Well, Rod's off on his week-long motorcycle trip with two friends. Rachel's headed out to camp tomorrow morning at 7am. I am home alone until Friday morning. Let the wild rumpus start! I've got a to-do list a mile long, so we'll see how much of it gets done while everyone's gone!
Sunday, June 27, 2010
My week
Well, Rod's off on his week-long motorcycle trip with two friends. Rachel's headed out to camp tomorrow morning at 7am. I am home alone until Friday morning. Let the wild rumpus start! I've got a to-do list a mile long, so we'll see how much of it gets done while everyone's gone!
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Seven Deadly Sins
So... I'm not Catholic, but I'm just wondering: Is gluttony in the form of buying more books than necessary going send me straight to hell? If so, please let me live to be 153-years old, because the ratio of books bought:books read is way, way, way out of control.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Nate & Gen, Part One
(There are a few videos I'm trying to edit, so those will have to come later.)
What a Frabjous weekend!! My brother, Nathan, got married to this fabulous girl, Genessa.
My sister, Margaret, knows how to throw a party. I'm NOT KIDDING. See for yourself.
What a Frabjous weekend!! My brother, Nathan, got married to this fabulous girl, Genessa.
My sister, Margaret, knows how to throw a party. I'm NOT KIDDING. See for yourself.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Huntsman
My work schedule over the past month has been very inconsistent. So inconsistent that I haven't felt like I've had a good break from it. Mind you, I'm not complaining about my job, I'm just saying it's been difficult to feel rested for about a month. Split days off are not effective in the slightest.
Anyway, I wanted to share something that happened to me this past Tuesday that has impacted my life in a way that I still am reeling from.
I had just finished working a 6-day stretch. I was tired, had a house to clean, sleep to catch up on, a daughter to spend quality time with, and just b-r-e-a-t-h-e. When my alarm went off, I spent a good amount of time trying to decide if I was going to go up to do my volunteer shift at Huntsman Cancer Institute in the infusion clinic. (That's where the outpatient chemo is done.) After about 15 minutes I decided to go up. I got there a little late because of the never ending construction on I-15. About an hour and a half into my shift, I stopped to let a patient, D, know that I could grab her a pillow and blanket and some snacks if she wanted. She wanted a blanket and pillow. After returning to her chair, one of the nurses asked her to verify her birth date. Hers isn't that far from mine, and I commented on it. When I told her mine, she said, "Oh! My daughter has the same day as yours!" We then started talking a little bit more, and a little bit more, and eventually I sat down in a chair next to hers and we continued to talk and talk. D's an only child, she only has one child herself, and I got to talk to her about how she feels about having one child, which many of you know is something I've struggled with off and on. We talked about her cancer, which is a miracle for having been found. She said that she hates how the chemo affects her mind and ability to think of simple words like "book" or "store." She said that she started crying at Walmart last week because she was buying eggs. She said she's not one to cry, and I told her I'm not, either. I told her that when I was little I got more joy out of watching my mom and sisters cry at movies and operas. I mentioned that there were a few times my mom would call me out and tell me to stop gawking at them. She said that she cries at leaves falling off of trees, and then started to cry at the fact that she's lost control of her emotions, so to speak. She then told the patient in the chair next to hers that she was a leaf fall off a tree and got emotional. :) D talked about her friends, her life, books, her grandkids, you name it. She's only a few years older than my mother, too, which also made it very easy to talk with her. I visited with D for an hour/hour and a half. I apologized to the nurses because I felt guilty for having sat there for so long. Her attending nurse told me that I was doing my job and was fine.
What really got to me was that we both shared a moment where I told her I had a patient last week ask me how I could enjoy being at Huntsman. I told D, "You know, there's no other place on earth that gives me the feeling I get when I am here." She took my hand and said she agreed. I looked at her and said, "Dangit, I just saw a leaf fall off that tree out there," and we both sat quietly, looking at each other with an understanding that could not have been expressed with any words. We just held hands and wept.
