurse and there aren't enough hours to get everything done. Or that I'm going to grad school and will be taking classes that look like they'll be crazy-hard? And have I mentioned that I'm trying to buy a condo near Lovely University?

No stress in my life. I think I'll go back to fretting about my blog now.

Mama didn't say anything about days like THIS!

2011-06-03T21:01:00.000-07:00

Most days, being a school nurse is the best job in the world. Today was not most days.

I talked to someone at Child Protective Services at least 5 times. And the Crisis Line at least 7 times. I talked to (I mean I was yelled at by) a parent 3 times. And the child's adult sibling twice. I worked 6.5 hours instead of my usual 4 on Friday. I forgot to eat lunch. And I'm still not sure the kid will be ok.

DaddyDoodle ordered me a gin and tonic at dinner. Then another one.

He knows he doesn't get what it's like on days like this. But he also knows that I need him to take care of me. And he does. And because of his love and support (and sometimes a stiff drink) I'm not afraid to go back to work next week.

But it's a law of physics!

2011-06-02T20:44:00.000-07:00

Back in high school chemistry we learned about the 2nd Law of Thermodynamics. Something to the effect of "without the addition of energy, all things will move from a state of order to disorder." (For you super-science-types out there, I apologize for how I'm sure I completely just mangled an important law governing the physical universe.)

When I got home from school and my mom asked me to clean my room I replied that, according to the 2nd Law of Thermodynamics, attempting to keep my room in any state of order was entirely pointless. It was the natural law of the universe that my room should be a mess. As a high school sophomore, I thought I was incredibly clever. With the perspective of age and parenting, I realize I was an exasperating smart ass.

However, my view on maintaining a clean room/kitchen/house has remained the same: it's entirely pointless. Don't get me wrong. I try sometimes. But no matter how clean I get the house, as soon as I turn around it's a mess again. I might get all the laundry washed and folded and put away, but then someone goes and wears some clothes and it's time to start all over. Or I'll get every inch of the kitchen clean, counters scrubbed and everything. But then it's time for dinner and every surface is once again a cluttered mess.

I hate living in a cluttered mess. And I don't hate cleaning. So why do I live in the cluttered mess? I sometimes fantasize about how clean my house would be if I lived alone and only had myself to clean up after. My house would probably look like one of those tastefully decorated homes where rich people live with their servants in the movies. Not sure which is the operative word here, but my fantasy falls short on at least three counts: "rich" "servants" and "in the movies."

To be honest with myself, it's not the people I live with who are to blame. It's that I'm not willing to acknowledge the "addition of energy" portion of the 2nd Law. I feel like there's no energy left to add so the house continues to devolve from a state of relative order to further and further disorder. I don't give much thought to how energy-DRAINING it is to see and work around the disorder.

The clutter in my life interferes with the rest of my life. We rarely have people over because I don't want people to see the mess. I don't like to take pictures inside the house because there's clutter in the background of all of them. I can't find things when I need them. When I sit down to read or play a game or hang out with the dogs, I'm distracted by the mess. It interferes with my family's enjoyment of our time together.

I'm not looking for suggestions here. Just pointing out a frustrating character flaw. We all have them. Dis-organization in my home is the one that bothers me the most. (At least for today.) The irony here is that I'm insanely efficient and organized in other areas of my life. After all, I'm a nurse. We're notorious for being perfectionists. It's how we keep from killing our patients :) (Perhaps there's some kind of profound lesson about that which you hate the most or do the best. But I'm not feeling very philosophical right now. You'll have to create your own profound moment.)

Last week at church* the pastor talked about "When I . . . , then I'll . . ." I think he meant it to be about what gets in the way of doing the thing you're supposed to do in your spiritual life/service to God. Perhaps. But I keep thinking of what gets in the way of doing the day-to-day stuff. I think my messy house gets in the way. But what is it that's keeping me from tackling the messy house? In addition to a lack of servants, that is.

*Yes. We've been going to church for a couple weeks. That's a post for another day. Not quite sure what I think of it yet. I'll get back to you. For background, see here and here and here.

I Hate Blogger!

2011-05-31T21:01:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking of moving to another blog host. And the past few weeks Blogger hasn't been giving me any reasons to stay. I'm considering a move to Wordpress. Any opinions?

(If commenting doesn't work, as it seems to not lately, email me at 1mamadoodle at gmail dot com.)

For Cowgrrl

2011-05-31T20:57:00.000-07:00

For some reason known only to the stupidity that is Blogger, I am unable to add a comment to my own blog. Here's the response to your question for your book club:

Cowgrrl- You ought to read Moon Over Manifest. It's a quick, lovely read and would have lots for a book club to discuss. Left Neglected would also be a good bookclub read.

As far as the one about the stillbirth, I'm really interested in what others who don't work in healthcare might think of it. Not sure if I've mentioned it here on the blog, but I'm a former women's health nurse. I used to call my bad days "dead baby days." When I could no longer recover from the DBDs, I knew it was time for me to leave women's health. That's a bit of perspective on where I was coming from when I read it. A part of me wonders if this book was healing enough to bring me back to women's health, the reason I went into nursing in the first place.

25/50 books in 2011!

2011-05-29T20:32:00.000-07:00

Early in January, Friend J announced that she was doing a personal reading challenge if anyone was interested in joining her. She challenged herself to read 50 books this year, using Goodreads to track her progress. She set up a group for her friends and invited us to join.

"What the heck?" I thought. I got a nook for Christmas and I was trying to read more. I decided to join the challenge. I signed up with the official Goodreads 2011 Reading Challenge and joined Friend J's group and started tracking my books.

