Letter to my brother.

On December 9th, 2011, my brother Roger died at home after suffering from a brief illness followed by a heart attack. He was 34 yrs old. It was extremely sudden and very traumatic for my whole family. My parents had found him in the bathroom, on the floor. He was already gone. It's been a difficult few months, to say the least. And each of us have been dealing with the pain and sadness in our own way. Writing is one of my coping mechanisms.


Dear Roge,

 I know it seems like a really crazy idea to write you a letter. Well, among all my "ideas" that I have had over the course of my life, this one seems pretty tame. I think it all started because Zach told me that he sent you an email. He said there were just things he wanted to tell you. Things he wanted to say and it seemed like the best way to get that all out. I could probably write you every day for weeks and I would really never tell you all that I wanted to. At least I am starting somewhere.

 I suppose it's one of those moments that will never leave me. That moment, on Dec 9th when I knew that you had died. The sound of mom's voice on the phone. What she said. Trying to understand the words. How I started to feel like I couldn't breathe.There was hole in my chest. I sat on my kitchen floor and said "ohmygod. ohmygod ohmygod" about a thousand time. My head on my knees, rocking back and forth. Trying to use the phone to call for help for myself. Lost. Totally lost as a person. For quite possibly the first time in my life...I didn't know what to do. Knowing that everything was going to change. Forever. That point where we need to start talking about you in the past tense. Where you won't always be 4 years younger than me anymore, rather you would stay 34 forever and Marty and I would move ahead...without you. All those pictures where 5' me had to stand in the middle of you and Marty with your 6+ feet of height, so the photo wouldn't look off balance. Now it's just me and Marty.


 And I am sorry but I wish I had never seen you in the ER that day. The day you left me. Zach wanted to go in...and you know he couldn't handle it. He couldn't stay. But I just couldn't let mom see you alone. But I really wish I didn't see you like that. You had been sick, and your beard was terrible. That crazy Hoeft hair growth. One week of not shaving and I could hardly recognize you. As dumb as it sounds, I was hoping that there would be some last minute miracle. They mixed you up. Confused you with the dude down the hall who is asking for me. It's wasn't the day for a miracle for me. So far from it.

 You still had the ET tube in and your eyes weren't all the way closed. The bright lights. The stupid hospital gown. So many pieces of medical things in the room, surrounding you, that I touch and work with every day of my life. They seemed so foreign to me that day. The whole place was ugly and harsh. It took so many nights (and so many xanax) before that wasn't the last thing I saw before I fell asleep every night, or even just randomly flashing through my head at inconvenient moments. Now it's just now and then, but I know it will never really leave me. I wanted to just sit down on that floor and just fade into it. I wanted to be anyone, anywhere, at anytime other than there. I wanted my alarm to go off and it just to be a nightmare. I wanted to know what to say or do or how to act. I wanted to make it all fit and make sense, even though I knew it never would.

 But mom couldn't live through that alone. She was drowning in sadness. Someone needed to stand next to her as she talked to you, touched your hands and kissed your forehead. I thought she would just collapse into the pain that that moment. And who could blame her? That time in the hospital was so strange...it seemed to last forever and then also to be just a blink. I made my phone calls like a robot. Calling everyone that mom called out to me. Calling work...and scaring myself with how calm I was sounding. Scaring them, too. The lists of things to do rattled through my brain. When was I working next? How was Marty going to get here in time? How was I going to do this? All the questions pounding me one after another. Really what I should have been thinking is...how the hell am I still able to stand up or even just breathe?

 The roller coaster of that day was exhausting:

 Talking to dad on the phone, like I had done a million times before and but this time I had to deliver horrible news to him. Unimaginable news. Hearing him break up and fade off the phone as I hung up. Knowing he was sitting at home all alone and dissolving into tears.

 Then talking to Marty. Hearing his voice, knowing he was swimming in sadness and his mental list growing every minute. Trying to get home to us as fast as possible.

 Telling the kids when they got off the bus. They had gone off to school like it was any other, typical day. Coming home to the world turned upside down and painfully different.

 Picking out your clothes for the funeral home and planning your wake and funeral. As I looked for your shirt and pants...I just sat in your chair in your room and cried. Not gasping, sobbing tears anymore. I didn't have the strength anymore...but slow, quiet absurd tears that just wouldn't stop. You know how much I hate crying in front of people. Had to break that rule a lot in those following days. Except trying not to cry in front of mom or dad...because I couldn't add to their hurt anymore. Feeling that full, pounding-in-my-chest pain, over and over.

