Well it just wouldn't be life as we know it without Blake seeing a specialist. I've written before about Blake's fever syndrome. For those who don't know Blake was diagnosed with PFAPA about 2 years ago. PFAPA is a fever syndrome that kids can develop around the age of five. They outgrow it by the age of ten. Blake's started exactly a week after he turned five. He spiked a high fever (probably about 103) with no other symptoms. With it being winter time and cold and flu season we didn't think too much of it and it went away after a couple of days with ibuprofen. A couple weeks later, it was back. Same thing happened. A couple weeks later, the same thing. Growing tired of our new friend Mr. Fever I decided to take Blake to the doctor. We had new insurance so I had to pick a new pediatrician and I chose one that was a younger, newer guy, thinking maybe he would have some hip, fresh ideas as to what the hell was going on. Blake was poked and poked some more by the new doctor with McDreamy hair but nothing could be found. In the mean time the fevers continued. Most of the time they would also bring very enlarged glands in his neck. So large he would have to turn his head to the side to swallow. Every 2nd or 3rd Friday we could expect another fever and another few days of preschool would be missed. Spring came and there was talk of MRI's and leukemia.
We were getting seriously worried. The fevers would totally knock Blake out but he would not have any other symptoms. Then one day a neighbor who did transcription for a children's hospital IM'd me and said, "Hey, I just did this transcription and these people are going through what you guys are going through with Blake. Their daughter has PFAPA." I checked it out and it was Blake to a T! Fevers like clockwork with no other symptoms. I called the doctor's office and spoke to the nurse. She had never heard of it before but would let the doctor know. He sent us to a rheumatologist in Iowa City at the Children's Hospital where Blake was positively diagnosed with PFAPA and was prescribed generic Tagamet (yes, the heart burn medication). He has been fever free since Thanksgiving weekend, 2010.
At his last appointment a few months ago he was taken off of his meds and we were told unless he has another fever between now and his next appointment in October, he will be considered "case closed". At least at that clinic. What the rheumatologist also found is that Blake is very hyper mobile or double jointed. This is not necessarily a problem but it could be and we were referred to a genetics specialist, which is where we went today.
Blake has now been diagnosed with Ehlers Danlos Syndrome--Hypermobility. There are nine different things they check your mobility on. If you are hyper mobile in these areas, you get one point with a possible score of nine (obviously). Blake scored an 8. The concern with Ehlers Danlos is that Blake can be prone to joints popping out of place easily, joint pains, etc. It causes your ligaments and muscles to stretch out and sometimes, with constant stretching they may not "go back" into place.
There are different types of Ehlers Danlos Syndrome and his hyper mobility is the least serious, thank goodness. This will just mean that Blake will need to be extra careful in life. No prolonged periods of hanging from the monkey bars, no wrestling, those kinds of things. He will also need to have an ECHO of his heart taken every year until he reaches adulthood and stops growing. This is because his aorta can also become enlarged, which is obviously not good. Should that happen, however, there are medicines he can take to help treat it and it's also better to know that kind of thing, rather than leave it untreated.
Another thing we found out is that Blake is flat footed, something we've known since he started walking but never really had checked out. This along with the EDS can cause a lot of joint pain for him in his knees, ankles, legs, hips. No flip flops or sandals for Blakey, just good tennis shoes with great arch support.
I am relieved to know finally that he does have this, as his rheumatologist talked about it with us for a while but we couldn't get in to the specialist to get it checked out. I'm sad that this may stop him in the future from doing something he really wants to do and I'm worried that it may cause him problems as he gets older. I'll feel better once we start getting the ECHO's of his heart and can see how that progresses.
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
Saturday, February 4, 2012
Who needs Colon Blow when you have a surgeon named Fierce?
So I had a few of my insides removed recently. It wasn't my choice, they practically begged to be removed. Like a group of bad teenagers misbehaving at the movie theatre they had to be ejected. A few weeks ago, January 12th, a Thursday, to be exact I worked all day, came home, ate dinner and about a half hour later I was completely fine and then the next second I had horrible stomach pains. I sat at the table for a few minutes then decided I REALLY needed to lay down. I lay in the bed thinking, "Great, now I have the flu." I thought maybe a hot bath might make me feel better. Nope. Then I sat there thinking, "If I could just throw up I KNOW I would feel 1000 times better." Well I didn't puke and I couldn't seem to make myself do it, either. The next day I called in to work and sat miserably in the recliner. I still had an appetite, which started me thinking that this was no kind of flu. By Saturday I felt no better. I had a parent meeting for Girl Scouts in the morning and a couple times as I sat there I thought, "Oh god, this is it. I'm about to puke. I wonder what these snobby moms will think if I run over there to the trash can and hurl. Maybe I should just run outside. Maybe I should just curl up on the floor and die right here. I am in a church after all. Seems appropriate." I ended up sparing all of us the awkwardness and didn't puke or die. We had a kid's birthday party to go to at 11 but instead we made reservations at our nearest Emergency Room. After peeing in a cup, getting blood drawn, an ultrasound and ordering a delightful IV of morphine and an anti-nausea med, Dr. English Accent said I have a pretty bad bladder infection and maybe something could be wrong with my gall bladder. "If you're not better by Thursday, come back and you will have won yourself a CT Scan." The morphine cocktail had me feeling not so bad when I left, so armed with my new antibiotic, vicodin and anti-nausea prescriptions we got some dinner and headed home.
Sunday had me feeling pretty much the same and on Monday morning I felt about 50% better. Knowing I couldn't take the vicodin at work I took some anti-nausea pills and headed out. I told everyone my story of going to the ER, "They think it's either my really bad bladder infection or maybe my gall bladder, so we'll see." I said. I went to lunch and got really, really tired so I put my head on the break room table and consequently passed out. I woke up about 20 minutes before my lunch was over and as my boss was walking into the room. He was kinda chuckling at me and he said, "You know what. I think you're done for the day. Why don't you go home and get some rest." It seemed like a really stellar idea to me so off I went. I came home and slept the rest of the afternoon away in the recliner. Adam made dinner and I ate very little. I really had no appetite since I left the ER on Saturday afternoon.
That night as I slept I woke up around 3am and started to roll over in bed when I got a sharp pain on both sides of my stomach. It only lasted for a few seconds. The next day I felt HORRIBLE and called in to work. I decided to try to call my regular doctor and ended up crying on her nurse's voicemail. "That's it, we're going to the ER." Adam said so off we went.
After hearing my story and what had happened at my last ER visit they ordered a CT Scan right away and I began drinking the lemonade/contrast dye. A couple hours later I had my scan and they said it would be about 30-40 minutes before I heard the results. Fifteen minutes later my ER doctor literally came running into my room and said my appendix had ruptured and that they had already called the surgeon. About 10 minutes after that my surgeon, Dr. Fierce, was in my room telling me something about my colon, my previous hernia, which was back, btw, and that I would be in the hospital for the next three to seven days. Wow.
My nurse asked if I was in pain, (duh) and gave me some morphine in my IV. I ended up FINALLY throwing up from the morphine and just like I had thought five days prior, felt SOOO much better.
At about 5pm the wheeled me to the OR and almost as soon as I was on the OR table I was under anesthetic. My appendix had ruptured a portion of my colon so Dr. Fierce had a lot of crap (literally) and infection to clean up, and he also had to re-route my small bowel to another part of my colon. The coolest part of all was they repaired my hernia with a new mesh made from the back of a cadaver. Adam says this automatically makes me part zombie. I woke up after 10pm in my room and in a lot of pain.
The next day I was up and walking around. Not a lot but they said I could get out of there quicker if I got up and about and I wanted the HELL out of there. My blood sugar was really high after surgery so I was the proud owner of an insulin drip for the next 24 hours, along with my 7-day non-stop IV antibiotics. I also got to have my finger pricked every hour on the hour and by the time it was all over my sugar had dropped too low and my finger tips were bruised. I graduated from ice chips to popcicles, (which somehow we had to buy ourselves because the hospital didn't have sugar-free ones) to a clear liquid diet. That was great for about two meals but by the time dinner came on day two, my blood sugar was about 65 and looking at chicken broth and jello made me want to gag. Also I became anemic and had to have two units of blood.
By the end of day two things on the insides were moving. They were actually moving too well if you know what I mean and because of that I got to move up to a little bit better liquid diet. I was moving and grooving up and down the halls, crapping my brains out and watching a whole lotta Lifetime Movie Network. Lifetime television is great because you can fall asleep watching it and you don't really miss out on anything. By the time you wake up someone is still getting abused by their boyfriend/husband, they are still escaping to a whole new town to escape with a new identity and they are going to find a new love. Same story line, just different actors.
The whole time I was also being treated to some pretty great narcotics. Narcotics that would make me hallucinate. Not Fear and Loathing kind of hallucinations, just the kind that would make me smile as I closed my eyes and prepared to pass out. Most every hallucination involved Blake. At one point I could see Blake dressed as a Beatle circa Sgt. Pepper wearing John Lennon sunglasses and a nehru jacket. Kinda like this:
He wasn't actually doing anything. I could only see him from the shoulders up. Just sitting there.
Come about Friday there was talk of me being able to go home on Sunday. I was stoked. I was also eating regular meals, if you want to call hospital food "regular". I was also getting pretty pumped up for the world premier of the Lifetime movie about Drew Petersen starring Rob Lowe on Saturday night.
By the time Saturday rolled around I had blown out three IV's. Apparently antibiotics are pretty hard on them. My nurse tried two other places to put in another IV and she couldn't get it done. "If we can't put in another IV you're going to have to have a central line put in your neck." I was freaking out. They called in the nursing supervisor and she got an IV put in what she called the last place on my body she could possibly use. It was in the fold of my elbow which meant I pretty much had to keep my arm straight. My sister came to visit around 5pm on Saturday and my hospital dinner was actually pretty good. I was pumped up for my Saturday night movie night. My plan was to visit with my sister, have help getting a shower and settling in for my movie. My sister left around 7 which gave me an hour before the movie. As the nurse wrapped up my IV and got everything ready my IV pump started beeping. Turns out she didn't plug it in after my walk earlier so it the battery was almost dead. I was going to have to let it charge before my shower. I ended up missing my movie. Bitches.
I was released the next day, as planned and I spent the week taking recliner naps, watching TV with Adam and running to the bathroom. I came home with a drain still in my wound which I was hoping would get removed at my doc appointment that Friday, but they had to leave it in. I did get about 7,000 staples removed, however. Also my wound isn't quite as healed as they would like so I had to go back to the doctor again yesterday. I went back to work this last Monday, still just a bit sore but feeling soooo much better than the last time they had seen me sleeping in the break room.
