Did you know...

...that antibiotics and alcohol don't mix?

(luckily, I had one and didn't have the other)

The next generation

Max K. and Carson S., my 2 nephews were BOTH BORN YESTERDAY!!!

(Max was a week late, and Carson was 6 weeks early)
I am extra excited to go visit BOTH new babies next week.

Today...

Today I cleaned, which was much needed. I took 2 trash bags to Goodwill, and recycled 2 plastic tubs of paper. I decided to see a movie, and 'Crazy-Stupid-Love' won out over 'Capt. America'.

(In some instances, I am very much a general girl, and love will usually win out)

As I was waiting for the movie to begin, I spilled pop all down my (rarely-worn) white t-shirt, and while sopping up the mess with my hoodie, I had the thought that if I do get married,(and do have the whole ceremony and white dress) that on that day, I'll either only drink water/champagne (light-colored things) that day and forgo food, or just have to make myself a huge bib from a plastic tablecloth (and it's classy thoughts like that which remind me why I'm NOT married :) ...)


I also got to talk a friend out of letting me give a haircut--it just wouldn't be the best idea for the situation, especially because it would require a LOT of cutting, and I've only ever cut on my own hair.

A storm is rolling through, so I'm going to tuck in and watch some 'House'. Have a great evening!

Zoom out

Sometimes it feels like the focus is too tight
cramped in the lense, and I am stuck
Only me; only THIS thing; THIS moment;NOW
no room to even wrestle with it properly
Zoom Out
Room to breathe; to see surroundings - that it's not just me in the frame
and I'm not even the subject of the picture
Perspective
We should all be glad I'm not the one in charge of the camera;
Thank You for knowing the best way to compose a photo.

Lately

Since my last post, I've gotten older.
(YIPPEE)
The last few months, I've felt more of a calm; a sureness within my own skin, but it's not from me. Good things; unexpected things are happening every day, and I'm trying to be grateful and thankful for each moment, as it comes. I do not know what the next minute holds, but I wait in poised expectation for the gift contained.

today I thought about perspective, and how each person has their own account/bent to events, and yet, in each, there is a measure of truth to be found. Some shine out, and some are ugly and dull, blending in, and lie deep, surrounded in opinion, waiting to be discovered...

Date With Dietrich Bonhoeffer...

...because I couldn't decide to go with a Christopher Guest or Wes Anderson movie marathon.

I also think I've got an idea for the next door decoration for the church's library door, provided I don't - A) forget, or
B) change my mind between now and then.

I did a '5 of 6' day stretch, and in wasn't too bad---I had the same patient all 5 days. The last night, I thought about how if someone asked me what I'd done all those nights at work, what I might say:

aside from 'the usual',
-I sweated in 'the tropics' of the 80-degree room (the heat cranked to keep the pt's temp up)
-The last 2 nights I occasionally danced around in the room and sang to the 80s music station the day nurse had put on the tv in the room
-I carried numerous heavy bags of fluid
-I hugged bags of urine while silently praying that they wouldn't rip as I drained them


I was a sore girl yesterday, and instead of taking a nap and 'flipping', I slept off and on until 1 AM, not getting out of bed from 8:30 am, and not eating since 1 AM the previous morning. Soo, I've actually been awake today since 1 am, when 'hungry' finally beat out 'tired'. I've been crazy-productive since then (thanks to coffee), filing papers, shredding papers, doing laundry, vaccuming all the spiders/webs in my general vacinity, etc. My oldest brother and his wife will be coming to visit in a few weeks (like they'd originally planned), so I figure if I start cleaning now, it should be good by then, right?

(okay, going to go---I've let my date alone long enough!)   :)

Prayer

I often have a hard time interacting with people. I do best with smaller amounts of people, and as the grouping number increases, I get progressively quieter and more inward.

And believe it or not, I'm actually better than I used to be.

I sometimes wonder if I could have some mild Asperger's, or if there's just a deep nugget of doubt buried deep, sending subtle thoughts of wondering about people. Pleasantries are nice at times, but I want to know if people are REAL.

