Take Care...Or THEY Will!!

So....I work at a hospital.  As you know.  I am a nurse's aid, which means I do a lot of the dirty work.  I wanted to go ahead and take the time (in a very short blog to jump start things) to let people know to be nice to their children.  Really.  Be nice.  Be really, really nice.  They will be the ones who will decide which nursing home you will live in when the time comes that you can no longer take care of yourself (I saw something like this in a quote once, it's not totally stolen, but that's where I got the idea.  I cannot remember where the quote came from though).

There are good nursing homes....there are decent nursing homes...there are bad nursing homes...there are REALLY bad nursing homes...then there are the nursing homes where you send your parents who were evil and mean to you.  There are NO great nursing homes.  Know this now.  Please take my advice, and be nice to your children.  Be kind.  Love them, and perhaps you will get to live with them.  Perhaps they will change your diaper instead of some stranger who's just doing a job.  It could save you a bedsore or twelve!  Trust me, these things ain't pretty!

On a side note, take care of yourself!! Then, if you are a jerk to your kids, at least it will take a longer time until you have to be put in a home, or perhaps not at all!  I have seen some, not a lot, but some, 90+ old people still living at home by themselves.  They are few and far between, and they aren't able to do that because they smoked a pack a day and called a good night a package of oreos in front of twelve re-runs of bad sitcoms!  The more you damage your body now, the more you will pay for it in the long run.

Take it to heart.  I would hate to see any of you who are so graciously reading my blog wind up in one of these horrid places I have seen old folks come from.  They come from the nursing homes all the time to the hospital, and you can pretty much tell which nursing home they came from based on the condition they are in, physically!  And on how they smell!  No joke!  We do the best we can for them at the hospital, but then we have to send them back.  So take care of your body, take care of and love your kids, or you'll be sitting in a s*&#@y diaper for five hours with the waste eating away at your fragile sensitive skin before someone comes to change your butt!

Loose Dogs!

Nothing inspires terror in my heart faster than a dog running loose.  I believe that in a past life, I was once hunted down by dogs.  They chased me relentlessly as I tore through fields and woods, fearing for my life, very Willow-esque.  Their angry barks and snarls flew through the air, precursors to the pain I would soon feel as their long, sharp teeth tore through my skin and ripped off pieces of my flesh, eating me alive.  I just know that this is why the sight of a loose dog sends me into a panic.

 I have been lucky lately that during my runs, I rarely encounter dogs running loose.  Perhaps this is why I continue to run the same, safe routes, although my mind aches for new scenery.  It’s difficult to break down and take the risk of running down new streets knowing that there will come a time when I will encounter a dog.  He will bark, he will growl.  He may (probably) chase me.  If the stars align correctly, he will attack my leg or arm or whichever limb is flying freely most closely to his face.  I will scream.  Help will not be near.  It will be a battle between me and the dog.  Please, I beg whoever is in charge of letting these kinds of things happen, don’t let it be a pit bull. 

 Why do dogs feel the need to chase, anyway?  This I just don’t understand.  What do you want from me?  I’m not bothering you.  I’m not running on your property.  Why must you terrorize me?  I actually did run into a dog on my run not long ago.  It was a new route (see!  I tried a new route and what do I get!? A heart attack!) down a long and twisty country road.  Beautiful scenery, but about halfway through the loop, I see a creature out of the corner of my eye.  He is probably at least two hundred feet away, but he sees me too.  I know not to look at him.  I know to mind my own business and pretend he doesn’t exist.  For a few minutes I think I’m in the clear.  Just when I start to breathe easier, an eruption of barks and snarls tears through my sunny day, sending me on high alert.  My heart rate doubles and my body instantly goes into fight or flight mode.  The dog flies by behind me, barking and growling the whole time, so close he creates a breeze as he passes within inches of my calves.  I hear him gallop loudly as he quickly does a 180.  I know he’s turning around to attack this time.  I think my heart will explode, and still I do not look at him.  He’s too big to simply kick in the face as I imagine doing to any dog shorter than my knee who tries to bug me.  I think he’s a golden retriever but my eyes have been trained so decidedly on the road I can’t be sure. 

 By some miracle he no longer pursues me.  The panting subsides.  Perhaps he grew tired, and didn’t want to bother with the chase.  Perhaps he’d just eaten a large meal of kibble and shoelaces from other runners he’s taken down.  Or perhaps, and I feel that this is the most likely explanation, he was simply doing his duty by pretending he was ready to eat me and making me pee my pants.  He got his runner for the day.  Inspiring fear in runners is his God-given dog-duty.  A+, buddy, now I have to run three miles home with wet shorts.    

