Tell 'em that it's human nature

Yesterday I said to D that "Today was one of those days that made me happy I'm getting into nursing." She said, "Write that down!" I said, "No, you write it down!"

But I think that I should. So here goes:

In the past two days I've been on my labor and delivery rotation for clinicals. I expected it to be a little odd, but everything I've come across so far has been a little odd. In other words, everything is new. On Monday I was assigned to an expectant mother who had already dilated to 10 cm and was effaced 100%. She was ready to start pushing. So while she was pushing, I was holding one of her legs as the nurse I was assigned to follow coached her through the contractions. After two hours, a little head poked out and the doctor showed up and helped the baby and mom with the last few pushes and then everything was a blur. The baby came out and cried and the nursery nurses swept the baby up to the mom's side and the dad held the baby for what felt like a long time and then the baby got weighed and measured and graded and then the dad held him again while the doctor finished delivering the placenta with the mom. Then the new family clustered around the baby, who was now in the mom's arms, and my nurse showed me the parts of the placenta and I poked at it and examined it and then it was lunch time. (I realize now the timing of this seems odd, but I included the lunch part only to note the extremely fast passage of time, not that playing with a placenta made me hungry.)

Emotionally, it was amazing. I almost cried watching this father, who had been stoic for the pushing, break a teary smile as he held his son for the first time and I laughed inside at the sister, who was told to shut up by her pregnant sister while coaching during the pushing. I can't really explain it, but it was the first time I have thought during clinicals, "I could do this for a living."

Yesterday I saw a patient (or client, as some people would have them be called) have an emergency c-section and the precise movements and actions by everyone in the room made me proud to be a medical professional. The nurses were prepping and calling and setting aside supplies while the doctors were slicing and sewing while the respiratory techs were standing ready to treat the patient for any respiratory distress and and and. It was like being in the middle of a hive of ants, except instead of carrying food they were intent on saving two lives. Within one minute of slicing through this woman's skin, muscle, and uterus, the baby was delivered and was perfectly healthy. And the mother was fine too, after recovery.

Two hours later (after lunch, which again seems odd timing), the patient I was originally assigned started pushing. Again, I was bedside as the baby delivered and despite a couple of complications that developed, everyone there on behalf of the hospital quickly reacted and ensured that mother and child both left happy and healthy. It could have been a lot worse, but it wasn't, because everyone did their job. And it was amazing.

I told Rich that I liked it and he said that bordered on being creepy. Apparently I stumbled upon one of the few remaining bastions of prejudice towards males. Usually it is females who are subjected to workplace stereotypes, but after looking at a few forums online (and here, too), it would appear that male nurses working as labor and delivery nurses have to confront more stereotypes than females in the same position. It's not as though I am infatuated with the anatomy; I have just seen nurses actively changing lives and participating in one of the most profound events in a patient's life and then fade quietly into the background, only to do it again a few hours later. I don't know if I want to be an L&D nurse or it's just a phase (like that time I borrowed a keyboard so I could write and produce music with my laptop), but I do know that yesterday was a good day.

So I want to be a nurse.

Morning has broken

I have neglected this task much like Kidde Fire Extinguishers neglected to tell customers that occasionally their products failed to extinguish fires. But all of that is behind us now, and I'm pleased to announce that I'm in the writing mood.

First of all, we're pregnant. Only about 8 weeks now, so included is a gross approximation of what the most recent ultrasound looked like. It has been an odd experience. It was the first month we tried to get pregnant, and the first few days of Danielle peeing on sticks was a little surreal. She marched out of the bathroom one day, while I was still asleep, and said, "Does this look like a line to you? Or is it a shadow?" Being the eternal pessimist, I tried to convince her that not only was it too early to test, she was crazy. (Note to boys: Girls love being told they aren't being rational. They just eat it up!!!) So the next day, a similar thing happened, and after a couple more tests, the lines got more and more definitive. And eventually, the data overwhelmed my skepticism and we believed. A blood test confirmed it. And we tried a few more pee tests just for good measure.

How did I react? The revelation came over several days, so any excitement I had waxed and waned. But I am excited now. I spent the first few nights falling asleep thinking, "Well, everything is going to change now. Everything. Everything. Everything." And then I'd spend the daylight hours convincing myself that not everything would change. Repeat for a week and you'll have a rough idea of what it was like. So I for one am grateful that I have nine months to adjust to this.

We have a little calendar that tells us exactly on what day what forms in utero. Yesterday the heart was completed. The optic nerve and eyeball have started and I think the arms and legs start wiggling tomorrow. The tail is still present, and though I hope it goes away, I kind of hope it doesn't. There are so many things that can go wrong with fetal formation that that's the new thing that keeps me up at night. It doesn't help that I'm in my OB/GYN/PEDS rotation for clinical (nice segue, self).

