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My journal + project for my patients. Variety of items- real life, to funny happenings. |
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1/11/08 This is my first attempt at a blog of my own. I started this for the 500-words-a-day-group. I believe there is a creative side to all man. Some share it in the words they write, or the deeds they do. For all the heartfelf moments in life, I write. I gave myself a christmas present of a WDC subscription with the goal of structuring myself to create new items and finish things I had begun. I am working on items I think will be great for a book I intend to publish for my patients and the families that love them. I want to create a book that will be left with the patient and family. I work in a Long term acute care facility, many of these patients are hospitalized more then a month. Life gets boring, and scarry and sad, I hope to brighten their day. I hope my book can help them through there journey in healthcare. Unless you are a nurse I don't think you even understand what that means. Often it is a horror story of a journey. If you have anything you would like to share, enter it under the entry "For Your Patients". If you would like to keep your submission private then feel free to e-mail it to me. I intend on sponsoring a contest for this as well, so if you do enter here in the blog you will be more then welcome to put it in the contest once it is up and running. I am in need of inspirational, funny, uplifting, spiritual, touching, vivid imagery in all forms. Quotes, poems, stories, jokes, even honesty- amidst depression with a way to lift yourself out of it as an outcome. Anything you can imagine that would entertain you or speak to your heart, if you were bedridden and unable to enjoy many of the things we take for granted, feel free to share it all. Beyond the project read my blog, Feel free to share or post. Thanks Lorrie |
| Amazing Alice The elder wild child. With a wit that is masked by a quiet demure. Better homes and gardens, but just as comfortable being real and down to earth. She knows the tunes and sings along. Can dance to any beat. Amazing Alice. Sweet Alice. A jem of a girl. Oh and I love your house. Glorius Gale Your laugh is infectious. You laugh with all of you. Ok, bah bye too funny. I raise my arm to you..and we all know that is funny. but the stories you all tell, amuse me. I am comfortable to be there beside you even though I am not a ho...from ramapo = ) |
| Today is a good day to stop and think. It isn't a day to dwell on past mistakes. It is a good day to plan. Plan a future and actually think of myself first. That's a thought. Think of myself first. I wouldn't even know where to begin to do that. That is why, today is a good day, to stop and think and plan for me. |
| Did you ever feel so crappy you could just cry. I don't know what I have it started as a head cold and sore throat, today my whole body hurts! Only good thing is, it has given me time to look through my writing and finish a few things. I still may find the energy to get up and go to a BBQ. Maybe that will help me feel better. I sure could use some ideas for writing in my blog each day. If any of you have a suggestion send it my way. |
| You What? It is New Years Eve with only minutes to go before my shift ends. Time for the final inmate count. If we get this done quick, we will all be out of here and home for the ball to drop. This Unit is special we count every 2 hours, as we house inmates in solitary confinement. They must be visualized to assure they have not hurt themselves. I am getting to the end of the line. Four more doors to view, a total of 62 inmates. Instead of opening the door we bend down and look through the feed slot. It is the perfect viewbox straight to their cot. They know to leave the slot open, so this can be a quick bend look, count and move on. I am really getting into the perfect count, bend find the inmate, check him off the list and move on to the next one. Sort of like an aerobics class. I am moving so fast tonight my thighs are starting to burn. 56 check next, 57 check next, 58 Ch..e..ck ... what the f---?! I yell, "Open 58, call a yellow light!" I can't believe my eyes. In fact, I don't quite know what I am actually looking at. This guy seems to be levatating, somehow. He is about 3 feet up in the air, suspended with his arms out, head flopping back, sort of bobbing. With each bob, he hits the back of his head on the concrete floor. My fellow officers come running, the metal door clicks to unlock and automatically slides open. We are all dumb founded. This guy has hung himself, from of all things, his penis and testicles. Needless to say, things are very stretched out, and his testicles look as if they may explode. The pain must have knocked him unconscious and that is how we found him, like a puppet conected to the ceiling by some type of aparatus I had never seen before. We cut him down, as he hit the floor he started moaning. Now how do you write up this report? Is this an attempted suicide, or is this guy just plain nuts? Of course this called for a visit immediately to the psych doctor. Now if the event wasn't strange enough, I really didn't know what to make of this guy. I felt like I was on candid camera. He looked like Columbo from an old TV program. He was very hard to understand, due to his heavy sort of Spanish-Italian accent. A small man. He looked like a psych patient himself, with a trenchcoat on and of all things smoking a cigar. He sits there with his cigar looking over the report. Smoke circles up around his head as he squints at the paper. His face contorts into a mix between confusion and disbelief. He looks up at the inmate. Then he looks at me, then back at the inmate. He asks the inmate, "Are you a crazy? You don kill a you self from hanging you penis and balls, you choke a the neck with the rope! The inmate just raised his eyebrow as if to say, "You got a point." He then stands up taking the cigar out of his mouth, "I see if you a crazy. Here taka this cigar and stick it, in a you eye!" The inmate looked at him like he was nuts. He then yelled, "Take him away, He NO crazy, He justa stupid!" We returned the inmate to his cell, he didn't seem to be nuts, just embaraced. This definetely gave a new meaning to any mention of a Ball on New Years Eve. |
