This is the reason why there's a nursing shortage:
-10 page paper due on Thursday that was assigned Monday at 8pm
-3 exams
-2 quizzes
-Another paper due Wednesday
One of the exams is not a typical exam. You have to get above an 86% on it to pass the course. If you fail the test, you fail the course, no matter if you've gotten A's on everything else. Fair, huh?
That's my week, and I'm CRAZY.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
To Write Love on Her Arms
This is taken from the TWLOHA website. It's an awesome story about how TWLOHA got started. There are so many people suffering from depression; people you know, but you would never guess. I know because I was there once too, and I am forever grateful for the people who helped hold me up and pull me out of the aweful place I was drowning in during that time in my life. Read on and support.
Pedro the Lion is loud in the speakers, and the city waits just outside our open windows. She sits and sings, legs crossed in the passenger seat, her pretty voice hiding in the volume. Music is a safe place and Pedro is her favorite. It hits me that she won't see this skyline for several weeks, and we will be without her. I lean forward, knowing this will be written, and I ask what she'd say if her story had an audience. She smiles. "Tell them to look up. Tell them to remember the stars."
I would rather write her a song, because songs don't wait to resolve, and because songs mean so much to her. Stories wait for endings, but songs are brave things bold enough to sing when all they know is darkness. These words, like most words, will be written next to midnight, between hurricane and harbor, as both claim to save her.
Renee is 19. When I meet her, cocaine is fresh in her system. She hasn't slept in 36 hours and she won't for another 24. It is a familiar blur of coke, pot, pills and alcohol. She has agreed to meet us, to listen and to let us pray. We ask Renee to come with us, to leave this broken night. She says she'll go to rehab tomorrow, but she isn't ready now. It is too great a change. We pray and say goodbye and it is hard to leave without her.
She has known such great pain; haunted dreams as a child, the near-constant presence of evil ever since. She has felt the touch of awful naked men, battled depression and addiction, and attempted suicide. Her arms remember razor blades, fifty scars that speak of self-inflicted wounds. Six hours after I meet her, she is feeling trapped, two groups of "friends" offering opposite ideas. Everyone is asleep. The sun is rising. She drinks long from a bottle of liquor, takes a razor blade from the table and locks herself in the bathroom. She cuts herself, using the blade to write "FUCK UP" large across her left forearm.
The nurse at the treatment center finds the wound several hours later. The center has no detox, names her too great a risk, and does not accept her. For the next five days, she is ours to love. We become her hospital and the possibility of healing fills our living room with life. It is unspoken and there are only a few of us, but we will be her church, the body of Christ coming alive to meet her needs, to write love on her arms.
She is full of contrast, more alive and closer to death than anyone I've known, like a Johnny Cash song or some theatre star. She owns attitude and humor beyond her 19 years, and when she tells me her story, she is humble and quiet and kind, shaped by the pain of a hundred lifetimes. I sit privileged but breaking as she shares. Her life has been so dark yet there is some soft hope in her words, and on consecutive evenings, I watch the prettiest girls in the room tell her that she's beautiful. I think it's God reminding her.
I've never walked this road, but I decide that if we're going to run a five-day rehab, it is going to be the coolest in the country. It is going to be rock and roll. We start with the basics; lots of fun, too much Starbucks and way too many cigarettes
Thursday night she is in the balcony for Band Marino, Orlando's finest. They are indie-folk-fabulous, a movement disguised as a circus. She loves them and she smiles when I point out the A&R man from Atlantic Europe, in town from London just to catch this show.
She is in good seats when the Magic beat the Sonics the next night, screaming like a lifelong fan with every Dwight Howard dunk. On the way home, we stop for more coffee and books, Blue Like Jazz and (Anne Lamott's) Travelling Mercies.
On Saturday, the Taste of Chaos tour is in town and I'm not even sure we can get in, but doors do open and minutes after parking, we are on stage for Thrice, one of her favorite bands. She stands ten feet from the drummer, smiling constantly. It is a bright moment there in the music, as light and rain collide above the stage. It feels like healing. It is certainly hope.
Sunday night is church and many gather after the service to pray for Renee, this her last night before entering rehab. Some are strangers but all are friends tonight. The prayers move from broken to bold, all encouraging. We're talking to God but I think as much, we're talking to her, telling her she's loved, saying she does not go alone. One among us knows her best. Ryan sits in the corner strumming an acoustic guitar, singing songs she's inspired.
After church our house fills with friends, there for a few more moments before goodbye. Everyone has some gift for her, some note or hug or piece of encouragement. She pulls me aside and tells me she would like to give me something. I smile surprised, wondering what it could be. We walk through the crowded living room, to the garage and her stuff.
She hands me her last razor blade, tells me it is the one she used to cut her arm and her last lines of cocaine five nights before. She's had it with her ever since, shares that tonight will be the hardest night and she shouldn't have it. I hold it carefully, thank her and know instantly that this moment, this gift, will stay with me. It hits me to wonder if this great feeling is what Christ knows when we surrender our broken hearts, when we trade death for life.