Prayer is always a help. It helps with focus and preparation. It is a conversation with God where I can show my gratitude, and reveal my weaknesses. I don't know why exactly, but I seem to experience God more here--I don't know if that's a truth, or if being alone here, I'm just more aware and open to His workings around me with less distractions. It's painful and uncomfortable at times, and yet I know that good will out, so I expectantly wait... and pray, and take a deep breath as I am willing to be stretched beyond myself...

Um, what?

So much has happened in such a small time.

As I thought about it, I realized that we were overdue--the family had only increased since I was in the 3rd grade--around 20 YEARS of no deaths...

Before moving, I had to come to terms with the idea that I wouldn't be around when my grandparents died...I'm closing in on 30, and have all 4 that have been here since before I was born.

Most people aren't that fortunate.

But this was unexpected - a complication that surprised us all. It's so surreal - I think the words "my aunt is dead", but I can't completely comprehend and wrap my brain around the fullness of the idea, and as one from the Show-Me State, I think once I return and am immersed in the unexpected sadness, then I will drink deep, and weep. As I cry, I cry for earthly things - for the 40th anniversary Alaskan cruise that she, my uncle, and parents were going on this year; for my mother, who lost her best friend and sister; for my cousins and their children, who lost their mother and grandmother, and for my grandparents, who lost their oldest child, and because it will be a horrible Mother's Day for all of them.

I KNOW my aunt had a personal relationship with Jesus Christ as her Lord and Savior, and I KNOW into my bones that before her body was let to continue its natural course, that her soul, the part of her that was HER, was not there, but with Christ.

Remember to tell people that you love them now, because we do not know what the next moment brings...

Musings from things I've read

C.S. Lewis:

“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket- safe, dark, motionless, airless--it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.”

“You don't have a soul. You are a Soul. You have a body.”

“The pain I feel now is the happiness I had before. That's the deal.”

WASHINGTON IRVING:

“There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief...and unspeakable love.”

Statements

-The last 19 hours have been ridiculous.
-I JUST got home.
-I'm ready for today to be yesterday, and tomorrow to be today.
-If things don't improve today, I suspect I will implode, black-hole style, and accordion envelop all mass within me...

(-I remind myself that aspects on earth are as close as I will have to get to Hell.)

Awake

It's another day of being awake before 4 am. To be fair, i DID sleep over 12 hours (5+ hours after church, awake for about an hour, then 8+ hours to now). I was so tired yesterday that I didn't even really eat, even after purchasing food and bringing it home. Now I'm interested in food, but while I know I have a salad in the fridge, I just saw a picture of a friend's Chinese food on Facebook, and I'd much rather have that. I seem to be in a Chinese food kick, where I have an overwhelming desire to eat Chinese food often, after going almost a year of rarely eating it.

One thing I don't like about the weekend I work is that it's also the weekend that a good friend's kids are around.  I enjoy them very much, when we do get the opportunity to spend time together. They are, in general, an incredibly busy family, but there is always an eating of a meal together after church. On the Sundays after I work the night before, however, I attend church, but usually get incredibly sleepy by the end of the service, and cannot attend the lunch, so I often do not get to see them. Today an idea came into my head that the parents should switch weekends, so that they'd be at the other parent's on the weekend when I work, and I wouldn't have to miss getting to spend time with them...

(ah, the thoughts a tired brain thinks!) :)

Reminded

This week I was reminded:

-That the only person's actions I can control are mine. Others do things, and I can only control how I respond.

-That when you pray about something, you then have to make the decision to act and follow through, or not.

Commitment

So I've been watching 'Kitchen Nightmares' on hulu.com. It's a show on eateries that are floundering, and Chef Gordon Ramsay comes in, is BRUTALLY honest with them, and tries to help them turn things around.

And that made me think about commitment. Most of the people stick with it, because their committed, INVESTED in the business; the people, etc.

What are you invested in?

Thinking about church. I create attendance reports, which are mainly composed of 'guest', 'regular attender', and 'member', and the main difference between these groups are (for many) the level of commitment/involvement.

I had a conversation recently with a friend, who was complaining about church things, but she wasn't offering to help create change, or even offering of herself within church activities.

If there aren't things there for you, maybe that means you need to help provide things for others (and thereby learn that THAT is what was for you, in the first place).

