tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-87019317268933644782024-03-14T00:19:54.239-07:00Seeds of Corianderthe journey from seed to bloomAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04680615822666921191noreply@blogger.comBlogger134125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8701931726893364478.post-59979840811338254492019-02-05T11:28:00.000-08:002019-02-05T11:28:12.063-08:00Starlight<br />
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Footlight MT Light",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I
want to talk about Starlight….<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Footlight MT Light",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><a href="http://www.brettculp.com/" target="_blank">BrettCulp,</a> of <a href="http://www.risinghero.org/" target="_blank">The Rising Heroes Project </a>(and film director, and all-around good
human), spoke at our Leadership Development Conference yesterday. In speaking
about leadership, he brought to the forefront the need to recognize that what
we do today may not be seen for many years. He used starlight as an example of
this.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Footlight MT Light",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The
North Star, as Brett stated, is 400 light years away. What we see today is the
light generated by that star 400 years ago. Although I knew that from past
science classes, it resonated with me in a different way now – as a leader. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Footlight MT Light",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I
watch my colleagues in healthcare advocate, and heal, and fight, and love their
work, and struggle as they watch their patients decline… and there is such a
need for that immediate gratification that we’re doing good work. We ARE doing
good work – yet we may not see those results for a long time, if at all. We
have to have faith that the work is sending out ripples as if it was dropped
into the middle of the ocean away from all humanity. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Footlight MT Light", serif; line-height: 107%;"><i style="font-size: 12pt;">“</i><b><span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;">Real
leadership is inviting people on a mission to do something extraordinary together.”
</span></b><i style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Footlight MT Light", serif; line-height: 107%;"><b>~Brett Culp</b></span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Footlight MT Light",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We’re
on a mission. All of us. We may not always know what that mission is, yet if we
stick to our ethics and passions, our path will light up in front of us. Bring
people with you on your journey who share your passion. Reach out for mentors
and guides and the quiet people in the corner with the spark in their eyes. You
know more than you think you do, and there are a lot of eager ears willing to
listen and learn. We’re all students, even if we’re not enrolled in classes.
Each day you will learn something new, or will be able to teach someone
something new. That’s pretty amazing. Your starlight will go on for eons after
you’re not here to see the end result. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Footlight MT Light",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We
need to have faith in ourselves just as much as we have faith that those stars
will keep on burning well into the future.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-x66W5wL-r4E/XFnjjEUiP5I/AAAAAAAANKs/cRmVZN19whoXCLHg0ech0eqdOTtIf4EfgCLcBGAs/s1600/StarlightSymbolism3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="998" data-original-width="1600" height="199" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-x66W5wL-r4E/XFnjjEUiP5I/AAAAAAAANKs/cRmVZN19whoXCLHg0ech0eqdOTtIf4EfgCLcBGAs/s320/StarlightSymbolism3.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">http://www.whats-your-sign.com</td></tr>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04680615822666921191noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8701931726893364478.post-19706031068793610232019-01-21T12:02:00.001-08:002019-01-21T12:03:23.218-08:00Return to Light<br />
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<span style="font-family: "californian fb" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I know most of the planet was watching the rare Wolf
Blood Moon lunar eclipse last night, however when there are such stunning
natural occurrences such as this was, it sometimes feels as if you’re very much
alone… (which isn’t always such a bad thing.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "californian fb" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I received many messages last night from our beautiful
Mother Moon and her goddesses, including inspired howling from dogs and coyotes
as the night blackened around what appeared to be an orange marble suspended in
ink. Surrounding planets and stars glowed brighter, and the street lamps almost
became an irritation in their glaringness, interrupting the depth and attention
to the sight above. It was understandable that those living in past years
feared the eclipse as an omen – the moon became an absolute three-dimensional
being that simply “was.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "californian fb" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I did not take photos, but preferred to sit quietly and
allow my thoughts and emotions to travel alongside the Earth’s shadow. I was
taught patience, as those few seconds before total eclipse seemed to take so
many more minutes than thought possible, much like waiting as a child to be
allowed into the living room on Christmas morning. Before the shadow passed
completely over, Mother Moon shouted one more time, seeming to pulsate with
glorious light, as if reminding us that she would return even more lovely than
before.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "californian fb" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">As Artemis reclined with her glass of wine, her moon
stayed as a strong presence. It simply “was” without pretention. Billions of
people may have been staring at her, yet she rested in her darkness without
qualms, patient, waiting to be alight again with the brilliance from her
Brother Sun. When the Earth continued on its path and the shadow shifted, a
small sliver of beaming intensity shot from the murky sphere, announcing her
return and showing us that we are still strong and bright no matter the size of
the shadow. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VCIIPRwIHhM/XEYk35-Se7I/AAAAAAAANFM/Qk3e0qsR5ewxg_og_CAAN-reta5LZnFOACLcBGAs/s1600/moon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="817" data-original-width="664" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VCIIPRwIHhM/XEYk35-Se7I/AAAAAAAANFM/Qk3e0qsR5ewxg_og_CAAN-reta5LZnFOACLcBGAs/s320/moon.jpg" width="260" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">@gbentley271955 - Twitter</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "californian fb" , serif; font-size: 16px; text-align: left;">Although there were several beautiful photos available online, this photo from Gina Bentley was most profound for me, as it visually demonstrates that return to light. Please see her other photos on her Twitter page @gbentley271955.</span></div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04680615822666921191noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8701931726893364478.post-31837929450686805352018-11-09T14:54:00.000-08:002018-11-09T14:54:59.375-08:00Giving back when having previously taken away<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><u><span style="color: black;">Before I start, I'd like to acknowledge the sites noted below each photo, as Angola does not permit photography on the prison site. Thank you for your assistance in educating the public.</span></u></i></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: black;">It's not every day a person voluntarily steps
foot inside a maximum security prison. It isn't every day that a nurse who
works "on the outside" has the opportunity to simply chat whilst
holding the hand of an elderly, toothless inmate whose only wish is to die
outside of thick concrete walls with his younger brother at his side. It
definitely isn't every day that the same nurse cries over a group of men who
have undoubtedly committed crimes that destroyed the lives of many, many
people. It’s a heartbreaking conundrum and one filled with both
self-questioning and the desire to know more.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-exnYWuflh7c/W-YLHdxv0DI/AAAAAAAAMmI/TkZYEc62wDwWan1A48_c0kxi4G7uBCCIQCLcBGAs/s1600/frontgate.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-exnYWuflh7c/W-YLHdxv0DI/AAAAAAAAMmI/TkZYEc62wDwWan1A48_c0kxi4G7uBCCIQCLcBGAs/s400/frontgate.png" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: black;"> <span style="line-height: 107%; margin: 0px;">Northcountrypublicradio.org</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-s-HSky8SBec/W-YLHzdHhJI/AAAAAAAAMm4/WEZjiRkEOBMfyYmJXDSfhYlMTIh0f37kQCEwYBhgL/s1600/overhead.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1276" data-original-width="1600" height="318" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-s-HSky8SBec/W-YLHzdHhJI/AAAAAAAAMm4/WEZjiRkEOBMfyYmJXDSfhYlMTIh0f37kQCEwYBhgL/s400/overhead.png" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: black;">Angolamuseum.org</span></span><span style="line-height: 107%; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: black;"><br /></span></span></div>
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Over five-thousand men currently call Angola home - specifically, Louisiana
State Penitentiary. Over one thousand staff work on the 18,000 acre campus, and
several hundred more staff reside in small houses scattered throughout the rich
landscape - there is a two year waiting list for prison residences. The prison
finds itself surrounded on three sides by the grand Mississippi River, further
swollen by thunderous rains which sweep through the area almost daily. On the
fourth side is a tall levy, maintained by staff and prisoners called
"trustees" who have proven themselves trustworthy enough to work
amongst staff, other prisoners, and the many visitors who tour Angola each year
while earning a bit more pay per hour. There are no actual fences on the
outside perimeter - nature is given that task. The Warden's home sits high on
top of a hill, overlooking the land.</span><br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-g2evTRtWyOc/W-YLHyb0tlI/AAAAAAAAMm0/bS6RYrIJG3ITcz4DYO6yPf4UvNd_zzwYgCEwYBhgL/s1600/overheadII.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="201" data-original-width="970" height="129" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-g2evTRtWyOc/W-YLHyb0tlI/AAAAAAAAMm0/bS6RYrIJG3ITcz4DYO6yPf4UvNd_zzwYgCEwYBhgL/s640/overheadII.png" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: black;">Kpel965.com</span></span></div>
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Several guard towers on the inside of the property stand vacant due to
downsizing and budget cuts. To keep offenders within their Camps, a double
layer of barbed wire fencing surrounds each camp. Cameras monitor the fences at
all times. At night, dogs trained by an elite group of 12 trustees are set
loose to roam the perimeters; these dogs aren't just a standard breed, however.
German Shepherds are bred with wolves in order to instill a primal fear into offenders
who may consider a chance at escape. Trained by men who are “lifers” for first
degree murder, the preconceived potential fury of such a partnership is quite
palpable.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VLCYFq163CI/W-YLLiV7-9I/AAAAAAAAMm4/0DDpZem3Rp45x7apCAmvI8DA5U5roVgFwCEwYBhgL/s1600/wolfdog.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="639" data-original-width="959" height="266" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VLCYFq163CI/W-YLLiV7-9I/AAAAAAAAMm4/0DDpZem3Rp45x7apCAmvI8DA5U5roVgFwCEwYBhgL/s400/wolfdog.png" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: black;"> reddit.com</span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dJ4MwFXEaik/W-YLBRqHyNI/AAAAAAAAMmk/xgzQRehInhQXmO6gHj_kerg88PneDejFACEwYBhgL/s1600/barbedwire.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="422" data-original-width="634" height="265" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dJ4MwFXEaik/W-YLBRqHyNI/AAAAAAAAMmk/xgzQRehInhQXmO6gHj_kerg88PneDejFACEwYBhgL/s400/barbedwire.png" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: black;">Dailymail.co.uk</span></span><span style="line-height: 107%; margin: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
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The prison, called "The Farm," indeed does consist of much farmland,
tended by trustees. Wheat, corn, soy, sugarcane, and all kinds of vegetables
are grown on Angola. Cows, horses, and a lone camel reside on the green land.
The prison sustains itself and sends produce and other goods (such as homemade
jellies) out into the community. A dairy was shut down about twelve years ago.