| Disclaimer: I want to be clear as you read this, this in no way reflects on my current place of employment. I am not pointing fingers at our facility, or any physicians I may work with. This is purely my opinion, being exposed to MANY areas, over my years of nursing. I've been a nurse for 28 years. In those years I have seen a health-care system that is doomed to fail. Hospitals struggle to stay alive, through what ever the current rules and regulations are. Insurance companies make money and they are always looking to make more and pay less. There are few physicians that actually practice what I consider, "good medicine". Supply companies, charge astronomical cost, while going outside our country to produce these products. All that is wrong with our current system, leads me to believe you can not revamp the current system, with the same players at the wheel. If you believe the government is going to control this system any better then it did the current system, I fear you are sadly wrong. As you read this article keep in mind that no one wants to run a business for the well fair it provides to the community. The idea of that went out years ago, before insurance, before our wonderful so called medical advances, that have brought along astronomical cost. Lets understand something right off the bat "votes" may be the premise of reform, but in health care it is all about the dollar. Institutions and private practice are there for profit, to support employees, as well as the lifestyles they are attempting to attain. Let's not forget the cost of malpractice and liability insurance, a motiviating factor in forcing some to practice differently then they may have in the past. With that said, lets look at what we have. We have a system with the "potential" to provide care to all. Some where along the line cost became a factor. Again, business, profit, gain. Keep that in mind vs. the picture of the endearing saturday evening post doctor, listening to a doll with a stethoscope. In comes regulation or re-form, just as before. Medicare was created to provide affordable health care for the elderly. Medicaid, coverage for the low income population. Charity or indigent care, provided by hospitals with some form of government assistance. Then we have HMO's to throw into the whole private insurance mix and wallah, you have our current state of medical coverage. Those of us that work and pay for our own insurance, get a double whammie. I say this as we pay for our own insurance, and our tax dollars are ALREADY paying for a failed health system, that was supposed to provide for all the people. If you key into the words, "already paying for a failed health system", you might understand why I feel the thought of health-care re-form, as almost idiotic. Providing care to all, through the means of taxing the working people MORE to pay for it, does not equate to the providers changing practice to provide this care. If the current practice is not changed, do you not see the same revolving problem just on a bigger scale? I have heard physician after physician talk about this new plan. They think this is a joke. How are you going to change practice, that has become what it is, by telling the providers they are going to do MORE, for ALL people, with less compensation? The answer is, you will not. You may provide false hopes to many, while still playing the same game. I hope you understand that sentence. False hopes, as in I have health care. What will it be worth? Each player of the health care system will continue to figure out what they must do to MAINTAIN their current status. A reform will not change this. Adding more people, to fully cover, will not make health care any better. The ultimate reality is we will all wait in line for care, and it will be the same abused care. I do not have an answer, I just know what I see. People we are in a downward spin, like the water in your kitchen sink. Eventually it drains completely and you have nothing left. |
| Haven't made the time or effort I have wanted to in awhile, but I am finally back to get writing again. Hello to my friends and family that have encouraged me in my plight. Happy New Year all!!!! |
