A little Bit about Death

A patient of mine died tonight. 

I've had other patients die before. I have... but the thing is, I was ready for it. They were ready for it. They came here where I work, to die. Tonight, someone that wasn't waiting for it, was greeted by death. It's taken me a few hours for the realization that he's gone, to sink in. My stomach actually hurts. Everything just happened in a crazy blurred tornado.

Finding him unconscious, calling a nurse, him performing CPR. *my adrenaline spiking* The MA calling 911, me standing in a stupor of idiocy watching this man die and wanting to do more. Grab the vitals cart, grab his chart, call his wife, his daughter, no answer. Frantically search for his DNR record, can't find it, he's a full code. EMT arrive, lots of them, cops, other curious patients. Nothing like death to draw in a crowd.

Questions, running, searching, watching, running, watching, just watching.... so this is what death is like. One minute you're there asking for water because you can't get enough to drink and the next....you're gone. Just. Gone.

Was he watching us there? Trying to revive his lifeless body? I don't know if I'd watch if it were me. I'd be looking for the people I love or visiting the living people I'll miss and saying goodbye however my spirit could.

After the ambulance rushed his body away and the audience left, I went back into his room to clean. I washed, I pushed back tears, and I thought. I thought about a TV show I like. Scrubs. I thought about the first time that the main character encountered death, he said something like, "The one thing I felt, was guilt, about how hard this was for me."

His death was hard for me. It was hard for me to realize that that was it. It was done. It was hard for me to see him like that. They were so rough with his body when they did CPR and eventually intubated him. It is even hard now to realize that somewhere a family has been changed forever.

I can only pray with all my heart that the last few hours of his life under my care were good ones. I hope that somewhere his family is being comforted. I know I am comforted by the knowledge that he lived a long life. I hope it was mostly good for him. I am comforted to know that what he has beyond this life is much better. He went home.

And now I just hope I can recover quickly from losing him, because my heart hurts.  

Now that was an experience.

Ok, are you ready for this? This is a moment I will never forget, especially now that I've typed it down. Sometimes working at elderly care facilities leads to some great stories. Here is a story I had to share with you all. Obviously for the sake of the patients involved and HIPPA, I will be giving them fake names. Also, this happened in like the past 8 months.

So one night while at work there was an incident. I'm honestly not surprised that it happened. I mean, what can someone expect when two dementia patients are put in the same room to sleep where their sun-downing can explode full steam! * Sun-downing: when a patient who has Alzheimers or dementia becomes more agitated, confused, angry, or combative only at night.*

We had Francine in bed, she actually is independent enough to put herself to bed no trouble for us. Side-note, most of my patients walk a bit slumped over if they're actually walking, so it's no surprise to me that Francine also walks a bit slumped over. Tonight she went to bed and then Patty, her roommate went to bed, but first Patty decided to figure out why all these people were in her house.

She marched over to Francine's bed and sat down on it and started to swear and curse at her. Francine, completely asleep, flew out of bed in terror! Streaked across her room, slightly hunched over and then booked it out of her room. By this time, anyone in range had come running.

"There's a woman in my bed!" She yelled. I honestly did not believe her at the time. I mean.... come on, she has dementia. Rude I know. But I appeased her and walked in to see the "woman" on her bed. And lo and behold there she was, Patty, crazy eyes, and all.

This is when I began, with a few other CNAs, to attempt to reason with Patty. She sat on the bed, her brow furrowed in deep anger and ranted, "Look at you! You're young." She points to a CNA and then points to a few others. "You're young! You're young! What are all you kids doing in my house!" she raged, "If your parents were here, would you be here?!"

I calmly replied, "Patty, we'd all be here. You invited us."

She didn't take the bait, "Like hell I did!" I guess letting her live in her reality wasn't going to work this time, but I still pressed on.

"Patty, you told us we could stay here. You told her...." pointing to Francine, "that she could stay here too and you're being rude to your guests."

She didn't care, but at least she got off Francine's bed, yelling once more, "Like hell I did!" She then decided to shoo us rough-ians out of her 'house'. Her little body, quickly shuffled across the floor, her arms flapped in the air at us, eyes bugged out of her incredibly wrinkled head. It was at this moment that I had to try really hard not to laugh as I dodged her frail, swinging arms. Eventually we just ignored Patty, and stayed out of her range. We went back and tried to convince Francine to go back to bed and that we'd do our best to keep Patty out of her side of the room. She listened. . . . although, she probably shouldn't have.

The hype calmed down for about 20 minutes. Francine was back in bed resting and Patty finally went to her bed to what we thought was sleep. We..... were wrong.

It turned out that Patty was not done tormenting her roommate. Francine ran out of her dark room again claiming this time that Patty was standing over her bed staring at her. Creepy!!!


"I don't have a roommate! What the *$%#@ is she doing in here!?" Patty shrieked.

"You had a roommate last night, you idiot, how can you forget that!?" Francine yelled at her. Ironic coming from her, the woman that forgets everything....just like her roommate.