The land itself is saturated with recent rains as well as runoff from the
nearby Mississippi River. </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BUQROjCQFNA/W-YLBZEEwGI/AAAAAAAAMmo/s9RzW8_PgdYHjCp0cKqAJFawLyGYmjs6wCEwYBhgL/s1600/cornsilo.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="372" data-original-width="500" height="297" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BUQROjCQFNA/W-YLBZEEwGI/AAAAAAAAMmo/s9RzW8_PgdYHjCp0cKqAJFawLyGYmjs6wCEwYBhgL/s400/cornsilo.png" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: black;">Mapcarta.com</span></span></div>
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Many years ago, Warden Burl Cain (resigned in 2016) developed a hospice program for his inmates -
determined to make every death a “good” one. As he states in the documentary
"Serving Life," "I'll dig your grave, and someone else will dig
mine." It is to be said, however, that Warden Cain was often seen by
inmates as the leader of a great plantation, providing medical care and hospice
services as somewhat of a “cold comfort,” as stated by A, one of the hospice
volunteers in an article written many years ago. Although hospice services do
assist in a better dying experience, men are still dying within prison walls.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rdK2vHrahfY/W-YLLdm5z3I/AAAAAAAAMmw/ITs-5u3nPOQXx3ZuCsYqjCWww71Ai1VPwCEwYBhgL/s1600/warden.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="355" data-original-width="474" height="298" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rdK2vHrahfY/W-YLLdm5z3I/AAAAAAAAMmw/ITs-5u3nPOQXx3ZuCsYqjCWww71Ai1VPwCEwYBhgL/s400/warden.png" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: black;">Usatoday.com</span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: black;">Two nurses per shift work within the hospice
ward, and 36 volunteer inmates are trained to assist the nurses in providing
intimate, daily care for the seriously ill and dying patients. Volunteers are
interviewed and put through an intensive 40-hour training program in which they
learn to care for others, and for themselves. Many volunteers have become
skilled sewers, making quilts for dying patients so they are covered
beautifully while being taken to their final resting place on the grounds. </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zTTa5lNMmdY/W-YLLSri1KI/AAAAAAAAMm4/RHUamhJ26gQNSjJgWrAvJOmZ5o5egiN8gCEwYBhgL/s1600/quilt.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="355" data-original-width="474" height="298" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zTTa5lNMmdY/W-YLLSri1KI/AAAAAAAAMm4/RHUamhJ26gQNSjJgWrAvJOmZ5o5egiN8gCEwYBhgL/s400/quilt.png" width="400" /></span></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="line-height: 107%; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: black;">Theadvertiser.com</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><br />
While in the Hospice Chapel, also built by offenders, I was struck by the
beauty of the simplicity of the program. The volunteers are not able to use
their volunteer hours for "brownie points" for parole - often, the
parole board is completely unaware of the inmates' involvement. This is done
intentionally so volunteering is done for reasons other than impressing the
board in hopes of an earlier parole. While in the Chapel, we were joined by M,
S, and A, who have all been volunteering since the inception of the program -
well over 25 years. The nurse manager was also present to answer the more
medical-based questions, however the session mostly focused around what the
volunteers were describing. They all wore special hospice t-shirts, which
identifies them across the prison. The Chapel itself has a labyrinth carved
into the floor for the prisoners to use for meditation and reflection, and is
where funeral services are held for inmates. The acoustics within the chapel
amplified the harmonic voice of M, as he sang a hymn to us, much like the hymns
sung at funerals. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><br />
When I asked M later about the energy shift within the prison after the program
was started, and if there even was one, he told me that the program is
well-respected, and that the volunteers often find themselves given a bit of extra
leeway by fellow offenders - that's not to say, however, that they're not held
to the same strict behavior standards. Any tiny amount of misbehavior, and the
privilege of volunteering is revoked forever. That is a fear many of the
volunteers hold close to their heart. Many of these men verbalized their sorrow
and regret for past actions - they know that they can never “set things right,”
however they do desperately want to make retributions as much as they possibly
can. </span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: black;">ofnotemagazine.com</span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: black;">As 55 of us ventured into the hospital ward
where the hospice and palliative patients lay, there was a definite sense of
trepidation. Later, on the return to New Orleans, it was noted that many of us
felt we were infiltrating the privacy and peace of these men. Several patients
were seen pulling the covers over the head, while several others stared at us
either with a variety of expressions - anxiety, hope, confusion. It was a
surprise to us all to be set free within the large room to visit with bedbound
prisoners, and immediately, the room swarmed with voices raised in open
conversation. I noticed immediately that the group ensured that every man had
someone at their bedside. <br />
<br />
The hospice rooms themselves are on the sides of the large room - there are six
rooms with doors - these rooms offer windows, televisions, and a large chair or
couch for family visits. Families are encouraged to visit their loved ones,
much as in the outside world. The large, central room, is a disarray of
enormous oxygen tanks, electric and hand-cranked hospital beds, medical
equipment, and a feeling of despair which the nurses and volunteers do their
best to assuage. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><br />
As I was speaking with the nurses, inquiring as to whether or not they had any
integrative therapy programs (they do have pet therapy,) I noticed that one of
the hospice rooms had opened, and a small man was sitting in a wheelchair in
the doorway, quietly watching the increasingly loud conversation in the larger
room. There was an energy about him that I recognized immediately - a sense of
wanting so much to belong, but a shyness about being turned away. I was drawn
to him, and found myself sitting on the floor next to his wheelchair. His
toothless smile upon my introduction and a handshake of his cool, extremely
calloused hand, brought about a sense of comfort to us both. He has been a
patient of hospice for a few months, and a prisoner of Angola for 25 years. I
did not ask him what for, as I didn't feel it relevant to any form of conversation
that would bring him a bit of joy on that day. I told him I was a nurse, a
hospice nurse specifically, as he asked why so many people were visiting. <br />
<br />
During our conversation. Mr. E opened up to me about his desire to see his
younger brother again, and how he wanted so much to die outside of the thick,
cold, concrete walls. He understood it probably wouldn't happen, a
compassionate release, but that hope would not diminish. He was happy to not be
in pain, although expressed frustration that he needed to be on oxygen 24/7. I
shared that I understood the frustration, as I had spent 7 months of my life
attached to a tank. He asked me if I knew of anything that would help his COPD
symptoms, and I suggested a few things which the wonderful nurses had already
been doing. Sadly, our visit didn't last for too much longer, as I noticed our
large group streaming out of the medical ward. When I went to say goodbye, I
noticed that we had been holding each other's hands for quite some time. I
didn't even recognize my action as being anything special - but these men have
such infrequent touch that I can only hope it offered some comfort. It is a
struggle to not tear up when I think of his smile. "Well, what if he did
such and such?" I don't know that he did such and such, all I see is a
human being in need of human interaction. <br />
<br />
Many of the volunteers committed atrocious crimes years and years ago - many
were convicted of second degree murder or first degree assault and robbery. Not
once did I feel like I was in danger, objectified, or at risk of being harmed.
It wasn't that the security was amazing - which it was - there was a dual
respect shown which was really quite incredible to witness. Staff gave the
volunteers and trustees respect, and the volunteers and trustees afforded the
utmost respect to visitors and staff. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="line-height: 107%; margin: 0px;">After leaving the hospice, it was appropriate that we visited </span><span style="line-height: 107%; margin: 0px;">Our Lady of Guadalupe Chapel at Angola</span> <span style="line-height: 107%; margin: 0px;">by the hospital. I was not surprised to learn that this was also
built by inmates, but I was stunned to learn that it had been built, by 50
inmates, in only 38 days. The architect was an inmate, and was dying of cancer
while the building was being built and painted. He was hoisted bodily up to the
ceiling of the church in order to paint the portraits of Jesus and other apostles,
due to his weakness. He died only a month after completion of the church. It's
incredibly stunning work, full of color. </span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: black;">This was truly a once-in-a-lifetime experience for me. I encourage all of you
to reach out into your communities and see where differences can be made. I'm
not suggesting that you visit sick prisoners, however perhaps check into how
you can volunteer in hospices within your communities. It does make a
difference to patients and families. <br />
<br />
And check out "Serving Life," a wonderful documentary on the Angola
Hospice Volunteer Program. There is also a documentary called "The Farm" which is about serving time in Angola. </span></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04680615822666921191noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8701931726893364478.post-46260402632943336792017-06-26T20:05:00.000-07:002017-06-26T20:05:33.059-07:00An Open Letter to My Future Kiddo
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 11px;">
<span style="font-family: "Footlight MT Light",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; margin: 0px;">An Open Letter to My Future Kiddo</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 11px;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 11px;">
<span style="font-family: "Footlight MT Light",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; margin: 0px;">Hi, peanut.</span><span style="font-family: "Footlight MT Light",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; margin: 0px;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 11px;">
<span style="font-family: "Footlight MT Light",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; margin: 0px;">Right now I don’t know who you are. I don’t even
know if you’ve been born yet. I don’t know where you are, if you’re a boy or
girl, if you have brown eyes like me, or eyes the color of the sky right when
the sun breaks through after a storm. I do know, though, that I feel you in my
heart. I already love you, and I have no idea what your name is, or if you get
the hiccups a lot, or if you think that blanket forts are the best thing ever.</span><span style="font-family: "Footlight MT Light",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; margin: 0px;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 11px;">
<span style="font-family: "Footlight MT Light",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; margin: 0px;">I hope you like blanket forts, and if you’ve never
built one, I hope you let me teach you.</span><span style="font-family: "Footlight MT Light",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; margin: 0px;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 11px;">
<span style="font-family: "Footlight MT Light",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; margin: 0px;">I know you’ve probably been through a lot, even if
you don’t remember all of it. Things like that will stick with you, and I’m
here for you to listen, or hug, or just sit and be quiet over a bowl of ice
cream. Do you like ice cream? </span><span style="font-family: "Footlight MT Light",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; margin: 0px;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 11px;">
<span style="font-family: "Footlight MT Light",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; margin: 0px;">It’s okay if you don’t want me to hug you at first,
or even if it takes a long time to trust me. While I’m adopted, I was a newborn
and I don’t remember things. It’s okay for you to remember, and it’s okay for
you to cry and hurt if you need to. This house will be a safe space for you. Can
I tell you a secret? I’m scared, too. I know I’m the “grown up,” but my heart
beats a zillion times a minute thinking that you are coming here to live with
me, that we will be a family. </span><span style="font-family: "Footlight MT Light",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; margin: 0px;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 11px;">
<span style="font-family: "Footlight MT Light",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; margin: 0px;">Your grandparents are pretty cool people. You can
call them by their first names, or you can call them Grandma and Grandpa, or
Nana and Papa, or whatever you like. They’re really excited to meet you. They
adopted me when I was a baby, and then four years later, adopted a cute little
girl who became my sister. I’m sad that my sister isn’t alive anymore, but I
have lots of pictures and stories. She would have loved you, too. She always
asked me when she would get to be an aunt. Now she is one, and I know she’s
happy wherever she is. My mom and dad live about 30 minutes away from us. Does
that seem far? It really isn’t… I just put on<span style="margin: 0px;">
</span>some good music in the car and am home in no time! What kind of music do
you like?</span><span style="font-family: "Footlight MT Light",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; margin: 0px;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 11px;">
<span style="font-family: "Footlight MT Light",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; margin: 0px;">When you come home, because this is your forever
home, I will have your room all ready for you. I don’t know exactly what you