| As I reflect on the end of my marriage, I leave wanting to know how I can move on identifying what I need to change in my life. This is very different from what I had done for years, which was trying to accept what I could not change to keep this relationship intact. My mother gave me a very interesting book on the language of love. It indicates there are 5 basic love language styles. The book relates our love language to the language we speak. Simply, if you hook up with someone that does not speak your language, eventually the relationship will fall apart. We all know there is the infatuation phase and a honeymoon type effect (some of it based on endorphines) that lasts about 2 years. After that phase, it is really all about the language of love that you both communicate. If you are speaking two different languages, then the outcome is going to be far from acceptable. In the begining of the book the therapist shares a conversation with a man on a plane that is ending his third marriage. He is perplexed as he looks back and believes he loved the last 2 wives and thought the last marriage would last for sure. She explained that unless you both understand your own language in love, and your partners, the relationship can not survive. I haven't read the whole book, but it is interesting to start with myself, I find it easy to identify my love style. The part I need to work on, is when I identify a style in someone else I must decide if that is going to work for me, instead of compromising. There is a saying something to the effect about, "doing strange things for love". I now know that making excuses or accepting things that are TOTALLY wrong with someone, for love, is a very strange and unhealthy thing to do. So I think I am at a better place in life to identifiy love styles and in general be fair to me for once. When you find one that actually has no ability to love, stay away. If the ego is so big that all they want is for their "Me" to be taken care of, you will run out of gas. I think for years I have been so in tune with giving, I forgot it is ok to recieve something back. What a nice thought to look forward to. I genuinely give, maybe too much, in a relationship. I would love to move on to love someone that can love me back, just as much. Safety in being held by them. Warmth just to see their face, or hear their voice and know that they speak my language of love. |
| I am going back to my project for my patients and could really use some words to enter in this section. I would like about 2 pages of single words, or short sentence items to reflect on. Things that are really important in life, beyond riches, and material things. Things that make you smile, or give you a sense of peace. So here it goes: 1. A babies smile 2. touch 3. the ocean breeze 4. scent of a rose 5. belonging 6. good memories 7. feeling your muscles after a good work out 8. being able to work out 9. having a job 10. having a family, or someone to love 11. geting an unexpected gift 12. giving a gift and watching the smile that comes when they open it 13. a birds song 14. a babies coo 15. smiling 16. A walk in the rain 17. Sitting by a fire place 18. hot chocolate 19. silence 20. friends 21. A good joke 22. laughing 23. peaceful sleep 24. a kiss from your dog, loves you no matter what or who you are 25. warm blankets 26. having toes 27. Did I throw you on the last one? lol 27. holding hands 28. cherished loved ones 29. reading a book 30 watching a movie 31. loving God 32. God loving me 33. seeing our children grow 34. Growing old gracefully 35. caring to share 36. helping those less fortunate then ourselves 37. a walk in the park 38 a ride on a merri-go-round. 39 candy 40 ice cream 41 the whinny of a horse 42 a gentle breeze 43 Sharing a beautiful sunset 44 A walk along the board walk, hand in hand. 45 That first kiss 46 a funny joke 47 laughing 48 the smell of cookies baking in the oven 49 Going home after a hard day 50 Being with someone that makes you feel good about you. 51 Finding your soulmate 52 Your heart beating as your love holds you 53 Making someone smile : ) My favorite 54 A loving kiss on your forhead 55 Catching a snow flake on the tip of your tongue 56 your favorite song |
| ME I take the path that goes without you. Never looking for what I left. I stumble upon myself. What a beautiful thing! |
| Living in the now, means moving forward. Leaving the baggage behind, Opening the door you feared for so long. The key to finding you. The you, faded and hard to find, never the less still present. If you look hard enough you can still see her Strength is in her reflection, broken maybe, but with the glue called "Life", she can be put back together Stronger for the road traveled Wiser for the struggles Most importantantly Standing strong for the women she is... an overcomer. Smiling still, for all that is life, The good, The bad, all that has made her what she is today. |
| Did you ever think what a gift adoption is? Think of it. You are a child. You have nothing but an institution and the STAFF that WORK there to take care of you. Not the love of a someone that wants to take care of you. The experience must be frightening. Waiting, like items in the store for purchase. Am I good enough to be picked? Why didn't I get picked? What did I do to deserve to be here? These are some of the things I think go through their little minds. How did they get there? Some may be happy to be there. Many of these children had a home, and for some that home was worse then the institution they wait in. How sad is that? Some are taken from homes of abuse and neglect, others left behind by people that couldn't or wouldn't take care of them. I hear people all the time say they wouldn't adopt, because they are damaged. Sort of like damaged goods left in the discount basket at the grocery store. Did you ever realize that often you get a very good deal in those baskets. In fact most of them are just broken on the outside and still very good on the inside. I just can't imagine being thrown away. I do not have the happiest of childhood memories, but at least I wasn't thrown away. If I was thrown away I would hope that God had someone in this world that would come and find me and take me home. I understand that damage is already done to these children, but there is always hope with the right mixture of love and endurance, damage can be repaired or at least brought to a level that is acceptable in life. If you think of it, we are all damaged to some extent. Couldn't we use that