Baseball Wife

Observing Patients, Eleven at a Time

2011-11-09T09:10:00.000-08:00

I keep having family and friends ask me what unit I work on at the hospital and what we do. As a brand-new, career-changing nurse, it's been a little hard to explain, even to myself. Now that I'm officially out of orientation and some (just some) of my naivety is gone, I figured I better know where I am and what I'm doing.

I didn't have the slightest clue as to what a hospital observation unit was when FGH hired me. I was just grateful for a job offer in a city that has one major university and several community colleges, all whom had just graduated their own gazillion nursing students who were looking for jobs in the Hattiesburg area at the same time I was. That, and I could finally move out of my parent's guest room and join my husband who had moved down to our new digs several weeks earlier.

No offense to mom and dad. It was a great time having mommy do my laundry again, but this 30-year-old was ready to move out of the proverbial basement and get on with her life.

Honestly, I was so proud of my title as "RN-Medical Oncology" back in Missouri. Caring for cancer patients? Totally worthy occupation. Outpatient Observation? It sounded weak at first, like I would be putting band-aids on boo-boos and sending my patients home with a lollipop.

Some days, I wish that's all I did.

I didn't really know what an observation unit was. I was like, do I just watch the patients and make sure they don't get worse? What are we observing for? Am I going to be bored to tears?

Today's Hospitalist explains observation units like this: "As Emergency Departments are increasingly stretched by capacity constraints and lack of specialist support, hospitals are turning to observation units, also known as clinical decision units, to fill those gaps without taking up inpatient beds. Patients admitted to observation units are expected to be evaluated and treated and rapidly improve within 24 hours."

“The setting is geared toward patients who require more management or attention than can be given in the traditional ED, but do not need the length or level of services provided in the inpatient setting,” says Russell Holman, M.D., senior vice president of Cogent Healthcare, a national hospitalist firm based in Irvine, Calif.

“Placing one patient in the observation unit frees up about three beds in the ED,” says Sandra Sieck, R.N., president of Sieck HealthCare Consulting, Mobile, Ala. "Observation units can help avoid unnecessary and costly inpatient admissions by aggressively diagnosing and treating patients’ symptoms, allowing them to go home in a timely manner."

Our unit works closely with the ER doctors - but when emergency department orders run out after eight hours, care is usually handed over to one of the on-call Hospitalists...which means a whole new set of orders to implement. In the meantime, the physicians and case managers are trying to determine - in less than 23 hours - whether the patient needs to be converted to inpatient status.

So it's very true we move at a rapid pace.

Yesterday alone, between transfers, discharges and admissions, I had 11 patients.

To give you a bigger picture, our unit is only 14 beds. I take seven, the other nurse on shift takes seven.

Seven beds. 11 patients.

Lots of coffee. And aspirin. And charting.

Our floor sees everything from sickle-cell crisis to cellulitis, COPD exacerbations to dehydration. Patients come from outside clinics for blood transfusions. We see a lot of patients with renal failure - I've gotten to know our nephrologists really well. We get a lot of funky wounds, and we also serve as a recovery floor for patients coming out of surgery.

PACU delivers us lap-chole patients, (seems like everyone and their second cousin has had their gallbladder removed lately) hernia repairs, thyroidectomies...just about any same-day surgery where the patient just needs to stay the night and be discharged in the morning. I call those my "eat solid food and drink with out throwing up, pee, walk the halls without passing out and be cleared to go home" patients. We've also had a run of PEG placements lately, and I feel like I can do tube feedings with my eyes closed.

(Which I once said to a co-worker, who told me she would hope I wouldn't. Southern people still don't get that when I say things like that, it's called sarcasm.)

A typical 12-hour patient rotation can look like this: a patient is admitted to the floor from post-surgery around noon, only to be discharged four hours later...who's room was rapidly cleaned and assigned to a new patient who arrives no less than 20 minutes after the previous patient was wheeled out the door.

Or a patient gets to the floor from the ER, and ten minutes later surgery is calling for them (no joke...this happened to me this week). To get a patient to surgery, you have to complete a whole checklist of items, have surgery consents signed - which you can't have the patient sign if they've taken narcotics (morphine, dilauded), which of course the ER gave them just ten minutes earlier - draw labs, make sure the patient has removed dentures/jewelry/glasses/clothes off/gown on, plus call surgery to give report on the patient you're sending them.

Giving report on a patient you've seen for a total of five seconds to the same-day surgery nurse who's been around the block a time or two is nuts. You better have your stuff together. Or at least make it sound like you have your stuff together.

And speaking of drawing labs, PCRMC spoiled me. We had phlebotomists who would come and do a simple stick for an H&H. Not so here. We grab our trays and tubes and trot off down the hall to play vampire.

PS: I love central lines and chest ports. The end.

It can get exhausting. Halfway through orientation I decided I didn't like the floor, it was too fast-paced and that I just couldn't get my day organized with all of the admission orders, discharge orders and general care orders going on in between. One patient coming in while another is going out...I seriously felt I was drowning trying to keep on top of everything. People wanting to be discharged want to go home NOW, not in 30 minutes...at the exact same time the PACU nurses are calling you into the room of the patient they just brought up because they need to hand off the chart and have lifting help from the stretcher to the bed. And then that new patient wants something to drink and their family is hovering and their IV is beeping and....

And people wonder why I'm still broken out in stress-related hives.

(Sarcasm again, my southern friends. But not really.)

Now that I've been on my own for two weeks, I'm realizing that I'm not as incapable as I first felt. I can do this.Yes, it's incredibly stressful. Yes, it's rapid work. But I feel like I know this floor now, I know where things are, and I know who to ask if I don't know something. I'm getting to know the doctors - most of whom are fairly approachable and easy to talk to.

I really like my co-workers and feel that we all work well together. They bring cake to celebrate birthdays, and I like cake.

This floor is growing on me. Once in awhile I still miss my cancer patients and the five-patient, steady, unchanging workload in Missouri, but honestly, this is now starting to feel like home. I don't want to bail ship and leave this unit anymore.

I get it now. I get the point and purpose of observation, and I'm proud to be an RN in the middle of it.

Oh, and my scrubs are cute too.

Sunday, Sunday...

2011-10-16T18:01:00.000-07:00

I did something today that I've never done before.

I wore shorts and a t-shirt in mid-October.

And went to the beach.*

This is about as far out as I'll go.

Things-in-the-ocean-that-will-eat-my-legs-phobia and all that.

"A message in a bottle!" I said.

"Nope," said M. "Just somebody's fo'ty."

So sorry, Missouri...I just didn't miss you that much today.

*I've actually been to the beach before, just not in mid-October. And just to clarify, we went after church. And lunch. And walking the apartment dogs who, we discovered, shredded a newspaper and some of M's student's homework while we were at church. Fabulous.

Forget about the Blessings

2011-10-12T08:30:00.000-07:00

So.

You all know that I’m forever a student. I love to learn. Love love love books and taking notes and feeding into my OCD/list-taking/notebook/file folders/organization obsession.

I’m a nerdy-nerd, and I embrace that fact.

But do you know what’s hard for this little bookworm?

Re-learning and reprogramming my brain around a concept that I thought I had nailed down at one time.

From first grade.

Seriously.

Remember the song we all used to sing in Sunday School when we were six?

Seek ye first the kingdom of God
And all His righteousness
And all these things will be added unto you
Hallelu, Hallelujah!

Those lyrics are taken directly from Matthew 6:33. It’s based on the premise of trust…trust God to provide for your needs, don’t worry and try to relax. God will provide for you through his blessings.

“Can all your worries add a single moment to your life?...So don’t worry about these things, saying ‘what will we eat? What will we drink? What will we wear?’ These things dominate the thoughts of unbelievers, but your heavenly Father already knows all your needs. Seek the Kingdom of God above all else, and live righteously, and he will give you everything you need.” Matthew 6:27, 31-33 NLT

As a believer, this verse excites me. Sweet! Live a Christian life, do good things, seek God’s will for my life, and PRESTO! Blessings galore will be showered over me!! With sparkles and rainbows and unicorns!!!

Yes. I live in my own little (sparkly) world. Just ask my husband.

However, my little confetti-party got put on hold this past Sunday, when I heard a sermon – on this exact verse- that jumped up and slapped me upside the head.

My glitter headband was knocked askew, to say the least.

Pastor Parke: Forget about the blessings.

Me, thinking to myself, more than a little whiny: What?? Are you serious?? But God said…

Pastor Parke: Would you still be willing to give your life to Jesus if there was no such thing as blessings? Would you still be willing to follow him at all cost if there was no return on investment in it for you?

Oh. That’s hard. That’s really, really hard.

Pastor Parke: Don’t confuse the promises with the purpose. Don’t get greedy, doing things just for the promise of the blessings. Forget about the blessings.

How many times have I thought to myself, “Sure, I’ll donate this much money. God will bless me for it.” Or, “If I read my Bible every morning, God will bless me for it.” Or, “If I go to choir practice tonight instead of staying home to watch Game 3 of the NLCS, God will bless me for it.”

I’m not saying that God won’t bless you if you donate money or read your Bible or get your little self into church when the doors are open. God promises his blessings to us. He enjoys showering us with blessings – just one of the little perks of following him.

“See if I don't open up heaven itself to you and pour out blessings beyond your wildest dreams.” Malachi 3:8, The Message

“My cup overflows with blessings.” Psalm 23:5, NLT

“Yes, the Lord pours down his blessings.” Psalm 85:12, NLT

“Both are part of the same body, and both enjoy the promise of blessings because they belong to Christ Jesus.” Ephesians 3:6, NLT

Furthermore, God's idea of a blessing and my idea of a blessing can be two completely different things. In my mind, a blessing might come in the form of a dead president on a green and tan piece of paper. God's idea of a blessing might be just letting me take another breath or letting me get out of bed in the morning.

I’m just saying – why am I really reading my Bible? Is it because I expect God to shower his praises over me, or is it because I truly desire to know his heart and strengthen my relationship with him?

Forget about the blessings.

Why am I in choir? Is it because I want God to see me in front of the church every Sunday morning raising my hands to the sky and say, “Wow! She’s a Super-Christian!! I need to get her a cape!!” or is it because I want to return praise to my Jesus who extends his grace and forgiveness to me…even though he really didn’t have to?

How often do God’s blessings become a distraction – so much so that we forget who God really is and what he’s actually doing? Are the blessings becoming more important than the Giver of those blessings?

Forget about the blessings.

Don’t confuse the promises with the purpose.

Blessings are nice.

But focusing on God’s greater purpose is better.

Knuke the Blue Fairy

2011-10-09T16:09:00.000-07:00

First, let me say I have never, ever dressed our dogs up for Halloween.

It's not without lack of trying. It's because my husband thinks people clothes belong on people, and dogs are just fine and dandy with the fur God gave them.

But what fun is that?

What's fun is having ginormous dogs who don't fit into any dog costumes - even the XXL ones at PetsMart - and there is a Halloween pet costume contest three days away. Plus it's a fundraiser for the Susan G. Komen foundation, so this is a must...I mean, am I an advocate of oncology or what?

I chose Knuke as Contestant #1. He's the most laid-back of our dogs, and besides...M refused to let me dress up Suka. I was only allowed to send one dog to therapy after this.

So how to find an outfit that would fit?

Wal-mart toddler costume section to the rescue.

Only one problem.

All of the boy options are lame. I mean, what dog wants to show up as a spider or pirate? How original is that?

In a moment of creative glory, I decided to piece together the most wondrous of all costumes.

A blue fairy.

Knuke's official title on his entry form: Blue Fairy, Because it's Manly.

Wings, a tulle skirt, some birthday streamers and some creative stapling of elastic band and turquoise ribbon from Hobby Lobby, and you have yourself a manly dog Halloween costume.

M immediately started apologizing to Knuke.

What was a little frightening is that Knuke didn't seem to mind.

Saturday was the big day. Like I expected, it was mostly little teeny dogs prancing around as pumpkins and cheerleaders and banana splits.

I have absolutely nothing against little dogs dressed as pumpkins and cheerleaders and banana splits. I thought it was adorable.

However.

Enter Knuke.

Gigantic, lumbering mass of a dog.

In a skirt.

Guess who won Best in Show? I was thrilled.

And if eye-rolling and groaning is any indication, M was thrilled as well.

Baby, it's Hot Outside

2011-08-29T14:43:00.000-07:00

I should have been born into one of those cultures that keep their women all wrapped up from head to toe.

Seriously. I love my long sleeve t's, my jeans, my fleece pants, my hoodies and sweaters. And let's not forget my fuzzy boots. Oh, the fuzzy, fuzzy boots.

So it keeps scaring me a little every time I hear someone down here say something along the lines of "Our seasons? Well, we have a really hot summer, then we go into a regular summer for a couple weeks, then it turns back into the really hot summer again."

And if by chance there is even a hint of a chance of snow flurries, schools are cancelled for weeks.

Not really.

Just days.

I'll miss you, fuzzy boots and hoodies.

Maybe I can convince M to retire to Alaska.

Road Trip Weekend #1

2011-08-09T04:38:00.000-07:00

Drive south 90 miles. Then you're in the land of debauchery and weird people and beautiful architecture and puffy little sugary pillows that I had been deprived of for 30 years.

New Orleans.

Yes, it's true. I've never been there. Unless you count the time my church youth group stopped on the way home from a mission trip in Texas just to get Hard Rock Cafe t-shirts while my youth pastor told of the evils of Bourbon Street.

Walking around the French Quarter on a 99 degree Saturday afternoon is quite a different experience. The place was packed. I'm the kind of person who likes to stop and look in store windows, take in the scenery and just take my time looking around. I quickly found out that that is next to impossible in the Big Easy. If you stop to look, you get trampled from the masses of people behind you on the sidewalk. Being short in a large, moving crowd isn't the best.

I lovelovelove the buildings. The balconies. The history.

But then we found it. The oasis in the middle of all of the hot, sticky, stinky inebriated bodies. It's green awning waving hello in the breeze. Powdered sugar dust coating the sidewalk in all four directions.

That's right. Cafe du Monde. Home of ridiculously thick black coffee and fried dough covered in powdered sugar.

Heaven.

Totally worth whatever time I will have to spend on the elliptical to minimize the damage.

I did the entire experience. The tiny little table crammed next to other tiny tables that can barely seat one person. The coffee that I could barely drink because, as my sister told me, it will put hair on my chest by morning, and the beignets. Oh, the beignets. Sigh.

Yes. I'm a naive little Midwestern girl, transplanted in the Deep South, enjoying every minute of it and not worrying if I look like a complete idiot tourist.

I need to quickly remind myself to say "ya'll" though. Every time I say "you guys" I get someone who asks me what part of the Yankee North I'm from. Fabulous.

Today I love: Fresh cut pineapple and Chocolate Truffle coffee.

A Lot Can Happen in 60 Days. With a lot of Pictures.

2011-07-26T07:22:00.000-07:00

So yes. In response to my last post (in MAY, for crying out loud), I did graduate from nursing school.

My adorable niece sent her congrats.

I took a hiatus from all things facebook/twitter/internet/life to study for my boards. I passed my boards. I'm officially an RN.

I started my new job as a medical oncology nurse and began the New Grad Residency program at the hospital. It was pretty cool. My preceptor was great. She taught me more in a month than I learned in an entire semester of nursing school.

Then, if graduation/boards/new job training wasn't enough going on in my life, my husband, my dear, sweet husband, decides to accept a new baseball coaching position in Hattiesburg, MS.

Roughly 536 miles away.

Did you all know that M was born and raised on the coast in Gulfport, MS? Yes. When I first met him, he had the sweetest little southern accent that was quickly decimated by the Missouri Ozarks twang that surrounded us. (He still teases me about my Yankee ability to put a "y" or "ie" sound in the middle of any word. Hi comes out as Hiiiieeee. Oil is oy-el. Etc.) He hates snow and ice, and I think the last couple winters of nothing but ice storms and snow days brought him to his breaking point. This position was just something he couldn't turn down - bigger school in a big city? With restaurants and movie theatres and a mall? And a Target?

Yes please.

So, I gave my notice at work, we packed up the house, and we moved. I've now been in Hattiesburg for one week. It's been a little bit of culture shock for this Midwestern Girl - namely, just now stinkin' nice everyone is. I'm not used to complete strangers coming up to me in the store to see if they can help me reach something on the very top shelf. If that happened in St. Louis, you make sure you have your mace handy. Actually, I wouldn't know, because no one ever took the time to stop to offer to help me before.

However, I'm sorry. I cannot put my groceries into something called a buggy - it's a shopping cart. A buggy is something you put a baby in to walk it around the block. I'm not throwing groceries on top of a baby.

I love where we live. We decided to rent our first year here just to scope out the area before we buy a house. Our apartment is sweet. All credit goes to M - he came down before we moved to look at several different apartments and secured this one for us. It is beautiful. Pool, fitness center, gated, and the best part - we are about five steps away from the Longleaf Trace, a 41 mile paved walking/jogging/biking trail. We get to have our dogs, and our apartment has it's own private entrance. Love.

See the lamppost in the middle of the picture? The door with the overhang right to the right of it is our front door:

View from the kitchen window:

My book nook! Knuke loves it.

Walking the dogs on the Trace.

Yes. We live two hours from NOLA. We also live one hour from the beach if you drive south towards Gulfport.

My new place of employment as of August 1. I'll be a post-surg RN.

I would show more pictures of the inside of the apartment, but we sold our furniture before we left Missouri, and Haverty's is supposed to be here today to deliver the new goods. If it's anything like waiting for the cable guy, I'm not going to hold my breath.

On a final note, southern humidity and my hair are not compatible. I look like I have the frizzy, puffy hair of my middle school days - not a good look for me. I really don't want to re-live that awkward time in my life, so any suggestions of anti-humidity/smoothing hair products would be greatly appreciated.

Today I love: Folgers Chocolate Truffle coffee and air conditioning.

The End is the Beginning

2011-05-16T10:01:00.000-07:00

So, what's everyone doing this Thursday?

I'm not doing much...just GRADUATING FROM NURSING SCHOOL!!

Not that I'm excited or anything.

This past year has been crazy. It's felt like a lifetime, but at the same time it's gone by so very fast. I know for a fact I've had more breakdowns and crying sessions this past year alone than in my entire 30 years of life combined.

Pathophysiology, I blame YOU for that.

So what's the next chapter in my life going to look like?

I start work at PCRMC Monday, May 23. I will be an oncology nurse. I am beyond proud of this.

I will also get to re-establish living in the same house as my husband.

To anyone who isn't familiar with our situation, it's fun to see the look on their face when I say that. No, we haven't separated. No, we haven't split up. No, he didn't see me have one of my famous Pathophysiology Meltdowns and decide I was too high maintenance (though he does tell me I'm high maintenance. But it's all in love. I hope.).

Living in STL for a year while going to school was difficult, but also sort of good for our marriage. Don't get me wrong - I wouldn't want to do this again any time soon. It's not ideal. I missed my heater-man against my cold feet at night. I missed being able to see him face-to-face when he walked in from work. I missed cooking him dinner and just hanging out on a Friday night. However, our communication skills were put to the test, and we actually had to talk to each other. None of this, "How was your day?" "Fine. How was yours?" "Fine." Then ESPN for the rest of the night. We had to have actual conversations. My night was always made complete with his "Goodnight, sweet dreams, I love you" sign-off. It was good. We learned how to talk (and text) to each other all over again, and I liked that.

M has been above-and-beyond supportive throughout this entire undertaking, and I seriously couldn't have done it without his encouragement and 100% belief that I could actually become a nurse. He kept me going when I wanted to (and did) fall apart. He told me I could do it when I didn't think I was able. Things would happen in our life - family things, work things, random things that just happened to fall upon us because it's us - and he would tell me that it wasn't my job to worry about it, it was my job to focus on school. Looking back, I can see so many things he sheltered me from just because he didn't want to distract me from school. What other guy would do that? He's amazing. And he's mine. I'm blessed beyond anything I deserve.

But he still won't let me practice starting an IV on him, even though he has the perfect veins for it. How's a girl supposed to learn?

Now, it's back to a routine. A job. A paycheck. Baseball games. Dinner. Feeding the dogs. Walking the dogs. Keeping the dogs from eating the couch. And I can't tell you how much I'm looking forward to getting back to a normal life. Seriously. I missed my house and family. And I'm tired of taking tests.

I do however have one more major test to go - NCLEX sometime in late June or early July. This might validate a couple more (or a hundred or a thousand) meltdowns - just warning you.

Then, I'll officially be AW: BA, BSN, RN, MBA.

I love letters at the end of my name.

Beaten

2011-04-07T18:46:00.000-07:00

I met a woman today.

87 years old, she described in vivid detail the horrors of surviving an abusive marriage. She described being beaten, kicked, hit, slapped. She described the shotgun that was pointed at her when she was pregnant with her first child. She even described how her husband used to sleep with a hatchet under his side of the bed, and the many sleepless nights she spent just waiting for him to use the weapon on her.

87 years old, and she still remembers the terror just like it was yesterday.

But she was one of the lucky ones.

She escaped. She was brave enough to see through the many lies of “I’m sorry,” and “It will never happen again” and “I love you.”

Not many do.

Not many live to tell their stories.

On average, more than three women and one man are murdered by their intimate partners in this country every day.

One in four women (25%) has experienced domestic violence in her lifetime.

Nearly three out of four (74%) of Americans personally know someone who is or has been a victim of domestic violence.

I now personally know two.

Which, in my opinion, is two too many.

Take a minute to look around you. If you’re like me, you have it pretty well.

A warm bed. A car. Computer, TV, food in the fridge.

But most of all, the feeling of security.

How many times do I take my life for granted? How many times do I get wrapped up in my own little world, stressing about silly things that - in the long run - don’t truly matter at all? Why do I let myself get so wrapped up in inconsequential things? Ten years from now, will I really care? Will anyone else really care? Will it really have been the dramatics I made it out to be?

Doubtful.

I need to stop focusing on myself. I need to stop focusing on how I will benefit from situations. How I will be treated by people.

Because honestly, I don’t matter. And I mean that in all sincerity.

Let me explain.

If I get myself out of the way, then that makes room for others. How can I claim to be a Christian and not have a servant’s heart? How can I possibly not want to put others first and see to their needs before I even start to care about my own?

Don’t be selfish; don’t try to impress others. Be humble, thinking of others as better than yourselves. (Philippians 2:3 NLT)

As much as my heart aches for those in my life who have suffered through and survived the nightmares of domestic abuse, I thank this courageous woman for sharing her story with me today. Not only did she make me want to champion the cause of domestic violence awareness, but she made me stop and reflect on my own life. My own hangups. My own selfishness.

So like I mentioned - if I have it pretty good, then I need to stop whining. Stop complaining. Stop focusing on me. What makes me think I’m so much better than someone else? Absolutely nothing. If only the world knew my struggles, they’d see why I’m so indebted, so in awe of the love and grace of Christ. I’m far from perfect.

Stop putting myself first. Start serving others.

Go.

Let's Try This Again

2011-02-02T07:57:00.000-08:00

Picture this:

Third week of school starts. (Sidebar: that’s why this blog hasn’t been updated in awhile...school started up again, therefore life has ended for awhile.) Lifespan test scheduled for 8am. I wake up at 4am wanting to scream in pain with...yep. Another round of kidney stones.

However, I don’t want to miss this test. I studied all weekend - I don’t want to waste that. So I took a couple Advil (or a million, I wasn’t really counting) and headed to class.