Last night I finished reading my 25th book, bringing me half way to my goal. Here's what I've read so far, in the order they were read:

The Privileges by Jonathan Dee
Labor Day by Joyce Maynard
The Leisure Seeker by Michael Zadoorian
Seven Year Switch by Claire Cook
The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot
I'd Know You Anywhere by Laura Lippman
Gunn's Golden Rules by Tim Gunn
Left Neglected by Lisa Genova
Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet by Jamie Ford
100 Cupboards by N.D. Wilson
The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold
Case Histories by Kate Atkinson
Sacred Hearts by Sarah Dunant
An Echo in the Bone by Diana Gabaldon
These Things Hidden by Heather Gudenkauf
Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen
A Short History of Women by Kate Walbert
Moon Over Manifest by Clare Vanderpool
Knight's Castle by Edward Eager
When You Reach Me by Rebecca Stead
Half Magic by Edward Eager
An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination by Elizabeth McCracken
Candy Floss by Jacqueline Wilson
Little Bee by Chris Cleave
The Princess Diaries by Meg Cabot

A few of the books were read with MonkeyDoodle or at her request, in order to preview the content (she's not very able to deal with great sadness or even mild violence in her books right now so I'm happy to preview them, usually).

The only 2 books that I've given a full 5 stars to are Moon Over Manifest and An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination.

Last year's Newberry Award Winner, Moon Over Manifest is a lovely tale of a girl trying to figure things out in a dusty town during the Depression. Through her explorations we learn of the town's history during World War I and the history's relation to the town as we see it during the Depression. Like all good Depression-era stories, there's a fortune teller, a tree house, and moonshine. Sadly, many will miss this wonderful book because it was marketed toward and won an award for children's literature. READ THIS BOOK!!!

An Exact Replica is a memoir of a woman's pregnancy that ends in stillbirth and the year following the stillbirth. It contains possibly the best line I've come across in contemporary literature: "When did we become characters in a Raymond Carver story?" Despite the unexpected subject matter, this book is one of the most beautiful pieces of writing I've ever read.

If you're interested in knowing more about what I'm reading/have read, drop me an email and I'll give you my goodreads contact info (if I know you in real life or through the blogosphere).

I've already started on Book #26: The Uncoupling by Meg Wolitzer. Perhaps I'll figure out how to add another section to my blog and start posting my book reviews?

Smackdown of the Smug

2011-05-26T22:59:00.001-07:00

Disclaimer: I feel like a whiny victim after writing this post. I don't want to be that person. The person who goes around saying "poor me; life is so bad and it really sucks to be me" all the time. But it feels like whatever we do, MonkeyDoodle keeps getting the short end of the stick. Apparently, confidence and getting back on your feet after a defeat are like money: you gotta have some to get some. Anyway, please forgive the whine. I'd like to officially say "Enough Already!!"

"We don't tolerate that kind of behavior here," the new principal said smugly when we described a few examples of the bullying MonkeyDoodle had endured at her old school. She meant it to be reassuring but I was offended at her glib statement. It seemed to imply that what happened to MonkeyDoodle could have been prevented if we had all paid better attention.

I missed her next few statements as I thought to myself "I bet it's happening here. She just doesn't know. Mean kids terrorizing others right in front of the teachers but making it look like a joke. But that won't be a problem this time because MonkeyDoodle has learned to ask for help and we have learned to help her."

Here we are again. This time there's no hitting and the Queen Bee has a different style. It's taken weeks for MonkeyDoodle to even realize that the way this girl criticizes her and makes fun of her is actually bullying. I think that if MonkeyDoodle wasn't so injured from her previous experience we wouldn't even be having a problem. The old MonkeyDoodle would have told the girl that she doesn't really care and she's ok being her own person. But the new MonkeyDoodle is weak and the strong predators prey on the weak.

MonkeyDoodle has been working with her counselor on standing up to the Queen Bee. At home we've talked about strategies and planned out ways she can avoid being around her. We want HER to be able to conquer, with our support from behind. We're giving it one more day before I go to the principal.

I wonder what the principal will think when I smugly tell her that apparently they DO tolerate that kind of behavior here. Like the other school, they just don't know it.

Squished Boobs

2011-05-23T18:39:00.000-07:00

I got my first mammogram today. I hated it.

I know. I'm a nurse and I'm supposed to only say positive things about preventative healthcare. But the mammogram really sucked.

I wasn't planning to get a mammo in the first place. The new screening recommendations (routine mammograms starting at 50 instead of 40 in the absence of risk factors) were released a few months before my 40th birthday. When the recommendations were initially announced with much hoopla in the media, I didn't immediately jump on board; in fact, initially I protested them as yet another limitation on women's health care. Then I looked deeper.

The recommendations make sense. Particularly if I'm going to practice what I preach about universal health care and appropriate use of resources. The reasoning behind the recommendations is solid: many false positives equals unnecessary further testing. Most cancers caught by mammogram in pre-menopausal women are in women in high-risk categories who, under the new guidelines, should still be routinely screened beginning at 40 (or earlier, in some cases).

But the whole world seems to turn pink every October for breast cancer awareness. And the research shows that MOST (not all) cancers are in high-risk women; what if I'm the among the few without risk factors who gets cancer early? But if that's the argument, why don't we start routine screening at age 25? Sure, breast cancer is rare in women so young, but it does happen. What if I'm one of those women?

Somewhere along the line, someone chose "40" as the arbitrary age to start routine mammograms. 50 is significantly less arbitrary as breast cancer rates increase dramatically after menopause and most women go through menopause at around age 50.

I agree with the recommendations and am not in any of the high-risk categories. I stuck to my principles last year and decided to wait. So, why did I get my boobs squished today? My doctor is obviously not taken with the new recommendations and strongly suggested that I start routine mammograms now. I think I would have been able to resist if it weren't for my bout of hot tub breast cancer a few weeks ago.

My mammogram was physically uncomfortable and that was part of why I hated it. But the bigger discomfort for me was that I was really conflicted about being there in the first place.

True Confession #73

2011-05-22T02:12:00.000-07:00

I hate a 5th grader. There. I said it. It may make me an awful person, but I said it anyway.

She's the smug Queen Bee at MonkeyDoodle's new school. All the other girls swarm around her, seeking her approval, which she doles out very sparingly.

More often she tells the girls that something is wrong with their hair or clothes or the way they talk or . . . . I don't actually know if she says these things to all the girls. I do know she says them to MonkeyDoodle because I hear about it every evening when MonkeyDoodle is planning how she will do things differently the next day in order to gain the approval of the Queen Bee. In my experience with girls of her sort, I imagine MonkeyDoodle isn't the only one.