I got my drain removed on Friday and have to change the bandages on my incision twice a day but I am feeling a little better every day. I'm finding things that I can and cannot eat very well and I'm looking forward to the day I'm back to "normal".
Saturday, January 7, 2012
The Scoop
I've missed not writing in my blog but I've made a resolution this new year to take 10-20 minutes once a week and post an update, if for nothing else than to share something crazy one of the kids has said. For this post I want to tell you about my new job. That's right, no more 3rd shift! No more weekends! No more holidays! Six months ago I got a job as an administrative assistant/receptionist for a senior center and I ab-so-freaking-lutely LOVE it! We are a non-profit so I don't make as much as I would like to but I wouldn't trade it for anything...well, I would trade it for a big lotto jackpot, I'm not stupid, but I would probably still volunteer there. You know, when I wasn't laying drunk on a beach somewhere.
Anyway, the facility I work at is beautiful. Everyone who walks in our doors that has never been there before always ends up commenting on how really cool it is inside. It's built to look like a town square. Our ceiling has been painted by a local artist to look like the sky. There are street lights and beautiful hardwood floors. Also the hallways make a large rectangle for those wanting to walk for fitness. 11 laps and you've walked a mile. There is a cafe/coffee shop, art room, ceramics room, a fitness center, game room with pool tables and a large dining hall. We also have companies that have rented space within the building that serve a lot of the seniors as well as the community in general such as a beauty salon, a medical clinic and a blood center. Our large hall is booked out often for events such as wedding receptions, birthday parties, etc.
The members are so fantastic. They have completely busted thru every stereo-type I've had about seniors, especially after working at the hospital. I sit at the front desk so I see pretty much all of them as they come in the door and while I don't know all of their names (yet) I do know quite a few and I think they ALL know mine. I love sitting there and hearing "Hi Amy!" "Good morning, Amy!" "How's Amy today?" over and over. The entire staff is great. My first week there I also had to finish up my last week at the hospital and I told all of my friends at the hospital that my new co-workers act like the employees of the hospital should act. Everyone is friendly to everyone and everyone only wants to help everyone else, no matter who they are, a co-worker, one of our members or even a stranger off the street. Of course we all have our moments sometimes, I don't want to make it sound like I work in some sort of fairy tale land, but for the most part it's pretty damn great.
Of course I did have them wondering what was happening about a month after I was hired when I woke up on a Friday and I couldn't open my eye. It was all crusty and gross. "Great. Pink eye." I thought. So I called in and headed to the express clinic where I was told, "Yep, it's pink eye. Here's some drops, you'll be good to go back to work by Monday." Come Monday my eye was still swollen but I was told I was no longer contagious so I headed in to work. Well our senior center also has an adult day center and I wasn't there 5 minutes when I was sent home by the RN from the day center. "Come back when you're better. Just in case." I went home, called my regular doctor and she saw me late that afternoon. She was a little worried by what she saw so she referred me to an opthamologist. My appointment with them was the day after that and by that time my eye looked a little something like this:
Anyway, the facility I work at is beautiful. Everyone who walks in our doors that has never been there before always ends up commenting on how really cool it is inside. It's built to look like a town square. Our ceiling has been painted by a local artist to look like the sky. There are street lights and beautiful hardwood floors. Also the hallways make a large rectangle for those wanting to walk for fitness. 11 laps and you've walked a mile. There is a cafe/coffee shop, art room, ceramics room, a fitness center, game room with pool tables and a large dining hall. We also have companies that have rented space within the building that serve a lot of the seniors as well as the community in general such as a beauty salon, a medical clinic and a blood center. Our large hall is booked out often for events such as wedding receptions, birthday parties, etc.
The members are so fantastic. They have completely busted thru every stereo-type I've had about seniors, especially after working at the hospital. I sit at the front desk so I see pretty much all of them as they come in the door and while I don't know all of their names (yet) I do know quite a few and I think they ALL know mine. I love sitting there and hearing "Hi Amy!" "Good morning, Amy!" "How's Amy today?" over and over. The entire staff is great. My first week there I also had to finish up my last week at the hospital and I told all of my friends at the hospital that my new co-workers act like the employees of the hospital should act. Everyone is friendly to everyone and everyone only wants to help everyone else, no matter who they are, a co-worker, one of our members or even a stranger off the street. Of course we all have our moments sometimes, I don't want to make it sound like I work in some sort of fairy tale land, but for the most part it's pretty damn great.
Of course I did have them wondering what was happening about a month after I was hired when I woke up on a Friday and I couldn't open my eye. It was all crusty and gross. "Great. Pink eye." I thought. So I called in and headed to the express clinic where I was told, "Yep, it's pink eye. Here's some drops, you'll be good to go back to work by Monday." Come Monday my eye was still swollen but I was told I was no longer contagious so I headed in to work. Well our senior center also has an adult day center and I wasn't there 5 minutes when I was sent home by the RN from the day center. "Come back when you're better. Just in case." I went home, called my regular doctor and she saw me late that afternoon. She was a little worried by what she saw so she referred me to an opthamologist. My appointment with them was the day after that and by that time my eye looked a little something like this:
I couldn't open it much. Things got pretty interesting at the eye doctor's office. I was called back, the doctor came in, took a quick look at my eye without touching me, asked what happened and she then told me what I had has gone viral, it was EXTREMELY contagious and that it was probably going to get worse before it got better and that she can't prescribe anything for me. Oh, and it usually lasts about 2 weeks, at least. TWO WEEKS??? I've only had this for...one, two, three...five days and I still have another...a lot of days to go???? Then she called in a nurse, told the nurse I had some fancy word for "the funky eye" and please escort me to the door to ensure I do not touch anyone or anything. The nurse and I stopped by the front desk, she told the receptionist I had a fancy word for the funky eye and, "Please be sure to wipe down your entire work area after processing her paperwork." From there she actually did walk me to the door and she told me I would be billed for my visit.
WOW.
The next day, (Wednesday for those of you keeping track) my eye actually hurt. Up until this time it didn't really hurt at all but Wednesday was when it started to feel like there was sand under my eyelid and the swelling was putting a lot of pressure on my eye. Also until this point all I had pretty much been doing at home was washing my hands constantly and doing laundry. Wednesday afternoon I ran out of paper towels (from drying my hands) and laundry soap. I had to go out in public. I donned a pair of shades (which almost didn't fit, by the way because my eye was so swollen it would brush up against the inside of my sunglasses every time I blinked) and I headed to Wal-Mart. By Friday I noticed a big difference in my eye. It was actually looking better! On Saturday I was even so brave as to wear makeup and on Monday I went back to work. Two weeks, my ass! They don't know what caused it but I told everyone on Facebook that it's because Adam most likely farted on my pillow, and that's the story I'm sticking to, kids.
Next up...a surprise trip to the windy city!
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Acne
Because he's a caveman and can't be trusted to be at home alone with Emily for a couple hours after school, Blake goes to the YMCA Kid's Club when school gets out everyday. Then I pick him up in the gym when I get off work. It's sort of expensive when you think about the fact he's only there for 12.5 hours a week but we don't have any other choice and it's only until Adam gets laid off this winter.
So yesterday I picked Blake up and he seemed kinda run down, kinda tired. I asked him what was wrong and he said they made him play "The Screaming Game." Sounds like something I play in my head about three or four times a day at work. He said basically they scream and run around and that he didn't want to do it but the lady told him, "I didn't ask you if you WANT to I said you HAD to."
"Screw you, 19 year-old chubby girl!" is what I thought in my head. Blake said it gave him a sore throat, a headache and made it kinda hard for him to breathe. (Just before the end of the school year, Blake was diagnosed with activity-induced asthma. It's not usually an issue but he occasionally has trouble breathing when he's running around.) When we got home he said he still felt yucky so I said, "You know what? Next time that girl tells you you HAVE to play tell her your mother said you don't have to because last time it made your throat hurt and it was hard for you to breath afterwards because you have asthma." I said, "Don't say it like some snobby kid, just tell her nicely and ask if you can just sit in the corner quietly while they play."
Flash forward to this morning. Blake's second mother, my 10 year-old daughter Emily said, "Now Blake, if they ask you to play the screaming game, what are you going to tell them?"
"My mom said I don't have to because it makes my throat hurt and plus I have acne."
Lemme know how that works out for ya, buddy!
So yesterday I picked Blake up and he seemed kinda run down, kinda tired. I asked him what was wrong and he said they made him play "The Screaming Game." Sounds like something I play in my head about three or four times a day at work. He said basically they scream and run around and that he didn't want to do it but the lady told him, "I didn't ask you if you WANT to I said you HAD to."
"Screw you, 19 year-old chubby girl!" is what I thought in my head. Blake said it gave him a sore throat, a headache and made it kinda hard for him to breathe. (Just before the end of the school year, Blake was diagnosed with activity-induced asthma. It's not usually an issue but he occasionally has trouble breathing when he's running around.) When we got home he said he still felt yucky so I said, "You know what? Next time that girl tells you you HAVE to play tell her your mother said you don't have to because last time it made your throat hurt and it was hard for you to breath afterwards because you have asthma." I said, "Don't say it like some snobby kid, just tell her nicely and ask if you can just sit in the corner quietly while they play."
Flash forward to this morning. Blake's second mother, my 10 year-old daughter Emily said, "Now Blake, if they ask you to play the screaming game, what are you going to tell them?"
"My mom said I don't have to because it makes my throat hurt and plus I have acne."
Lemme know how that works out for ya, buddy!
memory
I've been reading a blog a young woman has been writing; a woman who's husband drown just a year ago. He was only 34 or 35 and a famous cellist who played with John Mayer, Coldplay, Katy Perry to name a few. I've posted the link to that blog here before. Today I was catching up on the last couple days of her posts and something she said struck me:
We thoroughly critiqued each movie that we saw afterwards but I had a very bad memory in that I never remembered which movies I had already seen. You were in charge of telling me, "You already saw that...don't you remember?"
That's totally Adam and I. I RARELY remember movies I've seen. I'll always ask him, "Have I seen that?" "Yeah, don't you remember? They were stuck up on that ski lift and there were the wolves and stuff??" "Ooooh yeaaaahhh!!!" Sometimes we need to rely on others in ways we don't realize. Thanks Adam.
We thoroughly critiqued each movie that we saw afterwards but I had a very bad memory in that I never remembered which movies I had already seen. You were in charge of telling me, "You already saw that...don't you remember?"
That's totally Adam and I. I RARELY remember movies I've seen. I'll always ask him, "Have I seen that?" "Yeah, don't you remember? They were stuck up on that ski lift and there were the wolves and stuff??" "Ooooh yeaaaahhh!!!" Sometimes we need to rely on others in ways we don't realize. Thanks Adam.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Check it out!