And I kept thinking back to the days before. I talked to you on Tuesday. I knew you were sick but I wanted to tell you something about someone we knew. You made some dry jokes and you were off the phone in no time. Mom had told me that you were sick for a few days, and that you didn't want to go to the hospital. You always had a cold or the flu...something nagging you constantly. How was I to know this was different? Part of me has to live with the fact that I am a highly skilled ICU nurse...and I didn't come see you and assess you. Maybe I would have seen something. Maybe you would have listened to me instead of mom. Maybe I would have just taken over and gotten you to the hospital. Don't think I don't hate myself a little bit for that. Even though I rationalize it all. I know that this ending could have come just as easily in a hospital. I know all of that...but I didn't even try. My own brother and I didn't even walk in your room and do a basic exam of you. What the hell good as all my skills at that point? To save strangers and not my own family? I can walk into a hospital room and know exactly what the problem is and exactly how to fix it....but didn't fix this. And I know that you don't blame me. I know that with my whole heart. Still, it will be a hurt and an disappointment in myself that I will live with forever.

 I keep thinking back to a conversation we had once...a long time ago, when you were having trouble and in the hospital in Detroit. I think I said something like: "What the hell, you asshole! Are you trying to kill yourself!?!?" and you said "Ohh, are we going to talk like that?? Bitch. (pause) Shit, Heidi. I'm sorry. I can't even say that to you. I am sorry"

 I have always told everyone that I never fought with you. Not one day, one time, in our entire life together. The kids never believe me. Siblings always fight, right? I would always said "Ask Uncle Roge. He will tell you the same thing" That just wasn't the kind of relationship we had. Well, it just wasn't the kind of person you were. A lot of that credit goes to you, not to me. You can ask Marty.

When I think about last year, with how sick mom was...and how there is no way I could have done that alone...I start to cry a little. What if I have to do that again...and you aren't here? What if I can't do it all? What if I need you...no...when I need you...what will I do? The answer to that overwhelms me. It makes me panic a little inside. There's so much more to this that I keep deep, in a private part of my heart and the good thing is...you already know all of it. I don't have to try and put words or feelings to it. You just...know. Even if I can't understand any of these feeling myself...you get it. I will never really be done "writing you a letter" It is a constant dialog.

Forever it will be the reminder of an inside joke here and there. It's a smell from our youth. A random thought about us dividing up your Star Wars action figures, which took so long in negotiations that we never really played. And you always let me have what I wanted, even if I tried to hid it from you. You knew me that well. I remember holding you for the first time on that green and white, horrible 70's style couch. I couldn't even stand to look at you until mom asked if I wanted to hold the baby...and then it was love. I remember every cast you wore. Summer nights on Chesterfield. Winter walks home from St Al's in a blizzard. Being excited to share a new album with me. "I like the Fresh Prince, Heidi. But have you heard Run-DMC?? Now that's IT!" Dancing the the kitchen when mom and dad were at work and we were making dinner for ourselves. Bonfires at Babcia's. Family vacations. Teasing Marty into believing Freddie Kruger was at his window. Proud moments when you told people that you were glad to spend time with me again, like we had so much last year. My heart so happy when you said how you had missed hanging out with me and that if one good thing came from mom being sick all those months...that it was the time we had together. You weren't the best at expressing how you felt. You kept a lot inside, so hearing that made me so happy. Because I KNEW you loved me and you thought I was interesting enough to spend time with.

 I remember how good you were to my kids. They love you so much. They always will. No one is like Uncle Roge. My kids always disappeared into your room the first chance they got...because you were so damn cool. And they just wanted to be close to that for a little while. I love that you appreciated Sam and his quirks and that you saw some of yourself in him. Like me, they miss you every single day. Several times a day. I remember that really...you were my first friend. and I was yours.

 Believe me, I remember all the bad along with the good. One thing I loved about you is that you were always so honest about yourself. You knew all your faults. All those years of struggling..for you and for all of us who had to watch you and live our lives around you. I am sorry that you felt all that pain inside. That you struggled just to feel 'normal'. And I am annoyed that depression took so many years away from you and prevented you from enjoying your life more. You fought for so many years. I know it must have been exhausting. I can only imagine.

 I just don't want to dwell on those hard time, because that is not who you were. Even when you hit the very bottom of the blackest bottom...you were always kind and quiet and just...sad. I think that is why it hurt us so much to watch those years go by. And you pushed passed them and got better...some days were better than others. I think in the back of my mind I always thought it would be one of those demons that would take you away from me...and it was sometime much more real and medical.

 I haven't really gotten to that anger stage yet. I don't know if I will. I am too sad, too hurt to even consider it. Is it stupid that some element in your blood was low and it caused you to have a heart attack at 34 yr old? It's totally STUPID. But it happens every day. Sure, I could be mad at potassium or human physiology. Is that worth the effort? Not really? Things happen for a reason, right? This better have one HUGE good reason. I could be mad God, I suppose. But I don't feel that either. I don't know why. I can't explain it...I just am not.

 And I mad at you for leaving? For not taking better care of yourself...maybe a little but I think I am just much more sad and scared. And I think that is more of about who you were. Anger wasn't part of you. You were docile and quiet and I rarely saw you mad. So, I guess, it just isn't an emotion that I think about in connection to you. It was hard to be mad at you or if that ever happened, I never stayed mad at you.