Being aware of her "Cool" status, the Queen Bee wields power on the playground and in the lunch room. She decides who is worthy to walk with her and wear the other earbud while they listen to the super cool music on her iPod. She dares students to do embarrassing things in order to sit with her in the lunchroom. (MonkeyDoodle had to tell a boy she liked him. She told me it was awful and sitting at the cool table wasn't worth it.)

Many of MonkeyDoodle's decisions about what to wear or what to read or which TV programs to watch are determined by what she thinks the Queen Bee will say about them. Yesterday afternoon she came home and told me that the Queen Bee had told her that ABBA is "old-people music." She loves to dance to ABBA and now is torn about whether or not she should still listen to ABBA. MonkeyDoodle doesn't get that, while the Queen Bee may not be hitting her or telling other people not to talk to her, what she's doing is bullying. MonkeyDoodle insists that the Queen Bee is just trying to help her when she insults her choices in music and clothing and tells her that she would really look much better if she wore make up (in 5th grade! Really?).

I wish there was a way I could tell MonkeyDoodle that the Queen Bees of the world aren't worth it. That their glory is fleeting. That, while it feels pretty terrible to not be among the "cool" kids now, someday she'll look back and realize that she's been better than that all along. That at her 20 year high school reunion she'll get satisfaction from the fact that the Queen Bee is twice divorced and 40 pounds overweight and dropped out of college because she couldn't take the pressure of actually having to do the work to succeed.

I can see right through the Queen Bee. She might think she's all that and a bag of chips, but I know she's just a self-important, snotty 5th grader. And I hate her.

I'm a crazy techno-phobe!

2011-05-20T21:56:00.000-07:00

For my birthday/Mother's day I got a new computer. It's smaller than a standard laptop but larger than a netbook. Perfect for traveling across the country as a grad student :)

It came loaded with all kinds of goodies; most will never be used, or possibly even discovered. I mainly need something to surf the internet, write papers, and balance the checkbook. Everything else is just gravy.

One extra I've discovered that I think I don't want: the webcam. Most laptops come with webcams now and have for a few years. I'm not sure why it's suddenly an issue for me. Perhaps it's the ubiquitous programs that automatically open the webcam application and offer to take my picture. I'd like to be in control of that myself, thank you very much!

I'm a bit freaked out about the cameras that we let into our house and then connect to the internet. Who's to say who's on the other end of the internet looking into our lives? You may scoff but it really happens!

Since getting rid of cable a few months ago, we watch most of our TV through our Xbox. It has a camera that sees the entire living room. Which is fine when we're aware of it and playing kinect. Not so fine when I see the green light of the Xbox staring at me when I'm walking through the living room in my underwear because I left my book by the couch.

DaddyDoodle laughs at me when I mention it. I probably AM being paranoid. But if Apple can tell where I am anytime I have my iPhone with me, who's to say someone from Microsoft isn't using our Xbox to check out how often I sit on the couch eating popcorn while watching bad TV?

DaddyDoodle won't let me disconnect the Xbox, so I'll just have to be a bit more careful about picking my nose when the green light is on. I can, however, do something about the webcam on my new laptop. I just taped a piece of paper over it. Now if the computer decides to spy on me, all it will see is the backside of a colorful piece of wrapping paper.

2011-05-16T19:36:00.000-07:00

Today was hard. Nothing specific. I'm just exhausted. Ready to call "Uncle!"

I'm tired of all this. I want MonkeyDoodle back. I want her to snap out of it and be the cheerful bouncy confident girl she was. I worry that she never will. Taking care of her day-in and day-out is exhausting. Some days it feels like the whole goal is just to stay out of the emergency room.

I'm angry that she was hurt so badly that the essence of her seems to be buried so deep inside that it may never again see the light of day. I know that not every kid who is bullied comes out broken. But mine did. I want her back. Whole.

The other evening as we were laying in bed before she fell asleep, she said, "Mama, I just don't know who I am, who I'm supposed to be." I held her close and tried not to cry as I told her that someday she'll remember who she is. I told her it's still there deep inside and I know this because occasionally I get to see glimpses of the real MonkeyDoodle.

I hope I didn't lie.

Disillusioned

2011-05-13T16:14:00.000-07:00

MonkeyDoodle didn’t get in. She’s taking it pretty well. I’m not. That was the last all-girls school in the area.

I’ve wanted her to go to an all-girls middle school since she was a baby. Really. I heard and read all about how girls schools are great for building self-esteem, teaching leadership, encouraging camaraderie, stopping the cycle of bullying. The list could go on and on. From the very beginning, I wanted my little girl to grow into a strong woman, with the help of an all-girls education.

Last year, we applied to and she was accepted to one of the schools that denied her this year. We had decided that we would wait and reapply this year because she had such a great teacher and we could save a year of tuition by letting her finish out 5th grade with her friends and make the transition when everyone was scattering to schools around the city for middle school.

Then came the bullying. My bouncy, outgoing, friendly, confident, trusting, innocent MonkeyDoodle was replaced by an anxious, sad, pre-adolescent girl who tried to jump out a 3rd-story window.

She has always been a bit behind the curve when it comes to picking up on social cues and acting appropriately in public. I’m a school nurse. I see different ranges of maturity and know that she would always have been considered on the socially immature side. However, I think she always fell within the range of what was normal for her age.

Not anymore. She has significantly regressed in her behavior, coping skills, and social skills. Her psychiatrist thinks that she has emotionally regressed due to the depression and anxiety that hold sway over most of her waking hours. She often demonstrates the coping skills of a toddler. Imagine an impulsive 3-year-old living in the body of an 11-year-old, with all the knowledge, strength, and hormones of the 11-year-old. That’s what we have.

The girl who used to dance 3 times a week, go to Girl Scout meetings, go for walks with her dog (and me) now only wants to sit in her room and read or write or play on the computer. Unfortunately, the very effects of her illness make it more difficult for her to recover. Because of her depression, she is socially awkward and unmotivated to join in the activities she used to love. Because she is socially awkward, she is unable to appropriately form new friendships, which reinforces the depression. Her lack of motivation prevents her from dancing, taking the dog for a walk, doing the things she loves, also reinforcing the depression. Vicious cycle.