My pal Allie over at http://www.wardrobeoxygen.com/ is having a contest to try out COVERGIRL's new LashPerfection mascara. Go check it out. You won't win, because I'm planning on winning but you can dream, I guess. lol
http://www.wardrobeoxygen.com/2011/10/review-and-giveaway-covergirl.html
http://www.wardrobeoxygen.com/2011/10/review-and-giveaway-covergirl.html
Sunday, September 11, 2011
10 Years
This weekend I was gathering up laundry in the bedroom when I came across a box of pictures that I had shoved under the bed long ago. They were all (or mostly all) pictures of Emily when she was about two. Looking at all of those pictures and knowing she was turning 10 on Monday I realized they represented a lot of hopes and dreams I have for my little girl. (Don't tell her I just called her a 'little girl'. I called her that earlier today and was promptly scolded)
So, in honor of Miss Emily Rainn Warren turning 10, here are a small sample of those pictures and my hopes for her.
So, in honor of Miss Emily Rainn Warren turning 10, here are a small sample of those pictures and my hopes for her.
Even though you're no longer going to be taking any dance classes this year, I still hope you take the time to dance. Dance by yourself, dance with your friends, dance with your daddy, but just dance. Like the saying goes, "Dance like no one's watching."
It's cheesy, but I hope you take the time to stop and smell the flowers. Don't rush through life, just wasting time waiting to be in high school, or in college, or out on your own, married, having babies, or whatever the next goal you want for yourself may be because pretty soon you'll look back and wonder where all the time went and you'll wish you would have done this or that or enjoyed more moments. Enjoy your moments, no matter how small.
The world is a big, scary place but your parents will always be there next to you, supporting you, no matter what.
I'm sorry we ruined Twinkies for you last year by giving you one of those "Shrek" Twinkies with the green creme filling. They totally freaked you out and you hate Twinkies now. I hope you can love them again. (Sorry also to my best pal Tanya Jo! She loves Twinkies and is probably cursing me for doing such a horrible thing to an innocent snack cake.)
I hope you always have a caring spirit that wants to take care of others, no matter how small.
I hope you always love the simple things in life like Nemo balloons and early morning Sesame Street.
May you never lose the excitement of a really cute pair of shoes.
I hope you always enjoy nature and enjoy learning about science and all those things I thought were lame and boring. Learn everything you can about anything. You never know when you'll need to know it.
I hope you take the time to relax and enjoy yourself once in a while. Soon your life is going to get even more crazy with friends, activities and social engagements that you think you can't miss out on and before you know it you're all grown up and wishing you could go back to this moment. Take advantage of naps. ;)
...at the same time, take the time to spread your wings and explore. Be adventurous. Don't look back and wish you would have done more while you were more of a free spirit. Fly.
I hope we've made you happy as you've made us.
I hope you'll always remember how to laugh and have a good time. You have THE BEST sense of humor and it's something that can easily get lost. Nothing ever needs to be taken so seriously that you can't smile about it.
Now, and this is the most important thing I could ever express to you. No matter WHAT happens, I'm always a phone call away. Call your mother. Always.
Happy Birthday Emily Rainn Warren!! I love you!!
(September 15, 2001. Emily and I getting ready to go home from the hospital)
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Sad, pissed, hurt and disappointed
A few weeks ago I found out that one of my co-workers, we'll call her "Beth" has breast cancer. She is my age, had a baby last year and has another two boys that I would guess are under the age of 11. She beat breast cancer before 5 years ago and was looking to fight the good fight again. Last week she went to the Cancer Center in Chicago to find out exactly was going on in her body and start a game plan and treatment. Yesterday was her first day back to work. Unfortunately she had to leave ill due to the effects of the chemo she was given in Chicago. This morning I found out her cancer is stage 4, it has spread to her lungs, her liver, her bones and two other places that I don't even remember. This is not a fight she will likely win. I was heartbroken. I don't work with her often, mostly in passing and usually that only happens once every couple months but ours is a small department and we are all close.
Our department lead is a 25 year old "girl" who I used to have a lot of respect for. I don't always believe in the way she deals with things in her personal life, such as buying $80 swimsuits for her 5 year old, simply because they're Burberry (yes, she is a name-brand whore) and she smothers her two kids to the point that they will most likely hate her by the time they reach 12. (for example, she won't let her daughter eat lunch by herself at school because she--and I quote--"doesn't think a baby should have to eat lunch without her mommy." WTF, people???) but I digress. How she runs her personal life and raises her kids are her business, I only have to hear about it when we work together.
So my 25 year old "boss" doesn't like "Beth". She never has. She was hired just as my boss was coming into the department so she never really had a say when she was hired. "Beth" is not rich, by any means. She wears clothes that are either homemade or are pretty obviously old and outdated. She does not look sloppy. She comes to work clean and tidy but she doesn't not wear name brands. (oh the horror!) But guess what? Neither does anyone else in our office! At every opportunity my boss is given she gives "Beth" as much shit as possible. Things everyone else in the department gets away with, "Beth" does not. Keep in mind, "Beth" is not full-time. She works 4 days a pay period, just like me and also has another part-time job somewhere else where she does similar work as we do in the Switchboard. She's a nice person who was just dealt a very shitty hand.
When "Beth" found out she had cancer she told our boss and she also told her she was going to Chicago for treatment. With the way "Beth's" schedule works, she was basically going to have to miss one of her scheduled days for her trip to Chicago last week, but she had Earned Time to use in it's place. This shouldn't be a problem. Quite honestly our department could probably make due without "Beth" on the schedule but it works out a lot better with her there. We would just be shorthanded occasionally. Our supervisor didn't take this well though and called her at home and just ripped into her. Actually yelling at her and telling her she didn't have anyone to cover her. Why would you treat someone who just found out they have cancer like that you ask? Because my 25 year old boss doesn't think "Beth" has cancer. She has told a couple people in the department that she thinks she is lying. Who lies about that kind of thing???
Flash forward to yesterday when "Beth" came in for her first day back to work. She ended up having to leave early, as I said, because of the chemo treatment she received in Chicago. She called our boss at home and also explained to her the extent of her illness. Immediately after hanging up with "Beth" my boss called Employee Health about "Beth's" so-called illness.
Outing an employee's illness to Employee Health is a lot like telling your Nazi neighbors that your very Jewish friends are coming over for dinner tomorrow night at 7:00. Ok, maybe that's a little over the top but seriously, was that phone call necessary?? She did it because she doesn't believe "Beth" and wants her to have to prove herself. She's basically trying to shove her out of the department. What did Employee Health do? They immediately called "Beth" at home and told her she had two choices, 1. Keep working her scheduled days with no issues. 2. Quit. They said she does not qualify for FMLA because she is part-time and that if she can't work when she is scheduled then she doesn't need to return to work. WHAT. THE. FUCK??
Until about an hour ago I loved the company I work for. I really thought it was a great place to work that took care of it's employees. How can I support a hospital that would treat what is basically a terminally ill employee so badly? If we can't take care of our own, how are we taking care of our patients? I am sad, I am pissed, I am hurt and I am disappointed.
Our department lead is a 25 year old "girl" who I used to have a lot of respect for. I don't always believe in the way she deals with things in her personal life, such as buying $80 swimsuits for her 5 year old, simply because they're Burberry (yes, she is a name-brand whore) and she smothers her two kids to the point that they will most likely hate her by the time they reach 12. (for example, she won't let her daughter eat lunch by herself at school because she--and I quote--"doesn't think a baby should have to eat lunch without her mommy." WTF, people???) but I digress. How she runs her personal life and raises her kids are her business, I only have to hear about it when we work together.
So my 25 year old "boss" doesn't like "Beth". She never has. She was hired just as my boss was coming into the department so she never really had a say when she was hired. "Beth" is not rich, by any means. She wears clothes that are either homemade or are pretty obviously old and outdated. She does not look sloppy. She comes to work clean and tidy but she doesn't not wear name brands. (oh the horror!) But guess what? Neither does anyone else in our office! At every opportunity my boss is given she gives "Beth" as much shit as possible. Things everyone else in the department gets away with, "Beth" does not. Keep in mind, "Beth" is not full-time. She works 4 days a pay period, just like me and also has another part-time job somewhere else where she does similar work as we do in the Switchboard. She's a nice person who was just dealt a very shitty hand.
When "Beth" found out she had cancer she told our boss and she also told her she was going to Chicago for treatment. With the way "Beth's" schedule works, she was basically going to have to miss one of her scheduled days for her trip to Chicago last week, but she had Earned Time to use in it's place. This shouldn't be a problem. Quite honestly our department could probably make due without "Beth" on the schedule but it works out a lot better with her there. We would just be shorthanded occasionally. Our supervisor didn't take this well though and called her at home and just ripped into her. Actually yelling at her and telling her she didn't have anyone to cover her. Why would you treat someone who just found out they have cancer like that you ask? Because my 25 year old boss doesn't think "Beth" has cancer. She has told a couple people in the department that she thinks she is lying. Who lies about that kind of thing???
Flash forward to yesterday when "Beth" came in for her first day back to work. She ended up having to leave early, as I said, because of the chemo treatment she received in Chicago. She called our boss at home and also explained to her the extent of her illness. Immediately after hanging up with "Beth" my boss called Employee Health about "Beth's" so-called illness.
Outing an employee's illness to Employee Health is a lot like telling your Nazi neighbors that your very Jewish friends are coming over for dinner tomorrow night at 7:00. Ok, maybe that's a little over the top but seriously, was that phone call necessary?? She did it because she doesn't believe "Beth" and wants her to have to prove herself. She's basically trying to shove her out of the department. What did Employee Health do? They immediately called "Beth" at home and told her she had two choices, 1. Keep working her scheduled days with no issues. 2. Quit. They said she does not qualify for FMLA because she is part-time and that if she can't work when she is scheduled then she doesn't need to return to work. WHAT. THE. FUCK??
Until about an hour ago I loved the company I work for. I really thought it was a great place to work that took care of it's employees. How can I support a hospital that would treat what is basically a terminally ill employee so badly? If we can't take care of our own, how are we taking care of our patients? I am sad, I am pissed, I am hurt and I am disappointed.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
sad
Not long after I started at Trinity in 2006 I happened upon a blog quite accidentally. The author lives in Canada and had been writing his blog for several years (the blog recently turned 10) but he had just found out that he had colon cancer. This was in 2007. Most of his posts after that were about his fight with that cancer, but he was also able to blog about the things he loved blogging about, which was music, photography and techy/geeky crap, which quite honestly I had no interest in. It was his fight with cancer and most of his posts about music that interested me.