My professor took one look at me and said, “No. You’re not taking this test. I won’t let you get a bad grade because you can’t concentrate.” I argued that I was fine, she looked at me skeptically, I looked at her sheepishly, and she, sensing victory, called one of my other professors over to walk me to the ER.*

*The SLU nursing school is right across the street from the SLU hospital, and therefore the SLU ER. Very convenient when you want to roll on the ground in a ball from excruciating pain.

First of all, let me say how incredible our professors are. They actually take the time to care about us students. This is a major university with thousands upon thousands of students, yet little ole’ me got a personal escort with a professor who kept asking if I was ok, when did this start, what have I done to try to alleviate the pain, etc. (Sure, she’s also a nurse, but still. I appreciated the concern.)

The day progressed as you would imagine - hours in the ER waiting to see the doctor and get wheeled down to CT. I will say, however, this ER experience was MUCH better than my last ER experience. The Saint Louis University Hospital ER is WONDERFUL. No one made any mistakes with my IV, they put my armband on me, they repeatedly asked me my name and birthday before giving me meds...unlike the ER I went to a few weeks ago that didn’t do any of those things. Bad. Bad bad bad.

My friend Teri came to sit with me after she got done taking the test, and it was nice not to be alone - especially since the patient in the bay across from me was handcuffed and guarded by corrections officers.

I swear he kept staring at me when the curtain was open. Creepy.

And of course the day I have to be in the ER is the day the ice storm started. And of course I can’t drive home on morphine.

My wonderful, amazing and selfless cousin Gretchen dropped everything she was doing to come pick me up. In the ice storm. She didn’t even stop to think about it - she just ran straight to the ER and took charge - which was absolutely what I needed since the morphine had kicked in and I didn’t understand a single word the doctor was telling me. Plus, as a doctor’s wife, Gretchen knew the questions to ask. Plus, as a mom of three, Gretchen knew how to fuss over me which made me relax and not stress out so much.

Have I mentioned that Gretchen is wonderful and amazing?

The verdict: the ER doc said that he assumes it’s kidney stones, but the tests were inconclusive (of course - this is me we’re talking about), and I have to follow up with a urologist in a week.

Cause, you know, I have time for that.

When I called to schedule the appointment, the secretary didn’t understand why I couldn’t come in at 10am on Tuesday or Wednesday (clinicals and clinicals) or Friday at 11 (NCLEX pharmacology predictor test).

I’ve also discovered that it’s really hard (and exhausting) trying to explain my whole situation to people. Yes, I’m 30, but yes, I’m also a full-time student at SLU. No, I don’t have a primary doctor in the area, because my home is three hours away. But yes, I do live in the area during the week with my cousins. Yes, I’m married, but like I mentioned, my home - therefore my husband - is three hours away. Why? Because I’M A FULL TIME STUDENT AT SLU!!! For crying out loud.

I had to explain this over and over to the ER doc - is this really so difficult to understand? You are a doctor, right?

Anyway, we got out of the ER alive and made it home before the ice got really bad. And this storm might have been a blessing in disguise - clinicals were canceled yesterday and today.

The plan: Rest, pain meds and lots (and LOTS) of fluids, and looking up even more info about kidney stones and dietary restrictions (see previous post).

And lots of Audrey Hepburn. Breakfast at Tiffany’s makes everything better.

But now for something fun - Blizzard pictures! We took Cami-dog for a walk in the snow last night. Lesson learned? Blizzard snow HURTS when it hits your face.

Here’s me and Katie (she’s 12. And as tall as me. No fair). I was trying to stay upright on the ice - not easy when Cami likes to pull.

Believe it or not, this is all sleet and ice.

You can’t really see it in the picture, but the snow/sleet was blowing horizontal. That can’t be good.

This just in: my sister down in Houston, TX just informed me that they don’t have power: “How’s everything up there? No power here because our electric companies don’t know how to handle temps below 30. No power. No heat. No internet. Houston municipalities are so stupid!!!!"

Spoken like a true midwestern girl who grew up with snowstorms and a pastel pink snowsuit. She giggles when her neighbors don’t know what to do with a frost-covered windshield.

And according to my cousin Anne up near Chicago: “They have called a civil emergency in Lake county--all roads closed and you can be arrested if you do drive. I'm going to try to shovel out, call the police and get to the clinic later this am. This is not good!!” Poor Anne - today is also her birthday!

And let’s not forget my husband’s sentiments: “I’m moving to Jamaica.”

The Great Health Manifesto

2011-01-13T18:04:00.001-08:00

I did something really, really stupid.

Really. Stupid.

I was enjoying life as a vegetarian, saving the lives of innocent little animals and feeling like I was doing something good for my body. However, in the middle of finding myself back up to the weight I was at while at SBU in 2001 – no surprise since I’m back in school, sitting on my butt all day and stress-eating bags of sunchips and diet coke – and I had a moment of desperation. I know better. So what in the world was I thinking when I made this decision?

In a moment of pure insanity and desperation, I did something evil. Something really, really bad. I don’t even want to admit it. I’m embarrassed beyond anything.

I’m so ashamed about this...this awful, stupid decision to...ugh.

Fine. I’ll admit it.

I low-carbed it.

Ugh. Yes, that’s right. It was wonderful and disgusting all at the same time. I was dropping weight, but that was probably because I was sick to my stomach every time a fleshy piece of chicken or muscle-y piece of steak crossed my lips. The cheese – oh man. I could live on cheese alone. That part was wonderful. And salads and roasted veggies...that was all good.

But the meat. Oh, just the thought of it right now makes me want to throw up.

And now I find out that all that stupidity might be the reason why I got kidney stones again.

The ER doctor recommended that I talk with a dietician since this is my second time with the stones – the first time was on my honeymoon – and interestingly enough, I was on the low-carb wagon then too.

Hmmmm. There might be a connection here.

These stats kind of shocked me:

· The younger a person is when they have their first kidney stone (I was 22) greatly increases the risk of having additional attacks. Peak stone formation is between the ages of 35-50.

· There is an 80% chance of recurring stones ones a person suffers their first stone. There is a cumulative 10% chance each year (ex: 5 years = 50%).

· 60% of people who have experienced one kidney stone will likely develop another within seven years.

Guess what? Yep. It’s been seven years since my first stone.

Fantastic.

So what did the dietician say?

First of all, she told me to knock off the low-carb mentality. Quick weight loss doesn’t equal healthy weight loss. Quick weight loss usually equals weight quickly coming back on. Which I know. I KNOW. I know that there are good carbs, good fats...I know the drill. I just don’t listen to myself very much, and I search for the next quick weight-loss option within my reach.

And look where it gets me.

Ugh. Fine. FINE. I surrender. I’m done.

We’ll do this the dietician’s way.

Here’s some info from my doctor, the dietician I talked to today, the Mayo Clinic and WebMD.

I like lots of sources.

So first of all, what are kidney stones?

Kidney stones form when there is a change in the normal balance of water, minerals, and other things found in urine. This can happen if you do not get enough fluids or if you eat too much of certain kinds of food, such as animal protein (!!!!). And, like previously mentioned, if you had kidney stones before, you are more likely to get them again.

My dietician said that by following the eating plan she suggests, I may be able to prevent new kidney stones. Here’s what she went over with me:

· It’s a common myth that a diet high in calcium contributes to kidney stones. Eat a moderate or high amount of calcium-rich foods, such as low-fat milk, yogurt and cheese. The calcium in the food you eat doesn't have an effect on your risk of kidney stones. Ask your doctor before taking calcium supplements, though, as these have been linked to an increased risk of kidney stones.

· Eat a balanced diet that is not too high in animal protein. This includes beef, chicken, pork, fish, and eggs. These foods contain a lot of protein, and too much protein may lead to kidney stones (No more low-carb stupid dieting for me!!). Choose non-animal protein sources, such as soy and legumes.

· Getting your recommended amounts of calcium, combined with a diet low in sodium and protein, may actually decrease your risk of kidney stones. (So, to summarize, increase calcium, decrease sodium and animal protein.)

· The number one way to prevent kidney stones is to drink plenty of water. The most common cause of kidney stones is not drinking enough fluids, especially water. Avoid tea, dark colas and limit coffee intake. (Um, crap. That might be a problem. I still haven’t found a way to break my four-cups-of-coffee-in-the-morning-and-diet-coke-afternoon-pick-me-up habit yet.)

· Avoid grapefruit juice. Grapefruit juice not only contributes to the formation of kidney stones, but it interacts with many medications as well. (True. Grapefruit juice and birth control do not mix.)

· Talk to your doctor if you take vitamins or supplements. He or she may want you to limit how much fish oil or calcium supplements you take. Also, do not take more than the recommended daily dose of vitamins C and D.

· Increase how much fiber you eat. Fiber includes oat bran, beans, whole wheat breads, wheat cereals, etc.

· Avoid pre-packaged foods that contain added sugars.

· Avoid foods that are high in oxalate, such as dark leafy green vegetables, berries, nuts, and chocolate (!!!). (Seriously? No more spinach?? What in the world??)

· Try not to add salt when you cook or eat. Remove the salt shaker from your table, avoid eating canned soups, microwave meals and packaged foods that are high in sodium and limit fast-food intake.

So, that’s what the dietician and I talked about, and WebMD and the Mayo Clinic concur.

On one hand, it’s a great excuse to tell M that I’m not eating meat again.

On the other...life without chocolate? Even life with chocolate in limited amounts?

But I’m willing to try anything at this point. I cannot even describe how painful this is...I do not want this to come back. I’ll do anything to prevent that from happening.

Anything. I’m miserable right now.

And just to clarify – the kidney stone prevention diet isn’t necessarily a weight-loss diet. It’s a “get your body back to its optimal health” diet – something I apparently need right now. We’ll worry about weight loss later. Right now I just need to focus on being healthy.

“To insure good health: Eat lightly, breathe deeply, live moderately, cultivate cheerfulness and maintain an interest in life.” ~ William Londen

31 Days of Fitness and Kidney Stones

2011-01-12T16:33:00.001-08:00

My 31 Days of Fitness reached Day 10 before it came to a screeching halt.

Kidney stones will do that to you.

Days 5-10 of Fitness consisted of walking 3.25 miles with my neighbors while alternating with JM's Yoga and Cardioblast at the Salem Fitness Center on Monday nights.

Day 10 ended with a trip to the ER at midnight in the middle of a snowstorm because I couldn't breathe due to the searing pain shooting through my left side. I was curled in the fetal position on the bathroom floor when M was like, "This looks exactly like when you had kidney stones on our honeymoon. We're going to the ER." So, we went to the ER.

After I changed out of my pajamas and put on deodorant and brushed my teeth, of course. I did wear my slippers though. Mostly because I couldn't bend over to tie my shoes, and also because we live in rural Missouri. On a normal day you'll see people wearing slippers in our local Walmart, so I figured I'd be forgiven in a hospital.

Long story short - lots of fluids and painkillers as needed. Just like last time.

Now for something fun. M went out of town for a couple days to a baseball coach's conference, and I painted our bedroom!

We've been living in the dark dinginess of wood panelling for the past two years, and I've been wanting to paint it for, well, the past two years. But since we rent, we didn't want to put the money into it. Good thing our landlord owns the local hardware store...I went and asked permission to paint, and he practically threw the supplies at me. I offered to pay, but he said he was getting free labor out of it...and if I felt like painting any other rooms in the house to just let him know.

So I'm kinda guessing he didn't like the wood panelling either.

Before:

After:

Oh yeah, and I rearranged the furniture too. Big surprise, huh?

31 Days of Fitness - Day 4

2011-01-04T09:15:00.001-08:00

I honestly thought after last night's workout I wouldn't be able to get out of bed, but I guess that's what dogs are for.

7am. Wet nose on my chin. Three sets of eyes looking at me like, "If you don't get out of bed right now, you're not going to like the result."

I'm up.

It took a couple cups of coffee and an hour or so of the Today Show, but I did it. Day 4. I was going to do yoga, but I felt like after last night's workout (and the -3lbs lost on the scale this morning) to keep the heart rate as accelerated as possible.

I really, really love Jillian's Banish Fat, Boost Metabolism DVD. It's seriously one of the best cardio workouts I've done. I still want to try Bob Harper's, but...I'm nervous. I've heard it's ridiculously brutal.

Maybe tomorrow, if I'm feeling masochistic.

Day 4

Workout: Jillian Michaels Banish Fat, Boost Metabolism

Location: My living room

Equipment: Exercise mat, Garmin FR60 HR monitor

Start Time: 10:00am

Total Time: 55:00
Calories Burned: 602

Average HR: 158

Max HR: 190

Since I'm still on break and M's still on break, we're heading into Springfield today. Yay! We have absolutely no idea what we're going to do once we get there, but that's the fun of just running away for the day.

Speaking of running away, I had to pause my workout halfway through because I happened to glance outside to see UConn out in the front yard sunning herself near the ditch. Um...just 10 minutes earlier she was hooked in the BACK yard. I know she was, because I personally double-checked since she got loose yesterday. And the day before that. And the day before that...how in the world does this dog manage to escape so much?? I just can't figure out how she does it.

As for today's quote, I love this one. It's hanging on the wall at the Salem Fitness Center, and it's fabulous:

"A man's health can be judged by which he takes two at a time - pills or stairs." ~ Joan Welsh

How's that for motivation?

31 Days of Fitness - Days 2-3

2011-01-03T18:54:00.003-08:00

So I had a good, pure and holy reason all made up in my mind for why I didn't post my fitness results yesterday...something along the lines of "it's the Lord's day," or "honor the Sabbath day and keep it holy."

But I can't lie.

I was too involved in re-reading the entire Twilight series from start to finish. Start, being Saturday morning. Finish, being Sunday night.

Baz-inga! Four massive novels in two days. M keeps whispering "you're a freak" in my ear. And shouting it at me from the other room.

I love to read!! Nerdynerdynerd.

Anyway, I still made time to get Day 2 in.

Day 2

Workout: Jillian Michaels Yoga Meltdown

Location: My living room

Equipment: Yoga mat, Garmin FR60 HR monitor

Start Time: 7:30am

Total Time: 35:00
Calories Burned: 208

Average HR: 118

Max HR: 168

And today's - which was BRUTAL. Susie Cahill, you kicked my butt. Actually, you killed my arms. I can't reach up to wash my hair. That's how bad I hurt. And I really, really need to wash my hair.

Day 3

Workout: Cardioblast Class

Location: Salem Fitness Center

Equipment: Exercise mat, Garmin FR60 HR monitor, 3lb weights, 5lb weights, step block

Start Time: 6:45pm

Total Time: 01:05:00

Calories Burned: 682

Average HR: 150

Max HR: 184

How are the rest of you doing so far? Any fun fitness ideas?

"Fitness to me itsn't about a crunch or a push up. It's about taking your power back." ~ Jillian Michaels

31 Days of Fitness - Day 1

2011-01-01T09:31:00.001-08:00

Happy New Year!

Know what that means??

31 Days of Fitness starts...now! Who's with me? That means doing some sort of workout every single day during the month of January - whether it's walking the dog around the block or pulling out an Insanity DVD. Mopping the kitchen with a little extra intensity, or training for a marathon.

Whatever gets you off the couch.

Confession: I'm bored to death with my Jillian Michaels 30 Day Shred DVD, and I wanted to try something new. So for Christmas, I was happy to open two more of her workouts - Banish Fat, Boost Metabolism and No More Trouble Zones. Along with that, I also got Bob Harper's Yoga for the Warrior and Cardio Conditioning DVDs that go along with his Body Rev series - think Insanity but with a way cuter instructor.

A little backstory: after hurting my knee during the Chicago Marathon and having a persistent right shin splint that refuses to go away, I was desperate to find a good workout that would allow me to build strength and tone without aggravating these nuisances.

I found it: Jillian's Yoga Meltdown.

Can you tell that I really, really like JM?

Plus, M got me a super-cute yoga mat and carrier from Gaiam for Christmas. It just begs you to workout on it:

After just two weeks of Yoga Meltdown, let me tell you - the stiffness in my quads and hamstrings are GONE. I can do toe touches and actually TOUCH my TOES. Amazing. My shin doesn't hurt - which is great because Jillian's Banish Fat DVD has some explosive moves, which is the reason why I stopped doing Insanity - those explosive plyometrics just about killed my knee and shin repeatedly.

So now it's time to get back in shape. Who's with me for the next 31 days? 30 minutes a day, 60 minutes a day, whatever you can do. It doesn't have to be complicated or difficult. Anything to get moving!

Here we go...

Day 1

Workout: Jillian Michaels Banish Fat, Boost Metabolism

Location: My living room

Equipment: Exercise mat, Garmin FR60 HR monitor

Start Time: 10:00am

Total Time: 55:00
Calories Burned: 598

Average HR: 160

Max HR: 189

What will you do today?

"I never regret it when I do it, but I always regret it if I don't." ~ Anonymous

Things to Ponder

2010-12-25T10:21:00.003-08:00

But Mary kept all these things in her heart and thought about them often... (Luke 2:19, NLT)

This is one of my favorite Christmas story verses.

Last night, at our Christmas Eve service, God gave me something to ponder, something to keep in my heart and think about often. It was all because of one phrase that hit me like it’s never hit me before as we sang Silent Night – all is calm.

The Savior of the Universe had just been born. God could have caused a bazillion fireworks to go off to announce the birth of his Son, but no. Jesus was born in a quiet little stable with nothing more than a couple sheep and a donkey around. Mary didn’t demand state-of-the-art medical care – she quietly wrapped her baby in a piece of blanket and laid him in a trough full of hay.

The only thing that announced His birth was a twinkling star in the sky. Sure, the shepherds got a pretty massive wake-up call from an army of angels, but as for the scene of the birth, it reads like it was pretty low-key.

How would I have reacted in that same situation? Demanding? Complaining because it was dirty and smelly and I was all alone with no family around? Sure, Joseph was there, but what do guys really know about birthing a child in a stable without the option of an epidural and hand sanitizer?

I keep reflecting back on this past year, thinking about choices I've made and my attitude about situations. They haven't always been good. People annoy me, situations frustrate me and sometimes I just want to give up. I will admit (for accountability purposes) that my actions towards people who annoy me or frustration situations at times have embarrassed me - when will I ever learn just to keep my mouth shut and mind my own business?

I was reading a couple online devotionals today, and came across a post that focused on this exact same verse that I love, and puts into words exactly what I’m trying to say here:

Our verse for today reminds us of a young woman at peace with her circumstances, trusting God no matter how things would work out. Fast forward 13 years later and she is still that kind, gentle woman — no yelling at Jesus, no threats, no yanking Him by the ear when they finally find Him. Instead, the Scriptures tell us that she treasured "all these things." Would I have been able to treasure that dirty stable? Would I have been able to treasure that seemingly errant teen?

As I pondered these two times where Mary is seen treasuring her circumstances, I began to wonder how often things go wrong in my life and I react instead of reflect. So I'm allowing these Scriptures to seep into my heart. Is my attitude, "May it be to me as You have said," or is it, "Okay, God, this is not the way it's supposed to be and I want You to fix it right away."

As we go through this season of celebrating Jesus' coming, I plan to work on my attitude when things don't go right. I plan to practice accepting God's plan when it doesn't match mine. I plan to learn to treasure and ponder instead of whine and complain. I plan to grow in my love and appreciation of Jesus, just as Mary did. I plan to marvel at His coming and revel in His glory. And most of all, this Christmas, I plan to search for Him everywhere, just as she did — and never lose sight of Him again.

From “Pondering and Peaceful” at Crosswalk.com

Reflect instead of react. Focus on God’s plan, not my own agenda. Treasure and ponder instead of whine and complain.

Sounds like great things to keep in my heart.

The One at 4 AM

2010-12-23T05:12:00.001-08:00

So, I've been up since 4:00am because the dogs needed to go out and M decided to start snoring. He's never snored...why he would start in the wee morning of the day we have an eight hour drive to Alabama ahead of us, I'll never know.

So here I am, watching the early morning news and keeping an eye on the weather forecast that's promising a white Christmas (that we won't be home for, but I think they're calling for flurries in Alabama - I'll take it!) and keeping an ear out for UConn since she ran out the door before I could secure her in the backyard. Knowing her, she's sniffing her way all over town, trying to find the most rank, disgusting thing to roll in/eat/bring home, and then she'll try to slip past me to get to the sofa where she'll roll and burrow until we want to toss the furniture to the curb - or better yet, light it on fire and just start all over.

I dream of wipe-clean leather.

So for now, it's just me, the news, a cup of coffee - always a bad idea before a massive road trip, but I don't care - and my laptop. I'm currently toggling between the Kindle books I want to download and an email I got from Clinique saying something about free overnight shipping. This could be dangerous.

A lot has happened over the past month - let me break it down for you. School (I'm sick to death of talking about school!). Finals. A five week break. I actually have time this year to decorate the entire house for Christmas. Last year we were so busy, therefore lazy, to put up a tree. We put presents around our fake fireplace heater. This year we have the tree, the wreaths, the icicle lights and the pine needles all over the living room floor.

I love this one from under the porch:

I also made homemade apple butter and canned it (as in mason jars and pots of boiling water on the stove - nothing exploded, so it was considered a success), and I've slipped into a habit of early morning yoga that doesn't flair up my right shin splint. Along with a Cardioblast class every Monday night until I go back to school, I might still be able to fit into my scrubs after the holidays are over.

I've also watched the entire first season of Glee, which M got me for Christmas, in the span of two days. I'm singing Journey in my sleep.

I'm also planning my little sister's baby shower - I love slipping the "little" in there because it sounds like a 12 year old got pregnant, but she's happily married and 15 years old. Just kidding...but that's how old she will always be in my mind. What happened to the little sister that used to pester me to death? She's having a baby, that's what. I'm a delirious Auntie-to-Be with the great honor of planning her shower and designing the invitations. Erin and Cole are major academicaholics, with about a million college/masters/soon-to-be-doctorate degrees between them, so of course their nursery is going to completely revolve around children's literature and the written word. If that baby doesn't come out quoting Kierkegaard and have a full understanding of exegesis theology, something will be terribly wrong.

It was only fitting to design invites that look like old-school library cards and handmade pouches from all different types of baby scrapbook paper:

If my sister doesn't do it first, I can't wait to introduce my new niece to the wonderfully imaginative books of Rohl Dahl, Madeline L'Engle and Lois Lowry. And E.B. White. And Beverly Cleary. No child should grow up without books like that. For a further list of my favorite childhood books, see this post from last February. And see my sister's comment underneath it. Love it.

So back to books...I've recently read my way through two of Terri Blackstock's series, Newpointe 911 and the Restoration series. Both are fantastic series - not wimpy, namby-pamby Christian fiction - these books actually have page-turner plots and believable characters. Full of action and mystery, with a little romance thrown in. I got so caught up in them, well, let's just say I read the entire Restoration series during Finals week. I know, I know...I'm a nerdy nerd bookworm. I've also been scouring Amazon for my favorite Billie Letts (author of Where the Heart Is and Made in the USA) book since my copy of The Honk and Holler Opening Soon disappeared when I moved out of the SBU dorms 10 years ago. I happily found the Kindle version, and (Amazon makes this way too easy) clicked to send it to my iPhone, along with Indivisible by my other favorite author, Kristen Heitzmann. Happy reading on the way to Alabama.

Oh, and M bought me the entire boxed set of the Twilight books for Christmas, which I do not mind re-reading. At all. Seventeen times.

Happy almost Christmas!

Almost 3-0

2010-11-11T09:07:00.001-08:00

So, it's apparently been a gazillion years since I've updated this blog.

Not really. Just four weeks. But when you're in nursing school, it feels like a gazillion years.

Full-time school will do that to you. That, and the fact I turn the big 3-0 in two weeks.