So what does all this have to do with the girls schools? More than ever, we think she needs to be in the nurturing environment promised by these schools. We know she’s not ready for traditional middle school and hoped that, in the supportive, positive environment offered at these schools, she would find herself again. Regain her confidence. Relearn how to have friends. Become a normal middle-school girl.

The reason for denying admission given by two of the schools? (And probably by the third as well, if we had asked.) She’s too socially immature and they don’t think she would be a good fit. We tried to explain how her life has been changed by the depression and anxiety following the bullying. The response we received was that it was unfortunate but they weren’t looking to admit the student she was before all this happened. They could only go with what they had in front of them and what was in front of them was a girl who isn’t ready for middle school.

They can’t (won’t) consider her for admission because she’s broken and it isn’t their responsibility to fix her.

I get that private schools get to decide who they will and won’t admit based on whatever criteria they want. What I’m frustrated with right now is what feels like blatant hypocrisy about the mission of girls schools. If the point is to raise strong, confident women who are socially aware and support each other, why won’t they take a girl who has been beaten down and needs the support offered in the all-girls environment? Perhaps the schools put out strong, confident women because they only admit strong, confident girls to begin with?

We were very clear in our applications that who she was a year ago is very different from who she is now. Her applications listed her accomplishments that show the real MonkeyDoodle: over 1,000 boxes of Girl Scout cookies sold and averaging about one Girl Scout badge earned each month. (Have I mentioned that the girl who hit her and then called her a cry-baby was her Girl Scout leader's daughter? Wonder why that dropped off the list of extra-curriculars this year.) Dancing and performing in recitals in Ballet, Tap, and Modern (3 dance classes a week for an entire school year). Strong evaluations from her previous years’ teachers. Academic ability in the top 5% of our large school district’s 5th graders.

We also addressed how we are helping MonkeyDoodle regain her footing during this difficult year. Counseling, new activities, re-establishing healthy friendships. I even mentioned that I had decreased my work hours to support her. We were clear that we didn’t plan to toss our broken child to the school and ask them to fix her. We wanted her in an environment where she could have a better opportunity to heal.

After pleading MonkeyDoodle’s case with the admissions director, we asked her to recommend some other schools that might be more appropriate. She couldn’t list any. She kept telling us we could reapply next year and possibly MonkeyDoodle will be more mature and ready for their school. Is that supposed to happen in the big public middle school with nearly 1,000 students and class sizes that are twice the size of the class sizes of the schools we were looking at?

Fortunately, we had already researched some co-ed options and we’ll be visiting another school next week. After that, we’ll start looking at the Catholic and Christian schools that are small enough that she won’t be lost in the crowd. And at some point, if I have to, I will call Lovely University and tell them that it was a nice idea but they really should offer my scholarship to someone else. (No questions asked, I WILL give up my scholarship and homeschool before I let MonkeyDoodle crash and burn in the huge middle school. Where her bully will be.)

So right now I’m completely disillusioned. The girls schools talk a good game, but when faced with a student who’s already damaged from the sort of activity they seek to prevent, they look the other way and wish her luck. It feels a bit like we’re on a sinking ship; they have oars and sails and buckets for bailing. But instead they offer us towels so when we figure out how to not drown we can dry ourselves off. Gee, thanks.

Pins and needles

2011-05-10T17:40:00.001-07:00

MonkeyDoodle didn't get in to the first schools we applied to for her for next year. We found this out about 6 weeks ago. The day after I found out I got the scholarship to Lovely University. What now? She was supposed to get in and I wasn't. I certainly wasn't going to get a huge scholarship.

The plan, as stated from early last fall, when all hell broke lose and MonkeyDoodle's life (along with the lives of those who love her) began to unravel. In the process of moving her to a new school, we sat in the conference room at the school district headquarters and boldly stated that middle school shouldn't be a consideration for the school district in their decision about where to place her. She would go to one of the girls schools in town. Or, if she didn't get in, I'd quit my job and homeschool. That was the plan. Even if I got in to my school, I could put it off another year or two. Besides, it's so much money that we probably couldn't afford it anyway.

Except she didn't get in to either of the schools. And I got in to my school. With a really big scholarship. Really big. One chance and it goes away. No putting it off for a year or two.

Now what? I may not always be sure what I believe but one tenet that I operate on is that everything happens for a reason and in the end it will all work out, even if we have no idea how. I am moving forward operating on that principle, with the mind that I would not have gotten in to my program and I definitely would not have gotten the scholarship if I wasn't "supposed" to go. It will all work out. It has to.

There's a big piece that has yet to fall into place. MonkeyDoodle still doesn't have a school for next year. We found a school we love even more than the others and I hope, in the next couple days, to be able to announce that she'll be attending there next year. We thought we would hear last week but the person who told us that apparently was a week off on her calendar and we have been assured that we'll hear by the end of this week.

Earlier this evening, I missed a phone call from the director of admissions. It was very cryptic, asking me to call back tomorrow because she wanted to discuss some things with me.

As you can imagine, I'm on pins and needles.

What if God was one of us?

2011-05-09T23:01:00.000-07:00

A couple weeks ago, the Doodle family jumped on the Glee bandwagon. For me, the jury is still out on the show as a whole. It's fun and charming but my life would go on just as well if I had never seen it and I wouldn't be setting the DVR for it, even if we still had cable.

The episode we just watched, "Grilled Cheesus," really struck a chord, however. If you're a follower, you know which episode I'm referring to. If not, here's a brief synopsis (non-spoiler version in case you also decide to jump on the bandwagon):

One kid makes a grilled cheese sandwich and sees a likeness of Jesus in the burn marks. He immediately dubs it the "Grilled Cheesus" and prays to it. Another kid's parent falls severely ill and is comatose in the hospital. Some of the kids express a strong belief in God while others express doubt or a complete denial of the existence of a god. Of course, we get some teacher opinions in the mix, as well.

This episode of this silly show really got my attention. If I didn't hate the phrase so much, I might even say "it spoke to me." The overall tone of the episode left plenty of room for questions and provided no answers. Which is pretty much where I am in my personal life. Plenty of room for questions and not many answers. And I'm ok with that for now.

