almost on the water

Where everybody knows your name

2011-10-28T13:12:00.000-07:00

After a nearly sleepless Monday night, it was clearly time to take Miss Emma to the pediatrician. It was nearly sleepless for a variety of reasons, ranging from an attention-starved kitty who loves to knock things over to refilling the humidifier in the middle of the night while forgetting to plug the base (hellooooo 2 gallons of water leaking onto the carpet) but the worst of it all was a clearly uncomfortable and not consolable baby. Finally at the witching hour of 1am she got about 4 consecutive hours worth of much needed sleep.

Yes, this nurse mommy has a stethoscope and knew that Emma's lungs were clear...but with all the fuss she made flying flat and miserable bouts of crying at night, I felt like something was not quite right. So off to the pediatrician's we went, despite the fact that she was a pretty spunky, happy girl in the morning (far more happy than her parents, I assure you).

Ok time for a little waiting room griping--why ask a parent bringing in a sick kiddo to fill out....four pages of paperwork while waiting? Who has time to do that? Especially when all your sweet kiddo wants to do is be held so she can examine those fascinating fish?

So of course by the time they called Emma's name, I'm still madly scribbling. They don't actually send a person out to get you--the receptionist gives you a little card with a photo and a number, and you follow that photo set (plastered on the walls) until you get to the assigned room. Definitely a cost-saving measure, I'm sure.

I'm in the back of the waiting room, trying to finish up my 'homework' and tell the guy calling Emma's name that "I'll be there in a second."

Emma looks at me, looks at the receptionist and calmly toddles through the waiting room, The receptionist practically heaves himself onto his stomach to pass the card down to her over the high counter. Everyone in the waiting room just got real quiet and stared for a few minutes. Emma turns around and comes back to me card in hand with a great big smile on her face.

Yup, that's our girl--ever observant and aware. Keep in mind the last time we had been to the office was nearly 2 months ago and that was the first time they started using those corny "find sailboat number 3" cards.

And what was causing all the nighttime fuss? A small amount of fluid in her right ear (uninfected) and probably a result of the slow recovery she's had from a nasty cold/flu-like bug we all had at the end of September. I don't want to even imagine what the drama of a real ear infection might be like.

little bits

2011-02-21T11:10:00.001-08:00

Here's our little rabbit, almost 1 year old now (about 10 months when this photo was taken.)

I had all sorts of ideas spinning around for an exciting, all-new, hook-em-in blog post, and now I'm not sure where they went.

My one somewhat humorous observation for the week is that cat food is apparently enticing to everyone. Everyone being:
1) the cat
2) the dog and
3) the baby

Sophie knows she's not allowed in the kitchen (where we keep the cat food) Emma kind of knows...except she'll just grin at me over her shoulder when I tell her, "no babies in the kitchen!" Then she'll scoot her little keester as fast as she can over to that enchanting dish of kitty food, reach out her little chubby hand and....

Luckily this mama is still fast enough to move that kitty dish. For now, at least. We've had several incidents with the kitty's water bowl, but that's another story altogether.

All baby, no blog

2010-06-15T11:10:00.000-07:00

It's been a record-breaking blog hiatus, but things have been very sweet and well here at the Niculescu household. I'm thankful to report that this little girl is starting to get the hang of the sleeping thing, usually allowing us one 5-6 hour stretch of sleep at night. This makes the world look much kinder! (And allows time for things like blogging rather than napping.)

Baby Emma continues to delight, enchant, and amaze. Her latest trick is to grab her own belly the second the diaper comes off, turning it rosy shade of pink and giggling in the process. At 3 1/2 months she is holding up her own head. We can observe her daily discoveries--the movement of her hands, the delightful squishiness of her own feet, new sounds, new faces, new places, the list is endless. We can definitely see some preferences emerging: she would much rather stand than sit (of course with a bit of support under her arms), face out and say hello to the world than face in, be walked or rocked to sleep instead of chilling in her bassinette, and watch Layla the black kitty than Sophie the fuzzy dog.

While the majority of our news is baby-oriented we've managed to make a few small home improvements. Andrew's parents visited for about a week in May and spoiled us with a new couch and TV...we also (after many trips to JCPenney's which had hands-down the best selection of the many stores we tried) have graced our living room with curtains which instill a new sense of 'homey-ness'.

I think this photo about sums it up: Look, Ma, I've got hands! And fingers! The home improvements are also included in the background. :)

Two weeks, two cousins

2010-04-13T10:24:00.000-07:00

Remember this photo? Me pregnant at 25 weeks with gender unknown baby, my sister Bree at 21 weeks with a boy?

Now add another 15 or so weeks, another 15 or so pounds, a couple of trips to the hospital and...

Now you too can see what Grandma was all smiles about this Easter...turns out our little ones were born exactly 2 weeks apart. Cody Jay came a bit earlier than his due date because of his size. Due to all the baby-oohing and aahing, Bree and I never managed to get a photo together with our babes! Next time for certain...what fun it will be to see these two grow up together!

Bits o' baby alphabet

2010-03-16T02:13:00.000-07:00

A is for awake...

Emma's daytime alert periods are definitely increasing in length and frequency. Airbaths, short walks in our early spring weather, and normal water baths are some of her favorite 'awake' time activities so far.

B is for bullet...

As in 'baby mullet' or 'bullet' for short. Some day we'll get around to fixing that, when handling sharp objects is not quite so hazardous.

C is for cuddles and chocolate milk...

Although our life is sorely lacking in routine at the moment, we have managed to combine the amazing glass-bottled Twin Brook Creamery chocolate milk with our Keurig frother for...ta da! some truly delicious hot chocolate. This is the sweet nectar that allows two somewhat sleep-deprived parents to unwind at the beginning of another night in newborn-land. One of us is usually cuddling the miss Emma to sleep at the same time.

D is for Daddy...

One congratulatory email I received from a friend who recently gave birth to twin baby boys noted that it is amazing to watch as the husband 'becomes' the daddy...and I wholeheartedly agree! The way Andrew holds Emma, talks to her, comforts her when she is cranky, and generally just adores her--all these things melt my heart.

E is for 'eatey, eatey, eatey!'...

Emma has been growing ferociously! At her public health nurse check 3 days after discharge, her weight was down to 6 lb 4 oz. Then just 4 days later (after many 'sharkie' frenzy feeding nights) she weighed in at 6 lb 13 oz...that is 9 oz in 4 days, which explains why this mama felt like that girl was ALWAYS eating... "Eatey, eatey, eatey" is also what I coax Emma to do when she is a bit sleepy at the breast...

F is for 'furry nanny'...

We think Sophie is adjusting well to sharing attention with the little miss. She is often noted to 'guard' our upstairs bedroom/nursery from crazy kitties and is almost always quite interested in what we are doing with the little miss.

G is for...I have to go now! :) Time for me to eat as baby will be waking up soon...hopefully will be posting more often as Emma grows and becomes more accustomed to a diurnal life.

Daily photos available on my flickr site.

Welcoming miss Emma Sophia

2010-03-11T09:17:00.000-08:00

It is with great love and joy in our hearts that we share with you the news of our daughter's arrival at 3.52 pm March 4th at the University of Washington Medical Center. The labor was long and exhausting as it began around Tuesday evening with a Wednesday evening admit to the hospital. (Now we know why Emma was a bit late, she was giving Mommy a chance to rest up!) When my thoughts have settled a bit, I do intend to blog about her birth.

Aside from the use of pitocin to encourage stronger contractions it was an unmedicated birth. We were rewarded with a darling baby girl weighing 6 lb, 8 oz who nursed immediately following birth and was very watchful of the new world around her for quite some time. (In other words, she watched us and we, in awe, watched her. And may have changed a diaper or two in the process :)

We decided to discharge home early, which was Friday evening. She is nursing well, letting us sometimes sleep for as much as a luxurious 2 hours at a time overnight and is steadily adjusting to this new world. We are becoming acquainted with our little lady and have already given her a few nicknames which speak volumes of the personality shining through this little being:

"Sharkie" for the nighttime feeding frenzies (see above, looks cute but WATCH OUT!)
"Miss Poopenmeyer" for the funny faces she makes while making poo

"Angel" for the angelic sleeping faces.

Thank you for all of your heartfelt congratulations, home-made dinners, baby items and shared excitement in our new adventure as a family. Attached are a few of our favorite photos so far... We will be posting daily photos on flickr, raecgirl is my username if you'd like to see them just request to be my friend. Also, occasional updates will be available on my blog, www.raeniculescu.com.

With love and Emma baby coos,

Andrew, Rae, and Emma

Thought for the day...”The first cry of a newborn baby in Chicago or Zamboango, in Amsterdam or Rangoon, has the same pitch and key, each saying “I am! I have come through! I belong! I am a member of the Family!”.”

--Carl Sandburg

Last of the nesting days

2010-03-02T18:30:00.000-08:00

My official due date just passed yesterday and our little bear (or "spoonie" as Andrew has started to call baby) has been a little shy to just yet make an appearance. The encouraging news at my 40 week + 1 day check up today was that my body has already begun some of the preparation for labor, including a significant bit of dilation (2.5cm) and effacement. My last official day of work was February 19th and I have been so, so grateful for this extra bit of time to settle into a rhythm at home, rest more, and just play a little before our days transform into newborn-land.

I'm also grateful to be still relatively comfortable in this final stage of pregnancy. I did have some terrible back/sacral pain starting about 3 weeks ago which seemed to coincide with baby dropping deeper into the pelvis. It seems like in the past 3 days that has finally started to alleviate. I suspect not sitting at a desk for 5-6 hours a day, naptime whenever I please, looser joints from all those pregnancy hormones, and twice weekly massage has been immensely helpful! Does this look like the face of a miserable past-due pregnant lady to you? :)

So, what is an almost-mommy to be doing with the last of her nesting in days? Let's see....time has been spent introducing Sophie to baby toys (that also appear suspiciously like her very favorite B-A-L-L-S)

Catching up with friends and family, the most lovely gathering recently being that with my Mom, Auntie V. Unfortunately little sister Bree missed out on this one, due to the appearance of Bell's Palsy a few days ago. (We are all expecting a full recovery for her, but I think we'd all agree this recent turn of events is just a drag in more ways than one.)

The best part of enjoying tea with the ladies is usually aahing over the pretty teacups and of course, dessert! None of us quite had the appetite for the full tea service, but we did order a nice dessert sampler...which still (as lovely as it looked and tasted) was not the best part.

The best part was being served tea by Aunt Victoria, whom as many of you know was involved in a near fatal accident Sept. 2008 with multiple, severe fractures, internal injuries, a bruised heart-just an overwhelming list of injuries. Despite many serious conversations with the excellent physicians at Harborview about the possibility of having to fuse her elbow, today that elbow is a functional! (she will always have weight-lifting limitations, but you have to imagine we thought initially she was facing--at best--a fused elbow for the rest of her life)

And here she is today, our family's very own miracle, in more ways than one:
The more domestic side of nesting in has, of course, been full of preparations for baby. I won't bore with you with all the mundane details...but I will give a shout-out here to my patient friend Jenna, and her sewing tutelage which enabled me to finally finish a very simple pillowcase which will serve as our third basinette sheet. I guess with these babies things tend to get, ahem....messy from time to time!

I've also been doing quite a bit of knitting and a few baking endeavours, but that will be a topic for a different kind of post! Thanks to fellow blogger/college friend Deanna and her idea of OPAW (one project a week) I have been inspired to finish a few more things lately.

So, until next time friends...wishing for a smooth delivery and more stories to share with you all soon.

Let's not forget

2010-02-07T17:44:00.000-08:00

While packing my bag for the hospital, I realized there were some essential items I couldn't stash away until that much anticipated time of night or day day comes since I used said items on a daily basis. So I waddled downstairs to make myself a 'don't forget' list.

When I came back up, this is the sight that greeted me:

I imagine the conversation went something like this...

Sophie: I've been smelling some strange things around here lately...and notice how Rae never takes me out anymore? It's like...I get Andrew ALL THE TIME. And I actually have to behave when he takes me out. And when she does take me out, we go sooooo slow.

Layla: Yeah, I know...and did you notice how big her belly is? It's sooo nice to cuddle up to. I wish Andrew had a big belly like that too. Actually, there's some stuff in here that's pretty soft, but it's way to small for either one of our humans.

Sophie: Maybe you better scout it out for us....

Layla: That's exactly what I intend to do....

Almost like twins

2010-01-21T18:26:00.000-08:00

I have neglected this blog terribly, but for very good reasons, let me assure you! And in no particular order, they are...

1) We've spent the past month or so used car shopping from private sellers, and now have a nice 2006 Toyota Sienna to tote around our new baby and furry baby Sophie. Many thanks to some very generous help from my Dad, or else we'd be driving a much older and head-ache inducing vehicle.
2) We've taken 2 snowy trips to Leavenworth and this pregnant lady managed to snow-shoe--on flat ground, nothing dramatic here--for about an hour and actually enjoy the event. I think Sophie enjoyed it the most out of the 3 of us.

3) I've taken up knitting again and have made several cute baby hats. I believe my 2nd grade knitting teacher (scary old Mrs Scott, who smelled like mothballs and garlic) would be proud of this endeavour.

4) My baking obsession lately has been cupcakes, cupcakes, and more cupcakes...basically trying to replicate as closely as possible the famed yumminess and prettiness of Trophy. I think I'm getting pretty darn close. Some of my esteemed taste-testers are beginning to agree.

And finally, probably the most intriguing tidbit of all--no, we're not having twins, but almost. My little sister, Bree, is due to deliver a big ol' baby boy about a month after me. As you can imagine our parents (as first-time grandparents) are completely astounded at this turn of events.

If you don't believe me, here's the proof!

A little friendly belly competition, I am at 25 weeks, Bree is at 21 weeks.

And we're both just smiles for the camera here...future Grandaddy is working that Nikon.
Lastly, here's the most recent belly shot, taken in the same outfit just for comparison's sake...this is me at 31 weeks. And now I'm 34 nearly 35 weeks so guess it's time for yet another photo...

And that's all for now, folks....next time I get around to posting, at the rate I'm going...it might be more baby-centric than ever. :) Just don't say I didn't warn you.

About the belly...

2009-11-04T07:27:00.001-08:00

Sticking it out
Originally uploaded by raecgirl

It's week 23 and it has now undeniably popped out. I experienced my first near-stranger belly touching encounter just a few days ago, so I guess yep, it's finally official that I appear to be with child. I used to be a bit incredulous whenever I witnessed this as an outsider, but I actually don't mind. I totally get that it's exciting, even if you have no clue who I am or will not be coming over to make food, change diapers, or do laundry.

I would normally be the sort of person to be photographically documenting this momentous expansion but something about recently being sick, then back to work, and in the midst of many small home renovation projects (with our computer stations very disrupted ) has made regular blogging (and photographing!) a near impossibility.

SO, dear patient readers, I leave you with this one from September. Yes, terrible, I know... I think I am at 14 weeks and my friend Jen at 16 weeks. You'll notice that I'm trying (unsuccessfully) to appear equally belly-licious.

Now I can finally issue a challenge to Jen for a rematch. Just hop on a plane, will ya? =) More photos to come when our computer situation is improved...

Just call me "Heeney"

2009-10-18T11:00:00.000-07:00

I think I'm ready for the drama in my life to stop...like, yesterday. I am perfectly content with a quiet life, thank you very much.

"Heeney" is my new nickname, it is Andrew's phonetic rendition of "H1N1" and yes, I found out on Saturday I am positive for the swine flu, which is much more risky for pregnant women according to the CDC. (As if there aren't ENOUGH things to worry about when you're pregnant, right?)

My symptoms began Tuesday night with just some general body aches (not uncommon for me during the past month as my belly has started to expand a little) and a mild headache. The following morning it was evident I most definitely had a cold--nasal congestion and a bit of a cough so I bundled up on the sofa with my chamomile tea and took the day off work.

However, this seeming 'cold' was nowhere near as awful as the vile cold that knocked me on my butt in August for about a week, so I didn't think much of it. By Thursday I was calling the midwife clinic to get clearance to go back to work on Monday, and when they found out I had one episode of fever 100.9F I was asked to come into the office the following day...my nasal swab definitely showed I was positive.

Fortunately I am doing fine today except for still a bit of a cough, and baby has checked out ok. And, perhaps the best news is that I will now develop my own natural immunity to the dreaded swine flu which will allow me to avoid the whole vaccination debacle. (suspension of mercury restrictions)

Going back to my tea, rest, and other pathways to good health...

I (heart)

2009-10-06T19:05:00.000-07:00

Maybe this has something to do with the rosy glow of being pregnant and in the 'honeymoon' of the 2nd trimester, but there are some things I am just so grateful for lately and had to share. These are the things that make my heart sparkle these days...

little tiny taps and flutters that mean yes, there is a real live child growing inside me.

beautiful fall days perfect for evening walks with Sophie and enjoying colorful sunsets (yes, even in the city)

working with a different team of highly efficient, team-oriented doctors and the same fabulous team of nurses

the delighted look on the faces of children and sometimes even adults when they catch a glimpse of our live teddy bear (Sophie) in the backseat of our car

the cute way in which Andrew will ask "how is the belly (baby) today?"

What are you grateful for today?

Where did it go?

2009-09-17T18:25:00.000-07:00

Summer time is so elusive. Almost as elusive as blogging time. Here's a few picture so perhaps you'll understand why.