Spousal texts, dated 11-1-10:

Me: Happy birthday month to meeeeeee!!! (I like to celebrate all month long. It's tradition.)

M: Happy 30TH birthday month to uuuuuuuuu!!! hahahahahahahahahaha.

Me: Oh snap, JERK!!!

M: Muhahahahahahaha

I guess I deserve it. I made a huge deal over him turning 30 (a-hem, a couple years ago), and I was super-sweet, reminding him that he was married to a 20-something. And that I was still in my twenties. And the twenties are awesome.

Love.

Anyway, a lot has happened in the past month. I'm sure you all know by now (if you follow me on Facebook) that I'm going to be an Auntie in April! Or March. Or whenever my sister decides to push that kiddo out. She and Cole came to visit during my fall break in October, and we had a great time catching up on everything. And buying nursing tank-tops. And stretchy maternity pants that look like they would be really comfortable for the days I have 8 hours of lecture.

This is us at Eckert's, a really fun pumpkin farm/apple orchard place.

And yes. We like to wear plaid and be farmy once in awhile.

The happy parents-to-be.

This is the picture that made me do several things:

1. Wonder who in their right mind made plaid popular again.

2. Wish I wouldn't have given away my entire plaid 8th grade wardrobe.

3. Color my hair back to it's original shade. Maybe it's just the pumpkin, but my hair has an orangish tint. Ew.

4. Go back on Weight Watchers. Maybe it's just the pumpkin, but man, my cheeks are just as round as it is.

While Erin was home, we had a fun girl's shopping day with mom. And guess what? Remember my post about a month ago about new running shoes? Mom surprised me with them as an early birthday present! See, blogging really does make a difference in the world. :) And due to those shoes, I came in 3rd in my age group in the Sullivan 5K last weekend.

And yes. There were more than three people in my age group.

I have another 5K tomorrow night, and I'm a little nervous over a sudden shin splint that developed seemingly overnight. It hurts. I keep telling myself that I'll just walk this 5K, but I know me. When I get to the starting line I get all competitive on myself. I can't stop running. I know that if I do, I'll feel really guilty and weak at the finish line. Thoughts will go through my head like, "It's only 3 miles! Why did you stop and walk? It's ONLY 3 MILES!! You're weak! Keep running!"

And now you've just experienced a psychotic episode by Addie.

In other news, I started my pediatric clinicals at the end of October, and have discovered that I have the incredible ability to make a child cry just by walking in the room. What is it with me and kids? We just don't seem to mesh very well.

But I know that it's not fun for a kid to be in the hospital, and just being in that bed surrounded by beeping machines and anxiety-filled parents would make anyone cranky. I try to get them to smile during a procedure. During vital signs. When the Wiggles are on TV (they freak me out too. I can't blame the kid for crying at that one.). This rotation has definitely gotten me out of my comfort zone - I'm not the best at holding babies anyway, and add what seems like a hundred tubes and wires coming out of them and you get an Addie that's about ready to hyperventilate.

I think the thing that is my biggest challenge is the fact that they are babies. With adults, you can explain the procedure and why you're doing what you're doing. With babies and little kids, all they see is you coming at them with a weird thing around your neck and a cold disk you place on their chest. And then you stare at them for a full minute while you try to count their heart rate - not easy on babies who's hearts beat like butterfly wings.

And another confession: I LOVE, absolutely LOVE, my psych rotation. I love all of my unpredictable, absolutely fascinating schizophrenic patients. I want to put them all in my pocket and bring them home with me. I never in a million years would have thought that I would have become attached to psychiatric nursing, but I love it. Maybe it's because I can relate (see psychotic episode above for reference). Is it bad that I can totally follow a schizophrenic's train of thought? I can honestly see how they can make their connections from one random thought to another very easily. They are so sincere about it, and it makes me want to be their advocate, to protect them from people who laugh. Who don't understand. Who think they can't be helped. Who think they are a waste and a drain on society.

The people who point and laugh and have no compassion are the people with the real problem, if you want my honest opinion. These patients are amazing. They have so much to share and give, if only the world would give them a chance.

Career choice? Possibly.

Speaking of choices, I put my request in for my comprehensive clinicals in the spring. My name is in for the VA hospital (working with veterans who deserve the best care possible, with a little mix of geriatrics and psych thrown in), and for Med/Surg which will give me the chance to work with geriatrics/oncology.

I want to be EVERYTHING!

What I don't want to be is 30. Yet. Give me a couple more years, and then maybe I'll be ready. Maybe.

Today I love: An entire day off from class.

Today I don't love: Spending an entire day off from class studying for Monday's test.

Rescue Stories

2010-10-13T08:05:00.001-07:00

Those of you who are even just a little bit remotely familiar with me know the number one cause I support.

Rescue dogs.

So imagine how excited I was to find this message in my inbox this morning:

Hi there Addie!

Just wanted to let you know that Knuke is our Rescue of the Week this week! You can see the story and pictures here:

http://iloverescueanimals.org/2010/10/rescue-of-the-week-knuke/

Thank you so much for sharing his story. He looks like such a great boy. :)

Nikki Jeske
Co-Founder, I Love Rescue Animals
http://iloverescueanimals.org
http://twitter.com/RescueAnimals
http://twitter.com/LastChancePets

So in celebration of Knukie-pie being the center of attention this week, let's all help out the shelter animals everywhere. Volunteer at your local shelter for a day (or week. Or month. Or the rest of your life.), donate bags of food, cleaning supplies and/or leashes and collars. Write a check.

Or, most importantly, save a life and ADOPT A PET!!

Coming up in November I'm working with BFAS (remember the puppy mill rescue?) and their "First Home Forever Home" campaign - two whole weekends of campaigning for animal rescue and collecting food to go to local shelters and families in need who want to keep the pets they love. It's a national food drive - so even if you're not in my area, you can still help out!

Interested in volunteering? You can contact bfvolcoord@bestfriends.org. They'll put you in touch with their First Home Forever Home campaign specialist, and you're good to go! If you can't volunteer, I encourage you to stop by your local PETCO the first two weekends in November and make a donation.

The benefit?

Helping animals and local families, which in return gives you this incredible feeling I like to call "the warm fuzzies."

It's so worth it.

Do you have a great rescue story to share? Email me, post it in the comments section or send it to me on Facebook. I'll pick one (or all!) and post it on this blog!

Justifications

2010-10-09T07:42:00.001-07:00

It's fall.

That means that at the beginning of your early morning run you have your sleeves on, and by the last mile you’re ready to de-vest yourself of your coldtech gear and streak down the trail because you’re sweating bullets.

And then we all get pneumonia.

Hey. Some things are worth it.

This morning was a fairly decent run. 4.5 miles in 45:45…I really wanted to do sub-10’s, but there’s this ~~small incline~~ ~~steep hill-of-death~~ (ok, ok…flat-as-a-pancake stretch) at the end that slows me down every time. But I’ll take it. 4.5 miles in almost 46 minutes is way better than what I was doing this summer.

You know, sitting on my rear, wishing it wasn’t a million degrees outside, stressing about school and generally eating everything in sight. I was such the motivational girl, wasn’t I?

Speaking of school, I get done at 10am every Thursday. That means that I have almost an entire day to do whatever I want. I should probably use that time wisely to study, but, well, more important things usually come up instead.

Like finally making it a priority to find Fleet Feet.

A couple months ago I lost my precious little can of jogger’s mace, and, using that as an excuse went to buy another one at FF. I walked in the door and there they were right in front of me.

I grabbed one and headed to the cash register…where I met one of FF’s finest customer service reps.

They are good. A little too good.

An hour and a half later, I’m out the door with custom shoe inserts, the jogger’s mace and Todd the Sales Guy’s (actually, he’s a FIT Professional) business card with my brand-new custom-fitted shoe information on it.

Sucker?

Yes. Yes I am.

I'm usually an Asics girl, but the Fleet Feet guy said that Asics are "soft" shoes and that my form is better in Mizuno's. Apparently I have saggy arches (not really the body part I was highly worried about sagging) and he was particularly in awe of the mechanics of my right knee.

That’s the beauty of going to a place like Fleet Feet. They measure your feet, use some sort of software to tell you all about your arches and pronation, and then they have you try on a bazillion different shoes and take you outside to the parking lot so they can scrutinize your footfalls.

When I turned around to run back towards Todd, I saw his mouth hanging open. I was all ready for him to say something like, “Wow! You have great form!” or “Wow! Have you ever thought about quitting whatever you’re doing to become a professional marathoner??”

Instead, what I got was, “Um, wow! You’re entire right knee turns inward when you run! Did you know that? I’ve never seen anything like that!!!” Then he yells to his sales partner inside the store to come check out the freak of nature who at that particular moment wanted to rip out her knee and throw it at his face.

In all honesty, it was actually a good thing to find out. Five years of running, six pairs of Asics, four cortisone shots and countless bottles of Aleve later, I find I’ve been running in a shoe that’s perfectly awful for me.

He put me in some Mizunos, which up until that point I had only assumed were baseball shoes since that’s M’s footwear of choice. However, the Nirvana 6’s fit me like a glove. And they were pretty. And they help my saggy arches and will cushion my freaky knee.

And I want them.

And they cost more than my nursing school tuition.

I felt really, really bad – this guy had spent an hour and a half fitting me for shoes, and here I was just not going to buy anything. Seriously, I’m a sucker. I feel bad for taking up people’s time, so then I end up buying something from them so that they feel like their time wasn’t wasted.

M gets a little frustrated at me for that.

Maybe because that’s the justification I used for bringing home a new car several years ago.

But anyway. I listened to M’s ~~threats~~ words of wisdom bouncing around in my head, and I told the guy to write down the info and that I would put the shoes on my birthday list and send my parents in after the shoes.

So mom and dad, there it is. Don’t let Todd the Sales Guy down. The ball’s in your court. I wash my hands of his commission. It’s up to you to help him make a sale. No pressure.

Wow. Is that sad and pathetic? An almost-30-year-old still begging her parents for shoes?

All I wanted was some jogger’s mace.

Honest.

Falafaltastic

2010-09-30T17:24:00.001-07:00

Pharmacology test. Multiple clinicals. Fall festival in downtown Washington. Cupcakes down on the Central West End.

Just a few of the reasons I haven't blogged lately. Here's a rundown of my life the past two weeks...

I know you're super-excited.

Clinicals. My patient last week was under mandatory 72 hour sedation, so I got to see the wonders of propofol in person. The best part was getting to meet him this week...I shook his hand and said, "You don't know me, but I took care of you two days last week. You were a model patient. Very compliant." He laughed as best as he could around his trach and feeding tube. His wife was like, "Yes honey, don't you remember? You promised me a trip to Jamaica!" I really liked these people. My patient this week had MRSA, which means I sweated through my scrubs in about five minutes due to the requisite gown-and-gloves routine all day. You do what you need to do to get the job done, right?

I FINALLY got to go to the most fantastic falafal place in the city. You have no idea how much I've wanted to check this place out. Al-Tarboush Deli on the Loop - you have to try it sometime. It's Lebanese and absolutely falafaltastic. I just had it last week with my friend Teri, and I'm already craving it again. Note: unless you're into tight, crowded spaces filled with old church-basement folding tables, don't go for the atmosphere. But one bite into your chickpea-garlic yumminess, you won't even care that the walls are lined with hookahs and flavored tobaccos. Whatever. It's the Loop.

Our plate of hummus (covered in tomato, onion and cilantro and drizzled with olive oil) and my falafal:

See? Doesn't it look like a classy place?

After our Lebanese dinner, I asked Teri if she was up for some dessert. You know, something to wash away the insane amount of garlic we had just consumed. She looks at me and says one word: "Cupcakes?" And in that very moment, Teri earned seventeen crowns in heaven. She introduced me to The Cupcakery, located in the Central West End. She got the Gold Rush (yellow cake with chocolate frosting), but I'm a vanilla girl all the way. My choice was the Celebration, mainly because of the pretty sprinkles.

This thing would feed enough people for breakfast, lunch AND dinner, but of course I finished the entire thing while watching my friend Mel on The Biggest Loser.

You know. For support. Then I immediately collapsed into a sugar coma and woke up just in time to get to pharmacology.

I hope Mel doesn't mind I borrowed this from her facebook site - I think she and Bob make a wonderful addition to this blog post. I was so excited to see her on national TV!!! And kudos on the cute sunglasses, my friend!

Today was my Pharmacology of Death Test #1. After half a bottle of TUMS and semi-serious thoughts of jumping into the Missouri river, I'm proud to say that I passed the test! Passed. Passed. That's all that matters here, people.

I think this calls for another cupcake.

Speaking of reasons why I need to be burning calories, I'm starting up my workouts and running again. I'm following the Body for Life workout plan (again), and then running 3-4 miles (again) every other day. I was so excited about my run today that I just had to text M about it.

Me: Just ran 3.11 miles in 29.47 minutes!!!! Yay me!!!

M: Just drove 3.1 miles in 2 minutes 57 seconds. Yay me.

See what I'm up against? Thank goodness I love him so much.

However, he totally gets the Amazing and Thoughtful and Totally Hot Husband of the Year Award for this text earlier today:

I'm gonna clean as much as I can tonight.

Those words are music to a wife's ears. Especially this wife who won't get home from a week of classes and clinicals 140 miles away until 7pm Friday night, and only have a small window of time to clean and organize the house before his parents arrive for the weekend. We are very much looking forward to seeing Mom and Dad W., but I really don't think they want to sit on a couch covered in Suka. And Knuke.

UConn prefers sleeping on Matt's pillow. Which he appreciates.

But who can resist this face?

Can you tell I miss my dogs?

I can't wait to see this face either this weekend.

Brace yourself for the hotness.

He matches our red kitchen well. I think I'll keep him.

Except for the whole "Braves" thing. That will continue to be a source of contention in our marriage.

I choose my battles well.

Of the Devil

2010-09-18T08:10:00.001-07:00

Eggs are of the devil.

They smell bad, they taste gross and don't get me started on how the chickens are treated at the egg farms.

You've heard it all a million times:

I. Hate. Eggs.

In honor of all the nastiness that is little aborted baby chickens, I've done some research on egg alternatives. I'm not talking about the nasty, over-processed "egg substitute" you can get at the store - Egg Beaters still has eggs in it. It even says it on the carton:

See? Real Eggs. Ew.

Did you know it is completely possible to cook and bake without eggs and STILL have everything taste fantastic? I know! It's amazing!

(Plus, you can save the life of a baby chicken!)

So how do you do it? Here are some tips you can use to eliminate eggs from your cooking and baking:

Flax. Grind some flaxseed into a fine powder (my coffee grinder works perfectly for this) and substitute a tablespoon of flax whisked with 2-3 tablespoons of water per egg. This is a great way to get your Omega-3's and some fiber in too. Sneaky.
Bananas. Pumpkin. Pureed apples. Bananas and applesauce have long been used as substitutes for oil to make your baking less fattening. However, bananas also work well as a binder in place of eggs. The ratio is usually 1/4 - 1/2 a banana per egg, and I only recommend this if you are baking and like the flavor of bananas. One of those little individual cups of unsweetened applesauce (about 1/2 cup) works for just about any kind of baking (especially cake and muffins)...just be sure to refridgerate whatever you bake if you're not going to eat it in a day or two.
Plain old water. If your recipe only calls for one or two eggs, just skip the eggs altogether and add an extra tablespoon or two of water. It's magic!
For savory dishes, you can use great binders such as tomato paste, dried or mashed potatoes, or oatmeal (think meatloaf. Or in my case, TVP loaf).
I've discovered Ener-G egg replacer, and it's available at most health food stores. In all honesty, I've yet to try it, mostly because I'm cheap and water is free. If anyone does decide to try it out, please let me know if you like it!
Tofu! It's cheap, it's full of protein and it takes on the flavor of whatever you cook it with. The rule of thumb is about 1/4 cup of whipped tofu per egg. I've actually used tofu in place of eggs in a vegan lasagna, and you cannot tell the difference. I promise. You can also scramble tofu like you would eggs - mix with some chopped veggies and it's a great breakfast.

Try these tips out, see what you think and let me know how you like it. Trust me, you won't even know the difference. Happy eggless cooking!

Sources:

http://www.wikihow.com/Replace-Eggs-in-Your-Cooking

http://www.pcrm.org/health/veginfo/vsk/without_eggs.html

The one with the Code

2010-09-16T11:45:00.001-07:00

I don’t like it when the patient in the next bed codes.

I love it when my patient sleeps through the entire code and the millions of people who came running in, then wakes up and tells me he thinks he heard the guy in the next bed coughing and asks if he’s ok.

Know what happens during a code in a teaching hospital? Everyone and their second cousin comes running in the room to see what’s going on. 40 people crammed in a teeny little space with about 20 of those people shouting orders and grabbing meds was pretty much the equivalent of pure chaos. After about two minutes someone finally stepped up to call the orders, but until then it was madness.

Two minutes might not seem like a long time, but trust me. When you’re watching someone flatline, it seems like hours.

On one hand, it was kind of interesting to see what happens in a real code…not something scripted on House or Grey’s.

“I need more Propofol!” shouted one doctor.

I know what that is! I thought to myself. God bless Michael Jackson.

Anything to help you remember your meds, people.

On the other hand, it was slightly horrifying to watch this guy’s stats drop so incredibly fast. Incredibly fast. I had no idea you’re heart rate could go from 112 to 0 in the span of about 30 seconds. I was standing there, wanting to grab someone, shake them and say, “Forget the teaching part!! Someone just step up and save this guy’s life!!”

My friend Kayla and I did what any good nursing student should do: we grabbed each other’s arms for dear life and tried to stay out of the way. And shook like leaves. And got goosebumps. And pretty much freaked out…all while trying to not let it show on our faces (nursing student lesson #472).

In any case, watching doctors perform chest compressions on a guy who was sitting up and talking 15 minutes earlier really made an impression on me:

I have no desire whatsoever to work in the ER. My anxiety levels are too insane as it is. I’m the kind of girl that falls apart in disaster situations. Just ask my husband - the tornado sirens go off and I turn into a quivering puddle of uselessness.

I did enjoy the patient I was assigned to – a 60y/o guy with an incredible sense of humor who was in for phase II of a jaw reconstruction with a titanium plate and pec flap – and who’s eyes lit up at the sight of his Colace.

Or maybe it was the Percocet.

BASEBALL UPDATE:

The Licking Wildcats won their games on Monday and Tuesday! They have more games tonight and tomorrow, so we’ll see if they can keep this up. For such a young team – if you remember, we graduated five seniors – they’re playing pretty well together. Go ‘cats!

And it's been awhile since I've mentioned this, and I think it deserves some saying: my husband looks amazing in a baseball uniform. I love the coach. :)

The One with the Smells

2010-09-08T14:39:00.001-07:00

Clinicals, Day One: It's called Med Surg/ENT, and it is my Everest.

Scenario: Pt. who has smoked 1PPD (pack-per-day) for 25 years and has admitted that he's an alcoholic. 12 beers a day for who knows how many years kinda points to that, right? In any case, he's been diagnosed for throat cancer (two major risk factors for this particular type are excessive tobacco use and alcohol...so kids, take this to heart and stay away from ciggies and the bottle!) and had a trach put in a couple days ago. He can't speak, so everything is communicated by head nods, hand gestures (he was nice - no flippy flippies) and the old-school pen and paper. NPO (nothing by mouth) since midnight last night because of a surgical procedure later today, so the only fluids were via IV.

I get grumpy if I miss my mid-morning snack time, so I can only imagine how this guy was feeling.

I really, really tried to do my best. I wanted to make this guy's day a little brighter. And I honestly feel good about how I performed today - I helped get supplies ready for a blood draw, helped with two separate trach suctionings, hooked him up to his 02, measuring I&O (intake and output - it's exactly like it sounds)...little things like that. Nothing major since we're getting oriented to the floor, but it still helps you be a part of the process. This afternoon, the patient's RN was nowhere to be found, so me, the little Student Nurse, got to give report to the attending physician. Yeah, I felt like big stuff. And I made the patient smile...and that made me feel like even bigger stuff.

I only had one problem. I hate to even talk about it, because I want to be tough and there's no way that this could have even been controlled. It's not the patient's fault...it's just the way it is.

The trach secretions. The sight didn't bother me at all. I have dogs and grew up in a funeral home. Seeing yuckies doesn't phase me.

It was the smell that got me.

I won't even try to describe it, at the risk of making my dear, sweet husband throw up from 120 miles away if he reads this. While he's a fan of hearing about my day, he's not thrilled when I go into detail. I've learned to stick to the basics with him.

Anyway, first of all let me just say that I just feel so, so awful that I even let the smell bother me. At least I don't have to sit there all day and have it follow me around like this guy does. I need to man up - trach secretions are just a fact of life. It happens. You deal with it. You go in and clean it up and try to not make the patient feel self-conscious. At least this guy is alive and can (kind of) breathe. (Pray for him if you wouldn't mind another addition to your prayer lists. He's really a sweet man, just stuck in a horrible, lonely situation.) Everything in perspective.

But it's just the kind of smell that sticks in your nose...and mouth...for the rest of the day. (PS: Orbit, your Sweet Mint gum does NOT help at all.) Neither did my lemon hand sanitizer. I have never experienced anything like this in my life - funeral home smells are like rose bushes compared to the Med Surg/ENT unit.

I dealt with the best way I could - by not eating much of a lunch (The Med Surg Diet Plan??) and coming home to take an hour-long shower with anti-bacterials and a deep conditioner that smells like pears. I didn't particularly need a deep-conditioning, but pears smell so much the opposite of trach secretions.

But right now, sitting at my laptop, I can still smell it. And you know what? Rather than let it ick me out, I'm just going to deal with it. It will be my reminder that I have so much to be thankful for. I'm very blessed, and I don't even realize it half the time. I'm going to choose to let this smell be a reminder to thank my Savior for my life and good health. I'm going to let it be a reminder that, at any given moment, there is a disheartened, lonely person sitting in a hospital room that just got some of the worst news of their life. I'm going to let it be a reminder that there are people out there that need our compassion and care.

This is why I'm going to be a nurse.

Bring on the smells.

The One with the Two Left Feet

2010-08-21T20:16:00.001-07:00

Well, my summer break has come to an end.

It's been great. I've accomplished awesome and life-changing things such as sitting on my couch in my pajamas until 2:00 in the afternoon while downloading old Debbie Gibson (Electric Youth, baby!!) and Bangles songs.

Yesterday, I summoned enough energy to start packing to move back to the city. Although, I don't know if it's considered packing if I never really unpacked in the first place.

Yes. I was so smitten with the you're-on-vacation-so-you-can-be-a-complete-sloth concept that I didn't see the point of unloading everything just to turn around and reload it all up two weeks later. I had a nice rotation going with my Nike and Under Armour shorts and various baseball t-shirts I've collected from M's teams over the years.

Speaking of teams, we had church softball again last night. I cannot even begin to tell you how much fun it is.

And how horribly awful I am.

I don't know if you remember my confessional about how unathletic I am. For real. I couldn't hit a beach ball if it was rolled straight to me.

I was the girl who cried and screamed and begged and threatened to kill myself if my mother wouldn't let me quit softball when I was in middle school.

I wanted piano lessons. And painting class. And the freedom to read my precious Babysitters Club and Beverly Cleary and Judy Blume and Madeleine L'Engle and E.B. White books.

You could totally tell that last night.

Granted, I hit the ball each time I was up to bat. And I tried to get the first baseman to drop the ball instead of tagging me out - I guess bribes of $50 don't go as far as they used to. I did make it on base once, and due to the excellent hitting by the rest of the team I got to actually step on home plate.

