My dear Cali friend nominated me for this "Honest Scrap" award. According to De Ann (or now, may I call you Tootie since you've finally proclaimed it to the world?) I must list 10 random facts about myself. Then another dear blog reader, Maureen, gave me the Fabulous Sugar Doll Blogger Award which coincidentally means I must list 10 random facts about myself. I'm very random, but I'm not very good about making lists like this, so I will let myself cheat and fulfill both obligations with one list. :)
1. My wardrobe has grown increasingly brown and black. It was a recent discovery, and yes, it's random. I still have a complete rainbow in my closet just because of my insane amassment of clothing in there, but I keep going for the brown or the black every time I go shopping, every day when I get dressed. And this is not a new randomosity - I'd say the past year, maybe? And plus, it makes just-the-right earrings and no-one-but-Amanda-would-wear-that necklaces way more fabulous.
2. I'm glued to my pink Coach datebook. I live by that thing. It may or may not be in my iPhone, but it will always be in the datebook. If someone were to take it, I'd feel lost and probably go into a panic attack. Knowing my recent luck, that said panic attack would probably end me in the psych ward. Not even kidding.
3. My dog is my human daughter and if I had more time, I'd have a few more. My goal is eventually to graduate to human procreation, but at the moment, nannying is enough kids for my life.
4. If I find a cute top or pair of jeans that fit just right or adorable, must-have shoes, I will buy it in all the colors I can fit into my wardwrobe. It's pathetic, really. I feel like Doug -remember that Nickelodeon cartoon where the kid wore the same outfit every. single. day. Ha! Case in point: Old Navy fold-over yoga pants (2 pairs black, 1 pair black capri), cute heel boots (black and brown), favorite Coach bag (black and brown), my favorite t-shirts (I'd say about 5 different tops with 2 to 4 colors of each)
5. I love my Pandora bracelet. I didn't even know what they were until a few months ago, and then it was what I wanted most for Christmas. Well, I got one, and have two spacers and the following beads: a heart from Jonathan, a dangle cross from my sister, a pink stone from Grandma, and my Nana's birthstone (and mine - we're both born in August) that I bought with the money Poppop gave me for Christmas (in her memory of course) There's so many more charms I'd love to add, but what's so special if there is no story behind each charm? Going to Jared and stocking my bracelet would be fun, but it would make the bracelet meaningless. Plus, I love how the beads slide all around now. It wouldn't do it if it was full! :)
6. I am, after 5 1/2 years, single again. It's surprising how fast I've reverted back to my ways of not shaving my legs, doing whatever I want to do whenever I want to do it, and drooling over any man-candy I may encounter. I'm unabashedly single and hoping I'll soon love it as much as I used to.... before things got so complicated and I fell head-over-heels in love. I'm a single adult for the first time in my life, and I find it liberating sometimes. There's a few things I want to do before I settle down again, and I think that's awesome.
7. I love giving stuff away or even selling stuff. I find some hidden joy in finding someone on Freecycle or Craigslist or eBay who really want my used whatevers. I give all my old accessories to my friends and cousin, too. I'm doing some massive cleaning out lately, and I have been doing all of the above plus filling a huge box for our church yard sale which is like 6 months away. Purging feels so good. I don't know how people can hoard stuff unless of course, they're simply too busy to clean it out. That would be a problem.
8. I had to hit rock bottom and lose all but my very life before I realized how much God loved me and keeps His hand on my life... despite myself. Despite ourselves, He is watching over us.
9. I love to buy cards and gifts for people. I love wrapping presents and curling the ribbon. I love tying on pretty tags and finding just the right card. :)
10. I always bite off more than I can chew. Any project I seem interested in, I dive right in, give 200%, and usually find out I'm too busy for it after all or just get bored with it. I take "live life with passion" a little too literally. I also think I can do anything until I realize I can't. Now, I can do many things, and I believe anyone can do anything they set their mind to, but that's completely not the point on this one. Case in point? If you'll hem my pants, why do I need to waste all that frustration of trying to do it myself? For less than an hour's work pay, I can get my car washed at the gas station with the extra nice soap and special clean whatever? I will not wash my own car, waste 2 precious hours, get soaking wet, and earn myself an evening on the heating pad with a muscle relaxer. How about food? If my mom is home, she can make whatever I want better and faster, and everyone has curb-side take out now, so learning to cook? Nah, no point. And along the same lines, I really do think I have more hobbies, or attempted hobbies, than any sane person should have... and probably less time for hobbies than most people have.