We joined the Verdan family for an early August Ocean Shores trip. No car camping this time, we shamelessly mooched the luxury of a time-share along with the usual eating-fest. Did I mention we were almost eaten by a shark? Well not exactly...but there was the requisite tacky tourist store with a funky shark that made a great photo op...except my so-called subjects weren't very cooperative, were they?

It wasn't too difficult to talk Drea into some ferocious Jaws-like action, except the shark sorta got cut out of the picture. Oh well.

We were fortunate to have one sunny day and took advantage of the outdoor swimming pool and hottub. Andrew took this a step further by surfing as I eyed him like a hawk from the shore, cell phone poised in hand. It is a relatively safe area for surfing, but I have a worst-case-scenario obsessed mind. Drea was more than happy to distract me with girlie talk and yummy snacks. Unfortunately we are yet to get a telescopic lens (Christmas hint, anyone?) for our Nikon so I have no rockin' real surfing action photos.

Evening brought about the usual Verdan-eating fest, but they really outdid themselves this time. Here's Drea, the smiling cook whipping up some delicious cream sauce for bacon-wrapped trout and her Dad prepping short ribs for the grill...

All of this activity resulted in quite a feast..succulent Kalbi short ribs, bacon-wrapped trout in sundried-tomato cream sauce, creamy mashed potatoes, grilled salmon. A girl could get used to eating like this!

Of course the day after such an extravagant meal, we went on a morning beach walk. Unfortunately it was more than a little wet. Andrew and Drea saw fit to pay homage to Sophie by chasing birds....And I saw a fitting opportunity to creatively reveal some exciting news...

Dental Office Humor Gone Awry...

2009-07-27T08:44:00.000-07:00

I never used to mind going to the dentist. To me, it was a brief episode of wearing a funny bib, over-sized glasses, and relaxing in comfy chair while my teeth were prodded and then finally polished.... Not too bad of a reason to leave school or work early.

But as we all know, most good things are not to last. A few years ago I became the not-so-proud owner of my first cavity (and since then a couple more molars have succumbed) and sadly my formerly rosy dental relationship is now scarred forever.

I know there's dozens of pop-culture references to sadistic dentists although the only one that comes to mind at the moment is Steve Martin in Little Shop of Horrors. While what I discovered in my dentist's office is not quite as outrageous, I still thought their choice of dixie cups was a bit, ahem...inappropriate.

Let's examine said artifact, shall we?

The tooth on the far left is smiling serenely as it's being...what, polished? I think that's ok, being polished is not so traumatic, right?

Let's move onto the tooth in the middle. It is looking overjoyed at something that resembles a tiny auger that has not yet touched its surface. Hmm...

And it gets better! Let's rotate the cup a bit and see what more goodness is in store for us.

Ooooo-kay. So now we have something that can only resemble a probe scraping some cutesy-ladylike tooth with long, girly eyelashes. I don't know about you, but if I see a sharp, pointed object directed at me I'm going to be most unladylike and get the bleep outta there.

Like a curious kitty-cat, Andrew became interested in what I was doing and saw fit to attempt a rather inappropriate gesture toward the camera. My thoughts exactly, honey. These cups can take it and shove it!

Let's blame it on the weather

2009-07-18T18:31:00.000-07:00

Once Seattle turned warm and sunny in early June (much to everyone's delight and surprise) this little ol' blog no longer held much of a draw for me. Perhaps these photos can tell you why....

Layla learned to play kitty chess, here she contemplates her move...

And then presents her ingenious chess strategy! (The chess set was a gift from my Mom to Andrew for his birthday, but now you can see who it really was for.)

The summer hiking season has officially started, enabling us to see places like this--beautiful lower Bridal Veil Falls...

and take short breaks in cool and loamy forests...

After a long trek up , up, up many rocks and winding stairs, we were rewarded with a beautiful alpine lake and some hot miso soup for lunch.

This is also where crazy dogs otherwise known as Sophie go swimming. Let me point out--3/4 of this lake was still under snow cover! She came out one chilly dog.

We've also been catching up with family and friends. On one of my Mondays off (love, love, having every other Monday off. It's amazing how smugly luxurious one can feel lounging in bed until 0830, knowing the rest of the city is gearing up to work the day away) we journeyed down to Puyallup to catch up with my ever-busy little sis and meet her beautiful new horse, Charlotte.

If you think it looks like the horse is snuggling Bree, it's true, she really is! She's a very gentle, curious 4 year old whom my sister has only trained since February.

Bree took pity on us poor horsie amateurs and let us each have a turn around the arena. This would be approximately Andrew's first time ever on a horse and perhaps my 12th or so; however my first in many years since sneaking out at night to trot down to the beach with Necia and her horses.

If you're smitten and would like to see more of Charlotte, try my flickr site. Hopefully we'll be seeing much more of her over the years, as she is by far the sweetest horse my sister has ever been involved with.

So now that this formerly cloud-and-rain soaked Seattlelite girl has finally absorbed enough vitamin D and satisfactory outdoor adventures to at least account for some of our months of gloom, my blogging updates should be more faithful and regular.

Two steps forward, one step back...

2009-06-01T15:43:00.000-07:00

This appears to be the theme today. And here's what I did that made me think this way since I'm sure you're clamoring to know:

1. Purchased two birthday cards, one for a birthday in about 2 weeks, another for a birthday at the end of the month. Came home and found out that birthday girl no 1's cat just died, and birthday card is very cat-centric. Oopsies. Guess I'll have to pick out a different card.

2. Took Sophie with me on multiple little errands at the U Village. We wove in and out of stores including the treacherous Fireworks (lots of break-able at nose height) and she impressed dubious store-owners frequently. I felt quite smug about having such a well-trained dog and loved being able to take her with me on a rather hot day when there's no safe possibility of staying in the car. On our walk up the hill from the condo parking spot, took her off leash and she galloped towards a little tiny girl who just toddled around the corner. Despite my call to have her come back to me. Sophie circled the little kid before turning around. She didn't knock the kid over or anything like that, but the girl looked pretty spooked and Sophie's previous stellar obedience took a little nose-dive in my (now humbled) opinion.

3. Made a quick grocery run this morning for bread and breakfast staples. Was inspired to purchase the makings of a BBQ--steak, corn, and watermelon--but realized when I came home that we were out of charcoal. And when I finally purchased the charcoal, I got the wrong kind. I didn't know there were right and wrong kinds, but there you go. That's why Andrew usually does that stuff.

Overall these are minor things but a good reminder that I'm quite far from perfect. A few years ago I probably would have thrown up my hands and been irritated at myself, but I think I've grown up a bit. Today's a beautiful day that's meant to be enjoyed--despite steps backwards or not--that is exactly what I intend to do.

Ladies of the Sky

2009-05-25T10:47:00.000-07:00

A few years ago, I was caring for one of those truly lovely elderly ladies who had just managed to land herself in the hospital for a few days. It was on or very near to D-Day and she was part of the generation where that day was a defining moment in her life. She also (as it turned out) had been a pilot for the US Air Corps.

At first when she told me this I thought to myself....Uh oh, time to get out the haldol...but since she was sharp as a tack in every other way and passed a quick mental status check, I eventually realized that she wasn't joking!

Here's an interesting read for your Memorial Day consideration, in recognition of the little-known female WW-2 pilot.

She might sink

2009-05-13T07:13:00.000-07:00

On a recent stereotypically overcast day, Andrew and I were with Sophie in the park. There's only one thing Sophie loves just as much as chasing a ball and that is swimming to get the ball. (Do you notice a theme here?)

Andrew was lobbing the tennis ball into Lake Washington to the delight of Sophie when a little brunette girl approached him who looked a bit serious for her age....She couldn't have been more than five years old.

She slowly looked up at him and inquired, "Hey mister, is that your dog? What's her name?"

Andrew responded "Yup, that's my dog and her name is Sophie."

She slowly twirled around to contemplate Sophie in the water, curling some strands of hair around her finger. Sophie was steadfast in her enthusiasm to get to the ball before the black retriever that seemed to be racing her and still had about 15 feet to swim before reaching the ball. The little miss took this all in while slowly turning back to us and said, "You know, that's kind of far for a dog to swim."

With just a hint of a smile, Andrew reassured her, "Oh, she's a strong dog and this is what she likes to do. She's gone for much further and longer than this before."

The little girl put on hand on her hip, scrunched up her nose and little bit and sputtered, "Well, well...you shouldn't make the dog go that far...she might get tired and sink!"

Andrew's eyes twinkled as he responded, "It's ok, she likes this. You don't need to worry."

All that got him was a "Hmmmmf" and an abrupt turn on her plastic green boots. She returned to the felled tree on which she'd previously been playing.

You just never know when you might get unsolicited advice from a curious little kid.

While you were away

2009-05-04T17:55:00.000-07:00

Don't you ever wonder what happens when you leave your pets at home? For a while after we got Sophie, I noticed every now and then a single sock would appear in some corner of the apartment--but I also could never catch her in the act. I finally caught the kitty toting a sock in her mouth (!) I suppose Sophie's ball carrying antics made quite the impression on Layla.

On our recent trip to Toronto to visit Andrew's parents, we left the princess kitty in the care of a generous neighbor and Sophie went off to "Camp Alice"with our wonderful dog-sitter Lydia.

Now we finally have some evidence of Sophie's activities in our absence. Apparently she has been consorting with "Flat Stanley" as you can see in the following pieces of evidence:

Chilling in the cedar branches is a necessary leisure-time activity in the life on Sophie (on the left) and Dave (on the right). Notice the frisbee is generously being shared with Flat Stanely, it's original colour was yellow but now it's going for the 3-day-old banana look.I'm certain Sophie and Dave were rewarded with dog cookies after the picture, but you have to wonder...what the heck is in it for Stanley?

Someone should have let poor Flat Stanley know that a tie is not quite suitable canine-friendly attire! I hope Flat Stanley enjoyed dirty tennis balls every bit as much as Sophie. The children who wrote back in response to Lydia's letter detailing the adventures of Sophie and Dave were primarily immigrant kids from Mexico--their most frequent question had to do with commenting on the enormous size of these dogs and wasn't Flat Stanley scared?

I'm not sure how Lydia answered that one, but we can all rest assured that Flat Stanley returned home intact but likely in need of a hot bath. :)

Eventually

2009-04-30T18:59:00.000-07:00

The days are getting longer and warmer so my evenings have been full of activities other than blogging....today the weather was tantalizingly beautiful and unfortunately the commute home was nothing short of nightmarish. I was officially out of work at 4:50 and officially home at 6:47pm. Something is very, very wrong with that!

So here I am trying to come up with some sort of birthday plans for my soon-to-be-3o year old sweetie, who doesn't really much celebrate birthdays but I can't let this one slip by... Why are men so difficult to shop for? I'm thinking of a simple gathering of friends at a local restaurant and then closer to his real birthday, a little surprise....but exactly what, I have not the slightest (I have all sorts of incredibly expensive ideas, but sadly our little budget can't accommodate any of the more lavish options at the moment.)

Unwittingly reduced to potty humor

2009-04-11T10:15:00.000-07:00

At the end of the work day yesterday, I had to track down some lab work a patient of ours was supposed to have dropped off at an external lab facility. So I dialed 'em up and got placed on hold for about 5 minutes. I had even pressed the 'for doctor's only' line!

While waiting I daydreamed about the great food we'd had for lunch earlier that day. Since it was the fellow's birthday about a week ago we all snuck across the street to ILOVE SUSHI for a quick celebration. I wound up forsaking my usual nigiri-sushi order for a dragon roll which sounded (and was) fantastic with salty mackerel, creamy avocado, and a tempura-shrimp center.

So there I was on hold thinking yummy sushi-type thoughts. Finally someone answered and I blurted out: "Hi, this is Rae Niculescu RN from the Cancer Center...I am checking on Mrs. Appleby's labs, did she drop off a stool sampler today?"--at this point, I sputtered...."wait, I mean...stool sample?" It was too late, the damage had already been done.

My coworker sitting at the desk next to me started guffawing...I cracked up while also apologizing and reading off Mrs Appleby (not her real name) birthdate. Pretty soon everyone in the office was literally clutching their sides and rolling around in their office chairs. Is there an acronym for that one? (not exactly ROTFLMAO-funny but pretty darn close)

And there I was, still on the phone, struggling to control my simultaneous embarassment and laughter as this poor lady searches through her info despite the uproar in the background. She eventually confirmed that Mrs Appleby had not delivered the expected item.

::Sigh::

That was my unintentional prank call of the day. Clearly food and work (at least my line of work) are an unsavory combination.

a welcome reprieve

2009-04-04T08:15:00.000-07:00

The sunshine is greeting me this morning and it is the most beautiful thing I've seen in days!

Ideas for blog posts have been circulating about in my head, but the evenings have been either too busy or unfortunately gobbled up by the overtime at work monster to result in much blogging success this week.

This place will become more interesting again and quite soon! I promise.

But for now, enjoying the sunshine and a nice cuppa earl grey tea with lavendar is on the agenda. Hope your weekend is off to a lovely start!

Snapshot

2009-03-24T19:16:00.000-07:00

QUESTIONS:
1. What is your first name?
Rae

2. What is your favorite food?
So hard to chose because there's so many! Lately I have been craving noodles.

3. What is your hometown?
Seattle, WA

4. What is your favorite color?
Red

5. What is your favorite movie?
Spirited Away

6. What is your favorite drink?
A double-tall latte with creamy foam.

7. What is your dream vacation?
Perpetual and possibly never-ending: one that goes on for as along as I want and not according to how many vacation days I am 'allotted' by the biig boss.

8. What is your favorite dessert?
Fran's triple chocolate cake. Flourless and just divine--sadly they stopped making these about 4 years ago...even though I believe the recipe has now been published I haven't yet attempted it.

9. What is one word to describe yourself?
Thoughtful

10. How are you feeling right now?
Head-achy, I probably shouldn't even be blogging!

11. What do you love most in the world?
The opportunity to be alive and make the most of each day...

12. What do you want to be when you grow up?
Continually inspired.

I'm not going to tag anyone, but if you are interested here's the scoop:

Want to do this, too? Go to Google image search.
- Type in your answer to each question.
- Choose a picture from the first 3 images.
- Use this website (http://bighugelabs.com/flickr/mosaic.php) to make your collage.
- Save the image for use in this note.
- Post and tag all your friends.

it's official, not much has changed

2009-03-19T19:50:00.000-07:00

There's a certain anniversary looming this summer...and I can't ignore it any longer cause I just received word that little Stanwood High School class of 1999 is holding reunion festivities this year. You can head on over to here and get the full scoop.

As you can clearly see I was a big nerd then and have continued to be so now....although I no longer wear tie-dyed shirts, thankfully. This is yours truly and Miss Niki (who is now expecting her first little one) at the National Science Olympiad in Chicago, Illinois. All the junk is basically our prized booty from the national 'swap' meet--me with my South Dakota sunflower bobblers and Niki with the ever-coveted cow. Unfortunately for us Washington state was pretty lame for donating trading gear, apple-shaped keychains and samples of Mt St Helen's ash can only go so far.

famous last words

2009-03-14T09:15:00.001-07:00

Over the past few years I've had multiple friends, co-workers etc. tell me how great various on-line social networks are...and I casually waved them away saying, "Oh yeah...I have a blog and the last thing I need to do is waste more time on the internet."

After catching up with my college girlfriend Jen on the phone last week (who is in MAUI right now, lucky girl) I could resist no longer. I had to see what all the fuss was about. I had no idea how easily I would become sucked into the vortex...

Oh look, it's like twitter but fully matured! And oh, look...see all these people I haven't spoken to since high school--and would you have imagined that this girl would marry that guy even though they never dated in high school...aww how sweet....Holy cow, this formerly player-girlfriend-of-the-hour boy settled down and has an adorable family! What's that, Miss L who was one of the top nursing students is now a musician living in Los Angeles? Sweet.

Hmm....something's popped up here...a quiz invitation? And you think you're smarter than me? Methinks not!

And on, and on, and on it goes. ::sigh:: I've had to dose myself like a junkie on a limited budget but sadly my little bloggity blog here has suffered. I'll have to invent an exit strategy...and soon!

There is a gastronomic heaven

2009-03-07T09:51:00.000-08:00

Despite the new PHRMA rules, it appears not all free drug-rep sponsored dinners are verboten. And in this economy, if you have a gourmet appetite but a McD's sort of budget, this is a good thing.

I've gone to very few, select pharmaceutical dinners that most applied to my practice and were geared towards patient education and symptom management of gastrointestinal cancers. I think I've attended about 4 in totality in the 6 years I've been a nurse. But when the opportunity came along to go to the infamous Canlis (which I have never been) even though the topic--febrile neutropenia and growth factor use--is a bit less relevant to my patient population, I couldn't resist. I simply had just heard far too many amazing things and I had to confirm the truth of such food porn.

From the first step inside to the last bite of dessert Canlis did not disappoint. The food served had perfect texture, temperature, taste, presentation....(I just ate a large breakfast but am now salivating just thinking of it!) From the delicate little prawn saute in a spoon appetizers, to the grilled mahi-mahi with mango coulis, to the molten chocolate dessert, it was fabulous. The service is superb as well. Servers appear out of nowhere--kind of like a covert attack--except...they deliver much-anticipated food to all your dinner-mates simultaneously instead of raining down deadly blows.