As we arrive at the treatment center, she finishes: "The stars are always there but we miss them in the dirt and clouds. We miss them in the storms. Tell them to remember hope. We have hope."
I have watched life come back to her, and it has been a privilege. When our time with her began, someone suggested shifts but that is the language of business. Love is something better. I have been challenged and changed, reminded that love is that simple answer to so many of our hardest questions. Don Miller says we're called to hold our hands against the wounds of a broken world, to stop the bleeding. I agree so greatly.
We often ask God to show up. We pray prayers of rescue. Perhaps God would ask us to be that rescue, to be His body, to move for things that matter. He is not invisible when we come alive. I might be simple but more and more, I believe God works in love, speaks in love, is revealed in our love. I have seen that this week and honestly, it has been simple: Take a broken girl, treat her like a famous princess, give her the best seats in the house. Buy her coffee and cigarettes for the coming down, books and bathroom things for the days ahead. Tell her something true when all she's known are lies. Tell her God loves her. Tell her about forgiveness, the possibility of freedom, tell her she was made to dance in white dresses. All these things are true.
We are only asked to love, to offer hope to the many hopeless. We don't get to choose all the endings, but we are asked to play the rescuers. We won't solve all mysteries and our hearts will certainly break in such a vulnerable life, but it is the best way. We were made to be lovers bold in broken places, pouring ourselves out again and again until we're called home.
I have learned so much in one week with one brave girl. She is alive now, in the patience and safety of rehab, covered in marks of madness but choosing to believe that God makes things new, that He meant hope and healing in the stars. She would ask you to remember.
Pedro the Lion is loud in the speakers, and the city waits just outside our open windows. She sits and sings, legs crossed in the passenger seat, her pretty voice hiding in the volume. Music is a safe place and Pedro is her favorite. It hits me that she won't see this skyline for several weeks, and we will be without her. I lean forward, knowing this will be written, and I ask what she'd say if her story had an audience. She smiles. "Tell them to look up. Tell them to remember the stars."
I would rather write her a song, because songs don't wait to resolve, and because songs mean so much to her. Stories wait for endings, but songs are brave things bold enough to sing when all they know is darkness. These words, like most words, will be written next to midnight, between hurricane and harbor, as both claim to save her.
Renee is 19. When I meet her, cocaine is fresh in her system. She hasn't slept in 36 hours and she won't for another 24. It is a familiar blur of coke, pot, pills and alcohol. She has agreed to meet us, to listen and to let us pray. We ask Renee to come with us, to leave this broken night. She says she'll go to rehab tomorrow, but she isn't ready now. It is too great a change. We pray and say goodbye and it is hard to leave without her.
She has known such great pain; haunted dreams as a child, the near-constant presence of evil ever since. She has felt the touch of awful naked men, battled depression and addiction, and attempted suicide. Her arms remember razor blades, fifty scars that speak of self-inflicted wounds. Six hours after I meet her, she is feeling trapped, two groups of "friends" offering opposite ideas. Everyone is asleep. The sun is rising. She drinks long from a bottle of liquor, takes a razor blade from the table and locks herself in the bathroom. She cuts herself, using the blade to write "FUCK UP" large across her left forearm.
The nurse at the treatment center finds the wound several hours later. The center has no detox, names her too great a risk, and does not accept her. For the next five days, she is ours to love. We become her hospital and the possibility of healing fills our living room with life. It is unspoken and there are only a few of us, but we will be her church, the body of Christ coming alive to meet her needs, to write love on her arms.
She is full of contrast, more alive and closer to death than anyone I've known, like a Johnny Cash song or some theatre star. She owns attitude and humor beyond her 19 years, and when she tells me her story, she is humble and quiet and kind, shaped by the pain of a hundred lifetimes. I sit privileged but breaking as she shares. Her life has been so dark yet there is some soft hope in her words, and on consecutive evenings, I watch the prettiest girls in the room tell her that she's beautiful. I think it's God reminding her.
I've never walked this road, but I decide that if we're going to run a five-day rehab, it is going to be the coolest in the country. It is going to be rock and roll. We start with the basics; lots of fun, too much Starbucks and way too many cigarettes
Thursday night she is in the balcony for Band Marino, Orlando's finest. They are indie-folk-fabulous, a movement disguised as a circus. She loves them and she smiles when I point out the A&R man from Atlantic Europe, in town from London just to catch this show.
She is in good seats when the Magic beat the Sonics the next night, screaming like a lifelong fan with every Dwight Howard dunk. On the way home, we stop for more coffee and books, Blue Like Jazz and (Anne Lamott's) Travelling Mercies.
On Saturday, the Taste of Chaos tour is in town and I'm not even sure we can get in, but doors do open and minutes after parking, we are on stage for Thrice, one of her favorite bands. She stands ten feet from the drummer, smiling constantly. It is a bright moment there in the music, as light and rain collide above the stage. It feels like healing. It is certainly hope.