pain to see through to the little hearts that need love? As a teen I had goals for life. One of them was to adopt. I have not legally adopted anyone, but did take in 2 step sons when I married for the second time. To me these are little hearts I adopted. These young boys were 9 and 10 when I met them. Their mother was addicted to drugs. They often went hungry, roamed the streets of Irvington NJ late at night to find her. They were finally taken away when the youngest ended up in intesive care from a ruptured appendix. After returning home she never filled his antibiotics and he abcessed ending up having emergency surgery. His grandparents and father finally stepped up and took them away. Shortly after that we married and I welcomed them with loving arms. I took them to counseling, as I knew they would be prone to follow the footsteps of the ones that hurt them, by not caring for them the right way. They were little boys, taking care of and making excuses for a mother that never deserved them. They had a father that never got involved. If it were not for the love and care of my Inlaws, that saved them, they may have just continued to survive in an enviornment that surely would have led them to a jail cell, or a coufin. This was not easy in any way. We made a blended family of my 2 children, his 2 and then within a year we had a baby. So beleive me I can honestly say this was A LOT of work. But I look back to those days and I wouldn't have changed a thing. I can think of special times, or a look of love coming from those little eyes that were like scared animals at first. Hugs that I knew they were not used to giving or recieving. The sacrifice was worth the outcome. By reaching out and giving, you change life. Not just for that little kid, but for yourself. |
| When you were little you asked me, "How much did I love you?" My answer was the same as my Mom's words to me. My reply, "I love you to my heart." With outstretched arms, showing you as much love as I could hold, you jumped up into my arms. Your little golden locks hung down to your button nose, you asked. "Is love as big as the Moon?" I replied, "Bigger". You made a silly quirk of a face and flopped off the couch to land upside down, struggling to get out the words, "Is love... better then... chocolate?" I laughed, "Much better!" You flipped over standing now with a very red face, pointing at me as if you were mad, "Better then chocolate, I don't think so!" I sat you on my lap and told you about Valentines Day, Cupid and his arrows, how we always get goodies and chocolates on that day, but Love it lasts forever. Again your mad face is looking at me with your nose all wrinkled up, you said, "I don't want no fairy shooten me in the butt." I laughed and said. "No buddy is going to shoot you in the butt, but one day you will have a little love arrow shoot you in the heart." Bad choice of words, as you fold to the ground, grabing your chest, with tears pouring down your precious face. I put my arms around you and listened to the sweetest words. "Mommy, can't we just get loved to our heart? I don't want no arrows there either." As I picked you up and let you see how much love I had for you to my heart, I said, "Of course we can". As a mother of this now 22 year old woman, I see we do get arrows in our heart, no matter how we just want love there. Don't let the arrows of love ruin you, the scar that is left can be erased with the Love that will always reside in you. Happy Valentines Day to Jessica, Joey and Matt, My Always Valentines. Love Mom |
You'll always be with me. Not the way I'd like, perhaps, and certainly not in the manner you'd expect. But you will. There's a spot within me that has your mark upon it. And I can't eradicate it- much as I might wish to! by: paulz~dreamingagain I copied the above from a fellow author that reviewed my writing. I really like this poem. How true. The spot is always there, I guess it fades with time, but what a reminder of the wasted years. Like having a big old age spot in the middle of your face. Hey but new love works wonders on imperfections you can't help but having, lol. |
| Make up work- worked 60 hours in the past 5 days (to get this orientation week off) so I am sorry I couldn't write. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Well for all of you that have been following along, today was my first day of orientation. It was the easiest money I every made for doing absolutely nothing, but embrace boredom. I will say that the part on cultural diversity and customer service was actually pretty pleasant. We watched two inspirational videos that gave some suggestions that promote patient satisfaction I know I will use. The video for cultural diversity was great. It was nothing but beautiful music and everything from a word to a short sentence or a quote that promoted acceptance in diversity. Almost made a tear come out of my eye, it was done so well. I really liked some of the sayings so much, that I wrote them down. I feel I have a good attitude in life, but it has been shadowed buy a very heavy weight around my neck. Orientation is the furthering of a process to lift myself up to hirer ground. Not a hirer position, but a higher set of goals I have for my life. I finally decided I didn't like being dragged around with a weight on my neck, so I took it off, so to speak. Actually it is coming off in chunks, so I still have some to go. I took off the job, I let go in November that was an utter burden working for a horrible man. I was attempting to help him open a surgery center, and to make a long story short all he wanted was the set up of the facility and my credentials, he didn't want an administrator. He wanted to