However, the team has me catching. It's apparently the only spot on the field where I can do the least amount of damage, except to myself.

Yes. I fell. I wasn't even doing anything that spectacular. I was chasing a ball that someone threw in the general vicinity of home plate, and as I went to get it I tripped over my own two feet and found myself flat on my back.

The first thing that went through my mind?

I was wearing a clean white shirt, and the ground was a dirty dirt color. That means laundry.

I was so incredibly focused on the game, wasn't I? They should be proud to have me on the team.

I think I started laughing hysterically so everyone would think I did it on purpose. I delusionally like to distort reality like that sometimes.

As our team was running off the field, I heard some other people laughing and I looked over towards third base. There was someone rolling in the dirt shouting, "Who am I?? Who am I??"

It was my husband. The man who pledged his undying love and support to me in front of a church full of people 6.75 years ago.

He says he did it to get people's attention off of me because he knew I was embarrassed, but seriously.

Now we have two white shirts to wash.

Sheesh.

Our team won both games, no thanks to me. My husband, the spider monkey, is much more suited with quick reflexes catch anything that comes his way (the man can jump straight up in the air and catch a ball a gazillion feet over his head!!!) and the power to hit balls further than the pitching mound. Me, not so much.

But it was all in the name of Jesus - aside from the two brothers that almost got in a fight and the team that argued against our one-run win.

Ahhh...church league ball. Such good, clean fellowship.

Coming soon - a secret mission that's not going to be secret because I need the accountability. My 30th birthday is coming up soon (EEKKKK!!!) and I'm on a quest. It's something that The Husband said I will not be able to accomplish, so that makes this even more of a I-have-to-do-this-for-real-and-forever-amen thing. I'm calling it 30x30, and it starts Monday. Details soon!

The One with the Vacation

2010-08-06T19:10:00.001-07:00

My first semester of nursing school is over (crazy!!), and now I'm embarking upon the most wonderful 2.5 weeks of my life.

Vacation.

It's so liberating to actually have multiple days off that are free. This is the first time since the summer of 2002 that I haven't had to fill out a form for vacation days or personal days or call in sick just to sleep in.

Not that I ever did that or anything.

I finished my last final at 8:45am on Wednesday, jumped into the car and headed straight for the Lake.

The most strenuous thing I've done so far involved having to get up from the deck chair to change into my swimsuit to head down to the pool.

Uggghhh. So stressful.

I'm almost feeling too lazy to blog.

I have a couple vacation goals: get a tan, read books that don't require post-it tabs and a highlighter, and run EVERY day (4 miles this morning!). This girl is WAY not in shape anymore. Sitting through six hours of lecture every day do not do pretty things for your butt. I owe it to my thighs to pay some attention to them before I find myself back in class for another four months.

Speaking of getting in shape, M and I are currently doing the exact opposite right now. After a nutritious dinner of a frozen-custard Kit-Kat concrete, we're now sacked out on the couch watching reruns of Bones.

I wish mom and dad could be here with us. They were planning on being here tonight through the rest of the weekend since it's dad's weekend off, but due to a tragedy that happened yesterday, they didn't think it would be a good idea to head off for a weekend of boating and BBQ.

If you've watched the news in the past 24 hours, you've probably heard about the horrific accident on 1-44 involving a semi-truck, pickup and two school buses. Here's a link- the story is so sad. It's awful. I drive that stretch of road every day to get to school, and I can totally see how easy it would be to wreck there. Lots of construction, lots of curves in the road, and the traffic will move fast one minute and slam on the brakes the next. It's ridiculous and very dangerous, and you constantly have to stay alert. The driver of the pickup truck - 19-year-old Daniel Schatz - was from my hometown. He's a good 10 years younger than me and I don't really remember him, but his parents go to church with my parents. Mom told me today that the entire church is just devastated. Daniel was a good kid and apparently a great football player. I told M today that Daniel was a walk-on quarterback for Mizzou, and he said that he remembers hearing about an incredible Sullivan football player a couple years ago - M's pretty sure that Daniel was talked about pretty favorably in sports circles. There's a candlelight vigil going on right now on the SHS football field in memory of Daniel. Please just keep this family and town in your prayers, as well as everyone else who was involved.

As a Baseball Wife, it scares me to death to see accidents like this that involve school buses. I have a recurring nightmare that M won't return home from away baseball games - he has to ride the bus with the team, and of course they play all the schools that are gazillion miles away on the most curvy roads in the entire nation. The Night of the Tornadoes a couple years ago did nothing to alleviate my fears - the bus was headed straight towards the storm and I couldn't get a hold of M. Later, of course, he acted like it was no big deal. No big deal to him, maybe, but I paced a hole in the living room carpet and made all sorts of incoherent bargains with God.

I think the only reason he returned home safe was because God didn't want to deal with my ramblings anymore. For real, Child. Hush up. You're driving me crazy. He's on his way home. For the love. Shut it already.

Speaking of baseball, it starts all over again on Monday. The following week, M has teacher meetings and -gasp- school starts again for him. I don't know why that's so traumatic - he's a PE teacher. It's like vacation never ended, right? Oh wait. Except for the not sleeping in till noon thing. I guess I'll have to do that for him. Hee hee!

Today I love: napping in the sun and actually having time to sit and enjoy a cup of coffee.

The One with the Hypochondria

2010-07-27T19:29:00.001-07:00

Cami-girl and I went for a little jog/walk tonight.

The jog turned into a walk solely because of the disgusting humidity that made me sweat through my shirt.

Not because I can't move my rear up the gigantic hills in the subdivision. That's not the reason at all.

Not because I've spent the past three months sitting on my butt in class and not exercising and have completely lost all endurance and muscle tone.

Nope. That's not the reason at all. It was completely the humidity. Yeah.

So as Cami and I trudged up the last hill towards home gasping and panting (me, not her) I saw a little girl pushing a stroller.

How cute, I thought. She must be pushing her baby doll.

As I got closer, I saw that, in fact, it wasn't.

It was even better.

This cute little girl was pushing her teeny little white fluffy dog down the street!

As I passed her, I told her that I liked her puppy and thought it was cute.

"She's my baby," the little girl replied. So. Cute.

It reminded me of when my sister and I were little, and we would dress up our kitty cats in doll clothes and push them up and down the sidewalk in front of the house.

Sure, our house was also the funeral home and people going in for a service would look at us like we were from another planet, but hey. Like I said, we grew up in a funeral home. We were used to weird looks.

Speaking of weird, I've self-diagnosed myself with about 29 bazillion different pathologies in class this week.

I just know that I have:

GERD (From all the caffeine I've been downing between classes. And in the morning. And before bed. And while I brush my teeth.)
Anxiety-related ulcers (Because I don't know if M is feeding the dogs properly while I'm gone during the week.)
Orthostatic hypotention (How else do you explain the dizziness and wanting to pass out after riding The Batman seven times in a row at Six Flags?)
Hypoglycemia (M just says I'm crabby because I'm tired or hungry or both.)
Schizophrenia (Which gives me nightmarish hallucinations of not answering entire pages of pathophysiology test questions)
Bipolar disorder (Why else would I have thought it was a good idea to quit a perfectly good job and go back to school full-time??)

See? I'm melting.

Mmmmm....melting. Ice cream. Preferably vanilla with those little chocolate sprinkles.

Today I love: Good friends who let me vent about classes and the tomato-pesto pasta with pine nuts (say that 10 times fast) that Gretchen made for dinner. That deserves another "mmmmm!!"

The One with the Last Day

2010-07-24T12:45:00.001-07:00

Yesterday was my last day of OB/Maternity clinicals, and man, what a way to wrap it up.

6:00 am - we get to the hospital and wait for our assignment, which includes finding out what nurse we'll be with and who our patient for the day is.

6:30 am - I'm in the Level II nursery! I asked - since it was my last day - if I could be in there. Level II is one step down from NICU, and I wanted to experience what it would be like to care for the sicker babies. It was a little intimidating - some of those kiddos are itty bitty and have wires coming out everywhere.

I was assigned to a baby with a mild case of pneumonia who was just about the cutest thing ever. I got to feed him, change him and rock with him for a little bit. He fell asleep in my arms, perfectly content and peaceful. Then a little later in the day, his world came crashing down into a million pieces.

Yes. The doctor came in for the inevitable "C" word.

My job was to provide a pacifier dipped in sweet-ease and whisper promises to him like, "Hang in there little guy! This will be over soon! You're doing great!"

The doctor was quick and efficient, and explained the entire process to me as she worked. She even asked me if I had any questions, and didn't seem to think that I was dumb for asking things like, "So, what happens if parents elect not to have this done until the kid is 12 or something?"

Seriously. I've heard stories about that happening. Ouch.

M. didn't want to hear the details.

In any case, it was an interesting procedure to watch - completely the opposite of what I thought it would look like. My little guy only seemed to be upset about being held down for the process - afterwards, he fell back asleep, completely exhausted from his rough morning.

At 1:00, we left the floor to get our lunches and sit down for post-conference. I'm getting ready to take a bite of my lunch when my clinical instructor came in the room and said that there was going to be a c-section at 2:00, and would I be interested in watching?

Um...do I even need to stop and think about it?

So instead of eating lunch, I found myself in the nurses' locker room scrubbing in and helping move the patient from triage into the OR. The patient and her husband were an AMAZING couple - very generous and more than happy to have students along. And the nurse I was with was also fantastic - she let me do more than I thought I would be able to do.

Aside from the basics like putting a blood pressure cuff and compression cuffs on the patient and making sure the fetal heart rate monitor was attached and working properly, I also got to hang an IV bag - which is NOT easy when you're barely 5' and the IV pole is a gazillion feet above your head. The patient started laughing and said, "Come on, Shortie!" Haha. Very funny. So glad I could take her mind off of her impending surgery with my congenital abnormalities.

Once in the OR, the nurse had me and my classmate Natalie do things like help count instruments and write them down, help make sure that everything was where it needed to be - and the most important part - helping calm the patient as she got her spinal. Natalie wanted to watch the spinal go in, which was fine with me. I got to do what I'm really interested in - standing in front of the patient, my hands on her shoulders helping her stay as relaxed as possible, talking to her and trying to keep her from freaking out about the needle going into her back. We had a great time talking about her little baby that was on it's way, her son that was waiting to meet his new little brother, and what her husband was probably thinking as he waited for us to call him back to the OR. What made me really feel like a real nurse was when the patient felt comfortable enough to lay her head on my shoulder while she was trying to relax. I absolutely loved being able to be a comfort to her. At least I hope she felt that way. :)

Once the c-section was underway, Natalie and I took orders from the scrub nurse and got to actually be a part of the entire procedure. I thought, after talking to some of my classmates about their c-section clinical experience, that we'd only be able to stand back out of the way and watch. Holy cow, not in this case! When they told us to put on gloves and stand in closer, I was like, "Whoa. Seriously??" I mean, we didn't do anything major like stitch up the momma or pull out the baby, but we were handed instruments and sponges to either soak in sterile saline or put in the sponge counter (you don't want to leave any in the patient!). I made ice packs, helped with the erythromycin on the baby, calculated the Apgar score and charted the baby's vitals, put away instruments and helped wheel the patient's bed from the OR to her room on the Maternity floor. Once in the room, we re-hooked up her IV, hung more bags of LR (insert more short jokes here) and made sure the catheter wasn't twisted and hanging from the bed. So seriously, nothing major, but it still made me feel like an integral part of the process.

Oh, and at the request of the dad, I was handed his camera and asked to take pictures. It. Was. Awesome. Such a happy, healthy family! And such a great experience to cap off my last day of clinicals.

What made Natalie and I really giddy was that after everything was over, our clinical instructor came up to us and told us that the scrub nurse was really happy and complimentary about how we did during the whole thing. Yay! A for-real nurse thought we did great! That made me just about float down the hospital hallway.

To summarize my entire OB clinical experience, I'm happy to say that I got to do a little of everything this past month:

1. Watch/assist with a vaginal birth

2. Watch/assist with a c-section

3. Take care of a post-partum vag mom

4. Take care of a post-partum c-sect mom

5. Watch a circumcision

6. Take care of Level II babies

7. Gave my FIRST INJECTION on Thursday!

First kisses, first day of school, first steps down the aisle and first injections. Highlights of any girl's life. :)

If only studying for my next Patho test could be as interesting...

Today I love: Diet Coke that allows me to stay halfway awake to study and the beauty that is indoor air conditioning.

PS: I'm back to renaming my posts via Friends episode titles. I just can't help it. I'm an addict.

Variations on a Summer Salad

2010-07-18T16:08:00.001-07:00

I've studied for Pathophysiology Test #2 for three days straight (with a small detour to the St. Louis Zoo when family was in town yesterday) and now I need a break.

So what do I do when I need a break? Play with food!

Several of you have emailed/facebooked me asking if I'm "still vegetarian" while going to school and how it's going. The answer is yes, and it's going well. The thought of eating animal flesh still makes me gag. Nothing's changed there just because I'm in school...just so you know. The only thing that's really changed is my intake of Sunchips and chocolate. Let's just say that after a full day of patho and maternity/lifespan lecture along with clinicals, it's necessary for survival.

And for anyone who cares, Pita King at Union Station in STL makes a wicked falafel.

Going veggie is fun and yummy, especially with recipes like this one. It's awesome for summer and is packed full of protein and healthy fats. The original recipe is from my friend Stephanie...I hope she doesn't mind my variation on her version. I just had to see what would happen if I added an avocado. :)

Summer Bean Salad

1 can black beans

1 can corn

1 red pepper

1 green pepper

1 avocado

green onions

2 T olive oil

2 pkts Splenda

Drain the cans of beans and corn, dump into a large bowl. Cut up your peppers and onion and mix everything gently so you don't squish the beans.

LOOK!! This is the first time I have ever attempted to cut an avocado! And good night, those things are weird.

My sister's advice was to watch a youtube video on how to cut one, but by then the damage was done. I don't know how in the world you're supposed to cut nice, even slices - all of my avocado "cubes" look more like "geometrical shapes from another dimension."

Once everything is mixed together, drizzle the olive oil and sprinkle the Splenda over the whole thing. Gently mix and put in the fridge. It's awesome as a side dish or - as I'm going to use it - for a light lunch between classes. I thought the avocado would make it a little heartier so I don't get hungry right away 30 minutes later.

The best thing to do is to make this the day before you need it - the Splenda/oil dressing really helps mellow the onion and bring all the flavors together.

I also picked up some cranberry applesauce and some watermelon at the store. This is gonna be a goooood week!

Now I feel guilty for taking a break from studying...back to the books. Fantastic.

Today I love: learning new things like how to cut an avocado and the fact that Mosby's Pathophysiology Memory Cards is the best purchase I've ever made in my entire life.

Babyphobia

2010-07-10T20:15:00.001-07:00

You all know how I am with babies.

They freak me out. I don't know what to do with them. They're needy, hungry and slobbery, they have absolutely no muscle control so I'm constantly afraid their head will fall off and they look at me with a face that says "I know I scare you to death, so therefore I will pee on your arm. Deal with that, lady."

So it's no wonder that my very first clinical experience ever just happens to be in OB/Maternity. God has a wonderful sense of humor.

I'm at St. Clare hospital in Fenton, which is stinking awesome. The hospital is just over a year old, state-of-the-art and just plain fancy. All of the rooms in the Family Birthplace are private, and you could fit about four of my bedrooms inside each one. Each room has a giant flat-screen TV, DVD player, walk-in shower, pull-out couches so the husband/significant other can spend the night the ENTIRE TIME that mom is in there, floor-to-ceiling picture windows and hospital beds that have actual oak headboards. Oh, and round-the-clock room service with a full menu. The hospitality area on the floor has a place where families (and nurses!) can get free coffee, tea and...wait for it...slushes! Since pregnant women are usually put on a liquids-only diet before delivery (in case they have to have an unexpected C-section...you don't want to go into surgery with a full tummy!) it's an understatement that they are thrilled with the prospect of a yummy slush vs. the usual ice chips.

The nursery is really cute. The floor and ceiling are decorated to match the walls, and all of the bassinets look like little oak dressers that roll up and down the hallways. It was fun to walk in and see about ten babies just lying there all rolled up in their blankets like little baby burritos.

So anyway, our first day was Thursday. I will admit it was a little boring (ok, a LOT boring)...paperwork, meetings, more paperwork, tours of the hospital, lunch, then more meetings. We didn't really get to do anything, so it was kind of blah. One great part of the day was when some people I know from my hometown of Sullivan walked into the cafeteria while I was there eating lunch. It was pretty sweet to see some familiar faces on my first day to help calm me down. :)

Friday was a different story.

Let me start out by saying that we're doing 10-hour rotations. We have to be at the hospital by 6am (which means I get up at 4:30 and am on the road by 5:15) and in the nursery scrubbed out by 6:15 to get our assignments from our clinical instructor. Once we find the nurse we'll be shadowing for the day, we get hear the night shift give report to the morning shift around 6:30. After that, we're on the floor.

For real.

I was thinking that since Friday was our first "real" day on the floor, it would be more like a stay-out-of-the-way-and-observe-and-try-not-to-knock-anything-over sort of experience.

So, so not what happened.

The patient I was assigned to just happened to be dilated to a 4 by 6:30am. The nurse I was following was pretty cool and pretty much told me everything that was going on...and showed me everything that was going on. And told me things I could do while everything was going on. She had me take vitals on the mom every hour, get pillows, sheets, ice, and everything else that a mom-to-be would happen to need. We checked the fundus during and after contractions, set up IV meds and met with anesthesia about the mom-to-be's epidural. At 10am the doctor showed up to check the patient, and said she was complete, which I quickly figured out meant that she was now dilated to a 10. Then the doctor left and told us to call him when it was time.

HOLY COW. The baby was on it's way! The nurse showed me how to read the monitor that shows contractions, and I was told that every time a contraction came to grab a leg (the husband had the other one) and to help the mom breathe and count while she pushed. It was AMAZING to help this woman through the birth! The nurse pretty much did everything, which surprised me...I thought the doctor had to be in the room for all of the things like checking the position of the baby, help the mom push, etc. - but the nurse did it all until the baby's head was crowning. Then the doctor came in and took over. He looked at me and asked me to raise the bed a little...and I froze. I mean seriously - how hard is it? You push a button. But this is REAL. It's not playing "little nurse" in the simulation lab - this is a REAL doctor asking me to do something REAL in a REAL situation.

Freakfreakfreakfreakfreakfreak!!!!

But I did it and came through with flying colors.

Yes. I raised a bed. Tomorrow I will conquer world peace.

But seriously, it was a fabulous experience. When the baby came out, I teared up a little. I mean, really. Let's put this into perspective. I'm just a little student nurse who was graciously allowed in the room during this incredible experience that someone I didn't even know was going through. Little old me who knows how to do little more than put in an IV and change a bedpan got to help a little LIFE come into the world.

My first thought: how could anyone not believe in God after seeing that? Such a cool little miracle.

Afterwards, we got the baby cleaned up and the nurse let me do the newborn assessment.

Fact: babies do NOT like getting their temperature taken.

Another fact: babies love the blankets that come out of the warmer. And so do I. A blanket warmer is now on my Christmas list of absolute necessities.

To date: best day ever.

Today I love: unforgettable experiences and lots of coffee (with Splenda...I'm officially - and unapologetically - back off the wagon with that one.)

Fast & Furious Update

2010-07-04T07:33:00.001-07:00

Last week we had finals and started our next round of summer classes. Exact. Same. Week. That was fun.

Actually, it is fun. Seriously. Why haven't I done this before? I always told myself that I was more into the arts than the sciences, but now when I hear things like "molecular genetics" it makes me want to do that. And forensics. And oncology. And neurology. And anything else that might require a Ph.D.

Neurology is near and dear to me, for obvious reasons. Maybe now my sister will let me give her her shots.

Probably not.

Have I ever mentioned how gorgeous the SLU medical campus is? I particularly like the fountain with the rubber duckies in it. It helps put things in perspective.

My cousins surprised me with a giant cookie-cake the week of finals. Icing. Giant cookie. Giant cookie with chocolate in it. Do they know me or what? And I especially love the band-aid. Very cute.

I have lost all concept of time. For instance, if it's Thursday and I have to think about something that happened the day before, it feels like it happened three weeks ago. SLU crams a LOT into each day.

So pretty much, if I forget your birthday or plans we made or how to spell my own name, that's the reason why.

Clinicals start this week. I happily found out that I'm at the hospital I really wanted - St. Clare in Fenton. It's a gorgeous new hospital in the suburbs, which means I won't have to drive into the inner-city on Thursdays and Fridays. I'm just a little nervous about the five-page clinical document that outlines everything we'll be doing (or aren't allowed to do)...I still feel like I'm dressing up for Halloween every time I put my scrubs on.

M and I are at the Lake this weekend for a much-needed break. Me from studying and him from his nuts-o baseball/basketball schedule. So far we've slept, gone down to the pool and slept, watched a movie, slept, went out to dinner and slept some more. Today is overcast and rainy - which means it's the perfect napping day. Rock on.

Yes. We're that boring. And we're perfectly ok with that.

Goal #2 for this weekend was accomplished. I got my tan in before the clouds came.

Goal #1 was my three mile Lake run. Goal #3 involves some sort of frozen dairy concoction with M&Ms and/or Snickers. I'm not choosy.

In a dream world, we wouldn't have to work and we could sit out on the back deck with coffee and watch the sun rise over the lake very morning.

"We" being "me." M doesn't wake up until the sun is very high in the sky. Very.

Speaking of running, I still want to do the Lewis & Clark half again this fall. I have some friends coming out to run it, and if anything the L&C has the BEST long-sleeve tech race shirts and medals.

My longest run this summer has been only 3.55 miles. I need to get a move on.

Running has been my sanity. I can easily be a stress-eater or stress runner, and running is definitely the better option. Plus it doesn't make you feel guilty the next morning.

There is an awesome running/cycling trail in Washington, as long as the river doesn't flood. It came close last week.

I need to finish my portion of our pathophysiology study guide today. I feel absolutely no motivation to do so right now. I'm very much the procrastinator.

It's time for more coffee.

Lemon Chicken with Morphine, Please.

2010-06-19T19:05:00.001-07:00

I probably shouldn't blog about this, especially on the eve of Father's Day, but I'm going to. It's just too hilarious not to share.

Friday night. I'm on my way home from school - stuck in rush hour traffic since I left school later than usual because I wanted to stick around the lab and make sure I could start an IV (kinda an important RN skill to know, you think?) - and I get a call from my mother.

"I just wanted to let you know that I just brought your father to the ER because he can't walk and is in so much pain that he's almost in tears. Can you call your sister and let her know?"

That sentence was followed by a rush of "thedoctorshereIgottagetbackinsidetohisroomrightnow" and then mom hung up on me.

First, let me tell you something about my family. We live for drama. A couple snowflakes quickly erupt into a massive blizzard in a matter of milliseconds in our world.

I guess that's why when I called M to tell him about the situation, he got less than worked up about the news. "He'll be fine. Chill." he told me.

My man knows how to bring me back to earth. Rapidly.

In any case, I decided I should probably stop by the hospital in my parent's town since I would pass right by it on my way back home anyway.

Here's the basics:

1. Dad is a funeral director

2. Funeral directors lift people

3. People are getting heavier

4. Dad's already had three back surgeries because of #1, 2 and 3.

So we're kind of thinking he threw his back out again. Is it a slipped disk like before and he needs surgery again? Is it purely muscular and he just needs to rest? I'm not a doctor, and I'm not an MRI machine. But what I do know is that they gave him three shots of Morphine and nothing worked. Sure, his pupils were like little pinpoints, but he still couldn't sit OR stand...an interesting combination and rather entertaining to watch.