What I truly can't stop thinking about is that molten chocolate dessert ::drool:: The idea of serving a molten chocolate cake with burnt cream and then juxtaposed with a dollop of chocolate ice cream dipped in 3 layers of chocolate is pure genius. And the result is heavenly. Unfortunately I cannot find a suitable photo for you (dear readers who are by now quite hungry) of this amazing concoction.

Guess that means I'll have to go back soon!

Writing helps me deal with sh#t

2009-03-03T21:46:00.000-08:00

No matter how warm-n-cozy I have become with discussing death and dying with my patients, there are some days when it still just really, really sucks. There's every reason in the world to believe that stopping treatment is the right thing to do, that will alleviate unnecessary suffering, so on and so forth.

But today I just can't hack it. I have taken care of this person from the moment they heard the words "cancer" and "malignant". I have seen the ravages of the chemotherapy on his body and the weightiness of his illness preying upon his tender-hearted soul. We celebrated and did the happy dance together when his scans started looking better and his tumor markers came down. Then I received phone calls from his home where he was having difficulty breathing and called an ambulance to take him to the hospital. When the oncologist discussed stopping treatment, I came in the room next to discuss hospice. For the last days of his life, all he wants to do is to be able to visit his children and it looks like he may not even be well enough to manage that.

I told him we would try our best and I reassured him that he had truly given it everything he had..When it gets to this point, many patients ask in an almost child-like way, they want to know--Didn't we do enough? Didn't I try hard enough? If I stop, am I giving up on hope? On a miracle?

I hate when people talk about 'fighting' cancer, it simplifies things far too much and the connotations with 'winners' and 'losers' psychologizes something we have no control over whatsoever. This is not a game, this is not a war, this is someone's life. And if it is meant to end, it will end. None of us can 'win' the fight against the 'end' of our life, no matter what that ending is. We can just appreciate what we have at this very moment.

Life is sometimes so seemingly unfair to the kindest, good-est sort of people which just makes it all the more unbearable to witness. I just trust and pray that it all makes sense in the end, even if not to me.

And so, it's days like this that make me write poetry crap and post it on my blog and hope that it purges the sadder thoughts.

This road is sighing, my old friend.
The sun is waning and the dusk air is chill.
The nightingale sings of our blessings as if reminding us to savor each moment that is still meant to be.

(Be not afraid) the inevitable divide
as this familiar road disappears into the shadowed valley where we can no more walk together.

The tiredness that grips your bones and the nighttime air which spirits your breath
cannot extinguish the glowing flame which I will know always to be your heart.

$8.61 confessions

2009-02-28T11:18:00.000-08:00

This number represents the grand total (so far) of things I have accidentally and unknowingly stolen during my life. Some years ago Andrew and I stopped at a Safeway in BC on our Toronto to Vancouver road trip. I rifled through a magazine that was posted at the cashier's station called "Safeway Gourmet" with contained recipes and advertisements for Safeway brand products. I liked a few of the recipes, so I tucked it under my arm as Andrew paid for the groceries and off we went.

As soon as we got in the car, Andrew smiled a bit and said--"Oh you're smooth. I didn't know you were into lifting magazines. Didn't you see how that cashier was staring you down?"

At first, I thought he was kidding me. Who ever heard of paying for a magazine with mostly Safeway product advertisements and a handful of recipes? And wouldn't the cashier had said something? In disbelief I searched the magazine up and down for an indicator of a price tag and finally found the hefty cost of 99 Canadian cents.

Guilty as charged. But we were already on the road and had a schedule to keep. So off we drove. For a grocery chain which I frequently shop, I just couldn't wrack up any guilt over 99 cents whatsoever. Besides, the cashier clearly saw me with the magazine--so why didn't she say anything or ring it into the sale? I honestly had not a clue it was for purchase.

Fast forward to a few weeks ago--Andrew and I are perusing the household goods section of City People's Mercantile which is filled with all sorts of both interesting (stationery, kitchen gadgets, cutesy bath goods) and practical (door mats, basic hardware supplies, etc) goodies. In the midst of our shopping, a friend I hadn't spoken to in quite some time called me and I chatted with her while following Andrew around. I had one of the items on our list (bath mat 'dots') in my hand. I stood within 5 feet of Andrew as he paid and we both left the store. I was still yakking with my girlfriend up until we arrived at home.

As we we exited the car, Andrew saw me with the package of bath mat dots still in my hand and started cracking up. "Andrew, you did pay for these, didn't you?" And since he was still laughing I realized then that he hadn't paid for them or didn't realize I was still carrying them. Or maybe he just likes to torture me.

So yesterday I sheepishly went back to the store and paid for said item while leaving (this time) empty-handed. Might I point out that as I walked out of the store the first time this item was not tucked under my arm or concealed in ANY WAY WHATSOEVER--I was holding them like an offering in my left hand, plain as day for anyone and everyone to see. I also had to walk by 3 cashier counters in order to get to the exit of the store.

I guess if the economic downturn weasels it way into nursing jobs it looks like I may have a promising (albeit illegal) back-up career!

Daily signs of nursey-ness

2009-02-19T18:24:00.000-08:00

We all know what we do while we're at work. It's the things that spill into your daily life that remind you you're a nurse when you...

1) Wrap your dog's hurt paw in coban--or repair your husband's accidental kitchen knife thumb cut with steri-strips.
2) Barely manage to remember to take your single multivitamin while you tell your patients ALL the time to remember to take their 20-gazillion meds as prescribed.
3) Use alcohol pads for spot-cleaning.
4) Own more comfy, practical shoes than your grandmother and mother combined.
5) Never pass up an opportunity for the wonder drug otherwise known as CHOCOLATE.
6) Wish you had an ativan air wick in your bedroom for those restless nights.
7) After a really long day, hear call bells in your dreams.
8) Get excited over perfect strangers with big, sexy veins.
9) Have been to more 5-star restaurants with big pharma as your date than your spouse.
10) Use a paper towel to open public restroom doors. (egads, remember from your school days the plethora of germs that can be swabbed in public places? I can't forget that. And all those patients you've had to remind to wash their hands after using the toilet? Yeech. )

I'm curious--which work habits have you cultivated (be you a nurse or otherwise) that have crept into your daily life? And do they make you look cuck-oo? I definitely get some strange looks for the paper-towel door handle thing.

the nocturnal pooper

2009-02-16T18:29:00.000-08:00

One of the joys of city-dog ownership is waking up at some ungodly hour of the night to take your furry friend to the loo. Trudging out your front door in the wee smas in your jammies and warmest jacket is everybody's favorite nocturnal hobby. Friends with little babies tell me this is good practice for child-rearing. I'm not so sure. Sophie is a particularly good dog and wakes me up gently just by placing her head on the bag and wagging furiously....but it still is a rather unwelcome interruption to sleep!

Unfortunately, the fact remains that every now and then, no matter how regular you are with the pre-bedtime potty run, the doggie gets the runs.. And this was exactly the case about a week ago, when my cold was at its prime and being exposed to cold air a guarantee of a coughing fit.

So fortunately, my darling husband assumed the unexpected night duty. Coming back to bed, he muttered "Dog...you need a diaper!"

Me, still half-asleep, giggled at the thought and said..."Uh...honey, I don't think Sophie would put up with that for one minute...." Suddenly it occurred to me that Andrew, with his only-child background and no cousin childhood probably had never even had to touch a diaper. I did what had to be done to confirm my suspicions. I asked...."Honey, have you ever even changed a diaper?".

Andrew snickered and said, "Well, now we know what you're here for!".

I think I managed to whack him with my pillow (as I couldn't think of a suitable retort) before drifting off to dreamland.

Buckley's

2009-02-10T21:06:00.000-08:00

You may think of "Buckley's" as the name of a beer , that pub in Queen Anne, or that cute dog that was unfortunately run over by the drug-addled Owen Wilson in the last part of The Royal Tennebaums. Unfortunately the "Buckley's" which I happen to intimately familiar with Buckley's of Canada, which is none of the previously mentioned agreeably cute or appetizing things. This little bottle o'juice is keeping my psychotic cough somewhat contained so I can sleep at night. It is a white, pancake-batter consistency liquid whose taste reminds me of (simultaneously) the odors of pine-sol, charcoal, and something else that is indescribably vile.

All cough syrup is noxious, right? Well at least most of them try to have some semblance of 'flavor' and add a little sugar in to Marry Poppin-ize the entire deal.

Not Buckley's.

Andrew introduced me to the little-known Canadian secret that is Buckley's before we were married and spent weekends either in White Rock or Seattle. It was probably an act of sheer desperation, I imagine his thoughts at the time went something like..."if I have to put up with that cough through another night, she's sleeping in the trunk of my car or off to the drugstore we go ASAP." Like any proud Canadian product, Buckley's contains the genuinely Canadian ingredient of Canada Balsam, yummm. (Also known as TURPENTINE people...I am guzzling trace amounts of turpentine to maintain my sleeping sanity) It does bring a soothing warmth to your throat--kind of the same effect as kicking back a hot toddy but sans alcohol.

I am so looking forward to the end of my kleenex toting, tea-guzzling, and Buckley swigging nights.

Where have you been all my life?

2009-02-04T19:48:00.000-08:00

Ah, succulent fruit with a perfect balance of juiciness, sweetness (but not too sweet) and a bit of tang....how obsessed I am with thee! Let me count the many ways...

69 calories only
22mg of calcium
12 sections to nibble upon
5 consumed in the past 7 days
1 spoon to eat you with (note to self--need to get one of those serrated spoons)
1 knife to gently coax out the best of you there is to have

Sadly, I cast you aside in my youth for sweeter, more artificial things. Such foolishness. Forgive me, my taste buds have matured and my waist line has widened. I am now the wiser and see the error of my ways.

I hope that we may soon meet again.

Flying fingers

2009-02-04T18:49:00.000-08:00

Even though I was still sneezing (and occasionally coughing away) I was determined that suffering from a lingering and particularly vile cold would not cause us to cancel our plans to see the legendary Al Di Meola play at Jazz Alley last Saturday evening. So I shed my pj sickie-wear, shaved my monkey-woman legs, donned a colorful purply skirt with a matching top and off we went.

There are many wonderful places to eat in Seattle but sadly Jazz Alley is not one of them. Its menu is limited with only about 8 entree choices. It also didn't help that my fashion accessory for the evening was an ever-present travel package of kleenex that I had emptied by the time the last piece was played. My sense of taste and smell were skewed and my appetite was rather small. We had possibly the blandest calmari I've ever tasted with the most exicting title I've ever heard (Deep Sea Calamari) and our entrees with served with burnt "grilled" veggies on the side. Andrew with all his olfactory senses intact was in agreement with my assessment of the food and he is usually more generous than I with such matters.

Although we were dissapointed in the food that sentiment dissappeared after hearing Di Meola's first piece. This man is a true master of his art. He plays guitar with a technicality and speed that seems almost beyond human possibility, yet is still simultaneously beautifully classical and improvisational. While he has been criticized by some for his focus on speed, I honestly couldn't understand what that hype was all about--perhaps when he was a younger performer this might have been an issue. Hearing him play along with an international assortment of percussion, acoustic bass, second guitar was like taking a mini-vacation to somewhere warm and exotic while sitting in a drab Seattle building on a cold January night. The hour and a half single set passed much too quickly. We were fortunate to be treated to an encore of none other than the Mediterranean Sundance which has many, many versions.

Being a sickie just ain't no fun

2009-01-29T18:26:00.000-08:00

I felt a little 'wonky' all weekend, then relatively normal on Monday (my day off) so I went off to work on Tuesday with every good intention in the world. The clinic I work at has a *very* strict sick policy so I was expecting to be banished to a 'hotel cube' outside of the actual clinic to do phone triage. That was just fine in my book.

But what I didn't pay attention to was the nagging fact that my throat was a little bit sore...and for some unimaginable reason, doing telephone triage for 4 hours straight made a sore throat turn into one that felt as if it was being tortured by a mad, clawing kitty.

So the past 2 days I have been a bum and hubbie has sweetly been around to make hot soups and tea. I've also watched more than my share of animated movies (Finding Nemo and Spirited Away, to name a few) and have generally come to the state of sickie boredom. At least I sound less like a frog for the moment and can sit in front of a computer for more than 15 minutes without my head throbbing!

Signing off for more hot tea and fresh sweet pineapple.

What's up with the box, doc?

2009-01-18T19:50:00.000-08:00

Remember Bugs Bunny? Andrew recently began to relive his childhood nostalgia with Bugs Bunny by watching internet cartoons. Poor kid, apparently when you grow up in a communist country the powers that be only air about the same 20 cartoons a few times a year. No wonder he's such a fan. =)

Unfortunately we're stuck in the seeming never-ending era of Seattle winter doldrums...so much rain and gloomy dark it's hardle bearable without unusual quantities of caffeinne, commitment to some sort of indoor exercise, and other indoor hobbies. The antics of Bugs and Mr Fudd have been a welcome entertainment in small doses of cartoony-goodness. Particularly amusing is the litany of physical comedy, lack of politcal-correctivity, and sometimes (even) yes, sexist humor. It's not necessarily offensive--the cartoons just portray the relic of those times when ladies stayed home and wore high-heels in the kitchen--and men became hopeless idiots at the sight of bosoms and red lipstick. (well, wait--some of that still might be true.)

It was a pleasant surprise for Andrew...and for another furry household member when a package arrived in the mail from his mom containing none other than the Golden Looney Tunes Collection. (Thanks Roxana!)

Can you guess which furry household member that might have been? Once again, being at work--I must say I miss all the excitement around this place. Andrew was kind enough to capture the moment in my absence. Without further ado, dear readers...here you have it.

Hmm....what have we here? So kind of Roxana to send me a box. Someone get rid of these blue shiny flat things, will you? They're interferring with a perfectly good box.

I must investigate if the smell is suitable to a feline of my disposition. Inspection time!

Ah, well is appears to have suitable aesthetic quality. Now, how about the feel of this material--is it comfortable, what is the corrugation cell count? Does it contain any of that memory foam I've been hearing about?

Well, I rather think I like this....so back off! One paw over the box says this is mine, mine, and mine! Don't be getting any ideas. (This means you, slobbery resident canine!)

Off to kitty dreamland in the perfect little ol' box.

It's a random me-me

2009-01-12T18:53:00.000-08:00

My old college friend and dorm-mate Tania tagged me...I think I neglected to do *anything* the last time she tagged me for something, so I shall try to improve my blog-manners by playing nicely this time.

Here are the rules:
1. Link to the person that tagged you

2. Post the rules on your blog

3. Share six non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself

4. Tag six random people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs

5. Let each random person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their website.

6. Let your tagger know when your entry is up.

And without further ado, here's a little look-see into me.

1. Thursday nights when Andrew's at aikido I've been known to watch Ugly Betty. I find the show charming in an undeniably cheesy way. It's reassuring to see all manner of problems resolved within 30 minutes and how Betty's unrelenting idealism is usually still alive and kicking at the end despite the antics of her conniving co-workers.

2. Having grown up with an artist mother and being exposed to all kinds of arts and philosophies about design from a young age, it's kind of pathetic that my blog is still a boring ol' blogger format. I'm generally very particular about how things look (the applies to everything from making cards for someone's birthday, to the style of handwriting I use, to cutting the ends of tape I use on a patient's dressing so it looks neat-n-clean--obsessive, no?) but...somehow that quirk hasn't managed to manifest in what you see here. Maybe someday I'll get with the program and take advantage of hubby's skills to provider you all with bloggity-bling-bling goodness.

3. I've never owned an I-pod, and we only recently became a 2 cellphone household within the past 3 months.

4. As a true child of the 80s, I developed a temporary fixation on (drum roll please) a Miss Piggy doll given to me by a great aunt. Apparently I dragged that thing everywhere for a couple of years. I recall that she (Miss Piggy, not the great aunt) wore some sort of purply-lacey affair and when the doll was undressed, her cloth body was permanently adorned in a purple bassierre and panty set. And let's not forget she had astronomical bazoombas. She undoubtedly had Barbie beat in that department. Luckily there are not very many photos that capture the evidence of my sordid past.

5. I tried down-hill skiing for the first time in my life on New Year's Day...my mom, Andrew, and I went to Leavenworth's Skill Hill area and braved the rope tows. I surprised myself and did pretty well, only falling 4 times and making it to the intermediate hill eventually. What was probably more surprising was my mom (who hasn't skiied in 20+ years) clearly has still 'got it!' and appeared to be quite the pro. I should eventually get around to posting some pics on my flickr site.

6. I've never gone to the naked spa which many of my co-workers just rave about (ladies only, nothing kinky here!)...but a dip in a warm mineral bath, body scrub, massage sounds great! As soon as I relinquish my fears about public nudity, count me in. =)

Ok show-in-tell is officially over! Now it's time for me to tag a few of you unsuspecting, poor souls. Let's see here, how about...

1) Bree (my little sister and possibly most disgruntled child-hood tag partner)
2) Drea
3) Jen
4) Cheryl whose blog is newly resurrected! Yeay!

medical humor

2009-01-09T20:23:00.000-08:00

I was getting caught up on some of my favorite medical blogs and thought this excerpt from Respiratory Therapy 101 was hi-lariously clever.

What do physicians think of the 700 Billion Bailout?

The Allergists voted to scratch it, and the Dermatologists advised not to make any rash moves.

The Gastroenterologists had sort of a gut feeling about it, but the Neurologists thought the Administration had a lot of nerve, and the Obstetricians felt they were all laboring under a misconception. The Ophthalmologists considered the idea shortsighted.