Patty just gave Francine the look of death and starting incoherently yelling again.

"Francine, why don't we find you another room to stay in. That way you can sleep tonight and not be bothered by anyone," the nurse assured her. She put her arm around Francine and walked her down the dark hallway to another room. As we followed her, one of the CNAs turned around, drawing my attention to what he was looking at.

It was Patty, now standing in the dark doorway of her room at the end of the dark hallway. Hunched over. Insanely wrinkled. Crazy bug eyes. And silent. She slowly closed the door, peeking out until it closed entirely.

The CNA who looked back at her started laughing. It was contagious and soon we were all laughing! Mostly from being tired and easily amused. Seeing her close that door was straight out of a horror movie.

Francine was not amused. We tried to get her into another room, but she was not going to sleep with a roommate. After I left they put her in the empty doctors' office and let her sleep there.

Apparently Patty is not very good with roommates because since this incident. She has been moved three times. First time for terrorizing roommates. Second for stealing roommates belongings and hiding their stuff under her bed and the third for just plain being naughty.

oh man.... sometimes I love my job.

Emotional Stump

I have very few things in my life that are emotionally stirring for me. I just don't find myself responding to some situations correctly. My husband will be irritated at me for something stupid I've done and instead of feeling remorse the desire to talk it out with him, I'll close down. My mind goes blank and I stop feeling. I can sense myself going cold. He'll ask me to share what I am feeling over the issue we're discussing and nothing comes to my mind.

Interestingly enough I have found that watching movies, watching others feel so freely and willingly makes me feel safe. I can share my emotions with them without them making me feel inferior for wanting to cry, laugh, shout or giggle. In a strange way, I can trust the characters on the TV, because they allow me to be me, no strings attached. Is it a ridiculous notion to think that I am safer to truly feel during a stirring movie, than to feel while I am with my husband? We actually joked that while we watched the last Harry Potter movie, I had gotten my emotional quota for the entire month.

After years of being closed off and emotionally unfeeling, I've finally discovered perhaps a little piece of why I do this. Why I shut off. I've been hurt before, everyone has, and this was my way of coping. I showed someone my emotions, I was vulnerable and weak and my feelings were hurt. Trampled on. I learned my lesson and stopped trusting people with my emotions. I learned that emotions are weakness; I learned the being strong, to be better, that I could not let others see how I feel. But I learned the wrong lesson. I really didn't learn anything, I didn't grow from my experience, I hid from it. I hid behind a wall of nothingness and made myself the weak one.

I look at my wonderful, amazing, smart, genuine husband and I envy his ability to feel. He loves to love! He loves to express his feelings, to work through them and grow from them. I am so grateful for his patience with my inability to share with him what I am feeling. He helps draw out my emotions. Hopefully one day I can trust myself to feel confident with my feelings. For now, I'll just have to keep working on it and try to channel my emotions toward my husband and not toward a movie.

Cute Giveaway

No no no. Not my own giveaway! I'm not cool enough for that. But I thought I might as well share a link for those of you new mothers out there for this cute little thing!

http://www.theidearoom.net/2011/04/woombie-giveaway.html#comment-42189

The Pathway is Clear

Do you ever feel like sometimes Heavenly Father has your life entirely in His hands? I know I should probably feel like that all the time, but I unfortunately don't think like that a lot. Today though, I really can feel his influence in my life. M was laid off about a month or so ago, which was really hard for us. I was looking for a job and could NOT find one anywhere. I'd applied to at least 50 places. And then out of the blue I got a job at a rehab facility that never hires new CNA's. M kept looking for another job because we couldn't really keep living with just this job. And then, I got another call and was hired on as a home health aid. I feel so blessed and so grateful to my Heavenly Father.

Things didn't work out like we thought they would. We figured I would work part time. M would find another job at another business and keep going to school. But now he gets to go to school more while I work! What a blessing and clear example of how Heavenly Father takes care of us. He watches out for us and is aware of our needs, even if we aren't.

Yay for two jobs and a more clear path for M to finish school with!

Good News

I don't normally like posting on here unless I have photos. So... since I did not have a photo that I took, I scoured the internet to give you this doozy!

Ready for the good news? After searching for nearly two months, I have found a job!!! I get to work at a local rehab and comfort care facility. My patients are all short term and generally on the younger side of old age.... if that makes sense. haha. I am thrilled to be working! I am excited to put my skills to new use and become a better CNA! M is very excited to have me working since he does not have a job yet and if things go the way they need to for our family, I'll have a second job by tomorrow working as a home health aid for hospice patients. I'll be the sugar mamma! I'm getting on my way to becoming a CNA in the hospitals

All in all though, we are doing good here in Utah. The weather is finally improving. We're figuring out how to restructure our lives that were kind of thrown into a blender when we found out that M was being laid off due to company restructuring. I sometimes think that he has not been able to get a job because the Lord needs me to be the one working for now so that he can go to school more and get our little family through his education more quickly! Time will tell what He has in store for us though. This place that I am working at never hires CNAs. I was told at least 3-4 times by different people that they never hire new CNAs. Divine intervention on my behalf? Maybe. 