             

 On the bright side, I subconsciously sped up the rest of the run back, dropping an average of fifteen seconds per mile and giving me a PR on that 7 mile route.  However, I’m not sure if it was worth it.  I haven’t run that road since that day, and there's not a golden retriever out there (who’s safely corralled behind a sturdy fence) who doesn't get the stink eye from me.  

2012, the year of "What the *#%@!!"

Well, that last blog was a curse, because as you know, I haven't posted anything since then.  It's been a very strange few weeks.  2012 is starting out with a bang, and not the right kind.

I left Utah feeling very sad that we had missed our only opportunity since we were children to have a family picture taken together - I mean the whole family.  My mom and dad and all us kids and all the grandkids and all the spouses were all together...and yet we didn't have that photo taken.  That chance probably won't come again - everyone lives so far away...until...well, hopefully it comes before someone passes away.  As I've experienced both personally and through others, life will throw you a curve when you least expect it.

They say that death comes in 3's and 7's.  I am not sure if that is true, but I have heard of a lot of people passing away lately.  A girl at work lost her mother in law, another girl at work lost her uncle and grandfather, another girl at work lost her mother, a girl from my old job lost her mother, and then the most significant loss for myself was of a long-time friend and old boyfriend, Andrew.  He was someone I wanted to marry at one time and who wanted to marry me.  That makes six.  I hope that I have forgotten one somewhere, only because I don't want to hear about anymore for a while.  It's too sad...I was, and still am, so shocked about my friend.


We haven't seen each other or spoken in a very long time, but we still considered each other good, trusted friends.  We sent messages on facebook occasionally.  His last messages to me were on Christmas Eve and Christmas day.  On Christmas Eve he said, "Merry Xmas Sweetie!! Hope you and Scarlett have a great holiday."  Christmas day he sent, ":)p."  I was out of town, and didn't send a message back until Dec. 27.  The accident was December 26.  He never received that message, but I have to believe that he knew I was thinking of him.

What's even worse is that he died at the hospital I work at.  Since I don't really know any of his friends very well, and am not their friends on facebook, I didn't even find out about any of it until January 5.  He died January 3 at my hospital, two floors below where I work.  Had I known, I could have seen him one last time. I could have let him know, for the last time ever, that I have always considered him to be a very special person, and that I was so glad to know him for the time that I did.  It relieves a little of the heartache to know that he will be in heaven one day when I go.

I only had one picture of him.  For some reason, when I went to get it out of my photo album, it's missing.  I am not sure if a jealous ex took it out one time or what...but now I have none, except the pictures on facebook and the memorial flyer.  Scarlett and I do still have the teddy bear that he brought to the hospital for her the day she was born.  And I will always have that smile, that laugh, living in my memory to call upon whenever I want.  He will be missed forever, as he watches over us all from a better place.

I know that these challenges are given to us to help us learn to be better people.  I prayed last night that God would help me finally (even though I only found out about him last Thursday) wrap my head around the fact that he was gone and stop obsessing about it (I've been thinking and dreaming about him non-stop, it was such a shock to me).  I woke this morning still thinking of him, but I was at peace.  I know he's gone, I know it's okay.  I know he was meant to go when he did for a reason, and that reason isn't for me to know right now.

The rest of the year will surely be better.  It's been a strange start, but...I have hope.  "Dum spiro spero," or "While I Breathe, I hope."

http://obits.dignitymemorial.com/dignity-memorial/obituary-print.aspx?n=Andrew-Shoemaker&lc=2376&pid=155344235&mid=4947098

It's Still December

No, I haven't abandoned my blog...I have just been...wait for it...busy.  Yep, that's all.  Busy.  That's a lame excuse, I realize, but I am willing to rattle off my list of reasons for staying away from my young, needy blog. Here they are:
In December, I was:
1.  Trying to work as much as possible before leaving the state (to spend Christmas with my fam in  
      Utah).  Census is up and they are actually allowing some overtime!  Gotta get it while the getting is good!

2.  Finishing up Christmas stuff, which included making homemade goodies such as Cranberry-Orange
      cookies and homemade ornaments (for 15 people), and the traditional photo calendars for the
      grandparents.  I always have these grand ideas of making cute stuff and though they usually turn out well, I
      typically underestimate the time they will take by, oh, about a WEEK.

3.  Preparing for the week long trip to Utah, including trying to pack, clean like crazy, do all the laundry, get
     someone to watch my cats, wrap all the gifts and arrange for someone to put out milk, cookies, carrots
     and water for Santa and his reindeer.

