Monday, February 27, 2012
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Sigh
Spent some time organizing photos for a project. I miss Washington. I miss our friends.
Sent from my iPhone
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Transitions
I suppose I'm used to transitions now - though that's not to say I'm good at them. I can see how I've become better at them - but still not good. This last one was rough - it was difficult for Bella, which intensified the difficulty & sadness we already felt. However, it's been about 6 months now and just as I thought transitions were over, I've become suddenly aware of a transition that I'm still getting used to.
My job, but not in a way you might think of.
Working with pediatrics at an entire hospital dedicated to the specialized care of children is like living in a cup half full world. Despite the prognosis, despite the disease progression, despite the terrible symptoms, hope rises above. Love and positivity transcends it all. Parents are as much our patients as the children are and pediatric providers are trained in or have learned over the years how to provide care to the entire family - not just the little person in the bed. There is a happy air that we all breathe; the environment is upbeat, cheerful. The wings have themes, the rooms have games, the furniture is small and inviting. Patient rooms are covered in family photos, crayola pictures from classmates, toys, flowers, balloons. The families of our patients are thankful and appreciative and show it. You grow close. Compassion exudes the health care team, seeps from the decor, permeates the floors. That's the pediatric hospital that I came from.
Now, I work with adults and geriatrics. Though I'm not involved in direct, hands on patient care anymore, I go on rounds daily to each floor and there is a stark - a DRASTIC - difference that I'm contending with. As I walk around the patient floors, I hear the cries of the elderly, wafting out to no one in particular. I listen to the confused conversations of the advanced alzheimers patients. I pass the empty, dark rooms that show little signs of family. I review the charts that specify DNR, hospice, and comfort care only. I see the look on some doctors' and some nurses' faces of exhaustion, reluctance to attend to the same patient's same request for the hundredth time that hour. (And that's not to say we don't have a wonderful team who still provides the best care, but we're a tired, overworked, under appreciated and underpaid profession.) I read histories of patients who are alone, who have just distant grand-nephew's to mind them. And it is sad. It makes me sad. And, it makes me wonder about the life that we've leased here on earth. It makes me think about the choices I or my family will make for me when I get to those last years. It makes me want to make sure I take care of this body so that it can prevail in the face of old age. It makes me wish I'd been better to my grandma when I was a teen. I want to send flowers to every patient at my hospital so there's something cheerful around them.
I started out nursing in adults and I definitely did not see this in those early years. But having gone into peds and back to adults - it is hard to ignore. I can't decide which thoughts were more troubling - working with peds and constantly fearing for my own children OR working with adults and being reminded of what could come?
My job, but not in a way you might think of.
Working with pediatrics at an entire hospital dedicated to the specialized care of children is like living in a cup half full world. Despite the prognosis, despite the disease progression, despite the terrible symptoms, hope rises above. Love and positivity transcends it all. Parents are as much our patients as the children are and pediatric providers are trained in or have learned over the years how to provide care to the entire family - not just the little person in the bed. There is a happy air that we all breathe; the environment is upbeat, cheerful. The wings have themes, the rooms have games, the furniture is small and inviting. Patient rooms are covered in family photos, crayola pictures from classmates, toys, flowers, balloons. The families of our patients are thankful and appreciative and show it. You grow close. Compassion exudes the health care team, seeps from the decor, permeates the floors. That's the pediatric hospital that I came from.
Now, I work with adults and geriatrics. Though I'm not involved in direct, hands on patient care anymore, I go on rounds daily to each floor and there is a stark - a DRASTIC - difference that I'm contending with. As I walk around the patient floors, I hear the cries of the elderly, wafting out to no one in particular. I listen to the confused conversations of the advanced alzheimers patients. I pass the empty, dark rooms that show little signs of family. I review the charts that specify DNR, hospice, and comfort care only. I see the look on some doctors' and some nurses' faces of exhaustion, reluctance to attend to the same patient's same request for the hundredth time that hour. (And that's not to say we don't have a wonderful team who still provides the best care, but we're a tired, overworked, under appreciated and underpaid profession.) I read histories of patients who are alone, who have just distant grand-nephew's to mind them. And it is sad. It makes me sad. And, it makes me wonder about the life that we've leased here on earth. It makes me think about the choices I or my family will make for me when I get to those last years. It makes me want to make sure I take care of this body so that it can prevail in the face of old age. It makes me wish I'd been better to my grandma when I was a teen. I want to send flowers to every patient at my hospital so there's something cheerful around them.