will like, but it will be fun for you to choose things to decorate your room
with. You will have lots of choices, and I look forward to seeing what your
personality looks like! Do you like teddy bears? Ladybugs? Butterflies? I have
lots of butterflies in this house because my sister liked them, and I like to
see them and think about her. I have two cats, too. They’re pretty old, but
think they’re kittens. I call them Bandit and Bubba. Bubba takes a little bit
to get to know people, but Bandit will come and meet you right away. They’re
both very good cats and like to sleep a lot. </span><span style="font-family: "Footlight MT Light",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; margin: 0px;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 11px;">
<span style="font-family: "Footlight MT Light",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; margin: 0px;">When you come home, I will have lots of time off of
work so we can get to know each other. I’m a nurse at a hospital, and I teach
other nurses new things. I work with a lot of really cool people.<span style="margin: 0px;"> </span>Do you know what nurses do? They take care of
sick people and work with doctors to make them comfortable and feel better. I
don’t know if you’ve been in a hospital, but I will bring you to work one day
if you want to, so you can see that it’s not such a scary place. There is a lot
of love that happens there, too. </span><span style="font-family: "Footlight MT Light",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; margin: 0px;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 11px;">
<span style="font-family: "Footlight MT Light",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; margin: 0px;">I hope one day soon to get a phone call asking me
to meet you. I’ve been working hard on my paperwork and classes so I can have
people come over and make sure my home is safe and ready for you. I can’t wait
to find out about you, and have your home and room ready for you to come be in
a safe space. I want you to know that I’m thankful for your birth family,
because they brought you into this world. When you are grown up, I will support
you 100% if you want to find them. It’s weird knowing that you have two
families, isn’t it? </span><span style="font-family: "Footlight MT Light",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; margin: 0px;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 11px;">
<span style="font-family: "Footlight MT Light",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; margin: 0px;">I love you, Kiddo. I hope you’re well wherever you
are, even if you haven’t been introduced to this Earth just yet. There’s a
billion more pages I could write, and maybe I’ll keep adding on to this. You’ll
have a novel by the time you arrive!</span></div>
<br />
<img alt="post signature" class="centered" src="http://img715.imageshack.us/img715/5228/signature2g.jpg" />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04680615822666921191noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8701931726893364478.post-54474544267828767122017-05-29T17:16:00.000-07:002017-05-29T17:16:40.887-07:00Sometimes you feel physically tiny yet spiritually infinite - The Sedona TaleI don't know if any of you do this, too, but I like to write about things that have changed me just as the magic starts to wear off, just as the memories start to fade... that way I'm able to write about it and rekindle those feelings, those emotions, that sense of expansiveness and holistic healing.<br />
<br />
Earlier this month, only two weeks ago, I was in Sedona. I can't believe it was only two weeks ago. It feels like it was years and yet just yesterday. I think I left a part of my soul there, although my heartsong was reinforced and has left me with a sense of peace and wisdom. I put a lot of trust in this trip, as I wished it to be a journey of healing and release.<br />
<br />
Okay, I know it sounds romantic, but being in that environment, amongst the Red Rocks which grew to be friends and mentors, I experienced another shift in my Self. I'm not sure who has been to Sedona, but I highly recommend it. Some go for the hiking, some go for the tourist attractions, some go for the shopping... I went there because I have felt drawn to that area for years. This was my first experience, and I wasn't prepared for what I learned.<br />
<br />
My first day, I arrived early in Sedona. I wasn't to check into my AirBnB until about 4, however I had made a couple of appointments. My first appointment was with a <a href="http://calebludeman.com/" target="_blank">BodyTalk practitioner named Caleb</a>. I'd heard of BodyTalk, however had never experienced it for myself. Imagine psychotherapy mixed in with Healing Touch or other energy-movement modalities. I went in to my appointment not expecting anything, but hoping for emotional enlightenment. I had some preconceptions about what I was going to talk about, such as stressors over the past several years, however after a couple of hours, I had tears pouring out of my eyes as we pressed into issues that I never had considered. I left feeling cleansed, emotionally, and looked forward to booking another session.<br />
<br />
Afterwards, I had scheduled a Spa day at <a href="http://www.sedonanewdayspa.com/snds_body_treatments.html" target="_blank">Sedona New Day Spa</a>, including a Turquoise Sage Mountain Arnica treatment. I was able to relax in their hot tub for awhile, and then rested in the sun until the therapist came to usher me in. Her name escapes me at the moment; it begins with an M... and she was highly intuitive as to what my physical body needed. After 90 minutes of pure bliss, I floated back to my car, feeling completely relaxed. As I had time to spare, I played in the <a href="http://www.crystalmagic.com/" target="_blank">Crystal Magic</a> shop down the road and picked up some groceries at the Whole Foods before beginning the short drive to the AirBnB. My goal was to eat lightly and vegan, as I wished to purify my physical body during this journey. <br />
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On my drive to the AirBnB... I rounded the corner and was treated to this display for the first time.</div>
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I said, "Are you KIDDING me?"</div>
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My AirBnB was a true retreat, very simple, with a bedroom, living room, kitchen, and bathroom. The homeowner had a pond in her backyard which was filled with trees and bamboo. It was just beautiful, and I slept very well that night after meeting the homeowner and taking a short walk around the area.<br />
<br />
The second morning I explored Sedona, stopping first at the <a href="https://www.tara.org/featured_post/amitabha-stupa/" target="_blank">Amitabha Stupa.</a> I circumambulated the Stupa, praying and chanting to myself, asking for peace and guidance for not only myself, but my fellow human beings. Following that, I sat at the feet of this gentle giant on the hill, and felt my remaining emotional stressors burgeoning to the surface. I was glad it was early, as my tears fell freely, and there weren't many people to witness this release. <br />
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Afterwards, I spent a few hours hiking Thunder Mountain Trail... the views and rock formations were breathtaking. Later that day, I went up to Airport Mesa and hiked there, too. I think I had almost 17,000 steps on the ol' Fitbit that day!<br />
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I spent the remainder of my days in Sedona hiking all over the place. Airport Mesa, Cathedral Rock... (Oak Creek was SO purifying and beautiful...)<br />
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And Bell Rock.......<br />
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I spent more time back at the Stupa, and visited the Chapel of the Holy Cross where I spent more time in prayer... I did most of my praying on the trails, however. <br />
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I cried a lot of tears. They were tears of joy, such as those I shed each time a beautiful vista was opened up to me around a corner. There were tears of release, of sadness and anger and frustration. I shed those and washed them away in the cool waters of Oak Creek. For those of you who know me, I bottle up my emotions and rarely cry. I am happy that I was able to release those tears in such a pure place.<br />
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My last day, I happened upon a place called <a href="https://www.thechaispot.com/locations-and-hours" target="_blank">The Chai Spot.</a> I wandered in to a lovely-smelling storefront with very few people in the room. All I know of Chai is what I occasionally buy from Starbucks, so I admitted as much to the sweet girl behind the counter. Savannah, her name was, educated me with great enthusiasm on chai and its origins. She suggested a drink for me, dairy free, and chatted happily with me while I enjoyed this beverage. She then handed me a magazine with an article on the owners of the Chai Spot, which told their story of falling in love even through cultural boundaries and family tensions. <br />
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I felt that I received a lot of messages in this journey. I know now that I don't have to be afraid of the future, that whatever happens is for a reason. I can be upset about something or I can search for the truth within the message. It's up to me to decipher what the internal words mean, not just to jump on the emotional bandwagon of what I "should be" feeling about it. <br />
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I look forward, very much, to my next trip to Sedona. I truly adored the region and the people, and of course, my Red Rocks. <br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04680615822666921191noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8701931726893364478.post-31780567302357859852017-04-30T20:06:00.001-07:002017-04-30T20:06:40.416-07:00Another beginningThe cool thing about being human is the constant opportunity to renew yourself. I was telling my "story" the other day to an interested party, and was again struck by all the shit that's happened over the past three years. Not all of it has been literal shit, but a lot of it was, and you know what? I'm using that as fertilizer for the good stuff that's coming my way. <br />
<br />
Among the break-ups and my sister dying, and the 7 months of cardiac drama I went through, and fighting to get through school, and more break-ups, and association drama, and gaining 40 pounds, I figured that life was pretty much over, right? Nope!<br />
<br />
I finished my MSN. I bought a home that's everything I ever wanted. I'm going back to school next month for my Clinical Nurse Specialist certification. I'm heavily involved in planning my first vacation in four years. I've discovered yoga and Pilates and meditation and renewal. I've started down the path to adopt a child, and will have the second phase completed in late June. I've made lifelong friends who have become my extended family. I've become closer with my parents. I've lost 10 of those 40 pounds. <br />
<br />
I chose to eliminate coffee, alcohol, and most processed foods. I journal every night and every morning in the <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Five-Minute-Journal-Happier-Minutes/dp/0991846206" target="_blank">"5-minute journal"</a> that I received at the SHARP Women's Health Conference in April. I've made self-care a priority for the first time in years. I have released my painful desire to be in a relationship, as I realize I can't be a functional part of a duo if I am not in love with myself. <br />
<br />
That's my current journey. Finding my love for myself. I believe in romance, and that head-over-heels love that you read about and see on the faces of your Facebook friends when they post photos of their weddings and engagements. I am glad to know it exists. I may never find it for myself, but I'm at peace knowing that it does exist in this world. I am filled with the love I have for my family and friends, and thrive on the hugs and laughter and silliness that we share.<br />
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On another note, we're surrounded with so much STUFF, right? If love is so fulfilling, why do we have so much STUFF. We're covered in THINGS... even now, I'm surrounded by sofa pillows. Why do I need 7 sofa pillows? Earlier this month, I was in Sacramento at RN Day at the Capitol. I was introduced to several of the people there who were homeless. I was struck by their stories, the humility they show as they face such adversity that most of us would probably be a total mess. One little lady was surrounded by umbrellas as she slept in the shade. She used one as a "gate," between her and a nearby planter, protecting her valuables from curious fingers. When I returned to her, bringing milk and pudding per her request, she presented me with two paper boats. I was immediately humbled that this woman, who has so little, took the time to make me these boats and then educate me on how they should be used. <br />
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I credit her for transforming my perspective on just about everything. We have a lot, if we just know how to look at it. <br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04680615822666921191noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8701931726893364478.post-1893500766383623012017-02-17T12:00:00.001-08:002017-02-17T12:00:18.827-08:00Continued growthHello, loves. It's been awhile, hasn't it? I last posted in July 2016 after having my procedure to "fix" my heart issues. I'm happy to say that I feel well physically... I guess having oxygen will do that to a person. :)<br />
<br />
I've started a new job as a nurse educator in a local hospital, and I love it. Continuing my work in palliative care and oncology has been a blessing, and I'm able to use my passion for this work every single day. While my job description is about three pages long, the focus is on patient advocacy, nurse advocacy, and working together as a team. I have been blessed to be included in projects utilizing evidence-based practice, facilitating Unit Practice Council meetings and projects, and getting our hospital ready for Magnet re-designation. <br />
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I do admit to missing my work with patients every day. I go into rooms to fix beeping IV machines and assist patients who are fall risks, yet I rarely have been able to sit and have conversations with these people who are undergoing rough periods in their lives. We're a very busy hospital, and I often observe my nurses running around, wondering if that's how I looked when I worked on the floor. We're expecting to have more downtime coming up, and I look forward to having the time to assist my colleagues with their patient care. <br />