4.  Helping my daughter through all her December activities, such as: many, many rehearsals for the church
     Christmas play, 6 performances taking up two entire weekends; her usual ballet and then the Girl Scout
     activities she had along with some cookie sales.  We also went to the dentist and tried to see Santa at
     Crown Center (one side of her mouth was numb though and she didn't want a pic with Santa where she
     didn't have a proper smile).  

5.  Then, while I was on vacation in Utah...hmmm.  What excuse do I have?  Besides the jet lag, weird and
     yucky feeling from the altitude difference, the nasty cold likely from a fellow airplane passenger, numerous
     family activities and events including meeting the two newest members, Steven's wife Faridah and my
     other brother's new baby daughter, Olivia......I guess I don't have much of an excuse.  I took my laptop, I
     had excellent intentions, but...perhaps I watched too many episodes of The Vampire Diaries.

6.  Upon returning home, there's the usual laundry, return to work, unpacking and sorting of all the goodies
     my daughter and I brought home and seeing everyone we've missed while we were away.  Sigh!


I think that's all.  I feel better about letting my poor blog suffer...well, a little better.  I truly am mad at myself for only posting once this month.  So much has happened!

There's no time like New Year's Eve to renew my dedication to writing daily and posting a blog frequently!

Depression and the Death of Don Harman

Though I wasn't very familiar with Don Harman, the local weatherman in Kansas City for Fox News, the news of his death by suicide is still shocking and very, very saddening.

Don Harman, known for his outgoing personality and cheerful exterior, had apparently been struggling with depression for many years. What troubles me the most about the death of this man, who seemingly had everything from a fabulous career, friends aplenty, a wife and daughter, no doubt a lucrative income; is that if even he, at 41 years old and with all this going for him, couldn't kick his depression, what hope do others have?  He seemingly did everything right, sought treatment, filled his life with the stuff of dreams - - and it still consumed him.

For me, the worst part about this tragedy is that it further depresses and worries me about the nature of depression itself.  A lot.  That is something that I am familiar with and why this story touches close to my heart.  Despite all Mr. Harman's success, and all the things he did to try to control the disease, his depression evidently worsened over time instead of improving.  Is this something that others suffering can live to fear?  That despite everything we do, there is no escape?  I feel distress not only for myself, but for others out there like him, like me, who have to hide this, who have to wait until tomorrow or next week or even next year to maybe feel a little bit better.

I've always told myself it won't always be like this.  That one day, when I feel like my life is in order, it will slide way into the backseat and maybe even disappear.  The case of Don Harman shoves it right in my face and says, "Maybe it won't.  Maybe it will only get worse."

So then...what to do?

NaNoWriMo is drawing to a close....

As I near 50,000 words, I am not sure I will be able to stop.  First of all, though I will make 50,000 words today or tomorrow, my book will end up being longer.  This is a good thing, because I am sure it will need quite a bit of editing.  The NaNoWriMo website advises that after you finish your book, you leave it alone for a few weeks at the very least before you start the editing process.  I am scared...I will be the first to admit I didn't write anything close to the Great American Novel, but I think it is a solid first attempt.  People have been asking to read it...but that will make me so vulnerable.  They will judge me based on what I write...

When I tell someone about my book, they are all excited for me.  It is something that I have always dreamed of doing, but who knows if this book will ever be publishable (not that there aren't thousands of published books out there that suck more than mine).  Besides that, what if they hate it?  What if they start to read it and get bored?  What if they read it and say they love it, just to make me feel good (Mamma)?  What if they give me overly harsh  criticism (thinking of you, Rusty or Steven) and it's on a day when I am already slightly emotional?  I hope I don't get discouraged...

However, I already know what my next book will be.  Yep, not waiting until next November.  I desperately needed to come across NaNoWriMo to get me jump started, and now that I know writing a book is something I can do (it always seemed like such an enormously impossible and time consuming task) I think I am ready to write the book that I have been needing to for a long time.  The next one may be even less publishable, as I intend it to be a memoir and I'm not yet thirty years old.  Could I possibly write an engaging, entertaining memoir that connects with my audience at this age?  Well I don't know, but I'm going to write it anyway.

I am at 48,405 words.  I can't wait to send it in for validation, though I probably have 10,000 more words or so until it is finished.  By tomorrow I will be a NaNoWriMo Winner! ('Winning' only means you made it to 50,000 words by Nov. 30.)

Scream 4 in 10 Words

The beginning was slightly amusing.  

     The rest was really stupid.