The Pathologists yelled, ‘Over my dead body!’ while the Pediatricians said, ‘Oh, Grow up!’ The Psychiatrists thought the whole idea was madness, the Radiologists could see right through it, and the Surgeons decided to wash their hands of the whole thing.

The Internists thought it was a bitter pill to swallow, and the Plastic Surgeons said, ‘This puts a whole new face on the matter.’ The Podiatrists thought it was a step forward, but the Urologists felt the scheme wouldn’t hold water.

The Anesthesiologists thought the whole idea was a gas, and the Cardiologists didn’t have the heart to say no.

In the end, the Proctologists left the decision up to some asshole in Washington .

Was it really all that bad?

2009-01-08T18:03:00.000-08:00

All the world (at least, the world as we know it in western Washington) seems to be washing away. The cold, the wind, the unrelenting rain, rain, and more rain.

I once heard that the eskimo language has about 30 different words for snow. Some caffeinne-riddled, overly educated Seattle-ite really ought to get to work on that one.

During the past month I took a temporary blogging siesta but the camera remained on active during the many snow days. Since I can now properly layer clothing and have stuck it out in a snow cave, I can honestly say I prefer these days to water, water, everywhere.

This first shot is a conglomeration of patio nick-nacks: a candle trio, an Buddhist bells, a woven straw bird--ornament our deck--turned into snow-cones by the third day of snow.

The first day of snow madness as you can see was just a dusting. I left work early enough to take a walk with Andrew and the dog-child through the park. The old submarine fins at Magnuson Park looked like snow sharks!

This photo accurately documents Sophie's comments regarding snowy white stuff.

Walking to the Metropolitan for groceries allowed us to observe the neighborhood festivities. Steep hills were closed for riving but open for sledding. The Burke-Gilman bicyclers traded in their 2 wheels for cross-country skiis and I saw one kid screaming bloody murder while being pulled on a sled by his father (what's so bad about getting pulled on a sled I wonder?)

By the time we were walking to get groceries, we passed sights like this...

and that...

And when we got home to our drafty 20-ft skylight ceiling condo, we had ourselves a little of this....

Better Late Than Never

2008-12-25T18:34:00.000-08:00

Photo taken by the shores of Lake Washington on an unusually snowy day. Hope yours was a good one!

Snowy Weekend

2008-12-17T19:37:00.000-08:00

After braving an adventurous car ride over Steven's Pass on Friday night, we were rewarded with the inaugural winter snow. We had 2 full days to luxuriate in quiet, get in some winter walks in the Icicle Creek area, enjoy doggie-in-the-snow antics and Andrew-in-the-snow antics.

I don't much feel like sitting at a computer any more than I already have, so dear readers...let the photos tell the story...

the unhappy elf

2008-12-08T20:32:00.000-08:00

So the holidays are almost here. I received my first Christmas card in the mail today. Most of us are being a little bit lower-key on the gifting end of things due to various, ahem...economic factors. All that aside, I still like to get Andrew a few nice things and I also very much like to keep them a surprise.

There's one small problem in all of this: when your husband works at home and picks you up from your shuttle stop at the end of the day, keeping even a small secret can be a little challenging. This year I thought I had it all figured out. I booked dinner reservations for a Saturday night at Jazz Alley for a performance by Al Di Meola, whose art of electric guitar jazz is just the most amazing thing ever. I also found a classic clothing item that hopefully is neither 'dorky' nor 'gay' (the 2 most common protests about my clothing choices for my husband, who would probably prefer to live in a nudist or raggedy t-shirt colony) via internet order AND had it delivered to a co-workers home so certain inquiring minds would not be able to find out.

So on Sunday while I was visiting my aunt at the hellhole and helping her with some PT exercises, Andrew called me. He just wanted to let me know that Al Di Meola is going to be in town in January and that he'd just made dinner reservations for a Friday night since Saturday was all sold out. And there went the surprise of gift no 1.

And I guess that doesn't really have anything to do with him being at home, it probably has more to do with us having a similar interest in this musician. So, to get back to the point...

Let's fast-forward to today, where I get a another call from Andrew at work.

"Honey, did you order anything from Land's End? Because I got a receipt in the mail, but no package in the mail?"

I stammer for a few seconds, trying hopelessly to come up with a believable excuse.

Ater a bit of my sputtering, Andrew then says, "Uh, I hope I'm not ruining anything... Rae, are you there?"

It's a good thing I'm not an undercover FBI agent, or a criminal because I'm a pretty sucky liar, even if it's for a good reason. I couldn't come up with ANYTHING to make that pesky receipt vanish....zip, nada.

The only good thing is that he didn't bother to look at the actual name of the item, but c'mon people. When you buy something OVER THE INTERNET and receive a receipt confirmation and shipping confirmation via email does the seller really have to mail the buyer a paper receipt?

Next year, it's fruitcake, baby. Or a French maid outfit, both of which he'd never, ever suspect. Ever.

Discombobulation

2008-11-20T19:48:00.000-08:00

When you get this of email from a co-worker, you know that maybe, just maybe, today just wasn't your kind of day. And I thought that when I discovered my undies were on inside-out at the beginning of the day that it was a bad omen. (Which is why you probably shouldn't try to get dressed in the dark)

The initial email:
I don't think your fly's zipped up all the way (maybe I'm wrong, I didn't want to stare too closely). :)

My response:
Hahha! You might be right. These are fancy pants for a girl like me.
Gosh, is it that noticeable? Uh oh. Thanks! (it was unzipped a little bit)

And then hers:
No biggie - I only noticed because I was admiring your fancy pants. :)

I might add that I WAS WEARING A KNEE-LENGTH LAB COAT for most of the day. Which wasn't buttoned up, but it is long, white, and opaque. So why am I scrutinized that closely? Must have something to do with those fancy pants. (Which I got for 36.99 at my very favorite Ann Taylor Loft)

nurses nurses everywhere

2008-11-14T19:16:00.000-08:00

Sorry to leave that growly post up, but here's a cheerier one. (Tania, I *will* eventually get to my 'blog tag' assignment, I promise!) For the next couple of days, I will be immersed in oncology-nursing mania at the Washington State Convention & Trade Center for none other than the 9th Oncology Nursing Society Institute of Learning. The conference kicked off with this humorous, heartfelt speech by Meg Brown, a survivor of Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma. I used to scoff at such 'touchy-feely' speeches, but now I know they're just the kind of soul food one needs to stay in this profession.

I've run into several old co-workers, met some interesting new folks--even a nurse and a CNS from Korea!--and caught up with an old Seattle U classmate. I've always liked hearing what people's impressions are of Seattle, and making suggestions of how they can take full advantage of our lovely city. Today there were lots of comments about "why, it's not rainy at all"--to that one, I just smile and nod.

I can also report that I am many pens richer thanks to the exhibitors. Too bad big pharma rules are changing, so we have to all snatch up these freebies before they're gone. More importantly, there will probably be less free continuing education offerings at fancy restaurants where I can have many glasses of nice wine and learn lots at the same time (yeah right). Oh, and the talks today were excellent too, but nobody comes to my blog to read about evidence-based practice for diarrhea and constipation.

So here's hoping I can make it through 2 more days of seminars and not have my ADD-tendencies emerge, and rather new-found knowledge and enthusiasm for what I do.

it defies even imagination

2008-11-11T20:20:00.000-08:00

I never had high expectations of nursing homes given the stories I have heard, but I guess you have to live it to believe how bad it can really get. I hope there are some staff at this facility that actually treat people like, well, people. But so far I've yet to witness it. I'm sure they're overworked, under-educated, but the bottom line is that they are still taking money for services that have not been rendered and care that is negligent, demeaning, and borderline abusive.

This is why you shouldn't allow a hospital transfer of your loved on to this shithole--oh excuse me, skilled nursing facility otherwise known as North Creek Health & Rehab in Bothell, Washington.

To think that when a patient's family expresses concern about the lack of hot water in a shared room where 2 women have colostomies and the caregivers are observed to be washing their hands for increments of perhaps 10 seconds at most, the response of the management team is "Cold water is just as good if you rub your hands together with friction."

A call button pushed for help is rarely answered within 10 minutes, and routinely answered at 30 minutes. The aide who answers the light typically says "I'll go get the nurse" and then asks the resident to turn the call button off. They rarely return to confirm that help is on the way or inform the resident how long it may be.

Her skin after nearly 2 months of being bed-bound at Harboview looked fantastic. After 1 week at the nursing home, it's starting to show the effects of poor nursing care.

Needed equipment included in her discharge orders, such as a continuous passive motion machine, was not available at the facility. It did not arrive until about 5 days after her admission. This was after my mom requested a copy of her discharge papers because the harried nurse stated "oh, we didn't see any orders for that, here why don't you look." and confirmed with the management team that yes, incompetents, this order existed. She got her CPM the next day.

When her family members met with the management team at this facility and expressed concern that she might not be able to spend 3 hours in a wheelchair to be transported to her first follow-up appointment (bear in mind the longest she has spent thus far has been about 30 minutes) the response was "that's the way our policies work" despite communication from the patient and the family that this would be uncomfortable and quite possibly even painful for her. (Did I mention she has a couple of open wounds still?)

When her colostomy keep coming off because nobody had been properly fitting it, she attempted to participate in the changing of the device and guide them to apply heat to make sure it stayed put. One of her caregivers was verbally abusive towards her when she tried to provide this guidance. (In auntie's defense, she only has one movable arm, so she can't quite do this herself yet. And this happened over a work-day for me, otherwise I could've had that baby fitted properly)

Oh, and a couple days later when the ostomy wafer needed to be changed? The needed supplies had not been ordered and were not available within the facility. When a family member offered to obtain them, they declined. The device was finally changed several hours later after they had obtained supplies from their preferred vendor. This resulted in several hours of discomfort for my aunt, whose poor skin is quite abraded by this point in time.

Worse yet, when a fed-up family member snapped a cell-phone photo of a poop-stained towel one staff member left on the floor, management team called it a HIPAA violation and banned them from the building and threated to call the police. Excuse me, since when was taking a photo of poo a HIPAA violation? Can you spot protected health information on dirty linen? I sure can't. It's a good thing, too. Otherwise scam artists would be cracking open septic tanks instead of mailboxes.

These are all sadly true stories and not an exaggeration. We've had a couple of meetings with the management team trying to voice concerns, and the response continues to be that the family is the problem, the family is interferring with care.

Realizing that we were not working with a team of professionals but an entirely different beast, we resorted to calling the state quality control offices. The ombudsman (who is actually a woman) visited today, and will be there again tomorrow.

I have never been so disgusted with a so-called healthcare institution. Unfortunately all attempts to mediate this at our own level only (so far) has served to make things worse. Hopefully the involvement of the state can help bring about some common sense and humanity. This has been a hard enough and long enough journey for my aunt without this extra drama. We have looked into other facilities but are currently wait-listed. Here's hoping for a better care partnership in the future.

Publish Post

Quiet Jubilation

2008-11-06T18:17:00.000-08:00

These are the words that come to mind in describing these post-election days. I have overhead so many people talking about how excited they are at the prospect of change and the message of hope that the election of Obama has brought. One co-worker came into office nearly dancing and just had to give everyone a hug because she was *so very* excited that our country has elected such a positive leader.

Obama has some big problems to fix and even greater expectations to fulfill. But the energy he has infused into this country is palpable.

photo taken by Richard Pohle/The Times
There's a cafeteria across the street from the building where I work. They make fantastic sandwiches fresh to order, at very decent prices. There's also the usual hot foods section. The lunch ladies are all helpful but fairly business-like, not a lot of chit-chat goes on even if you try to initiate it. They are not rude or unfriendly, but rather focused on getting out the food in a timely manner.

A few weeks ago I wanted specifically white rice to go with my Thai-food leftovers. I asked the black lady behind the counter if 'they had white rice' today (sometimes they do) That day, the answer was no. I later felt weird about asking the black lunch lady for white rice, almost like it paralleled some awful racist joke I'd overheard in high school hallways.

Yesterday I went over with a co-worker to grab a turkey sandwich. The black lunch-lady was at the counter again, promptly going through each station in her quiet, businesslike way--"Mayo? Mustard?" and "What kind of cheese do you want?" She wore a little smile that was not characteristic of her typical demeanor.

I noticed that beneath her navy apron, she was wearing a black t-shirt with Obama's forehead and the American flag printed in white just peeking over the neckline. As she handed my sandwich over to me, I looked straight at her and said, "That's a great shirt. I think I know who you have on underneath that apron."

She just looked back at me, smiled even wider, chuckled to herself. She wiggled a little bit--a restrained 'happy dance'--and scooted back to the beginning of the counter. "What kind of bread. honey?" she asked the next hungry person.

rainy day Vashon Island jaunt

2008-11-02T09:28:00.000-08:00

We'd originally planned to day-hike up Granite Mountain this weekend, but the weather was a bit discouraging. In addition, I'd done my yearly oh-so-much-fun physical yesterday, and decided to get my fasting blood tests done Saturday morning. So that was obviously the best decision I made this week.

I was still feeling a little restless that morning about heading out of the city in search of fall beauty and hopefully not too much rain, so Andrew and I loaded the Sophie dog into our faithful little 95 Mazda and headed off to Vashon Island. It was a drizzly, short ferry ride but we were just in time to hit the last 2 hours of their local farmer's market where everything--crafted or grown, originates on the island. I bought a yummy blueberry-pear coffeecake and fed some bites to Andrew as we continued our island driving adventures.

Next we headed off in search of a 'rare books store' to which Andrew had an address that led us down a twisty country road and we realized that the so-called 'book store' was probably part of someone's home. We passed many farms and several yards with creative oddities. Someone's home is exactly what the bookstore turned out to be, except for some reason the guy couldn't let us into his house despite claiming that he had thousands of volumes. hmm.... In any case, he was very nice and offered to give Andrew a discount on his first purchase. Apparently most of his business is on-line and perhaps conducted with a bong always in the vicinity.

Since the rain had lessened a bit by this time, we drove down to the other end of the island in search of Pt Robinson lighthouse (pictured at top far right) and Maury Island Park. Maury Island was one of the locales where supposedly a UFO sighting took place in the 1940s, the evidence being a slag of debris--apparently its origin is still debated.

Andrew and I were not aware of this piece of history during our visit, but enjoyed Maury Island Park nonetheless. Sophie was very excited at the prospect of crunching on clamshells, chasing birds, and fetching sticks. Andrew and I just enjoyed the quiet, and if the day was a tad less cloudy, we would have also savored a fantastic view of Mt Rainier.

Near the end of our beachcombing, we happened across a little black head flipping in and out of the water, and a swirling flock of seagulls. When the animal came a little close to shore, we realized we were witnessing a seal frolicking about with its latest catch. It carried on with its food-play and didn't seem to mind our presence one bit.

I wish I could have provided a few photos of our day, and I did bring my camera, but failed to check the batteries before I left home.

I guess that means we'll have to go back! It was refreshing to get a little taste of rural, fall quiet.

Sunday Times

2008-10-26T09:19:00.000-07:00

I've had the privilege of meeting many long-time couples throughout my short time in nursing--there was the 92 year old retired air force pilot and his wife of 65 years who could still tell stories about the day they met, there was the quiet, calm couple who trained blind dogs together for 30 years and married for 40 years, and then there was the long-time married couple of 40 years where every time the wife came in for her treatments, the husband was always a calm, steady presence. She was often anxious but as long as he was there, she was fine. He was a seemingly healthy rock of a man who still participated in mountain climbs at 60-some years of age. I remember being absolutely shell-shocked when I learned he had passed away of a heart attack, and she--still with cancer, but relatively stable in her disease progression--passed away a mere 5 days later.

While it might be a little sensational, this is still an interesting read for your Sunday Times enjoyment: Never To Part

Death with Dignity or not?

2008-10-24T13:51:00.000-07:00

On the Washington State ballot this year is a compelling initiative, Initiative 1000 which is modeled after Oregon's Death with Dignity act. Since its inception in 1997, the average number of people utilizing this law to procure and use lethal medications is about 40 persons per year. The majority of persons using this law as a means to end their lives are cancer, AIDs and ALS patients.

Working as an oncology nurse in both the outpatient and inpatient setting over the past 5 years, I am no stranger to witnessing death and discussions about the dying process. I have cared for the dying, titrated morphine drips, moistened their mouths, turned them over in bed or just simply sat and held their hand. I have sat with their families and spoken with their loved ones shortly before and after death was near. I have had conversations about hospice and palliative care with patients and families who were struggling with the newly revealed news that death from their cancer was no longer a possibility, but a certainty.

In certain cases, particularly in younger patients with a stronger will to live or older patients with hardier physiques, one can clearly see that the dying process is just as laborious as birth. Every movement, every breath, is purposeful and is fully invested in bringing about an eventuality. The dying process is certainly no less meaningful than that of birth, even if we cannot tangibly evidence why. There is a spiritual realm to all of our daily lives, and this veil thins and becomes transparent at the end of what we experience of life. Even though I am not an especially religious person this is what I feel to be true. Inherent in human life is also death.

I used to think that if ever a law were to be passed in support of patient-assisted death, I could support it. But after seeing how the bottom-line (and certainly not promoting health) is paramount to insurance companies who have the power to deliver or deny treatments that extend (or in some cases, result in cure) of life, there are too many slippery slopes at play. In addition, the manner in which this initiative is written does not allow adequate protection for those who are potentially depressed or otherwise mentally ill. For example, in Oregon's 2007 report, only 36 out of 341 persons were referred for counseling.