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In other news, I have applied to return to school (!!!) for my Post-MSN certificate as a Clinical Nurse Specialist (CNS). I would focus on Adult/Gerontology and hope to have a specific focus in Palliative Care and ensuring comfort to patients on our Palliative/Oncology unit. While my MSN in Nursing Education provided me with excellent knowledge base, the addition of Advanced Pathophysiology, Assessment, and Pharmacology would renew my brain cells and allow for the simple power of additional knowledge to assist my nurses and patient population. <br />
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Personal plans include the renewal of my dedication to adopt a child in need of a forever home. As you know, I canceled my classes when my sister passed away in 2014, however I feel that the time has come again to open my heart to the possibility of a young person in my life. I look forward to this journey as well as any other that comes my way.<br />
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I hope you all are well. Live life freely and with love and light.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04680615822666921191noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8701931726893364478.post-29384505240483695802016-07-31T10:54:00.000-07:002016-07-31T10:54:59.349-07:00* Bloom *<br />
I feel as if I've been given a second chance at life. <br />
<br />
I had my percutaneous closure about 2 1/2 weeks ago and I feel amazing. It took me awhile to heal from it and get over the sore throat from intubation and another TEE, but I feel incredible. My left arm is still tender but I've found a compression sleeve really helps with that. My oxygenation is at 98% on room air so my tanks are sitting sadly in the hallway waiting to be picked up. I will admit I'm nervous to let them go, but it's settling in that I don't need them anymore. <br />
<br />
I'm able to walk up stairs and hike around the block without feeling winded. I bought a treadmill and was able to knock out 2 minutes of jogging before my legs, not my heart or lungs, decided they couldn't handle anymore. I didn't feel dizzy or faint or truly out of breath, just out of shape. :) I find joy in analyzing my "new" wiring and seeing what has changed.<br />
<br />
Yesterday I represented my nursing organization at the California Nursing Students' Association Membership South Meeting. It was an invigorating experience to be with the students again and out in the world. I didn't realize how much I missed doing nursey stuff until I saw those friendly, familiar faces and had more hugs than I have had in a very long time. The nursing world is so full of support and energy! Afterwards, I had an early dinner with a sweet friend of mine - we dove into topics that were quite personal for both of us, and I hope it was as healing for her as it was for me. It's always amazing to realize that you're never alone in the world; someone usually has been through what you have. Thank you, my dear friend. <br />
<br />
I start my new job tomorrow, and am just thrilled for the experiences that I've been blessed with. I'm dearly hoping that I will be able to lead and inspire just as I will be inspired by my new team. If you had asked me five years ago where I thought I'd be, it would be very different from where I am now. <br />
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I couldn't ask for anything else. Life is good. I am grateful. <br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04680615822666921191noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8701931726893364478.post-24931850951883000642016-05-28T15:25:00.001-07:002016-05-28T15:25:34.110-07:00JoyA friend of mine messaged me a couple of weeks ago asking me to help generate some joy in the universe. She, and I, felt that there was a large amount of negativity in the atmosphere and that there needed to be some happy to go along with it. I know that the planets are, and have been, in retrograde, which affects everyone differently. I'm one of those that is affected positively by this retrograde... I am clearer and a lot more gets done. <br />
<br />
One activity that we chose to take part in was to think of things that bring us joy and to write them down. While I didn't have a chance to do this during the full Flower Moon due to two very snuggly kitties, I still sat and meditated on what brings me joy. Even the littlest thing was stored away in a mental file for later use. When I woke up the next morning, I experienced my "perfect day." It was amazing, like something had shifted.<br />
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We all need those little things, like I wrote about several weeks ago. Sometimes the media and our own life experiences allow us to just wade through a mucky swamp of negativity which does absolutely nothing for us except bring us down even deeper. Do you recall a time when this happened to you? What brought you out of it? Do you remember how sticky it was and how more negativity was almost magnetically drawn to you at that time? <br />
<br />
Here is a list of things that bring me joy, and this list is not all-inclusive. I've made it a goal to find something joyous every day, no matter how trite or insignificant it may seem. <br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>This home. My home, that I'm paying mortgage on. I am delighted with my home. It speaks to who I am. Especially my bright turquoise half-bath.</li>
<li>The two furballs who were snuggling with me and continue to snuggle every chance they get. I am overcome with love and joy whenever they're near.</li>
<li>My parents. Their support and encouragement has seen me through good times and bad.</li>
<li>My baby sister. Although she is not on this earthly plane anymore, memories and photos bring me joy (as do her text messages.)</li>
<li>Being surrounded by antique family belongings... my Dad's Japanese screen and monkeypod coffee table as well as my great-aunt's globe bring me a sense of centeredness and connection.</li>
<li>Salted caramel coffee. No explanation required.</li>
<li>Receiving the news that I do not need open heart surgery at this time.</li>
<li>Sharing the news that I do not need open heart surgery at this time.</li>
<li>Seeing friends share engagement photos on Facebook and Twitter.</li>
<li>The friendships that I've made through social media. Random, but joyous!</li>
<li>My spiritual practices.</li>
<li>Love ... love from anyone and everyone who has extra to give all over the world.</li>
<li>My dear friends who make sure that I don't become a hermit.</li>
<li>The promise of tomorrow.</li>
</ul>
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I would love to hear some things that bring YOU joy!</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04680615822666921191noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8701931726893364478.post-60357586160598004772016-05-19T12:39:00.000-07:002016-05-19T12:39:10.420-07:00Proud Mutant Nurse <br />
I realize I haven't posted much on the ol' blog recently. There's been a lot going on. Let me fill you in. Actually, I'll write a bit while you go grab a cup of coffee or tea. <br />
<br />
So I finally found out that I will not be needing open heart surgery at this time. I have this random bridging vessel between my weird superior vena cava and my other vessel that seems to be able to handle the additional pressure. They will simply plug off the weird vena cava below the bridging vessel. My stenotic pulmonary vein is also not as severe as originally thought, and stenting would only cause further issues down the road. If I would need it fixed in the future, full open heart would be the only option. They'll fix me up in July, keep me in the hospital overnight for monitoring, and then I'll be good to go. <br />
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Isn't that rad?!<br />
<br />
I'm feeling much better mentally and emotionally, too, for those of you wondering how that status was doing. The antidepressants and sleep medications really have helped and I am feeling much more like myself. I've also cleaned up my diet and feel better about myself by not ingesting a lot of preservatives and boxed foods. I've been drinking a lot of water and green tea, and imagine it flushing away stress and toxins.<br />
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Also, this past weekend, this happened:<br />
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I attended my commencement for earning my Master of Science in Nursing Education this past Saturday. The top photo is of my cap, which has a photo of my sister, Becky, who passed in 2014. I told her that I would finish this degree for her. The bottom photo is of my folks and Roxy the Cylinder who comes with me wherever I go. The purple cords, for those wondering, are for Sigma Theta Tau, the International Nursing Honors Society. I don't think I've ever had a photo where my cords are on straight. <br />
<br />
(Nope, I just checked my BSN graduation and they were crooked, there, too.)<br />
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I'm so grateful for my family and friends for their support as I worked my way through this program. I thought I wasn't going to be able to finish, due to my health issues, but my advisors at University of Phoenix and I worked together to find a solution, and I was able to do my MSN project "virtually" which means I imagined a presentation within a virtual setting and I didn't actually implement it in my hospital. Because I still can't drive, this was a huge relief to me and I finished the project with good results. Now I just have one more two-week course to get through, where we turn in our project work, and I'm through! I'll be able to sign MSN, RN, CHPN after my name as soon as my degree confers! :)<br />
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Also, it should be said that I've heard a lot of schmuck talked about Phoenix. My program was one hell of a tough program which required hours and days and weeks of diligent research and time in front of the computer. For almost two years straight, minus holiday breaks, I have been in front of this screen typing discussion questions, reviewing literature, writing endless papers, and assembling an educational curriculum on end-of-life care from scratch. It's not easy, and those people who say it's a crap education should try it themselves. <br />
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Thank you to you all for reading, and I'll be back soon, promise! :) <br />
<br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04680615822666921191noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8701931726893364478.post-62369476211183130362016-04-11T17:48:00.000-07:002016-04-11T17:48:00.268-07:00I asked for help today.
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I asked for help today. As hard as it was to pick up the
phone and dial up my former psychiatrist after so many years, I did so. I have carried on for over
three months since my initial surgery going up and down and up and down… and then
the downs became longer and the brain fog became thicker. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">While the fog may be primarily due to all of the medications
and anesthetics and sedatives, it’s taken on a more familiar tint of gray that
I know well. There isn’t much for me to “talk about” however I know when the
chemistry in my system becomes darker and uneven. All there is now is to figure
out which medication won’t mess with my QT interval and cause more cardiac
issues (even going on an antidepressant becomes an adventure, now, see?)</span></div>
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<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I know that this is one more step in the road, and that it will
be okay. I am not in a severely deep, dark place – and for that I’m grateful. I
felt that I was on that bumpy, slippery cobblestone road, though. I’m sure that
hormonal variances have assisted in the deepening gloom, but I’m not going to “wait
and see” anymore. This is a hard enough journey – and I miss my mind. I miss
finding humor in just about anything, although I still do laugh at
ridiculousness. There was an episode I just watched of Downton Abbey which made
me giggle for awhile. It was then that I realized that I didn’t recognize my
own chuckle anymore. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">My goal is to stop this in its tracks before it goes any
further. I am quite aware that I’m not the only patient in the world who
experiences these darker moments, and I’m blessed to have recognized the signs.
I can only hope that this chapter will assist more out there who realize that
it’s perfectly fine to pick up the phone and get back to "normal." Or, if you’re also a Super Mutant, as normal as possible. </span></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><br />
<br />
<img alt="post signature" class="centered" src="http://img715.imageshack.us/img715/5228/signature2g.jpg" />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04680615822666921191noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8701931726893364478.post-32763340561249897092016-04-08T14:59:00.002-07:002016-04-08T14:59:33.373-07:00Brain fog<br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“You do know
there is a chance that you won’t be able to return to work as a nurse.”</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">That is what
my physician told me at a follow-up visit a few days ago. I appreciate this. I
appreciate his matter-of-factness and his ability to be up front with me. While
I clarified with him that I may not be able to return in the capacity that I’m
accustomed to, I still thank him for being one of the few who have the balls to
tell it like it is. I see so many physicians say, “Oh, you’ll be right back to
where you were.” I may not be, and that is something that I am in full
realization of.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I was still
getting my mind back from my December surgery, when I was given at least 8 mg
of Versed and 2 mcg of Fentanyl for my TEE/cath a couple of weeks ago. I often
wonder if I’ll ever get my sharpness back. With the added threat of <a href="http://www.seedsofcoriander.com/2016/01/pumphead-and-chocolate-pudding.html" target="_blank">“pumphead”</a>
that I wrote about a couple of months ago, this is my main concern. It’s
frustrating not being able to come up with a word that I use every day. I’ve
had to ask family and friends, “Hey what’s that word that means this and that?”