I never put it in my blogroll so his blog was one I normally only read at work whenever it crossed my mind to do so. In November of last year he realized he would not be winning his fight with cancer so he decided to stop his treatments. He started writing about death and what was happening to his body. I sort of put his blog out of my mind for a while and had a panic earlier tonight at work when I realized it had been a couple of months since I had read it. Sadly, on May 3rd, he passed away. His last post (besides one he had written to be posted after he died) was on April 27th. I had to go back to the last post I had read and start reading until what I knew was his last post. He left a wife of 23 years and two daughters.
What I know about Derek from reading his blog is that he was not afraid to die. Sad, of course that he would be leaving his family and that he would be missing out on all of the things that they will experience in life from this moment on, but not afraid. He was a man of science, studying biology so he knows that dying is a natural course of nature.
One of his lasts posts struck me as he talked about one of my favorite artists, Adele. He had been listening to her new album, which is simply fantastic, and was struck by one of her songs for his own reasons. You can read this post here:
Derek K. Miller
I have known since he posted back in November that he was ceasing his treatments that he would one day pass, but I had no idea how sad it would make me feel. A man I never even knew. I feel sad for his daughters who will not have their dad there with them through life. I feel sad for his wife who has lost the partner she has shared over half of her life with. Fuck cancer.
I never put it in my blogroll so his blog was one I normally only read at work whenever it crossed my mind to do so. In November of last year he realized he would not be winning his fight with cancer so he decided to stop his treatments. He started writing about death and what was happening to his body. I sort of put his blog out of my mind for a while and had a panic earlier tonight at work when I realized it had been a couple of months since I had read it. Sadly, on May 3rd, he passed away. His last post (besides one he had written to be posted after he died) was on April 27th. I had to go back to the last post I had read and start reading until what I knew was his last post. He left a wife of 23 years and two daughters.
What I know about Derek from reading his blog is that he was not afraid to die. Sad, of course that he would be leaving his family and that he would be missing out on all of the things that they will experience in life from this moment on, but not afraid. He was a man of science, studying biology so he knows that dying is a natural course of nature.
One of his lasts posts struck me as he talked about one of my favorite artists, Adele. He had been listening to her new album, which is simply fantastic, and was struck by one of her songs for his own reasons. You can read this post here:
Derek K. Miller
I have known since he posted back in November that he was ceasing his treatments that he would one day pass, but I had no idea how sad it would make me feel. A man I never even knew. I feel sad for his daughters who will not have their dad there with them through life. I feel sad for his wife who has lost the partner she has shared over half of her life with. Fuck cancer.
Monday, May 23, 2011
Love is a Battlefield...and so is Emily's room.
Today I recreated the final dance scene from the "Love Is A Battlefield" video for Adam while we were emptying Emily's room of all of her prized possessions. (More on that in a bit). Of course then I had to go watch the video on YouTube and then write a recap of the video for my Facebook friends because I think they count on me for these kinds of things. At least that's what I pretend. Now, I'm going to do the same for you:
In case you forgot what the final dance scene in this video was like it starts at 3:20. If you need a little background, Pat Benetar is a 32 year old woman playing a 17 year old girl who gets kicked out of her house by her father who is a butcher played by Trey Wilson, who looks like Gny St. Hartman from Full Metal Jacket, but isn't. Pat then wanders the street in cool 80's/hooker clothes and finally lands a gig in a sweaty club as some sort of girl who dances with dudes while having a wishful/bored look on her face. Also, she writes letters to her little brother back home via snail mail. It's at this point the final dance scene begins when Pat and all of the other bored hooker clothing clad dancers start group dancing towards the club owner in some sort of angry "you can't tell us what to do because we have this dance thing and can snap our fingers" display. Pat declares "WE ARE YOUNG!" but really, they're all pushing 30. Pat throws a drink in the owner's face, they continue coming at him with their dance moves and then finally take their army to the street in 3x3 fashion. It's out here where they hug Pat good-bye and she hops on a bus going where...we do not know. Awesome video.
Now, regarding Emily's room. It's AWFUL. And I mean awful. It rivals any episode of Hoarders. So, last Monday I told her she had until this Monday to get it cleaned up or else we were packing everything up and storing it in the garage. At any point did Emily lift a finger last week to clean any of it? Nope. Are all of her toys, art supplies and the pile of earrings I found on a random piece of furniture now packed up and in the garage? Yep. Surprise!!! I don't know if she thought we were kidding but it turns out we weren't. She's gonna be so happy! Ok, maybe that's just us.
Here is the word for word recap I posted to FB:
In case you forgot what the final dance scene in this video was like it starts at 3:20. If you need a little background, Pat Benetar is a 32 year old woman playing a 17 year old girl who gets kicked out of her house by her father who is a butcher played by Trey Wilson, who looks like Gny St. Hartman from Full Metal Jacket, but isn't. Pat then wanders the street in cool 80's/hooker clothes and finally lands a gig in a sweaty club as some sort of girl who dances with dudes while having a wishful/bored look on her face. Also, she writes letters to her little brother back home via snail mail. It's at this point the final dance scene begins when Pat and all of the other bored hooker clothing clad dancers start group dancing towards the club owner in some sort of angry "you can't tell us what to do because we have this dance thing and can snap our fingers" display. Pat declares "WE ARE YOUNG!" but really, they're all pushing 30. Pat throws a drink in the owner's face, they continue coming at him with their dance moves and then finally take their army to the street in 3x3 fashion. It's out here where they hug Pat good-bye and she hops on a bus going where...we do not know. Awesome video.
Now, regarding Emily's room. It's AWFUL. And I mean awful. It rivals any episode of Hoarders. So, last Monday I told her she had until this Monday to get it cleaned up or else we were packing everything up and storing it in the garage. At any point did Emily lift a finger last week to clean any of it? Nope. Are all of her toys, art supplies and the pile of earrings I found on a random piece of furniture now packed up and in the garage? Yep. Surprise!!! I don't know if she thought we were kidding but it turns out we weren't. She's gonna be so happy! Ok, maybe that's just us.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Updates
I'm skipping this Saturday's (and obviously last Saturday's) untitled posts simply because I've just become uninspired by them and want to wait until I have fun things to share, instead of a bunch of crap thrown together just to simply post them. Instead I thought I would ramble about things that are going on in our little family.
As per usual for us, when it rains it pours. It never fails that when one thing goes wrong in our family, everything else just starts to crumble slowly like an Angry Birds structure. A couple weeks ago we were notified by mail that Adam's unemployment was going to start being cut by about $125 a week. For those not very good with math, that's $500 a month. For a family that pretty much lives paycheck to paycheck this means something or somethings don't get paid. For us this week it meant groceries and cable. In fact on Monday night Adam fed the kids spaghetti noodles flavored with a packet of french onion soup and we didn't eat. The kids loved it. Thought it was Ramen.
On Tuesday I was driving the hour to Iowa City to take Blake to a doctor appointment at the Children's Hospital and my car overheated. The most awesome part was that I knew when I left the house that we had no money in our bank account and I had a whopping $18 in cash on me. I put $15 of it in my gas tank before we hit the interstate. Now we're sitting there on the shoulder of I-80 and I'm thinking, what the hell am I going to do?? I called our insurance company about our roadside assistance and explained that I needed a tow truck but didn't have the luxury of being able to pay for it and then get reimbursed. She hooked me up with a company that would just bill them for the tow. Thank you kind insurance lady!
So after two very sweaty hours of being stuck on the interstate, the tow truck came and Adam picked Blake and I up to take us home. Adam, also had very little gas in his tank so I gave him the $3 I had left to put in his tank. I figured it could make the difference between us getting back home and getting stuck on the interstate again. While I was digging in my purse I found a hidden eight bucks! Whoohoo!! I snatched the $3 back from Adam, gave him the $8 and took Blake inside the gas station for a much needed bottle of whatever he wanted to drink that didn't have "Monster", "Red Bull" or "Boone's Farm" on the label. He chose the biggest bottle of sweet tea he could find and sucked most of it down before we pulled up in front of the house. Way to dehydrate your six year-old, mom!
That night I talked to a close family member and they were able to loan us some money so we can afford gas and groceries. Thank you kind family member! As far as the car we still don't know what's wrong with it. It's still in the shop. Our mechanic is a friend of the family and we told him the car was being towed to him but that we were not in a hurry for it. It sucks being down to one car but we're making it work.
Today we dropped Emily off with her Girl Scout troop and they went on an overnight camping trip. It's been raining all day, it's supposed to rain all night but they have decent tents and a small cabin so they're making it work. I'm just hoping she doesn't come home with a bad cold or worse.
Tonight we had to pick up a few things from Wal-Mart. We were heading home around 9:00 and had just passed the movie theater. We got to the next intersection and standing there on the corner, in the dark, and the rain were five teenage girls, probably age 14-15. We had a red light and they ran across the street in front of our car. They all stopped in the median in the middle of the road and then, without realizing that traffic was heading into the intersection to turn left and head the opposite way we were heading, they all started running across the street again. A car turned and the first girl ran right after the car. A second girl didn't realize there was another car coming and she ran across the street too. This car just barely, and I mean BARELY missed her. In fact, if she felt the car tap her heel as she ran it wouldn't have surprised me. Adam and I saw it coming and I screamed as the car whizzed past her. All of us just sat there, frozen. The rest of the girls ran across the street laughing and one of them hugged the lucky girl. The worst part is that one of their parents had probably just dropped the girls off at the movies. Who knows where they were headed. Blake was watching all of it from the backseat and was just as freaked out as the rest of us. I'm soooo glad that the worst didn't happen and even more glad it didn't happen in front of my little boy. If I would have been the lady that was driving that car I would have pulled over and freaked out on them. I would have asked for their parents phone numbers so that they knew where they were. If me almost hitting you with my car didn't freak you out, lemme see what happens when you know I'm about to call your dad. Stupid, lucky little girl.
As per usual for us, when it rains it pours. It never fails that when one thing goes wrong in our family, everything else just starts to crumble slowly like an Angry Birds structure. A couple weeks ago we were notified by mail that Adam's unemployment was going to start being cut by about $125 a week. For those not very good with math, that's $500 a month. For a family that pretty much lives paycheck to paycheck this means something or somethings don't get paid. For us this week it meant groceries and cable. In fact on Monday night Adam fed the kids spaghetti noodles flavored with a packet of french onion soup and we didn't eat. The kids loved it. Thought it was Ramen.
On Tuesday I was driving the hour to Iowa City to take Blake to a doctor appointment at the Children's Hospital and my car overheated. The most awesome part was that I knew when I left the house that we had no money in our bank account and I had a whopping $18 in cash on me. I put $15 of it in my gas tank before we hit the interstate. Now we're sitting there on the shoulder of I-80 and I'm thinking, what the hell am I going to do?? I called our insurance company about our roadside assistance and explained that I needed a tow truck but didn't have the luxury of being able to pay for it and then get reimbursed. She hooked me up with a company that would just bill them for the tow. Thank you kind insurance lady!