 This was just how the story goes in our case. It's certainly not the way I wanted it to go. I just have to figure out how to keep you close to me and also to move ahead without you. It just seems impossible. I know it will take time, more tears and more crazy letters to you. I go through days like it didn't even happen. I think of something I want to ask you or tell you...and then it just smacks me back down to earth. I know that I am just in the beginning of this. Just starting to put the pieces together and make my way through it. It isn't the hot searing pain of a few months ago. Today it isn't more smoldering, underlying. Always there and ready to take my breath away at any moment.

I don't have to say that I love you. You know it. You always have. I know that send me things along my way, to help get me through. The exact song I need to hear, at the exact perfect moment. The flash of a childhood memory that makes me smile from the inside out. A random smile on a stranger when I feel like I am going to start crying in the middle of the grocery store. I know that you are never really far away from me. I just have to listen a little harder and pay attention a little more. But you are there.

The post I never, ever wanted to write

There's been a halt to the writing here, and not for lack of wanting to. Not for lack of material. Not for any reason that I could have foreseen.

Simply put there has been a tragedy in my family: On Dec 9th, 2011 my 34 year old brother suddenly, very unexpectedly died.

My brother died.

Those words don't seem real, even though I have said them many times over the last month. Well, that isn't entirely true. Sometimes they seem real and heavy and overwhelming. And sometimes they feel like I am saying them about someone else's life.

It's only been a month and trying to sort out all of those feelings is still impossible.

My brother was born when I was 4 years old. He was my first friend and I was his. He was a person with whom I shared a history that no one else will ever understand. We were so different in so many, many ways and oddly similar in others.
(One year while we were living at opposite ends of the state, we both bought our mom a Mother's Day card with the same joke, different cartoon...but the same punch line.)

I could write so much more. I am trying to find that line, where I have the right reaction. Did you ever feel that way? That endless loop of "Am I sad enough?", "Am I too sad?", "Am I just feeling sorry for myself" , "Should I be able to just get over this?", and "what the hell does this mean for the rest of my whole, entire life?"

Thing is...there is no right reaction. There is no right way to act or think. I am finally getting that through my head. You know, after I did all the things I needed to do. I did all the tasks on the list that needed to be done in the time between hearing my mom's voice telling my brother was dead and then all those sad, exhausting days following. And then the holidays ran up over me and now I finally have a few of those quiet days where I can begin to grieve and figure out how I am going to move through the days with this feeling of sadness. Funny how sometimes it is the furthest thing from my mind and then there are moments when I think I will never be able to shake off the crushing hurt.

Anyway, this isn't going to be become some blog where I write endless sad posts. Just sometimes. :-)
I will be back on the normal writing soon enough. I will be faking it until I can make it.

Just may take me some time. I am sure you understand.

Blog Challenge: Day 3

I decided to go with two lists for blog this bog challenge, because some of the topics bored me or were just not really the type of thing I would write about to the general public. My choices for today were:
A.What kind of person attracts you
or
B. Write about your first love.

Well...I am going to take the MUCH safer road of topic A! It lends itself to far less embarrassment. Someday, kind readers, perhaps you will know all my deep, dark secrets. Today is NOT that day.

Let's see. I am a nurse. As a general population we are freaky people who are attracted to and attached to broken people. Listen, I know several of my friends will be offended by that term but they need to get over it. Partly it's my fault as well. I always want to 'fix' people and so I think in someway I draw them out. It's probably a pheromone signature in my DNA. A gift from genetics, yet again. (I said that with a really big eye roll..lest you think I was serious.)

Anyway, in terms of men I think I only need two things...intelligence and the ability to make me laugh. That sounds like some crappy dating website answer, but for me it's true enough. I like a challenge. I want to have crazy conversations about current events. I want to fight about Jeopardy answers. It keeps me from being bored. I didn't marry the class valedictorian for nothing, people.

Good lord, so much easier than 'my first love'.

whew.

Blog Challenge: Day 2

So getting to Day Two only took me 5 days. I told you I made no promises. I knew I would suck at the whole deadline thing.
Here we go:

How have you changed in the past 2 years?

You mean besides creeping closer to (BLECH) 40? Besides needing to have my hair dyed more frequently and making sure I rub Oil of Olay on my "trouble areas" every night?

eh. Wow, this one took me some time to really think through. Who really stops and looks back at themselves and does an evaluation? Ok, maybe some of you do. I am just not that kind of person. You are all better than me, I admit it. I am lucky that I know my work schedule from week to week and that I make it out of the house with semi-matching socks.

More and more over the last two years I have become a 'big picture' person. Certain stressing events have happened over the last two or so years which have changed my view...or made it widen, at the least.

Without going into ridiculous detail, I realize that things happen beyond our control and all we can do is let it roll along, fall off the table and gather up the pieces and try to glue them back together into a decent looking vase...errr...life.

That isn't to say that I don't freak out over little things, cry in the shower every now and again and pout when I can't have what I want when I want it because I am such a totally balanced person, who believes it all works out in the end. Frick, no. However, when the day (or crisis) is done I can see the whole thing settling out and I can find away to take those hideous, jagged pieces I am given...and make them fit. Hell, I jam them into place when I need to. I am small, but scrappy. I learned I am resilient and a better problem solver than I gave myself credit for in the past. And I actually learned that I trust myself as a parent and even as a nurse more then I had ever before.