I have lists all over the house of things that I am supposed to do, and then I
promptly forget about the list. I’ve missed telephone conferences because I
didn’t have them written down in my calendar… but I’ll forget to check the
calendar. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I was also
asked by my Doc if I’ve experienced concerning depression. I admitted that I’ve
had my tough moments but I’ve always been able to find my way out. I know that
I have resources for if, or when, I need them, and I’m not shy about asking for
help. I also know that any potential anti-depressant use may cause further
cardiac problems depending on the drug class. This foggy brain has a lot to do
with all of this. While I’m frustrated with my physical limitations, I’m even
more frustrated with the additional mental limitations. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">That’s where
I am right now. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I’ll be
fine, I will.</span></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><br />
<img alt="post signature" class="centered" src="http://img715.imageshack.us/img715/5228/signature2g.jpg" />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04680615822666921191noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8701931726893364478.post-75638892771018382262016-03-31T18:05:00.000-07:002016-03-31T18:05:20.156-07:00What is it like having a TEE and cardiac catheterization?
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">So, I’m SURE you’re just dying to know what it’s like
having a transesophageal echocardiogram (TEE) and a cardiac catheterization all
in the same day!</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Mom and I got to the hospital at 9 a.m. and were promptly
ushered to the waiting area, where the wait was maybe around five minutes. A
lovely woman, Renee, was at the cath lab concierge desk (yes, that’s a thing)
and was wonderful and calming. I was shipped back to a corner suite where I was
informed the TEE would be taking place, and afterwards I would be hauled down
the hallway to the cath lab. I changed into my always stunning green hospital
gown and skid-free socks and cuddled up under warm blankets due to the frigid
atmosphere of the room. Roxy the Oxygen Tank was replaced by wall oxygen, and I
was fitted for my very own capnography cannula. Try talking with a spoon over
your mouth and you’ll get the general idea of what that’s like. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I informed the RN that I was happy to receive an IV into my
right arm, but IVs into my left arm usually didn’t turn out that great with
fainting and weird results and things. She skipped off to consult with the MD
that would be performing this procedure after I explained my funky anatomy to
her in great depth. (It turns out that the MD had already called the MD who
read my original CT angiogram to confer as to exactly what the hell was going
on with me. #Mutant) So, I had an IV in each arm and an itchy nose. Naturally.
I also was given Valium and Benadryl. I felt a bit mellow, but that’s about it.
</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The MD who was doing the TEE came in, and was full of good
energy and evidently very excited to be on my case. He showed the CT video to
the two nurses who were in the room. One RN hooked up a double syringe to my
right arm which held the magic meds, Fentanyl and Versed. They helped roll me
onto my left side, gave me a lovely pink bite block (to protect the doc, they
said) and injected me with the medications. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">All I remember after that was what seemed to be a twirling
black Rubik’s cube heading directly down my throat. As I write this, two days
later, it still feels like my esophagus is pouting in a dark corner, and pudding
and cold drinks are about all that feel okay going down that pipe. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">For my ACLS folks out there, this might amuse you. When I
woke up, I was smilingly informed by my nurse that I had questioned the MD at
great length as to what his favorite color was, as that would be their key to
know if I’d had enough Versed. (For synchronized cardioversion during heart issues, patients are
usually sedated to the extent that they can’t remember an answer to a simple
question.) He told me “blue,” and apparently I answered him correctly when he
quizzed me later on. I have no recollection of any of this. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I was also informed that they had to give me almost double
the medications needed because I just wouldn’t “go out.” That’s normal for me.
Takes the pharmacy and a half to get me comfortable and allow tubes to go
places without me going all velociraptor on people.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I remember waking up somewhere in the cath lab, looking at
a monitor, and telling the second doc that I was doing fine. I bemusedly
watched the majority of this procedure, fading in and out. I always liked
watching the contrast going through vessels when I was able to participate in the
cath lab in nursing school. Now it was my vessels they were scrutinizing, and I
had a great view. The only time I was really uncomfortable was when they did
the radial cath on my left arm which was quite painful and they seemed
surprised when I cried out. I was given even more Fentanyl and was okay after
that. I didn’t feel anything else. I heard the words “wedge” and “stenosis” and
“holy shit” a few times. Turns out that my single left pulmonary vein is dangerously
narrow, and will have to be stented no matter what. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I remember having pressure put on my arm and groin by a
young man after the sheaths were removed. I remember Mom and Dad coming into
the recovery area, and I asked Dad how his lunch went. I vaguely remember going
up to the short stay room and engaging in enthusiastic conversation with my
nurse up there. I dozed off and on, and dove into my dinner plate when it
arrived since I hadn’t eaten anything in almost 24 hours. It was salty but
delicious chicken stir fry and the bread with it was probably the best thing in
the world. The five hours flew by that I had to remain on my back, and some
back discomfort was all that I noticed. I didn’t need pain medications for that
as I knew it would go away once I could stand up. Being able to walk after
hours of lying down is a lovely thing. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">We finally arrived back at the parents’ house at around
10:30 p.m. and I fell asleep quickly again. It has taken until today for my
brain to feel clear(ish) from the medications. I slept the majority of
yesterday and all of last night, and even had a nap today. I removed the
dressings and was surprised at how sore the two puncture sites are but have
assessed them and they appear normal. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The MD team are going to confer as to what the next steps
are. There seemed to be some question as to the “bridge” that was mentioned by
the cardiothoracic surgeon, meaning that nobody else saw a bridge. I’m not sure
as to what the next few weeks will bring, but I was told that it would take
about that much time for them to get their plans thought out. At least we’re
through this part and on the path to something or other. Right?</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></div>
<br />
<img alt="post signature" class="centered" src="http://img715.imageshack.us/img715/5228/signature2g.jpg" />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04680615822666921191noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8701931726893364478.post-83364583923338077092016-03-21T15:52:00.000-07:002016-03-21T15:52:10.031-07:00Stag Nation<h3>
I typed in "stagnation" but put in a space accidentally. It sounds like some sort of bachelor party movie, or a scary foreign country, so I left it.</h3>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">It’s about
time for an update, yeah? </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">So last week
I was told that my procedures, which were scheduled for tomorrow, had been
canceled. Why? I don’t know. At least they didn’t think I was an emergent case.
This morning they called and I was rescheduled for next week. I guess we’ll see
how that goes. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">So of
course, after I had that news last week, I had a mini-meltdown, just pissed off
and frustrated that three months has already passed and now this is going to be
stretched a little bit further. Or a lot further. Who knows. I’m just so ready
for all of this to be done. Most of my frustration stems from not being able to
hop in the car and just drive anywhere. I can’t get on a plane and travel to
conventions. I have a recertification course coming up on Saturday and have to
figure out how many oxygen tanks I need, who is picking me up, when I’m coming
home, and how many pairs of socks I have to pack because maybe I’ll be spending
the night. Usually I’d jump in the car with a cup of coffee, hope I don’t get
lost, and listen to loud music while stuck in traffic on the way home. I don’t
like depending on people to live my daily life.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">In other
news, I had a guy from Home Depot come out and give me an estimate on what it
would cost to get rid of the horrible white tiles on my counter and install
granite and a backsplash. I fell in love with a sample, "Golden Crystal," which was of course
towards the high end of the cost; Mom always said I had expensive taste, and I
guess I do. Everything I love tends to be higher priced. I figure, though, that
I really want to LOVE my kitchen and why not spend the bit of extra money to
really make it special? I spend a lot of time in there. This project will be
put off for at least several months, but I can’t wait to have it started and
finished. I’ll also refinish my cabinets, as they’re good cabinets and just
need to be re-stained. </span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RgVW5mG-7mY/VvB6Lzvg9OI/AAAAAAAABWg/hegHt9-V9TwSpINDPoj7Mq99N7B8M--vQ/s1600/11219427_10207758800390905_3677032929535693390_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RgVW5mG-7mY/VvB6Lzvg9OI/AAAAAAAABWg/hegHt9-V9TwSpINDPoj7Mq99N7B8M--vQ/s320/11219427_10207758800390905_3677032929535693390_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nasty white tile and grout and green walls</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LTqO7kVpf7E/VvB6L53chsI/AAAAAAAABWo/B-70VDTpyXEpl6OYPh8hHiXZYsaqxAcbQ/s1600/Golden-Crystal-Granite-Basement-Bar-11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="176" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LTqO7kVpf7E/VvB6L53chsI/AAAAAAAABWo/B-70VDTpyXEpl6OYPh8hHiXZYsaqxAcbQ/s320/Golden-Crystal-Granite-Basement-Bar-11.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From granitegrannies.com</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sn5rjCP_-3o/VvB6LzhJNDI/AAAAAAAABWk/nB4NokI7xwkueQQ4NYf3MSXwidsyebTHw/s1600/Golden-Crystal-Granite-Kitchen-Countertop-Finished-Installed-Granix-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sn5rjCP_-3o/VvB6LzhJNDI/AAAAAAAABWk/nB4NokI7xwkueQQ4NYf3MSXwidsyebTHw/s320/Golden-Crystal-Granite-Kitchen-Countertop-Finished-Installed-Granix-1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From granix.com</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I may have
my master bath done at the same time with the same counter, since the cabinets
are the same in there. That leads into backsplashing (is that a word?) above
the shower, or even considering having a contractor come in and tear out the
shower liner and putting in tile. I change one thing, I guess I have to change
everything. This is the stuff I think about when I’m sitting in bed at night,
waiting for the sleepy gnomes to take over.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">This coming
week I’m also going to start down in the garage, trying to make sense of some
of the disaster area down there so I can clear out my storage unit. I have a
lot of stuff that belonged to my sister, and I want to start putting some of it
in this house (and save $80 a month on top of that). I love looking around and
seeing things that belonged to my family, because they’re who and where I came
from. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Today I also
signed up to be a Coach for Team Beachbody. This happened because my Coach and
friend Karen talked me into it (I save a bit of cash on the shakes, which I love). Actually, I’ve been doing well on the 21 Day
Fix program, with extreme modifications. I’ve been following the food plan to
the best of my ability, and do what exercises I can while attached to the
oxygen tubing. They have this modifier on the program, and sometimes I will
have to modify her modifications, but I get through the exercises one way or
another. Such things like Burpees I’ll skip entirely but will jog in place or
will rest, depending on what my body is doing that day. I don’t want to risk
anything strenuous, but I know that it’s not good for me to just sit and do
nothing all day. Try doing exercises while attached to a 50-foot oxygen tubing
and let me know how that works for you. It’s a pain isn’t it? I’ve choked
myself a few times already and am surprised I have ears left from the number of
times I’ve yanked the tube off with my feet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Anyways, I am not going to get into trying to make money off this, because
I have other things to worry about, but do hope I can inspire people who didn’t
think they could improve their health due to concerns or just getting over the
fear of “I can’t do that, I’ll die.” To put it bluntly, sometimes it’s nice to
have something to focus on for half an hour instead of letting my mind go
places it really shouldn’t. And Autumn, the trainer, is affable. I tend to cuss
at her a lot on Leg Day, but she doesn’t seem to mind. If you want the URL to my website, let me know. </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">So that’s
about it for now. Hugs and love.</span></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><br />
<br />
<img alt="post signature" class="centered" src="http://img715.imageshack.us/img715/5228/signature2g.jpg" />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04680615822666921191noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8701931726893364478.post-14107984189036512382016-03-11T14:40:00.000-08:002016-03-11T14:40:13.327-08:00Finally, we're moving forward!I finally have a date set for the transesophageal echocardiogram (TEE) and cardiac catheterization! <br />
<br />
March 22nd will be the "Day of Fun Times" and hopefully it won't be too much longer until we can all figure out what to do with this lil heart of mine. I'll go in for more blood work next week, but there shouldn't be issues based on the labs I had done just a few weeks ago. <br />
<br />
Here are some explanations of what each procedure entails, for those of you so inclined. Just click on the links!<br />
<br />
From the American Heart Association - <a href="http://www.heart.org/HEARTORG/Conditions/HeartAttack/SymptomsDiagnosisofHeartAttack/Transesophageal-Echocardiography-TEE_UCM_441655_Article.jsp#.VuNGMY-cFdg" target="_blank">Transesophageal echocardiogram</a><br />
<br />
From the American Heart Association - <a href="http://www.heart.org/HEARTORG/Conditions/HeartAttack/SymptomsDiagnosisofHeartAttack/Cardiac-Catheterization_UCM_451486_Article.jsp#.VuNITo-cFdg" target="_blank">Cardiac catheterization</a><br />
<br />
<img alt="post signature" class="centered" src="http://img715.imageshack.us/img715/5228/signature2g.jpg" />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04680615822666921191noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8701931726893364478.post-55647487690366584542016-03-09T21:15:00.000-08:002016-03-09T21:15:12.933-08:00Reality. And then some more reality.<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Hi!</span><br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">This has been a bit of a busy few days. Mom came down to
help me do some things around the house (she says she just loves me, but I know
she likes being a handywoman.) What I didn’t know, though, is that Mom is
awesome with a lot of things including electricity. Electricity scares the sh*t
out of me, and I was going to call an electrician to have them deal with
putting in new light fixtures. The flush mount lights that “came with the house”
were standard builder’s grade screw-in deals that took us about an hour to unscrew
the globes. The first time I really started to hate these lights was when I
went to replace burned out bulbs and just about came at the things with a
hammer to get rid of them once and for all. So, I ordered some awesome fixtures
and they sat in the garage for a few months. Until Mom came along, of course!