If you don't watch Glee, I think this episode is worth watching for the thought-provoking nature. It can stand alone and you wouldn't have to watch any of the rest of the series to get this episode.

If you're a Glee watcher, do you remember this episode? Any deep (or not) thoughts to share?

(BTW, One of Us by Joan Osborne is one of my favoritest songs of all time. I love to think of God talking to the Pope on the phone. I imagine one of those clunky old black rotary phones. We only see his back, of course. Like Charlie, in Charlie's Angels.)

Just around the corner

2011-04-27T13:20:00.000-07:00

I'm almost done being a school nurse. 16 days at one school and 7 half days at the other school. If I weren't leaving for good, right about now I'd be starting to get spring fever. Counting the days because I can't wait until summer vacation.

I don't have spring fever. I'm dreading the passing of these final days. And I know they'll fly by too quickly. I have so much to do to close up my offices and get them ready for the nurse who will take my place in the fall. I want to leave it as easy as possible for someone to step in and take care of the kids I have come to see as "my kids."

I'm excited about my next adventure, but know there will be tears as I drive away on my last day.

Puppies!!

2011-04-27T13:13:00.000-07:00

DoggyDoodle and PuppyDoodle's breeder is blogging about her current litter of puppies. I can just about guarantee it'll make you smile!

The downside? MonkeyDoodle thinks she needs another puppy.

Sometimes a rash is just a rash

2011-04-20T14:55:00.000-07:00

Disclaimer: This post seems to take a flippant view of breast cancer. Please believe me when I say that I don't think there's anything funny about breast cancer (or any cancer). I can't imagine the pain, fear, uncertainty, and never-ending vigilance associated with actual cancer.

Yesterday morning, I woke up with a sore red lump on my breast, just on the upper edge of the areola. It reminded me of when I had mastitis when I was breastfeeding. However, I haven't lactated in almost 10 years so I was pretty sure this was not related to mammary glands. Throughout the day, as we were packing to come home from a mini-vacation at the beach, I would be reminded of it whenever I bumped my chest.

Painful red lump on breast when not breastfeeding? Must be cancer. Not the standard find-a-lump-get-a-mammogram-and-have-a-lumpectomy-and-get-on-with-your-life cancer. No! This red lump must mean that I have that really rare cancer that isn't discovered until it's too late and you probably only have a few months left to live.

I know about this kind of breast cancer because a chick-lit novel told the story of a 40ish woman (like me) who thought she had mastitis (like me) and eventually discovered that she had this super-rare cancer and died a noble death, leaving behind a devoted husband and a troubled daughter (like me). When I saw the red lump, I was convinced I was living this novel.

Then I Googled. OMG!! I totally have this cancer. I thought of the family picture we had taken earlier in the day while walking on the beach. I thought "that will be the 'before cancer ripped our family apart' photo." I started researching breast centers in my city and was trying to decide who I would call when offices opened in the morning. And when I officially get the diagnosis, I'll need to know how to go about finding a good oncologist, right? Do I know anyone who can pull strings to get me in with the ONE in the city who is an expert in this incredibly rare cancer and will save my life?

Resigned to my fate, I started to bed. DaddyDoodle, still unaware that I was going to die within the next few months, lifted his shirt and said "I have one, too." Sure enough, DaddyDoodle had a tender red spot radiating from his areola. What are the odds that we would both develop this rare cancer at the same time? We'll be written about in medical journals! DaddyDoodle said "I bet it's from the hot tub. You should check MonkeyDoodle and see if she's okay." Ever the practical one, DaddyDoodle!

Yep. MonkeyDoodle had a red spot, too. Fortunately, no pain. As luck would have it, she also had a well-child appointment scheduled for today. I mentioned the spot to her doctor, who checked it out, and told her that DaddyDoodle and I also have them and could they possibly be related to the hot tub we were in over the weekend? "Yep. Lots of Hot Tub Folliculitis at the nipple line. Something to do with that being the level of the water. No need for medication at this point. If the spots don't go away in a week, call and we'll talk about oral antibiotics."

And now you know about my brief "experience" with cancer. And why I'll never go in a hot tub ever again.

Old Friends

2011-04-13T14:05:00.000-07:00

The last time I saw Friend D, she was newly pregnant with her son. Today is his 12th birthday. But after nearly 13 years, we began talking like we saw each other yesterday. We caught up on each other's families and talked about her research and my plans for grad school.

The 3 hours flew by so fast! Hopefully it won't be another 12 years. But if it is, I imagine we'll still be able to pick up where we left off today.

Thanks Friend D! I hadn't realized how much I miss you :)

2011-04-11T14:54:00.001-07:00

Working on the taxes today. Before I could get seriously started, I needed to sort the pile of important papers in the Important Paper Pile. You know, the place where you put the stuff that you know you shouldn't throw out/shred/recycle but don't want to deal with at the moment. The IPP contained the usual suspects: insurance explanation of benefits letters, end-of-year tax statements, certified mail receipts from last year's estimated tax payments, my passport (I've been wondering where it was hiding!), PuppyDoodle's registration paperwork.

This year there was something that in other years I wouldn't expect to find: all the paperwork related to MonkeyDoodle's hospital stays, school-district dealings, and medication plans. Looking through the paperwork, I was reminded of the moments that surrounded the pieces of paper. A clear vision of the dark room without a working overhead light, where I sat with MonkeyDoodle's care team as we discussed creating a crisis plan for her. The conference table at the school district main office where I told the story of MonkeyDoodle's pain, trying to justify a change in school placement. The admission paper I signed the first night MonkeyDoodle was admitted to the hospital. The credit card receipt for the hospital co-pay for the first hospital stay.

I also found things I have no memory of: brochures with phone numbers of county crisis lines, handouts from the seminars DaddyDoodle and I attended. Suggested activities and sample daily schedules. These seem like they should be significant but I have no memory of them. (Makes me think about how little information presented in time of crisis is retained. Thought for a different day that will hopefully inform my practice going forward.)