So after two very sweaty hours of being stuck on the interstate, the tow truck came and Adam picked Blake and I up to take us home. Adam, also had very little gas in his tank so I gave him the $3 I had left to put in his tank. I figured it could make the difference between us getting back home and getting stuck on the interstate again. While I was digging in my purse I found a hidden eight bucks! Whoohoo!! I snatched the $3 back from Adam, gave him the $8 and took Blake inside the gas station for a much needed bottle of whatever he wanted to drink that didn't have "Monster", "Red Bull" or "Boone's Farm" on the label. He chose the biggest bottle of sweet tea he could find and sucked most of it down before we pulled up in front of the house. Way to dehydrate your six year-old, mom!
That night I talked to a close family member and they were able to loan us some money so we can afford gas and groceries. Thank you kind family member! As far as the car we still don't know what's wrong with it. It's still in the shop. Our mechanic is a friend of the family and we told him the car was being towed to him but that we were not in a hurry for it. It sucks being down to one car but we're making it work.
Today we dropped Emily off with her Girl Scout troop and they went on an overnight camping trip. It's been raining all day, it's supposed to rain all night but they have decent tents and a small cabin so they're making it work. I'm just hoping she doesn't come home with a bad cold or worse.
Tonight we had to pick up a few things from Wal-Mart. We were heading home around 9:00 and had just passed the movie theater. We got to the next intersection and standing there on the corner, in the dark, and the rain were five teenage girls, probably age 14-15. We had a red light and they ran across the street in front of our car. They all stopped in the median in the middle of the road and then, without realizing that traffic was heading into the intersection to turn left and head the opposite way we were heading, they all started running across the street again. A car turned and the first girl ran right after the car. A second girl didn't realize there was another car coming and she ran across the street too. This car just barely, and I mean BARELY missed her. In fact, if she felt the car tap her heel as she ran it wouldn't have surprised me. Adam and I saw it coming and I screamed as the car whizzed past her. All of us just sat there, frozen. The rest of the girls ran across the street laughing and one of them hugged the lucky girl. The worst part is that one of their parents had probably just dropped the girls off at the movies. Who knows where they were headed. Blake was watching all of it from the backseat and was just as freaked out as the rest of us. I'm soooo glad that the worst didn't happen and even more glad it didn't happen in front of my little boy. If I would have been the lady that was driving that car I would have pulled over and freaked out on them. I would have asked for their parents phone numbers so that they knew where they were. If me almost hitting you with my car didn't freak you out, lemme see what happens when you know I'm about to call your dad. Stupid, lucky little girl.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Eff You, April!!
I hate the month of April. So did my mom. Everything bad that ever happened to our family happened in April. My brother drown on April 27, 1983, ten days after his 23rd birthday. On April 27th, 1995 my mom had congestive heart failure. April 26, 1996 she had it again. This time it was worse and was followed by a mild stroke that went undiagnosed for about a week despite me and my sister telling the hospital staff that something was just not right. We thought it was a stroke. She had gone blind and paralyzed on her left side. They said she was just on a lot of meds and weren't concerned. Idiots. Luckily her strength and sight came back eventually. When my sister was driving mom to OSF St. Francis hospital in Peoria towards the end of March 1999 my mom commented that April was coming up. "Oh I hate that fucking April." She died on April 6th, 1999.
For me every year when May 1st rolls around it's a lot like coming out of the basement after a bad storm. I sort of pat myself, check for bruises, scrapes and broken bones, do a head count of everyone and take a deep breath. Then I put two fingers in the air. "Fuck you April! I made it!!"
For me every year when May 1st rolls around it's a lot like coming out of the basement after a bad storm. I sort of pat myself, check for bruises, scrapes and broken bones, do a head count of everyone and take a deep breath. Then I put two fingers in the air. "Fuck you April! I made it!!"
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Untitled Saturday
**In my own defense, I totally started this blog on Friday night, so it would be ready to post on Saturday but then Adam got all whiny and guilt tripped me into hanging out with him.
Because I know you're all wondering, yes, I did get up early Friday morning to watch the Royal Wedding. No, I don't care if you think it was stupid, nor do I care that you're "over it". Some people are into sports and playoffs and yada yada. I then get to read all about your wishes for draft picks, hopes for games you want won or and rants about missed plays. I get this one thing, ok? Ok.
So, even though it was just me and my Hello Kitty blanket wrapped up on the couch at 5am, (sigh....ok...yes, I have a Hello Kitty blanket. She's got street cred so shut up.) I still shouted "PIPPA!" every time they showed Pippa Middleton. Couldn't help it. In the end I enjoyed the quiet time sitting in the house with everyone sleeping while I watched the wedding, but most of all I liked the nap I took on the couch, still wrapped up in my HK blanket immediately afterwards.
For this week's post I have decided to share with you some of my favorite sellers and/or items currently found on Etsy. If you did not know, I have my own Etsy shop, http://www.ransomink.etsy.com/ where I sell brutally honest cards and mustache pins. I haven't sold much but I have sold a few dozen things and I like using my creativity to create my own merchandise. My cards and pins are also available at http://www.derbylittlesecrets.com/.
The first shop I ever purchased from on Etsy was from Snarky Cards. The shop is owned by Alisa Starr and she was my inspiration for my own line of cards. I purchased three cards, I believe for Jim. She hand paints them and then types the message using an old typewriter, leaving blanks for you to fill in whatever information is necessary. She also sells them in bars in a box that hangs around her neck, nestled under her boobs, old school cigarette girl style. Very clever indeed!
I love sugar skulls. In fact if I ever get a tattoo I think it would be a sugar skull. A couple years ago I decided I wanted some sugar skull paintings for our master bath. I bought them from Creepy Sugar. They match our shower curtain perfectly.
Loopy Boopy sells beautiful, haunting dolls. They are handmade of clay and I think most are around 10 inches tall. They are pricey and out of my budget but if I had the cash, I would consider treating myself to one of these dolls. They remind me of that NIN video.
An item I would love to have as well is the Dave Grohl finger puppet. Love it. Love Dave.
Not as cool or exciting as some of the other shops or items I've mentioned is this jewelry holder. I have a shit ton of jewelry, earrings mostly and they are becoming cluttered in my jewelry armoire. This will most likely be my next purchase. I plan on getting an all black one, wall mounted and the seller said they will add pegs to the bottom for me so I can hang necklaces or bracelets if I want, no extra charge. I thought that was cool of him.
These are pricey, but considering the work that went into them, probably reasonably priced. I am a huge RENT head and would covet these on my fridge. (How cute is Angel???) Would make a fantastic birthday gift!! Hint, hint.
Because I know you're all wondering, yes, I did get up early Friday morning to watch the Royal Wedding. No, I don't care if you think it was stupid, nor do I care that you're "over it". Some people are into sports and playoffs and yada yada. I then get to read all about your wishes for draft picks, hopes for games you want won or and rants about missed plays. I get this one thing, ok? Ok.
So, even though it was just me and my Hello Kitty blanket wrapped up on the couch at 5am, (sigh....ok...yes, I have a Hello Kitty blanket. She's got street cred so shut up.) I still shouted "PIPPA!" every time they showed Pippa Middleton. Couldn't help it. In the end I enjoyed the quiet time sitting in the house with everyone sleeping while I watched the wedding, but most of all I liked the nap I took on the couch, still wrapped up in my HK blanket immediately afterwards.
For this week's post I have decided to share with you some of my favorite sellers and/or items currently found on Etsy. If you did not know, I have my own Etsy shop, http://www.ransomink.etsy.com/ where I sell brutally honest cards and mustache pins. I haven't sold much but I have sold a few dozen things and I like using my creativity to create my own merchandise. My cards and pins are also available at http://www.derbylittlesecrets.com/.
The first shop I ever purchased from on Etsy was from Snarky Cards. The shop is owned by Alisa Starr and she was my inspiration for my own line of cards. I purchased three cards, I believe for Jim. She hand paints them and then types the message using an old typewriter, leaving blanks for you to fill in whatever information is necessary. She also sells them in bars in a box that hangs around her neck, nestled under her boobs, old school cigarette girl style. Very clever indeed!
I love sugar skulls. In fact if I ever get a tattoo I think it would be a sugar skull. A couple years ago I decided I wanted some sugar skull paintings for our master bath. I bought them from Creepy Sugar. They match our shower curtain perfectly.
Loopy Boopy sells beautiful, haunting dolls. They are handmade of clay and I think most are around 10 inches tall. They are pricey and out of my budget but if I had the cash, I would consider treating myself to one of these dolls. They remind me of that NIN video.
An item I would love to have as well is the Dave Grohl finger puppet. Love it. Love Dave.
Not as cool or exciting as some of the other shops or items I've mentioned is this jewelry holder. I have a shit ton of jewelry, earrings mostly and they are becoming cluttered in my jewelry armoire. This will most likely be my next purchase. I plan on getting an all black one, wall mounted and the seller said they will add pegs to the bottom for me so I can hang necklaces or bracelets if I want, no extra charge. I thought that was cool of him.
These are pricey, but considering the work that went into them, probably reasonably priced. I am a huge RENT head and would covet these on my fridge. (How cute is Angel???) Would make a fantastic birthday gift!! Hint, hint.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
...yeah...
One time I said I would do these blogs filled with interesting things to see and do on the Internet every Saturday. I've never posted them on a Saturday since. So sue me.
First of all, it's Royal Wedding week. Still super psyched about it, even though people are starting to seriously make fun of me. I can't help it, I'm a sucker for a lavish wedding. Also, in case you missed last week's episode of The Middle, the mother, played by Patricia Heaton is also coo coo for the royal wedding and even said something that was almost a direct quote of what I said to Adam just a few days before. "She's arriving in a car and leaving in a carriage! It's like she's arriving a commoner and leaving a princess!!" Ok, maybe I do deserve to be made fun of! I may have gone totally batshit crazy. Anyway, what I'm trying to say in this rant is that this week I discovered that Kate Middleton has a sister named Pippa. PIPPA!! It's such a smarky name that I love it!! I want to change my middle name to Pippa. I want to bear a child and name it Pippa. I'm totally naming all 72 sea monkeys the kids got for Christmas that simply will NOT die, Pippa!! (all except for that dead one attached to one of the living ones. That guy is still named, Doug.) I love it.