The woman is going to be 76 next week but she’ll face off with any DIY-er
anyday, I think. </span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DurrnUoVyKU/VuEBbUyfC7I/AAAAAAAABVs/2XHpPjmXiDw/s1600/th6BUKZ230.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DurrnUoVyKU/VuEBbUyfC7I/AAAAAAAABVs/2XHpPjmXiDw/s1600/th6BUKZ230.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Before: Not exact, but just as "OMG SO NOT ME!!!!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sTGV0lxw1EU/VuEBhJXFO3I/AAAAAAAABVw/DKSVhdE2A30/s1600/WP_20160308_018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sTGV0lxw1EU/VuEBhJXFO3I/AAAAAAAABVw/DKSVhdE2A30/s400/WP_20160308_018.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After: Ahhhhhh.... Definitely unique and ME!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Today, I went back and forth between my surgeon’s office and
my cardiologist’s office for awhile as it’s been a month since my surgery
consult appointment and my tests haven’t been scheduled yet. It turns out that
they don’t just want a regular echocardiogram, they want the full bore
transesophageal echocardiogram (more sedation, yay) and since I’m having a
cardiac cath, they want to do it all at the same time. Which means they have to
have all of that approved with my insurance AND try to schedule two very busy
physicians at the same time in the same place. Good times. I should hear
tomorrow when they have a date for me. Might as well have both ends probed at
the same time. My poor body. </span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HawgYLPebQU/VuEBhjh4rII/AAAAAAAABV8/Pvsl80mwuk0/s1600/WP_20160309_001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HawgYLPebQU/VuEBhjh4rII/AAAAAAAABV8/Pvsl80mwuk0/s320/WP_20160309_001.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just in case you're wondering what's going on right now....</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’ve been trying to eat better, I think I mentioned this
awhile back… I’m on a lower carbohydrate deal which really hasn’t been too bad.
I don’t crave things like white rice and white breads like I used to. I’ve been
able to lose a little bit of weight but it’s not just dropping off me like
crazy, and that’s okay. I’ve been eating more eggs (my cholesterol is super)
and have been trying new things. Hardboiling eggs was never my specialty, but I
finally figured out the secret and they’re almost my “I NEED THIS” food now.
The good thing is, they take forever to make, so I can’t just scarf them down.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PhBPt8VI1pM/VuEBhBQ0PfI/AAAAAAAABWA/K9lW0lPW9v8/s1600/WP_20160229_001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PhBPt8VI1pM/VuEBhBQ0PfI/AAAAAAAABWA/K9lW0lPW9v8/s320/WP_20160229_001.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And now I'm really craving deviled eggs.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Then this happened earlier this week…. Serves me right for
not rinsing every drop of dish soap off of the dishes before I loaded them into
the dishwasher. I ran out of salt and towels dealing with this, but everything
is right in the world, and the poor dishwasher received a good amount of
berating in colorful language. </span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-R0bPnC1_a8w/VuEBhI_I2WI/AAAAAAAABWA/8ALVPoIXLOY/s1600/WP_20160301_009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-R0bPnC1_a8w/VuEBhI_I2WI/AAAAAAAABWA/8ALVPoIXLOY/s400/WP_20160301_009.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">But check out the cabinet handles! Mom and I rule again!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">That’s about it for now. I hope you all are well. </span></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><br />
<img alt="post signature" class="centered" src="http://img715.imageshack.us/img715/5228/signature2g.jpg" />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04680615822666921191noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8701931726893364478.post-50032113450218232582016-03-05T17:30:00.000-08:002016-03-05T17:30:30.431-08:00An update on nothing, really
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I was asked
today if I’m okay because I haven’t put a blog up in awhile, and the last one
that was up was a bit dark (okay, a lot dark.) I’m fine. </span><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I’m still in
the waiting game with things and Monday I will be calling the surgeon’s office
to make sure that they didn’t forget about submitting my info to the
interventional cardiologist, so I can be scheduled for this cardiac catheterization
and at least get something the hell over with. </span><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">It’s
supposed to rain tomorrow and Monday which will be good for my soul. Rainstorms
always help clear out the clouds and other assembled crap in my brain, and I
wish there were more of them here in “sunny” San Diego.</span><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Right now my
Roomba is making awful noises as it tries to climb into my cats’ water bowl. </span><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I’m
finishing up another class for my Master’s degree. After this is over, I’ll
have two classes left, including the post-practicum class to make sure that I
covered everything in my capstone project that I was supposed to. This is the
main stressor in my life at this point, as I haven’t been able to really work
on this project due to a million things. While I could have done some work on
it (I admit it), I am now stuck with the prospect of not being able to drive as
well as not being able to fully integrate the project into my work environment.