The PA came back in the room and said that they had one more option. They had one more narcotic they could try, but then that's it. Either the drug works, or dad's out of luck.

Demerol.

One time. One shot. One thigh.

Why not? Load'm up. I was happy to be in the presence of these potent drugs since my Pharm lecture just six hours earlier covered the major pain meds. And now I was about to see them in action.

Oh. My. Gosh. What happened next made me very, very glad I stayed in the ER with him for two hours.

Just like I learned this past week in class, an IM (intramuscular) drug takes approximately 7-12 minutes to kick in. And oh boy, did it. I could just kick myself for not having a video camera. This would be viral on YouTube right now.

The sequence of events is as follows:

1. Dad gets a shot of Demerol in his left thigh.

2. Dad sits in his wheelchair, waiting for it to kick in.

3. 10 minutes later, his pupils all but disappear.

4. He starts humming.

5. His feet start tapping.

6. Dad looks at mom, then me, then up at the ceiling. He proceeds to have the following conversation with himself:

Dad: "I want Chineeeeessssseeeee for dinnnnneeerrrrr. Yessssss. I doooooooo. I like orange chicken. Do YOOOUUUU like orange chicken?" (major emphasis on the orange.)

He then looks at me in all seriousness and wants an answer.

Me: "Um, well, no, I like lemon chicken."

Dad: "Lemon chicken. Lemon chicken. Lemon chicken. Lemon chicken. Lemon chicken."

Silence. Mom and I look at each other, completely aware that dad is officially out of it. We immediately crack up - and dad is completely oblivious to our laughter, which makes us laugh even harder.

Dad: "Leee-mohn, cheeee-kohn. Leee-mohn, cheeee-kohn. Leee-mohn, cheee-kohn." Imagine a really, really bad French accent here.

And, if you're wondering, dad does not know how to speak a lick of French.

He says "Leee-mohn, cheeee-kohn" over and over and over. About 16 times.

Then dad decides to mix it up with a really bad southern-accent version of "Peee-caaaan, cheee-caaaan." At this point, mom and I are laughing so hard we're afraid we're going to pee our pants. Nurses are walking by and peeking in the room, shaking their head and laughing with us when they see it's dad. (They know him pretty well out there...seeing what his profession is and all.)

Dad: "Leee-mohn, cheeee-kohn. Minty Beef. Hmmmm. Is Minty Beef a chicken dish?"

Then, without skipping a beat, he launches straight into the first verse of "A Hundred Million Miracles" from Rodger & Hammerstein's Flower Drum Song.

I can't make this stuff up.

And this is my family.

Note: I left before dad was discharged from the ER, but it turns out they're going to try to get him into his primary care doc on Monday. He'll probably have to go see his back specialist in St. Louis - I think we have the guy's cell on speed-dial and put his kids through undergrad and graduate school. And just as an FYI: When people use narcotics exclusively to control pain, it is unlikely that they become addicted or dependent on them. A patient in the ER for measurable pain is given a dosage of opioids strong enough to reduce their awareness of pain but not normally potent enough to produce a dependant state. Narcotics used for short-term medical conditions rarely require weaning since stopping the medication after a brief period rarely produces adverse effects. (from a combo of my pharmacology notes and WebMD.)

Smiling About...

2010-06-17T20:41:00.001-07:00

Pancakes and coffee for dinner with Grandpa.

Cami, my cousin's dog. The word "snausage" immediately comes to mind.

The second shelf under "Diseases" at Barnes and Noble.

Katie's awesome job of motivating me during midterms last week.

Making sure my mom had red lips in the drawing of my perception of "family" during Communication Lab.

Wearing scrubs for practicums even though we didn't have to. I feel like I'm playing dress-up.

Today I love: Umbrellas and passing what was an easier-than-I-thought-it-would-be Basic Skills Practicum.

Running Amok

2010-06-06T10:47:00.001-07:00

I used to be a 9:30-to-bed-girl.

I remember the good ol' days of putting on my PJ's around 9:00, while listening to the taunts and teasings of my Beloved, who's internal clock is definitely the complete opposite of mine. I would snuggle up in bed by 9:15 with a couple dogs and a couple books, a mug of hot tea and my alarm clock set for 5am.

I don't think M even knows what 5am looks like. Seriously. Complete opposites. Night Owl marries Hyper Happy Morning Girl.

However, now with Week Two of school completed, 9:30 bedtimes are a thing of distant memory. In order to make time to study, do homework, organize lecture notes and, oh, let's say, eat dinner once in awhile, I'm finding out that 9:30pm is actually early. Too early to go to bed. I'm lucky if I even start thinking about bedtime by 11:30.

And I still get up at 5am.

I think back to when I was in school for my first degree. Living on campus. Studying...but not this much. Is it because I'm older? Have I turned into one of those obsessive non-traditional students that keep three different planners and try to have homework completed days in advance and actually read the textbooks?

Yes. Yes I have.

Granted, I'm getting ready to go into what's only the third week of classes. But guess what Week Three is?

Midterms.

Accelerated, remember? Holy snot, this is going so, so fast. I think one of the reasons I'm so OCD about everything is that somewhere, in the back of my mind, I keep reminding myself that hey - I better learn this, and learn it good. Someone's health and life will depend on it in less than a year.

My BA in English? I really don't think anyone would die if I forgot how to diagram sentences or misinterpret the symbolism in Keats' "Ode on a Grecian Urn."

Just this past week alone we've had our vital sign check-offs (passed! First attempt!), learned how to suction a tracheotomy and how to place catheters (male and female). That's on top of our four lecture classes, of which I've realized that Wednesdays are not my favorite day. Straight lecture, same seat from 8am - 4pm with an hour for lunch. Oy vay.

This weekend, I didn't go home (gasp!!). M had away basketball Friday night until really late, then away baseball all day Saturday and today. I would have seen him for a total of four minutes, of which we didn't really think was worth a tank and a half of gas. I miss him, and I miss the pups (didn't know that two of them went missing the other day until he told me LAST NIGHT!!!!!), but I got about 12 hours of solid midterm studying in. The only break I took was to take my grandpa out to dinner, which was more selfish on my part because I desperately needed coffee in order to continue studying into the wee hours of the night.

Anywhere grandpa eats has to have coffee, so it worked out well for the both of us.

About the dogs. Apparently someone accidentally left the back door open and two fuzzies escaped. M has no idea how long they were gone...he just noticed that the house was really, really quiet - the number one indicator that something is terribly wrong. He went to the back door and lo and behold it was wide open, just flapping in the breeze. He grabbed the treat jar and shook it out in the driveway, which of course brought Fatty-Mcfat-Fat dog (aka UConn) running back to the house for all she's worth.

Treats are her lifeline.

My baby, my precious, precious baby, was still missing. M said the only thing running through his head was "Crap!!!! I just lost my wife's favorite dog!!!" He drove around town looking for him, but seriously. Knuke is terrified of car rides. Like he's really going to come running up to the truck and jump right on in. Usually if M finds him with the truck, M has to park the truck, pick up the dog by his middle and shove all 100lbs of him into the passenger side.

It's quite the spectacle.

Luckily, M saw my sweet Knukie-pie standing in the field behind our house, and as soon as Knuke saw the truck, he bolted for the back door. Scary truck ride with livid master or treats on a pillow in the living room? He knew where to go.

But why on EARTH did I find out about this three days after the fact??

This is why we don't have kids, folks. I can see it now...

Officer: "Um, ma'am, did your kids get home alright the other night?"

Me: "WHAT?? I didn't even know they were out!!"

Officer: "Well, I saw them running all over tarnation and your husband was trying to mow them down with his truck."

Definitely going home next weekend. Between the Peanut Butter Cap't Crunch on the counter, corn dogs and chicken nuggets in the freezer and dogs running amok all over town, I'm feeling the need to go home see what's been going on.

And bring home some fruit and vegetables.

The Madness has Begun

2010-05-31T07:11:00.001-07:00

Accelerated BSN Option definition per the Saint Louis University website: The Accelerated BSN Option is an intensive three-semester, 12-month bachelor of science in nursing degree program designed for students who already have a bachelor's degree in another area of study.

See the seventh word in that sentence?

Major understatement. Major. Major major major.

I just completed my first week of the summer semester, and in doing so, feel like I've run seventeen consecutive marathons on three hours sleep.

(Good news: I'm not the oldest one in the class! There's a handful of 40, 50 and even a couple 60-year-old students. Yay from the girl who will be 30 in November.)

Let me break it down for you. The summer semester is nine weeks split into two sessions. The first half of summer consists of four classes, meaning I have mid-terms in two weeks. TWO WEEKS. Practicums are in four weeks (!!) and are pass/fail. Kinda need to know our stuff in order to start clinicals, right? Right now our classes are mostly lecture, with skills labs on Thursday and Friday afternoons. And when I say lecture, I mean sitting on your tookus from 8am - 12pm, then an hour for lunch, then another hour or so of lecture before going off to labs. The professors are very, very good at what they do and are surprisingly entertaining, so it's really not as bad as it sounds. (Kind of. Pharmacology for three straight hours every Friday morning? Coffeecoffeecoffeecoffee...)

The second half of summer (around the 4th of July or so until the beginning of August) consists of two classes along with clinicals in OB/Maternity.

Here's how I think that will play out.

SLU students walk into assigned care areas: "Hello, hormonal pregnant woman. You don't know me from Adam, but I'm a student with absolutely zero experience other than what I've learned in four crammed weeks in our skills labs, and I'm here to take care of you and your unborn child."

Now, for those of you who totally don't pick up on my dry sense of humor and sarcasm, I know that's not what will happen. SLU, if anything, is uber-preparing us for clinicals. Their nursing school is one of the top in the nation, and they're not about to let us go out there and sink or swim and totally poo up the reputation of the program. I have total faith that, yes, while I'm freaking out right now, I'll be much more confident and ready to hit the hospital floors (with instructor overseeing everything and holding our hand for the first semester) when it's time for clinicals.

So far, it's really been pretty great. Sure, it's a lot of work (um, that's what accelerated means, right?) but it's completely doable. I mentioned to my family that this is bachelor level work. It's not master's - been there, done that. The diploma's on the wall. It's not PhD level...maybe one day. But seriously. Bachelor-level work is so doable! It's just, well, accelerated. Our second day of class we had assignments due by midnight that same night. We have lots of reading and supplemental videos to watch that go hand-in-hand with our gazillion textbooks. We have papers due and more assignments this next week. Yes, it's a LOT. And yes, it's completely up to you whether you're actually going to read and watch the videos and check into Blackboard where our professors have posted more supplemental articles and notes. That takes a lot of organization and determination to hold yourself accountable to actually do it. But like I said...a lot of this is no-brainer stuff. I can do this.

I give thanks to my Jesus and my planner. And my Google calendar that pops up reminder notes on my computer and phone.

I also love and give thanks to my family. Seriously - without these people creating such an awesome support system, there is NO WAY I would be able to do this.

M is incredible. He's been texting little "thinking of you" and "hope you're having a good day" and "you're still not practicing IV's on me" notes throughout the week. Despite the fact that we're living apart from each other and hope to see each other on weekends as much as possible (with away and out-of-state baseball tourneys every weekend in June and July, this might get kinda tricky), we're both so busy that there's really been no time to sit and dwell on it. I'll call him on my way home from class, and he'll call me right before bedtime. My beloved spouse has hilarious opinions about those "OMG, I can't let you out of my sight for a SINGLE MINUTE!!" couples. It makes me laugh and praise my Jesus that He saw fit to unite two very independent people in marriage. Our love is so stinkin' strong that this is not going to break us at all. (Wow, how sappy was that??) If anything, we're going to grow closer than ever. Distance makes the heart grow fonder and all that stuff. (Sorry, sappy again. I just love my man. Deal with it.)

And my new awesome friend Amanda happens to be in the exact same situation...she is doing the AO program and her husband lives 2.5 hours away as well, but on the Illinois side. It's great to have a friend who is so much like you and knows what you're going through (and what it's going to be like to pack your car on a Thursday night and pray to God that you get out of class early on Fridays so you miss rush hour so you can get home to your husband faster). The first day of class we were both talking about our likes/dislikes/study habits/husbands/dogs...it is SCARY how much we are alike. Our dads are both named Jim, too. Freaky.

Major kudos goes out to Tom, Gretchen, Libby, Katie (and Jon when he's home) are my awesome cousins who are letting me bunk with them for an entire year so I can be closer to the city for classes. I was very, very apprehensive about asking them for this humongous favor (a year is a long time!), but they absolutely didn't think anything of it. They've folded me into the household like I've lived there for years. For real - I even swept and vacuumed their living room for Libby's graduation party the other day. I was afraid we'd all be like, "excuse me, pardon me, hope I'm not in your way..." But it's so not like that. Family is family, and we can all just walk around the house in our PJ's together. And watch Cardinal's baseball when the Pharmacology homework is done.

Now that my first week is over and I have a feel for what this program is going to be like, I think I'm going to be able to go into this next week much more relaxed and ready to roll. That was one piece of advice from a previous AO student who emailed me a couple weeks ago - just take it a week at a time. You'll go nuts if you look much further beyond that.

I have today off for Memorial Day. M and I have pretty much just spent the entire weekend watching TV and relaxing, aside from the couple hours I spent getting some homework done. I'll head back to the city this afternoon - Libby and I have a man to see about some horses. A man, meaning my uncle (and who is Libby's grandfather) who lives about 15 minutes from them, and horses meaning the new horses he just purchased that we just have to see. I'll definitely post pictures. I still have what could be considered a 12-year-old girl's obsession with horses. And I will never give that up. :)

I made some lemon-blueberry baked oatmeal to take back with me for easy, portable breakfasts this week, and I think I might make some black bean soup as well. One of our skills professors told us to think of this program as training for a marathon (a concept I can totally relate to, so yay!) - we need to get our sleep, eat healthy and generally take care of ourselves so we don't get worn out or make ourselves sick.

Sick people can't do clinical rotations.

And not doing clinical rotations means you're pretty much out of the program.

Obviously, that wouldn't be a good thing.

Except I can't stop looking at the Peanut Butter Captain Crunch M has sitting on the kitchen counter. Mmmmm....sugary cereal with no nutritional value. Why do I crave you so?

Where Loyalties Lie

2010-05-22T09:26:00.001-07:00

"I admire your loyalty to the man who saved your life," she said. "He was a hero. But he's not a hero anymore. The man who blew up the post office and ran me off the bridge and caught your house on fire is not the same man who saved your life in Vietnam."

"Tell me about it," he said, swinging around to face her. "He gave his life for me, and that means something to me."

"I know," she said. "It means something to me, too. I'm a Christian. I know about someone giving His life for me."

"No, you don't." He pulled his chair back out and plopped into it, looking smugly across the table at her. "You don't know about that. If you did, it would change every area of your life. Not a day would go by, not an hour, that you weren't thankful for what he did for you. You'd wear it like a robe. It would be all over your face. His light would shine out of you. But you don't." ...

..."How much time do you spend each day studying God's Word?" The question came like a spear through the air, impaling her right through the heart.

"I'm a busy woman..."

"When life is normal," he said. "How much time? Fifteen minutes? Thirty?"

"Sometimes." She said.

"Just think about it," he said. "A man gave his life for you, and you mostly ignore him."

"I do not ignore him! I'm in church three times a week..."

"So you think he died for you so you could walk in and out of his house three times a week? ... Because I pointed out that you can't possibly understand my loyalty to the man who saved my skin, since you obviously don't have much for the one who saved yours?"

~excerpt from Word of Honor by Terri Blackstock

Thoughts I'm challenging myself with this week:

Where do my loyalties lie? What am I choosing to let become more important than God? Luke 16:13 - You cannot serve two masters. You will end up hating one and being devoted to the other. If I choose to focus on something other than my relationship with God, I'm choosing a different master. It's ok to focus on school, work, family...just be sure to include God.

Something I once heard that is amazing and true:

Make a list of your priorities in order.

1. God

2. Family/Spouse

3. School

4. Running/Training

PROBLEM: DO NOT PUT GOD JUST AT THE TOP!!

To fix my list:

1. God

2. Family/Spouse + GOD

3. School + GOD

4. Running/Training + GOD

When you make your priorities, don't just stick God at the top of the list. Include him in EVERY ASPECT of your life! When you don't include him in all you do, that's when you open yourself up to life getting in the way and rearranging the priorities before you can even realize what's going on. You don't want to risk God ending up at the bottom. If He's included all the way through, He won't be moved aside!

And when I say "you," I totally mean "me." Completely preaching at myself here. I have to write things down to make them stick sometimes.

Unemployment. It kinda rocks.

2010-05-20T08:43:00.001-07:00

Friday was my last day of gainful employment. It was kind of fun.

For starters, this is what I walked into on my last day of work:

Yeah. I almost started crying.

Then, my co-worker Sarah brought the most wonderful thing in the world in.

No. Those are not yellow roses. Those are CUPCAKES. Cupcakes that LOOK like FLOWERS.

I think it's a great way to eat sugar and flour and butter and more sugar. People just glancing by think it's a houseplant, when in all honesty there's a gaping hole in the backside where you devoured three of the cupcakes...but no one can see.

Gluttony in secret. That's the best kind.

Then my boss surprised me with a going-away party that afternoon. Know what that means?

More cake.

Notice the cake with the paw-prints on it? It's nice to work with people who know you so well.

Or should I say, put up with my dog obsession and kindly humor me to my face.

I was really looking forward to this week being my "slothful-do-nothing-but-stay-in-pajamas-and-eat-cake" week before starting nursing school. There were plenty of leftovers, but I felt guilty hording all the desserts. I gave one cake to our EMT's before I left and the other cake went to our neighbors so I wouldn't be too gluttonous.

I kept the cupcakes and had them for breakfast though. Someone had to do it.

M wanted me to rest this week. Rest, relax and get ready for the stressfullness that will be nursing classes 8am - 4pm Monday through Friday for the next year, not including clinical hours and study time. And dealing with St. Louis traffic, which is quite different than my one-stoplight town I'm currently used to.

So here's what actually happened.

Monday. I stayed in my PJ's until 9am, then realized I was bored out of my mind. I ended up going into town to get some stuff done, cleaned (some of) the house and then started packing. Ran three miles with Stefanie. Unpacked then repacked, getting nervous that I'm going to forget something.

Tuesday. Ran two miles, then got ready to go to our first round of District games out in Hartville. Had multiple anxiety attacks since we were down 3-1 in the bottom of the seventh inning. About died when we hit a homerun then got another run in to tie the game. We ended up winning 4-3 in extra innings, after which I felt like I had run seventeen marathons back-to-back. I get way to emotionally involved in this stuff.

I came home after the game to mow since our weather forecast is less-than-favorable for the next couple days. Since we'd gotten buckets of rain the week before, lets just say it's been awhile since we've mowed. The dogs were getting lost in the yard.

Thankfully, our neighbors offered to let me use their zero-turn riding mower rather than painfully watch me struggle with our push-mower through the jungle.

I. Want. One.

Anyone have $3000 laying around so we can invest in an awesome riding mower? That thing was FUN. Sure, I almost ran into a tree and our yard is completely mowed in squiggly lines, but hey. The entire yard was mowed and done in THIRTY MINUTES. It takes me two days with the push mower!! It went so fast that it was comparable to riding a go-cart around the yard. I think I actually let out a whooo hooo!! a couple times.

Then I officially turned into a townie.

Driving the mower down the street in front of God and everybody to return it to it's rightful owners is a feat that everyone should experience at least once in their life.

I'm so country.

Country with my khaki capri pants and flip flops and giant sparkly sunglasses. That's appropriate mowing attire, isn't it?

Wednesday. I went back into town to finalize our baseball fundraiser cookbook (post on that coming soon), had lunch with a friend and then we went to Lowe's for an hour to look at plants. I hate that I haven't planted my tomatoes this year, but I just didn't feel that planting them and then leaving them would be such a good idea. I don't think that M would want to (ah-hem, remember to) take care of them while I'm gone, since he absolutely hates tomatoes. He would probably watch them die in glee.

Strawberry plants, he would love. Tomatoes, definitely not.

Needless to say, this week hasn't been completely restful. But that's ok. Things are getting done around the house, and today is a perfect gloomy-rainy-stay-inside-and-read day.

And now I want cake.

With all this free time on my hands (for three more days) I think I might try to make this tomorrow. Chocolate = calcium. And that's good for you.

Trust me on this. I'll be a nurse in a year.

Observations

2010-05-12T14:00:00.001-07:00

Wednesday. Thursday. Friday.

Those are the only days I have left until I say good-bye to my desk job and head back to school.

I know you're all keeping count.

Know what I counted today?

40 sixth graders traipsing through the hospital for 6th Grade Career Day. Headed up by the Marketing Department.

Which would be me.

Which is why I'm quitting my public relations career and heading back to school for something else.

Actually, the kiddos were really fun. They asked lots of intelligent questions - What do you do when there's a tornado in the hospital? Do you know my cousin/sister/uncle-twice-removed that works in (fill in the department)? What are we having for lunch? - and did great on the tours of various departments. The x-ray of some guy's abdomen with a house key in it was the highlight of the day. Kudos to our awesome Medical Imaging Department. They never disappoint.

But as I observed the students, one resounding question kept coming back to me over and over.

When did sixth grade girls start wearing mascara, eyeliner and heavy eyeshadow? And why does it look so much better than mine?

I wasn't allowed to wear makeup until a year after I got married.

Sort of. It just felt that long. I felt like I was the only high school freshman that didn't know how to put on mascara. (Actually, to this day I still don't wear the stuff. That wand thing coming at your eyeball is freaky.) Even clear lip gloss was a no-no...I was second chair trumpet. A serious wind musician never puts a foreign substance on her lips if she cares anything about the inside of her horn.

I just don't understand why a sixth grade girl would need to have perfected the Smokey Eye at that age.

And why they would look at me weird when I asked them if they could teach me.

I end up looking like a raccoon every time.

Mother's Day Project Unveiled!

2010-05-11T08:33:00.001-07:00

Now that all of the Mother's Day presents have been sent and opened, I can post about the awesomeness that was this year's gift idea.

Picture blocks that spell things!

I originally got the idea after looking through various pages on Etsy and had an "I can soooo do that!" moment in front of my computer. Especially since they were selling for $50 a set. (I'm now taking orders for picture blocks. $50 a set.:))

12 blocks of wood, sawdust all over the living room and one can of acrylic sealant (the odor of which still lingers in the kitchen) later, the project is complete.

Here's what you need:

Enough wooden blocks to go along with what you're trying to spell - I went to our local lumber store and asked for scrap pieces of 2x4's.

Things to sand with - sandpaper and a Dremel works great for rounding edges.

Paint - I used spraypaint because it dries so fast.

Photos

Decoupage glue

Foam brush

Acrylic sealant

Photoshop software

A good printer

First of all, if you do what I did and get the wood from a lumber store, they're going to be pretty rough. You'll want to sand down the edges, which in turn coats your entire living room with sawdust.

Why did I sand everything inside? Because The Office reruns were on.

Next, give them all a nice coat of whatever paint color you want. I chose black because I did the photos in B&W.

That's an old towel we use for the dogs. It's now in the trash.

I then re-sanded the front edges of the blocks to give them an antique-y look.

Next is where it's tricky if you don't know how to use a computer. I took old photos of me and my sister (M and his brother for my mom-in-law's blocks) and touched them up in Photoshop. I shadowed the edges, brightened some of the shadows in the pictures, then used some of my favorite fonts to create the letters. The letters got a nice little glow to help them pop. Important - measure your blocks before you start working on the pictures! You don't want to have to cut someone's forehead off just to get the photo to fit right. Print them out on regular printer paper and start cutting.