I kept thinking about my little old lady picture up there and decided I wanted to peruse my pictures and see if I had any I hadn't shared yet. And guess what! I found some! I have such cute kids. They are so fun and growing so wonderfully and having lots of fun with their Daddy, who has now temporarily become Mr. Mom.

 Ninja turtles E!

 He wanted to wear a red headband like me. He does a good job pulling it off doesn't he!

My cute little big, A. He reminds me often that he is not little.

Who Gave You the Right

I have learned a few things about myself during my 23 years of life on this earth. One of which is my inability to watch movies based on historical events. Really really bad events. Especially WWII. Even if the movie is fiction, it still breaks my heart and tears up my insides.

I just watched a movie called Charlotte Grey. (I seem to be moved greatly by many movies I watch.) It's about a woman who, during WWII, decides to join the resistance in France so she can find her lover who was shot down. *spoiler alert* During her journey she bombs trains, loses six friends in a massacre and-the part that hurts me the most- she loses two little boys, who she has grown to love, to the Nazi's because they're Jewish. I'm especially sensitive since.... well, I have two little boys of my own.

There is a part in the movie after the little boys have been taken away where Charlotte is in despair and a one of the men she knows comes to her and says this: *or something close to this*

"Why are you trying to die? You do not get to stop living, because their fate is to die. You did everything you could. You do not choose who gets to live and who gets to die." 

I am wondering, who the hell gave the Nazi's the idea that they had that right? How much of your soul do you have to sell to the devil to allow little children to die because of something they cannot help. Do you know what my greatest fear is? That our awful, terrible, crippled and idiotic human race has not learned it's lesson. How many innocent people have to suffer because of wicked and corrupt people? How many more times are sick and twisted men going to come into power and destroy delicate lives? How many more children are going to be robbed a a childhood, either from death or from living in a world of constant fear. How many more times are good people going to stand by and do nothing because it's easier? I know that I will not stand by if something like this comes to my front door. I will fight against the real monsters in this world, especially the one's who hide behind politics and religion. 

I wonder what happens to the souls who thought they had the right to decide who gets to live and who gets to die based off their religion or race. I am not perfect and in my imperfect state, I take pleasure in knowing that cruel and evil men will get theirs too. 

All of those children, mothers, fathers and grandparents who were killed were at least freed from their pain and fear. I know they get to see their Heavenly Father and they get to be embraced in his arms, safe. Safe from pain, hurt, and fear. I know that every person robbed of their life here is welcomed by a loving Heavenly Father and brother, Jesus Christ. This knowledge, comforts my aching soul and keeps me smiling and loving my life. This knowledge calms me down after I watch a movie that manipulates my emotions so severely that I have to write about it, through tears, stuffy nose, and a headache from so much crying. 

You Take the Good, You Take the Bad.

I feel that it is only appropriate to tell you about the good in my life after you have gotten to read all about the not so good in my last post. So tonight at midnight, because I cannot fall asleep after eating 3 rolls and a handful of candy, I am going to share with you, in pictures, the good in my life and not all of the typical good you get from most people. You know like, God, husband, children and family in general. No. I am going to share this:

Bubbles

Green Fields

Sunny Skies

Cloud Gazing

My warm cozy bed

The art of masters and my own skill.

My popcorn!

And cucumbers.

A good laugh.

My nice legs. I look slamming in high heels. And no those aren't my legs, I'm actually not conceited enough to take a picture of my own legs and post them on here.

And wildflowers. Because I get to plant some soon. Just look how beautiful they are.

My life is good, my life is bad. It sometimes feels like the bad shows up more than I want it to, but I am learning how to push it back and away. It is so much easier to be happy than to be sad all the time. I have faith that someday things will fall into place in my life. I am lucky enough now to have a few things that have finally fallen into place, now I'm just waiting for those milestones to get there. :) I hope that some of you can draw comfort from my imperfections and sometimes temporary overwhelming obstacles. I hope this can make you feel like it is alright to feel sad for things, alone some days, overwhelmed by small things, uninspired, angry at life, or angry just for the sake of being angry. It's ok to feel. Just don't let the blue feelings take over the other feelings. Yesterday I was blue, but today I am red, yellow, and orange! I am ok with where my life is, I am ok with my kids, my home, my decorations and my personality. Today I am glad to be me. Hopefully I can hold that thought close to my heart and keep reminding myself that I am glad to be me, because I have a lot to offer to myself. 

The Bottom of the Roller Coaster

Life is kind of sucking it up right now. I could have put that more eloquently, but I think I deserve a pass just for using the word eloquent. You know when people tell you that life is like a roller coaster. By the way, I think it's annoying when people say things like that. Life is like blah blah blah. . . yeah, you could almost use ANYTHING to compare life to. Life is like a knife; it's useful, it's hurtful, it's sharp, dull, scary, and pretty. See. . . ANYTHING! But, I'm still calling my life right now, like a roller coaster. Specifically a bottoming out portion of a roller-coaster.... on a rainy day.... with a nasty wind chill... and a sick person sitting next to you.