Sunday night is church and many gather after the service to pray for Renee, this her last night before entering rehab. Some are strangers but all are friends tonight. The prayers move from broken to bold, all encouraging. We're talking to God but I think as much, we're talking to her, telling her she's loved, saying she does not go alone. One among us knows her best. Ryan sits in the corner strumming an acoustic guitar, singing songs she's inspired.
After church our house fills with friends, there for a few more moments before goodbye. Everyone has some gift for her, some note or hug or piece of encouragement. She pulls me aside and tells me she would like to give me something. I smile surprised, wondering what it could be. We walk through the crowded living room, to the garage and her stuff.
She hands me her last razor blade, tells me it is the one she used to cut her arm and her last lines of cocaine five nights before. She's had it with her ever since, shares that tonight will be the hardest night and she shouldn't have it. I hold it carefully, thank her and know instantly that this moment, this gift, will stay with me. It hits me to wonder if this great feeling is what Christ knows when we surrender our broken hearts, when we trade death for life.
As we arrive at the treatment center, she finishes: "The stars are always there but we miss them in the dirt and clouds. We miss them in the storms. Tell them to remember hope. We have hope."
I have watched life come back to her, and it has been a privilege. When our time with her began, someone suggested shifts but that is the language of business. Love is something better. I have been challenged and changed, reminded that love is that simple answer to so many of our hardest questions. Don Miller says we're called to hold our hands against the wounds of a broken world, to stop the bleeding. I agree so greatly.
We often ask God to show up. We pray prayers of rescue. Perhaps God would ask us to be that rescue, to be His body, to move for things that matter. He is not invisible when we come alive. I might be simple but more and more, I believe God works in love, speaks in love, is revealed in our love. I have seen that this week and honestly, it has been simple: Take a broken girl, treat her like a famous princess, give her the best seats in the house. Buy her coffee and cigarettes for the coming down, books and bathroom things for the days ahead. Tell her something true when all she's known are lies. Tell her God loves her. Tell her about forgiveness, the possibility of freedom, tell her she was made to dance in white dresses. All these things are true.
We are only asked to love, to offer hope to the many hopeless. We don't get to choose all the endings, but we are asked to play the rescuers. We won't solve all mysteries and our hearts will certainly break in such a vulnerable life, but it is the best way. We were made to be lovers bold in broken places, pouring ourselves out again and again until we're called home.
I have learned so much in one week with one brave girl. She is alive now, in the patience and safety of rehab, covered in marks of madness but choosing to believe that God makes things new, that He meant hope and healing in the stars. She would ask you to remember.
asdfiuewhfpaiwefew
Who the frick invented nursing school?
I wanna file a claim against them!!!!
Then maybe shoot myself in the eye.
I wanna file a claim against them!!!!
Then maybe shoot myself in the eye.
Friends
My BFF and I were facebook chatting, and she said the sweetest thing to me. It totally made my night better, and made my studying worthwile.
BFF: I love you best friend! I am really proud of you!
Me: Why?
BFF: Because you have studied you ass off and worked really hard and are going to be so good at what ever you end up doing. you are just impeccable
Me: Aww. You made me cry.
BFF: Lol. you're a baby
BFF: i like you
BFF: I love you best friend! I am really proud of you!
Me: Why?
BFF: Because you have studied you ass off and worked really hard and are going to be so good at what ever you end up doing. you are just impeccable
Me: Aww. You made me cry.
BFF: Lol. you're a baby
BFF: i like you
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Beautiful
Occasionally, I find time to take pictures between studying. I really enjoy taking pictures, and I (think?) I'm decent at it. I actually love doing portraits
. I've done every kind of shoot: senior pics, weddings, maternity, family, etc, but never nude photos, though I've always wanted to. I love the female body; I think women are amazing beings, and the female body is just breathtaking. Maybe this is part of the future midwife in me; I just love women! I think everything about being a women is beautiful and a thing to be celebrated.
Edit: Yes, I took these.
. I've done every kind of shoot: senior pics, weddings, maternity, family, etc, but never nude photos, though I've always wanted to. I love the female body; I think women are amazing beings, and the female body is just breathtaking. Maybe this is part of the future midwife in me; I just love women! I think everything about being a women is beautiful and a thing to be celebrated.Edit: Yes, I took these.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Ain't got no stomach
My patient today was depressed and delusional. He refuses to eat or drink because he believes he has no digestive organs, like an esophagus or stomach. He refuses to let people touch and assess him. He refuses his medications, which are vital to his mental wellbeing. He's been in the hospital for around a month, and he is finally getting some inprovement through ECT (electroconvulsive therapy). Basically, they shock you into being happy! It's interesting to see how it works though, because he will be interative and eating right after shock therapy, and in the afternoon his interaction dwindles down so much that he doesn't make eye contact or answer yes/no questions. He hides his face under the blankets and refuses to keep on his hosptial gown.