run the place as he saw fit, while I would stand before the State and explain the asinine decisions he made. When it finally came to compromising patient care, safety and my integrity as a nurse, I said farewell. I send out my prayers to anyone that attempts to work with this man, as he is beyond help in the ethical department of life. The other major weight has been my relationship. I have suffered in this for a very long time. I know from my writing you can tell I have faith and belief in God. With that you might also guess that God is not big on divorce. Well I finally realized, He isn't big on his children being treated badly either and often opens doors for us that we didn't see. I finally found the door that says, "It is ok to want to be happy. You tried your best and you deserve better." No more holding on to the door of, "Well maybe things could change if we both tried harder." Or the door of "A divorce, Oh how I hate to face this." You know, all the doubting doors, that often if we just opened them we might see it really isn't that hard just to push through them and move to a door that has promise. It doesn't hurt anymore, in fact I feel as though I have a breath of new life. I don't cry anymore when I think of all the years and time spent in this relationship. Life is too short to cry over spilled milk and I am sure as I move on there will be more milk for me, as this milk is way past rotten. I read a book called, 'Who Moved My Cheese." It is a story of 2 little people and 2 little mice. The mice realize very early in the maze of life, that the cheese is gone. What is left is molded and rotten and they move out in search of new cheese. The little people however do not. One is Hem and the other Haw. I am Haw and my husband is Hem. I finally got to the point were I left without him, in search of sustenance, and most importantly my sanity. He however is still at the beginning of the maze, dieing as he holds on to nothing. If you ever get to read this book you should, I read it in one short night. It is written so well, you could read it to a child, but as an adult you can apply it to all things in life from your relationship to your job or your faith in God, any thing. I read this book for the first time in 2004. I believe it was sent it to me via an Angel, named Mary. I kid you not. She was a good friend in the institution I worked at as a manager of an Emergency Department. I was killing myself. I was starving for cheese, as I scurried around in circles attempting to complete the job of at least 4 people. I think one of the most important questions asked in the book was, "What are you afraid of?" I was afraid to let my staff down, as I truly felt that I was the only one that cared about them. I was afraid of failing. I needed to look at leaving as a point of release, vs. failure or not reaching my goal. I still feel that I let my staff down, but I realize that to effectively operate that E.D. my goals were always going to be unreachable. Much like my hopes for this relationship. So if you can't reach your goals, and fulfill your needs, it is most important to re-set your goals. That is the point I am at. Goals are in the works, for me to be happy. One is to be a light to people in anyway I can, even if it is just a kind word for the day. I am growing closer to my children as I am spending more time with them and I find I am less negative these days, as I am not dreading stepping into my house anymore. I realize that in time, he will be gone and seeing him now no longer bothers me as I have a new life of promise for myself. My new job is with a long-term acute care facility. I will spend many days, if not months with my patients. This will give me many things to write about and share and eventually reach my dream of publishing a book that will help the patients and families I care for. I look forward to this adventure and to planning new goals. I look forward to days with rainbows. Skies of change. Warmth of summer... to Autumn winds. Winters of sleek diamonds that shimmer in the light of the moon...to a chilly winters night in front of a fire. Flowers in spring as I hope to be blooming in love by then... All in the context of being with someone to love and share the ups and downs of life in a sane fashion. Until I find that someone, I will enjoy life and all its experiences happily satisfied within myself. |
| Well it is late and I am about ready to pack it in. I worked 12 hours today and about the most eventful thing that happened was I was hit in the head with a 6 foot glass door that fell off the storage cabinet. Yes it was quite alarming, as I am trying to open it and next thing I have the door in my hand as it crashes hitting me in the left side of the forehead. You know sometimes I scare myself, as my mind was thinking, "Ahh!! what is happening, then I am falling back into another cabinet with the door still in my hand as it boops me on the head." As if something just attacked me when more or less I did it to myself, lol. What do I do first? Check to see no one saw this rediculous stunt, dispite my throbbing forhead I didn;t want to chance injuring my pride. The other amusing note for the day was feeding an 87 year old elderly, very little, black woman. She was just precious. She had her wig with her, not on, but with her on the bed. It looked like a little curly poodle cuddled up under her arm. Her scattered corn roles amongst balding head was a beautiful site. I just love the warn faces of my elderly patients, it is like a map of their life. She had not brought her teeth, so breakfast chewing was all gums. I turned at one point to mix up her cereal, to make it softer. I hadn't been turned but maybe 30 seconds and as I look back I find her attempting to eat the foam ear phone covers from her CD player. They were large and round, possibly she thought they were biscuits? She was the pleasant part of my morning and for the most part I had a very nice day. I hope you did too. Night!!!!!!!!!!! Lorrie |