I created a file and put the papers in the file drawer. I probably don't need to keep most (any?) of them. But for some reason they feel necessary for me right now. The papers are put away but I'm left with an uneasy feeling, wondering if I'll need to sign another admission paper? The evidence of the ordeal (is there a better word?) all piled up in front of me was like a hit to the chest. It feels like it's been all-consuming for the past few months. The papers prove that it has been. Maybe that's why I need to keep them: proof that we have and will continue to wade through this one day at a time.

I feel your pain

2011-04-07T22:53:00.000-07:00

The boy had a yelling, screaming, hitting tantrum in the vice principal's office. His mom was called and still he wouldn't calm down. Someone called the crisis line and a crisis team that works with BigCity Children's Hospital came to the school. The yelling stopped.

Whispers started that the boy really isn't well. "They're trying to get him a bed in the psych unit." "Wow. Who knew a kid could go off like that?" "So he'll go off to the hospital and we're supposed to think that it will be safe for him to come back?" "Will they let him go back to his parents? They obviously can't control him." "A kid has to be really out there to end up in the psych unit!"

Somehow I held myself together as I heard these well-meant but cruel thoughts whispered by various staff members who passed through the office. The unthinkable that was happening in the vice principal's office has been my reality too often the past few months.

Now this kid is at BigCity Children's Hospital, where MonkeyDoodle spent a week just two months ago. While others at the school are wondering what an inpatient psych unit must be like, I am imaging this student sitting in groups with the kids MonkeyDoodle knew and wondering what staff is on duty and who is caring for him during his stay. I wonder if his parents are going to the family preparation classes. Are they attending groups with him? Taking him to the hospital cafeteria for dinner when he's allowed off the unit? Will they take him home for a "trial run" before he goes home for real?

Last year, before everything with MonkeyDoodle, another student at one of my schools was hospitalized at the Children's Hospital. I had no idea what that must be like. Now I know. I don't think I act any different regarding the situation on a professional level. But personally, I'm a wreck.

In situations that are less like my own experience, I can come alongside and offer resources or a shoulder to cry on. I can get kids to laugh when their bones are sideways. I've visited my students in the hospital and given my cell phone number to parents so they can update me on their child's condition after an important doctor's appointment. I've spent so much time troubleshooting a diabetic student's blood sugar idiosyncrasies with her endocrinologist's nurse that the nurse and I now meet for coffee and discuss real life outside of nursing.

But this is different. On some level, I feel like I should reach out to these parents and let them know I know what it's like. But it's so raw for me. I'm a school nurse. I don't also have to be the support group. Fortunately, the school counselor knows I can't be the superstar school nurse this time. So she's being the superstar school counselor. And friend. She remembers to check in on me and see how I'm doing in the midst of watching a drama so similar to my own.

On a more positive note, MonkeyDoodle seems to be better, leaving me cautiously optimistic. She is adjusting to new medication and her mood seems to be more level since reaching at what I hope will be her therapeutic dose. I think DaddyDoodle and I are getting better at parenting within our new reality and I think the new medication is helping her maintain function without outrageous mood swings. She hasn't tried to run away or become violent since starting the new medication two weeks ago. But I can't emphasize enough how much "CAUTIOUSLY" needs to accompany "optimistic." It seems like every time I think things are getting better, we end up in a crisis. I want to be done with crisis. I don't think it will ever be easy but I really want a break from the really hard!

Change is coming

2011-04-05T18:56:00.000-07:00

Giving it lots of thought since yesterday. Thanks, Red Stethoscope, for reminding me that my relative was right to have concerns about MonkeyDoodle. And for the encouragement sent my way!

Today I completed my last major project of the school year. 10 weeks left and then I'm done with the best job ever. Trying not to think about that. But I think about it all the time when I'm at work. As I get my office ready for the end of the year, I know I'll be doing it with an eye to what needs to be done to make the transition easy for my replacement. I see bittersweet moments ahead.

Apologies

2011-03-30T16:42:00.000-07:00

I wrote my note to the school secretary yesterday and MonkeyDoodle delivered it this morning. Before she had received the note, I received a voicemail message from her also apologizing. I really appreciate her desire to make peace as well.

When I told DaddyDoodle that I needed to write a note of apology, he said "Why? You were right. She should apologize to you." He didn't get that it's possible to be wrong while being right. This is something we'll have to discuss further. It explains a lot about how we relate to each other.

Sometimes when you're right, you're wrong

2011-03-29T16:32:00.000-07:00

Today I picked a fight with the attendance secretary at MonkeyDoodle's school. It was quite stupid. She was being irrational and I responded in kind. Rather than just shutting up and jumping through the hoops, I fought back. Now I have pissed off someone who can cause me great annoyance if she wishes.

I think I need to apologize. Which annoys me because I still know I'm right. I've worked in enough and dealt with enough school offices to know that she was being unreasonable to say it couldn't be done the way I wanted (which I think would actually be easier for her). But I still need to apologize. I stepped into her domain and demanded that she do something different and I probably wasn't very nice about it. Actually, I know I wasn't very nice about it.

Time to go find the note cards and eat some crow.

What now?

2011-03-24T21:12:00.000-07:00

I applied to grad school. I took the GRE. I waited and fretted. I got in. I got a scholarship. I sent in my tuition deposit. Now I wait 5 months until I start orientation.

I'm sure the time will fly and there will be plenty to fill my days. But I feel like I should be doing SOMETHING about it right now. Feels a bit anticlimactic.

But my awesome husband bought me a college sweatshirt. I think I'll wear it to work tomorrow on college-sweatshirt Friday. When anyone asks me why I'm wearing a shirt from Lovely University in the South, I'll mention that I'm going there in the fall (technically in the last week of August). No big.

Which came first?

2011-03-20T17:06:00.000-07:00

MonkeyDoodle wants chickens. Me too. I've wanted chickens for most of my adult life. When we lived in a house with a yard that would actually have been a good place for chickens, I had my hands full with a baby/toddler/preschooler. Not to mention that chickens weren't legal in the city we lived in at the time.

Yesterday DaddyDoodle took MonkeyDoodle to a pet store that sells chicks. MonkeyDoodle fell in love instantly. "They're only 3 dollars each and we need to get 3. So we can have our own little flock for less than 10 dollars!"