I have a heart for these kind of patients, maybe because I can relate to them. Sometimes you just need someone to treat you normal and not treat you like you're crazy; like they don't know what the hell is wrong in your brain that makes you feel so sad you can't get out of bed.
So, instead of shrinking the poor man, I opened up his blinds and let the beautiful blue sky and gorgeous colors of the changing leaves shine in his room, and talked to him like a normal person about irrelavant things, even if he didn't talk back. And his response?
He smiled and looked out the window for a long time. And he let me touch him. And took all of his medications.
Sometimes I think I might just make a good nurse afterall.
I have a heart for these kind of patients, maybe because I can relate to them. Sometimes you just need someone to treat you normal and not treat you like you're crazy; like they don't know what the hell is wrong in your brain that makes you feel so sad you can't get out of bed.
So, instead of shrinking the poor man, I opened up his blinds and let the beautiful blue sky and gorgeous colors of the changing leaves shine in his room, and talked to him like a normal person about irrelavant things, even if he didn't talk back. And his response?
He smiled and looked out the window for a long time. And he let me touch him. And took all of his medications.
Sometimes I think I might just make a good nurse afterall.
Top 10 NANDA diagnoses for nursing students
These crack me up! They are so true!
10. Fluid volume deficit related to dehydrating effects of caffeine associated with increased student sightings at coffee bars.
9. Impaired social interactions related to inappropriate topics of conversation associated with incessant discussions of bowel and bladder functions.
8. Sexual dysfunction related to time constraints and stress-induced impotence associated with increased irritability of nursing students and their significant others.
7. Functional constipation related to a lack of time to go to the bathroom associated with moving at the speed of light and still not getting everything done.
6. Impaired skin integrity related to increased intake of fat, chocolate, and alcohol associated with return to adolescent facial breakouts.
5. Anticipatory grieving related to impending midterms and final exams associated with crying fits in October, December, March, and May.
4. Maturational enuresis related to trauma-induced regression to childhood associated with frequent changing of linens.
3. Ineffective individual coping: obsessivecompulsive behaviors r/t high demand of nursing school associated with continual checking and rechecking of calendars, date books, course syllabi, and other nursing students to reassure that one is not forgetting assignments.
2. Altered thought processes: caffeine-induced psychosis related to increased coffee consumption.
1. Self-care deficit related to being a nursing student.
Carolyn Highley, BSN, RN, former editor's assistant, Nursing Diagnosis
10. Fluid volume deficit related to dehydrating effects of caffeine associated with increased student sightings at coffee bars.
9. Impaired social interactions related to inappropriate topics of conversation associated with incessant discussions of bowel and bladder functions.
8. Sexual dysfunction related to time constraints and stress-induced impotence associated with increased irritability of nursing students and their significant others.
7. Functional constipation related to a lack of time to go to the bathroom associated with moving at the speed of light and still not getting everything done.
6. Impaired skin integrity related to increased intake of fat, chocolate, and alcohol associated with return to adolescent facial breakouts.
5. Anticipatory grieving related to impending midterms and final exams associated with crying fits in October, December, March, and May.
4. Maturational enuresis related to trauma-induced regression to childhood associated with frequent changing of linens.
3. Ineffective individual coping: obsessivecompulsive behaviors r/t high demand of nursing school associated with continual checking and rechecking of calendars, date books, course syllabi, and other nursing students to reassure that one is not forgetting assignments.
2. Altered thought processes: caffeine-induced psychosis related to increased coffee consumption.
1. Self-care deficit related to being a nursing student.
Carolyn Highley, BSN, RN, former editor's assistant, Nursing Diagnosis
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Sweetest Old Man
I haven't written about my patient I had on Monday. Sometimes I have a hard time making myself sit down and write about my patients because I actually have to think; but, that's the whole point of this blog. For me to write and rememember, right?
Anyway, I fell in love with my patient the moment I met him. Almost 90 year old Navy vet with dementia. I couldn't understand anything he said, but he tried his best to talk to me.
I didn't even mind (that much) that he had explosive diarrhea, over and over again. As always, I felt bad for him. I know it's more difficult for the patient's getting their butts wiped by a stranger than actually doing the butt-wiping. I can't even imagine havin got succomb to someone wiping my rear for me because I am too old/too ill.
Anyway.
I doing my head-to-toe assessment, and as I was checking his heart sounds, he smiled up at me really big and held my face in his hand. My heart melted; so did his daughter's. She said people have a difficult time taking care of him because he is incoherant because of dementia. I think this just makes him more special. People like this take more time, yes, but it's sooo worth it. Relationships with patients like this, most of the time you get out what you put into it.
I loved that sweet old man.
Anyway, I fell in love with my patient the moment I met him. Almost 90 year old Navy vet with dementia. I couldn't understand anything he said, but he tried his best to talk to me.