The majority of recipients under the Oregon state law were white, educated, and most had private health insurance with about 35% being medi-care or medicaid recipients. So this might weaken my previous 'slippery slope' argument, then again it may not. The more educated population could have placed more value on protecting their hard-earned assets, and part of their decision to seek lethal medications may have subconsciously been financial. The report cites loss of dignity and of autonomy as the most common concerns leading patients to seek medication, but it does not go to any length to qualify what impact treatment decisions or financial situations may have had on their decision.

This initiative is estimated to cost $60,000 for rule-making, and an additional $19,000 per year for statistics tracking and employment of state health department workers. (Yes, I am going to talk about finances) If Washington trends are similar to the Oregon state trends, this would support the deaths of about 40 people a year. It certainly is not a significant source of state funds, but when we're talking health-care dollars, I'd like to ensure that it's money well spent. I'm concerned this is not well-spent, and it does not offer much protection for this vulnerable population of extremely ill persons. It is interesting to note that many disabled rights support groups find this law intimidating.

Consider this (and here is the excerpt which I find most relevant)

Managed care and assisted suicide - a deadly mix.

Perhaps the most significant problem is the deadly mix between assisted suicide and profit-driven managed health care. Again and again, health maintenance organizations (HMOs) and managed care bureaucracies have overruled physicians' treatment decisions. These actions have sometimes hastened patients' deaths. The cost of the lethal medication generally used for assisted suicide is about $35 to $50, far cheaper than the cost of treatment for most long-term medical conditions. The incentive to save money by denying treatment already poses a significant danger. This danger would be far greater if assisted suicide is legal.

Assisted suicide is likely to accelerate the decline in quality of our health care system. A 1998 study from Georgetown University's Center for Clinical Bioethics underscores the link between profit—driven managed health care and assisted suicide. The research found a strong link between cost—cutting pressure on physicians and their willingness to prescribe lethal drugs to patients, were it legal to do so. The study warns that there must be "a sobering degree of caution in legalizing [assisted suicide] in a medical care environment that is characterized by increasing pressure on physicians to control the cost of care" (Sulmasy et al., 1998).

This statement from an accomplished nurse, educator, and wife of a hospice patient states these arguments more eloquently. And this writer offers an interesting position in support of the autonomy of the dying, suggesting that this law with all its safeguards once again places far too much control within the hand of the physician and not of the patient, therefore negating any power of so-called 'freedom' it seems to offer.

Is it possible to write a fail-proof initiative? Maybe not.

But it doesn't mean that we should accept a poorly written and potentially dangerous one where your loved one has to wait an extended period for medication, may not be screened for depression, and is not required to notify anyone (except the physician) of this decision, and saves your insurance plan (or in some cases, the state) a good chunk of cash.

Were the parties responsible for writing this initiative somehow unaware that it is already legal to administer however much sedating medication is needed to relieve pain, even if it hastens death, in the privacy and comfort of your own home? Or were they more aware of the costs of palliative care? Or palliative chemotherapy or radiation treatments for excruciating bone pain for which no other medication is effective? (Yes, such things exist and in some cases are very appropriate.)

No matter your position, you must ask yourself the question: who stands to benefit from such a law? It is clearly not the patient.

Behaving badly

2008-10-22T07:44:00.000-07:00

The story behind the story: The rule in our house regarding pets and encounters with people furniture is 'by invitation only'. Of course, with the kitty this is minimally enforceable.

So now dear readers you can understand that why this little story (and accompanying photos) resulted in chuckles and smiles. Especially sinceAndrew sent this to me at work on a rather (otherwise) frustrating day.

Enjoy the following photos and story, courtesy of my darling husband.

… she is lying down on the floor, by the foot of the stairs, I am on the phone.
She gets up, walks slowly(tail down) towards the TV, smells the remotes on the table, and then even more slowly she climbs up.

A quick turn of the head, as if saying: What? Is there something you want?

Sophie in all her couch-surfing glory. Ya can't blame her, it IS a comfy couch. Head on the pillow and everything.

Both the naminals just chilling. Except Layla (for once) is the one following the rules. That giant purple cat bed is otherwise known as "Big Shrimpy".

simple pleasures

2008-10-12T19:07:00.001-07:00

The last few flowers a friend brought us from her garden. They were a marvelous colour!

Baking: I've recently successfully endeavored to make the following: chocolate chip cookies with a gourmet twist(have made these several times since), Bailey's Cupcakes (texture was a bit 'muffin-ish' for me), decadent buttermilk cupcakes, and these delicate lime melts pictured above. Yes, it's true--I've become the family member that marches onto the unit armed with my home-made delicacies. A well fed-nurse is a happy nurse, no?

During times of stress of course a girl must employ the age-old strategy of acquiring cute (but not necessarily sensible, and certainly not needed) SHOES. Wandering into this store is usually a recipe for trouble. At least these slick little babies can pass as work attire! Notice the fine details and the red whip-stitching around the sole which makes them a little edgey.

And the best-est for the last: your darling hubby who has just groomed and bathed the formerly fuzzball Miss Sophie. Two of my most favorite things in the whole wide world snuggled up on the couch, what could be sweeter than that?

the most beautiful sound

2008-10-07T19:57:00.000-07:00

On September 13th while Andrew and I were at a wedding celebrating with a co-worker on beautiful Lake Union, my aunt was involved in a very serious car accident. We did not find out until the following day.

24 days ago a helicopter brought her to this place. Fortunately it happens to be one of the best in the country for trauma, and the best for traumatic orthopedic injuries. She has so many.

22 days ago her chest was closed. I hardly slept that night. And when I finally fell asleep, waking up in the morning was terrible since it was another realization that this seeming nightmare was painfully real.

21 days ago her abdomen was closed. She was terribly bloated, intubated, but miraculously had been able to still follow commands when her sedation was lightened. The following morning when I was in the shower, as I washed my arms I felt--consciously for the first time--the delicate curves of the wrist, the bony aspect that yields to the softer flesh of the lower arm. I realized that her body (what a perfect vessel we have been given) will never again feel the same to her. I wept.

17 days ago she was being cared for by 2 male nurses. I knew that if she were more alert, she would find this quite amusing. She seemed to be more aware that day, opening her eyes and raising her eyebrows when certain things were said. Her eyes widened seemingly with worry when the nurse told her "Oh, you got in a BIG CAR WRECK." Knowing how bad drivers always stressed her out, I tried to reassure her that she had not caused the accident, and again reassure her that all of her affairs were being looked after. She stared at me for a few seconds, then fluttered her eyes and went back to a fentanyl-induced sleep.

18 days ago I went back to work. I had to start living my life again and put the initial shock and hurt behind me. While cleaning out my personal messages on my 'backline' voice mail that day, I became tearful. One of them was Auntie V's cheery, warm voice. I played it twice and saved it. I prayed that I could hear her voice again.

16 days ago Andrew and I woke up on the crack on a Saturday, determined to peg down those elusive ortho docs and get the full story. Potential quality of life and the full extent of her orthopedic injures were still a bit unclear to our family. A nurse for a different patient who had more morphine syringes than you can count gathered in both hands shooed us out of the room for the 0700-0800 hour for "Nurse's Report". Of course, we then missed the Ortho rounds. After waiting a good 3 hours, we finally had a few answers when a persistent nurse (bless her heart) urged the fellow to come and speak to us.

12 days ago there were finally enough x-ray and scans to assure that her spine was cleared of injury. Previously she had been too unstable and bulky to undergo all the desired tests. A small sigh of relief was uttered. At my visits with her, the desire to try to participate in her basic nursing care was undeniably strong, but with Andrew at my side constantly badgering me (in a good way) to just be a family member. I resisted the urges to pick up caps that dropped on the floor, stripping her catheter tube, and offering to help with turns. They do have a lift team and I've hurt my lower back a few times already. I guess the time will come for that eventually.

10 days ago I was there to visit again, and I happened to know just a little bit the nurse that was taking care of her from a previous job. She was an excellent nurse, but a definite chatterbox and quite keen on engaging me in talking about so-and-so we both knew. Needless to say, I wasn't interested in socializing. I was just there to stroke her forehead and speak to her softly, and let her know her family and friends were hoping for the very best for her.

8 days ago she was extubated (for the first time) and while she was working so very hard to breathe, she whispered up a storm in her poor little hoarse voice. Her first words "I love you." so universal and true. It was the best sound ever. I was a little nervous watching how hard she was working to breathe, I knew they would be checking her ABGs routintely, but that intensive labor just wears people out.

7 days ago she dropped her blood pressures during the night and was re-intubated. Her blood pressures stabilized. I constantly kept reminding myself that little ups and downs like this are not (in the grand scheme of things) something to worry over.

5 days ago her eyes started to just a wee bit look yellow. Started asking about her liver and kidney function and was told 'everything is normal'. I was touched to see that someone had taken the time to braid her long hair neatly in a single braid. She had always done beautiful braids for my sister and I when we were younger.

2 days ago they did an ultrasound--we were told "Oh it's just a build-up from all the blood products". Reportedly her bilirubin levels were elevated. I didn't ask any more questions, sometimes no further inconclusive news is just enough. As much as the intermittent sedation would allow, she still was responding to me when I visited. So however pronounced those issues were, I was hopeful that they would resolve with time.

1 day ago Andrew and I came to visit her towards the change of shift time. She was wide awake, still intubated, and apparently they had been lightening the sedation for several hours in preparation for extubation. She was clearly anxious--waving her right arm as much as the external fixator would allow and constantly communicating with hand gestures to turn on the fan, or off, raise her bed, etc. She made motions as if she wanted to write, we gave her a fat marker and (never one to be patient, and always one to be humorous) wrote "Takes 4 ever!" on a a notebook. We tried to be as sympathetic as possible, but also encouraged her to have patience 'just a little longer' She rolled her eyes at us when the day nurse poked her head in and apologized for not being able to remove the tube yet because it was 'too close to change of shift'--apparently the personality of her daytime nurse was not simpatico with her own.

Finally after the next nurse had settled her other patient, an hour and twenty minutes later the respiratory therapist was summoned. We were temporarily banished from the room and then...voila! That dear little hoarse voice again. We helped her cough off and on for about an hour, gave a few forbidden ice chips (if you didn't know any better, you might have thought these were rare chocolate delicacies from the look on her face) and then bid our goodnites.

She is still working tremendously hard to breathe, but every day I am hopeful that she gets stronger and her lungs continue their recovery so that little hoarse whisper becomes her voice once more.

Note: previous photo of helicopter passing Harboview's main tower removed by request of Kim. Apologies--did not realize that this was copyrighted material.

Everyday sights

2008-09-29T19:29:00.000-07:00

Along the commute to or from work on a Fall Monday....I pass over this bridge daily.

Saw a crane 50 feet high with 2 port-a-potties being suspended adjacent to a high-rise construction. Were they full, empty, or somewhere in-between? A practical joke, perhaps? Do muscular guys who do construction work 24/7 really need a portable stinky bathroom on the 15th floor? I wonder...

A full grown man pedaled furiously on his full, grown-up sized shiny pink bike up 45th street this afternoon. He was wearing serious, manly biker-dude gear....a gift for his biker chic girl? Who knows... All that was missing were the colorful handlebar streamers and a horn!

A dark green car cut us off, grrr....Got a glimpse of the vanity license plate: GRNEGGNHM. Even though this did get a little chuckle, if you cut me off, you gotta do a whole lot better than that to make it up to me (or in this case, Andrew!).

beg, borrow, or steal

2008-09-22T18:35:00.000-07:00

Anybody with a sister knows that these three verbs are the primary drama-creators of sibling-hood. When you're little, it starts with toys. Then it goes to hair accessories, books, cool crafty things, clothing... next comes sharing a car. While it's great to temporarily expand the selection of fluorescent leggings in your wardrobe and other misled late 80s fashions, your Little Mermaid versus Lion King lunch pail, or the pogs in your collection, these three little verbs are unfortunately likely precursors to squabbles.

So what is it now? I'm stealing a blog post. Yup, my sister finally shed her decidedly blase, all-too-common myspace for a much more expressive blog. (Not that she is blase, mind you) Beware, she really likes pink. And this is her version of the accounts of the past few days. The photo is from about a year ago on our "Dad's day" sail around Elliott Bay. I wish I had a little kiddo picture to make you ooh and ahh over, but everything I have is in a good old-fashioned album and I can't beg, borrow, or steal a scanner at the moment.

I'm slowly learning, everyday, to replace fear with hope.

What about the Sophie?

2008-09-21T19:19:00.001-07:00

Because of the recent accident my auntie experienced, our daily existence has been all topsy-turvy. With all the amount of time spent at the hospital, I wanted to have one less worry on my mind. Sophie went to her dog sitter (Lydia's) for a few days and had a blast, as usual. Andrew even brought home some of Lydia's home-made doggie treats, which smelled and looked so good I almost ate them before I found out what they were. (I don't think cooked liver cookies with garlic and sesame seeds are meant for humans, do you? The sesame had a wonderful aroma.)

Sitting on the wicker bench from left to right are Sophie, Dave, and Kimi. Sitting on the ground is Cedar the giant sheltie, who apparently has spent so much of his doggie-life with airedales that he acts like one too. You have to admire the fact that one woman can get 4 dogs to sit and pose for pictures, and 3 of them aren't even hers!

Last nite when I couldn't sleep, even though I was being very quiet Sophie got out of her crate and came over to keep my company. She curled up in a black, fuzzy ball just barely touching my feet. That is my sweet girly.

the latest

2008-09-16T23:43:00.000-07:00

I want to say again thank you for all your kind wishes and offers of help. My family had a big conference with the general surgeon today--my aunt continues to defy the odds but still everything is touch and go and very much dependent on whether or not she can survive these initial procedures. She has an incredible, overwhelming amount of trauma but so far her body is handling everything amazingly well. In fact apparently she is on par with a remarkable 20 year old according to this 15 year trauma veteran doc. She is fortunate to not have any chronic illnesses except maybe an addiction to redecorating her home and antiquing.

So we're hoping she again remains stable enough to tolerate more repairs. Tomorrow she is planned for abdominal washout/possible closure. I hope some of this initial exhaustion and emotional drain lifts soon.

the call

2008-09-14T19:11:00.000-07:00

Today just as Andrew and I were on our way to the park with Sophie, we realized there was a voice mail on the cell phone. It was my mom, saying "Please call as soon as you get this." Of course, a call like that is always worrisome.

And unfortunately that unsettled feeling in my stomach did not lie: my aunt had a head-on collision with a car that crossed over 2 lanes of traffic on Highway 9. Andrew and I dropped everything and rushed to the Trauma Surgery ICU at Harborview.

There's tubes and IV lines, and casts. Her face is barely recognizable after 30 units of packed red cells and a plethora of other products. Tomorrow they will literally try to close her chest and abdomen. That's how bad her bleeding was when she arrived--all they could do was open her up, place packing to control bleeding, section off damaged bowel, and repair her diaphragm. Apparently she was able to follow commands and there's no obvious brain injury. As my parents and I were briefed on the situation, the ICU nurse looked me straight in the face and said, "I'll be honest honey, hardly anyone with injuries like makes it to the hospital. For the next 3 days or so, it's really touch and go."

It sure isn't easy being on this side of the hospital bed.

So meanwhile, we wait. We hope. We appreciate your prayers.

100% girlie-fied

2008-09-09T09:32:00.000-07:00

This weekend I had an unusual amount of girlie activity... Which included:

1) Painted my toenails cherry blossom pink.

2) Waxed my legs. This was my third at-home attempt, by far the least messy but still with sub-standard results. Lessons learned include: running up and down the stairs to heat up wax is not conductive to efficiency; bending and twisting every which way to access that one spot on the back of you legs and apply the strip properly is much easier if you are like, say...Gumby or an Olympic gymnast.

3) Cleaned up the sticky and newspaper-smudged mess in my bathroom after number 2. I even put down newspapers and *thought* I had previously concocted a method to prevent the 30 min of clean-up that followed! Bah.

Conclusion? The $35 spent monthly on hair renewal is worth *so* very worth it. Remind me, why do women go through this? Oh yeah, right...somebody long ago decided that hairy legs in their natural state were an abomination and decidedly unsexy.

So what were all these preparations for? Now onto the truly exciting girlie activity.

A few months ago, my Anglo-phile auntie who is an amazing crafter, baker, house-decorate extraordinairre...invited me to a KCTS Jane Austen-themed Tea event. You may recall she also makes beautiful hats.

One rainy, otherwise dreary Sunday, I joined a troupe of other fancily-clad ladies for some scrumptious tea-time courses and conversational pleasantries. Cloistered inside the Daughters of the American Revolution building on Capital Hill, we were given titles (I was a Marchioness which I later found out meant wife of a marquis) and escorted up the velvet-red stairs by gentlemen dressed in period clothing. We were even announced with our so-called "titles" upon our arrival in the dining area. A girl could get used to this!

This was the first course of food--an elegant little sandwich, poppy seed muffin, clotted cream (which sounds atrocious but tastes heavenly), raspberry jam, raspberry scone, and that big yellow blob was the yummiest of all--lemon curd. Did I mention I was fantastically hungry and gobbled this all down, thinking to myself, "well gosh, I'm still kind of hungry" only to find out this was the first of four courses?