| My brother has a scar over his eyebrow. It is worse then it should be, as it was endured for a price. The price was to save a little handicapped girl. It has been awhile since I thought about youthful times in our family. I think I was 10 when my mother volunteered as a Den mother, for a nearby handicap institution. I was to be her assistant. It was described as, Den mother for boy scouts. We arrived to find a large group of 30 and 40 year old men. Most of them had Down syndrome. I remember looking at my mother, wide eyed, as they came running to us. I think the fact that I was the oldest child, and tough for a girl, I did not shrink behind her skirt. I clearly remember almost being plowed over by one, as he grabbed me and hugged me hello. The orderly pulled his arm and I recall telling him, "That’s O.K. sir, he is just happy is all." No one needed to tell me these men were different, I just knew it and accepted it. I think this came from my up bringing and Gods acceptance of us all through his word. All I could see was the love they had, and that was enough for me to love them back. I realize now what an example my Mother was, of Love and Charity. You don't find people freely giving up an evening a week to spend it with a group of men that have the brain capacity of boys. We would do crafts with them, play games, all the things little boy scouts love. As a child it gave me a feeling of pride to make these poor people happy. It bothered me to think someone gave them away to an institution. At that age, I didn't comprehend the care involved and that some people just can't handle what it takes to care for a special needs person. They were as big as my Dad, some with facial hair and they would come running, "Miss Lorrie, Miss Chris we are so happy to see you!" All I saw, were little boys in big bodies. The only part I didn't like was the drooling. Sometimes they would talk so close, or would be so excited it was like having a shower on your face. We didn't have hand sanitizer in those days, so my Mom would always stop at the bathroom to wash us off. We would both just smile and I knew we were thinking, "Yuck, but didn't it make them happy!" We also played a silly little game, sort of like secret agents as we left. I would stand at the post, the door. Mom would go to the station wagon and check to see we were free of any boy scouts trying to sneak in the car, to ride home with us. Once the car was clear, I would walk backwards to the car, like an army man. Checking all the time that none tried to hide behind me. Mom would open the door, I'd slam it quick and we would both give a big, "Whew, we made it!" Finishing the night with a laugh and an 'all clear' ride home. Our days with the boy scouts lasted about a year, before we took in an 8 year old Down syndrome little girl to foster in our family. Her mother had just died of cancer, her father was in prison, her grandmother too old, and her siblings too young to care for her needs. Maureen was a special light in our lives. She came to us infested with lice, in need of open-heart surgery and since her mother’s death, she had pretty much cared for herself getting bread from a drawer to eat. She was feisty and stubborn on one hand, and then loving like a little baby on the other. The first day with us she busted my brothers forehead open with a metal Tonka truck. He didn't tell my parents for fear they would send her back. My other brothers helped him hid it by scotch taping it and bandaging the wound closed. He still has the scar to remember her by and I would think he wears it with pride. Maureen lived and loved with us for about four years. She then was adopted into a home with three other Down syndrome children. We still check on her to this day. She is in her 30's now, works as a bagger in a grocery store and is very happy in her family. I share this as I was thinking of my brother’s scar today. He took that scar, to save a little girl he knew needed us. That was a big gesture coming from a little boy that was only 7 at the time. Mom and Dad did something right to have produced children that truly cared about people less fortunate then themselves and created kids that were willing to sacrifice for the needs of others. Some memories are just too good to keep for yourself. Share the ones you loved, so someone else can smile along with you. Life is better that way. |
| Lets think back to things we laughed about that obviously were not funny, but we just couldn't help ourselves. I have got a few. If you have any you would like to share please reply to this post. The Forking (True Story) (This contains some Adult subject matter) First I must preface this with the knowledge that this occurred late one night in the E.D. I was working with a fellow nurse who would try to catch me off guard and cause me to laugh, at the most inappropriate time. Sometimes when you get tired, even nurses get silly like that. Most times I was good, and could anticipate what was coming and get around an outburst. This night, I was not so lucky. To start off the scenario a Pee Wee Herman type E.M.T. (Goofy, yet very serious about his report) comes to the desk. Excuse me ladies; I have a very delicate situation to report here. Sharon takes one look at him, and already I see her devious smile. He starts to rattle on about the time of the call, and I hear both patients are stable as I see the first