I didn't even mind (that much) that he had explosive diarrhea, over and over again. As always, I felt bad for him. I know it's more difficult for the patient's getting their butts wiped by a stranger than actually doing the butt-wiping. I can't even imagine havin got succomb to someone wiping my rear for me because I am too old/too ill.
Anyway.
I doing my head-to-toe assessment, and as I was checking his heart sounds, he smiled up at me really big and held my face in his hand. My heart melted; so did his daughter's. She said people have a difficult time taking care of him because he is incoherant because of dementia. I think this just makes him more special. People like this take more time, yes, but it's sooo worth it. Relationships with patients like this, most of the time you get out what you put into it.
I loved that sweet old man.
Christmas Shopping a la Computererdora
o, I don't speak Spanish. Don't hate me for trying!
I've been feeling better today, though not classworthy according to my doctor. I've been online Christmas shopping today in between my naps and make-up work. I found this sweet necklace Little Sister. Of course they don't sell cutie little items like this in America, cause we're just not cute enough over here; the necklace is from Thailand. I found it on Etsy. I love Etsy! Speaking of Etsy, I want this hat!
I've been feeling better today, though not classworthy according to my doctor. I've been online Christmas shopping today in between my naps and make-up work. I found this sweet necklace Little Sister. Of course they don't sell cutie little items like this in America, cause we're just not cute enough over here; the necklace is from Thailand. I found it on Etsy. I love Etsy! Speaking of Etsy, I want this hat!
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Loved.
For the past two days, I have been woken up, almost every hour, by someone calling, "just to see how you're feeling", which is nice. Really, nice, but not calling six times a day.
Anyway, so I was grumpy, because I am missing class, behind in my school work, which I am trying to keep up with, but I'm just so exhausted from whatever mysterious disease my poor body is striken with, and people keep calling me.
So my momma shows up at my house this evening, carrying about six Walmart bags containing:
-2 cases of Gatorade. One red, one blue, because she couldn't remember which one I liked.
-5 cans of soup, in various brands and flavors.
-A can of Lysol
-2 big cans of Lysol wipes
-A giant bottle of Germ-X
-A box of Oreos for my caretakers
-And lastly, a book for me to read
My mom is so sweet and thoughtful.
And to top it all off, my dear, sweet, handsome fiance brought me a Cookies & Cream milkshake from Chick-fil-a.
I am loved.
Anyway, so I was grumpy, because I am missing class, behind in my school work, which I am trying to keep up with, but I'm just so exhausted from whatever mysterious disease my poor body is striken with, and people keep calling me.
So my momma shows up at my house this evening, carrying about six Walmart bags containing:
-2 cases of Gatorade. One red, one blue, because she couldn't remember which one I liked.
-5 cans of soup, in various brands and flavors.
-A can of Lysol
-2 big cans of Lysol wipes
-A giant bottle of Germ-X
-A box of Oreos for my caretakers
-And lastly, a book for me to read
My mom is so sweet and thoughtful.
And to top it all off, my dear, sweet, handsome fiance brought me a Cookies & Cream milkshake from Chick-fil-a.
I am loved.
Tea Love
I love this tea. I love it especially when I am sick. It's really spicy if you let it steep too long, but if you get it right, it's amazing. 
If you like hot tea, try this! It's only out during the holiday season though, so stock up!
If you like hot tea, try this! It's only out during the holiday season though, so stock up!
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Pig Flu
Obviously, I should have made my to-do list a bit earlier. I went to the doctor today, and he is pretty sure I caught the pig flu on top of bronchitis.
No classes for me 'til Monday. I am going to be so behind.
:(
No classes for me 'til Monday. I am going to be so behind.
:(
Monday, October 19, 2009
Best. Day. Ever.
Today:
-I accidently flashed my 60 year old neighbor
-My patient in clinical had dementia. And explosive diarrhea. Nine times today. And had to play in it. No, I'm not kidding
-My fiancee recieve a vulgar, obscene prank call
-I got my period. Out of nowhere
-I was wearing white clinical pants when I got my period
-I am sick
-I went to Walmart to buy a thermometer to convince my mom I didn't NOT have H1N1 flu as evidenced by the absense of a fever because me feeling my own forehead wasn't convincement (is that a word?) enough. I had to buy an ovulation thermometer because they were all sold out of every other thermometer. Actually it was between the family planning thermometer or the pacifer one. Take your pick
-I have an exam tomorrow
-I had to take my engagement ring back to Zales to be fixed because one of the diamonds fell out. I don't get it back for a month
-I ate lunch at 11 am. I didn't get dinner 'til 10pm
Best. Day. Ever.