I mean look at the list of things I feel like I have working against me! Either by no fault of my own, or in most of these cases, by me putting them there:

• M and I both don't have jobs right now.
• We can't seem to find ANY jobs ANYWHERE.
• We can't apply for loans or grants because of a certain status McKay needs to achieve, so we have to pay for school one class at a time.
• He's no where near graduating. . . sooo depressing.
• And neither am I. 
• I still have no friends. (That's my own personal pity party and my own fault for being a recluse)
• We can't really afford where we live, but we're still living here.
• Our tempers are shorter than a human tail.  *In case you were confused.... humans don't have tails, I know, big shocker! :)*
• M and I can't seem to get along right now. Marriage is hard people. So don't go and believe people that are all lovey to each other all the time. They're either newly weds, lying, or way too submissive for their own good. (This might be because of the job thing. We're both edgy.)
• A and E are being pills. A has taken to lying and E has decided it is no longer worth it for him to listen to us, unless we're REALLY loud. 
• I'm doubting my parenting skills. When they fight, my first instinct is to yell back and then dropkick one of them into their room. I'm really frustrated that I just can't seem to get it. I really don't like playing with them because I don't like wrestling and that's all we do together. They don't get hurt, I do. And we can't afford to go and buy crafty things to make because life sucks. 
• I'm also coming to realize that I am an annoying person. I don't like to be sociable if I don't have to. I saw 7 people at the grocery store tonight that go to my church, and instead of just saying hi, I look the other way like I didn't see them there. Or at the checkout stand, I just stare off into space or at the ground. I would really like it if I liked to say hi to people.
• We have to get rid of our dog because we can't afford to keep her, but I don't have the heart to take her to the pound where she could be put down. So she stays, and unknowingly sucks money from us that we don't have.

SooooOOoo.... my life is bottomed out right now. If this were one of my drawings, I would throw it out and start over again. Maybe this gloomy weather and small, uninhabitable house are making me crazy, but I really feel like I have my tire so far stuck in the mud that I'm never going to get out of it. I really feel like this is just the way life is going to be. A flatline. A dud. A pile of broken dreams and hopes shattered by a cruel world. (melodrama!) I just need something to turn this frown, upside-down. 

I'll just go back to watching Grey's Anatomy and crocheting a hat. It's the perfect way to just forget.

Blood in the Urine

So, I don't really want to talk about what is going on with me usually because my children are already SO interesting. But I know I'd be sad if I didn't talk about my experience today. About 3 weeks ago I went to the doctor to have a regular physical, and as you all know, that's a sucky experience in itself. But for me, it was a little different. The doctor told me I had excess blood in my urine. This was news to me! I've been peeing fine recently thank you and did not see ANY blood. He said it could be a number of things and to come in for another UA (urinalysis) to see if the bleeding was gone. 10 days later I came in again.... aaand there was still excess blood in my urine (hematuria). They scheduled me to see a urologist and after another week I went to my pee doctor. Peed in a cup again and was told yet again I had hematuria. He ordered a CT.

And I had a date with this guy.

After lots of paperwork, waiting/napping in the waiting room, I was finally called back. They made me dress in this crap.

oooh good times. I mean who doesn't love walking around a hospital with no bra on and an open back gown. 

They brought me into the room. Had me lie down and then just told me to listen to the machine. They put this really warm blanket on me and I have to admit it was rather nice. I was pulled through the CT about 3 times as it told me to "breath in" and "hold your breath". Inside the donut you can see dark band in the photo. Inside there they have something that spins around. It makes you feel like you're in a dryer, either that or you're going to be transported to the dinosaur era in nothing but some hospital garb and no bra!

The first round of this was to check for kidney stones. I had none that were apparent. She told me that meant I get to have the contrast dye injected into my veins to look at my organs.

This is the best most basic picture I could find. 

She started me on a IV and then told me she would pump the first half into my arm and then after 10 minutes she'd pump the 2nd half so that my entire insides would be lit up. No- this is not something you can just obviously see. But I could feel it. First I could feel my vein pulsing as the dye was being inserted, then my entire body got really warm. It felt like I had to pee. Very odd. And then came the nasty taste in my mouth that I couldn't really taste for long. For whatever reason, my insertion site hurt like crazy. The catheter inside was causing all sorts of hell. I just dealt with it rather than get another IV inserted. IVs feel like a bee sting to me, except once the bee sting feeling is gone, it feel like the bee has lodged itself under my skin at the IV site. I suck at getting poked with needles.

After the second round with the CT machine I was able to get up, get dressed, and wait for the results. And it was nothing.... they couldn't find anything. All scans were negative. Don't get me wrong! I'm glad for this, but this also means I just went through all that crap for NOTHING. Oh and of course this means I have to have a cystoscopy on Thursday. I'm looking less forward to this than I was for the CT.