Sounds easy, but I wasn't always so philosophical. Some days I am STILL not. But in general, I am more grounded, more secure in my own ability to handle crisis and much more empathetic to my fellow man after living through my own. You know everyone has their own piles of crap that they shovel, step around and clean up all the time.

God, I hope the Day Three doesn't take me as long to write and I hope it is a buttload easier!

Blog Challenge: Day 1

Day 1: Introduce, recent picture of yourself, 15 interesting facts.

I suppose I have to start somewhere. Even if it sounds lame.

Hi, my name is Heidi. I am a blogger. Sort of. Not really. Only a little.

I am:
A mom of three boys (19, 15, 9)
an ICU nurse.
wife.
car dancer.
Photoshop user.
stubborn.
closet romantic.
closet poet.
smartphone obsessed.
insomniac.
fairly ridiculous.

Facts about myself?
1. Good God, I hate olives. Like really, really hate. I can't even handle the smell. I keep trying them every few years to see if my tastes change...they NEVER do.

2. I really don't enjoy Winnie the Pooh. Those books were dreadfully boring. The Disney versions weren't that much better.

3. The 'whites' of my eyes are blue due to a genetic bone disease I have called Osteogenesis imperfecta. Makes my bones more breakable than 'normal' people. Who really wants to be normal anyway? I break bones. I heal. I live.

4. I try to hide it, but I am a pretty much a book nerd. I read more than almost anyone I know. I converted to the Kindle recently. That only made it worse.

5. My family nickname is Ida. My great grandma couldn't say 'Heidi' and every time she tried, it came out sounding like 'Ida'. It's my mom's favorite way to get my attention...'IDA'!!

6. The only time I ever got into a car accident ( well, I backed into a parked car) the guy sent ME flowers. For being so honest and probably because when I found him to tell him, I was sobbing. He felt bad for me.

7. I hate whistling. It makes me sick to my stomach. BLECH.

8. I am addicted to Diet Pepsi Wild Cherry.

9. I take a photo...of something...anything...just about every single day. If I could be anything at all, it would be a photographer.

10. I have a weakness for violins in rock songs. That song could SUCK...throw in a violin and I am sold. I think it all goes back to my love of Buddy Holly. He was the innovator of orchestra music mixed with a little rock-n-roll.

11. Several of my best friends are ones I have known since kindergarten or thereabouts. I went to a really small Catholic school and graduated 8th grade with 21 in my class. Those people mean the world to me.

12. I have been in 38 of the 50 states. I LOVE New Mexico and Utah the most of the ones I have seen.

13. I remember almost ALL of the dialog I hear in movies and TV shows. It's freaky and I am sure if you are around me...it can be annoying. I try to reign it in.

14. I have a TERRIBLE potty mouth. The more I try to get a handle on it, it more I swear. It's a sickness.

15. I have worn hearing aids for almost 5 years now. My stupid bone disease ( see above) has effected the bones in my ears and made me lose a great deal of my hearing at a 'young' age. I am annoyed that I have to wear them but then also happy that there is something available to help me out and that I don't have a worse ailment. It rarely effects my day to day life. And when I do sleep...no noise wakes me up. You win some. You lose some.

Ok. Day one...done. Let's see how badly I mess this up and how many days I skip. Hey, maybe I will surprise myself! HA!

Back to the blog!

It's not like I haven't been thinking about writing. I have. And I just need to get back to doing it. I know that usually I am the one who put the PRO in procrastination, but I am hoping to change all of that...soon.

I am taking on a "blog challenge" of sorts. I have two lists of topics and I will *try* to write on one every single day, which with my work schedule is HILARIOUS! On those work days when I am up at 5am, out the door by 6am and come home, starving and wrung out like a used washcloth, the last thing I am ever going to want to do is to write. One those days I will give myself a break. Don't judge me!

I know that I have all of about 4 readers on this blog( I think it is less but I don't want to sound overly pathetic just yet) and it will be such a miracle that I wrote ANYTHING that I am sure a day of two "off" won't phase a soul.

sigh.

Back to writing!

That "little" break

Damn. Who even knew I had a blog still?
I guess I have to try to force myself to write something other than a kid's note for school or a Facebook update or 140 character Twitter update. I even suck at Twitter for the most part. I am going to blame it on my adult onset ADD again.

Believe me, is not like I don't have a plethora of topics to write about...I do, I just have to find more than 20 mins to string together to make some sense of a jumble of sentences I have on notepad.

Well, since I wrote last...I broke my wrist pretty badly ( GREAT excuse..no?) I have been to Europe, my youngest broke his arm quite horribly and about 1,000 other every day life events have kicked my ass up and down the street.

I have to sift through my "drafts" folder, which is a mess of half written ideas and nonsense.