-I accidently flashed my 60 year old neighbor
-My patient in clinical had dementia. And explosive diarrhea. Nine times today. And had to play in it. No, I'm not kidding
-My fiancee recieve a vulgar, obscene prank call
-I got my period. Out of nowhere
-I was wearing white clinical pants when I got my period
-I am sick
-I went to Walmart to buy a thermometer to convince my mom I didn't NOT have H1N1 flu as evidenced by the absense of a fever because me feeling my own forehead wasn't convincement (is that a word?) enough. I had to buy an ovulation thermometer because they were all sold out of every other thermometer. Actually it was between the family planning thermometer or the pacifer one. Take your pick
-I have an exam tomorrow
-I had to take my engagement ring back to Zales to be fixed because one of the diamonds fell out. I don't get it back for a month
-I ate lunch at 11 am. I didn't get dinner 'til 10pm
Best. Day. Ever.
To do list
To do:
-Plan our wedding
-Reminder: do not wear red fingernail polish the day before clinical
-Do laundry more often
-Buy more underwear!!!!!!!!!
-Study for endocrine/hepatic exam
-Get piggy flu vaccination
-Don't get piggy flu before you get your vaccination
-Eat vitamin C
-STOP DRINKING COFFEE
-Be more tolerant of people
-VEGETABLES
-Tweeze eyebrows
-Stop running late
-Plan our wedding
-Reminder: do not wear red fingernail polish the day before clinical
-Do laundry more often
-Buy more underwear!!!!!!!!!
-Study for endocrine/hepatic exam
-Get piggy flu vaccination
-Don't get piggy flu before you get your vaccination
-Eat vitamin C
-STOP DRINKING COFFEE
-Be more tolerant of people
-VEGETABLES
-Tweeze eyebrows
-Stop running late
Underwear
Dear Mom,
Do not laugh at me this year when I insist on adding "underwear" to my Christmas list.
I swear the laundry monster eats mine,
Love,
Your crazy underwear-deprived daughter
Do not laugh at me this year when I insist on adding "underwear" to my Christmas list.
I swear the laundry monster eats mine,
Love,
Your crazy underwear-deprived daughter
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Kindess
A stranger showed me kindness today.
Little Sister had a bad day, so I decided on my way home from work I would make her a blackberry chocolate chip pie because she loves it. I am a poor college student, so as usual, I scrounged up my dollar bills and change before going into Walmart to buy the things I needed for the pie. I got to the register, and I was $0.97 short, and kind of mortified.
Then, I heard a voice behind me say, "You need a dollar? Here, I'll get ya." I turned around and saw a scraggly man buying sausage and a halloween mask. He didn't look like he owned much money. I was so surprised. People aren't usually kind these days.
His kindness made my day.
So I decided to be kind and share my blackberry chocolate chip pie recipie with you :)
1 premade frozen 9in double pie crust (I like Mrs. Smith's)
3/4 cup white sugar
1/3 cup flour
3/4 teaspoon cinnamon
4 cups blackberries (you can use fresh or frozen. just defrost the frozen ones if you use those)
1/3 cup semisweet chocolate chips
1/2 tablespoon lemon juice
Preheat oven to 435 degrees F. In a bowl, mix sugar, flour, and cinnamon. Stir in blackberries and chocolate chips, then add lemon juice. Pour mixture into one of the pie crusts. Place second pie crust on top of the first after mixture is poured in (personally, I like to roll out the top pie crust after its defrosted, then cut it and do the lattice on top). Wrap edges with aluminum foil. Bake for 30 minutes. Unwrap edges and bake for 5 minutes, or until both top and edges are golden brown.
Pictures to follow :)
Little Sister had a bad day, so I decided on my way home from work I would make her a blackberry chocolate chip pie because she loves it. I am a poor college student, so as usual, I scrounged up my dollar bills and change before going into Walmart to buy the things I needed for the pie. I got to the register, and I was $0.97 short, and kind of mortified.
Then, I heard a voice behind me say, "You need a dollar? Here, I'll get ya." I turned around and saw a scraggly man buying sausage and a halloween mask. He didn't look like he owned much money. I was so surprised. People aren't usually kind these days.
His kindness made my day.
So I decided to be kind and share my blackberry chocolate chip pie recipie with you :)
1 premade frozen 9in double pie crust (I like Mrs. Smith's)
3/4 cup white sugar
1/3 cup flour
3/4 teaspoon cinnamon
4 cups blackberries (you can use fresh or frozen. just defrost the frozen ones if you use those)
1/3 cup semisweet chocolate chips
1/2 tablespoon lemon juice
Preheat oven to 435 degrees F. In a bowl, mix sugar, flour, and cinnamon. Stir in blackberries and chocolate chips, then add lemon juice. Pour mixture into one of the pie crusts. Place second pie crust on top of the first after mixture is poured in (personally, I like to roll out the top pie crust after its defrosted, then cut it and do the lattice on top). Wrap edges with aluminum foil. Bake for 30 minutes. Unwrap edges and bake for 5 minutes, or until both top and edges are golden brown.
Pictures to follow :)
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Fall Break, USMC Graduation
It's been a busy week!