Being on oxygen 24/7 really does tend to cramp a girl’s style.</span><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The Roomba
has settled down and has decided that carpet is much easier on the ol’ wheels
than a lumpy water fountain base. As my mom would say, “Good boy.”</span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QdXzKO6JNRU/VtuH1wX6itI/AAAAAAAABVU/Cic3fm4wfFI/s1600/WP_20160305_005%2B%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QdXzKO6JNRU/VtuH1wX6itI/AAAAAAAABVU/Cic3fm4wfFI/s320/WP_20160305_005%2B%25282%2529.jpg" width="270" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">His name is Robbie.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Today I
actually put all of my laundry away. I emptied the dishwasher. Little things
like that make my head feel clearer and make me wish that I had done it several
days ago. I still have several emails to write and go through, yet I feel as if
I’ve made some progress today. Tonight I plan on watching “The Visit” on demand
and enjoying some form of dinner. Perhaps I’ll have a glass of wine with it, as
I haven’t had one in forever and it won’t be battling against a huge loading
dose of metoprolol. Don’t worry, I’ll be careful. (Mom. Ahem.)</span><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Speaking of
Mom, she’s coming over for a couple of days next week. I’m looking forward to
this as it does tend to get lonely here and we have a good time together. I’m
super grateful for my friends who have popped by or texted or called, and want
to send all of you some cuddles for that. My bud Christine will hopefully be
coming over for dinner on Tuesday if she survives her shift. I’m sure she will,
she’s a hell of a nurse. </span><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">All is well,
friends. It’s one more day under my oxygenated belt. </span></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><br />
<br />
<img alt="post signature" class="centered" src="http://img715.imageshack.us/img715/5228/signature2g.jpg" />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04680615822666921191noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8701931726893364478.post-44705171516201877892016-02-29T13:52:00.000-08:002016-02-29T13:52:09.983-08:00"First in, last out." [Trigger warning]I was reading about Cheryl Tiegs and her comments about a woman who was modeling a bathing suit on Sports Illustrated. Something about a small waist means health. It was posted on Facebook by a few friends of mine as well, and was greatly upsetting to several woman that responded, including myself. While she has evidently since apologized, it stuck with me for awhile that a smaller waist does not necessarily mean good health.<br />
<br />
I have fought my battles with anorexia and bulimia, ending up in a category called EDNOS (eating disorder not otherwise specified). I went through therapy and came out clean on the other side, but I will admit that there will be fleeting moments where I will think how easy it would be just not to eat, or feel that I ate too much and I could fix that easily (which is how I fell into bulimia in the first place). But I also remember the extreme loathing and hatred I had of myself, and the hospital trip when I had to admit to the nurse, in front of my mother, that I had a history of eating disorders. <br />
<br />
I wrote this to share with you the agony of what a smaller waist might mean to someone who is struggling with an eating disorder. <br />
<br />
***************************************<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Estrangelo Edessa"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">It could be just one moment, one word, one sentence, to
set you off.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Estrangelo Edessa"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">Thinking, knowing, understanding, that you have upset
someone which in turn upsets you which in turn upsets someone else.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Estrangelo Edessa"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">You feel like a right asshole now, don’t you? A failure.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Estrangelo Edessa"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">Yes, you’re a failure. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Estrangelo Edessa"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">You. Are. A. Failure. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Estrangelo Edessa"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">The tears become unstoppable, the pain wells up. You know
that pain, you remember that pain. It’s a weird, achy, full but hollow pain. It’s
everywhere. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Estrangelo Edessa"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">You feel it spreading everywhere.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Estrangelo Edessa"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">Your hair hurts.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Estrangelo Edessa"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">“Fucking cunt.” You mouth at yourself in the mirror, eyes
dark with rage.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Estrangelo Edessa"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">Self-loathing. Oh, the self-loathing is surrounding you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Estrangelo Edessa"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">In you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Estrangelo Edessa"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">You reach for things that may quash that loathing
temporarily, shove it down into the pit of your stomach. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Estrangelo Edessa"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">Bread and butter and sugar and pizza and grease and
alcohol to wash it all down with. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Estrangelo Edessa"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">Lots of alcohol because you know what’s coming next, don’t
you, and the buzz will make it hurt just a little bit less.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Estrangelo Edessa"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">In the midst of chewing, butter dripping down your chin,
you slap yourself in the face as hard as you can.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Estrangelo Edessa"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">Relish that pain. Feel how it spreads out and sharpens the
hatred you have of yourself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Estrangelo Edessa"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">You remember the days where you lived on coffee and
cigarettes and maybe half a bagel torn up into little bits so you could savor
it longer. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Estrangelo Edessa"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">You remember how it felt to be asked when you had the baby
because you looked so great. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Estrangelo Edessa"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">You were never pregnant.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Estrangelo Edessa"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">The collarbones were glorious.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Estrangelo Edessa"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">It was so much easier just not eating. Just not anything.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Estrangelo Edessa"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">You finish the fifth, eighth, tenth, you’ve lost count,
piece of bread and the hundredth swallow of whatever is was you poured in that
glass.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Estrangelo Edessa"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">Swipe the butter off your face as you walk into the
bathroom and close the door.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Estrangelo Edessa"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">Glare at yourself in the mirror.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Estrangelo Edessa"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">Slap the other cheek. Do it again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Estrangelo Edessa"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">Vomit gloriously until your abdominal muscles cramp up and
it feels like you are coughing up your toes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Estrangelo Edessa"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">“First in, last out.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Estrangelo Edessa"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">Do it one more time. Retch until that pain that you’ve
been harboring all night has settled into a pool of bile.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Estrangelo Edessa"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">Wipe off your face. Rinse your mouth.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Estrangelo Edessa"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">You’re not allowed to feel anything anymore tonight. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<img alt="post signature" class="centered" src="http://img715.imageshack.us/img715/5228/signature2g.jpg" />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04680615822666921191noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8701931726893364478.post-68729629653713119572016-02-23T17:57:00.005-08:002016-02-23T17:57:59.986-08:00100 Word Challenge - "Paper"
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><em><strong>Damned ludicrous, I think, staring at the elevation of
paperwork. Fill-in-the-blank, please, while you’re undergoing enough drama
already, now you worry about using the correct color ink and coloring in the
bubble completely. <o:p></o:p></strong></em></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><em><strong>
</strong></em></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><em><strong>The struggle to find the right envelope with its cyclops return
address window.<o:p></o:p></strong></em></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><em><strong>
</strong></em></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><em><strong>Don’t even look to see if the physician fulfilled the requirements,
mail it in, mail it in. Deadlines loom for each of the three forms, or four, I’ve
lost count…<o:p></o:p></strong></em></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><em><strong>
</strong></em></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><em><strong>Waiting now, for a letter or e-mail to ensure some sort of
monetary promise in order to pay the mortgage on my new home.<o:p></o:p></strong></em></span></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<img alt="post signature" class="centered" src="http://img715.imageshack.us/img715/5228/signature2g.jpg" />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04680615822666921191noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8701931726893364478.post-79102656639986518102016-02-22T18:54:00.001-08:002016-02-22T18:54:40.640-08:00Sunbeams
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’ve had my
issues with depression creeping in, making me feel like all I want to do is
sleep. Sitting here waiting, attached to my house via a 50-foot plastic leash
blowing oxygen up my nose at two liters per minute, is not something I
envisioned for myself at 41. I get frustrated easily, to the point of wanting
to throw something or scream profanity, and have found my mental clarity
diminished. It’s not at the point where I need or even want to take medication,
because I still find enjoyment in my days. </span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Today I had
lunch with another nurse friend who I hadn’t seen in over two months since I
went on leave. She brought her little dog with her and we went to a local
Vietnamese restaurant which has become our usual spot. Usually we go there to
relax after crazy days at work, and this time we laughed about the fact that we
were just there to enjoy, not to destress. We had fried calamari and shrimp
paste spring rolls (they were as funky as they sound), and boba teas which were
refreshing on a beautiful sunny and breezy day. </span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I had a
million blood tests run last week, and it was found that my Vitamin D levels
were about 15, when normal levels are 30-100. I rationalized that I have been
inside for the majority of the past several months, with two straight weeks
spent in a hospital room. Today was the first day that I’ve sat in the sun and
wow, was it glorious. I almost immediately turned pink, thanks to that
wonderful Irish-Great Britain genepool, but it was wonderful. I came home
afterwards and went straight out onto the balcony to sit in the sun some more.
Interestingly, I felt better within a few minutes of being in the sun today. </span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’ve started
taking Vitamin D supplements upon the advice of my physician, but just being
outside is definitely more healing in more ways than one. I believe that this
funk may be partially attributed to the inside lifestyle I’ve been leading.
Staying inside is just going to make it worse. My plastic leash reaches out to
the balcony with miles to spare, so I plan on making a date with myself to sit
out in the afternoon sun and breeze and enjoy. I have one of those recliners
that I bought on sale (and with a coupon!) at Bed, Bath, & Beyond, and I
have a little table out on the balcony. My cat, Bandit, joined me for a while
and sat contently in my lap watching the birds in the tree right outside. There
was the normal noise of people coming home from work, but no loud noises at
all. The hum from the street across the canyon was actually relaxing, like
white noise. I brought my glass of water and some cantaloupe out with me, and
simply <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">was.</i> </span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></o:p></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My dad and
every cat I know enjoy a good sunbeam. I need to listen to them more.</span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Even though
I’m by myself a lot, I have decided to make dates with myself on a more
frequent basis. I’m blogging or writing or doing a bit of cleaning here and
there, but I don’t just spend quality time with me. Watching bad daytime
television doesn’t count. Today, while I was with my cat on the balcony, I was
able to let my thoughts wander where they wanted to, and feel my skin warmed
with sunlight. I haven’t reconnected with nature in a very long time, I
realized. I don’t know how many oxygen tanks I would need for that, but I do
know that, as soon as I possibly can, I’m going to get back into the trees away
from electronics and life’s daily drivel.</span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">With that, I
appreciate all of you who have kept me chipper and listened to me rant and
dragged me outside of my abode for meals and camaraderie. Thank you. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04680615822666921191noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8701931726893364478.post-80011525667747327142016-02-20T09:00:00.000-08:002016-02-20T09:00:16.655-08:00Mutant PlantainI don't know if I've never noticed these things before or else I've come to notice them now as partners in my #SuperMutantNurse life. I saw this guy hanging out in Sprouts yesterday and wanted to document him for posterity. He's pretty buff, huh?<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AwY0g5JBAgA/VsflljtsKOI/AAAAAAAABRM/dvMtOLDFLw0/s1600/WP_20160219_002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AwY0g5JBAgA/VsflljtsKOI/AAAAAAAABRM/dvMtOLDFLw0/s400/WP_20160219_002.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04680615822666921191noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8701931726893364478.post-44021264871981442602016-02-19T14:32:00.001-08:002016-02-19T14:33:06.951-08:00Healthcare Weirdness - A Rant<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I know I’ve waxed poetic about the status of healthcare here
in the United States, however I was reminded of how lucky we are here in this country.