I found out about Pippa from this article from Celebitchy. First let's just go ahead and put it out there because I know what you're thinking. Kate is definitely the hotter sister and that's probably why she landed the prince, (though you can't argue with the fact that Pippa has a pretty incredible set of legs) but from the article it sounds like Pippa is on a man hunt of her own. I like how it describes her and her friends as incestuous. It's actually how I think all celeb groups of friends are. Just keep screwing each other and only date from within your circle. There's gonna be a scandal sometime in the next two years and it's going to involve Pippa, a list of sexual partners and a trunk load of coke. You heard it here first.
This is a site I used to love to read all night long at work until such sites were blocked. It is Overheard In New York. From here you can also find Overheard In The Office, Overheard At The Beach and Overheard Everywhere. Some of the things you will find here will crack your shit up.
Texts From Last Night is another one of those blogs that you end up reading and then suddenly it's three hours later. There are so many of these that have made me think, oh god, I've been to that party. Or, "Yikes! I did that too...wonder if Jim remembers why I did that??" One of my favorite texts from the site is: "We convinced you to take a shot out of the sponge...there were still suds in it." I like to think the entire premise for the movie, The Hangover was based on this website. Classic.
To go along with Texts From Last Night is the After 12 link on Failblog. If you have a weak stomach for pictures of people puking, I probably wouldn't check this link out.
First of all, it's Royal Wedding week. Still super psyched about it, even though people are starting to seriously make fun of me. I can't help it, I'm a sucker for a lavish wedding. Also, in case you missed last week's episode of The Middle, the mother, played by Patricia Heaton is also coo coo for the royal wedding and even said something that was almost a direct quote of what I said to Adam just a few days before. "She's arriving in a car and leaving in a carriage! It's like she's arriving a commoner and leaving a princess!!" Ok, maybe I do deserve to be made fun of! I may have gone totally batshit crazy. Anyway, what I'm trying to say in this rant is that this week I discovered that Kate Middleton has a sister named Pippa. PIPPA!! It's such a smarky name that I love it!! I want to change my middle name to Pippa. I want to bear a child and name it Pippa. I'm totally naming all 72 sea monkeys the kids got for Christmas that simply will NOT die, Pippa!! (all except for that dead one attached to one of the living ones. That guy is still named, Doug.) I love it.
I found out about Pippa from this article from Celebitchy. First let's just go ahead and put it out there because I know what you're thinking. Kate is definitely the hotter sister and that's probably why she landed the prince, (though you can't argue with the fact that Pippa has a pretty incredible set of legs) but from the article it sounds like Pippa is on a man hunt of her own. I like how it describes her and her friends as incestuous. It's actually how I think all celeb groups of friends are. Just keep screwing each other and only date from within your circle. There's gonna be a scandal sometime in the next two years and it's going to involve Pippa, a list of sexual partners and a trunk load of coke. You heard it here first.
This is a site I used to love to read all night long at work until such sites were blocked. It is Overheard In New York. From here you can also find Overheard In The Office, Overheard At The Beach and Overheard Everywhere. Some of the things you will find here will crack your shit up.
Texts From Last Night is another one of those blogs that you end up reading and then suddenly it's three hours later. There are so many of these that have made me think, oh god, I've been to that party. Or, "Yikes! I did that too...wonder if Jim remembers why I did that??" One of my favorite texts from the site is: "We convinced you to take a shot out of the sponge...there were still suds in it." I like to think the entire premise for the movie, The Hangover was based on this website. Classic.
To go along with Texts From Last Night is the After 12 link on Failblog. If you have a weak stomach for pictures of people puking, I probably wouldn't check this link out.
Monday, April 18, 2011
Conversations with a redneck
About 37 times a day I have the most bizzarre conversations with Adam. They started very early in our relationship. At one point I started writing them down but then quit about the time we got engaged because I feared if I ever looked back on what I had written down, and saw the crazy things that come out of his mouth, the whole marriage thing would end up being a deal breaker. Totally kidding, Adam!!!! (I'm totally not kidding).
Anyway, I came across one that I had actually documented from a few months ago and thought I would share.
Me: I want an electric blanket for Christmas.
Adam: No! They're dangerous. Don't you remember 'The Burning Bed'?
Me: That had nothing to do with an electric blanket and everything to do with the fact that she POURED GASOLINE ON HIM IN HIS SLEEP AND SET HIM ON FIRE.
Adam: Is that what it was about? I never saw it.
Me: OMG. Well if Michael Jackson wouldn't have died, you probably would have had MANY opportunities to see it on cable.
Adam: Why? Was Farrah Fawcett in it?
Me: .....
Anyway, I came across one that I had actually documented from a few months ago and thought I would share.
Me: I want an electric blanket for Christmas.
Adam: No! They're dangerous. Don't you remember 'The Burning Bed'?
Me: That had nothing to do with an electric blanket and everything to do with the fact that she POURED GASOLINE ON HIM IN HIS SLEEP AND SET HIM ON FIRE.
Adam: Is that what it was about? I never saw it.
Me: OMG. Well if Michael Jackson wouldn't have died, you probably would have had MANY opportunities to see it on cable.
Adam: Why? Was Farrah Fawcett in it?
Me: .....
yeah...there's still no title here....
I was a bit too hungover and a bit too busy to do my usual Saturday blog about places to check out on the Internet. I apologize for that, however I am making it up to you now.
For this post of random things you can find on the Internet, I have decided to share with you some blogs that I enjoy reading. Some I have read for years, others are new.
The first blog is Dear Audrey. It is written by Julia Cho who's husband died suddenly at the age of 33 last July. She started it just a couple weeks later in order to help her through her grief and pain and as a way for their daughter to be able to look back and see her mother's memories. There is something about her feelings and grief that is familiar to me. I relate to it because of my own grief when my mom died, although her pain, I am sure is far deeper and more unimaginable, as it should be. She is a gifted writer.
The next two are pretty popular blogs that you may already be reading or have at least heard of. The first is Dooce. Heather Armstrong's writing style is one I would love to be able to duplicate. She rarely has a post that doesn't make me burst out a loud, "HA!" I keep meaning to pick up one or both of her books, but I never think about it when I'm out shopping and never think to ask for them as gifts. Whenever I'm asked what famous person I would like to have dinner with, either living or dead, I usually answer Robert Downey Jr., but adding Heather Armstrong to that invite list, would be AWESOME. Someone make that happen for me.
The second popular blog is one I haven't been reading too much in the last several months but it is a great one. It is Matt, Liz & Madeline. If you do not know Matt Logelin's story, it is a blog that Matt started to document he and Liz's "adventures" for family mostly who lived out of state while he and his wife were expecting their first child. Liz ended up on bed rest in the hospital for several weeks. An emergency c-section was performed on March 24, 2008. Because of complications Liz was kept from their new baby, Madeline and wasn't able to hold her. Twelve hours later on March 25th when she was finally able to get out of bed and see her new little girl Liz stood, looked in the mirror to fix her hair and was struck with a blood clot that travelled to her lungs and she quickly passed away. Matt kept his blog going and writes about his struggles as a single-father, widow and man just trying to raise his little girl as he and his wife would have. His blog has blown up around the world and Matt has found himself on Rachel Ray, Oprah and probably other shows I just can't think of. He has written a book called Two Kisses for Maddie and has started a foundation in his wife's name. Remarkable man.
If you are a child of the 80's then you have to check out this blog but do it only if you have at least an hour to spend on it. It is x-entertainment.com. This website is everything you want to see to remind you of the 80's. It's the commercials you watched during Saturday morning cartoons. Remember, "Honeycomb's big. Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! It's not small. No! No! No!" Or commercials for Smurf pasta, Rolo, Chef Boyaree Hamburger Italiano, Cricket the talking doll, the old Krazy Glue commercials, that annoying Encyclopedia Brittanica kid, Speak n' Spell, the Twizzlers commercials with that red mouth, and Play-Doh Fun Factory. All of those commercials are there as well as pictures and posts about old McDonalds toys, their tray liners, discontinued sodas, Macy's Thanksgiving Day parades, ANYTHING. This site is addictive, promise.
For this post of random things you can find on the Internet, I have decided to share with you some blogs that I enjoy reading. Some I have read for years, others are new.
The first blog is Dear Audrey. It is written by Julia Cho who's husband died suddenly at the age of 33 last July. She started it just a couple weeks later in order to help her through her grief and pain and as a way for their daughter to be able to look back and see her mother's memories. There is something about her feelings and grief that is familiar to me. I relate to it because of my own grief when my mom died, although her pain, I am sure is far deeper and more unimaginable, as it should be. She is a gifted writer.
The next two are pretty popular blogs that you may already be reading or have at least heard of. The first is Dooce. Heather Armstrong's writing style is one I would love to be able to duplicate. She rarely has a post that doesn't make me burst out a loud, "HA!" I keep meaning to pick up one or both of her books, but I never think about it when I'm out shopping and never think to ask for them as gifts. Whenever I'm asked what famous person I would like to have dinner with, either living or dead, I usually answer Robert Downey Jr., but adding Heather Armstrong to that invite list, would be AWESOME. Someone make that happen for me.
The second popular blog is one I haven't been reading too much in the last several months but it is a great one. It is Matt, Liz & Madeline. If you do not know Matt Logelin's story, it is a blog that Matt started to document he and Liz's "adventures" for family mostly who lived out of state while he and his wife were expecting their first child. Liz ended up on bed rest in the hospital for several weeks. An emergency c-section was performed on March 24, 2008. Because of complications Liz was kept from their new baby, Madeline and wasn't able to hold her. Twelve hours later on March 25th when she was finally able to get out of bed and see her new little girl Liz stood, looked in the mirror to fix her hair and was struck with a blood clot that travelled to her lungs and she quickly passed away. Matt kept his blog going and writes about his struggles as a single-father, widow and man just trying to raise his little girl as he and his wife would have. His blog has blown up around the world and Matt has found himself on Rachel Ray, Oprah and probably other shows I just can't think of. He has written a book called Two Kisses for Maddie and has started a foundation in his wife's name. Remarkable man.