I survived midterms, with only ONE meltdown, which is a huge accomplishment for me. Usually midterms/finals are aweful, but I think my med is really working (yay for me! and those around me. Lol)
Monday and Tuesday we had fall break. I refused to study, but I felt like I needed to be productive. I feel like the only time I can really relax is with the fiance on Thursday nights. We hang out, watch our favorite shows, and that's when I feel like I can not think about staying busy. So instead of lounging around and doing nothing, I ran errands for my mom, cooked almost all day on Monday for a big surprise dinner for my parents (they do so much for me), and Tuesday I cleaned, went to the gym (it's about time!), baked, packed, and hung out with my best friend for a while.
Wednesday, I spend all day driving to my cousin's USMC graduation.
Today, I got to see him. He looked so brave, proud, and handsome. We got to spend 5 hours of free time with him, and then went out for an early dinner. I came back to the hotel and promptly fell asleep because we had gotten up at 4:30 am. Then I studied. I really like studying endocrine. I know almost everyone else hates it, but it just clicks with me.
Midterms: 2 A's and 2 B's. I can live with that.
I survived midterms, with only ONE meltdown, which is a huge accomplishment for me. Usually midterms/finals are aweful, but I think my med is really working (yay for me! and those around me. Lol)
Monday and Tuesday we had fall break. I refused to study, but I felt like I needed to be productive. I feel like the only time I can really relax is with the fiance on Thursday nights. We hang out, watch our favorite shows, and that's when I feel like I can not think about staying busy. So instead of lounging around and doing nothing, I ran errands for my mom, cooked almost all day on Monday for a big surprise dinner for my parents (they do so much for me), and Tuesday I cleaned, went to the gym (it's about time!), baked, packed, and hung out with my best friend for a while.
Wednesday, I spend all day driving to my cousin's USMC graduation.
Today, I got to see him. He looked so brave, proud, and handsome. We got to spend 5 hours of free time with him, and then went out for an early dinner. I came back to the hotel and promptly fell asleep because we had gotten up at 4:30 am. Then I studied. I really like studying endocrine. I know almost everyone else hates it, but it just clicks with me.
Midterms: 2 A's and 2 B's. I can live with that.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
To do list.
I need to:
Not be a compulsive e-mail checker.
Eat more green, leafy vegetables.
See my fiancé more often.
Take more vitamins.
Make time to go to the gym more often.
Not be addicted to Starbucks, lattes, or anything associated with that small, brown, caffeinated bean.
Not stress about the dean’s list.
Make new friends (ha!)
Jump the fiancé’s bones.
Not have insomnia.
Not be a compulsive e-mail checker.
Eat more green, leafy vegetables.
See my fiancé more often.
Take more vitamins.
Make time to go to the gym more often.
Not be addicted to Starbucks, lattes, or anything associated with that small, brown, caffeinated bean.
Not stress about the dean’s list.
Make new friends (ha!)
Jump the fiancé’s bones.
Not have insomnia.
Nervous
I have a big practical exam in an hour, I am so nervous. I will be so thankful when these things are over. I've almost survived midterm week!
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
It's insonia's fault!
I didn't fall asleep until 4 am this morning, due to my lovely friend, insomnia.
It's midterms week, and I just took an exam at 8 am this morning. Thanks to my insomnia-fried brain, I couldn't remember why we faught the "Splendid Little War" with the Mexicans, other than they take all the corn tortillas in Walmart and leave none for us white folk.
It's midterms week, and I just took an exam at 8 am this morning. Thanks to my insomnia-fried brain, I couldn't remember why we faught the "Splendid Little War" with the Mexicans, other than they take all the corn tortillas in Walmart and leave none for us white folk.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Feel your boobies!
Cancer victims have always held a special place in my heart. All throughout highschool, I was involved in Relay for Life, and in college I used to be on our school's Relay for Life committee (loooooong story there). When I first became a CNA at the ripe age of 16, I worked on my local hospital's oncology unit.
I feel for every victim of cancer as it's a terrible disease. Breast cancer hits me in a different way though. Maybe because as a future midwife I like to advocate for women's health, and I am passionate about women in general.
Here's to all the brave, wonderful cancer victims and survivors I've met over the years. Every one of you has inspired me in some way, and I like to think you've inspired me to pursue this profession.
Feel your boobies!
I feel for every victim of cancer as it's a terrible disease. Breast cancer hits me in a different way though. Maybe because as a future midwife I like to advocate for women's health, and I am passionate about women in general.
Here's to all the brave, wonderful cancer victims and survivors I've met over the years. Every one of you has inspired me in some way, and I like to think you've inspired me to pursue this profession.
Feel your boobies!
Fiance
This post is dedicated to my fiance, because he is just that wonderful.
-He has a degree in Information Technology. (Smarty pants.)
-He is (obviously) a nerd. I love it!
-He drives a Jetta, named "Gambino".
-He is on of the most geniune, good-hearted people I know.
-He can fix anything.
-He has a cute bum.
-He does not like vegetables.
-He propo
sed to me on our anniversary, with this.
-He is starting to race bikes, for fun. (I love watching him ride. So hot!)