What they're basically going to do is feed a little  camera up my urethra. . . ew. So, thank you excessice hematuria- you suck.

"Your Blackberry or Your Wife"

This is something I am fairly certain that every family has to deal with in our world, er, America today; technology. It's is literally everywhere! Unless of course you live in the backwoods of Oregon in a shanty hut and use candles for light. Ironically, I am using my technology to remind some of you that we need to take a breather. We need to step back and get away from all of our gadgets. I found an article this morning that I found intriguing. Especially this part.

10 Signs Your Devices Are Hurting Your Relationships: 1. You can't get through a meal without emailing, texting or talking on the phone. 2. You look at more than one screen at a time, checking email while watching television, for example.  *I do that... usually a little game while I watch a show* 3. You regularly email or text, other than for something urgent, while your partner or another family member is with you. 4. You sleep with your phone near you, and you check your email or texts while in bed. 5. You log onto your computer while in bed. *guilty yet again.* 6. You have had an argument with a loved one about your use of technology. *oh boy...* 7. You text or email while driving. I don't do this, it's against the law... 8. You no longer go outside for fun. 9. You never turn off your phone. 10. When you spend time with your family -- a meal, a drive, hanging out -- each person is looking at a different screen. well it looks like I need to make some technology changes. What about you? And now, onto the more fun part of blog posts. The pictures!

Sorry, I don't have cooler pictures. We're not up to much around here. We all have cabin fever and are going a bit crazy. I really do hate the snow sometimes. I don't mind it in small doses. Or maybe I wouldn't mind it, if it didn't make me feel trapped in my own home- that could also be because of the one car that we have and my NON desire to WALK to get to places. Either way, life is going on. A is in primary now, which is SO exciting! For those of you completely confused by what primary is: it's a church program for children 3-12. Each Sunday A will now go to primary, while poor E stays in nursery (18mo-3) class. Actually, I'm not feeling all that bad for E, seeing as he gets to play for two hours during church! 


Daddy M has started school, he's taking one class this semester while I am home, studying for my CNA state exams! And then it's job hunting for me. I am so thrilled to be working again, but some days I am struck with this panicked feeling of worry about doing my job right, worrying about the hours, and worrying about how my mood might change by working again. I need to stop over thinking things! 


Now, you, whoever you are. Turn off your computer, your TV, give me your iPod, and go read a book!

My New Love

I never believed in love at first sight....

until I met you.

You came in a box. Covered in Styrofoam. Tucked under my Christmas Tree. It was destiny!

*AAAAHHHHAAA aaaAAAHHH* (angelic singing)

Maybe it was that glowing white porcelain mixer. Or your shimmering chrome bowl figure. Or maybe it was just meant to be. All I know is, I was hooked. 

 We are clearly made for each other. A match made in kitchen heaven! We are Ren and Stimpy, Bert and Ernie, Hot milk and Chocolate, Peanut butter and Jelly! No one can separate us!

We took our first journey together and made something beautiful.

 Fluffy, sexy, brownie mix!

I can tell already that we'll be friends forever. Hug, hug. Kiss, kiss. Big huge, big kiss, little kiss.

Miracles

It's been a while since I've written anything on here. I feel like during the Christmas season I should have SO much to say. But I've been so busy that I don't really have much to say, and then I went to church and was so moved by part of our lesson on Sunday.

Naturally, we talked about gifts. Not tangible things, but other more spiritual gifts. One of the gifts we mentioned, was actually something I never considered a spiritual gift, (yeah I know, I'm saying that word waay too much.) it was the gift of miracles. Recognizing them and accepting them in our lives. I began to think of miracles in my life, that at the time, I didn't really consider them miracles, since they weren't grand scale occurrences. Or, at least at the time, they didn't seem so.

When I was a child, just about to turn 8, my head had a run in with a hard floor. As a result of this.... sudden meeting, I had a concussion. My memory is probably much more dramatic than my parents' memory was, because lets face it. Kids are all drama queens- it's not just me! I remember going to school every day feeling fine and coming home very sick. I had no energy to do anything. I would just lie in bed and sleep. I remember my mother waking me up from time to time. Since I am LDS, I had made the decision to get baptized when I turned 8, which just so happened to be very soon. A day or so before my baptism, my mother took all of us kids to the airport to pick grandma up. I was so sick that she had to put me in a stroller and wheel me through the airport. I must have looked so retarded. I was so weak that I could not walk. The night of my baptism came and I could not get out of bed. I had no strength... and then I received a blessing from my father and a few other men. I remember getting up out of bed on my own, getting to the car and making it to my baptism. I did not feel sick at all during this time. I was able to go down into the waters of baptism without any trouble and when I was taken back into the changing room, I once again became very ill. I know my Heavenly Father blessed me that night and kept me strong for as long as I needed to be strong. I will never forget my baptism and how special it was to me.