My duty, again according to Tootie, in accepting this honest scrap award is that I must award it to seven other blogs. Maureen passed it onto three. So I have no idea. I'm going to now cheat a second time in one post and say this: If you want, just post it on your blog and link back. How's that? Twitter friends, blog reader friends, whoever you are... I think you all rock. And if you're extra busy like me, just go on with your life. But I have fulfilled my honors and obligations and will now go do my Nursing Research homework and think about who I can bribe to paint my bathroom brown. All before a 2 year old and 5 month old wake up from their naps.
Today I woke up exhausted, not liking the gloom out my window, not looking forward to eliminating my Ex's existence on my legal documents, and not looking forward to visiting my hepatologist - an hour away - late in the afternoon.
So first up... in to see my attorney to get all of my power of attorneys, durable healthcare power of attorneys, living will, etc. revised. Mr. Attorney said it wasn't smart to put my fiance in such important legal documents, but I told him we weren't like other couples, and it would be fine. Today I bit my words as we took his names off of all of my legal documents - as if he doesn't exist - on my most important papers anymore. I signed, signed, and signed, and he notarized, notarized, notarized. Off we went with new documents, reflecting my new life. Off we went to Cleveland... ugh.
My mom and I listened to a really uplifting CD on the way there, and I love spending time with my mom. But the drive is so long. The visits aren't the worst of it; it's just draining by the time you do the driving, parking, waiting, signing in, etc. But onto to the visit - Of course I saw Dr. Hupertz's resident first, and this resident rubbed me the wrong way. That's what started it. Then I saw my doctor. All in all = lots of tests and procedures to be scheduled. My I'm-fine-hey-no-liver-problems-here break is officially over. It seems I get a hiatus every Aug/September through April or May since she tries to follow the school schedule, but it's approaching March... April... May... June, and there's lots of info she wants on me... well, here it comes again. How's the scans looking? How are the cysts on my kidneys looking? How big are the varices? Is the bloodflow blocked even more? Is the MELD high enough to warrant a transplant yet? She has questions, and I don't want to give her the time to get the answers. I don't want the answers in all actuality. I'm bored with all of this. I just want to be better. So anyways, back to today - then we go to schedule all these procedures. I always see the same scheduler who I love, but hey look, they decided to hire a new one who knows absolutely nothing. I absolutely loathe arguing, and that's all we were doing, so I had to have my mom come in and talk to this woman because things were seriously getting that heated. She couldn't care one bit about any word I had to say, and it was her way or no way, and she was all WRONG. So we finally got me scheduled, I went downstairs and gave them their vials of blood, and then my mom and I went to the car in the rain, and I slept the entire way home.
I get home, go to bed, exhausted and hoping I can sleep. Of course not. So I take some meds. Then I'm not sure if it was he or I, but texting with the Ex began. Things got violent and some very hurtful things were said, some opportunities to simply show love were ignored, and I ended up on my dad's bed crying while he watched TV. I asked him if this was a normal way for a guy to handle something like this. That's how the conversation began. He turned off the TV and we talked and talked and talked, onto and past about 200 different topics, each about said guy and his actions and what has happened and where it hurts. Then Dad stands up... what is he doing? Getting something out of the bathroom... oh... a tissue. For me. Dad got me a tissue. So by the time said tissue is in my hand, I was bawling, so he just stood there, arms open wide, until I came into them and sobbed. He told me he was hurting so badly for me and he knows how I've been wronged, how the approach to this breakup was entirely poorly-mannered and months of damage had already occurred.... long story. But he told me how this has been so hard for him to see me go through this, and he loved me, and there was a greater plan. So I sobbed, and he cried, and I sobbed... into my daddy's strong arms. His arms meant he knew, he cared, he understood, and everything would be okay. Hurt and violated, yes, but he agreed with me in my gratitude for the grace of God intervening 3 weeks ago. It's amazing, it is.