As many problems as we have, what I heard today was indicative of the
differences in other countries.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I was having breakfast with a friend, and she was telling me
about some experiences that family and friends had in Canada. Imagine having a
TIA, known as a mini-stroke, and being sent home from the hospital with orders
to follow up with your general physician. No aspirin or blood thinning
medication or consult to neurologists, just “follow up with your doctor in a
few weeks.” My hospital would scan your head and run extensive testing, if not
sending you immediately to have a procedure to clear up the blockage. Then you’d
be an inpatient on a stroke floor. Hell, I’m on prophylactic medication twice a
day to help prevent a problem.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">My friend’s mom also went into the emergency room (in Canada) for rapid
atrial fibrillation. This means that the upper chambers of her heart were not
beating properly, which can cause clots to form in the heart. The heart also
works harder and doesn’t push the blood around as it should. Her mother was
discharged on one medication without any further admission or cardiology
consults. Instead, there were orders to follow up with a cardiologist in a few
months. My hospital would admit someone with rapid a-fib to at least a telemetry
unit to have their heart monitored, if not right into the intensive care unit
on cardiac drips (IV medications). Instead, my friend’s mom was shown the door.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Surgeries in Canada evidently take months to schedule, and simply seeing
a physician often means lengthy waits which lead to poorer outcomes. I know
that we have patients in the U.S. who refuse to come in until things are literally falling
off of them, because they don’t want to halt their lives or admit that they
haven’t watched their health. It’s sad, isn’t it? While I’m sitting here
waiting for my insurance to clear all of the tests and procedures that I need,
I know it will happen in a few weeks if not days. I was shocked to hear what I was hearing.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Waiting is hard, especially when you don’t feel well or want
to return to your lifestyle. We need to have a look to see what is really going
on in our healthcare systems. Our people in this world are becoming more and
more unhealthy, even if they try to change their eating habits or ramp up the
exercise. There are limited physicians and even less nurse practitioners able
to practice independently. Our world is consumed with charting and such a fear of
legal ramifications that we can’t treat people, and we sure don’t have much
time to give them preventative education! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I’d like to hear from anyone in countries outside of the
United States, and even those of you in the U.S. What have you seen that you
believe hampers the people’s wellness? What have you seen that has impressed
you about your healthcare system?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04680615822666921191noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8701931726893364478.post-32596048176683075022016-02-16T02:41:00.001-08:002016-02-16T02:41:21.494-08:00Insomnia is such a pretty word<div><br></div>Here we are again, at 2:08 in the morning. I'm grateful for the Bluetooth keyboard I have on this iPad because I wasn't in the mood to fire up the ol' dinosaur of a laptop. The only issue with this thing is that the backspace key is about four millimeters wide and my fingernails are too long. So I'm typing a lot of "====" and then have to squint at the keyboard. But it's a neat little thing so I shouldn't complain.<div><br></div><div>I've already read through more than half of my friend Dustin's new book, "And the Devil Shivered." It's nestled on my Kindle between another friend Kelly's book of poems "My Own Kind of Beautiful" and "See You in the CCU," a tale by Steve Ludwig about his experience with open heart surgery. I also have 50 Shades of Grey on there, as well as three or four books on the Mediterranean diet, so my reading tastes are pretty eclectic. </div><div><br></div><div>I've set aside Dustin's book for now as I've found myself squawking with laughter in between tearing up with heartfelt emotion - I'm so glad he opened himself up to us by writing every day. He's a treasure and I encourage anyone and everyone to get his book. And Kelly's, too. Her poems will grab you... For me, I immediately felt as if she was a kindred spirit speaking to me directly in her poems about infertility. Both of these fine people I've met through Twitter; I had the fortune to meet Dustin a few years ago during a trip to the beautiful Stanley Hotel in Estes Park, Colorado. You may recognize it from "The Shining" which is a terrifying novel by Stephen King made into a movie. In the novel/movie, it was referred to as The Overlook, however Mr. King was inspired by the Stanley during a stay there. I really have gone off on a tangent, there. Twitter has brought a lot of really good people into my life, and I'm very grateful for all of them. We're spread all over the country and the world, and sometimes it feels as if they're right there in the room with me, especially when I really need a friend. What blessings.</div><div><br></div><div>I don't know about you all, but I really enjoy watching infomercials at night. There's something soothing about watching women drag a heated brush through their hair, or watching a miracle vacuum lift a bowling ball into a tube of feathers. I was stuck on this one commercial for IT Cosmetics Bye-Bye Foundation so ended up buying a set to try. I'm pretty happy with it. I have thin dark skin under my eyes and this stuff works well to hide the appearance of chronic insomnia. The mascara in the set makes my scraggly eyelashes appear to be even scragglier, however I also invested in Younique fiber lashes and they're fantastic for making me look like I have lashes at all.</div><div><br></div><div>Here's this lady on the television who must be wearing about seventy pounds of diamond jewelry. How is that comfortable at all? I don't like wearing much jewelry, maybe some small earrings or a necklace that belonged to my sister. I will be writing about her soon... I've been missing her a lot lately and it's comforting to me to wear her jewelry or something else that belonged to her. Right now it's a pair of Halloween pajama pants with sock monkeys on them. </div><div><br></div><div>The other day when I was at my folks' house, my Dad and I noticed that a pair of doves had relocated to one of the planters on my parents' back patio. Usually this upsets the parents due to the amount of "splatter" residue left on the sliding door, but this planter was more off to the side. I peeked into the plant and saw that Mama and Papa Dove had already made quite an establishment within the planter, so set big brown puppy dog eyes on my Dad and asked him if we could leave the nest in. Yes, even though I'm 41 years old, the ol' eyes still have it. Dad relented and now the folks have Mama and Papa Dove happily nested in a geranium outside the window. Today I heard Papa Dove cooing loudly, and looked outside to see him standing proudly on the edge of the patio cover while Mama Dove was comfy in her nest. It was really a beautiful sight and one I was grateful to witness. Remember when I talked about the little things a few days ago? That's one of the little things.</div><div><br></div><div>I've been thinking a lot about writing a book. I really don't know what the subject matter would be; maybe there wouldn't be subject matter. I love writing short stories based off of prompts, and writing my dreams and whatever the hell may be going through my mind, as obviously evidenced by this ridiculous blog post. I imagine the insomnia will be a "thing" every once in awhile and I might as well make use of that time. I'm not a parent and I don't know about how great my self-help jive is, so if you all had any ideas, toss them my way. I usually get great ideas from readers and friends, and am happy to oblige opinions. </div><div><br></div><div>Until next time, readers... For now, I'm going to readjust the oxygen tubing so I don't strangle myself, and try to get some sleep in before my doc appointment tomorrow. I hope you all have a great Tuesday. Stay out of trouble, and stay away from pre-verts. :-)</div><div><br></div><div>#LoveAndLight</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-alK6Y96qfgI/VsL80G1OozI/AAAAAAAABQ0/L2QVQ7ww2UU/s640/blogger-image-1762355105.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-alK6Y96qfgI/VsL80G1OozI/AAAAAAAABQ0/L2QVQ7ww2UU/s640/blogger-image-1762355105.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">(One of those coloring book apps... Also good for wasting time.)</div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04680615822666921191noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8701931726893364478.post-8485666144050893802016-02-12T11:00:00.000-08:002016-02-12T11:00:16.621-08:00Eggless Mocha Almond Cookies <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<![endif]-->
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I love
baking, especially biscotti. My dad is a huge fan of my biscotti, so I wanted
to make him some today. It was going great until I figured out that I had no
eggs in the house, and none of the <a href="http://www.egglesscooking.com/egg-substitutes/" target="_blank">usual substitutions. </a></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Well, crap.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I decided to
wing it, and threw a bunch of stuff into my <a href="http://www.amazon.com/KitchenAid-KV25GOXER-Professional-5-Quart-Empire/dp/B0001HLTSE/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1455262233&sr=8-2&keywords=kitchenaid+5+qt" target="_blank">KitchenAid stand mixer</a><b> </b>(I love this
thing, so so much.) The cookies turned out great, and I wanted to get the
recipe down, as much as I can remember anyways. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<u><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Mocha Almond
Cookies (Eggless)</span></u></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">2 cups white
all-purpose flour</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">¾ cup white
sugar</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">1 stick softened
butter (I used salted, as I always do)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">6
tablespoons brewed coffee (thank you, <a href="http://www.keurig.com/Brewers/Home/Keurig%C2%AE-K10-MINI-Plus-Brewing-System/p/Mini-Plus-Personal-Brewing-System" target="_blank">Keurig</a>)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">¼ teaspoon
baking soda</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">1 ½ teaspoons
baking powder</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">1 teaspoon
vanilla</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">¾ cup
slivered almonds</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">½ cup
semi-sweet chocolate chips</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">1 tablespoon
instant coffee granules</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: "symbol"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Preheat your oven to 350 degrees.<span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "symbol"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">In
a bowl, or stand mixer, mix together butter and sugar until it’s fluffy. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "symbol"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"></span></span></span><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Add
in instant coffee and stir until evenly mixed</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "symbol"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"></span></span></span><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Add
vanilla, baking soda, and baking powder – mix for several seconds until
combined</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "symbol"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"></span></span></span><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Add
flour and mix </span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Add
in brewed coffee one tablespoon at a time until the dough starts to stick
together. This was about 6 tablespoons for me. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Add
chocolate chips and almonds and combine until you don’t have a pile of either
on the bottom of the bowl (you know what I mean.)</span></li>
<li>
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Use a small
ice cream or melon ball scoop (or two spoons, or your hands) to make even
cookies. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Bake at 350 for about 12 minutes. The cookies will be ridiculously
squishy at first, but let them sit for about 20 minutes and they will firm up.
They’ll still be nice and soft in the center. Dad described it as “fluffy.” So
good!</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">This recipe yielded about 20 medium-sized cookies. </span><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"></span><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span><br /><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"></span></li>
</ul>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P5m_CoxqFx0/Vr2MQam6rnI/AAAAAAAABQY/doB3uFYSp2E/s1600/WP_20160211_007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="293" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P5m_CoxqFx0/Vr2MQam6rnI/AAAAAAAABQY/doB3uFYSp2E/s400/WP_20160211_007.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Om nom nom....</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><a href="http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/giada-de-laurentiis/holiday-biscotti-recipe2.html" target="_blank">Here is the biscotti recipe</a><b> </b>from Giada that I've modified to my heart's content, just in case you were interested. :-) </span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04680615822666921191noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8701931726893364478.post-30094008677819393342016-02-11T18:18:00.000-08:002016-02-11T18:18:08.377-08:00The Little Things
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It’s the
little things.</span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Today I
received a call from my physician’s office telling me that my doc wasn’t able
to log onto the state disability site due to some hang up at his old practice,
and I would have to bring in a disability form to the office. I called the disability office for a form and was hung up on twice, told that there were too many people on hold <em>then </em>was hung up on, then I was put on hold for an suggested time of "10 minutes." I was unable to
print out the form online as it’s an “order only” thing (too many forgeries?)
so I decided to go down to the disability office and ask for a form. I know
this is a “little thing” that is basically inconvenient, however it also
involves my mom as she has to schlepp me everywhere, plus the idea that I’d be
in a line for hours and I only had two hours left on my oxygen tank. While I
probably wouldn’t have negative health ramifications, it’s still a thought that
the migraines would come back, or I’d pass out, etc. So, off we went. (Also, it's more of a delay for disability and just an added bummer that may affect my claim.) Needless to say, my day had started off way on the wrong foot and my mood was darkened.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span> </div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Remember what I wrote awhile back about the volatility of my emotional state? Yeah, that. I had a really wonderful day yesterday - had lunch with "my girls" and it was fabulous. Today? It turns out I just needed some boosting. And/or a kick in the ass.</span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We found a
parking spot right outside the front door of the building. </span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">There were
only four clients in the disability office. Three of them engaged me in
conversation as soon as I walked in the door, after I spotted forms along a
back wall. They were exceptionally helpful in their commentary about how to
fill out the form, what do to afterwards, etc. One gentleman told me, smiling,
that he was in remission from cancer. As an oncology nurse, I know what this
means for a patient, and I was genuine in my congratulations to him and his
son. They inquired after my oxygen tank, and I told them that I was expecting a
heart procedure of some kind in the near future. They wished me the best and I
was out the door in five minutes. What kind gentlemen, and I hope for the best
for all of them. It definitely assisted in burning off the frustration I felt
this morning.</span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">At the
physician’s office, I quickly retrieved the completed forms and dropped off the
state disability form for my physician. There was no wait for that.</span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I easily
transferred a prescription from one pharmacy to another which was within the
physician’s office, and picked that up as well in just a few minutes. The staff
was pleasant and there were no hang-ups with the new order. </span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Pulling into
my community, the sun was shining and the trees looked greener than ever. It
was quiet enough to hear birds chirping from all over the complex. One of my
cats shadowed me everywhere I went in my home. I was halfway through a cookie
recipe before I discovered that I was out of eggs… I improvised and the cookies
turned out great (mocha chocolate chip, if you’re wondering.) </span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">There was no
traffic, no idiot drivers, and my oxygen was still plentiful at the end of the
journey. </span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Now I’m
sitting here with a boba tea, with the house smelling like lasagna. A furball
is rambling around the house looking for trouble, but I know he’ll be cute even
if he does get into trouble.</span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It really is
the little things. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-McP7DQQSqig/Vr0_OWkC3bI/AAAAAAAABQA/vbxbcktSxkA/s1600/12670311_10208604677217297_3245346960205466949_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-McP7DQQSqig/Vr0_OWkC3bI/AAAAAAAABQA/vbxbcktSxkA/s320/12670311_10208604677217297_3245346960205466949_n.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This kiddo is pretty awesome. Even if she sheds all over the place.<br />
(I'm talking about the cat.)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;"><em>"Sometimes when I consider what tremendous consequences come from little things, I am tempted to think there are no little things." ~ Bruce Barton</em></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04680615822666921191noreply@blogger.com1