My favorite picture is the "O" - the obligatory bathtub shot. That's my sister, the conehead. Very fitting.

Next, get all your supplies ready. This after I cut the picture down to make it fit the face of the block.

Take your decoupage glue and spread it all over the face of the block. You will, without a doubt, get some on your fingers. That's part of the fun!

Once the block is coated, gently...GENTLY press the photo on top. GENTLY. Use a Popsicle stick to smooth the photo - you don't want any wrinkles. This is also tricky...smooth too much, and the paper becomes wet from the glue and might rip.

Let this dry. For real. Don't get in a hurry like I did and try to add the coats of decoupage and then have to rip the picture off and start all over again. Drying in between steps is mucho importante!!

This is the one I messed up. You're supposed to add a bunch of coats of the decoupage glue to set the photo, but not before everything beneath it dries. See the wrinkles? See how the color is coming off of my face? That's what happens when the paper gets too wet and you don't let it dry between steps. Dry! Dry dry dry!

Patience is not one of my virtues. (Amen, says my mother.)

Through trial and error, here is the finished project. I think it turned out ok.

Ignore the "E" photo - I took this picture before I re-did the wrinkly mess. But you can still get the whole effect of the blocks.

If you look carefully at the "A" photo in the Walters' blocks, you'll see my husband as a little punk at Disney World. He and his brother are standing in front of the castle and his brother is smiling like a good little boy...while M has a complete look of pure attitude on his face and stands there with his arms crossed.

Kind of like our wedding pictures.

So happy Mother's Day to all of the mothers out there! I hope you all had a fantastic Sunday. xoxo

Trees for Textbooks

2010-05-08T14:57:00.001-07:00

So what happens when an almost 30-year-old decides to go back to school?

She grabs her mommy for moral support and they spend a day in St. Louis buying textbooks, getting a parking permit and student ID, drive to seedy (read: scary) parts of the city for the obligatory nursing school fingerprinting and background checks and have some fabulous Mexican food for lunch.

This is what ONE SEMESTER worth of nursing textbooks looks like:

I still have three books yet to get, but I'm getting them from one of my favorite places: Chegg.com.

Let's hear it for renting by the semester! With free return shipping!

The best part of renting textbooks from Chegg is that they let you know how many trees you are saving by not contributing to the reproduction of paper products - and you get to pick where your trees are planted. They ask:

Where would you like your tree planted?

Then you get a map of the world with a couple choices that include a brief history lesson.

Guatemala - For years Guatemala has been a victim of deforestation and slash-and-burn farming. Jaguars, ocelots, scarlet macaws, and howler monkeys make their home in the country's tropical forests, which serve as a refuge for rare and endangered species. The main threats to Guatemala's tropical forests are improper agricultural practices, natural disasters and large-scale development projects.

Lake Tahoe - In 2007 the Angora Fires destroyed more than 250 structures and burned approximately 2,700 acres of National Forest System land around Lake Tahoe. The American ReLeaf project is working to remedy this damage.

Cameroon - Over 50% of Cameroonians depend on the forest directly or indirectly for their livelihoods. The forest is home to endemic species, many of which are endangered, including the Mount Cameroon francolin, the African forest elephant, and the timber species. In recent years, however, there has been significant habitat loss and fragmentation as a result of subsistence and commercial farming.

Without even thinking, I immediately chose Guatemala. After spending a month in Panama back during my SBU days, I've been in love with Central America and it's people ever since. I didn't really read through the other choices...until a light went off in my head. Um, yeah. M's uncle and his family lives in Cameroon as career missionaries. I know that. I just prayed for them today. And yet I completely blanked out when I saw that as a choice for the trees. Oops. Well, there are still two more semesters of books I'll need. They'll totally get their trees.

After submitting my choice, I got this message from Chegg:

Congratulations! Your trees will be planted in Guatemala through the American Forests Global ReLeaf program.

At least there is some good (that, and I saved $141.38 by renting) that will come from me having to haul 300 lbs of textbooks around on my back.

An Actual Post about Baseball

2010-05-05T08:12:00.001-07:00

In honor of our AWESOME win against West Plains last night (10-0 if anyone was keeping score - and WP is way bigger than us so that's a double bonus), I decided it was time to actually honor the title of this blog and post some baseball things.

As a Baseball Wife, I guess I need to be more aware of our team once in awhile.

My bad.

I wasn't actually at the game - someone has to stay home and push-mow our entire acre of land so we don't look like "those" kind of neighbors - but M was pretty excited for the whole five seconds I saw him last night. He rushed home after the game to get laundry detergent (don't ask) and then he ran back to the school to do stats, and apparently, laundry.

I'm not sure what time he got home. I like to be asleep sometime before midnight.

Anyway, I hope you like these pictures. They were taken by Scott Kimrey, a dad of one of the baseball players. I wish I could take credit for these great shots, but Scott is the professional. He's been taking pictures all season long, so this is a collection of shots from the past couple months.

M explaining how the game is played. Sometimes I think they forget.

Tyler Hunt (great pitcher, awesome catcher!) warming up on the mound. Lord knows what they're laughing about. And Lord knows I probably don't want to know.

M explaining the game again. He likes to talk with his hands.

Before the game huddle.

I love this shot! They look so dedicated. And dirty.

Tyler Lavely. Great pitcher, great kid.

Tyler Hunt trying not to get tagged out at first. He makes it look so easy.

JV team - great picture!

They like to congregate on the mound and watch the pitcher warm up. It's apparently fun to make Grant nervous right in the middle of a game.

M has district seed meetings today, a game tonight, sports banquet tomorrow and another game on Friday. One more home game next week, and then districts start.

And people wonder why I never see my husband.

If you want to see the website M put together for the team, click HERE. He even included a handy little stats key for people like me who have no clue what things like "OBP" and "SLG" means.

Tempeh Attempt

2010-05-04T11:46:00.001-07:00

As a fairly new vegetarian (going on three months!), I’ve been trying to scout out different forms of protein that I can add to my diet.

A girl can only take so many black beans and edemame.

Let me rephrase that.

A girl cannot live on sunchips and cinnamon rolls alone.

When I was in Springfield this past weekend, I made my way over to my favorite store in the world, Mama Jean’s. Mama Jean’s is an all-natural market that is just, well, amazing. I knew they would have plenty of options that I could try. Some of my all-time favorites have come from that store - bulk bins of whole wheat couscous, jars of maple almond butter, and my standby toast of choice - Ezekiel Cinnamon Raisin Bread.

In my search for cruelty-free protein, I’d read about this stuff called tempeh and seiten, and while it sounded pretty funky, I figured I would give it a try. One unexpected bonus – tempeh is really cheap! Like $2 a pack. That makes me happy.

So what exactly is tempeh? Basically, it’s a high-protein food of Indonesian origin made from partially cooked, fermented soybeans.

Mmmmm. Moldy soybeans. Doesn’t that sound delicious??

Nutritionally, it's pretty great. For 1/3 of the package, it has only 160 calories, 7g fat, ZERO cholesterol (take that, red meat!) 9g carbohydrates, 3g fiber and 16g protein.

I decided to try the West Soy original tempeh. It came in a little refrigerated pack, much like a package of hot dogs.

When you take it out of the pack, however, it does not resemble hot dogs in the least. More like bumpy cheese.

According to a recipe I decided to try, you're supposed to cut or slice the tempeh like you would chicken, then steam it for 10 minutes in a pot of boiling water on the stove. Tempeh is pretty bland and boring on it's own - marinating is a MUST. For my first tempeh attempt, I decided on one of my favorite food groups: Chinese.

What can be better than green peppers, onions and pineapple in a soy sauce? I figured that if the tempeh was absolutely disgusting, the pineapple would make up for it.

Here's my recipe (you all know I don't measure when I cook, so have fun trying to recreate this.):

Pineapple Stir-Fry Tempeh

1 pkg tempeh, cubed (or sliced) and steamed

2 small onions

2 green peppers

1 can pineapple chunks

cornstarch

water

Marinade:

Minced garlic

Ground ginger

1/2 C. tamari (soy sauce) - actually could use less. It's pretty salty.

5-6 T. pure maple syrup (Not sugary pancake syrup. This stuff is the Real Deal.)

Some water (about 1/4 C.)

A little bit of olive oil

Black pepper

Whisk all the marinade ingredients together in a dish. Place the sliced and steamed tempeh in the marinade, cover and refrigerate overnight.

Spray a skillet or saucepan (you'll need something with sides) with cooking spray. Take tempeh out of the marinade and put the pieces in the skillet over high heat, but reserve the liquid. Brown the tempeh on each side for a couple minutes, then take it out of the skillet and set aside. Pour the marinade into the skillet and add green peppers and onions. Let simmer for a little bit until veggies soften. Add pineapple, including juice. Bring to a boil. Mix a little cornstarch with water, then drizzle in the pan. Stir until it thickens to however thick you like it.

Put the tempeh in a bowl and spoon some of the veggie/pineapple mixture over it.

It's not a very good picture, but the tempeh and veggies were really good! It was a little chewy like chicken, and the marinade was good. I will definitely use less soy sauce next time...it was really, really salty. In my opinion, I would have liked it to have more of a pineapple flavor. I think next time I'll use pineapple juice and less soy sauce in the marinade.

Next up: attempting to use seitan.

Wow. Spellcheck just tried to tell me "seitan" should be spelled "satan." I bet M would wholeheartedly agree.

He wasn't at home last night to witness my dinner creation. There was a baseball game a million miles away that I just didn't have the energy to drive to after work.

I'm such a good, dedicated coach's wife.

Plus, I'm in the middle of making some freaking AWESOME Mother's Day gifts that are a little time-consuming, but you'll have to wait until after Sunday to see what it is so I don't ruin the surprise. M saw them on the counter this morning and said, "That's really, really good!!" That made me happy.

I spent almost all night working on the project since SOME people's mothers live two states away and the post office doesn't really like it when you stand at their counter and say things like, "What?? Why can't you get it there in 15 minutes?? I don't understand!!" Goal: get it mailed by tomorrow with gigantic signs that have warnings like Don't Open Until Sunday or Else You Will Never See Your Grandpuppies Again!! (Actually, the grandpuppy excuse would probably backfire. See my previous post for more clarification. My in-laws bought us that chair. Oops.)

On top of being a good, dedicated coach's wife, I'm an excellent daughter-in-law. (sarcasmscarcasmsarcasm)

Question of the Day: What's your favorite meat-free recipe?

Storm Damage

2010-05-01T15:23:00.001-07:00

I tried to be nice last night.

And you know what happens when you try to be nice? It comes back and bites you in the pants.

Very, very much in the pants.

It all started when I was getting ready to leave for our away baseball game yesterday afternoon. I was positive that as soon as I got there the game would be cancelled from the massive storms that were headed our way - we were even under a tornado watch with the possibility of heavy rains, flooding and nickle-sized hail.

You know. A beautiful night for a baseball game.

So I thought I would be nice.

Instead of leaving the dogs outside in their run under the carport, I thought it would be better if they stayed inside just in case the lightening and tornadoes got really bad. Last time storms came through we had limbs down in the yard - I don't want the dogs to get hurt by storm damage.

"Seriously," I thought to myself, "how much damage can three couch-potato dogs do?"

Turns out, a lot.

I'm almost hesitant to post the pictures. Actually, I'm very hesitant to post the pictures. The pictures are very much like I think the end of the world will look like as depicted in the Book of Revelation.

It's that awful.

It's one of those things where you walk in the door and look around. You don't see anything amiss so you let your guard down and think "Alright! Nothing happened. No accidents. No blood and fur. Everything was fine."

Then you go into the next room.

And see this.

See the chair in the middle of the room? That's our very, very heavy chair-and-a-half recliner.

That is not it's normal parking spot. Not even close.

Man, they had a good time, didn't they? A little puppy party when I was only gone for three hours.

I just stood there. I was proud of myself - I didn't scream, I didn't freak. I just stood there and thought, "Ok. Ok. Oooookkkkkkaaaayyyy. Well, what now?"

My other thought was that I needed to clean it up before Matt got home or else there'd be four of us sleeping in the kennel for the next week.

First order of business: move the chair back to it's rightful position. I figured they ripped apart a blanket, tossing fluff every which way and having a grand old time.

Yeah. It wasn't a blanket. Not even close. Guess what I saw when I walked around to start pushing the chair back to the other side of the room?

Yeah.

Once again, I just stood there. I couldn't speak. I couldn't think. My mother's voice popped into my head. I could seriously hear her saying something along the lines of "Oh Addie. Can't you have anything nice? You should have thought about this when you wanted three dogs."

I think I started giggling out of pure hysterics.

What else are you going to do? Matt and I came to a conclusion a long time ago that has done wonders for our relationship. If something like this happens, why freak? Why scream? Why get all worked up over something that already happened? Matt always says you can't go back in time to change anything, so you just make the best of it and move forward. It's all about how you choose to react.

You can either make a bad situation worse with a bad, mad, freaked-out attitude or make that bad situation better by realizing that hey - it's just a chair and not the end of the world and you're still alive and you have a roof over your head - so you grab a broom and do a quick reupholster job with your favorite Christmas blanket.

See? It looks better already. And my sister saved the day by emailing me about 10000 links to websites that sell recliner slipcovers. We'll be back to our non-trashy, non-ripped apart furniture selves in no time.

And of course, the dogs acted like nothing was wrong. They plum wore themselves out and have spent most of today sleeping.

Don't let their innocent sleepy-faces fool you. They're just dreaming about their next round of destruction.

And just in case you're wondering, we did have some pretty bad storms last night. We are very glad the dogs weren't out in it, despite the damage on the inside of the house. Ironic, I know. Bet we're one of the only lucky families in that situation.

Yay us.

On another note, Knuke tried to get into Matt's duffel bag earlier this morning. Matt just keeps it on the floor in the dining room - it has all of his baseball stuff in it that he takes to school and to games. I told Knuke to get out of there, and Matt told me something interesting. Apparently, last week Knukie figured out how to actually unzip the bag with his teeth. Matt caught him unzipping it and taking out a baseball that was at the bottom.

He just wanted a smelly old baseball to gnaw on.

So they're now in their crates for awhile today (with toys and treats...it's not a complete time-out) because every mom needs a break sometimes.

Today I love: A spouse that is super laid-back and crates with dog-proof latches

Fear and Rambling

2010-04-28T13:20:00.001-07:00

The following is a rant that I emailed to my sister the other day. I wrote it on Monday and I've had it sitting in my Google Documents folder ever since, internally struggling with what to do with it. Delete it? Post it? I told Erin I didn't think I was going to post it because it's pretty private, but I got to thinking: what if someone else is struggling the way I am? Maybe these words will help them know they're not alone.

How has this never come across my path?

Maybe it has and I just don't remember.

But it has flat-out jumped up and slapped me in the face today and I'm still stinging from the backhand.

Have you ever read Hebrews 10:26-27?

I highly recommend that you do.

I will be the first person to admit that I'm not a biblical scholar like my sister or her husband Cole. So not wanting to misuse this passage or take it out of context, I dug up some biblical commentary regarding the verses. The overwhelming agreement is that these verses are talking about people who hear about God's gift - his Son dying on the cross for our sins - yet knowingly turning their backs and reject salvation. They are people who profess to be believers, yet live how they want and do what they want with no concern for the consequences.

This particular verse refers to the act of apostatizing - basically abandoning your faith and all you once believed. Turning your back on the God you know is real and true. You KNOW it, yet you reject it.

I will tell you right now. I don't apostatize.

I fully embrace my Savior. I love Him. I worship Him. I fall on my face in front of Him.

I do, however, stupidly continue to do things I know are wrong. Not in light and grace and truth.

Ugh.

How this particular passage of scripture spoke to me (in a non-apostasy and non-biblical scholarly way) is that I do things in my personal life that I know are a slap in the face to God. I KNOW they are a slap in the face, and yet I KNOWINGLY keep doing that junk over and over.

I KNOW I shouldn't watch half of the movies or TV shows I watch. Who needs that raunchy “humor” in their head?? Does it glorify God? Heck no!!

I KNOW I shouldn't hold grudges and wish bad things on people who I think have wronged me. One of my friends posted an awesome quote on Facebook by Mother Theresa that really convicted me on that particular level:

People are often unreasonable, illogical and self-centered; forgive them anyway.

If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives; be kind anyway.

Give the world the best you have, and it may never be enough; give the world the best you've got anyway.

You see, in the final analysis, it is between you and your God; it was never between you and them anyway.

-Mother Teresa's Anyway Poem

Wow. It's between me and God. That's all.

I could say, "Well, so-and-so does this, so that's why I did it, too."

No excuses. It's between me and God.

So, simply put, I KNOW that as a Christian, I shouldn't invite certain things into my life. YET I KEEP STINKING DOING IT!! I’M KNOWINGLY SINNING AND STILL DO IT!!!

My own personal version of apostasy.

Not, by all definitions abandoning my faith and turning my back on God - but isn't that sort of what I'm doing on some level every time I chose wrong over right?

I want to change. Lord, I am willing.

Those were Monday's thoughts.

Today, Kay Arthur's post on Crosswalk.com helped answer my frustrations. How did she know exactly what I am going through?? Her post is titled "Do You Long for the Goodness of Life?"

Yowza.

Some excerpts that grabbed me:

Why have people in general become so narrow-mindedly "me" centered? Why are we so broadly tolerant that whatever others think, we accept it as right? Why is our society made up of so many frustrated, unrestrained individualists who put self before others? (Sidebar from Addie: ME!! I DO THIS!! I'M SO VERY GUILTY OF THIS!!)

Why, Beloved?

Have you considered it might be because we have lost our sense of the fear of God?

Romans 3:11-18 describes what happens when people lose their reverential trust and awesome respect for God. It describes what happens when a generation is raised apart from a biblical knowledge of God. That passage is the self-portrait of a person who does not acknowledge the God of the Bible. It is the epitome of someone who walks according to his or her own understanding - dictated by his or her own desires, making decisions according to personal criteria that ignores God and His Word.

You and I desperately need to know what the Lord abhors and what the Lord approves of - and the consequences of not living accordingly.

We need to do everything we can, dear one, to instill - first in our own lives, in the lives of our children, our families, our churches, and then in our society - a biblical knowledge of God.

"The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge" (Proverbs 1:7).

There is no better time than now to discipline ourselves anew for the purpose of godliness; to set schedules, to order our days, to stop and think about our future and where we want to be.

Wow. Amazing truth in those words.

So pretty much, I need to stop and think before I act.

Why does this all of a sudden feel like a kindergarten lesson? Maybe because I've been acting like a child and God needed to get my attention.

Truth. Grace. Faith.

Renewing yourself daily in Christ.

Actually acting like His Beloved.

And believing it.

Today I love: Do-overs due to grace and forgiveness.

Texas Sistertrip

2010-04-20T09:02:00.001-07:00

I had a little emergency on my way to my gate at the airport on Thursday.

The security line took so long to get through that I almost didn't have time to stop at Starbucks.

Almost.

Never come between a girl and her skinny iced vanilla latte.

Legal stimulants in hand, I boarded my flight to Houston in a caffeine-induced haze. It was wonderful.

Especially since the flight was packed full and I was elbow-to-elbow with a guy who was watching Last Comic Standing DVD's on his laptop. I was just praying my iPhone battery would last long enough for me to get through my latest Kindle download.

Sidebar: Want to feel incredibly fortunate to be a woman who happened to be born in America? Read the true story "I am Nujood, Age 10 and Divorced." It's about a little girl in Yemen who was forced into marriage at the age of 9 and the abuse she suffered at the hands of her husband - who was three times older than she was. And it only happened a couple years ago - this isn't some historical novel about the middle ages. This is present-day nightmares that kids over in the middle east face all the time. It really puts things into perspective.

So on that happy note, I finished the book just as we landed. I desperately needed a pick-me-up.

I got one. A big one.

Never, ever underestimate the power of a sister reunion at baggage claim. It's super fun to have everyone stop and look at you like you're insane. Maybe we shouldn't have jumped up and down - giggling and shrieking and laughing and crying - so much. Oops.

So first things first in Texas? Going to Chinatown, of course. Forget all of the cowboys and BBQ and cattle - we wanted noodles and steamed vegetables and tea.

Ohmygosh. The tea. I cannot begin to explain how fantastic this tea is. We asked the waitress what it was called, but she didn't know the English words to explain it. So what did she do? She was kind enough to take pity on us silly white people and write the name down for us - in Chinese.

After lunch, we found the closest Chinese supermarket to search for the tea.

We asked the first guy we could find about the writing. He was all excited and pointed to the napkin and asked, "You do?" No. I no do. I have no idea how to write in the Chinese language. He wasn't so excited after that, but still was very, very helpful in searching the gazillion types of tea in the market. Tea to the Chinese is like Starbucks for me and my sister. I couldn't believe all the different choices.

We finally settled on one: Jasmine Green Tea. The last two characters of the vertical writing matched the two characters on the napkin, and that was close enough for us.

Oh my gosh. If anything can break my coffee addiction, this stuff is it.

One problem.

The instructions of tea-to-water ratios are in Chinese! I'm seeing a quick Rosetta Stone lesson in my near future.

We also went to this awesome place for dessert called the Juice Box.

It made me want to officially live in Chinatown.

All the desserts are made with fresh - FRESH - fruits. Case upon case of fruit greeted us when we walked in. All we had to do was point to the fruits we wanted (I have no clue how to say "lots and lots of watermelon, please" in Chinese) and they loaded us up. It's pretty much just shaved ice topped with fruit, a scoop of strawberry ice cream and drizzled in sweetened condensed milk. Sounds weird, I know. But it's just flat-out DELICIOUS! And for only $5! We chose cantaloupe, pineapple, strawberries, and of course, watermelon.

See how happy we are?

And that was Thursday.

Friday consisted of a wonderful place called the Chocolate Bar (click on the link then click on "desserts" and check out the cakes!!) in the Rice Village and Mexican food with Cole's parents that evening. Can you see a theme? I think all we did was eat. The Mexican restaurant did have a wonderful offering of veggie fajitas that included grilled zucchini and squash, so I didn't do toooo bad. And it was SO GOOD.

Saturday was awesome. We got up around 7am to go down the street to watch the cyclists participating in the MS 150. Obviously, since my sister has MS, we wanted to be out there in our MS shirts showing our support for these incredible people. They were riding from downtown Houston all the way to Austin - that's some hilly country. It was a little rainy, so they were really happy that people came out to cheer them on. WE were the ones that were happy that they were doing this for MS!!

It really made me want to attempt to get back in shape and do the ride sometime.

Goal #1: work off all the Mexican food and Chinese food and desserts. Dang Texas.

After watching the cyclists, we spent the day as any good sisters would do: at Katy Mills Mall. I felt my superpowers returning immediately.

Oh, and Erin and Cole took me to this fabulous place called Central Market. It seriously kicks Whole Food's butt. I have never seen so many organic, vegetarian, vegan products in one place in my life. And counter after counter of fresh everything. Want sushi for dinner? They have a counter for that. Want fresh, organic soups and a salad bar? They have a counter for that. Want fresh artisan breads and pastas? There's a counter for that. In the massive produce department you can get fresh-squeezed juice - no sugar, no additives...just pure juice. It was INSANE. Their weekly specials this week include Hawaiian Mahi Mahi - flown direct to Texas from the islands. INSANE!!