Then I texted my sister to see a movie at 10 with me. I ached to see Dear John again... to see someone else hurting like me. But, Nik has to go to bed for early class. I text my cousin. I text my bestie. I remember that Jen, bless her heart, had just gotten out of work, and here she tells me me she'll be on her way just as soon as she stops home for clothes. She's almost missing a work deadline on her new RN job and is exhausted out of her mind, but she's driving an hour from work to her house to get stuff to come 45 minutes to my house to spend the night and pray with me and let me cry and cry and cry.... and then wake up and make sure I'm just a little better in the morning. Now that's a best friend.
There are no headlines for everyday heroes there is no tickertape no standing ovation
sometimes it's all they can do to set their feet on the floor in the morning
they go through their days the best they know how
no rainbow need arch through the sky to inspire them they have a special courage shining deep inside
they go through their days the best they know how
Ted Hibbard
This came into my inbox today while I was at clinical.
Today, I could not wake up. My alarm went off, I took a shower, threw on my scrubs, ate a bowl of Cheerios in record time, and left for clinical. We were supposed to be on OB today and next Friday, but our instructor said since everyone has seen births, we had an option of not going to clinical next week and going to campus instead. It's December, and we're all dead. Guess which option we chose. So today was our last day in clinical for obstetrics. We're done. (Well, next Friday we have presentations, course evals, and an "educational" movie, but that doesn't count.)
I begged to go to OB Triage today simply because our instructor was confused and assigned other people to Labor & Delivery and I sure was not going to do Postpartum again. Plus, a lot of births were going on so I figured Triage would be a happening place (Any pregnant patient who comes to the hospital is sent up to OB Triage. They could have the flu, a broken bone, or be in labor - most of them know to come to OB Triage and the ones who go to the ER get sent up anyways.)
Not a single patient came in until probably about 11am. It was all insane from there. December 1st was a full moon, so don't ask why it all happened today, 3 days later, but it did.
We got a woman who had a stomach virus (and was vomiting so loudly that I almost wanted to do so myself) and we loaded her up with a cocktail of phenergan/benadryl/reglan. Then we had a woman who had a scheduled C-section (4th baby, 4th C-section!) who needed prepped. This was my favorite patient because I got to start her IV! Now, rumor has it that no one teaches us IV insertion in nursing school. Apparently it's the orientation responsibility of wherever we get a job. That always sounded stupid to me, and thankfully my instructor isn't into going by all of the program rules. (I love her for it though - she's smart about it, she just has a much more creative, free-spirited approach to nursing) Everyone knows though that one of the meds I'm on make my hands shake. As in a tremor kind of shake. I'm a steller phelebotomist (or I was in my nurse technician days) but sometimes it freaks patients and instructors out. So my instructor felt my hands to see if she wanted to "let" me try the IV. Not even kidding. Then she randomly puts her hand on my stomach and says, "Wow, your entire body tremors." Yeah, welcome to the misery. I told her I was comfortable doing it and thought I could, so after I told her what med I was on and she about attacked me to find out why the doctors make me take it (umm, because I'm allergic to every single aternative?) she finally agreed to let me attempt it. She asked me what I'd need to start an IV and draw some blood (I voted for the 22 gauge, but the RN said I had to do an 18 - scary!), we reviewed the exact steps the process entailed, and I beautifully gathered all of the supplies in a Chux and carried them into the patient's room. (Of course I know exactly what you need to start an IV - I've only had like 100 in my lifetime...)
Oh and let me just insert here that Jen (my bestie) taught me how to do an IV (at my kitchen table - just like the time she taught me how to draw blood!) but I completely blew her vein. She told me to try again, and I was too traumatized by creating a huge blood bruise to accept the offer. I had just asked her this morning to come over this weekend so we could practice again. Too late!