If you are a child of the 80's then you have to check out this blog but do it only if you have at least an hour to spend on it. It is x-entertainment.com. This website is everything you want to see to remind you of the 80's. It's the commercials you watched during Saturday morning cartoons. Remember, "Honeycomb's big. Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! It's not small. No! No! No!" Or commercials for Smurf pasta, Rolo, Chef Boyaree Hamburger Italiano, Cricket the talking doll, the old Krazy Glue commercials, that annoying Encyclopedia Brittanica kid, Speak n' Spell, the Twizzlers commercials with that red mouth, and Play-Doh Fun Factory. All of those commercials are there as well as pictures and posts about old McDonalds toys, their tray liners, discontinued sodas, Macy's Thanksgiving Day parades, ANYTHING. This site is addictive, promise.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
*Insert clever, snarky title here
I've decided I want to write a blog post every Saturday and share with you some of the outrageous things you can check out on these here Internets. I want to call it something cool like "The Saturday Morning Funnies" or "The Shits" but I don't really like either of those names so we'll leave it un-named for now. If you can think of something clever, send it to me so I can steal it and call it my own. Kinda like what the Cookies BBQ Sauce Guy did to my dad. (So says dad. It's a cray story I'll save for another time)
So, I'm super pumped for the Royal Wedding coming up at the end of the month (true story). There's a lot of merchandise being sold with Willy & Kate's likeness. (it's ok, they TOTALLY let me call them that) FYI, I wouldn't be disappointed if the Easter Bunny left me one of these in my basket. OMG! I could totally store it next to my purple Princess Di Beanie Baby. Adam wrapped mine in saran wrap to protect it from...well I'm not really sure what he was thinking but it's been suffocating in there since about 2002.
If you haven't seen the Funny or Die video with Billy Crystal and Helen Mirren doing When Harry Met Sally 2. Do it! Added bonus, it's HELEN MIRREN for Christ's sake! She's like the hottest 66 year-old you'll ever know.
In case you didn't already know, I collect vintage Coca-Cola memorabilia. I have a pretty vast collection which for the most part is stored away because I simply don't have the room to display it. Karl Lagerfeld designed Diet Coke bottles, however?? Yes, ma'am! Gotta have 'em!
Man Cannot Remove His Tiny Hat. How this guy isn't one of my friends, I have no idea.
I just wanna go ahead and put this out there. Despite the fact that winter in our area seems to be over with, (FINALLY!) if at any time someone feels the need to physically remove snow from my yard, I won't be upset. Really.
So, I'm super pumped for the Royal Wedding coming up at the end of the month (true story). There's a lot of merchandise being sold with Willy & Kate's likeness. (it's ok, they TOTALLY let me call them that) FYI, I wouldn't be disappointed if the Easter Bunny left me one of these in my basket. OMG! I could totally store it next to my purple Princess Di Beanie Baby. Adam wrapped mine in saran wrap to protect it from...well I'm not really sure what he was thinking but it's been suffocating in there since about 2002.
If you haven't seen the Funny or Die video with Billy Crystal and Helen Mirren doing When Harry Met Sally 2. Do it! Added bonus, it's HELEN MIRREN for Christ's sake! She's like the hottest 66 year-old you'll ever know.
In case you didn't already know, I collect vintage Coca-Cola memorabilia. I have a pretty vast collection which for the most part is stored away because I simply don't have the room to display it. Karl Lagerfeld designed Diet Coke bottles, however?? Yes, ma'am! Gotta have 'em!
Man Cannot Remove His Tiny Hat. How this guy isn't one of my friends, I have no idea.
I just wanna go ahead and put this out there. Despite the fact that winter in our area seems to be over with, (FINALLY!) if at any time someone feels the need to physically remove snow from my yard, I won't be upset. Really.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Memories of my mom
Twelve years ago today my mom passed away. I think about her all the time. She had wanted to be a grandma so badly and it’s so sad that she never got to see her grandkids. Whenever one of the kids does something funny, or naughty or unbelievable I think, OMG. If mom were still alive she would be cracking up right now. Or the times when Blake does something naughty (you know, like all the time) I can just hear her saying, “Oh no! He wouldn’t do that!! Not my little buddy! He’s such a sweetheart!” Don't get me wrong, there would have been times she would have called him a “little shit” because that’s just how she was. She cussed like a sailor and I loved it. She got a lot of slack for it from some of her brothers. They would tell her she shouldn’t cuss so much but that’s just how she was.
Sometimes the kids channel her, I swear. When Emily was about three she was at my sister’s house helping to decorate the Christmas tree. The whole time she just wanted to put on the tinsel, asking, “Is it time now?” Now is it time?” Finally when it was all said and done and the tinsel was on and the tree was lit up, Emily stood back and said, “God damn, that’s pretty!!”
Every time Adam gets a new tattoo, talks about a new tattoo, or starts stretching the holes in his ears I hear mom saying, “Oh god damn. Don’t do that! That makes my teeth itch just thinking about it.” She would hate it if you touched your pierced ears--gave her the creeps. “If God wanted me to have holes in my ears he would have given them to me at birth!”
When I told my friends I was dating Adam they would say, “Adam?? That guy with all the piercings.” When I brought him home to meet the family I had to call my sister to have her warn mom. I didn’t want her sitting there staring at him.
“Uuhhh…I just wanted to warn you guys…Adam has a few…piercings.”
“Ok.”
“Like not in his ears.”
“Um. Ok.”
“His eyebrow is pierced.”
“Yeah…”
"His tongue."
"Uh-huh."
"His tongue."
"Uh-huh."
“And his lip.”
“K…”
“Twice.”
“I better warn mom.”
I was expecting a phone call or two about Adam after that first meeting. To my amazement Mom loved him. In fact she never even looked at him weird at all. I was shocked. A few months later when I got a job offer an hour away from home I called my mom with the news I was moving. “But what will you do with poor little Adam?” was all she was concerned about. “Well I’m taking him with me.” I said. “Good.”
Two days before she passed away was Easter. She was in the hospital at OSF St. Francis in Peoria and Adam, my sister and I drove up to see her. Adam was having issues with his sinuses and had us stop on the way out of town to pick up some sinus meds. It wasn’t until we were almost all the way to the hospital that Adam confessed he had taken four pills, instead of the recommended two. We weren’t in the room for very long before he PASSED. OUT. I was sorta mad at him. I kicked him in the leg and told him to wake up. My mom said, “Leave him alone! He’s tired! Let him sleep!”
“He’s only sleeping cuz he took twice as many sinus pills as he was supposed to!”
“Well he must have really been feeling bad then to take that many. Let him sleep.”
She totally defended him.
Once he woke up my mom put him to work.
“Hey hon? Would you come over here and scratch my back? God, it itches so bad!”
“Hey hon? Would you come over here and scratch my back? God, it itches so bad!”
Adam sat there for a half hour scratching her back and never complained. He must have known she stuck up for him when he was passed out for two hours. Lol
Whenever I think of my mom I usually think of that last day we saw her, but there are also so many other memories I have. Usually they involve her doing or saying something crazy. One time back in high school my best friend came over to help us clean out the attic. I think she got paid with my mom’s lasagna. Anyway, once you were up there you would have to walk side step next to the hole where the stairs come down to get over to where my mom was cleaning and organizing. When you did this you also had to walk hunched over with your head facing down to the downstairs because of the slope in the roof. There goes my mom in front of us and she says, “Oh I hate this! It makes my twat quiver!”
We have a pretty big extended family. My mom had eight brothers and sisters so that made for a lot of nieces and nephews for her and a shit ton of cousins for me. I think most all of them have some sort of Aunt Norlene story. All of them probably involve a card game or something raunchy, yet hilarious that came out of her mouth. Mostly likely both at the same time. Our family is big into playing cards, usually for cash, so whenever there is a get-together it always ends with a game or five of something. My mom was hilarious to listen to when we would play cards. She'd whisper curse words at you whenever you'd throw her a rotten card, or pick up a card she wanted or needed, or if you'd win the hand, or if she plain old thought you sucked.
"Oh, well goddamn, thank you for the two! You're just too, too kind."
"You sonofabitch! I knew you'd pick up that card."
"Well shit, that's not gonna work."
"What the fuck did you play that for?"
"Well my hand has gone to shit."
"I might as well shove these fucking cards up my ass. They'd do me about as much good."
She'd play dirty too if she had to. A little cheat here and there she never thought anything of it.
My mom used to do crafts and then travel to craft shows with a small group of her friends that also did crafts. Mostly near the Chicago area. Almost every night she would stay up really late painting ceramic Christmas villages or haunted houses, or whatever and watch movies. Usually the same movies over and over. Rain Man, Steel Magnolias, and the made for TV movie, Elvis and Me were some of her favorites. We lived with my grandma, my mom's mom.
I was a teenager so whenever I was home I was usually in my room with the door shut. Not so much to avoid my mom but mostly to avoid my grandma. Teens and grandmas don't really mix well. At least not me and mine. Once my grandma would go to bed I would come out of my hiding place and sit out in the living room, and hang out with mom while she did her crafts. She would be watching tv, or a movie and usually I would read whatever V.C. Andrews book I was into at the time. Once I got my driver's license mom would say, "Hey Amy, wanna make a run for the border?" Then she'd hand over the keys to the car and some money and I'd go to Taco Bell. Those nights just sitting there reading a book and chatting about whatever with my mom I think are the moments I miss the most.
I've only been to my mom's grave once since she passed away and that was on the day I got married. My sister insisted on going to put a bunch of daffodil's on her grave. They were her favorite flower and I had them in all of my bouquets. I just can't go there. It's not where my mom is. My mom is in my heart and in the million different memories I have of her. I think she'd understand.
Monday, April 4, 2011
Another Old Blog Post
This is a copy of a blog I posted on February 14, 2009. We ended up with a surplus of Valentine's so we took the kids to a local nursing home and passed them out to the residents. What follows is what happend on that trip.
We're Having Her Over For Pot Roast and Shots of SoCo Next Friday Night.
Our trip to the nursing home went rather smoothly. The entrance to the facility opened to a common room where there were about 10 or so residents. The kids somewhat shyly started passing out valentines and chocolate hearts. One of the first residents to greet us was a woman we soon found out was named Shirley. Shirley had the voice of James Earl Jones but seemed innocent enough. She came over and knelt down in front of Blake and started talking to him and praised us about how well behaved "the children" were.
"Just wait." I thought. "We've only been here 87 seconds." The kids kept passing out valentines and candy to those in the common room and Shirley followed behind talking the whole time about how much she loves "the children." Emily gave a valentine to a woman who looked to be one of the youngest in the place who was sitting on a couch, holding a baby doll. I imagined her taking it everywhere and freaking out if people touched it but soon enough Shirley was holding it and the woman seemed happy to get rid of it for a while. Maybe it was colicky.
So, after we were done in the common area we decided to mosey on to the patient floors. Shirley, carrying the baby, decided to tag along. When we exited the common area we came into sort of the "hub" of the place. There were more couches and chairs, a large atrium full of birds and three hallways to choose from filled with patient rooms. There were a few residents hanging out in the hub, however most of them were sleeping. One man was wide awake and apparently looking for some company. He kept saying, "HI! Hello. Hi there!" As we passed him Shirley very bluntly told him she wasn't talking to him. "I'm with these children. They are very precious to me." Then she apologized to us for talking that way. "I just need to be with these children right now. I haven't seen them in a while. They used to come all the time." About halfway through the first hall a nurse tried to get Shirley to leave us alone. "I know these people." She said. Adam turned to the nurse and told her it was ok, she was fine and that she was escorting us around the place. Shirley seemed satisfied with that answer and then her praise was all over Adam. "He's wonderful. He's got a big heart. How nice."