For my 3 or 4 readers..I am here! I swear!
I will not promise posts...but my intentions are so good!
And maybe I will feel inspired. you never know!

Before the "joy" of the season

So, I figured before the joys of the holiday season pick me up and throttle me to within an inch of my life, I should write something here. I know that most of my occasion blog readers think I have abandoned this project altogether...but Au contraire, mon frère! I am here, just having a difficult time sitting still long enough to write, or let my adult onset ADD subside long enough to make a single, continuous thought possible. And I know that when I actually get myself into "holiday hustling" this will be impossible. I have already stopped and started writing this 3 times already...in about 15 mins . Oye! My world for a ritalin!

Sam and school...please allow room for an edit after parent-teacher conference tonight. School seems to really going well this year. And I can't tell you how grateful I am for that, I could not endure another year like last year. I don't think he could either. Writing is still an issue with him, but the mix of maturity and more attention in the classroom everything else seems to be going well. We still have to work on his "internal edit button", when he calls his substitute teacher incompetent and such, but we are getting there. :)

Adam and I have traveled to Colorado for my cousin's beautiful wedding in September. I will attempt to post some pictures soon. I had an epic computer crash last month and although I don't think I lost much in terms of data, it has been a long and slow process to get my machine and my pictures in order. Back up your photos and documents, people! PLEASE! I had just moved several things to an external hard drive, only days before. I actually am such a freak that I back things up TWICE and store the other hard drive to keep it from harm. And I have a firebox for it. Freak...yes. Lost pictures and Photoshop goodies...no!

Work has been a joy. Oh yes. Precautions for H1N1 patients ( we have had several) are a pain in my ass. I am on the verge of constant face break-out from wearing a mask every day I work. That is not to mention all the call-ins from co-workers who are sick or have loved ones that are sick, leaving us short staffed most days. This is just a horrible season for illness. The thought of those long 13hr days is just not so much appealing anymore. ( ok, it never was appealing, but still, now less so)

So I am pushing through the season, because it is what I do. I have not found my writing mojo yet. Still looking for it under my comfy sheets of my bed. Maybe I need a vacation? Like a REAL one. Alone.

Dream on, Heidi!!

when your kid is smarter than you...

Listen, I am not even gonna make excuses. I am a terrible blogger. I will just deal with that fact.
So...a funny Sammy story to pass along. ( actually I have MANY in the wings, they will make it here...someday)

The other night when I was at work, Adam made dinner and served it to the boys. Adam made the ultimate faux pas and served Sammy vegetables on his plate.

Sam yells out "Heeeeey!!!"

Adam says "Hey is for horses"

Sam looks at him and says "ummm...did you think I spelled it with an A??"

Really? How can you argue with a kid that is smarter than you?

Time flies...but it wasn't all fun.

I can't believe I remembered how to get to this blog or (God forbid!) log in! Damn. Has it really been since May that I posted? What the hell have I been doing!?!?

Ahh...too many things to find the time to blog apparently. Let's sum it up, shall we?


The school year just about did me in last year. I think much of my stress and anxiety about that overwhelmed me and made it hard for me to sit still and write or even justify the time to myself to write here.

Sammy was finally diagnosed with Asperger's this spring. Fighting our way through the school system was insane and we finally got a meeting with the board on June 5th. I wish I could type how I was feeling at that meeting in all CAPS for you...the director actually said to me "well, if this happened earlier in the school year, we would think about moving him. But since it is June will will leave him in his current class"

BREATH.

DUDE! ARE YOU KIDDING ME!!?!?! I have had that kid into doctors and to see therapists since October 5th. WTF!?!

I was calm. I was rational even when I thought about reaching across the table to smack that man upside his head.

But...I digress.

We opted to place Sammy into a 12-1-4 classroom. 12 students. 1 teacher. 4 aides. All the children in that class are on the autism spectrum of some sort. Some are non-verbal. Some are like Sam. ( though I doubt ANYONE is quite like Sam). We are really hopeful that this situation will be less stressful for him...and us!

Here is Sam this year, on the first day of school. Not happy, but trying to look it for me anyway. :D


So many more pictures and summer fun to report on...and I am not promising anything! But I do have great intentions and I will try to get my butt back in here to write more. Adam and I are excited to head to my cousin's wedding in Colorado in a few weeks and the leaves are already changing there. Can't wait to work out the new camera and hopefully share! :D

Dear Elizabeth...nurse-to-be

So I get a very nice comment from a new nurse-to-be and she asked if I had any advice for her. Oh baby...do I ever.

I will not day something trite and stupid like so many others will tell you. Like "get out now" and "were you crazy for taking nursing" I hate it when people say that crap. If they hated it so much..they should leave. And what kinda way is the to welcome anyone into the field?? Personally, I wanna retire someday and I would like there to be bright, down-to-earth decent people taking care of me and mine when I do.

And that is not to say I love my job with some starry-eyed passion. Frig no. Not every day...not most days even. But I don't hate it. I am somewhere in the middle. You just have to see it for what it is. You have to know you are not going to change the world...but you might make one person's life or death a bit easier. You might smile at just the right time...You might catch a problem that everyone else over-looked...You might just have enough sleep, caffeine and neurons firing to keep someone alive...and you might let someone die when and how they need to.