So the patient was African American and didn't have good veins at that. So not only were her veins harder to see, but they just were crooked, deep, or way too "wiggly." I put the tourniquet on and felt around. I finally found a hand vein that curved back and forth but it was the best she had. My instructor liked the site and told me to go for it. I inserted the needle, bevel up, and there was no flash. I was panicking when my instructor said, "Push it in just a little more." Flash!!! I pushed the button to retract the needle and threaded the catheter in. Blood started spurting everywhere (that's a good thing!) so I quickly connected the adaptor and popped a blood vial in. Full. 2nd vial. Full. I removed the adaptor and popped the IV tubing on. Beautiful. I got a warm rag to clean up the blood on her hand, and we covered it with a Tegaderm and taped the tubing securely. I had primed the Lactated Ringers so I opened the line and let it go. (I guess in Triage they just "eye" it and don't put it through a pump.) Drop. Drop. Drop. The LR were infusing perfectly in an IV that I had put in. It was working! Then later I piggybacked 2 bags of antibiotics, and they worked, too! (Why they wouldn't, I have no idea. But I was still on IV-high.) I had an issue with the 2nd bag, but the RN said sometimes it's just the position of their hand, and sure enough, we had the patient place her hand a different way, and the med started infusing. Good to know.
The day I performed my very first blood draw on a real patient (Jen doesn't count) I was teching and I called and texted pretty much everyone I knew (and Twittered!) and about died from excitement and pride and well, it was a little weird how excited I was. Well, that was nothing compared to the IV. The feeling of knowing I could successfully insert an IV made me feel almost like I'm a real nurse now - the IV is always the "big, scary" thing that everyone is petrified to do. Well, I've done it, and I did it well. So I can do it again. And it feels sooooo good! Major high. Other than things involving my fiance like our engagement, first kiss, picking out the ring, blah blah blah, oh and maybe getting accepted into the nursing program, or the birth of my furbaby puppy, it was probably one of the most exciting moments of my life. (And if you're not a nurse or nursing student, you probably don't get it - that's okay.)
Wow, I use a lot of parentheses. So many thoughts!
Anyways...
That was the highlight of my day, and I spent the rest of it helping check in new patients and then wasting time. Not kidding. The story...
We had this huge rush of new patients in Triage, all with what they called "contractions," one who said, "I'm not sure, but I think my water may be leaking. I don't know," and then a couple women who both said their due dates were tomorrow so they were sure they were in labor. Funny because most of the patients were in such early labor we couldn't even admit them. Anyways, I went in with the nurses and helped put on the fetal and contraction monitors, get their urine samples, answer questions, get their data... etc. After awhile, everyone was just chilling because that's what the Triage patients do - they sit there for a couple hours (unless they're obviously in active labor) so we can read a good amount of monitors to see what stage of labor (if any) the patient is in, and how the baby's heartrate is. I think it's more like a "we know you're not in labor, but we need to legally cover our butts" kind of thing. Not sure, but that's my theory because it's kind of monotonous. And yes, most of them end up being sent home. If you're contractions aren't under 5 minutes apart and completely regular, if you are in no obvious distress and have not had your water break, don't come to the hospital. The nurses and doctors don't mind, but you will be very, very bored and miserable waiting and watching and then being sent home.
So Triage got quiet really fast. Everyone just waiting to be sent home to walk around, have sex, do whatever they want to get their labor going faster. Then they'll probably be back tomorrow in active labor. It's crazy.
Our instructor said if we were bored, we could go study in the conference room. A lot of things happened in the morning and early afternoon, so there were a few of us who were bored out of our minds by 2:30/3. We went to the conference room and rested, talked, went to the cafeteria (yes, just because we were bored and hungry), came back, talked some more, and just waited for postconference. We were all completely absent from our brains by that time, one of us had a broken arm, another hurt her back when a patient attacked her this week at her tech job (seriously!), a few were hungover, I was in extreme fibromyalgia pain and had a migraine coming on, and of course we all knew it was the last day on the floor. We were slaphappy and exhausted, and our instructor looked like death (she has fibro too and was having a bad day), so we all agreed to leave a little early.
And now I am typing this as I babysit (which is insane seeing how much pain I am in from this day) and will momentarily take a nap until Mom and Dad come home. I'm with my nanny girls, and L Bug's grandma watched her today and let her talk her out of taking a nap. I literally had to drag L Bug into bed as she's screaming, "I'M (sob) NOT (sob) SLEEPY (sob sob)!!!!!" She's barely 2 so it was kind of cute, but also distressing at the same time. She's never that bad. All I could think was, "I feel like sobbing and yelling I AM SLEEPY!!!!"
