Politest? Most polite?

Dear punk kid at Ivar's Salmon House,

You are without a doubt, the sweetest, politest punk I've ever met. Thanks for the free hot chocolate and your smiles every time I stop by. You always know what I'm going to order and when a hot chocolate will make my day. Don't stop being goofy and making people laugh. I have a high school crush on you and hope some sweet punk girl does too!

Thanks,

Wenikio :)

This post is for KT

Have you had enough of the goring yet? Yeah, me too. So here we go with a new post (but only because KT asked nicely).

I went home this past week to see Nicholas graduate high school. It was a fun trip and he looks really good. He's got a cool group of friends :) And then Katie drove all the way to Valpo from Chicago to see me! Hooray!!

My life in Chicago seems like a lifetime ago, but every time I go back I find myself just as in love with the city as before. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, I guess. Wonder if I'll ever move back. While I miss my friends so much, I know things change. But I still love even just the city and think I would enjoy moving back and building off of what would be left. The problem is that I'd be living on the street, of course, because the cost of living is so ridiculously high and I don't think I could bring myself to take a nursing position there. So there is that. But maybe I'll just save up vacation time and spend a summer there couch crashing...

The Chuckster back home was his usual noisy self. His poor little legs are so twisted that he's turning into a house dog, but he doesn't seem to mind. We are talking about bringing him here to Seattle in the fall for Gazza. I bet they'd love each other, but we'll see.

Rudy needs a complementary spazz. He's such a goofy dog. Sometimes I think he's the most normal dog we've ever had because he acts like a dog, but other times he proves himself a total canine moron. Case in point: he tried to roll in me when I plopped down on the floor. Uh, dog? You roll in goose poop and smelly things, not people. Unless he was trying to tell me something? And then he went totally submissive on top of me. Belly up is submissive, yes, but I think you have to be on the ground, not on the person you're submitting to. But what do I know? I'm just a human.

Also? I'm getting my second Scrabulous wind on Facebook. Bring it on!

It ain't right!

Remember that email, "these are gonna hurt?" No? Some highlights:











(I have no idea who to credit for these pictures, but I will say they're not mine!)

So then my sister sent me a link to this picture. "Ow" just doesn't do it justice. How else could you describe what just happened?

A sucker punch to the soul

Work in the PICU is hard. I mean, it's really growing on me (and I have a ways to grow), but there are a few things I'm struggling with. Most notably, those would be abuse/neglect and death. Kids are a tough transition in many ways, but easier in others. One of the things looming large in my mind on our orientation checklist is "end of life care." I mostly tolerate it with adults, but I don't know how well I'll tolerate it with the kiddos.

I acknowledged going into this job that I also don't know how well I'll handle abuse cases. It's one thing to abuse your body, and I've more or less come to terms with abuse among adults, but I don't know where to start with kids. Within the past few months, I had to deal with one particular case in the role of primary nurse. It was awful. There are just no words. Normally I would try to understand the situation, but to put yourself in the frame of mind where that sort of thing is even conceivable is just... no.

I can't laugh anymore about that joke, "I'm not having kids because I believe in child abuse." Even in my lighter moments I see that broken little body. As for pediatric death? It's gut wrenching.

However, despite the depressing nature of this post, I'm happy where I am. Gazza is consistently at two hours alone now and halfway off her Prozac, so I think she's happy where she is too. She might be happier if she could just catch one of those elusive squirrels, but you can't have it all now, can you?

And even though it doesn't always seem right, I do believe that God has a plan for us all.

Fine weather for shorts

This is one of my favorite websites. There's enough fodder on there for many blog posts, but I'll just give a hearty amen to this post about shorts. Why? Because they're talking about me!

Whatever happened to just plain old 'Lavender Blue, dilly dilly,' dilly dilly... silly?

Brownie points to those who can name the above song!



Like I said before, we're just labelin' fools. These are just IV labels! Except for the one that says "pre-bladder." Although technically...

I don't, like, get it!

While I've heard it my entire life, I don't get the phrase, "it scared the living daylights out of me" (and all the other, um, variations of "daylights").

You have daylights inside? Not to be confused with daylight? And really, how did that get in there anyway? Moreover, how is it alive? I know we argue about whether light is a wave or particle (or both!), but I think we can all agree that it's not alive. I don't suppose it matters, seeing as how it got scared out of you anyway...

KnoWhutImean, Vern?

Having an emergency?

We've got you covered!



My hospital uses 5S, "a philosophy and a way of organizing and managing the workspace and work flow with the intent to improve efficiency by eliminating waste, improving flow and reducing process unreasonableness." Now before you groan too much, I have to admit that it's pretty cool. For the most part, everything is clearly labeled and in its spot. From sticky labels on the desks ("tape," "stapler," etc) to tape on the floor ("do not put anything here," "trash," "dohicky cart"), there's a place and label for nearly everything. Navigating and getting what you need on the unit is much easier this way!

There's one thing, though, that makes me smile me up every time I see it. In the clean utility room, there are these arrow stickers on the floor that are arranged so that the wheels of an IV stand fit over it (like those toys kids play with where the block shape has to go into the corresponding hole). They totally remind me of the DDR scrolling arrows! Wee!

Quack quack says the duck!

The other day when Gazza was doing her two whole hours (almost) of alone time, I had to keep myself occupied so I wouldn't freak out as well during the wait. At my mom's urging, not that I need it anymore, I walked down to Ivar's for some fish'n'chips. As soon as I sat down, a very curious duck waddled over, let out one quack, and watched me eating very intently. Now I know you're not supposed to feed the wildlife (yadda, yadda, yadda), but she asked nicely and I had some fries to spare. Turns out she catches a fry mid-air better than Gazza can catch a ball. Who knew ducks were so talented?

Anyway, there we sat, the duck and I, munching our fish'n'chips. She was cute. I hadn't been so near a duck since Easter tried to eat our toes when we were younger. Ducks are actually pretty cool! Apparently I'm not the only one who thinks so!



Hey, did you know that the generic word "duck" is female and "drake" is male? Wikipedia doesn't lie! Also, I seem to recall something about ducks being really dirty. Was that just parental propaganda (sorry Mom and Dad) to keep kids from trying to handle the ducks, or is there something to that?

Tennis balls from heaven

Internet, this is Doug. Doug, this is, well, these are my bloggies. Heh. Hi bloggies! Doug is very cool and I like him :) So does the beast.



We walked around Greenlake the other night and kept watch for the Greenlake ghoulie. He didn't make an appearance (my argyle socks scared him away), but it was a nice evening anyway. It has been hot out, so it was nice to walk without melting.

Poor Gazza has become a sloth. She will shortly be a nearly hairless sloth. Cross your fingers I don't butcher the haircut too badly... OH! And she stayed home alone for almost two hours today!! Will the miracles never cease?? But while we're making headway on that, she's beginning to get defensive of me with other dogs. I am not a fan of this. The vet thinks she'll grow out of it and I'm making her submit when it happens, but I still don't like it.

This morning we went to Magnuson so that she could swim and burn off some energy without spontaneously combusting. When we pulled into the lot, I started cracking up. Apparently a local tennis club did a big dump- huge garbage bags full of lightly used tennis balls! The entire park was covered with neon yellow balls, and the dogs were in heaven. Some of their heads almost exploded with the stress of picking which ball to play with. It was fun :)