"We'll see how big you think his heart is, Shirley when he holds YOU down and tries to lick you face like a dog, turns the channel every 5.7 seconds, forces you to watch Knight Rider or when he takes the last Mt. Dew in the house. He's not so wonderful then."
We popped in and out of rooms all the while Shirley was either commenting on the temperature of the hallway or the patient room, or she was praising the children and talking about all the wonderful times she's spent with them in the past.
"Oh. It's cold in here."
"It's nice and warm out here."
"I remember the last time he came here (referring to Blake) and he came in and we just started running all over and everyone said, 'Oh, there goes Aunt Shirley running again!"
"It's chilly out here. It was warm in that room."
She told one nurse she'd known us for years. "Oh Shirley." She said. "You're always bringing your friends here." I guess we weren't the only long lost friends she's had come visit her.
When we were almost done, Shirley tried to give the baby to Emily. "Oh she doesn't need it. She has a lot of them." Adam told her. Good thing too. I don't need no colicky baby in the house.
When we were all done and as we started to walk out the door, some alarms started going off. In the third person Shirley said, "Oh, those go off all the time when Shirley's out here." Adam tracked down a nurse assuming we were supposed to enter some code on the keypad next to the door before we opened it.
"No. It's because of her." pointing to Shirley. She wears an alarm so we know if she's trying to go outside." Then she tried getting Shirley to go back inside. "I need to stay with the children. I'm with that little boy. He is so precious to me. My heart just went out to the children."
Happy Valentines day, Shirley.
We're Having Her Over For Pot Roast and Shots of SoCo Next Friday Night.
Our trip to the nursing home went rather smoothly. The entrance to the facility opened to a common room where there were about 10 or so residents. The kids somewhat shyly started passing out valentines and chocolate hearts. One of the first residents to greet us was a woman we soon found out was named Shirley. Shirley had the voice of James Earl Jones but seemed innocent enough. She came over and knelt down in front of Blake and started talking to him and praised us about how well behaved "the children" were.
"Just wait." I thought. "We've only been here 87 seconds." The kids kept passing out valentines and candy to those in the common room and Shirley followed behind talking the whole time about how much she loves "the children." Emily gave a valentine to a woman who looked to be one of the youngest in the place who was sitting on a couch, holding a baby doll. I imagined her taking it everywhere and freaking out if people touched it but soon enough Shirley was holding it and the woman seemed happy to get rid of it for a while. Maybe it was colicky.
So, after we were done in the common area we decided to mosey on to the patient floors. Shirley, carrying the baby, decided to tag along. When we exited the common area we came into sort of the "hub" of the place. There were more couches and chairs, a large atrium full of birds and three hallways to choose from filled with patient rooms. There were a few residents hanging out in the hub, however most of them were sleeping. One man was wide awake and apparently looking for some company. He kept saying, "HI! Hello. Hi there!" As we passed him Shirley very bluntly told him she wasn't talking to him. "I'm with these children. They are very precious to me." Then she apologized to us for talking that way. "I just need to be with these children right now. I haven't seen them in a while. They used to come all the time." About halfway through the first hall a nurse tried to get Shirley to leave us alone. "I know these people." She said. Adam turned to the nurse and told her it was ok, she was fine and that she was escorting us around the place. Shirley seemed satisfied with that answer and then her praise was all over Adam. "He's wonderful. He's got a big heart. How nice."
"We'll see how big you think his heart is, Shirley when he holds YOU down and tries to lick you face like a dog, turns the channel every 5.7 seconds, forces you to watch Knight Rider or when he takes the last Mt. Dew in the house. He's not so wonderful then."
We popped in and out of rooms all the while Shirley was either commenting on the temperature of the hallway or the patient room, or she was praising the children and talking about all the wonderful times she's spent with them in the past.
"Oh. It's cold in here."
"It's nice and warm out here."
"I remember the last time he came here (referring to Blake) and he came in and we just started running all over and everyone said, 'Oh, there goes Aunt Shirley running again!"
"It's chilly out here. It was warm in that room."
She told one nurse she'd known us for years. "Oh Shirley." She said. "You're always bringing your friends here." I guess we weren't the only long lost friends she's had come visit her.
When we were almost done, Shirley tried to give the baby to Emily. "Oh she doesn't need it. She has a lot of them." Adam told her. Good thing too. I don't need no colicky baby in the house.
When we were all done and as we started to walk out the door, some alarms started going off. In the third person Shirley said, "Oh, those go off all the time when Shirley's out here." Adam tracked down a nurse assuming we were supposed to enter some code on the keypad next to the door before we opened it.
"No. It's because of her." pointing to Shirley. She wears an alarm so we know if she's trying to go outside." Then she tried getting Shirley to go back inside. "I need to stay with the children. I'm with that little boy. He is so precious to me. My heart just went out to the children."
Happy Valentines day, Shirley.
Please keep your hands inside the ride at all times.
So, Tuesday afternoon I got a call from my sister that my dad had fallen down the escalator at JC Penney. He was almost at the top when he went to step off, lost his balance and fell backwards about 10 steps. He wasn't able to get to his feet quickly (who would, really) and the fun part about an escalator is that it continues to climb so he would tumble a couple step every time he reached the top. Finally someone got them stopped and a few employees were able to grab him and keep him from going backwards again.
The fire department was called and they were SOOOO HELPFUL! By SOOOO HELPFUL I mean they sucked ass. Basically they got my dad up on his feet and helped him get upstairs to finish his shopping. Yep, you read that right. They didn't check him over, didn't ask about any medical conditions, nothing. On Thursday my sister called them and asked them why this wasn't done. Their reasons were that 99% of the people who need help aren't wearing a medic alert and also that they aren't going to go digging in the shirt of someone who is conscious to see if they have a medic alert necklace. My sister said they should have at least asked if he had any medical conditions or medications he was taking. Of all people I would think the fire department and medics understand that when an incident happens, the victims are often times confused, embarrassed, shaken, etc. We're pretty sure if our dad had been asked about medications he would have thought about his blood thinner and how dangerous even a small bruise can be.
So, after my dad was so easily dismissed he drove himself to my sister's work, however she wasn't there, she was at a doctor's appointment. Her assistant was able to reach her cell phone and she met Dad at his apartment.
It had only been a couple hours since he had falling but by the time she saw him he was covered in huge black bruises. She took him to the ER where he checked out fine but they wanted to keep him overnight for observation.
The next day they were concerned about his bruises spreading so they marked around them and kept him another night. Thursday they had spread again by the afternoon and so they've given him a blood transfusion and kept him again last night. He was finally able to go home on Friday.
My sister and I have always compared our dad to Archie Bunker. While he is a pretty sweet guy he is also very opinionated when it comes to anyone of another gender, race or non-union. The relationship between my husband and him has increased 3000% since we got married but the first several years it was very much a Meathead/Archie type arrangement. Pretty sure my dad thought Adam was just some big dummy who married his little girl. But now that Adam works in construction for a company owned by one of my dad's oldest friends, even though they're non-union (the horror!) he has a new-found respect for him.
As an example, one late night I was watching All In The Family with my sister. I was actually in the hospital having just given birth to Emily and it was just Lisa and I. Archie was telling Meathead that his Lodge does not let in any Blacks but they do have a midget. Meathead told him that was prejudice and Archie said it wasn't--they put a step stool in front of the urinal so the midget has just as much chance of making it in there as everyone else. My sister and I were ROLLING! It was exactly something my dad would say. The next day we asked Dad, "Hey, do you have any blacks in your union?" Dad said, "No. Hell no!" (pretty sure that's incorrect, but might have been true the last time my dad went to a union meeting back in the 80's). "Well, do you have any midgets?"
"Yeah, sure we do!"
"Do you put a step-stool in front of the urinals for him?" (snicker)
"What? Hell, I don't know."
"You should. It's what Archie would do."
The fire department was called and they were SOOOO HELPFUL! By SOOOO HELPFUL I mean they sucked ass. Basically they got my dad up on his feet and helped him get upstairs to finish his shopping. Yep, you read that right. They didn't check him over, didn't ask about any medical conditions, nothing. On Thursday my sister called them and asked them why this wasn't done. Their reasons were that 99% of the people who need help aren't wearing a medic alert and also that they aren't going to go digging in the shirt of someone who is conscious to see if they have a medic alert necklace. My sister said they should have at least asked if he had any medical conditions or medications he was taking. Of all people I would think the fire department and medics understand that when an incident happens, the victims are often times confused, embarrassed, shaken, etc. We're pretty sure if our dad had been asked about medications he would have thought about his blood thinner and how dangerous even a small bruise can be.
So, after my dad was so easily dismissed he drove himself to my sister's work, however she wasn't there, she was at a doctor's appointment. Her assistant was able to reach her cell phone and she met Dad at his apartment.
It had only been a couple hours since he had falling but by the time she saw him he was covered in huge black bruises. She took him to the ER where he checked out fine but they wanted to keep him overnight for observation.
The next day they were concerned about his bruises spreading so they marked around them and kept him another night. Thursday they had spread again by the afternoon and so they've given him a blood transfusion and kept him again last night. He was finally able to go home on Friday.
My sister and I have always compared our dad to Archie Bunker. While he is a pretty sweet guy he is also very opinionated when it comes to anyone of another gender, race or non-union. The relationship between my husband and him has increased 3000% since we got married but the first several years it was very much a Meathead/Archie type arrangement. Pretty sure my dad thought Adam was just some big dummy who married his little girl. But now that Adam works in construction for a company owned by one of my dad's oldest friends, even though they're non-union (the horror!) he has a new-found respect for him.
As an example, one late night I was watching All In The Family with my sister. I was actually in the hospital having just given birth to Emily and it was just Lisa and I. Archie was telling Meathead that his Lodge does not let in any Blacks but they do have a midget. Meathead told him that was prejudice and Archie said it wasn't--they put a step stool in front of the urinal so the midget has just as much chance of making it in there as everyone else. My sister and I were ROLLING! It was exactly something my dad would say. The next day we asked Dad, "Hey, do you have any blacks in your union?" Dad said, "No. Hell no!" (pretty sure that's incorrect, but might have been true the last time my dad went to a union meeting back in the 80's). "Well, do you have any midgets?"
"Yeah, sure we do!"
"Do you put a step-stool in front of the urinals for him?" (snicker)
"What? Hell, I don't know."
"You should. It's what Archie would do."
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