Nursing school is good. It has been a challenge at some times but not as severe as Danielle's program. I guess that's a key difference between an AD program and an accelerated RN, BSN, FNP program. I really enjoy the clinical setting and the classroom setting has always been good place for me, so I feel good about the future.

Not much else is happening. A lot of waiting. Stephen and I are going to play Halo: ODST now.

...to find my mother in a garbage bin...

Enclosed please find the actual text of an email my dear mother sent unsolicited to "you kids." Phrases to look out for: "..actually smells better than it did," "Not sure how it will grow out," and "Love, Mom" (Again: No one requested this information.)

from: Linda Schoon (xxxxxxxxxx@gmail.com)

to: Michael (xxxxxxxxxx@gmail.com), Rebecca Bradley (xxxxxxxxxx@gmail.com), Stephen Schoon (xxxxxxxxxx@gmail.com), Danielle (xxxxxxxxxx@gmail.com), Adam Bradley (xxxxxxxxxx@gmail.com)

date: Tue, Jun 30 2009 at 5:26 pm

subject: thumb injury update - caution graphic materials

The nail came off yesterday and this is what was underneath. It actually smells better than it did the day before, but it looks pretty gross as you can see. Not sure how it will grow out.
Love,
Mom

We were merely freshmen...

The following is true.

On Wednesday I was walking the dogs along the canal and noticed a duckling swimming north up the canal. I didn't see any other ducks around and thought that was odd, but what're ya gonna do? About another mile up the canal, I see a group of ducks, including a female duck with six ducklings swimming behind her. I decided I was about done with my walk and walked south back, wondering if the lone duckling was closer now. He wasn't. He was in the same place he was before. I figured that I'd watch him awhile and see what he did. He kept going the direction of his mom and then turn around and go the other way. I determined to get the duck back to his mom, so I tied the dogs to a fence, took off my shirt, and tried to get close to the water. It took me 15 minutes to notice that this was going to be impossible, given the deep sides of the canal and the fact that I have terrible balance.

So I took the dogs back and grabbed, what else, a broom.

I drove back towards the canal and ran back to the spot I left the duckling. He was still there, and after some coaxing, I worked it towards a group of steps leading to the water. I scooped him up and grabbed him. Then I walked/jogged/looked ridiculous as I carried him the mile to where I had left his mother. Although now she was across the canal and I had no where to cross. Sigh. So I walked slowly, working her (and the six ducklings behind her) towards another one of those step thingies. Eventually, I got her there, placed her wayward duckling on the end of the broom, and flung the duckling toward her. One life saved.

Then I went for a walk on Saturday and saw the female duck with only two ducklings behind her. "Well," I reasoned, "it could have been just one."

Sunday I went for another walk and saw the female duck with just one duckling around her. "Well," I tried again, "it could have been zero."

Here's my point: I know that natural selection weeds out the weak (like the ones who get lost swimming ONE DIRECTION ON A 12 FOOT WIDE CANAL), but it still makes me feel sad. I want to use another word, but sad is all that works. And I also feel like I should have learned this lesson either a) when I was younger or b) when I watched the Andy Griffith episode where Opie kills a bird. But I didn't. And natural processes don't care that a) the ducklings died or b) that I have any feelings at all.

So I'll soldier on, but I have decided that I just shouldn't give a duck.

I walk it out, I walk it out...

Let me recreate the scene:

58 year old male (father-in-law) is recovering from brain surgery he had earlier this morning to remove a tumor from his temporal lobe. Me, my wife, and her brother all decide to hang out with him for a few hours this afternoon. Patient decides that he needs to walk around a little. After much maneuvering (with the IV pole, a gown that is ill-fitting, and his propensity for falling), we get to the end of the hallway that has a big picture window. Patient decides to "stretch a little." With his front to the window, he proceeds to put his left leg onto the hand rail, spreading the back of his gown wide open while he continues to stretch his leg. The nurses at the station shriek in disgust as the patient's open gown, coupled with lack of undergarments, display full anatomical features. I start giggling a little, my dear wife starts trying to pull her father's gown shut, and patient decides to fart. Three times. Loudly and without abandon. I start crying with laughter, the nurses retreat, my wife retreats, the patient continues stretching until he is satisfied, and we all work our way back to his room to continue the recovery process. All in all, a good day.

There'll be no argument, you can take it from me

It's warm enough I don't have to wear a shirt.