I started out nursing in adults and I definitely did not see this in those early years. But having gone into peds and back to adults - it is hard to ignore. I can't decide which thoughts were more troubling - working with peds and constantly fearing for my own children OR working with adults and being reminded of what could come?
Monday, February 13, 2012
Friday, February 3, 2012
Counting our blessings
My resolve to keep up with the blog in the new year has quickly dissolved with the steady pace of our new year, new life in Texas. Where did I leave off? Ah, November... So, highlights:
More bullet points, this time on the girls:
- Blessing 1. We moved into our house December 13; we were blessed with new friends to help us move. Would you believe that is a first? Charles and I have always moved at awkward times and suddenly, often taking the load on ourselves. What should have been a hard weekend's worth of back breaking work was done in just 8 hours. That includes emptying our apartment, emptying out our 2 storage units, and moving it all across town and into our brand new casa. Our neighborhood is lovely, quiet, protected as can be, and super friendly. We live in the cul de sac, which makes for lots of socializing with the neighbors. Bella has plenty of kids her age to play with as well. We have already gone on a double date with our neighbors and shared a babysitter - wonderful time. Great dinner out, fun drinks, lots of laughs, wine and conversation into the wee hours, and no one had to drive home!
- Blessing 2. Just 2 short weeks after moving into our house (and barely setting up shop), we were blessed to spend the holidays with Jen, Louie, Nathan, Tim, Beth, Josiah, Z & G, and Jake. Having four kids under 4 was entertaining, to say the least. Louie's sister and family also joined us for Christmas dinner. It was wonderful to spend our first Christmas in Texas, in our new house, with family. The kids were so incredibly adorable.
- Blessing 3. Elin's first birthday. In her first year she has blessed us with all sorts of warm fuzzies, filled us with love, love, love, and great, great memories. She is awesome. We celebrated her bday while all the fam was local; I wish I had a picture of all of us crowded around her singing - no wonder she had a frightened look about her.
- Blessing 4. My mom was able to come visit shortly after the new year. I always love it when Mom comes to visit - it's such a privilege to give her new experiences and show her different parts of the country. It's my giving back. We got to celebrate her birthday with her the day she arrived. We got to spend a lot of time together, took in movies, shopping, dinners. And, of course, there was a lot of eating Filipino food. Had to take enough in to hold me over until the next time. That reminds me to take some out of the freezer for tomorrow's lunch...
- Blessing 5. Bella's four years of life. My mom, Elin and I took Bella out on her actual birthday to a bouncy house for a couple of hours. My mom, Elin and I also bounced and felt like kids again. We went to lunch after and delighted in Bella's amazement as the crowd of restaurant servers sang Happy Birthday. She must have told every single person we passed that day that it was her birthday. We celebrated her bday on the 21st with her classmates at a fun indoor playground. She felt so special and everything went great - in spite of all my stress & worry. Lesson learned: book a party place months in advance.
- Blessing 6. Church. Our church family. They have really just made us feel at home here.
- Blessing 7. Work. Gainfully employed. Good jobs, flexibility, pays the bills, and we pray before meetings.
- Can you tell I'm running out of steam?
- The point is, we feel so blessed. God is good all the time.
More bullet points, this time on the girls:
- Elin is taking 8-10 steps now; I could probably say she's walking, but she's still pretty wobbly. She seems to prefer crawling; she gets where she needs to go faster with fewer bumps and bruises along the way.
- Bella is hilarious. Last night we went to family swim and I really saw her swim for the first time. She's amazing.
- I've been horrible with Elin with regards to eating. I'm pretty sure Bella was eating with a spoon by now. With Elin, I've been unwilling to deal with the mess that self feeding would entail, so she's maybe held a spoon twice. Oops.
- Bella got a two-wheeler with training wheels now. She was so excited about it and couldn't wait to get it out. The first time we took it out, we got all the way down our street before her first wipe out. She was looking for acorns and pedaling and started going down a steep driveway. I had Elin and couldn't react fast enough. Poor thing! She hasn't really wanted to ride it since.
- Elin has this personality that just commands attention. She lures you into her little games by giving you her winning smile, flashing her tiny teeth, letting you glimpse that adorable dimple on just one side... then she plays with you. Makes you chase her only for her to crumble into a fit of giggles as you begin your pursuit.
- Where in the world do my girls' socks go? Why can we not keep track of them?
- My girls are severely overdressed in Texas for the weather. I can't get it through my head that in February in Texas it may be 70 and humid. I keep sending them to school in fleece hoodies, sweaters, jeans, shoes... while other little girls are going to school in sundresses! Yikes!
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