I'll try to keep these others short. Not long ago, my sister was in a head on collision going about 30-40 mph. I did not witness the aftermath of the accident, but my parents did. They explained to me that the two cars were smashed together like accordions. She came home from the hospital a day after the accident with only a broken nose and severely cut up lip. Which, was still devastating to see, but it could have been so much worse. It was a miracle that she only sustained minor injuries. As well as only a minor injury to the other driver.

This last year, my dad was rushed to the ICU in septic shock. He almost died a few times before they stabilized him. He was put into a coma for I think about a week, he was hooked up to chest tubes, he was given a feeding tube and had multiple surgeries performed on him. It was a miracle that good people were able to take over his practice, while he recovered. It was a miracle that even during the middle of my semester I was able to fly home. It was a miracle that he survived. It was and is a miracle that my dad is not angry or bitter about his current condition.

I have a testimony of the gift of miracles. I have a testimony that our Lord and Savior has an active hand in our lives. We just have to open our eyes and allow ourselves to see it. I have a testimony that there is no event out there that is too small, to be considered a miracle.

Recently, a beloved building to the LDS church and the Provo community burned down.

 This 4 alarm fire destroyed this building and left a community in shock, but even through so much devastation and sadness, there was left something  beautiful.

The image of Christ, spared from the flames.

I know my Savior lives. And I know he loves each and every one of us. He has an active hand in our lives. We just need to open our arms and let him him.

My New and Special Experiences

As many of you may know, I have been taking a CNA class this semester instead of courses at BYU. I am not coming to the end of my class, and frankly, in my opinion, the BEST part of my class! I started clinicals this last Tuesday and I have actually really enjoyed it. I say it like that, because, yes, I wasn't so sure if I would have fun taking care of the elderly. This does not mean I wouldn't enjoy their company, but there are some dirtier things involved with residents that are in care facilities. I mean, they are there because they need help, not because they are completely capable of taking care of themselves.

During my first clinical I worked in the dementia wing. And I cannot say this enough- serving these people has filled my heart with love and happiness. Service does people good. It truly does. To those receiving the service as well as those giving it. I have to say that when people talk about that in church or just in general, that I would kind of smile and nod, because I really didn't believe it. I knew it made me feel good, but I didn't know how much it could make someone feel good.

I'll just share a few experiences on here. Tonight I met a 93 and 104 year old women. And it looks to me like they could truck along for a while more.

I came in contact with a resident with MRSA. I would tell you to google it, but I highly suggest you stay away from any images. It's basically a super bad bug. It's resistant to anything with -icillin at the end of it. penicillin is one we're most familiar with. But I guess modern medicine today uses a lot of drugs with -icillin in it. I know I'm not properly explaining that- sorry all you nurses out there. But basically all you have to know is when you have MRSA, it's nasty. It's highly communicable and you get it by contact. Thank gosh it's not air borne. Which means for me, that I get to wear gloves (which we always do anyway), a mask (even though it's not airborne, I'm not risking it) and then a yellow suit to keep me safe.

I was able to listen to a story by a dementia patient every time I crossed his path. I know all about the Colorado River now and how much fun it is to fish and hunt along those waters. I will have to admit, it makes me very sad to see these residents. The dementia patients are like little children. And I'm not talking about your ornery little 3-4 year olds. They're like your 1 year old. That obviously depends on how far into the disease they are. It was really hard for me to see them like that. Because it's this adult person, that is a shell of the human they used to be. I had a man I helped feed that could only really say 'yes' and 'no'. I was telling him about how Christmas is my favorite all time holiday and his face just lit up. He started to say "yes! yes! yes!" as he pointed to himself. He started to laugh and hug me. It was a special little moment for me, even to just get that man to smile. And I'm sure he'll never remember it. But I know I will.

I have been really scared lately that I wouldn't be a good CNA, but I feel like I might love this job more than I ever hoped I would.

Holiday Season

Ok Christmas! Bring it on! I have my decorations up. I have my Christmas countdown calendars out. I have most of the presents purchased. And I have the winter clothes out!

Now I'm just ready for the light displays, the Christmas music and the family moments!

I love Christmas. I can't get enough of the spirit of Christmas. I actually could do without the snow some of the time. Just saying. But I mean look at these pictures. Who DOESN'T love this?!

I LOVE CHRISTMAS!!!

Perfection. It's a myth

I'm not going to lie, sometimes reading other people's blogs just depresses me. And here's why. They're always SO happy and SO perfect! I see pictures of the mother that made her kids' TinkerBell costume,the mother that bakes the most EPIC birthday cake EVER, the mother that makes homemade chocolate suckers and lets her kids paint them, the mother that instead of getting annoyed with her kid traipsing around her feet imagining that they're on a mountain- just plays along, and the mother that for whatever reason is fantastically fashionable and can dress their kid like a runway model. It's depressing. I get it into my head that I can never be like that. Sure I post fun, cute stuff on here and I can some days write a good story to go along with the pictures, but if my kids were running around my ankles pretending to be up on a mountain or on a beach, I'd get annoyed after a while. I can't keep my boys clean enough to stay in one outfit all day and I'm an awful cook, so homemade chocolate treats just doesn't happen. I can barely keep up with myself, let alone everyone else and their perfect blog lives. It makes me really want to fast forward my life to a time when McKay and I are done with school and we have money so I CAN do some things that all these other parents seem to be able to do.