I have to admit I was somewhat lacking in conversational graces because, let's face it, while I've watched Emma, Sense & Sensibility, and have read them both....I'm not not exactly the all-knowing fan most of these women were. My Auntie V truly stole the show with her hand-made bonnet--a little girl sitting at our table even later asked to have her photo taken with her. See how delicious this Edwardian-style bonnet is?

::sigh:: Sometimes, for maybe a few minutes, I daydream about living in an era where this style of dress was the norm...and then come crashing back to reality of how privileged women are today compared to past times. I'd swap the daily wearing of a corset for the chore of leg hair removal any day, but definitely not the other way around.--among many other more consequential things!

The festivities also included Regency-era dancing. I have to say my inner nurse-y self was sincerely hoping nobody fainted, because most of the male dancers were elderly and it was fairly muggy. In addition, there were some minor glitches in their dancing music which resulted in a rather long wait for them on the stairs. Fortunately, their performances proceeded without any cause for alarm or reason for me to abandon my Marchioness-like qualities.

Sadly, all good things eventually come to an end. So as all the lovely dishes were being cleared, we were escorted out of the fine hall and whisked back into the world of today. I was very fortunate to enjoy some time with my hard-working Auntie V and share this experience with her.

Can't you see Auntie V is a wee bit smitten with the idea of being escorted down the stairs? =)

and there you have it

2008-09-04T07:12:00.001-07:00

Remember when you and your elementary school buddies would make paper fortune tellers? I had nearly forgotten all about this childhood pastime until recently. One icky, "Decemaugust" day found Andrew and I lounging around, watching a Simpson's episode. (Oh yes, I do know how to spend some fine quality time with my hubbie)

And there was Bart, with all his little hooligan friends devising pranks based off what the little 'fortune teller' told him. I chuckled to myself, recalling the endless amusement the little elementary-devised fortune tellers provided my school yard girlfriends. For example, we could torture our peers terribly about which boy in our class we'd end up kissing, or how many children we might have, or (ready for the sauciest one yet?) perhaps a dare, like "pass a note during class" or "spread a rumor". Oh yeah, I was a bad child. You know it.

I couldn't resist asking Andrew if perhaps, during his childhood, he'd played the fortune teller game. I can't honestly say I ever saw any 2nd grade boys amusing themselves with these things, but he grew up in a far different sort of place, so I thought perhaps there was a chance.

He grinned at me, a little twinkle in his eye. "Oh, yeah...sure we did those."

"Really? So what did you usually put in them?"

"Oh, you know...like what girl you could get with, and how much you could get."

I guess this is why they say "Girls are made of sugar & spice" and little boys....well, let's face it, they're just not.

Well hello again

2008-08-27T07:58:00.000-07:00

I've been watching mooch-ola Olympics, which has been very exciting and awe-inspiring. I especially loved the diving. What was your favorite? Massive amounts of evening tv-watching unfortunately does not leave much time for blogging since both Andrew and I have been--quite literally--staggering off to bed.

So I'm working on a couple of posts, and should have more new, gold-medal winning, world-record-breaking content soon. Or something like that.

=)

they should make a contract for that

2008-08-12T19:24:00.000-07:00

Someone should have told the Pillsbury Doughboy that belly pokes come with the territory. I am seriously debating the 'autonomy' ethic of nursing theory because let's face it...sometimes you just want to bang your head on the wall when you go 'round and 'round with patients on a certain issues...particularly, one known as medication compliance!

Shouldn't we have patients sign a binding contract--that once they agree to start chemotherapy, they also agree to...

TAKE SUPPORTIVE CARE MEDICATION! (such as anti-nausea pills, pain pills, bowel medications, the list goes on and on)

Surprisingly, there are a whole lotta folks out there who don't bat an eye at taking chemotherapy infusions who also apparently don't believe in taking ANY OTHER MEDICATIONS.

Argh. Can't you just feel the irony?

To a certain extent, I can emphasize and help support someone trying to address their pain or nausea at a homeopathic level; but to another extent...if you're absolutely miserable and all your attempts are failing, you need to re-evaluate those beliefs. For your sake and mine, people... please!

Nurse Rae's warning...Chemotherapy is a serious medication. It can (and most likely will) cause some unintended, unpleasant side effects, such as nausea, constipation, diarrhea...but! There is hope! Please try supportive care medication. Please call me when you're feeling crappy. And keep you hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times, please...Thank you!

say hello to a brand-shiny new human being

2008-07-22T19:26:00.000-07:00

I have just returned from a first-ever visit to Idaho Falls to spend time with the Kaufman family and their newest little member, Sam. Since my dear friend Jen and I graduated nursing school, our actual time together has been few and far between. That's what starting a new career, marriage, and a 1-state-away move does.

Fortunately at 2 months, Sam is a decidedly smiley and easy-going baby. At first, I was a little overwhelmed with all the simultaneous tasks Jen was deftly managing...and then awed at the level of communication, collaboration and patience she and her husband Joe share in order to manage this little mister. For such major life changes over a mere 2 month period, these two have adapted very well. They *almost* make it look easy.

Even though it was a relatively short visit, we managed to squeeze in quite a bit!

Jen and I took a walk with baby Sam and their 2 dogs to see the great and glorious namesake of Idaho Falls. Jen told me I would be 'under-whelmed'. Well, by the looks of this photo, do you think Jen was right?

On the walk home, I had a nerd moment where I couldn't resist snapping some photos of a statue at the local library honoring local writer Wilson Rawls, the author of Where the Red Fern Grows. To this day, this is the only book I have ever read that made me churn out waterworks rivaling what you see here. Luckily for you, I was also fascinated by Sam's little hand curled outside his sling and snapped a few of those too. Napping in the nice sunshine while Mom carries him around and feeds on demand--this kid is clearly enjoying the good life.

We stopped at a local bakery on the way home where Jen and I were surprised to notice that her two dogs generally received more attention than the the angelically snoozing Sam... Doc and Schatzi are pretty cute, but c'mon people! Oh, and BTW, Doc makes a great bed-buddy. He made sure I didn't miss my own doggie (too much) by cuddling up at the foot of the futon.

Later that nite, while Mom was readying for bed and night-time baby rituals, Joe and I had some Sam on-the-floor playtime. He was giggly, coo-ey and very smiley for the camera. It was also great to spend some time talking to Joe and getting to know him a little better. By this time, I was becoming decidedly smitten with all of Sam's wee little charms...and very pleased with the fact that once any minor complication developed, I had the benefit of an unsuspecting parent available to attend his needs. Definitely not a luxury you can ever indulge in with your own child!

On Saturday, Joe loaded up the car with baby-gear and we set off on a 2 hour car ride to Jackson Hole for a day trip. My photo fascination with Sam's cute little feet was finally rewarded with this shot... (Apparently he has rather long toes for a baby, but aren't they just wee bits of perfection?)
There were some beautiful sights on the drive to Jackson Hole, interspered with some comical moments where baby-bottle feeding attempts occured with the simultaneous bends and twists that only an Idaho road can offer. Once in Jackson Hole, we were clearly in 'cowboy country' with many of the stores offering Western style leathers and cowboy hats. I later teased Andrew on a phone call home that I'd splurged on a black rhinestone-decorated cowboy hat for him. He was a little less than pleased, needless to say. We spent the day browsing the shops and discovering a little art fair at a nearby park. Here's a few highlights...
Our only 'group photo' with the ever-popular elk horns. Even though we waited for this photo to be free of extra people, some little old ladies walked up and sat down on our left--that's why it's cropped so oddly.
The best Dad n Sam photo taken while Jen and I were enjoying some hard-earned Haggen Daz milkshakes. Great minds think and crave alike: Jen had the Bailey's and I had the Belgian Chocolate (but I was hard-pressed to decide between that and Bailey's.) We spent a long enough day in Jackson Hole that Baby Sam was down to the very last diaper. These adventurous parents decided to live on the wild side and not make a diaper run prior to the 2 hr ride home. Luckily, we made it just in the nick of time.

Eventually...rather unfortunately, all good things come to an end. I had to say goodbye to this comfy little home and make the trip back to Seattle. I am in Sam withdrawals already, so hopefully I'll be able to see that baby before he gets even bigger!

Oh yeah, and maybe I'd like to see his parents too. I guess they can come along.

The last photos snapped before embarking on the trip home...notice Sam is snoozing and sticking out his tongue a bit in this last one...

blast from the past

2008-07-12T08:51:00.000-07:00

Remember the ever-popular candy of the 80s: pop rocks? I guess I was too young to remember all the urban myths surrounding them, perhaps that's why I haven't seen them in ages. Apparently despite all the rumors, they're still around. Checking on one of my favorite foodie blogs yielded this awesome recipe.

As every grown-up knows, chocolate is infinitely better than the kiddie sugar bomb candy. But it takes a true genius to unite the two. I'm definitely gonna give this a try next time the cooking bug bites!

there's this aMaZinG thing called a planner!

2008-07-01T18:15:00.001-07:00

If you're wrong about something...and it causes many of your co-workers a lot of stress, extra work, and your clients inconvenience...and particularly if it's not the first time you've made this mistake...

Please, please, for my sanity and others: admit that you messed up! Instead of blaming others and fuming at 'the system' for being 'punitive'....just deal with the fact that your mistake created problems. Resolve to change your habits and be proactive so you don't repeat the same mistake three times. This is particularly frustrating when said mistake could have been easily avoided just by doing what normal people do--keep a frickin' planner!

Ok. Nuff said on that for now.

May your palm pilot be ever-present, even in your dreams.

never say never and how i got there

2008-06-24T22:13:00.000-07:00

Warning! Nursey Content ahead...this post is part of a Change Of Shift Submission.

When I first made the decision to pursue nursing, I had a definite preference for pediatrics. I eagerly devoured my pre-requisite human development courses. Volunteering in the nearby pediatric ward at Swedish Medical Center seemed to validate both my decision to become a nurse and preference for children. I enjoyed the playfulness of working with children and was pleased to realize that they came with some practical benefits: they were smaller, easier to lift, and the results of their body functions were much tinier.

On my volunteer days I admired the brightly-clad nurses who deftly moved from room to room, soothing a feverish 2 year old while speedily drawing blood, educating parents of a new diabetic, and taking a few minutes to chat with a sulky teen. The stages of development and creativity in altering your approach to a child and his or her family fascinated me. It also satisfied that bit of artist lurking in my otherwise innately practical self.

I remember a conversation with one of my nursing school girlfriends where we decided we each had it figured out...I never wanted to work with adults, and she could never imagine herself as anything other than an oncology nurse. In fact, I think we also announced this on a video cam her auntie had brought to our pinning ceremony. Ah, relatives with videocameras...what's not to love?

I wound up taking a few detours along the way...that led me to a very different place: oncology nursing--initially in the inpatient setting and currently in the outpatient setting. It wasn't by any conscious design but a gradual set of circumstances and choices that eventually led me to where I'm at today.

1) In my junior year of college, I landed a Nurse Technician job in Post-Partum, the closest I could get to pediatrics. The nearby peds ward did not have Nurse Tech positions--so I had to settle for the next best thing.
2) Despite the fact that I scoffed at Labor & Delivery as not being 'real nursing' because I thought it didn't involve med-surgical skills, I eventually began to appreciate its complexities. Little did I know...
3) Had my senior practicum rotation in the anesthesia recovery room at Children's Hospital...Decided that it's really important to get young kids to brush their teeth and not live on sugary liquids so they don't need anesthesia to get dental work done at 3 years of age. These are the ones that wake up trying to kick and hit you. Nevermind that you're supposed to do Q 5 minute VS for 15 minutes. Try that for your next fat-burning work-out.
4) Realized I *really* liked Post-Partum and might want to start my career off as an L & D nurse-- this was despite the weirdness of figuring out to operate hospital contraptions otherwise known as breast pumps, those poor frazzled hormonal moms and downright horny dads. Yes--that's right. Sleep deprivation and lack of sex is a dangerous combination in the average male, my friends.
5) Even though I was really drawn to L & D, I then became worried about possibly not developing a comprehensive med-surg skill base and perhaps being specialized right at the get-go, so...
6) Decided to take a job on a floor specialized in Gynecology-Oncology, Urology, and Hematology-Oncology...it seemed to have a little bit of everything and everyone. I took this job with the thought I'd spend a few years there to solidify a general skill base and then transfer to the L & D.
7) Nearly 5 years later after orienting lots of new nurses, administering chemotherapy, doing complex wound care and end-of-life care... I traded in the hospital scrubs for a nurse case manager position at specialty oncology center.

It didn't take too long for me to realize that the inpatient oncology job I had selected as a graduate nurse was everything I was looking for in nursing. I was working with an outstanding group of folks who were capable of nurturing and gently introducing a newbie into the daunting task of oncology nursing. I began to appreciate that oncology nursing offered a satisfying array of clinical tasks and rapidly changing therapies and particularly an ability to develop a unique relationship with patients. Before I knew it I became OCN certified and was decidedly hooked. So much for pediatrics. So much for small poos. Apparently bigger is not always better.

One of the most frequent comments I hear after telling someone I'm an oncology nurse is...."That is so depressing. How do you do it? Isn't there a lot of death?"

Well, the answers are
1) No, it's not.
2) It's just what I do. I happen to like it.
3) And yes, there can be a lot of death. You have to be prepared for tough conversations and really be comfortable answering questions about death and dying. But there is amazing strength displayed by most patients despite being in the face of great adversity. Even while knowing that cure is sometimes not always possible, there is always hope, promising research, and the everyday business of life to attend to.

I think one of my patients expressed perfectly to me what makes working with the oncology population so unique and rewarding. He described his past 5 years living with colorectal cancer as 'the best of his life.' Before you start to think he's crazy or riddled with brain metastasis, ponder this...

A common sentiment that is frequently expressed by patients is that life becomes innately more valuable, more defined. This is not exactly what they say, but it is the general theme. True wishes, desires, and hopes surface. Relationships are renewed; people begin to act on or resolve their regrets .

The couple that never spent time together now does. And guess what? For the first time in their marriage, they genuinely enjoy being with each other. The estranged mother is reconciled with her daughter--and meets her grandchild. The work-a-holic now realizes there is more to life than constant work and rediscovers his love of painting. The husband who berated himself for not providing enough for his wife finally receives her affirmation that what he had given her was more than enough.

I've seen this sentiment manifest in hundreds of different ways, but the basic message is unchanged. Life goes on...But it does so with a remarkable sense of clarity and newly defined purpose.

As an oncology nurse, the opportunity to educate, to alleviate symptoms, and to celebrate victories both large and small, and most of all--to be present for that journey--is a gift. Never mind the detours--eventually you'll get to the right place.

busted:: or tales of a pack rat, part one

2008-06-23T20:35:00.000-07:00

One of the things I hate to admit is that despite the fact I love neatness and order, I have definite pack rat tendencies. I think I come by it somewhat genetically, so to a certain extent it's entirely understandable, right?

As a result of cleaning out my desk drawers the other day..(no small task for an easily distractible mind such as my own) I find a few interesting relics of the past with stories all their own.

As a typical older child growing up, I had some minor problems with darling younger sibling messing with my stuff. Clothes, toys--whatever it was--somehow it was 'borrowed' and returned not quite in the same manner in which it was last seen. Borrowed clothing eventually became a matter of enough drama that I remember at one point being forbidden from borrowing clothes. I'm sure it didn't last too long!

Remember when Pentel's Hybrid Milky gel pens first came out in pastels? And how the essential ingredients of a 9th grade girly friendship relied upon the ever-present cutely folded arrow, heart, or pull-tab note about boys, gossip, or other top secret items passed off inbetween classes? Well, once those girly-colours pens came out, a girl just simply had to have them. The best part? The pens could write on dark paper as well.

So today I was reunited with my very first ever "Milky Memo" pad. I have an overindulgent fondness for little cutesy stationary thingies. I must confess that spotting this little notepad gave an immediate little burst of creative happiness. When I opened the first page, what did I find?

Bree's bubbly handwriting and trademark little doodles all over the page. After all these years: busted! (See, it wasn't just my imagination--she really was messing with my stuff!)

Oh yeah--and for those of you that know my sis, she just started her own blog! So check out the link and send some love her way.

so this is love

2008-06-15T10:19:00.000-07:00

About a week ago, one of my co-workers brought a dozen luscious cupcakes from the store Trophy to work. Six women, a shared office in which various cupcake-stealers come & go, and a box of 12 decadent, beautifully decorated fresh cupcakes...and what do you think happened? For my part, I will say that I was *quite* good and only devoured 1/2 of a triple chocolate (as pictured above) and 1/2 of a lemon-strawberry.

These little babies were so delightful that for the next week that like the thrill of a new love, the thought of cupcakes almost never left my waking thoughts. I think I mentioned cupcakes at least once a day. I was slowly (but decidedly) driving Andrew crazy. I don't think he was even aware of how tempting it was to just leave it all behind for a cupcake. So it was no surprise that by the time next Thursday rolled around, I simply begged to take our first journey to said store. We purchased a grand total of four for ourselves--2 triple chocolates(his-n-hers), 1 chocolate-vanilla (Andrew) and 1 lemon (me).

I warned Andrew that they were quite rich...and perhaps should only be eaten a half at a time. Also, that perhaps this was a bi-curious cupcake with which might induce uncontrollable swooning on his part. Needless to say, I went off to work and Andrew went home with the cupcakes. By the time I got home, he had 1 cupcake left and was decidedly smitten. By the next day, there was a single triple-chocolate remaining and Andrew warned me that it might not last that much longer, so I'd better eat it.