Let me just say that some days will SUCK. I mean really, really suck. You will walk off the floor and cry all the way home. I hate to tell you that, but you will. Be happy about those days, they mean you are human. Far to many days will go by when you feel like you suck for being "heartless" and letting death and pain be a part of your normal day. You can't take on the day if you cry with every person. You will not get through it.

You will feel like you know nothing. I feel like that some days after 15 years of this career. Asking questions is your best bet. I still do...every day. It might take you about a year in the ICU to feel like you are not gonna faint when you get report and head into your patient's room for the first time. There will be days when you work all day to keep someone alive only for them to die 10 mins before your shift ends.

However, it gets better. So, so much better. You will feel (semi) competent soon enough. You will meet amazing people. My co-workers are some of the best people I ever met. You will develop a very strange sense of humor. And you will be the lifeline for many people.

All of it will work together to be a part of who you are...a nurse. God, I wanna shed that sometimes. So many times I don't want to think like a nurse. I want to NOT look at the guy in the grocery store and admire his veins for an IV. I want to not hear a cough and start diagnosing it in my mind. I don't want to have my kid complain of a headache and I am thinking CAT scans and ICP drains. But I never will stop. It is who I am. Who you will be.

It is a great adventure, my friend. The trip may be bumpy and filled with bodily fluids, but it is worth it. ( though maybe I am just saying that because I don't have to work tonight. hehehehehe) I hope you love it, Elizabeth.

Good luck!

Poor sad blog...

I figured I need to get in here and write SOMETHING...anything before I decide to never return. Which I am sure many of my "regular" readers have done...given up on me. But, No! I will be back and blogging pretty darn soon. Work has taken a much more "normal" schedule and school is almost out for the boys. THANK GOD!! I am so ready for them to be on summer vacation. I am one of those "weird" moms that loves them to be home with me. I am sick of permission slips, homework checks, notes from teachers, trips to school, and just about every damn thing that is related to school. Enough!

So I didn't go away and forget you, oh Blogsphere! I am planning my return. I swear. Really this time. No. I mean it. Really.

You are just gonna have to check back and see. ;-)

Quite a bit

Yup, quite a bit off my "game". My writing is not coming easily like it used to, my brain is all jumbled and I can't quite seem to sort it out into a cohesive paragraph.

It happens. Often. I think of all the things I wanna say and just can't get it out. Plus, I have so many things I wanna share about work, but I have to do it in a generic and safe way as to not be too specific with patients or situations. After I try to figure out what to say, how to say it, and all that crap...my brain hurts and it seems too difficult to even bother. Some medical bloggers do it with such ease, but try as I might I struggle with it. And God, are there some interesting things going on at work. Every day I am amazed or amused or shocked by the patients or their families. I need to work on my medical story telling. I just have to figure out how to protect myself and them. It will be a work in progress.

And we are in this limbo place with Sammy. We are towards the end in the process of diagnosing his issues and once that happens then the work of finding things that will work with him in school. At home, he is really fine and not a problem at all. At school, when his anxiety is at panic level, he just will not get any work done. Either he won't or can't calm his "school brain", as he puts it. It seems as though we are heading to a diagnosis of Asperger's, but at this point I don't care what we call it. I just want my child to not hate school every day. A small thing to ask, I think. He is an absolute joy in my life and I just want to do what is best for him. The task seems exhausting, but I know it is doable. We have some amazing people helping us, both at school and privately.

In other news, my cousin had her baby. For the record I was right..a boy. I have my flight booked for Colorado in April to fly out there and meet the little man and spend some MUCH needed quality cousin time. My best friend had her baby too. And I was right about that too..a girl. I have gotten to cuddle her a few times already.

Ack. so between the dentist ( for Josh), the doctors and school visits for Sam, work, life in general and all the other assorted crap I do, I guess I am tapped out. Not to mention with the change in season, which plunges me into melancholia. Recipe for non-writing. But I am working on it. I need to add some pictures and share all kinds of insanity with the blog-sphere. Today, I was so messed up schedule-wise that I showed up to work when I was not working until tomorrow. I swear it is impossible to keep my life straight these days. I have not done that in 15 years of working there. Pray for me. :D

excuses, excuses

Ohh, do I have piles of excuses. Tons. But you don't wanna hear that crap. You just want me to get on with it. I am sure many of you thought I fell off the face of the earth. Not true. I might have wanted to, but I am still here. Damn gravity.

So I thought I would jot down a funny little conversation from my favorite little funny man, Sam. That kid cracks me up like no other.

So we are waiting for an appointment and he asks me if I know the difference between fiction and non-fiction. He tells me he prefers non-fiction books and we talk about some of the interesting titles he as been bringing home from school. What kindergarten kid do you know that reads a book on the origins of the Pony Express? He LOVED that book.