I'm going to learn a good lesson here though. I'm going to learn that life is not perfect. Even these people on these blogs have issues. They fight with their kids, they lose their temper, they feel inadequate as parents, and they probably go to bed after a complete day of wastefulness and nothingness. Life is not perfect. Money does not make life better. Memories do. Scraping together whatever you have out of your rented kitchen to make chocolate/caramel/butterscotch blobs is ok. They don't have to look like perfectly molded chocolate hearts and angels and stars. Blobs are good. I don't need money to have fun with my kids. I can learn that someday can be today. Someday I'll do that with my kids.... well why does it have to be someday? We're going to do to that today and if we utterly fail, we'll at least have that dreadful memory to keep us smiling until we feel brave enough to potentially utterly fail again.

Today we will live, we will fail and we will succeed. But at least we were doing it and not focusing on those friends that have perfect blogs with 'obviously' perfect lives.

I think this picture was taken by my son A while I was asleep downstairs "neglecting" my kids and feeding my desire to sleep. E makes quite a handsome little doctor. 

The rug

Yes, the rug. It was love at first sight. I wandered around the store hunting for the perfect rug. And there she was- glowing! She lay there all beautiful and green and perfectly stitched. I just had to have her. 20 some-odd dollars later she was mine. I proudly carried her home, ready to place her on our bathroom floor, knowing our relationship would be splendid. How could it not be with that beautiful green color!

Our relationship started out wonderfully. She kept the floor warm, she added such flavor to the bathroom, she kept my kids from slipping when they were wet.... but then it happened. I'm not sure what provoked it, but A and the green rug fought. Maybe she made him slip, I don't know, but he decided to poo on her. Just a teensy bit! But enough that she had to be removed from our bathroom and sat outside and waited for someone to wash her.

At first I was eager to keep her clean! As soon as she went outside she was hosed down, washed and quickly dried; which is when she was lovingly brought back inside to grace our bathroom floor. But A was relentless! A few days later, there was more POO on the rug. Then pee. More poo. More pee. A bit of puke. Some blood. My beautiful rug spent more time outside than in! Every time we clean her and bring her back inside she gets defiled!

Some weeks, the rug will be outside for a few weeks before we clean it. And during those weeks there will be no accidents, no messes, nothing! And as soon as we bring her back in, she gets messed up again! I tell you, my beautiful rug is cursed! I don't know what happened, but our relationship has turned sour. I hate the green rug! I hate the mess! I hate that she cannot stay clean for more than one day! And I am sure, that for the rest of her existence in our house, she will rain down poo, pee, puke and blood. Curse the rug!

Life isn't measured in minutes, but in moments

There are things that seem to come into my life that move me beyond words. My emotions overflow, often in my case, into tears. Today I watched a movie that did just that to me. Filled my heart with happiness, sadness, and thoughts I haven't nourished in a long while. I just watched the movie, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button and found myself here, thinking. What am I? What was I born to do? There was the dancer, the artist, the mother, the musician, the swimmer. If life isn't measured in minutes, but in moments, then what moments have made my life? What has made me who I am? From the day I was born, I began to paint my masterpiece, I began to create moments that defined me. The little girl twirling in the dresses and chasing bullfrogs. The young adolescent playing soccer and leading her team. That teenager that loved so much and then lost it all. The mother of two little boys and the wife of a good man. My moments have only just begun. My masterpiece is only beginning to take form.

I look at those I love around me and can now see so many beautiful tapestries of lives. My father, a tapestry of adventure, excitement, solace in the woods, great love and great sadness; his painting, like many of ours is beginning to change in a way he did not expect. I can see his life and I can feel how much character and life he's put into it. He's bright reds, bright oranges and yellows that intertwine with blues and greens. There's a new color there, an unfamiliar color as he takes the next journey in his life and learns what the Lord has in store for him. I can see my mother, her painting is just as glorious as my father's, but also so very different. There's gentle hands, and a gentle voice, there's great love and sadness as well, there's energy- like an ocean wave that pulls the water out to sea, it's impossible not to get caught up in her energy. She shines like a sunset over the ocean. It's so gentle, the colors are so soft, but the light from the sun is still stunning. My mother's life is vibrant blues, deep purples, and sparkling with yellows and reds.

It is my time to see what colors I've painted my life with. It is my time to find what moments I want, to define me.

I am full of eagerness at what my life has in store for me. Maybe I will be the dancer, the musician, the mother, or the lover.