I don't know if it's just Americans, or people in general, but it seems like we want what's best for me - which isn't necessarily a BAD thing, but as with most things, too much of it can be.

(I think I might just be rambling now, and I've got a meeting, so I'm stopping now.)

Middle-Man

Friday morning I was attempting to 'flip' back to living days, when I got a text @ 6 am. Even for normal day-living people, you don't, generally, receive texts/calls/etc. at that time unless you KNOW the person is already awake.

(so I was a little irritated)

and then I read it, and I decided at that moment that I just needed to be DONE.

Two people, both of whom are friends, have slowly worked me into the middle, and if experience has taught us anything, it's that I DON'T LIKE BEING PUT IN THE MIDDLE! It's SO much better overall to just be the same (as much as possible) with everyone; that's the easiest, and I'm a lazy person that way.

I feel like I have to work SO HARD at this, and it's getting more and more frustrating - I just want to SHAKE 'em!

(as it is, I think I'm just going to have to bow out, as best I can)

Work

Apart from wearing new shoes and having INCREDIBLY sore feet last night, it turned out to be a good end to the work week. I received my 1st fresh surgical transplant patient (double lung), and he was incredibly stable (as fresh post-op patients go). This morning I spent about 90 minutes talking with a friend from work, starting from the hwy infront of the hospital, to 30 minutes sitting in the Burger King parking lot, waiting to be done so I could get food. She is a new nurse, and was feeling stress and concern over things that had happened that night, and she called me to 'talk her down' and to provide some perspective. I was honored that she felt comfortable enough with me to come to me, and that she saw me as a resource that way.

I need to go run an errand, but am seriously considering going back to sleep.

Mom's going to be arriving for a visit on Saturday. I need to do some cleaning between now and then. We will see how it all goes...

Dream

So, granted, I DID stay up later than expected last night and watched some episodes of 'Bones', but I slept IN, and then woke up enough to decide to go straight into a nap. I still am feeling yucky, but I guess I at least needed all that sleep to counteract my days of 4 hours this week. I am also fighting my over-developed sense of guilt, which is screaming at me that I need to get up and clean, so that my house will be 'presentable' when my mom comes for a visit, or to work on the many paperwork things needing done on my list. Stupid thing - sometimes 'no' is the right answer, and it's okay. If anyone would ever visit my house, then it would be someone who loves me enough to visit, and they'd deal with my 'mess'.

ANYWAY, so I had this dream. I was in the middle of nowhere, and the road turned into a driveway, so I'd pulled my car off to the side and gotten out. There was a huge estate house, with a large stone covered walkway that led from the road up to the house. I start making my way up the walkway, and notice that it's all covered in a very thin layer of insulation, or something of that nature (cotton candy?) - something made of pink, whispy strands. I become more deliberate about where I place my feet, as insulation can be scratchy and cotton candy can be sticky. About halfway up the walkway, I hear a noise, and look back at the road. A combine is coming up the road, and turns into the dirt driveway. I duck down behind a pillar, as I am trespassing and would rather NOT be seen, but then realize that whomever was in the combine probably saw my  empty car on the road.

I look up, and there's a small building infront of me, and I go in. It's a mudroom of sorts, with a set of laundry machines and a large broken aquarium along the far wall. As I am taking in the view, a person walks in - honestly, I couldn't tell you of what gender, but as this person is talking, 5 or 6 others slowly trickle into the small room. No one is angry or upset that I am there. The first person is telling me about the house and the lands, and then starts telling me about how the aquarium got broken, and how the many, many eels that lived in there occasionally come out into the room. I look around, and I see the dead eyes of 2 eels as they are somehow able to cruise through the air as they do in water, getting close to my sandalled feet. I try not to react as they skim over my body, finally attaching to my right hand - one to the outside, and one to the wrist. All the people in the room are giving me advice on how to detach the eels. I am able to remove the one from the outside of my hand - PAINFULLY, as these eels have pointy, razor sharp teeth. I finally get the other eel from my wrist, and it hit an artery. I try to hold pressure with my left hand, but can't get it well enough. I yell at one of the guys to come over and hold pressure. 'I want you to make my fingers go white' I tell him. He does worse than I did, so I wave him away, and  attempt to hold pressure again, but this time am successful to at least slow the bleeding...