patient role through the door. It is a young man, all dressed up in a suit, moaning and holding his groin area while lying on his side. My eyebrows wrinkle as I think, what the heck is wrong with him? I hear Sharon saying, Lorrie you got to hear this one. The door opens again and there is a second patient, a young lady. She is also moaning and holding her bloody head. As she goes past me I see symmetrical puncture wounds all over her forehead. Not big ones, tiny little ones that make a pattern of a short line. I have no idea what this is all about, so I went to Pee Wee and Sharon to hear the report. Pee Wee proudly and without a smile reports, "Subject number one was having a dining experience with subject number two. Apparently subject number two was providing fellatio to subject number one, while under the dining table. At such time subject number two proceeded to have a seizure. This has caused the multiple lumps and laceration to the top of her head. I looked confused and said, "What happened to her forehead, where there nails under the table too?" He stiffly answered back, "No Mame, that would be from the forking commenced by subject number one, as he attempted to get her off of his manhood." I just couldn't hold back, a really loud 'BLAH' came out of my mouth! I immediately covered my mouth. Between the report this guy was giving, which I actually thought was funnier then the incident, and Sharon I didn't want to chance another outburst from myself. Sharon was turning red, like a beet, holding her breath to stop the laughter. She bent under the desk were only I could see her, so Pee Wee had no clue she was rolling with laughter. Pee Wee was not impressed with my BLAH comment either. I apologized, telling him, "I am sorry, but I never saw a forking before." Again, my innocent forking comment encouraged Sharon to continue laughing so hard she had to crawl away from the desk, on the floor, to the utility room. Thank God the patients didn't hear any of this. Needless to say this was an experience that I will never forget. My advice would be if planning this type of dining experience, plan ahead if seizure prone. A forking is one sorry thing to go around explaining post the fact. She must have had 40 fork pronge marks all over her forehead. Plastic cutlery, spoons preferably may be advisable. |
| I got an e-mail the other day titled, "20 things to do to keep your sanity." So I thought I would try one. I happened to roar with laughter over the first one, so I thought that is the one for me. You might not think this was a dangerous venture, I sure didn't. Well my luck, a police man would spoil my fun. Number one encouraged the following: Sit in your car with sun glasses on and point a blow dryer at on coming traffic, see what reaction you get. Now I don't know what you think about that idea, but I thought it was quite funny. I thought it would be better if I dressed in my P.J's with my bathrobe and wore a shower cap to go along with the whole bathroom theme, blow dryer and all. I set myself up on St Georges Avenue. This is a busy street with a route number, so there are trucks delivering as well as auto traffic non stop. I was sure to catch a speeder here. In this area of New Jersey, no one is known for keeping the speed limit, so I anticipated getting many slowing reactions. Plus, if they actually noticed my getup I was sure to make someone laugh. I brought along a snack, some milk and powdered donuts. My first culprit was a young teen, with music blaring, I could hear him coming for blocks. Oh and I forgot to tell you, it is January and I had my windows down and the roof open; so I could really hear and they could surely notice me in my car. This guy is revving his engines at the light unaware that about 2 blocks down the road I am waiting, blow dryer in hand. He hits about 50 in seconds as he approaches my car. I stick the blow dryer out the window and to my astonishment he hits the brakes. I surely hadn't expected that response. Little did I know a police officer was already on his trail as he had passed him the block prior, already above the speed limit. The drastic braking of the car caused the young man to fish tale and almost hit a parked car, while causing the police officer to have to brake avoiding hitting this young man. I choked on the donut, spitting powdered sugar all over my black bathrobe. I was panicked thinking, should I continue to sit here or take off saving myself the embarrassment of explaining what the hell I was doing in my present garb, equipped with a blow dryer on St Georges Avenue. Too late to get out of this one. Red lights go on, I hear Whoop, Whoop as the young man pulls in front of me with the cop car following behind him. I am trying to smile at the officer, as he glares at me through his rear view mirror. Now in the moments, that seemed like hours, to follow I talked to myself. I really didn't do anything wrong. Hey, we can all dress however we want and there is no law about having a blow dryer in your car right? Wrong. There is nothing wrong with it, unless the police officer thinks your nuts! He gets out of the car, first going to the young man. My heart is pounding as I hear him ask for his drivers license and registration. The boy is trying to reach for everything while saying, "Sir, I'm really sorry I swerved like that, it's just I didn't realize I was going that fast. And then that lady, I don't know what she is doing but I thought she was pointing a weapon at me. Sir, I am really sorry. I mean it. My Dad is going to kill me if I get a ticket." The policemen's response. Well son, I can't help what trouble you got yourself into today, but I will tell you one thing; I will be