Oliver

I was in 2nd grade and I was in love. He was my first love and who could blame me! He was perfect. He was brought to me for show and tell. My eyes lit up when I first saw him. He was presented in class with his siblings and then put to the side. I instantly ran to where he was and pressed my face against the glass. He was mini cotton ball with pink little feet and a pink little nose and pink little ears. I had to have him. The $2 exchange was made and my new companion was picked up and put into a recycled butter carton, just large enough for him lie down and rest. I made him a little bed inside, nice and soft and poked holes in his ceiling so he could breath. 

I sat in class with him delicately perched on my desk. He was quiet and gentle and patient. He waited in the butter carton until class was over. The bell rang! I lifted the lid ever so slightly and peeked inside to feel a soft pink little nose tickle me. I lifted the lid more and was greeted by curious staring pink eyes. He was the best little thing I had ever seen. And he was mine. My little Oliver. The rat my mom never wanted and could never get rid of. 

After 3 years I like to think she was glad her little 2nd grader ran home with a little rat in a butter carton just big enough for the poor thing to curl up into a ball. He was a smart little pet. He was friendly. He never ran away even though he was given many chances to. He was eventually buried in the backyard with a little rat ceremony that I'm grateful my parents took seriously for my little broken heart. 

Didn't your Mother ever tell you not to judge a book by it's cover?

Sometimes we humans make incorrect judgments. In all honesty, it's really not our fault. There are too many things out there we humans like to hide behind: humor, brains, brawn, shyness or rudeness. We humans, are easy to embarrass; you can be that popular outgoing girl, that brilliantly smart shy boy, that CEO with all the power, the crafty woman or the silly mother; you are easy to embarrass. Disagree? Look inside yourself and really dig deep to see what you're hiding from the world. 


Are you not that funny? and because so, you try not to joke? Are you depressed, but you don't believe in depression so you surround yourself with people to prove you're not feeling blue all the time? Are you tortured by critical parents, but say nothing because when you do talk, the critiquing begins? Are you a bad singer and try to hide it? What are you hiding? Why?


We all have problems, embarrassments and faults. In an ideal world, we would feel comfortable letting people know what is going on in our life, because their shoulders would be just as heavy as ours, if not greater. Whether those issues are big or small, it does not matter. To be honest, I think almost everyone (I say almost, because I don't think my 18 month old or 3 year old have too many deep seeded issues just yet or any secret embarrassments.) has those big issues embedded deep in their hearts as well as the smaller ones floating a bit closer to the surface. If people were just allowed to see those things we try to hide.... or in some cases not try to hide, but just don't mention, then I feel people would be more understanding.

I was lead to think about this today when I went in to take my 3rd chemistry exam and received 70%, if I would have missed 1 more question it would have been 65%, which was my last score. Thoroughly depressed, I cried (because that's what I do with my grades, I cry about them.), then I became angry. Why does a testing center close on the people that are already in there?? what kind of jerk does that to a person?? They could have done better if they had more time and didn't close the doors at 9pm. I felt I could have done better if I didn't have to guess on my last 5 questions.Part of the 5 that I probably missed, I'm sure. After anger, I became discouraged and depressed again. How can I get into nursing school if I can't even pass a *$%^*#!! chemistry exam! It's multiple choice for crap's sake! I at least have a 25% chance of getting the question right and if I use a bit of reasoning I could raise those odds to almost 50% all the time. After running my emotions through the gambit, I stopped to think a bit.

I may have only gotten 70% on my exam, but no one will know why I received that score. That score is not fair to who I am. The exam before, was taken the day after I found out my dad was in the ICU and I was able to pull a 65% out of my scattered brain. And then I went to class with this same soup brain and tried to retain information I needed for my next exam. Which was taken today and only had 1 more right question than my last exam. No one knows that yesterday I studied as much as I could with my kids; and then I went on a walk to the park with my family and played in a little stream with my boys. No one knows that today I studied as much as I could as well. But that I decided that running through the sprinklers with my 18 month seemed like a better use of my time. That part doesn't show up on an exam. Or maybe unfortunately it only shows up in the negative ways.

When I apply to the nursing program and they look back at my grades and see that for my chemistry class that one semester back in 2010 I got a C (don't actually know that, that's just where this semester feels like it's headed.), they won't be impressed.

But I think they should be. I played with my children. I dedicated my hours to my studies when I could, but my family came first. My 18 month old was nice and wet AND laughing hysterically as he was swung through the sprinklers in my arms. My 3 year old got to help throw rocks into a little stream and watch the water dance and I got to watch his eyes widen in fascination with each plop.

My 70% reflects who I am more than anyone knows. Sadly, it often reflects a lack of understand of the course materials-- which in my case, that is partially true, however it seems to also reflect struggling, disinterest, or a blasé attitude toward academics.

Maybe if people just told those little, or big secrets, no misunderstandings would be had. Maybe a nursing school would actually look at that grade and go, "wow, she did all of that and still pulled off a C? We want someone with that kind of dedication in our program." Because that's what I am, dedicated, with a side of two little children.