Anyway, Sam says to me, "I know what fiction is. Fiction is that bears wear ties. That is all fiction"

and that made me laugh. Not only does he get it, he has an example. Too smart for his own damn good, that alien child of mine.

Cousin Lovin'

Obviously, when I sit to write this I have something on my mind. Since my mind flutters around with my adult onset ADD, it is often hard for me to find a starting point or to really narrow it down. Not this week though, someone has been on my mind quite a bit and I really think I need to write about her...my cousin Molly. She is closest to my age of all my cousins and closest to my heart in many ways too. I miss her every. single. day. Honestly, I do. I hear her voice and I am happy. I feel comfortable and safe. I feel like I can just tell her anything and everything and I know she understands. She even gets the things I don't say. I trust her like I would never trust anyone in my life. I have to, she can look at me and know me without me saying a word. Everyone needs that person. Everyone needs a "Molly"

I once took a good long time to figure out what I wanted to say about her. I was going through picture and got together a collection of them to share with her. And I tried to sum up my feelings about Molly. Really, nothing is going to sum it all up. Not ever. Here is the bit I wrote about us and the digital layout I made with some pictures of us over the years. As she waits to greet her new baby to the world, I thought this would be a great time to share it with the world...my "baby" so to speak. I am excited and so happy there will be more Molly in this world. That can only be a good thing. You are gonna have to trust me on that people.

So here it is...

Hey there cuz, for as long as I can remember we have been such an important part of each other life. We have shared a bedroom, many secrets, a quirky High School Drama club, a crazy extended family and our lives.

Our lives could not have been more different...I have not left Buffalo for more than a vacation, you have lived all over the world

I married my high school sweetheart and had 3 children, you are more the Bohemian, waiting to see where life will lead you.
We both admire the lives each other have chosen, while loving the life dealt us. I love that I can tell you anything.(remember when you were 20 and I was 18, you told me in secret you had a tattoo and I told you I was pregnant. hahah I WON!)

I know that I will always have you out there somewhere and that makes me feel good and makes me smile.You are always my biggest cheerleader and I am yours.

When that picture of us was taken my father laughed, he said that whenever
you and I are together we are little girls again. I love that we share all that history. I know you by heart and you know me by yours.
Love you, Molly!



I can't wait to see her again and welcome her baby into the world. ( for the record...I think it is a boy...but what do I know?) I hope she realizes I am coming out to see her at some point. She is only a plane ride away and I have some baby lovin' to get to.

I love you, Molly. You may never know how much.

The Return ( I hope)

So, here I am trying to wiggle my way back into the blogging world after some much needed downtime and some much unneeded stress. Who are we kidding? I love stress. I thrive on it. I picked to work on a very unpredictable and stressful floor at the hospital, for God's sake. If I didn't do well with stress, I would have flipped my nut long ago. Those external forces pushing on me hold me together to a degree. Sometime I wish they would not push so hard and so often, but I can't control much of anything right now.

Part of why I haven't written anything is because I was( am) in some sort of creative slump. Christmas tends to soak up so much of my time and talents that it leaves little for anything else. And once that hub-bub is over, I just want to let my brains cool down a bit before I start making demands on them again.

Another thing is that so much of what is happening, say with Sammy, is up in the air. That makes it hard to write about as well. What can I say when I am not sure what point we are in in the process?

And really, if I force myself to sit here and write, it will end up being horrible. I must say that NEVER in my life have I had a lack of material to write about, but my mind is easily diverted. I blame my job for this. I have to walk around for 13 hrs with hundreds of bits of info about two patients, much of which is critical for their well-being, and then I have to dump that info out and get a new batch the next shift for two other people. So my brain is in a constant turn-over.

Ah, enough with the excuses, right?

Let's see...Sammy is back in full day school. Seems he was actually worse on those half days. Refusing to do any work in school and acting out more than usual. Not sure what was going with that weirdness. We talked to the teacher and we decided to send him back full time after the Thanksgiving break. The first week went incredibly well and I thought maybe I over reacted with the whole anxiety about school thing. WRONG! it slowly slid downhill from there. He has decent and horrible days. I can NEVER predict them. He can leave the house miserable and have a fine day. He can skip out the door happily and he has a terrible day. Total crap shoot. He has more testing to go through and I am just riding it out. Nothing more I can do. One thing they want to do is to advance IQ test him. That should be interesting. He told me the other day it was too bright outside for him due to solar flares. I swear, he wears me out.

Work has been weird. I am flip-flopping from days to nights. I am getting too old for such things. Though, God forbid, I am forced to choose one shift. I love each of them for certain things and hate each of them for others. Day shift has a pretty big group of new nurses and though I TOTALLY do not mind helping any of them it can be stressful. I was new once too. ( a long,long time ago. sigh) But, it can be stressful. I swear the other day my name was said no less than 1000 times. By 7pm I was crazed. They are all excellent nurses, just very nervous. And they should be. One mistake can mean life or death. That is no exaggeration. Sometimes it is easier to slip into a night shift and just ride it out for 13 hours. Truth be told, I love that complete exhaustion feeling. Falling into bed and knowing I am going to get some incredible, deep sleep. Since sleep is such an issue for me I have to go with what works.