sure to check her out for a weapon. A weapon! I am thinking to myself. It is a BLOW DRYER. With that he looks my way and nods, "OK lady your next." He tells the boy to remain in his car as he gets on his radio asking for backup. Backup? What does he need backup for? He approaches my car, at which time I realize I still have the stupid shower cap on. I remove the cap as he states, "License and registration please." I stammer, "Oh officer you don't need my license. I didn't do anything wrong." He puts his clip board at his side, lowers his glasses and states, "Listen Mame, I don't know what you're doing. I see what looks like white powder all over you. You have bathroom garb on and you're pointing a blow dryer at cars that are approaching you. Please, tell me what I am supposed to think?" I smiled and nervously replied the first thing to come to mind, "Impersonating a Bathroom Cop Lady, I think." I heard the words come out of my mouth. I knew they made no sense, I even made a face, like... "Yes, I am nuts Sir." Well lets just say, he didn't think my response was funny and warranted a mental health evaluation. His backup arrived and I had a little friendly visit to the emergency room, to assure I had all my senses and was safe to let drive home. Ah, the price for sanity. Lets just say I left the other 19 alone. I think funnier still, must be the entry I left on this officers list of the nuttiest experiences during the line of duty. |
| Ok, if you read the introduction to my blog this is the section to put your work. I am looking for anything you feel like sharing. Possibly you have a life experience, or yourself are disabled and had something help you through your roughest hour? Family, friends that can relate, your experience or whatever helped you through your pain, share that as well. I invision spliting this book up into many sections. I will most likely leave some blank pages in the book to be used as a journal for the patient or the family. I would also like suggestions for things the family can do for the patients room. Helpful Family and Friends Ideas: For example: 1. Create a picture collage. With a caption or something written to the person for each person on the collage. 2. A poster of some of the things this person was most proud of in life. Something that can be held up and viewed and added to it if they are able. 3. A game you know, that can be played when you are limited in movement. 4. Mind teasers. Something that will make you think and use your brain to come up with an answer. Riddles? What ever you add will be considered. And again, thank you, for in your sharing you will be helping someone in need. Lorrie |
| Today I took care of a hemipalegic patient. He only had partial use of his arms post a cerebral bleed and brain surgery. What a sad existence at the age of 54, living this way for almost the last 10 years. To make things worse, he is normally alert and oriented and able to talk. I received him unresponsive with agonal respirations and barely a gag reflex. This indicates his airway is in jeopardy, so he needed to be intubated. Intubation is placing an E.T. Tube (Endotracheal Tube) through the mouth, vocal cords and into the trachea. A balloon is then inflated to keep the tube in your lungs. This is very uncomfortable. The tube is connected to a breathing machine called a ventilator. The machine breathes for you at a set rate. Of course you can breath more, but it will only give you what ever it is set at. I would think I would sit there counting waiting for my next breath. That alone would make me go batty. Now imagine this. You can only partially move your arms. You cannot talk now, as a tube is preventing your speech. You have aspiration pneumonia, which means something food, secretions, something was sucked back into the lungs causing pneumonia. As if that isn't bad enough, you have a bed sore and I come in and place a catheter in your penis and a nasogastric through your nose, sinuses then throat to your stomach all why you are unconscious. This is an awful mess of tubes, wires; intravenous, horrible artery sticks from the respiratory therapist to check the oxygen level in your blood. To top it all off before waking he had a seizure. So we medicate you to stop the seizure. He finally woke up about 6 hours after arriving in the E.D. to what I would imagine feels like torture. I wrote about this today as I prepare to move on to a full time job in a long-term acute care facility. This means that many of these patients are on long-term ventilators. Some are quadriplegic; some are just end stage respiratory cases that cannot get off a ventilator. I was thinking what could I do for someone like this man on a daily basis. Caring for someone like this for 12 hours is one thing, but day after day I know me. I will have to do more then just go in and give custodial care. So I was thinking about Story Time. As an adult I sit here on WDC and I enjoy reviewing and reading stories and so must these poor people entombed in their body with a brain that is often still working. I think what I will do is search through, and contact Authors, that have up lifting stories, poems etc and I will provide story time each day I care for my long term patients. They say the last thing to go is your hearing. So even if they cannot let me know that they hear me I will make it a part of my routine care anyway. Possibly I could even involve the family and start some type of small storybook that I could leave with them, so who ever visits could also spend time sharing with them. So I ask that if any of you find anything you would like to include, please send it my way. |
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