You know you really love someone when you split an amazingly rich cupcake--that can rightfully be described as chocolate mousse atop of a velevt-y chocolate devil's food cake--without a second thought. I'm contemplating returning to Trophy today today to buy some for good ol' Dad who took an overtime shift (silly man!) at the fire department on Father's Day.

For you avid bakers, never fear...Trophy has shared recipes on their website and even made the hallowed fame of Martha Stewart. If you want a reason to buy a kitchen torch, this Chocolate Graham Cupcake is the perfect one for you... I've yet to try it out, but I'm convinced it scrumptious and undoubtedly good in bed.

Alphabet (acronym) Soup Redux

2008-06-12T22:27:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I had the privilege of attending the NCCN Conference on Anal & Colorectal Clinical Care Guidelines. It was my first time attending a joint Pharmacist/Physician/Nurse/Mid-level education event and I must say... I was a wee bit worried that it might be too saturated with tedious bits of research and other physician-specific application. I was pleasantly surprised at how useful most of the lecture content was to my practice, and that Nursing Statistics 101 wasn't a complete waste of time.

This affair took place at the Bell Harbor International Conference center which is quite luxurious and conducive to a quality experience. There were large windows overlooking the harbor just behind the speakers (excellent for disguising the fact that you just might be daydreaming) super comfy, ergonomic chairs (good for napping) and truckloads of food at the back of the room. Seriously, I do mean truckloads of food. The conference hall attendants (or whatever you call 'em) changed out the 'breakfast' foods to gourmet snacks and candy at 10am. Just what every health care professional needs to help concentrate and feed the ever-growing belly while enjoying a sedentary 4.5hr extravaganza: chocolate covered almonds, Runts (the candy), multiple cheesy-type dips, and soda pop.

Towards the last hour, though...my tenacity for percentages, p-values, and correlations to quality of life indicators and survival outcomes failed me. I became lost in a quagmire of acronyms. Even though I knew 97% of them, trying to engage in new concepts while pinging through the acronyms became extremely annoying. It really shouldn't bother me that much, because acronyms are an every-day part of life in health-care. The more acronyms we use on a daily basis, the smarter we feel. But, there I was...impulsive and impatient from an over-indulgence in lattes and caffeine-riddled, fragrant black tea; feeling slightly aphasic and mischievous.

So as useful means to pass the time, I start making a list of acronyms that originally had a far different meaning to me...had a good chuckle along the way--maybe you will too.

1) BSC: "Babysitter's Club" is now "Best Supportive Care"
2) SOB: "Son of a b#t%h" is now "Short of Breath"
3) CEA: A form of vocal-warm up for choral singing... is now "Carcinogeno Embyronic Antigen"-a tumor marker
4) DOE: "Doe, a deer..a female deer" is now "dyspnea on exertion"
5) OS: Something I learned and forgot in Anatomy 101....now "Overall Survival"
6) 5FU: Saying things that would make your grandmother blush to 5 peoples...is now the name of a common chemotherapy.
7) CAPOX: The name of Prot's alien planet from the Kevin Spacey movie, K-Pax...is now the name of a chemo regimen (oddly the "C" is pronounced as "K" in the acronym but the name of the drug in the regimen starts with "C" and sounds like "C". Go figure)
8) MI: Bad Tom Cruise movies are now... the big one--a myocardial infarction.

And some things never change....

FOS... I've experience this in both the figurative and literal sense. I prefer the former, it's more laughable, doesn't smell, and is virtually painless.

Urgency as a consequence of procrastination, who me?

2008-06-10T22:15:00.001-07:00

One of my pet peeves at work is (and I am guilty of ranting about it here and here) is how when patients forget or procrastinate, it translates into extra work for me that has now become either a) urgent or b) emergent. This 'state of emergency' can result from the tiniest thing, like waiting until 4:45pm to call on a Friday in order to get a narcotic medication refilled.

Welp, guess who is the turkey now...my trusty, old Widex hearing aides made back in 1994 are now officially antique. And one of them bit the dust about 2 weeks ago. Apparently they don't repair these babies anymore. Due the rapidly aging population, I've discovered the hearing aids are now snazzy little dealies that come in rocket red, shiny metallic blue, come with Bluetooth technology, and can also function as an in-the-ear I-Pod. According to the photos, people that wear hearing aids are extremely chic and unbelievably sexy. In addition, my audiologist tells me that the digital technology is now actually worth all the extra cash one must fork over. He's reassured me; however, that I won't have to fend off errant, unnecessary male suitors.

I have some time off tomorrow to go to an NCCN conference and will take the afternoon to check out Costco and another local audiology place. Just so you have an idea of said prior events leading up to tomorrow:

March 5th-Saw my audiologist. Thought to myself, "I should make sure I get a copy of my audiogram" and forgot to ask for it before I left.

May 22nd-Ye olde hearing aid retired to the sweet hereafter

May 24th-Called the office for a referral to a local audiologist

May 27th-Heard back, referral was to an office in Kirkland. That's a no-go. I live in Seattle, not on SR 520.

June 2nd-Got approval at work for time off on the 11th for more fun with hearing aids. Thought to myself, "I need to get a copy of that audiogram."

June 10th-At 9pm at nite, I started shuffling through my files with the thought that at least I'll have my next most recent audiogram...and discovered the most 'recent' one I have is from 1999. I left a semi-pretty-please, semi-pitiful message on secretary's voicemail about faxing the report to my office tomorrow.... Realize (rather sheepishly and reluctantly) that....I am EXACTLY like those patients.

Long shorts or short pants?

2008-06-09T20:43:00.001-07:00

Remember those yearly elementary class photos when the slightly pedophilic photographer guy with the handlebar mustache would line you and all your classmates up in neat, little rows by height? Well believe it or not, until about the 4th grade I was actually in the taller 50% of the class. That's saying quite a lot because, well, you see...my full grown adult height is a decidedly petite 5ft 3inches.

Genetically, I probably got the best possible height a grandmother of 5 ft, paternal grandmother of maybe 5ft 1 and mother of about 5 ft 2 and a father of 5 ft 8 could give me...but I don't care what anyone says, its definitely a moderate inconvenience to be short.

Case in point: the pants I buy usually need to be shortened (unless, of course, I am fortunate enough to find a petite line that fits well). The pair of pants I put on to wear to work today were shortened about 6 mos ago...and today I realized that perhaps they were too short. To be exact, Andrew was the one to point it out. They definitely reveal a tantalizing bit of sock even if I'm not sitting down. How shocking, indeed. And to think that my husband, not exactly the most attentive to fashion detail (unless it involves revealing things of a flirtatious and feminine nature) was the one to notice.

What I would like to think is that I am growing (yeay, a growth spurt at age 27!) but wait....no...The more unfortunate reality is that these pants have been this fricking short the whole time and I NEVER NOTICED. Think dark brown office-y style pants in a quasi-capri style.

Not good. Not good at all.

How to spoil yourself (a little)

2008-06-03T22:21:00.000-07:00

You are looking at a not-quite-full box of quite possibly the world's best chocolate from none other than Fran's Chocolates. To banish the it's early-June-and-I-can't-believe-it's-still-raining -blues, indulge the sweet tooth, and provide yet another reason to cuddle on the couch with your sweetie, these little babies are just the thing.

And they're decadent enough that by savoring 2 or 3 at a time, even the most voracious chocolate hound can sigh contentedly with happiness. (Or take a deep breath and shovel down the rest of the box, ha ha....) From the lusciousness of a bittersweet truffle to the sweet texture of a hazelnut truffle to the smokiness of a salted caramel, every flavor combination is like a meticulously crafted symphony.

It actually took us 3 days to polish off this box o'chocolates. And when you buy the good stuff, you know what you're gonna get: pure, chocolately bliss with quality ingredients, amazing flavors.

I am generally not a fancy-pants girl with most things. But you won't find me skimping on the chocolate. Once your taste buds are bedazzled by these, you'll wonder why you *ever* bothered eating anything else.

(Hey, do you think I can quit my day job and just write about food from now on? =)

got toys?

2008-05-28T07:52:00.000-07:00

I was puttering about in the kitchen a few nites ago, making Andrew's frequent request: "chocolate chip cookies, please" when I noticed Sophie had gathered most of her toys and flopped down in this adorable pose.

Kind of reminds me of those cheesy No-Fear t-shirts so popular in bygone middle school days that said things like, "He who dies with the most toys...wins" in big, scary black letters.

This is much cuter, don't ya think?

In one day

2008-05-19T20:54:00.000-07:00

These beautiful flowers just outside our condo bloomed. Someone who has a greener thumb than I, please tell me what they are exactly!

My friend Jen and her husband Joe welcomed their first child, a healthy baby boy, into the world.

I called Drea to wish her happy birthday.

And I got Jo's college graduation announcement in the mail. (Sorry, she's not one of those kool bloggers so I can't add a link here. Too bad 'cause she is one darn good writer even though her degree is in business. Hint, hint...)

All in one day these happy events (or news of pending events) have arrived for some of the special people in my life. This helps bring sanity to my overly manic Monday back at work.

Isn't it a lovely thing to take joy in the momentous events in life for those you love? Can't you tell I'm feeling slightly Anne-of-Green Gable-ish at the moment? =)

(Oh, and Wednesday is husband's dearest birthday. Now if only I was as sneaky about gifts and surprises as he is!)

Cookie or truth?

2008-05-15T20:47:00.001-07:00

Ok... if I was considering a career change (which I am not) and took cookie fortunes seriously, (which I don't) this would be a rather disturbing prospect. (in bed)

frank discussions

2008-05-05T21:52:00.000-07:00

One of the realities of doing the kind of work I do is that people die. There are some folks that beat the odds and survive their illness, but the unfortunate truth is that I work with many who never had great hope even in the beginning of their journey.

These past 2 weeks I have picked up the phone 3 times to be informed of a patient's death, and 3 others through voice-mail messages. Even though the emotion conveyed through a phone is far removed from the emotion, physical demands, and reality of caring for the dying, it is still there. It is still felt.

And sometimes I have very frank discussions with wives, husbands, siblings very shortly before someone's death...and in some cases, afterwards. Awkward as this may seem, it actually isn't really all that awkward for me anymore. The things that people need out of our conversation are simple. For most, being able to tell their story while not feeling like they are burdening someone is more than enough.

What continually amazes me is the strength and love that people draw on to meet the needs of the dying. I have never had a conversation with someone who expressed regret at bringing their loved ones home to die--despite the logistical challenges (not to mention emotional challenges!) faced. I have known petite women who soldiered on to provide care to a much larger, bed-bound spouse; ex-spouses who put aside their differences to care for a dying spouse, a daughter with a severely disabled child of her own somehow finding the reserve of time and strength to attend to her father... Times like this show that our capacity for compassion, strength, forgiveness are truly unbounded.

On the lighter side, I was sharing with Andrew on the way home how I felt about a conversation I had with a patient's partner after their death...somehow this digressed into Andrew and I talking about whether or not we would do CPR on each-other given certain hypothetical situations. You know, we were just having regular, everyday hubbie-n-wifey talk.

Somehow one of the scenarios we discussed was choking on a hot dog (one of the most commonly choked on foods for young children, steak is the primary culprits for adults). Apparently my wifely duty is not only to successfully perform the Heimlich and resuscitate if needed, but also to save the hot dog. Because if it was good enough to choke on, it's still good enough to eat.

Yup, just another everyday peek into our lives....

To help initiate more serious discussions with your loved ones, try this great resource: Five Wishes

In the past 3 weeks or thereabouts

2008-05-02T21:50:00.000-07:00

For whatever reason, haven't felt much inclined to blog lately. A few notable moments to share:

1. Climbed real rock, outside, with rope and stuff. Loved the feeling of real rock (and not artificial hand & footholds aka Stone Garden Gym style), the sound of the Wenatchee river, and the mental clarity of planning a route without colored tape as a guide. While rappelling down, my imagination almost convinced me I was the next Bond girl...or something equally devious and glamorous.

Got really, really, dirty. Not quite so glamorous. I could not believe the amount of gunk that washed off my body in the shower later that day. Reviewing the pictures that Andrew took, I also could not believe how massive one's behind can become when photographed from down below...seriously frightening stuff. (Note to self: massive behind photos not conducive to Bond-girl lifestyle....must activate operation search & destroy)

2. Went to the Pancreatic Cancer Action Network Symposium-my first ever integrated educational day. Interdisciplinary healthcare workers, caregivers, and patients were present--to my delighted surprise, the combination of laypeople and professionals was refreshingly complementary.

There are an astounding amount of savvy, inspired patients out there! I sat next to a survivor of 4 years and his lovely wife of 40 years. The Pancreatic Cancer is one fantastic organization that is doing much to advocate for our 4th leading cause (and by far worst federally funded) of cancer death. I griped about this in a previous post on colorectal cancer.

3. Got a crappy, gunky, cough-y thing that made me feel like an achy 80-year old woman for a few days. Got a call from work to inform me that the 'sick' policy requires a doctor's note. WTF? This is a professional workplace people, not kindergarten! If we all went to the doctor with every cold, sniffle, and flu...I think they'd all go postal.

4. Helped construct and slept in a snow cave. Seriously. I think the work division was something like Andrew 90%, Rae 10%..... There's really not a lot of room to dig these things out.

Despite what you may think, it's warmer than sleeping in a tent. And you can customize the inside with little alcoves for candles and all your gear. I wish I'd had enough time to have taken a few pictures of the inside, because it was just really unique. Just be sure to spend lots of time smoothing out the ceiling so it doesn't drip on you overnight. And allow a minimum of 4 hours for proper construction. All this work might be worth it if you're spending multiple nites out on the snow. (Now who in their right minds would do such a thing?) Certainly I can't really imagine being in a situation where you'd have to construct something like this...perhaps to weather out a massive storm or something, but I guess now we can say that we know how!

Not quite a Stepford complex

2008-04-20T09:34:00.000-07:00

Trying to come to terms with the fact that I do not have a clean, remotely perfect living space is easier said than done.

There's 2 loads of laundry still to do. And 1 clean load to fold and put away. At least the week's ironing is done (just 2 shirts, but still...I ironed!)

The upstairs room is a disaster area. Even though we got one of the last storage spaces available on the property, Andrew still needs to install shelving before we can actually use it. All of our past 3 weekends have involved traveling in a car for several hours and days spent hiking or battling rock or snow. Fun activities in and of themselves, but with mess consequences. Hence, everything is splattered across the floor-snowshoes, ropes, shovels, miscellaneous electronics, overnight packs....Put it this way, if there were a major disaster in Seattle right now, I think we would have something like a highly disorganized 6 day survival kit.

But, we still need to find some time to relax, right? So off I go to the SAM's exhibit with my mom, trying to turn a blind eye to all this clutter.

Wish me luck! Perhaps I need an outfit like the poster girl here to get into the spirit of things.

I knew it....

2008-04-17T07:38:00.000-07:00

I married one crazy, Latin-blooded man who comes from an equally eccentric country. Here's the proof. (I'd post a funny picture of Andrew here, but I'm afraid I just might get in too much trouble.=)

And for the record, he calls lions "big kitties." Good thing we don't have a backyard.

lessons (somewhat painfully) learned

2008-04-06T20:26:00.000-07:00

When you go hiking with a large group of people with the goal of getting to Camp Muir in early April, please keep in mind the following:

1. If you husband purchases new walkie-talkies, make sure that in addition to knowing how to use its fancy functions that you actually know how to turn the darn thing ON.
2. There really isn't a need to take a shovel when you're mostly traveling ON the trail with multiple people who AREN'T carrying shovels (why should ya worry about digging them out when they can't return the favor anyways?)
3. Your Platypus water is likely to dribble from the mouthpiece at the beginning of your hike, causing a great deal of frustration...and then later on, it freezes! Don't put the extra bottle of water at the very BOTTOM of your pack.
4. Be prepared for ALL kinda of crazy weather and even you are dressed appropriately, plan on dealing with certain discomforts--such as your nose dripping snot, and then freezing because it's so cold. Yummy, snotty popsicles!
5. Familiarize yourself with the trail bearings BEFORE you go out on the trail. You really don't feel like whipping off your gloves to do map work in white out (or near white out conditions).

I think that's enough for now...more interesting posts soon to come. Photo is stolen from somebody else's website, and please note, the snow was much deeper, the sky was foggy, full of sleeting snow at times and it was snowshoes all the waaay, baby.

Craziness...

2008-03-29T22:01:00.000-07:00

As in this insane, inane, schizoid weather we are having. It is almost freaking April, what the frickety frack is going on here? Even Sophie has the common sense to walk under the eaves when nature calls and nature is icily and windily precipitous.

And this collection of twitter comments proves that I'm not the only one that thinks this way. Remember those old folklore sayings you learn about the months of the year in elementary school? Yeah, the one about March coming in like a lion and going out like a lamb? Remember when you used make some little doo-dad out of construction paper, bring it home to your mom where it would be displayed on the fridge for about a week?

I think I'm going to have to locate sweet, silver-haired Mrs. Holt and ask her why she lied to me all those years ago...

almost sisters

2008-03-27T18:37:00.001-07:00

This hairstylist knew her stuff. She walked up, thoughtfully listened to what I had to say, and said, "let's do this...." She didn't ask me which way I parted my hair. Anybody with a rudimentary knowledge of hair can clearly see I have a prominent cowlick that basically prevents me from having bangs or evenly parted hair. If you deal with hair on a daily basis, and you ask me 'which way I part my hair'--honey, you're in the wrooong business and I'm not coming back.