This nursing thing - although amazing and fulfulling and perfect- is going to physically take every last bit of me. 3 more semesters + a summer externship. It seems impossible, but I don't know what else to do.
Oh and as a side note, Jen (my best friend, remember?) took her boards yesterday and PASSED! She's an RN! She was going to reschedule her test but failed to do so within 24 hours so either had to take it without studying at all or waste the money and pay to take it again. She told me she knew she'd fail, but she figured she'd already paid for it and it would be good practice, so she went. And passed. Without studying. That is so my best friend. She texted me this AM and said "I know you're in clinical but I need you to call me ASAP." I snuck into a hallway behind a door and called her. We were both almost crying. It was such a great moment. Then she called me tonight. She techs at a hospital and landed a job on her floor, which she loves. Apparently she talked to the nurse recruiter this afternoon, and she's having Jen start orientation on Monday. Tomorrow is her last day teching forever. She's an RN, and she starts making an insane amount of money Monday morning. She will be working on her favorite unit, loving every minute of it, and making the living she's worked so hard for. Snaps for Jen. I'm so proud of my amazing, crazy soul sister. 24 hours ago, she thought she was taking a practice NCLEX and she'd definitely fail it, and right now, she is an RN and starts work on Monday on her dream unit. Absolutely insane. God is pretty awesome. Oh, and she has a new boyfriend too. First "real" boyfriend ever. It's so sweet when life is so good.
Today, her day, almost makes me forget how far away from nursing I feel after remember what I realize at the end of each clinical day - my body cannot do this job for more than a couple hours. My heart can, just not my body. Everything starts aching and throbbing and crushing and burning. My energy dips steeply at about noon, and then I drag. I come home and load up on percocet, a muscle relaxer, a pain patch, sometimes a zofran... and I sleep for 2 solid days. Then during the week, I forget how hard it was and look forward to the next clinical. Then it nearly kills me, and it happens all over again. I think it hurts my soul more than it hurts my body.
One of these days, life will be okay. One of these days...
We all need to be held tight, reassured, and watched over. Life isn't easy, but we absolutely cannot be fatalities. That's why it's nice to be safe in someone's arms. Well, more than nice... more like imperative, essential. Everyone needs someone to hold their hand sometimes, and Often, someone to hold us for an hour or two as we cry. Praying for us and never judging. Go find that person and be safe in their arms. Or if you're doing okay, thank the Lord and Then go find someone and let them be safe in yours.
"Your baby blues So full of wonder Your curly que's Your contagious smile And as I watch You start to grow up All I can do is hold you tight Knowing
Clouds will rage in Storms will race in But you will be safe in my arms Rains will pour down Waves will crash all around But you will be safe in my arms
Story books Are full of fairy tales Of kings and queens And the bluest skies My heart is torn just in knowing You'll someday see The truth for lies
Clouds will rage in Storms will race in But you will be safe in my arms Rains will pour down Waves will crash all around But you will be safe in my arms
Castles they might crumble Dreams may not come true Cause you are never all alone Cause I will always Always love you
Clouds will rage in Storms will race in But you will be safe in my arms Rains will pour down Waves will crash all around But you will be safe in my arms
I've been so busy lately, but so much fun (and drama...) has been going on!
Nannying, as usual. Little M has stolen my heart - as I knew she would. The girl who would throw tantrums and scream at me now tells her mommy I'm her favorite babysitter ever. On Sunday I found out that I wasn't the only one sad about her going back to preschool in August. Mom told me she couldn't take me away from Little M and asked if I could keep her one afternoon/week. I think you know how the rest of the story goes. The list of kids who have stolen my heart is getting pretty long. Logical? Probably not. Predictable? Most definitely.