Before our visit was over, D mentioned that she normally does not come to the infusion clinic on Tuesday mornings. She didn't want to be an inconvenience to her daughter that day and had changed her appointment to that morning. After grabbing my purse to start heading home, I went back over to her seat to tell her it was so nice to have been able to spend the morning with her. Her doctor was there, and D told me something that just has hit me to the core. She said that she was trying to get her chemo regimen rearranged to Tuesday mornings so she could be with me. She showed me her appointment card and said that her doctor, Dr. B., did her best to get her as close to Tuesday morning as possible. The card said 12:00 pm. I said, "Oh, dang! That's when my shift ends!" After giving it some thought, I told D, "I'll cut you a deal. If you let me run upstairs to grab a bite to eat, I promise I'll come down and visit you as long as I can."
She agreed.
I'm telling you, my decision to go up to Huntsman that morning was not my own. I was motivated by a higher power who knew that my presence in the infusion clinic was needed. I have made a life long friend in D, and for that I am truly blessed.
Anyway, I wanted to share something that happened to me this past Tuesday that has impacted my life in a way that I still am reeling from.
I had just finished working a 6-day stretch. I was tired, had a house to clean, sleep to catch up on, a daughter to spend quality time with, and just b-r-e-a-t-h-e. When my alarm went off, I spent a good amount of time trying to decide if I was going to go up to do my volunteer shift at Huntsman Cancer Institute in the infusion clinic. (That's where the outpatient chemo is done.) After about 15 minutes I decided to go up. I got there a little late because of the never ending construction on I-15. About an hour and a half into my shift, I stopped to let a patient, D, know that I could grab her a pillow and blanket and some snacks if she wanted. She wanted a blanket and pillow. After returning to her chair, one of the nurses asked her to verify her birth date. Hers isn't that far from mine, and I commented on it. When I told her mine, she said, "Oh! My daughter has the same day as yours!" We then started talking a little bit more, and a little bit more, and eventually I sat down in a chair next to hers and we continued to talk and talk. D's an only child, she only has one child herself, and I got to talk to her about how she feels about having one child, which many of you know is something I've struggled with off and on. We talked about her cancer, which is a miracle for having been found. She said that she hates how the chemo affects her mind and ability to think of simple words like "book" or "store." She said that she started crying at Walmart last week because she was buying eggs. She said she's not one to cry, and I told her I'm not, either. I told her that when I was little I got more joy out of watching my mom and sisters cry at movies and operas. I mentioned that there were a few times my mom would call me out and tell me to stop gawking at them. She said that she cries at leaves falling off of trees, and then started to cry at the fact that she's lost control of her emotions, so to speak. She then told the patient in the chair next to hers that she was a leaf fall off a tree and got emotional. :) D talked about her friends, her life, books, her grandkids, you name it. She's only a few years older than my mother, too, which also made it very easy to talk with her. I visited with D for an hour/hour and a half. I apologized to the nurses because I felt guilty for having sat there for so long. Her attending nurse told me that I was doing my job and was fine.
What really got to me was that we both shared a moment where I told her I had a patient last week ask me how I could enjoy being at Huntsman. I told D, "You know, there's no other place on earth that gives me the feeling I get when I am here." She took my hand and said she agreed. I looked at her and said, "Dangit, I just saw a leaf fall off that tree out there," and we both sat quietly, looking at each other with an understanding that could not have been expressed with any words. We just held hands and wept.
Before our visit was over, D mentioned that she normally does not come to the infusion clinic on Tuesday mornings. She didn't want to be an inconvenience to her daughter that day and had changed her appointment to that morning. After grabbing my purse to start heading home, I went back over to her seat to tell her it was so nice to have been able to spend the morning with her. Her doctor was there, and D told me something that just has hit me to the core. She said that she was trying to get her chemo regimen rearranged to Tuesday mornings so she could be with me. She showed me her appointment card and said that her doctor, Dr. B., did her best to get her as close to Tuesday morning as possible. The card said 12:00 pm. I said, "Oh, dang! That's when my shift ends!" After giving it some thought, I told D, "I'll cut you a deal. If you let me run upstairs to grab a bite to eat, I promise I'll come down and visit you as long as I can."
She agreed.
I'm telling you, my decision to go up to Huntsman that morning was not my own. I was motivated by a higher power who knew that my presence in the infusion clinic was needed. I have made a life long friend in D, and for that I am truly blessed.
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