Good news and bad news:

Bad news first: The garage door opener broke and now I'm stuck trying to figure out if I want to fix it by buying a $25 replacement part or just using it manually. Like Mr. Hedberg said, "Escalator temporarily stairs. Sorry for the convenience."

Additional bad news: I think the weed killer I bought was improperly mixed (by me) so it didn't kill any weeds and instead made them hardier. One of them actually said, "Thanks for the drink, ya pansy" to me when I passed it this morning.

More bad news: My house still kind of smells like the turkey bacon I cooked two nights ago.

Good news: This post about the state of things made me smile. And I would have embedded it but the overlords of the internet disabled it.

Indifferent news: If you are in the east valley area and are having a yard/garage sale, THINK about your sign placement. Address is nice, directional arrow is better, bright color is assumed, but expecting me to wander around your neighborhood looking for your notecards taped on cacti is a little much. If I can't find your sign, how am I going to spend 50 cents for an additional charger for my laptop?

Also, if you are planning a sale, don't just pull out a chair for you to sit on and spill your trash can onto the driveway and call it good. No one wants your "Aloha, 1992" plastic visor set (of two). Or your toothbrush holder that might have been chrome when you bought it. Or a stack of National Geographic magazines. Marketing 101 people: If your old sweatshirt smells like cat pee to you, then it smells like Satan's bladder to the rest of us. Also, it's safe to say that a box full of VHS tapes (Days of Thunder, Star Wars: Episode 1, Jurassic Park, How to Raise a Child, et al), though certainly full of sentimental value, is not going to be a good way to earn back the $450 you spent on it. I know there is that little voice inside of your head that says, "But someone might want it." Ignore that voice. That's the same voice that told you buy them in the first place and look where you are now: pushing them onto the less fortunate.

'Scuse me while I kiss this guy

The following three videos made my week. The first one is potty-mouthed Christian Bale getting angry at a DP on the set of Terminator Salvation. It's a little long and laden with naughty language. The second one is David after the dentist. And the third one is the two becoming one.


America!

Let's talk about the passion...

 
Toby several hours post surgery. He's got a pain patch stapled to his stomach (green bandage), a white bandage around his neck to strap the cone to, a brown bandage on his leg to keep it straight, a yellow bandage to protect the IV site, is and horribly drugged up. But he is saying some incredibly profound things.

A family of trees...

Two things.
1)

2) My new favorite blog to check. Cakes are the new black!

This is the end, my only friend, the end

I told you all that it didn't matter whether or not I turned the lights off or not. Now scientists say that global warming can't be stopped.

Global warming is irreversible, study says

So long polar bears!

Everything is changing and I still feel the same

So my dog blew out his knee. Like the equivalent of what would be an ACL in a human. So we probably have to get surgery on it. Which is silly, because he's just a dog but then again, maybe he'll call 911 when we're having seizures and save our lives. You never can tell what man's best friend is going to do.

Also, I'm in nursing school now. I quit my job in December and have decided to pursue a career in the medical field. It was a huge step and I'm glad I did it but of course, it's a distinct difference from working full time. I started January 5th. So far, it's been good. Tomorrow I have to read a bazillion pages and then take notes on them and then memorize a buttload of terms. In case it was unknown, a buttload is the medical term for approximately 35.

Honestly, life is good. I feel like things are coming together and I have some kind of direction in my life and also, all my dark colored clothes are clean so what else do I need?

More later, if the pen is willing.

Cuz it's 187 on a ...

A math problem: SJS versus 6 ft, 200 lb, 30 year old PCP user = 8 stitches and one tazed suspect

That hunger is a lack of cat food

Forget the homeless, save Gilbert's cats.

Hey girl, how you doing?

I tried to tell everyone but no one is listening anymore. BLACK WOMEN IN THE U.S. ARE SHRINKING!!!

And here you thought you were just getting taller.

Too rich too poor

So I was perusing the interwebs and found this entirely sublime gallery of pictures taken by a cat named Cooper with a special camera. I don't know why I enjoyed it so much, except that some of the pictures are so peaceful that it makes me think that this cat was somehow finding bliss in just sitting and looking that the world around him. I think this cat can teach us something. Like how to clean ourselves with our tongues.

You better you bet

This has been an overwhelming November for me. First, I voted even though economically speaking it makes no sense. Then, I decided to buy stock to stimulate the economy. Then, I played through Weezer's My Name is Jonas on medium and only missed 4 or 5 notes in it. Then I played football-with other people. Then, today I ANSWERED A GOVERNMENTAL SURVEY!