As we walked out (me with - what else? - fresh watermelon) I immediately texted Matt and told him we are moving to Texas. Particularly to Westheimer Road where Central Market resides. He has no choice.

"Why?" he asked. "Because Texas is awesome," I said. I don't think he's buying it. But still. A girl can dream about living by such awesomeness, right?

The rest of the weekend went by so fast. I absolutely love spending time with my sister (and Cole!) - she is so fun and amazing and crazy. We always try to pack so much into our visits - shopping, movies, worship at their amazing church (Bear Creek Baptist, if anyone is in the Katy, TX area), more Chinese food, naps, more shopping. I can't even remember everything we did.

What I can remember is the dang security at the airport last night. Ugh. I've never had this happen before, so I guess it was just my time.

I honestly thought that my box of loose Chinese tea in my carry-on would set off the security alarms. The tea, in it's natural goodness, looks a little organic, if you know what I mean. But no. The tea made it through just perfectly. Me, on the other hand - not so much. My cargo pants kept setting off the alarms - it was the little buckles at the bottom that were the problem. So what happened? I had to go to the pat-down area - which of course is in the middle of the whole security checkpoint surrounded by clear walls - and wait for a female officer to come over and search me.

Not my idea of a good time.

And those people have absolutely no sense of humor. I told the woman that I was going to burn the pants and never wear them again for all the trouble they cause me, and she didn't even blink.

So I just stood there while everyone in the whole airport watched as she patted me down and used that little alarm wand thing. Then, without even a word of "you're good to go, sweetie! Sorry for the trouble!" she just turned and walked away. Um, hello? What do I do now? Did I pass inspection? Was she going to get the FBI? I didn't know what to do, so I just kept standing there until another security guy who was there at the time saw me and said I was good to go. I at least got a smile from him.

Oh well. They're just doing their job - and I would much rather go through a pat-down than have someone shady slip through unaware. It made me feel safe.

Violated, but safe.

So now I'm home, feeling the deep need for a vacation from my vacation. Anyone want to unpack my bags and do my laundry?

Today I love: Getting to see my husband after being gone for five days!! And the puppies. I missed my puppies. :)

Veggie Anniversary

2010-04-09T08:26:00.001-07:00

Today marks the two month anniversary of my switch to vegetarianism. And guess what? I’m still alive! I still have all my brain functions!

And people still think I’m completely, irreversibly nuts.

The other night at a baseball game, I was talking to M and some parents after the Varsity game. They asked if I was staying for the JV game, but I said no, that I was hungry and needed to go home and have dinner. Here’s how the rest of the conversation went:

Parent: If you’re hungry, go help yourself to anything from the concession stand!

Me: (Parent’s name here), what in the world would I eat from there??

Parent: Oh yeah. Starts laughing. We need veggie hot dogs. (She knows I don’t eat meat, and we like to tease each other. But still, it’s a great idea in my opinion!)

Other Parents Standing by Us: What? Huh? Seriously?

My Dearest Husband: Oh yeah. She’s vegetarian. (Said in a loving tone, of course.)

Ahhh, life in a farming town. Obviously, I like to stir things up a bit. That conversation opened up a “you really don’t eat meat?” and “why don’t you eat meat?” Q&A session.

My real reason? I’m in love with all things animal and do not want to contribute to their slaughter, no matter how weird people think that is. I love love love animals. Plus, you all know me – I take things way too personal. So how did you really think I would turn out after reading books like Charlotte’s Web as a kid? Personify an animal and I’m a goner.

Wilbur burst into tears. "I don’t want to die," he moaned. "I want to stay alive, right here in my comfortable manure pile with all my friends. I want to breathe the beautiful air and lie in the beautiful sun. ~ E. B. White

My I’m-not-insane-please-still-like-me reason? My genetically crappy disposition towards high cholesterol. People tend to not think vegetarianism is so weird when I give them that line.

And you know what? If you eat meat, that's fine. I'm married to a guy who would rather eat a hunk of beef or pork than anything that grows from the ground (unless it's covered in cheese) so I understand. That’s your absolute right and choice. I don’t want to be one of those fanatics that think I have to go out and convert the entire world to vegetarianism. (I have my hands full enough doing that in a more Christian realm, thanks to the Great Commission.)

Let’s be honest. Biblically, I don’t think eating meat is a sin – after the flood, God told Noah that it was finally ok to eat meat. Before that though, meat was a huge no-no. I don’t really want to start a “God gave us dominion over the animals” debate, because my idea of the definition of “dominion” does not involve asserting our ability to go out and kill any animal we want just because we can.

However, I believe we are called to be stewards of the earth, and as we all know, it is getting more and more vital to create a more sustainable environment for future generations. This might be idealistic, but think about it: all the crops grown to feed cows, pig and chickens could go to people who actually need the sustenance. Animals by nature are grazers - they don't need corn to survive. And if animals are meant for humans to eat, why did God give them the ability to feel pain and bleed like we do? He could have created them without nerve receptors or the ability to know fear. Compassion is as part of human nature as anything else. "I think there's something odd about eating another living anything." ~ Shania Twain

Personally, I just see the results of vegetarianism in my own life and know I am doing the right thing for me. I fully know that might not be the right thing for anyone else. But I do know that I don’t feel so weary and tired all the time, my skin is clearer, my hair is shiny and my nails are growing long and strong. I don’t feel so puffy around my middle – I just feel clean and healthy. I didn’t start out by thinking this would be a weight-loss thing, but I’m dropping pounds at a rate of 1-2 lbs per week. And best of all, I feel like I’m making a small difference in the world.

I’ve stuck with it long enough that the people who really know me have finally stopped asking me “do you still not eat meat?” (Even the guy who runs the cafeteria at the hospital knows. The other day when I walked in he was really excited to tell me they were serving veggie burgers in Line 2. And they were delicious!)

Being a vegetarian works for me. I like it.

Questions? Comments? This is your chance to tell me that 1) you understand completely or 2) I’m completely nuts and think I need to go eat a cheeseburger.

Free will. Free world. Isn’t it great we can all have our own thoughts and opinions?

Speaking of thoughts and opinions, I finally ditched my dark hair. It’s springtime!! Here’s the new ‘do:

This time next week I'll be in Texas visiting my sister!! Woot woot! She's already found some veggie-friendly places we're going to try. I'm uber-excited.

Today I love: Vegetable stir-fry and my Pure Cider Neutrogena lip gloss.

Eight Weeks

2010-03-29T13:55:00.001-07:00

It's officially official. I will be a nursing student in eight (8!!!!) weeks.

On Saturday, Matt and I spent the day in St. Louis at St. Louis University for my nursing school orientation. I was a little nervous - what should I wear? Do I get dressed up and then everyone will know I'm an almost 30-year-old changing careers because I've obviously forgotten what tennis shoes are? Or do I wear jeans and a sweatshirt and try to blend in with the youngin's? I went for the combo - jeans, a nice shirt and my favorite brown corduroy jacket.

Business on the top, party on the bottom. It was truly the mullet of clothing choices.

Once we got to SLU and found the nursing school, I was more convinced than ever that this career change is the right decision. Everyone we met was so incredibly nice and helpful, and we got to talk with current students (who had "AO survivor" on their name badges) and faculty members. While us students were shuffled off to separate meeting rooms, Matt had to stay with the other spouses and parents for their own orientation and you-better-support-your-loved-one-cause-their-gonna-be-stressed meeting. He was thrilled about that, I'm sure.

Something one of the faculty said really hit close to home and completely nailed home the reason why I'm doing this. She said that in all of her years as a nurse, she's never once been bored with her career. She's never once thought of changing careers.

I lay awake at night and dream of a career that holds my interest. I get so bored sometimes - I need to be challenged on a daily basis in order to stay actively engaged in my career. Sitting at a desk planning parades and community events does not challenge me. Planning parades and community events, while it can be fun and has it's place in public relations, does not exactly take a rocket scientist to pull off. I love learning. I love stretching myself to my limits to see how far I can go.

I refuse to settle for the bare minimum of my brain capacity.

My momma raised me better than that.

(Speaking of brain capacity...at orientation, I received a packet of medical terminology abbreviations and drug calculations I have to learn before class begins. Talk about challenging yourself! My need for all things chocolate just rose about 100 degrees.)

It was really surprising the number of students who came in with their parents. It made me feel really, really old. Luckily, I made a couple of contacts with some fellow married classmates, and it's nice to know we'll all be in the same boat together.

The unemployed-and-relying-on-our-spouses-for-support boat. It's awesome.

SLU has such a beautiful campus. Here's a picture of the School of Nursing:

SLU Arches:

Actual Arch:

St. Louis University Hospital, as seen from a moving vehicle:

It's kinda tricky taking pictures in the city. On one hand, you want to be able to capture the artistic beauty of all of the old, gorgeous buildings.

On the other hand, you don't want to unintentionally document a drug deal going down on the corner and find yourself on the other end of a hit list.

After our venture into the city, we made our way to Washington to meet up with my cousins for dinner and to see my new digs. (Do people still use that term?) They are graciously letting me live with them while I'm in school, and it's a pretty easy drive from their house to campus. Matt was told that he is welcome to visit anytime, and of course we'll be using his Six Flags season passes as our excuse to meet halfway on sunny, warm weekends.

Come on. A girl has to have some way to relieve stress, right? Bring it, Batman Ride!

Most weekends I'll be heading back home to Licking to do things like mow the yard and wash dishes. Matt said he'd take care of all of that, but seriously. His summer baseball schedule makes my summer school schedule look like a walk in the park.

Now I'm off to talk with student loan people. My day just got super exciting.

Today I love: my Caribou Coffee mug and the highly caffeinated contents inside of it.

Backtrack

2010-03-27T04:38:00.001-07:00

Three things really quickly before I head out the door to run before this rain hits:

1. Baseball Update

So...disregard my last post.

We actually ended up with a win on Tuesday, due to a minor technicality.

Apparently, the opposing team played an ineligible player, causing them to have to forfeit the win.

I don't know all the details - it could be as simple as one of the kids not having the grades to make him eligible to play, or someone might have been benched due to an in-school suspension - or it could have been the beardy kid who smacked the grand-slam and looked like he was 37.

Told you we needed his birth certificate.

In any case, it's now a W in the books. We'll take it.

2. Reigning Queen of Everything Clean

The hospital where I work held a hand-hygiene contest yesterday, and one person from each department was randomly selected to represent their area by demonstrating proper hand-hygiene techniques. I just knew the lucky person from Public Relations would be me.

Yep. Fantastic.

I got called down to where the contest was being held, and I was nervous. I didn't want anyone to know how gross my hands actually are.

So first things first: take off the wedding ring. Lord knows what all's hiding in the crevices of that thing.

We had to put this stuff on our hands - and, in 15 seconds - show how to properly sanitize your hands. The goo they gave us shows up under this really cool blacklight thing...and the not-so-cool part is when the blacklight reacts with the goo and shows where you missed sanitizing.

The one thought going through my mind was something my director always tells us: "Nailbeds! Don't forget to scrub your nailbeds!" Well, I dug in and got those nailbeds.

And I won! And I'm nonclinical!

Not bragging or anything.

I was so excited, along with the rest of my department. The winning prize? A catered lunch from any restaurant of our choice. Very cool.

3. SLU Visit Day

In a few hours, Matt and I will be on the road to St. Louis for SLU's Nursing School Visit Day. We'll get to tour the campus, meet faculty, staff and fellow students, and generally get the rest of the information I'll need to make a smooth transition back into the life of a college student.

People, I'm almost 30. I'm not really prepared to resort back to wearing ratty jeans and pajama pants to class, but let me tell you how excited I am to trade my three-inch heels and dress pants for jeans (my respectable dress jeans from New York and Co) and flats. Possibly even tennis shoes. Maybe a hoodie.

I think that I'll even get to buy my scrubs today (they have to have the SLU School of Nursing logo on them), lab coat and stethoscope today. Right now I feel like I'm playing dress-up for Halloween since it hasn't really hit me yet that I'm going to officially be an RN in about 13 months.

Anyone want to volunteer to help me practice giving shots?

I got to job shadow in our Rad/Onc department earlier this week and loved every minute of it. Working with cancer patients would be hard, but the department is so cheerful and focused on positive, healing actions. On Thursday this next week I'm shadowing in ICU, which might be a little more stressful. We'll see how that goes.

Off to run! Then off to St. Louis!

The Good and Not-So-Good

2010-03-24T17:44:00.001-07:00

Why is it, when a perfectly good batter hits a homerun straight over the left field fence, the rest of the team feels the need to give him brain damage the second he touches home plate?

I will never understand the concept of beaning the hitter as a form of congratulations.

Boys.

And see the nice red dirt? It's new. And it goes particularly well with our white baseball uniforms the day after a monsoon.

All the mothers agree. Clorox stock just jumped.

Our first game went really well, and at the same time, not so good. We played terrific - and that's coming from The Coach himself. He was happy with their overall performance. But as everyone involved in sports knows, just one or two "oops" can break a game really quickly. Our "oops" was getting ourselves into a mess with bases loaded - and some huge bearded high school kid (I personally wanted to see a birth certificate) knocked one straight over the center field fence.

Isn't it curious that grand-slams aren't near as exciting when it's not one of your team's kids that hit it?

Final score: 8-7.

Here comes the Coach's Wife Justification Speech: It was against Dixon. If anyone remembers, we had a perfect season in the fall until our very, very last game. Against - you guessed it - Dixon. The score then wasn't nearly as close as it was last night though. So see? We're better than a couple months ago! Now we just have to win the rest of our games to match our fall stats.

We seriously have a good, good group of kids. They are serious and hilarious, hard-working and crazy all at the same time.

It's gonna be a good year.

Snaps go out to my in-laws who drove seven hours up from Alabama on Saturday, suffered through the disappointment of a rain-out on Monday night and decided to stay for last night's game despite the fact they both had to be at work this morning. I know it meant a lot to Matt to have them there, and I think they feel it was completely worth it to stay...even though they got home at 3:30 am and got about three hours of sleep. That's dedication.

Up next...we're at Waynesville tomorrow night, barring the thunderstorms that are supposed to be headed our way.

It could be worse. We've had snow on Easter before! Welcome to Springtime in Missouri.

Time to break out the Snuggie.

Sunny Day Rainout

2010-03-22T14:53:00.001-07:00

It's kinda hard to have a baseball game when we just had two days of straight rain and gloom.

Today is bright, beautiful and warm, but the ground looks like this:

And this:

Not the ideal conditions for the first game of the season. Coach is not really thrilled about this situation.

Me neither.

I miss my baseball family. Plus, Matt's parents drove more than seven hours to come for the game, and now it's not gonna happen.

Luckily, we have a shot at another home game tomorrow night, so they might extend their trip. Thank goodness their son likes to schedule four games in the very first week of the season...plenty of opportunities to see the 'cats play. He's not an overachiever or anything.

They (i.e. my in-laws) get pretty dramatic about stuff like this. If they don't see a game there is a chance they might implode.

Either that, or we'll all implode from the cream cheese brownies that were brought by the house the other night. If you would like to experience a sugar coma, please come by my house and help us finish off the pan.

Good news: these are completely vegetarian. Therefore I am completely guilt-free. Kind of.

Hopefully I'll have baseball updates tomorrow. And pictures of my man in his baseball pants.

That's really what I'm excited to see.

Streaking...More Than Just a Dare.

2010-03-18T07:31:00.001-07:00

I've had some people recently ask me why I've given up on meat and animal products. Besides my absolute love of anything animal and not wanting to contribute to their unnecessary and cruel slaughter, try having a veterinarian - a farm animal vet (cows, sheep, pigs, goats) - as a microbiology instructor and see if you want to put animal flesh in your mouth ever again. Man, she can tell some stories of the nasty that lives in those things.

She's also good at telling you about the nasty you can get from those animals - no matter how clean or well cooked you think your food is. I could go on (mmmm...prions. Tiny bits of loose proteins that can cause neurological damage - think BSE (Mad Cow) and CWD (chronic wasting disease) found in deer (take that, hunters) - and the vaccine has only been tested in mice. According to the CDC, the occurrence of bovine spongiform encephalopathy (BSE) and its transmission to humans indicate that animal prion diseases can pose a significant public health risk. Recent reports of secondary person-to-person spread further illustrate the potential public health impacts of BSE. I think I'll take my chances on carrots.) but I'll move onto something even more disturbing.

And kinda fun. We got to play with toxic substances last night.

Classmate: "So, is that the culture taken from that dog's ear from last time?" (See? Vet as an instructor. She brings all sorts of fun stuff in.)

The culture from the dog really, really stunk. Bad. It was not a pleasant experience.

Dr. Moore: "No, It's just some E.coli."

Oh. Just E.coli. Well then. That's good.

Anyone need a good excuse for missing work the next couple days?

And that is how we began our microbiology lab last night.

We were doing streak plates, where you take an inoculating loop, dip it in the culture (in this case, a scary-looking vial of E.coli), then streak the loop over 1/4 of your petri dish of agar in order to grow colonies.

Here's Mary demonstrating step #1:

Then you sterilize the loop, bring it to the first 1/4, turn the dish 90 degrees and streak the loop from section 1 to section 2.

Here's me demonstrating step #2

1/2 of your dish is now covered. Repeat until the whole dish is streaked, with the goal of getting fewer and fewer organisms per streak in order to break out the colonies.

Here is Jennifer completing step #3, and Mary did the final quadrant.

And I just had to get a picture of myself holding the E.coli vial just to freak out my family.

I really need a vacation.

Disclaimer: This was for picture purposes only. I would not be that mentally incapacitated to actually think of licking the vial.

There's a picture of the four quadrant technique here, and really pretty pictures of all sorts of different streaked plates here.

And this is how we study bacteria and diseases.

If you think this is boring, well, deal with it. I think it's fascinating, so therefore you'll have to suffer through some science-y posts the day after my class.

Vegginess

2010-03-16T14:15:00.001-07:00

Pet Tip Tuesday: Don't eat your animal friends.

I've come to the conclusion that while maintaining a vegetarian lifestyle is pretty simple (simple is a relative term when you live in the middle of cow country and everyone you know is an avid carnivore and avid hunter), taking the step to eat vegan isn't so easy.

Why?

Because I love cheese so much. So much.

If anyone can give me a solution to my cheeseaholicness, let me know.

However, despite my love of nonvegan things, I experimented with a vegan recipe last night and it turned out really, really well. Surprisingly well. Who knew you wouldn't miss the cheese in a lasagna? And not just any lasagna, but the awesome Spinach and Mushroom Lasagna, courtesy of the Fat Free Vegan blog. (It's a really pretty blog and has lots of yummy recipes. Check it out.)

I didn't take any pictures of it because I was a little apprehensive about how it would turn out (tofu, spinach, mushrooms and spaghetti sauce is about all it has in it), but now I wish I would have. It was that good. I'm looking forward to leftovers tonight. And no cheese! And so flavorful!

I bet you're wondering if Matt liked it. Well, Matt has a huge aversion to anything pasta/red sauce/vegetables, so no. He was perfectly happy to fire up the grill for some brats. Which he ate with cheese puffs and kool-aid...the man is seriously more than happy to eat like a five-year-old every day of the week. And he never gains a pound, the nerd.

How we make our meals work: he (tries to, with limited snarky comments) ignore the fact that I bring tofu into the house, and I (try to) ignore Daisy the Dead Cow on the grill outside.

Our marriage ROCKS.

This arrangement works out well for me, because not only did I make that fantastic lasagna, but I made homemade veggie burgers on Sunday while Matt grilled hamburgers for himself.

Oh. My. Gosh.

These things are so, so incredibly good. I wish I had made two batches to freeze. (The veggie burgers. Not the cow.)

The veggie burgers are not vegan on account of the two eggs (ewww), but there's no where in heaven to find egg replacer (Eggbeaters doesn't count - it has real eggs in it) in Licking. In our little corner of Cow Country, who woulda thought??

Here's the recipe. It's a little time consuming, but oh so worth it.

Veggie Burgers

yield: 8 patties

Ingredients:

1/2 Cup Minced Onion
1/2 Cup Minced Green or Red Pepper
1/2 Cup Minced Carrot
1/2 Cup Minced Celery
1 Can Cannelloni Beans, drained
2 Eggs (ewwww)
3/4 Cup Plain Bread Crumbs
Any seasonings you like. I used salt, pepper, garlic powder, basil and dried dill. (LOVE dill!!) **I don't measure seasonings. I just throw them in there and hope for the best.**

Directions:

Mince all the veggies in your food processor. I did the veggies one at a time since my processor is small, but if you have a big one you might be able to fit them all in there. Just put the carrots on the bottom since they are harder.

Aren't the carrots pretty?

In a large nonstick skillet, cook the minced veggies over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until veggies are soft and moisture has evaporated. Set aside to cool slightly.

Mash beans (the food processor will speed this up). Place in a medium bowl and add eggs and seasonings.

Mix well. Add bread crumbs and veggie mixture; mix well again.

Shape into 8 equal patties (your hands will get really, really messy here). Refrigerate until chilled, at least 20 minutes, or put in freezer for 10 minutes.

Heat some olive oil or use nonstick spray in a skillet. Add a couple patties, sprinkle with a little more garlic powder and dill, and cook over medium heat until browned on both sides and heated through. Repeat until all patties are cooked.

You can serve them right away or put them in the fridge or freezer until you're ready to eat. I had one on a bun yesterday for lunch and then a nekkid one (what I like to call "bunless") with a salad for lunch today.

These patties are amazingly good!!

Next recipes I want to try:

Blueberry Oat Bars and Sweet Potato Falafel.

With recipes like this, I might not miss cheese so much after all.

March Addiction

2010-03-15T17:23:00.001-07:00

Most of you, at least by now, know that I am mildly obsessed with dogs. And after three trips to Alaska for a mission trip, a job interview (during college, so don't freak out...we're not moving) and to run my first marathon (I wanted to run my first 26.2 in my favorite place in the world), I'm mildly obsessed with our 49th state. So it should come as no surprise that this time of year I'm glued to my computer, keeping track of my favorite mushers as they compete in the world-famous Iditarod.

This is my March addiction. Some people have the NCAA brackets to keep them occupied. My husband has the start of high school baseball season.

I have dogs and sleds and half-frozen people running across the mountains and rivers of Alaska.

When Matt and I were in Anchorage for my marathon, we had the opportunity to travel to Big Lake to the Happy Trails Kennels - the home of Iditarod Champion Martin Buser...who is also the current record-holder for the fastest Iditarod finish time ever. He was awesome. Very down-to-earth, very personable. My favorite thing? All of his humanitarian awards, given to the mushers who take the best care of their dogs out on the trail. I was in awe to be in the presence of someone who's actually completed - and has won multiple times - the Iditarod. I almost couldn't speak.

Here's Martin explaining the workings of the sled and what to expect out on the trail.

Martin's world-record trophy...try fitting that one on your mantle.

My absolute favorite picture of me and Matt. It wasn't cold...it just looks that way. :)

Anyway, back to the race.

I also like Lance Mackey - who's currently in the lead, and if he wins this year it will be a record-setting four years in a row for him - and he's also a man who is a throat cancer survivor. My favorite thing about Lance is that he is quick to give credit first to his dogs before he talks about himself.

And new this year: Newton Marshall, a musher from where else? Jamaica. I love the pictures of him at the ceremonial start in Anchorage and all of the posters that say, "Mush, Mon!" And there really is a Jamaican Dogsled Team. How. Cool.