No new breaking medical news to report. Surprising, right? Just working on some big, tedious projects and lawsuits that involve record sifting and brain cramming and all kinds of fun like that. My insurance company owes me money, my car wreck has to be taken to court in less than 2 months (or otherwise it's too late to claim), my specialist and I are fighting my insurance company to appeal their denial of my transplant, and I have a few other similar things going on. Oh and there was yesterday. It started innocently enough... some lady on eBay decided she was going to go a little insane with the packing tape. Good packing isn't bad, I guess. BUT In my efforts to get through the tape and into the box with a big pair of scissors, I somehow managed to slice them into and across my left thumb. [Sidenote: Keep in the back of your mind that with my liver disease, I have an extremely low platelet (the stuff in blood that helps it clot) count, meaning when I bleed, it doesn't easily stop. Also because of the platelets, when I get a cut of any sort, it takes many weeks to heal. Because I have a very low amount of white blood cells, I'm at high risk for infection.] I hate to sound all exaggerating, but this cut was most literally just pumping out blood. Of course I applied pressure, and after a few minutes when it wasn't stopping, I called my mom. I was able to get a look at it through the blood, and it was a big half-oval kind of thing meaning there was a deeper gash underneath the flap of skin. I didn't get the impression it was going to stop without putting on a fight, but I didn't want to go to the ER over a tiny cut, so we called my primary care doctors office. They said they couldn't get me in for just over an hour. (Seriously.) They also said they didn't know if they did stitches there or not. (Seriously again.) So we called my insurance to see where we could go since they changed all the urgent care rules. After a disconnection and about a half dozen transfers, we finally reached a lady who gave us the name of an urgent care facility 10 minutes from my house. To make a long story short, we finally got the bleeding to stop (and with no extraordinary measures! yay!) and the doctor cleaned out my cut with betadine and then put Dermabond (a "Super Glue" for skin) all across the cut to seal it closed. He bandaged it up and I was good to go! I've never had real stitches in my life, and I'm thankful that there are so many stitches-alternatives for minor lacerations these days. Right now, my thumb is quietly throbbing a nice aching pain, but it's bandaged well, and I'm relieved I have Dermabond on it because my skin doesn't just heal on its own. Gotta love happy endings. :)
I've spent the last couple of weeks getting in touch with my great-uncle who has been hooking me up with all kinds of genealogy goodies, and last week, my grandma revealed her basement-full of albums that I'm scanning for her. I'm so excited about all of this since I've been meddling in genealogy since Nanna passed away. Plus I just love pictures! :) I must say... my dad was a pretty handsome looking young boy... (snicker snicker)
I'm SO missing my Nana. I think my mom is too because she's been talking about her constantly lately. Poppop comes over for dinner a few nights a week, and without fail, Nana comes up each night. Not that I mind - she has a beautiful legacy - but it still hurts so badly to even say her name. I especially hate when they talk about her last days on earth because I wasn't there. I had a flight all ready to go but my dad wouldn't pay for it thinking Nana would be gone before I got there. Well, Nana lived a few days after that and I never got down. If I had the money, I would have paid it anyways just for a chance to talk to her one more time. To see her face one more time. To touch the lines on her hands one more time. To tell her I loved her (and not on the phone), to tell her that her Mandy Mine was there with her.... one more time. Each day is getting harder, too, because her birthday is 5 days after mine... August 7th. My mom is wanting to make birthday plans for me, but every time I even think of my birthday, my mind instantly goes to Nana. When I see flowers, I think of her. When I go to Macy's and see an outfit she would have worn, I think of her, want to buy it, and then remember she's not here to wear it. Poppop was hoping her headstone would come in by her birthday, and I hope so too. We spent so much time making sure it was the perfect one for her, and as inappropriate as this sounds, I really am excited to see it. Nana deserves to be dignified in that cold ground with a lovely headstone on her birthday. It's really all we can give her, other than flowers. But trust me, there will be flowers. Lots of tear-stained flowers.