And then I wake up.

Valentine's

Happy Valentine's Day! It was halfway decent weather here. I got to think about love, and had my current favorite thing for dinner tonight before I soon leave for work. I cried in the car, hearing a song on the radio (happy tears).

Love is knowing a person, and loving them anyway. I am encouraged by the people around me that are in loving marriages, and it gives me hope for the future.

Suicide

(Prologue - I wrote this a few weeks ago, and was unsure about posting it here, but feel like I should. It's a weighty topic, so please read with caution and care...)



There was a suicide on Sunday - a teenaged boy - 17. No one was aware/had any idea he was on that road.

It makes my heart ache, for so many reasons. My grandfather killed himself when my dad was 7, and I've

often times wondered how that act NOT happening would've changed my family. I wonder about the man -

the man from whom my father got his ears, whom my grandmother has referred to as 'the best man', even

though his action left her a jobless widow at 25 with 3 children 7 and younger; the man through whom she

became a Christian.

So suicide on one side of the family, and depression on the other. I can honestly say that if I weren't a

Christian, I would've probably killed myself by now. Being outside the mainstream can be so lonely, aching,

and overwhelming. There have even been times since my conversion where I have felt no desire to go on.

And it's in those moments when I've cried out to God and He 'uses pain as His megaphone' (to use a C.S.

Lewis phrase) with me, but only after coming to me in my sackcloth and ashes, and sitting with me in the

silence--until I am ready to listen.

A few months ago, someone I care about was put on suicide watch for a stretch of time. I did not know all

 of the particulars, but I cried. I cried with relief because the act hadn't happened, and I cried that he felt that

it could be an option, and I cried because I knew from experience how the hopelessness can be a weighty,

choking presence. I wish I didn't. I wish things were different. But they aren't. Life moves forward, and new

obstacles that are built-up versions of the same old ones are placed in the way. We dodge and maneuver as

best we can, hopefully with a learning curve.

May we always have the ability to have our hearts broken, so that we may encounter God there, and

re-learn the important things of life.

rk 1/13/11

Blech.

I'm not quite sure what to say today. So far, I'm still awake, which is a good thing, as I've been monumentally thrown off my night-shift sleep schedule that I had cultivated. I've decided to blame the holidays and my whirlwind visit home, as that make me have to change up the fairly regular work schedule that I'd created. The past week I have reverted to sleeping as I did when I first started working nights, with only sleeping or staying awake a few hours at a stretch, and the awake hours being groggy and worthless for getting anything of value performed. (example--I worked Monday night into Tuesday morning. Because of the snow I didn't get home until 9, but wasn't able to go to sleep until after 11 am, and that was with medicinal assistance. I wanted to only sleep until 4 at the latest so I could 'flip' and sleep the entire night, but I ended up sleeping until after 6 pm, then was awake for about 90 minutes, then slept until 11 pm, was awake until 2 am Wednesday morning, when I took something else to help me sleep, and I nodded in and out until 1 pm. I called my grandmother, slept from 3-7, got a call from my mom, slept from 9-11pm, was awake from 12-2am Thursday, slept from 2-5 am, then got up to begin my day...)This week is my weekend to work, so I'm hoping that I will be able to return to my schedule soon.

I need to find some way to keep myself occupied for about the next hour and a half. I can't allow myself too much time to overthink certain things, which I've found is a good thing to know about yourself. I think I've been pretty productive so far today. I've figured out many tasks that are either in-process or crossed of the list (always a good thing) and I've got some more 'to-do', as I volunteered and had takers :).

I think I might get off here and try to read some more on 'Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell'. I've been working on that book what seems like forever. I enjoy it very much, but it's not one that can be easily picked up,read, & put down along the course of a day, but requires time to extract the world and the story within it.

Unpacking my bag of cats...

So I've got this thing that I've said is like 'carrying a bag of cats', which is becoming increasingly stressful to me, and a well-meaning person this week added another element into the mix. Today I sat down with it all, to try to figure things out, and as I unpacked my bag of cats, there were some old, deep-seated hurts that came up, and along the way, other emotions came, which irritated and frustrated me even more, because those were the same old thing; same old tune. My head was rationally trying to downplay it all as my heart cried out, until reset was done.