She didn't know that I don't need any convincing to want chickens. She also doesn't seem to understand that there are many, MANY logistics to look into before we rush out and buy our 3 chicks. Not the least of which is that we live in a townhouse with a miniscule back yard. 10 feet by 17 feet. Mostly covered with paving stones. I know chickens are legal in the city where I currently live, but I'm not sure of the regulations about how much space they need and how close they can be to the neighbors' houses.

So, in addition to other calls that need to be made tomorrow, I'll be calling people who know about such things and asking if we can legally keep chickens. Then I'll be signing up for the City Chickens 101 class offered by the local organic gardening organization.

What am I getting myself into? (Did I mention I don't eat eggs?)

Yippee!

2011-03-17T18:41:00.001-07:00

I'm going to grad school. In August. Finally getting started on that "When I grow up I want to be a nurse practitioner" thing.

I'll be flying to a lovely city in the Deep South for a week every month. (Yikes! I just realized that that is a LOT of time away from home! But plenty of time to indulge in fried dill pickles and barbeque and other delights of Southern life.) Studying my ass off. (Does studying really burn calories? I think not. I'll have to come up with something else to do about my ass. Particularly since I'll be enjoying Southern comfort food so often!) And learning all about how to be a primary care provider from some lovely nurse practitioners who aren't yet aware that they're so very excited to precept me in my oodles of clinical hours. What I won't be doing is getting much sleep. I guess that's what the long flight each way once a month is for?

Now I'm going to do a little happy dance.

Woe is me

2011-03-15T19:55:00.000-07:00

I want to post something but every time I sit down to write I get all ranty about something and I really don't want to be Ranty Blogger. (With a few notable exceptions, of course.)

What am I ranting about that I'm not sharing with you? A stupid law making its way through the state legislature about requiring a physician signature for a parent to opt out of immunizing their child. A really bad friendship situation MonkeyDoodle has gotten herself into. Academic tracking at the elementary school level.

And then there's the generally feeling sorry for myself. Overwhelmed at work. Will MonkeyDoodle ever be ok? Do I really have to pay that much in taxes? How will we ever afford private school, assuming MonkeyDoodle even gets in? While we're at it, can someone fix the social inequities I see everywhere I look?

I think it's time to break out the rubber boots and stomp in a few puddles.

Does this make me a raging feminist?

2011-03-02T22:38:00.000-08:00

***Warning!! Serious Ranty Language Ahead!!***

DaddyDoodle just got an earful about my fears for the future of the women in our country. We make jokes about extremists but I'm really afraid that someday soon we'll find ourselves living in a Taliban state controlled by extremists.

Some idiot is trying to make it illegal to miscarry in the State of Georgia. Or at least have a hand in causing a "preborn human" to die. So if you miscarry you must prove that you didn't do anything to harm the "preborn human."

I've thankfully never had to endure the pain, physical and emotional, of a miscarriage. But I've medically counseled many women who have. Many of these women are already feeling terrible guilt that if they'd done something different, somehow been better at being a pregnant woman, this wouldn't have happened. Now they have to prove to a court of law that they didn't do anything to cause the miscarriage? Never mind that it's impossible to pinpoint why most miscarriages happen. (By the way, the language of the bill assumes guilt until innocence is proven. Go ahead. Read it. Let's turn the constitution on its head to protect a fetus and persecute a woman.)

The House is trying to defund Planned Parenthood. Family planning and contraceptives have already been cut from Medicaid funding. Where exactly are the poor expected to get their contraceptives. Perhaps poor people should just not have sex anymore? Sex is ok for the adequately-insured middle class but poor people have to abstain or pay the price with a pregnancy and more children and continue their cycle of poverty. Let's laugh and point at the poor people who have so many children that they're a drag on society. Perhaps we can have forced sterilization to keep the poor people from reproducing? No better than animals if they can't control their sexual urges. If they can't control themselves they deserve what they get, right?

But make sure that the rich men still get their Viagra for a small copay.

What about the bill in South Dakota that would make it legal to kill an abortion provider if the father of the fetus opposed the abortion? Really.

Methotrexate is a drug most commonly known as a chemotherapy agent. It works by interfering with cell reproduction. When I worked in an OB/Gyn clinic, I occasionally gave Methotrexate injections to cause an embryonic "death." I did this with a physician's order for the purpose of "dissolving" an ectopic pregnancy. Usually when I gave the injection, it was a solemn occasion, with tears shed by all parties in the room, myself included. Even in unplanned pregnancies, the women and their partners were almost always devastated to discover that they would be unable to continue the pregnancy.

Under the proposed South Dakota law, would a grieving father be permitted to kill me as I protected the life of the mother? It sounds far-fetched but it could fall under the letter of the law.

As DaddyDoodle says, "These would never hold up in court; never become law." Maybe not. But some jackass thinks they're a good idea. And enough others supported these ideas that they got to the point of being written into potential laws. And these are elected officials who will likely get re-elected because of their anti-woman stands and their willingness to protect a "potential human" no matter what the cost. Woman as incubator.

That's why DaddyDoodle got an earful tonight. He doesn't support these laws. He just happened to be the one in the room when the rant came flying out of my mouth.

Tomorrow I'm going shopping for a burkah. Never know when I might need one.

Who ARE you people?

2011-03-01T20:32:00.000-08:00

I just had a look at my Google Stats. I used to do this on a regular basis because I wanted to see if anyone was reading my blog. Lately I just write when I feel like writing and don't so much think about my audience. I think I'm actually writing for myself now which is what I originally intended.

But the other day I got a comment from someone I don't think I know and it got me wondering about who reads my blog. So I had a little look.

In the last month (the time period Google Stats defaults to) this blog has had 111 recorded visits. 99 from the U.S. and 12 from Canada. Since I started my blog a little over a year ago, I've had 1,889 visits from 12 countries (mostly U.S. and Canada). (Every time I post something about the GRE I get a spam comment that seems to generate in Vietnam. Since I just included the word "GRE" I'm pretty sure I'll get another comment from Vietnam. Perhaps this time I'll actually let it go through so you all can see it. And maybe sign up for GRE study aids?)