On a happier note, last Saturday I threw a graduation luau party for my bestie, Jen! I was trying to make it a surprise, but well, that didn't go over so well so I let her know at the last minute. It all worked out though and was so much fun. I am thrilled that she earned just enough gift money to cover her NCLEX fees! I was hesitant to throw her a party because of my health but all I could think of was how extra hard she worked for this degree, how huge an accomplishment this is for anyone, but moreso for her. She sacrificed everything to get to here, and she did it in 4 years and didn't give up once. I walked the journey with her and knew full well that she, of all people, needed to be honored. Plus, money was an issue with taking her NCLEX, and I wasn't about to let that happen. I figured if all of her friends gave a few bucks, she'd be well on her way to taking the licensure exam. And lastly, parties are just fun. Of course, the biggest reason here was honoring for her for her amazing drive and commitment and sacrifice though, so I talked with my mom and she agreed to help. She said we'd get catering and buy a cake, and my cousin Heather offered to help. A nurse at our church who knows Jen well offered to make food as well, and a few other friends pitched in. For the location, we were able to use (free of charge) the wonderful "clubhouse" at my Poppop's condo facility. Before long, we had a wonderful event coming together, and all of the pieces just fell into place. The party was a hit - everyone who came had fun, and I know for a fact that Jen was shocked and grateful and touched by what we were able to do for her. All of us are blessed to have amazing friends, and I love how we're always there for each other ... even when "being there" just means coming to have fun at a parrrr-tay! :)
On Tuesday, Jonathan and I went to the movies. 3rd time in a month or something, which is beyond a record for us. Before this run, we hardly ever went to movies! Anyways, I scored some advance passes to see "Orphan," and well, neither Jonathan nor I recommend it. It was slow and boring, predictable, and more of a thriller than a horror film. Oh well, screeners are always fun anyways, and who turns down a free movie?
You know what we did on Wednesday? Cleaned out his closet! We fought over a few things and had to do some item trades but overall, it went well and a lot of his out-of-style, have-way-too-many, and too-worn clothes are now being donated to our church yard sale. The Abercrombie & Fitch shirt from like 8 years ago is finally going away!! Fiancee is very excited about all of this. Here's the pile... And the run-down? 15 pairs of pants, 26 sweaters, 20 dress shirts, 15 tshirt, and 1 polo! Hooray!!
School started in full force on Monday. I'm in 3 online classes which are ending up being more like "busy-work classes." Since nursing isn't working out for me at the moment (but it will be... just not at this time), I'm working on Integrated Health Studies, and there's a few dumb classes I have to take to fulfill that - like Health, for example. It's my 5th year in college, Nursing major, and I have to take Health? Give me a break. Then the other 2 are Human Sexuality (it's actually more of a sociology class than anything) and Medical Sociology - 2 upper level classes. You have to have a certain number of "upper level classes" to graduate, and those were the only 2 that were online and applied to my major, so there you go. It's going to be a long 5 weeks!
Today I had Little M and the finger-cutting ordeal. I did have my first-ever chiropractor appointment, but I had to reschedule as I spent my appointment time going to the ER. It might have been a good thing I missed it though because my massotherapist did some intense fascial release on Tuesday and I'm still extremely sore from it. Tonight I have Baby L... my colicky screamer. Then Sunday I can breathe and Little M is going on vacation and my new nanny family (that I have yet to start with) is on vacation too, so Nanny gets a break!! (Aka, a few extra hours to do homework) Hooray! :)
Next week, lots of appointments, helping out at Shannon's VBC, a possible baseball game, then loads of babysitting over the weekend. Oh and school. Forgot about that. Blah.
But it's SATURDAY! No worries on Saturday! Happy Weekend & here's some funneh kittehs....
Jonathan sent me this next video... I told him the answer was NO!!
Thursday night when I got home, my dad greeted me with, "Come in here, Amanda, I want to talk to you." Unsure of what that meant, I came into his room where he was perched on his bed, as usual, enjoying his high-def, flat screen TV and surround sound.
"Just wanted to tell you how proud of you I am," he said.
I thought and thought, trying to figure out why he would be saying that.
"What are you talking about, Dad?"
"What you did tonight, Amanda, I know that was really hard for you, and I just wanted to tell you how proud of you I am for standing up for your friend."
Oh. That.
"Dad, I didn't have a choice - I wanted to be there. She's my best friend," I told him.
"Well yes, but I still know it was hard on you."
Why does that man always have to be right? I guess I could have shook it off and told him it wasn't a hard thing to do, but sometimes maintaining the strong facade just isn't worth the fight.
Thursday was my best friend's college graduation ceremony. Thursday, Jen graduated from the Ursuline College Breen School of Nursing, and I couldn't be more happy for her.
Sure, I sat there with a pit in my stomach most of the night, feeling a new jab every time someone gave a speech or explained how hard nursing school was for them. Every time a new nurse smiled, I couldn't help but remember that I should be graduating right now; I couldn't help imagining me smiling as well, diploma in hand, tears falling down my face as I walk across a stage before cheering friends, family, and colleagues. And then reality would set in, and I'd want to retort, "This degree was hard for you?! Do you have any idea how hard it is for a patient to get a nursing degree?!" "You worked through obstacles?! Ha, that's nothing compared to about a dozen diseases, a liver transplant, a car wreck.... just to name a few!"