-He put himself through college, working full time, with no parental support. (So proud of him)
-He still loves me even though I'm (clinically) crazy.
-He has big feet. (See post below!)
I'm just a little in love.
-He has a degree in Information Technology. (Smarty pants.)
-He is (obviously) a nerd. I love it!
-He drives a Jetta, named "Gambino".
-He is on of the most geniune, good-hearted people I know.
-He can fix anything.
-He has a cute bum.
-He does not like vegetables.
-He propo
sed to me on our anniversary, with this.-He is starting to race bikes, for fun. (I love watching him ride. So hot!)
-He put himself through college, working full time, with no parental support. (So proud of him)
-He still loves me even though I'm (clinically) crazy.
-He has big feet. (See post below!)
I'm just a little in love.
You know what they say about big feet...
I was working on paperwork with BigTits (a girl in my clinical group) yesterday, when BigTit's patient comes strolling down the hallway. She sat down with us, so the three of us started chatting, while her patient waited for her boyfriend to show up to take her for a walk.
Patient: (talking about her boyfriend) "____ wears a 38x30 but he's 6'4''. He walks funny cause he has such a long torso!"
BigTits: "He must have short legs then!"
Patient: (chuckling): "Yeah, but he has big feet... And you know what they say about big feet!"
We laughed so hard!
Later, her boyfriend showed up and the patient introduced us to him. He smiled, and was friendly.
All I could think was, "You poor, poor man. You probably had no idea that your girlfriend was just telling two 20somethingyearold hot young girls about the state of your penis, *cough* I mean feet!"
Patient: (talking about her boyfriend) "____ wears a 38x30 but he's 6'4''. He walks funny cause he has such a long torso!"
BigTits: "He must have short legs then!"
Patient: (chuckling): "Yeah, but he has big feet... And you know what they say about big feet!"
We laughed so hard!
Later, her boyfriend showed up and the patient introduced us to him. He smiled, and was friendly.
All I could think was, "You poor, poor man. You probably had no idea that your girlfriend was just telling two 20somethingyearold hot young girls about the state of your penis, *cough* I mean feet!"
Blog Award
Thank you to Tamra for the blog award! (I LOVE her blog. It makes my day!)
The Quiz:
1. you can only use one word!
2. pass this along to 6 of your favorite bloggers
3. alert them that you have given them this award!
4. have fun!
The Fun Part
1. Where is your cell phone? kitchen
2. Your hair? messy
3. Your mother? kick-ass
4. Your father? cuddly
5. Your favorite food? breakfast
6. Your dream last night? bizarre
7. Your favorite drink? coffee
8. Your dream/goal? midwife
9. What room are you in? kitchen
10. Your hobby? photography
11. Your fear? heights
12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? happy
13. Where were you last night? studying
14. Something that you aren’t? hungry
15. Muffins? cranberry
16. Wish list item? percolator
17. Where did you grow up? here
18. Last thing you did? drive
19. What are you wearing? jeans
20. Your TV? big
21. Your pets? brilliant
22. Friends? few
23. Your life? crazy
24. Your mood? content
25. Missing someone? Momma
26. Vehicle? CRAP!
27. Something you’re not wearing? socks
28. Your favorite store? Maurices
29. Your favorite color? Blue
30. When was the last time you laughed? today
31. Last time you cried? mocha (PMS, okay?!)
32. Your best friend? Fiance
33. One place that I go to over and over? class
34. One person who emails me regularly? professors
35. Favorite place to eat? Roma
I am passing this award to (in no particular order):
1.) Mrs. Herrmann
2.) Nienie
3.) Creative Juice Photography
4.) minority midwife
5.) The life and times of Julie Harris :::: A photo blog
6.) THE MEANEST MOM
Thank You, Makeup Girl.
Last night during post-conference, our instructor was asking who has/hasn't done some skills, and when our instuctor asked who hadn't inserted a urinary catheter yet, everyone but me raised their hand.
Makeup girl: (laughing) "Everyone but ______! We all know what happened when she had to put in a catheter."
Everyone in the group is curious now, saying "No? What?"
Me: (Giving makeup girl evil eyes and turning red)
Makeup girl: (still laughing) "Oh, she put in the catheter and passed out in the patient's room."
Thank you, Makeup girl. Thank you.
Makeup girl: (laughing) "Everyone but ______! We all know what happened when she had to put in a catheter."
Everyone in the group is curious now, saying "No? What?"
Me: (Giving makeup girl evil eyes and turning red)
Makeup girl: (still laughing) "Oh, she put in the catheter and passed out in the patient's room."
Thank you, Makeup girl. Thank you.
Friday, October 2, 2009
Thoughts.
It must be the gray sky, the rain, the coolness of the breeze, but my mind is wandering to distant places today. I remember a time...
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Reason #2341234 why I love nursing school
Only in nursing school do you get to ask people, "So, can you describe your diarrhea for me?", and then write a 4 page paper about it.
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