So the point of this post is this: Who are you? And how did you find me? I know that I know some of you. But there's plenty others I don't know.

Take a minute to introduce yourself. I'd love to get to know you!

If you say you're going to call . . .

2011-02-17T20:00:00.000-08:00

CALL! Especially when the person waiting for the call has been pacing the floor all week in anticipation.

That is all.

Some things even Tylenol can't cure

2011-02-15T18:00:00.000-08:00

I really don't get people sometimes.

Like the dad who yelled at me for telling him his kindergarten daughter had a fever of 102.9 and needed to go home.

"What do you mean she has to go home? I just dropped her off."

"She's sick and has a fever and shouldn't be at school. She needs to be home where she can rest and get better."

"How do you know she's sick? How did she get to the office? Do you just randomly spot check kids for fevers when they get to school?"

"She came to the office with the class aide. She didn't look like she was feeling well so the aide brought her to the nurse's office. I took her temperature and it's 102.9. She's sick and needs to go home."

"Wait. I don't understand this. Why does she need to go home?"

"School district policy states that students with a fever or 100 or higher may not be in school. We want to keep other kids from getting sick and home is the best place for her to be while she recovers."

"So I have to come pick her up because of some random policy that I've never heard of?"

I AM NOT KIDDING! This went on for about 5 minutes before he finally begrudgingly agreed to come pick up his very sick daughter. When he arrived at the school, we went through this all over again. Though this time I had the school handbook in hand to show that I wasn't just pulling this rule out of thin air. When I told him that she'd also have to stay home again tomorrow he was incredulous. "What in the world are you telling me? She has a little fever today so she can't go to school tomorrow?"

ARRGGGH!

Schedule Changes

2011-02-07T18:04:00.001-08:00

I've been wanting to write. When I write, I process and figure things out.

What I've figured out lately, when I haven't had an extra moment to write, is that even though I significantly cut back on my work hours, I seem to have less extra time than ever before.

I think I haven't even written about cutting back on my hours. I now work 2 and a half days a week. Close to 2 full days a week at one school and half a day at my other school. With my major schedule change and a minor change for both DaddyDoodle and LittleSis, we have MonkeyDoodle completely covered before and after school. She seems to be doing well with her newly hyper-scheduled life. I almost said "she seems to be thriving" but that would be a ginormous overstatement. When we can keep to the schedule, we have few tantrums and the anxiety seems controllable.

Here I am (waiting while MonkeyDoodle sees her counselor) with a free hour and I can't figure out what to write. I think because there's been so many times when I've said "next time I have a chance to blog I'll write about _________." Now that I have a few moments all those ____________s have become insignificant or forgotten or too overwhelming to recreate a week or two later. Perhaps I need to carve out time to write. I really do feel better when I write.

I think I want to be hyper scheduled like MonkeyDoodle is. If I ever get around to writing regularly again, I'll write a post about what "hyper scheduled" means. In my case, it would mean that I need to prioritize what I need to do each day and write out when it will all get done. But definitely more than a prioritized to-do list. Actually making a schedule for each day of the week and planning when I will walk the dogs and have lunch and do laundry and make dinner and all the things that have to go into my schedule, coordinated with MonkeyDoodle's schedule and my work schedule.

Just typing that out feels soothing. I get why MonkeyDoodle responds so well to the schedule. The predictability of a schedule is reassuring. It removes the anxiety of when things will get accomplished and what to do next.

I think I'll work on the schedule thing. The next time I have time completely to myself will be a couple hours on Wednesday. I'm looking forward to sitting down with a cup of coffee and filling in MY schedule. One of the first things I'll schedule is writing time. And when the schedule dictates that I should write, I'll tell you all about my new hyper-scheduled life.

I can't take a joke

2011-01-26T19:44:00.000-08:00

Ok. I swore I was just going to let this go and not say anything and certainly not write about it. But that's just not working for me. I'm a bit nervous here, writing about this because the last time I was offended when someone made a "joke" about Obama that I found offensive, I was accused of being a closed-minded, uptight liberal who can't take a joke.

Around the time of the previous facebook "break up" I became much more selective about who I agreed to be fb friends with. I rarely make a friend request and I rarely accept a request without looking at the person's fb page/wall to get a sense of whether or not we actually have anything more in common than having gone to college together or having met at a party thrown by a mutual friend. I also look for posts that indicate whether or not we might offend each other by our fb posts. This does not mean that I don't friend people who think about things differently than I do; I just want to know that we will demonstrate mutual respect.

Today I received a friend request from someone who I had previously "purged" from my friends list. A few months ago, I went through my "friends" and removed anyone who isn't someone I'm interested in knowing in real life. At that time, I removed this guy from my list because he was someone I knew in high school but seemed to have nothing in common with anymore and I didn't really see much point keeping in touch.

Per my new policy of checking people out before accepting a friend request, I had a quick perusal of this guy's wall. I was beginning to think I would accept and just hide his status updates when I came across this "joke" on his wall: "Wow! Obama ornaments! I never thought I would see the day! (the acceptance of hanging blacks from trees again)."

Really? I don't remember this guy being a racist pig back in high school and he seemed nice enough at the reunion. This guy is now a prominent member of the community we grew up in. He goes hiking with his kids. On his wall, he posted an homage to George Washington's declaration of a national day of prayer. Yet he thinks it's ok to make lynching into a joke. That's bad enough, but he takes it a step further when he suggests that the man being lynched is the president.

I honestly don't get how anyone thinks this kind of "joke" is okay. And he posted it on facebook, right there for the whole world to see.

You can call me an uptight liberal who can't take a joke if you want. This is offensive. And if you think this "joke" is funny, I'm not interested in being your friend.

I need a nap

2011-01-26T18:20:00.000-08:00

So many posts to write/finish writing and so little energy.

Quick update: MonkeyDoodle is home and doing okay. I officially asked to take a partial leave from my job, dropping to .5 from .8. This means I'll be mostly giving up one of my schools and keeping the other with very little changes.

MonkeyDoodle came home from the hospital with a nasty cold and I think I'm getting it. If I call in sick tomorrow, I'll have worked less than 1.5 days this week. That feels about right for right now.