But I did not. I sat there and cheered after some smiled and told of their all-nighters while others boasted about a dozen honor clubs and charities, all of which they are extremely active participants. Do they know what I would give to have the stamina to pull an all-nighter, to have the energy to be an active participant in anything but my own healthcare? They shared how important it is to see from the patients' points of view, but how many of them have been a serious patient for the majority of their life?
Don't get me wrong...
Each and every graduate worked so hard and did wonderful to get through such a hard program. They all are empathetic and caring, I'm sure. But my dad was right - there's no denying I felt like I got run over by a bus each time I thought of how all of these people are graduating with the degree that means so much more than a name on a paper. With each expression of joy and accomplishment I saw, I longed for this beast to let go of my life so I could show the world how I, too, could shine; how I, too, could move mountains for the vulnerable patients I can relate to all too well.
And while Dad is proud of me, I'm not.
I did what a best friend does, and I was there on the day my best friend saw the fruit of 4 years of excruciatingly hard work. The lives of her and her family are forever changed with this degree, and she, of all people, deserves every moment of happiness. She fought more than most to get to this point. So sure, while it's a tad bit bittersweet, I'm elated for her and this huge, huge accomplishment in her life.
But hear me now.
My time will come.
I don't care if it's the very last thing I do in my life; I will get that nursing degree just to show the world that the "sick girl" can do more than most thought, that the "sick girl" can change more lives than the presidents-list-book-smart-just-a-pretty-face ever could, that this "sick girl" won't let trials keep her down. Sometimes it feels like I'm going nowhere fast, but once I re-center, sometimes I can see a glimpse of the truth: I'm just chasing after my dreams, perhaps at a snail's pace, but the circles I run have to lead somewhere. Why be embarrassed at these little legs as they struggle to keep up the pace, tripping over pebbles and boulders alike, all the while?
Truly... what more than that could I ever ask for?
So in thinking about this special time, I'd like to share with you the card I found (several hours and stores later!) for Jen that, I believe, puts how I feel into the best possible words:
If I could give you anything as you graduate from college, I would give you a candle that burns as brightly as the light within you, the light you are... I would tell you to keep it burning, no matter what. I would say don't let the well-intentioned extinguish it. Don't let the mean-spirited blow it out. Don't let your light flicker and fade because of everyday challenges and concerns. The world is large, and no one can illuminate it alone, but it is amazing how a single candle, burning brightly, can light so many others. The world needs your light. Hold your candle high. Congratulations.
I am 22 & currently spend my days nannying my itty bitties + going to college (working on my nursing degree, goal: pediatric oncology) & am honored to be a published writer in a nursing anthology & a contributor to many scrapbooking publications. i love hanging with my amazing friends, sister & family. i love my baby puppy haylie brooke and our silly doggie ri-ri. in my rare spare time, i read & get crafty. i thrive on organization, my mac repertoire, learning & absolute fabulosity. my favorite place in the world is paris. my favorite color is pink. i love being a nurse & i believe each one of my patients is precious. i'm a night owl & wish my lifestyle promoted such habits. i like lazy jammie days. i believe in god and am thankful for his hand on my life. i believe that life is too short to be anything but happy, & i’m thankful that a chronic liver disease + the effects of a car accident have taught me important values that most people learn far too late. i hope that the world will find hope, and my idea of a good day is one in which i made someone smile :)
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I take my professional nursing standards very seriously. Please scroll to the bottom of the page to read about the promises I make to you regarding my site and any medical information found within.
My dear Cali friend nominated me for this "Honest Scrap" award. According to De Ann (or now, may I call you Tootie since you've finally proclaimed it to the world?) I must list 10 random facts about myself. Then another dear blog reader, Maureen, gave me the Fabulous Sugar Doll Blogger Award which coincidentally means I must list 10 random facts about myself. I'm very random, but I'm not very good about making lists like this, so I will let myself cheat and fulfill both obligations with one list. :) 