But one of my favorite favorite mushers is DeeDee Jonrowe. Not only is this chick out there racing against big, burly men (and usually beats most of them), she's a breast cancer survivor who harnesses her dogs in bright pink. According to her bio on her website, DeeDee is the foremost female dog musher competing in the world today. She has both the fastest time of any woman in the history of the Iditarod and 14 top ten finishes in her career. Her second place finish in 1998 was the fifth fastest Iditarod time ever recorded at that point. She's also competed in the Ironman Triathlon (2.4-mile ocean swim, a 112-mile bike race and a 26.2-mile run) and about a gazillion other sled dog races. Rock on, woman!

Check out her photos!

As I was going through my list of Iditarod sites to check on the current standings, I came across an article about DeeDee that made me want to cry.

Seriously. This lady is amazing.

Courtesy of Loren Liden at Iditablog.com:

As DeeDee Jonrowe approaches Unalakleet, I imagine she is getting anxious. Not just to make it to the next checkpoint, but to make it to what she called her “favorite checkpoint this year.” Jonrowe has led a fundraising campaign to raise support so that Logan Erickson, a 9-year-old, autistic boy in Unalakleet, could have a service dog.

When Jonrowe visited Unalakleet earlier this year, Erickson was fascinated by her dog, Miyagi, calling for him after Jonrowe had left. Logan didn’t speak before this. Obviously Logan benefited significantly from the presence of a dog, and DeeDee, like most mushers, understands the benefits that dogs can have on humans. Specifically, service dogs for autistic children provide emotional support, as well a significant safety net.

For those of you who don’t know, autism manifests itself in children through lack of social skills, as well as a tendency to wander off and difficulty sleeping. 4 Paws for Ability, the organization through which Logan will receive his dog, is the first and continues to be the largest organization that places service dogs with autistic children. They have an intimate understanding of autism, and have developed training for their dogs to best suit the children they will be serving. For example, these service dogs are not only trained how to aid a child in behavioral and social contexts, but are also trained in search and rescue so that when their child wanders off they can track him/her down. Pretty impressive if you ask me!

This dog will clearly make a significant impact on the life of Logan, and on the rest of his family (4 older brothers, and parents Jeff and Donna) . As such, several other mushers jumped on board when they heard what DeeDee was up to. Martin Buser, Aliy Zirkle, Lance Mackey, Mitch Seavey and William “Middie” Johnson have all gotten involved by either donating items or experiences toward the auction or soliciting pledges for their race.

When Logan receives his dog here shortly, DeeDee and fellow mushers will have run a successful race – one that will forever change the life of a little boy. That, in my opinion, is worth running a thousand miles across Alaska for.

-Loren Liden for Iditablog.com

That is the kind of story that makes you have faith in humanity.

Here's the link to read about Logan: 4 Paws for Logan. What a cute little boy. And I just cry all over when I think about his first word ever was - at the age of nine years old - the name of one of DeeDee's dogs. Isn't that the greatest thing?

Good luck, Logan! I hope you get your dog.

And good luck DeeDee...we're cheering you on to Nome! Almost there!

For more Iditarod coverage, click HERE. But only if you want to get really, really hooked on Alaska and some amazing people and dogs. Trust me on this. It's addicting.

As I mentioned on Twitter (@runsforcupcakes) the other day, I know the mushers like Matt knows MLB players...and we still make our marriage work.

Mush!

Bouncy Dog

2010-03-11T17:54:00.000-08:00

You cannot watch this video until you promise me three things:

1. You will ignore the pile of (clean) laundry on the coffee table.

2. You will ignore the fact that "The Office" is (still) on our TV.

3. You will not turn us in for animal cruelty, because this is really, really funny.

This is what we call "Bouncy Dog."

UConn is obviously less than amused...and yet she does nothing about it. That would take too much energy.

It makes me giggle.

Especially when her arm (dogs have arms, right? Leg? Left superior extremity?) starts moving in circles.

Especially when Matt pats her on the nose and then just walks away without looking back.

She looks so confused. And content. And fat.

And before my mother grounds me from ten towns away for the embarrassing state of my living room, here's proof I know how to put my clothes away. And vacuum.

And rearrange the furniture. I do that a lot.

I haven't sat on our couch in years. There's always giant dogs taking up all the room, and it just takes too much energy to move them. Plus, when I try to boss them around, they just roll their eyes, show me their crotches and laugh in my face.

31 Reasons

2010-03-09T06:35:00.001-08:00

This little guy is 31 years old today!

Happy birthday to my dear, sweet husband!

In honor of his 31st birthday, I'd like to share 31 reasons why I love him so much.

Hold onto your hats. This is awesome.

1. When he's in town, he'll stop by my work just to say hi even if he has some place he has to be.

2. He has patience with me in the grocery store. I know his comments of "just pick a can of soup already!" and "that apple looks just like the apple you put down!" are completely made out of love and kindness.

3. He gives me the "I love you" sign when he pulls out of the driveway.

4. He can make me laugh at the most inopportune times. While I'm drinking a soda. While I'm on the phone at work. At church. At my grandmother's funeral.

5. His dedication to his career is amazing. No shortcuts. He fights for what he wants and believes in what he does. He is an excellent provider for our family.

6. He hugs me every morning when I leave for work and hugs me every evening when I get home.

7. He loves real Christmas trees. Without him, we would not have one. I detest putting up the sappy, sticky things and he is more than happy to do it himself.

8. He does all our laundry and will surprise me by filling my car up with gas.

9. When he volunteers to go out and pick up dinner, he doesn't have to ask me what I want. He just knows.

10. He can recite every word in the movies "The Sandlot," "Ocean's Eleven" and all of the "Pirates of the Caribbean" movies. Well, I kind of love that. But not really.

11. He puts up with my book obsession since it allows him to watch ESPN uninterrupted.

12. He makes an effort to even the scales - if I go to a basketball game with him, he'll turn around and do something I want to do the next time.

13. He's secretly a dog-lover too. I smile when I see him on the recliner with one of the pups curled up in his lap.

14. He totally gets my jokes, which is saying a lot.

15. He loves my hair no matter what color or style it happens to be at any given time.

16. He'll text "I love you so much" to me at random times during the day. That makes me smile.

17. He'll text "That's what she said" to me at random times during the day. That makes me laugh (see #4).

18. When he runs down the street to get himself a Coke Zero from the gas station, he almost always brings back a Diet A&W Root Beer for me.

19. Our fights aren't ever really fights - they are silly arguments that last about .083 seconds and always end in laughter. (It's really difficult to be mad when you're laughing!)

20. He sticks up for me. Not always to the person's face who upset me, but he'll tell me how much I mean to him and remind me not to listen to idiotic people. It makes me feel protected and important.

21. He knows what it means when I'm grumpy.

22. He is the most encouraging person in my life. When he knew I wasn't happy with where my career was going, he whole-heartedly encouraged me to go back to school to be a nurse because he knows how much I want to help people and how unhappy I am sitting behind a desk all day.

23. He will go toe-to-toe with an umpire to fight against a bad call for his baseball team. He won't back down and he knows how hard he can push without getting kicked out. He's been told to sit down and stay in the dugout, but that's only because he was right and the umpire knew it.

24. He slows down if there is a dog, cat, squirrel or bird in the road because he knows that it means a lot to me if we don't roadkill an animal. At least he does when I'm in the truck.

25. He loves to travel as much as I do. We're always looking for fun places to go and explore.

26. Despite being a picky eater, he'll try new things I cook for dinner. For instance, tofu. Yes, he tried it. And yes, he ended up ordering pizza. But at least he tried.

27. He kisses me on the forehead.

28. He winks at me, even when people are around.

29. If I'm cold, he'll get up in the middle of the night and turn off the fan, even if he's sweating.

30. He is in love with Jesus. He might not show it in a "hands-in-the-air-roll-in-the-aisles" sort of way, but he does show it in how he lives out every moment of his life. He's a great example to me, his co-workers and every single kid that he coaches.

31. I will always, always, until the day I die, love how he looks in his baseball uniform.

Happy birthday Matt!

Wrapped Up in Me

2010-03-08T12:29:00.001-08:00

I’ve been reading a blog lately about a couple who are currently in Kenya, touring villages that have been built by Compassion International.

I used to sponsor two Compassion kids - one from Guatemala and one from Nicaragua.

I love Central American kids. I want one. They're so stinkin' adorable.

Proof: Me and Romel, one of my favorite Panamanian kiddos. His mom made that hammock with her bare hands.

Anyway, we would trade letters back and forth almost every month. They would draw me pictures of their houses and families. I would send stickers and bookmarks and tell them about my dogs.

My Guatemalan kid grew up and out of the sponsorship program, and my kid in Nicaragua – devastatingly – was never located after Hurricane Felix (a category 5) wiped out entire villages and families. I got a letter from Compassion about how my sponsorship was terminated due to the fact they couldn’t find Esequiel or anyone in his family. I cried. Ask Matt.

But I think at the time, we were secretly ok with not having any more sponsorships. We were trying to save money, pay off student loans, blah, blah, blah…

I’m so heartily sick to death of every decision and thought revolving around money right now. I know it has to be done, but I’m still sick of it.

So of course, as I was reading the Reverb blog this weekend, I was slapped in the face by this:

Two things he [the trip leader] said hit me pretty hard: “Even though we have different skin color and we come from a different country, we are related to each other. We both have the same Father. Our Father in heaven calls us all His children and that makes us brothers and sisters. Compassion International is trying to help release the poor from poverty, but it’s also helping to release us from our wealth.” As I stood there in front of around 300 of the poorest people I’ve ever seen, I have never felt so rich in all my life. I thought about the $120 I had in my pocket as I stood there and how it could be used to purchase a home here in Kenya…and maybe a goat.

I know I’m starting nursing school in two months. I know I’ll have to quit my job to go to school, and we’ll be down to just my husband’s teacher’s salary for one entire year. I know that everyone is thinking that I need to slow down and stop and think about our finances.

But like I said, I’m sick of doing that.

Do I really believe that God is God? Am I really, honestly trusting Him to take care of us this next year, or are we budgeting ourselves to death and trying to do His job for us instead?

I’m not saying it’s ok to go crazy and buy Jimmy Choos or purchase a new car or get all new living room furniture right now. I’m not that insane. I don’t think God would consider that a good use of our brains or bank accounts.

But seriously. $38 a month? Is that really going to break the bank? Is sponsoring a child for $38 a month going to bring dishonor to God, or will it glorify Him through the nations?

I cannot say it any better than how Ryan on the Reverb blog wrapped it up:

It was about an opportunity to begin a powerful relationship with someone halfway across the world. Compassion International goes to great lengths at helping sponsors meet their sponsored children in person. There are stories of children being picked up and driven 8 hours just to meet their sponsor because it’s that important.

(Side note: I can completely vouch for this. When I was in Panama, we met entire families who walked two whole days through rivers, forests and jungles just to get to meet the Americans who came to build the school.)

I'm the white girl in the back with the handkerchief on her head, in case you couldn't tell.

Sponsorship isn’t about the money, it’s about letting someone know that they have value and that you are pulling for them.

It’s not about $38 a month. It’s about the letters you write and the dreams you instill in a child. I watched as several people began a deep relationship with kids that will last a long, long time today. I heard a voice in my head multiple times. It was saying, “It’s really hard to ask people to give until it hurts when you are not giving until it hurts.” It was a call to respond.

I absolutely cannot get this out of my head. I'm sleepless. Restless. Feeling a calling to do more.

I’ve had people remind me that it was my decision to go back to school (I know). That I should have calculated all the risks (I did) and thought about the repercussions (I did). The finances. The sacrifices. I still don’t regret it. Matt and I are very, very excited about this. So yes, I shouldn’t stress about finances. I know I’ve brought this on myself. I just feel a calling to do more, despite the fact that people might think I’m crazy because of school starting so soon.

But I feel like I’m focusing too much on myself. I feel like I get so wrapped up in me – in the petty little nonsenses that have absolutely no value - that I miss everything else that is so much more important in the world.

What do I think should be of no value? I feel like I care too much about my weight. My diet. My hair color. My shoes. You think that the little kid in Nairobi who had rice three days ago as their only meal cares about how much this selfish American weighs? And I bet there’s a kid out there who would love the barely-worn pair of sandals that I just tossed out to Goodwill last month. I’m so materialistic sometimes, and it makes me sick.

I need to get out of my Addie-bubble and start focusing on more important things.

On the more eternal things.

The One Without the Patience

2010-03-06T09:17:00.001-08:00

A successful coach needs a patient wife, loyal dog, and great quarterback - and not necessarily in that order. -- Bud Grant

In our case, that would be a great pitcher instead of quarterback. And I'm working on the patient part.

Sort of.

I've always said that in the instance of the Proverbs 31 standard, patience has never been one of my virtues. (I can seriously hear my mother shouting "AMEN!" from 100 miles away.)

Last night I decided to try my hand at homemade pizza dough. I discovered a great vegan website absolutely full of delicious-looking recipes, and found one for a quick-and-easy pizza dough. I've never used active yeast before, so I was a little nervous. But 15 minutes later, the yummy smell of dough filled the house and I couldn't wait for Matt to get home from practice to have dinner.

I think it's a rule that on Friday nights you have to have pizza.

Anyway, I was expecting Matt home at 7:00. Well, that came and went. But you know how many times I went to the window to see if his truck was coming up the road?

Let's just say it was a lot. I'm really pathetic sometimes.

At 7:30 I decided to eat without him because the pizza was getting cold. And of course, the minute I took a bite he walked in the door. Turns out it was a good thing I decided not to wait - he was so exhausted from his week (practice, going to our district basketball games, unloading a truckload of dirt for the baseball field) that he went straight to sleep and didn't want anything to eat.

You'd think that after more than six years of being married to a coach, I wouldn't stand by the window watching for him to come home. He usually gets home at 7:00, but that is not a solid, defined time. It is absolutely subject to change every single day. And he's told me time and time again that it's perfectly ok to eat dinner before he gets home - he knows I don't like to eat after 7pm. But it just feels weird, like I'm not taking care of him or something. To which he tells me he doesn't need anyone to take care of him - that if dinner is cold he'll just warm it up. Or if he doesn't like what I make, he'll make something on his own. That he's a big boy.

My husband is totally liberated.

And I imagine that most women would be happy to not have a husband who is totally needy and dependant on them. And for the most part, I am. But I still like to make sure he eats a decent dinner (chicken nuggets and fries are not a decent meal) and feels ok and had a good day.

My number one struggle is - still, after six years - suppressing the urge to pick up the phone and turn into that annoying, nagging wife with the "Are you on your way home? Do you know what time you'll get home? You're seriously still at the field?!?!?" calls. I refuse to be that sort of wife. As the above quote states, a good coach has to have a patient, understanding wife - one that is perfectly ok with his nuts-o schedule and has a life of her own to fill the time. The last thing a good coach needs is the pressure of knowing his wife is waiting at home, foot tapping, wondering where in the world he's been if he's five minutes past 7:00 - and the minute he walks in the door asking things like, "What took so long? Do you still like me? Are you mad at me?"

Do you really think he wants to come home to that?

He has enough things to worry about. The poor guy was sound asleep by 9:30 last night and then had to get up early this morning to go spread the new dirt on the field...and after that is practice - until 3:00 this afternoon. Kinda makes me glad I don't play organized sports. I'm still in my pajamas.

Today I'm keeping myself occupied by cleaning the house and rearranging the living room. Matt loves it when I rearrange the furniture every other day, especially when he comes home and it's dark and he trips over the sofa that used to be on the other side of the room.

The things I do to make his life easier. He's so lucky.

And about the patience thing? I'm working on it. Despite 100000 trips to the window between 7:00 and 7:30 last night, I'm working on it.

The One with the Kale

2010-03-04T19:22:00.003-08:00

This is what I get for figuring out how to add multiple vegetarian and eat-clean blogs to my Google Reader. It seems like everyone is posting lately about their new favorite snack, and it intrigued me.

I mean, seriously. Who in their right mind would ever stand in front of the leafy greens in the produce section and think, "Oh man, I just have to take those home and see what they can do in the oven!"

But based on all the reviews, I decided to give it a try.

It, being Kale Chips. Yes. I voluntarily roasted a member of the cabbage family.

Matt wasn't home. So don't tell him. He already thinks I'm loopy.

Kale Chips

What you need:

1 bunch of kale

1 T olive oil

1 T apple cider vinegar or rice vinegar

sea salt

Preheat the oven to 400. Cut the kale leaves off the stems and tear them into bite-size pieces. Throw the stems away...they're not so good cooked.

Put all the leaves into a gallon zip-lock bag with the oil and vinegar. Toss it around to coat all the leaves.

Spread the oil-and-vinegar leaves in a single layer on a baking sheet. It's important they are in a single layer, or else they won't crisp. Sprinkle them with sea salt.

Bake for 10-11 minutes, then take out of the oven and let sit for one minute.

I was skeptical to the point of being very happy to see that each kale bunch was only .99 at the store in case this recipe would turn out to be a total waste. However, after making these weird looking things, I think I've found a new favorite snack. They have that great salt-and-vinegar taste and crunch exactly like potato chips...yet I'm getting a full serving of veggies in, too. Bonus.

Knuke apparently thought so too. I didn't get them in an air-tight container fast enough, and the silly dog licked up 1/4 of the tray before I could run into the kitchen and tackle him.

Tackling is just about the only way I can control that big oaf anymore. He's taller than me. Which, if you ask my husband, isn't really saying a lot.

PS: For those of you who receive these blog updates via email, I apologize if the pictures aren't lined up right. I'm trying to fix that. Also, I have a new customized blog layout if you want to check it out online!

The One that will Bore You to Tears

2010-03-03T12:18:00.001-08:00

82 days until nursing school starts.

I would freak out about that, but I'm on so much cold medicine that the most my brain can process are things like, "Hey! That shirt is red!" and "Hey! My pen is purple!"

That's about it today, folks.

Which is rather frightening because I have a microbiology test tonight over microbe nutrition and growth, along with bacterial disinfection and sterilization. All this cold will let me remember is that my instructor mentioned in our last class that Lysol can have a toxic effect on cats.

I highly doubt that little tidbit of information will be on the test.

My instructor also mentioned that you have to look carefully at labels of cleaners. Just because something is a disinfectant (i.e. Lysol) doesn't mean it will disinfect your counter tops if there is a layer of grime it has to work through. That's what's known as a two-step process - you have to 1) clean the surface and then 2) disinfect it.

I about have the patience of a one-step woman. If it doesn't take care of the bacteria the first time, well, that's the bacteria's problem.

That sounded gross, didn't it? For anyone who cares to care, I do clean my house.

Dogs licking things off the kitchen floor totally counts as cleaning.

I love Clorox Wipes. Just so you know.

To bore you even further, let's talk about bleach. Bleach is a great disinfectant, but a bad cleanser. And I was curious. What makes bleach, bleach?

It has to do with electricity, believe it or not. When you buy a gallon of bleach at the grocery store, what you are buying is chemical sodium hypochlorite mixed with water in a 5.25-percent solution. You're basically buying salt water that has been changed slightly by electricity.

According to howstuffworks.com, there has been a lot of discussion about the safety of chlorine in drinking water. It's not really clear how safe or unsafe chlorine is, but two things stand out:

It's a whole lot safer to drink chlorinated water than water contaminated with disease-causing bacteria. Millions of people have died from water-borne diseases, and these diseases are largely eliminated in modern water systems through the use of chlorine.
If you are worried about the chlorine in your water, all you have to do is let the water stand for a day or two in a loosely covered container in your fridge and the chlorine is eliminated. How cool is that?

You can read more here.

Ok, I'm done with the science lesson. But you have to admit that the lysol/cat thing is pretty interesting.

Probably why some lysol-loving people I know (you know who you are!) wake up every morning to find cat yuck on the hallway carpet.

Yesterday was Day 2 of baseball practice, but I didn't see Matt until right about 10:00 last night. After practice, he went with the basketball team to Cabool to watch them play in the first round of Districts.

I kind of remember him calling and telling me he would be home late. I also kind of remember doing my best to intelligently contribute to the conversation with things like, "Ummmmm, yeah. Soooooo, heeyyy (Yes. Like The Fonz). How are yoooouuuu?"

He called me back later to let me know the team won. Then, when he got home, I brilliantly asked him if they won or lost.

Seriously. Cold medicine has a concussion effect on me.

And I love it when he looks at me like I'm a fruitcake.

Despite not feeling well at all this week, Tina and I have completed Day 3 of our three mile mornings.

The alarm clock going off at 4:45 am totally drills the point across that our "lets-take-a-break-from-exercising-over-the-holidays" hiatus is definitely over. And yes, I realize that our "holiday break" lasted about three months. And it felt good. And we didn't care. Sort of.

Except now I feel really guilty and yucky. I think I still have a couple Christmas cookies hanging on to my backside that refuse to let go.

I've set a goal for myself: lose 10 lbs by time I go visit my sister in Houston in 43 days. That's roughly six weeks...completely doable.

My Polish brain will not sabotage me into having no control over the ingestion of all things sugar and white flour. Dang those Poles. Why couldn't they have based their national food traditions on sprouts and tofu? Not everything has to be perogies and babka. And kolaches. And halushki. And paska.

God bless my carbohydrate-laden heritage.

The One with the Day Before Baseball Starts

2010-02-28T16:21:00.001-08:00

Nothing makes you feel special like the sight of spinning, twirling, flipped-out dogs who are obviously very excited to see you pull in the driveway after being gone all weekend.

You know you're really special when they get so excited they lift their leg and pee on the lawn mower.

It's nice to have a nice welcome home.

We just got back from a great relaxing weekend at the lake, just in time for the sun to go down. And why is that important?

Matt wanted to get home before dark so he could go work on the baseball field.

Baseball starts tomorrow.

It's like watching a little kid who is waiting for Santa to come on Christmas Eve. I don't think he'll sleep at all tonight.

In fact, before we left town on Friday, he was out spreading bags of fertilizer on the field..the same bags of fertilizer that have been sitting in our walk-in kitchen pantry since before Christmas. The same bags of fertilizer that are the exact same size and shape as the bags of dog food...also sitting in our walk-in kitchen pantry. You could see how that could make me nervous.

I was so sad to see them go. I'll miss the smell of nitrates in the morning.

After he left for the field, I made plans to take my luggage upstairs to unpack so my darling can start the laundry later tonight. As I made my way up, I started noticing a strange odor the closer I got to the top of the landing. Rubber? Leather? What was that smell?

Oh. My. Gosh.

Shoes. Shoes sitting on top of the vent in the middle of the hallway floor. Shoes that have been turned upside down with the tongues and soles pulled out. Shoes that have been sitting there since before we pulled out of the driveway to leave for the lake. Shoes that have been sitting there all weekend long. That was the smell.

Don't get me wrong. I totally understand the need to wash your shoes after fertilizing an entire baseball field. A muddy field. A soupy, mucky, we've-had-too-much-snow-and-now-it's-melted-and-sogged-the-field field. A field that when you step on it, you immediately sink ankles-deep into sludge and have to come home and wash your brand-new Under Armour baseball shoes so the cakey, red-clay mud doesn't dry them into what looks like a kindergarten pottery project.

I also understand the need to have them dry by time practice starts tomorrow, and I know that throwing them in the dryer is not a good option for a fantastic pair of brand-new shoes (dryers break down the rubber and can cause the soles to split, in case you were curious).

But now the entire upstairs smells like a Foot Locker.

Fantastic.

But, believe it or not, I had more important things to worry about.

I am proud to announce that the three Christmas wreaths hanging from our three second-story windows are officially down, which concludes the taking down of all of our Christmas decorations.

I knew I would get to it after the snow and ice finally melted off the roof. I knew I would get to it after my neighbors reminded me for the 1000th time that they were still up there.

I knew I would get to it sometime before March.

And I did.