I couldn't believe my luck when five days ago I got a notice from the census bureau saying I would be receiving a survey in a few days and I would have to fill it out and it would be not only an American thing to do, it would be against law not to. So I spent 30 minutes today while CSI: Miami was on in the background answering questions about my raceemploymentincomeinsurance, my wife's raceemploymentincomeinsurance, my brother's raceemploymentincomeinsurance, etc. And I hope they take this information and turn this world into a better place.

I did just realize, however, that I might be sending an identity theft a lot of my information, so if this is a complex scam, congratulations! Here, take my hand! Take my whole life, too! Because I can't stop falling in love with you! Hmmm. Something isn't right...

That's the way we became the Brady Bunch!

Black Friday update: One maintenance worker dead in an NY Wal*Mart after being trampled by frugal shoppers. Two people shot in a Palm Desert Toys*R*Us over a "personal dispute."

I went to Circuit City and didn't see anything there worth shooting someone over.

I went to Michael's and almost had a panic attack because I felt so out of place. I seriously debated buying a cookie tin (A COOKIE TIN) just so I could use my 50% off one item coupon.

I went to Lowe's and the garage storage unit that had been marked $50 off was already sold out. Apparently you can't go into a store at 2 pm and expect the hot deals to be lined up for you.

I was watching an auction on eBay for a "Umlocked iPhone" (sic) that was incredibly low but then the seller pulled it from the webernet so no one could bid on it. Apparently he wanted more than $11.50 for it.

I did buy a router on eBay but that was mostly so I could use my coupon.

Also, Stephen left today for the Great Northwest. I guess I'll have to get by somehow.

The end of the beginning of the end

It's official. I am an EMT.

This one's for me/not for anyone else/I need it you see

I threw all I had, into the sea...

I voted on Tuesday, and it was a big deal for me. I hadn't voted in a few years and it was primarily from an economic standpoint: my vote doesn't count. It just doesn't. But a couple of weeks ago, I decided that if there was even a chance that Sen. Barack Obama could bring about the change he was championing, I wanted to say I had a part in it.

I went to the my polling place and got choked up as I walked to the door. I couldn't say why, really, I just felt that voting in this election went beyond civic duty, beyond being the right thing to do, and became something I was compelled to do because somewhere in this cynical mind of mine, I love this country. It was while reading Audacity of Hope that I realized that despite our nation's warts and ugly scars there is still something redeemable about this place.

And late Tuesday night, something happened that hasn't happened in years: I was proud to be an American.

Yesterday a couple of my coworkers (from Europe) said they were scared by McCain's concession speech, especially when he said that, "America is the greatest country in the world." I think they were concerned with the nationalistic tone of the statement and even, jokingly, compared him to Hitler and Mussolini. And I'm sure that blind nationalism is entirely scary to foreigners, especially those whose country was bowled over by tanks and guns and soldiers who believed their own country was the greatest in the world.

But a phrase like that is similar to saying your family is the greatest in the world. Not only is it relative (no pun), but you say it despite the members who don't talk to each other or the way they treat outsiders or their seemingly contradictory stance on gossip about other members. You say it because you need to know that something you belong to is significant. And you say it because you need convincing that you can put up with all of the silly/stupid/bad things. And you say it for you. It's not a judgment on other families; it's a statement that reconciles your sphere of influence with your insecurities.

And that's why I say this is the greatest country in the world: because when I compare America to other nations, we fall short in many ways. But when I realize that the same rich history which caused many of our problems also inherently allows us the ability to change who we are, I realize I wouldn't give that up.

I'm proud to be American. And I'm proud to have voted, not because it counted, but because I could.

Does that make me a stranger?

It struck me today that there are several things that either make you a genius or very truly crazy and the line is very thin:

1. Creating an alter ego. This can be seen in musicians, actors, writers, et al, but can also be found in the guy on the corner telling you that he is either Superman, Jesus Christ, or a grilled cheese sandwich.

2. Growing a beard and not caring about your appearance. Again, either you have rejected society's standards or society has rejected yours.

3. Writing poetry. Writing poetry well makes you a genius. Writing poetry poorly makes you a lifeless ingenue.


4. People who commit suicide. If you kill yourself for art, you are a troubled genius who saw this life as the sham it was. If you kill yourself for a religion, girlfriend, or just happened to be experimenting with some weird choking fetish, you are crazy.



5. Being a politician. Either you are absolutely infatuated with humankind and its improvement or you are a megalomaniacal narcissist who will try to kill us all.



6. Speaking several languages. People who can speak and study in several languages are brilliant, but people who speak in several languages to no one in particular are crazy.



So far, this is it. First the good news: if you aren't one of these people, you aren't crazy. Bad news? If you aren't one of these people, you aren't a genius.