I have quite a few blog articles in my drafts. I suppose I really need to work on completing things. Hmmm...maybe my goal for 2009. Might help lift me from my winter crud.

Oh well. I will try to be better. I am a work in progress. Aren't we all.

What the Hell?

I had to get my butt in here and write something..anything, before y'all think I fell off the face of the earth! I looked back and I can't believe it has been so ling since I wrote anything. Christmas makes me insane and I am recovering still.
I wanted to post a video of my kids from Christmas. Sammy had just about had it when we got to my parents house for our 4th Christmas celebration. I can't blame the kid..I was spent too. I was attempting to get a picture of them in my mother's living room and was able to catch of bit of the REAL Sammy on film.

The Reveal

Since I have myself chained to my computer to finish my Christmas projects, except when I have to go to work, I have gotten quite a few things done. I make myself insane every year with personalized gifts and carefully selected presents. Someday I just want to be okay with buying gift cards for people and get over my need to "wow" people with something special. Maybe in my next life.

One thing I got done was our Christmas card. Though it is not exactly what I wanted, it came out pretty acceptable. They are off for printing and should be here for me to address next Monday. Oh, the joys never end!

Without further ado, the card:


Not too shabby, huh?

Hope you like it! Merry Christmas!!

Get my kid away from AIM!!!

So I am in Wegmans grocery store with Sammy yesterday and we hit the deli counter.

Sam asks me "Mom, why is the cheese laughing out loud?"

Now, my kid asks me crazy shit all the time or bursts out with crazy non-sequiturs so I really don't make anything of it.

"Sammy, what the heck are you talking about?!?!" is a frequent reply around here.

He is adamant and kinda getting pissed at me and asks again and is now pointing at the deli scale.

and I begin to laugh. It was Land of Lakes cheese.
Abbreviated LOL cheddar cheese.

I can only imagine that he has seen me chat on AIM with my friend Jen in Knoxville and has read her frequent "lol" messages to me.

My 6-year-old knows internet lingo. Holy Balls.

Randomness:

Needs Improvement
Damn, my handwriting SUCKS lately. I had to write a note to Sam's teacher this morning and it was all I could do to get through the 3 sentences. I am sure it is the fault of the computer, but I do write at work frequently. However, lately I have had new nurse orients that do all the charting and such. I am out of practice. I am pissed because I used to like my handwriting and I am being a lazy slob and letting it go down hill. I swear, when I was writing that my hand turned into a claw. I need to work on that soon. Put my hand on writing physical therapy. However it has not progressed to the point that some of my co-irkers writing has. I swear that one of the nurse practitioners as the handwriting of a would-be serial killer.


Sammy stuff:
Sammy is in half day kindergarten and let me tell you, that is getting old really quickly for me and Adam. Plus, I think on some level he is manipulating us with even worse behavior in school. I think me might think that if he is bad enough, I will take him back out of school. He is certainly smart enough to reason that out, unfortunately. He had his first appointment with the physiologist on Thursday. He walked into the waiting area and starting talking to a young woman waiting there for a friend. He proudly announced: " Hi! My name is Sammy and I am VERY nervous in school and they are going to help me here"

Nothing like just getting right to it, huh? His session with the therapist went well. We both liked her and what a weight off my shoulders to have someone tell me they know were we should head and that she is going to make this better for Sam..or at least try. I walked out of there feeling so much better. Plus, she thought although Sam has many "eccentricities, he is really very charming" An excellent way to put it.

Christmas Projects:
I am deep into my Christmas insanity already. Projects fill my brain and my computer desktop. I actually feel pretty on top of my chaos this year, but it is early. I am sure I will be in full anxiety mood soon enough. My calendars are taking shape. My mom and aunt expect one every year and I am not one to disappoint. I am thinking and re-thinking my Christmas card. Which sucks. You make a few cool cards and then you feel the need to top yourself every year. Impossible, if you ask me. Stupid to feel stressed over a stupid thing like that...but I do. Trying to find my design idea for the year. Here are two of the past creations and you can see how my style changed a bit. Who know what this year will bring.
Christmas 2006 ( note that the cards from 2004 and 2005 are on the wall, framed)Graphics by the amazing Mo Jackson.


2007 Version with some graphic goodies from Mo Jackson as well.


I started off with an idea from last year, with all of us as ornaments and that was just so scary I can't begin to describe it. Maybe for a Halloween card. Doesn't help when I have heard about 10 times so far, "I can't wait to see your card this year. I wait for it every year" Flattering, true. Pressure, a little.

So top all my Photoshop projects with button trees I need to make and cookies I need to plan and my list of gifts to buy..quite the potential for me to freak out. But I am not yet. I am keeping it together for now.

So I am off to create some art, or what I do that passes as art really. So many things to write about really, but my mind is in too many places to pull it together for now. Soon. No promises, but soon.