God, what a mess. I am completely incompetent,inadequate, and insecure. You know the situation. God, I give to You my bag of cats, and ask that You bless this mess.

Champion

I JUST woke up from a dream, rather reluctantly, but once awake, want to put down what it was...



I remember sitting in a room on the floor, in bad holey clothes. I am in the shadows, back of the room, eyes downcast, as the others in the room talk about me, and my 'situation', no one wanting to say the word 'cancer'. I feel low and at the end...

And the room stills, and I feel that the attention of the room has shifted to me, so I raise my eyes. The person across from me in the room is the leader in the semi-circle of chairs, and with an upraised arm,  motions to my left, and a best friend is sitting in a chair, halfway between that semi-circle and myself.

My eyes smile, and within I feel hope in my weakness, as the corners of my mouth turn up.

I whisper, ' Yes. He will speak for me', knowing trust in the words that would be said would be in my best interest.

He stands. 'I will open with prayer.'

'And why do I pray?' He is speaking to the room, but looks at me.

'So that I may know, without a doubt, God's will for my life.'





Time passes, and this meeting is over. The other people have left, and I am alone with my friend and champion. He finds me in my spot on the floor and sits next to me. We two sit in silence until a hand reaches under my chin and raises my eyes. He speaks after a moment of just looking deep.

'Out of all the moments, these are my favorites'.

Sweats - a redemptive love story

So work is totally kicking my butt this week, already. First day, I feel like I've been beaten, and it wasn't even on my patients! The new nurse next to me had a hot mess, so I helped over there.

Now, I've always seen the benefit of a sweatshirt or hoodie - the warmth and softness of the fabric against the skin; preferably larger so it can be burrowed into. I have one from each college I've attended, and the mustardy hoodie from the ex is probably (sadly) one of the remaining highlights from that relationship... but sweatpants and I parted ways long ago. While of the same fabric, at the time they had that horrible elastic around the waist and each ankle, creating on my lower half an 'Ali Baba'/MC Hammer pant look that needed to fly away. I also viewed leaving the house in sweats (for any reason as a woman besides being a size 0 and going to work out) as an awful thing.

And then I met my Hanes black sweatpants. They were on sale, and just had light elastic on the waist, and actually had flared legs. I just returned from running an errand in those pants, and my CMSU hoodie. I was comfortable the whole time. Perhaps sweats in public don't mean that you aren't trying and that you've given up, but that you are no longer thinking about how others view you...

Christmas

I had worked Christmas Eve night, one of my most favorite times of the year, and yet again was unable to attend a Christmas Eve service. Even so, I was starting to look forward to going home to MO after work, and having Christmas with my dad's side of the family later Christmas Day. I was so happy and encouraged.

And then my flight got into Chicago on time, but I was stuck on the plane, on the runway because another plane was at our gate, getting de-iced, and I missed my flight. When the flight attendant told me this news, I had been awake for 20 hours and my mixture of emotions (the expectant excitement of family and Christmas, intermingled with the sadness of a former patient my age that had died the night before) turned to despair, and I began to WEEP in my seat on the plane---big puddle tears rolling down as I blubbered away, making my already present sinus congestion exponentiate until I couldn't breathe, and had to stop crying, or die.

I WANTED to be a jerk and a bitch to those around me. I wanted to yell and cuss everyone out because I had spent the extra money so I could get home early, and was now spending that precious time in a sea of strangers in an airport.

But everyone was helpful/considerate/accomodating/polite, and while my emotions raged to take control, my head worked overtime to assess the overall situation---I teeter-tottered for awhile on choosing how to react, and there was a REAL fight to NOT let myself roll around in the bitterness and despair, although at the time, that's all I wanted.

 and then I remembered that I had been reading in John Eldredge's 'Walking with God' about having joy in life, and how many of us just get by and accept that, and how joy can be snatched away by Satan.

So I sat down and said,'God, what am I supposed to be learning from this? What's going on? And why?'

(Just FYI, if you ask a question, you better be ready for an answer)

That afternoon, in O'Hare, I learned about my expectations of things, and to be open, and emotions, and there in one of the busiest airports, I had some quiet time.