I was brave enough to have my hair short recently--or at least short for me. With all my quirks (prominent cowlick, hair that won't part down the middle, hair that doesn't hold a curl, and a hair-owner that isn't committed to styling much) I managed to come out of it with a decent, manageable hair style. No more wash-n-wear for me.

Despite the nasty weather on Sunday, I had a relaxing Easter with the family at my sister's cute little suite in Bonney Lake. Even got to do the meet-n-grill of the new man in her life. Ok, so I was actually pretty nice. I think Dad did most of the grilling--that's how it goes.

I brought my new *camera*--a Nikon D-40, an almost- professional and a *huge* step up from a point-n-shoot. Mom immediately had to try it out and take pictures of her favorite subjects: her two daughters, of course. Most of the pictures Bree looked great, but I had a funny expression either due to helping direct -"No, that button!" or hoping that it wasn't somehow going to get mangled in the process. =)

I realized that we have (almost) the exact same haircut. And we still don't look *that* much like sisters. To date, I've shown this picture to several folks who have never met my sister, and they say..."Oh she's cute....who is she? Oh really, huh.....you don't look alike at all, do you?".

Well, I guess this is as good as it's gonna get!

a poe-em for thursday

2008-03-20T20:16:00.000-07:00

Lately on the shuttle ride home from work, I've had little poetic inspirations. Commute time to me is usually down time, and a time to try to neatly fold and put away the miscellaneous pieces of my day. I figured out a long time ago as a stressed-out new nurse that if I didn't do this, inevitably I would wake up in the night worried about a medication I'd given but not charted, or a lab value I forgot to check. Andrew has patiently listened to me babble on about certain situations I just need to get out of my head.

Sometimes when I resort to scribblings they are just personal catharsis, other times more light-hearted.

This is the one from today....

enthusiastic but discombobulated
(all floppy, fuzzy ears and unruly legs)
black wet nose searches amongst
the grass
the sidewalk
the dirt
that unrecognizable shred of garbage
for the perfect location

the perplexed companion
thoroughly wrapped in raiments
of rain-proof yellow
cowers in the downpour
and exasperated, yells...

"Dammit dog!
Just pee already!"

Of course, this has no relationship whatsoever to my own...personal, ah...dog-owning experience. Nope.

Not at all.

A real life example....

2008-03-18T22:07:00.001-07:00

Hair today..........

and gone tomorrow.

(Sophie says thank you for her spa day to Sheila!)

Look, ma! It's my first me-me

2008-03-18T21:36:00.000-07:00

Never done this before. It's sort of a reversal on those "see how much you know about me" forwards but cooler and more grown up. =) Maybe. Definitely more blog-ish. You and I have Jen to thank for it.

Here are the rules...
1. Link to your tagger and post these rules on your blog.
2. Share 7 facts about yourself on your blog, some random, some weird.
3. Tag 7 people at the end of your post by leaving their names as well as links to their blogs.
4. Let them know they are tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

Seven more and lesser known facts from the world o' Rae.

1. I am a pretty mild dresser, nothing too trendy, nothing too formal...and you'll never find me in a t-shirt unless I'm doing a work-out. I like to have a bit of fun with my socks. Under my work khakis on Friday you would have found pink hello kitty socks. And I was thrilled to receive a recent gift of Airedale socks from Sheila. My first pair of 'golfing only' socks had hot pink pom-poms on the back of the heel. My dresser drawer might as well have a sign that says "Boring socks keep out!"

2. Andrew surprised me a few years ago on my birthday with an easel, canvases, and arcylic paint. I've recently been dabbling in it mostly for fun. It's much more challenging than drawing! Eventually, with time and patience...I might be happy enough with something to share. But for now, I'm just saving my yogurt cups to dip my brushes in and dragging my sleeves (accidentally) in the paint and just having fun.

3. I'd much rather be a passenger than a driver. Luckily, so far Andrew doesn't seem to mind.

4. Despite the fact that I have lived and enjoyed being in the city for all of my adult life, I still have quite a few 'country girl' moments. You know what they say 'bout that.

5. Ever seen the Seinfield episode The Label Maker? In a subplot theme, George reveals his love for velvet...

New scene.
George and his girlfriend, Bonnie, are entering her apartment.

Bonnie: Well, here we are. This is the place.

George: Wow.

Bonnie: Do you like it?

George: I love it! This is fantastic! Look at this couch, is this velvet?!

Bonnie: Are you a velvet fan?

George: A fan? I would drape myself in velvet if it were socially acceptable.

What does this have to do with my me-me? Well, I've never quite outgrown the love small children have for those blankets with silk edges. For the majority of my life I've had silk pillow cases. Not that I'm especially fussy, must-have-all-the-luxuries sort of person but nothing feels quite so nice as a little bit of silk against your skin.

Could I drape myself in it? Now there's a thought.

6. I'm afraid I have a bit of the familial pack-rat trait. It's hard to just throw things away or goodwill them once they've outgrown their usefulness. But I'm getting better, really!

7. Being in you late 20s is a weird stage in life for me. While I spent my early 20s getting my college education and career squared away, I'm now trying to focus more on me while looking a bit ahead in life and figuring out what I want out of it. And it's surprising how distracted I can get!

Ok! Now it's your turn.... Here's who I'm tagging:

Drea Since she's suffering from blogger-block but otherwise rocks my world.
Bree So she has something to do on a slow 911 nite. =)
Kimi Cause Sophie told me to!
Cheryl Because even though we live in the same city, I just don't see her enough.
Tania I'm sure she's holding out some new nifty crafty projects she hasn't gotten around to blogging about yet...
Jaime Even though I don't know her in real life, this sassy mama always has something interesting to say!

Shoot I don't know any boy bloggers or a 7th blogger I can bother for a me-me! =) If you lurk and have a blog, de-lurk and me-me yourself--but leave a comment so I can come say hi!

Quote of the day...

2008-03-17T20:26:00.000-07:00

Truth can be such an elusive thing, can't it? Truth in words, in thought, intentions, and deeds. And not succumbing to gossip? Ooh, that can be tough. Especially when it's mundane Monday with lots of tasks eagerly awaiting your less-then-eager self.

This was the quote on a coworker's desk calendar today that led to my brief musing...

The Honor of Virtue

What I say is what I meant
& what I saw is what I said
But neither seen nor spoke
Is what I think I thought

--Charles Bernstein

Get out your blues

2008-03-11T22:06:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow this rebel is breaking dress code by breaking out the blue jeans...all for the lesser known fanfare of colorectal cancer awareness day. Yup, you guessed it--I'll be donned in blue for Colorectal Cancer Awareness day, March 12th.

Nurse Rae's Top Ten Reasons why you should care

1) It's one of the most treatable forms of cancer if found early.
2) Unlike some prominent cancers which can be difficult to diagnose and don't have screening tools, there's a form of screening to reduce your risk--For average risk folks, simple screening (colonoscopy) every 10 years beginning at age 50.
3) If you're jaded by other cancer awareness 'promotionals'....ponder this: Instead of promoting useless loads of pink crap that barely turn a profit to the actual cause they portend to aide, colon cancer awareness groups sell useful items--like toilet paper.
4) Colonoscopies can save lives. Read my friend's nurse practitioner Jen's recent patient story here.
5) Put out the butts, people. Smokers are 40% more likely to succumb to this disease.
6) Another reason to pat yourself on the back when you exercise, eat lotsa veggies and maintain a healthy weight--you're reducing your risk!
7) It ain't just for old folks--this can happen at any age, and 9 out of 10 ARE older than 50. But it can affects us young twenty-somethings too--particularly if there's preexisting bowel problems or a familial history.
8) It's the second leading cause of cancer death (right after lung cancer). You probably don't hear about it as often as some of the others...because like your grandmother might have told you, "rectal" and "colon" are improper conversation topics for a young lady.
9) The NCI spending for other cancers that are not as prevalent as colon cancer (such as breast and prostrate) has generally been significantly MORE. For example, in 2004 breast garnered $584 million and prostrate $323 mil, compared to colorectal's $276.4 mil.
10) Colon cancer survivors can be downright sexy, as this calendar model and real-life survivor emulates. But with all due respect...I'll take a once every decade date with Golytely (colonoscopy) over a date with a surgeon any day.

Random Friday wonderings and iffings

2008-03-07T20:17:00.001-08:00

If anybody knows the answers to these questions....I am all ears.

Some thoughts I pondered today....

1) If you have an unintentional wedgie for most of the day, does it mean that your underwear is too big, or too small? (which is probably just another way of saying that something else, ahem, is the former or the latter. I'm reluctant to admit that it could likely be the former.)

2) Is there a solution to reheating vegetarian pizza so that the pizza doesn't turn out soggy? I've tried broiling it. Came out just as soggy with a moderate amount of burning on top. Go figure.

3) If you leave a stuffed animal resembling the resident feline where your dog can find it, what do you think might happen? Despite what you might think, this is *not* a posed picture, I woke up and walked up the stairs to find this scenario-she was actually licking the heck out of this thing before I snapped the photo.

4) If a patient doesn't understand something that the doctor told them, and you try to clear the matter up with the doctor by prefacing the conversation with, "Your patient was confused about this, and wanted to know...." and the initial response is "I already discussed that with the patient" and continues to resist your attempts to discuss the matter further...are they just simply not listening to you, blowing you off, or just having a bad day?

5) If your sweet husband, who does an extremely generous amount of housework but generally doesn't do anything with laundry except sometimes ensure that it makes it through the washer and dryer has actually washed, dried, AND folded clothes AND put them away... have you achieved the 7th heaven of married life or did he simply just run out of underwear?

6) If you volunteer to help with the destruction of a building that is going to be remodeled into something fabulous, and you're asked to bring knee pads, a climbing harness, a helmet, eye protection, power tools, and be prepared to be outside all day...what the frick are you really going to be doing? Can't I just hand out the donuts instead?

These, my friends, are the things that keep me up at nite.

that beloved old rag

2008-02-28T18:57:00.000-08:00

I'll 'fess up to having worn a few clothing items well past their prime--faded jeans developing holes, sweaters with ragged sleeves...but nobody espouses this oddity better than my darling husband. Unlike myself, he doesn't seem able...(or perhaps willing?) to recognize the sorry state of said beloved garment.

Andrew has a tattered old blue shirt that is a funky old 70's style design which commemorates "Mud Bay"-- the place where his sailboat is moored. Yup, it's way the heck up there in White Rock, BC. Which explains why we haven't used the boat. Which maybe explains why he loves the shirt so much. Otherwise, I can never see my husband purchasing a baby blue shirt with kiddie-like drawings of sunshine and whales. Seriously. He's just not that kind of guy. I once bought him a baby blue shirt (almost exact same color) and I got an earful about my colour choice on that one. =)

But he does, however, adore this shirt. Even though he won't admit it, the frequency that he wears it tells no lies. And even though I've been pointing at the pit stains, pills, and thin spots that a frequently worn t-shirt inevitably falls prey to, he seems blind to it ALL.

But no more--the other nite I helped myself to one of Andrew's shirts to sleep in. And I'll let you guess which shirt it was.

Andrew: "Oh wow, those stains look really bad."
Me: "Yes, honey....I've tried to tell you."
Andrew: "I know but...I don't think it looks that way on me... I mean, maybe they're more noticeable because of your boobs...or something."
Me (stifling laughter): No, Andrew....I don't think so! This is what I've been trying to tell you."

So all you ladies out there with ragamuffin men in your lives...you know who you are...this could be the way to finally get your message across. Someone is going to be a bit in trouble for this post once he gets around to checking my blog again, but I truly believe this info must be shared. =)

how to have a happy cat

2008-02-23T08:39:00.000-08:00

Andrew and I have been starting to go to indoor climbing gyms the past few weeks. While I was lucky enough to have a co-worker who passed her climbing shoes onto me, Andrew had been climbing in either a) his beat up, tried old sneakers I complained about a very old post or
b) hilariously, his huge mountaineering shoes.

No more....after yet another trip to REI, he came home with climbing shoes of his very own AND a little something for Layla. Who needs fancy cat furniture when all it takes is a good old-fashioned box, my friends?

Layla in the climbing shoe box.

Layla in Andrew's mountaineering shoe box. Yes, the shoes are a bright, eye-blistering green.

couldn't even if I tried

2008-02-20T23:31:00.000-08:00

It is a well known fact that we humans love to procrastinate. From homework and chores in childhood to...oh, paying bills, going to the dentist, changing the oil in your car as an adult. Not surprisingly, apparently folks also are known to procrastinate when it comes to matters of their health and well-being. Even the folks that already know they're in a somewhat sick and fragile state.

When Friday afternoon rolls around, I tend to get the craziest...and I do mean...CRAZIEST calls from patients. I can't even begin to HIPPA-ize this stuff, because honestly...It's already so outrageous and if I must HIPPA-ize while retaining some semblance of 'believe-ability' then the sheer genius of it all is lost. It would be either waaay to outrageous or understated.

So I'm going to attempt with another scenario.

Let's say that you own a 7-11 and you've been robbed and punched up a bit. Then, for some unknown reason (maybe because the punch gave you a small concussion) you continue to go about your business. You know, tidy up a bit, get out the first aid kit, whatever. Just walk it off.

A few hours go by...and whaddya know, there's another hold-up. Except this time you're a little more battered. This guy was really upset because...well heck, you were already robbed. All robber no 2 made off with was the penny rolls the other dude didn't bother taking, a few donuts and a six pack. And for good measure since he was having an especially sucky day in his criminal career, he pummeled you a bit more and tied you up to the register but somehow left you within reach of the phone.

It is only at this point, with your left eye swelling shut that you somehow remember that this thing called 911 exists exactly for your current situation. And so you finally resolve to dial what you should have dialed after incident no 1.

Do ya think they're gonna catch the bad guy and be of any real actual help to you at this point?

Methinks not.

So the moral of the story is...when I give you my business card and we talk for an hour or more about important reasons to get medical attention, I want you to do exactly that when the situation arises.

I. really. do. Cause I'm sure you'd much rather get seen in clinic and then directly admitted to the hospital and not gamble on the jungle that is otherwise known as the emergency department.

doctors don't get sick days

2008-02-19T19:47:00.001-08:00

So as many of you know, the flu season started with a vengeanance this year. And unfortunately for those of us who got our flu shots, the predictions were grossly off target.

So while I have worked in many a place where folks constantly push the envelope of coming in to work while ill, the era of the coughing coworker is ancient history. The sick policy is now so strict that if you cough while taking a sip of water, folks are starting to raise eyebrows. God help you if you suffer from allergies or frequent sinus infections, because if you do, you must see the occupational health RN and be the recipient of a nasal wash. Which, by the way...takes about 1.5 days to get resulted; which means you are subsequently BANNED for the interim.

At first, when the madness started everyone had to wear gloves with ANY patient contact whatsoever. Even if body fluids weren't involved. Even if you were a receptionist who occasionally handed papers back and forth with the patient but spent the majority of the time typing and on the phone.

Craziness. And questionably effective. Evidence-based practice my arse.

While I at first was somewhat sympathetic with these extra precautions having worked with hoarse-voiced, narrowly suppressed coughing nurses in the past, the love-all let's glove-all approach initially resembled insanity from a bad movie. Luckily it was short-lived. But then it gave birth to a new phenomenon--a very strict sick policy. This includes daily staff self-assessment (exemplified by a dated sticker that must be plastered across your physical person in an OBVIOUS location) in addition to surveying each and every person--man, woman, child, and service animal-- entering the clinic.

Now this is a measure I can definitely support. Unfortunately it hasn't been without its consequences in terms of staffing. I don't think anyone could have possibly imagined the huge staffing impact this would have. In several instances, things have been kept at a barely functional level. And the temporary staff hired to help out with the anticipation of the impact of flu season is predictably under-trained.

So while patient have been quite understanding and appreciative of this vigilance, those of the staff who miraculously manage to avoid being ill (such as myself) have been trudging along, occasionally contemplating the merits of taking a 'mental health day'. =)

Exampled of creepy-crawlies occasionally found within hospital rooms

One of the things docs are (with a few exceptions) notorious about is foregoing, ignoring, or being completely oblivious to (? which is it?) infection control policies. Over 4 years of inpatient nursing, I have repeatedly seen troupes of residents and attendings march into MRSA positive or otherwise rooms sans hand hygeine, gowns...and I highly doubt that any of the necessary precautions continues to take place behind closed doors. There is a near certainty that the patient was physically examined in some way-probably by the one poor sucker of a resident who didn't even bother to put an isolation gown on properly while brushing against a bed full of microscopic creepy crawlies. And if I happened to be in the room at the time, gentle reminders or outright protests were voiced.

So now the flip side of all of this is the sick policy is...would you believe it, applies to physicians as well! Their noses must be washed, the results must be known, and they must be symptom-free before entering the clinic! Just imagine--the same rules for the person who does scheduling and is limited to short, non-medical in-person interactions also applies to the person who spends at least 30 minutes with a patient in an enclosed space aka the doc. Oh the brilliance of universal policies.

With only a few exceptions, the patients aren't buying it. And the docs aren't either. I've seen a surprising number of interesting tactics on behalf of clever MDs to circumvent the clutches of the infection control nurses. For a few days now while the doc has been banned, I've managed to turf as many non-urgent issues as possible and defer to other providers. But quite a few patients are more than less appreciative of what they see as these so-called measures to protect their health.

Short of dunking a thermometer in ice water concealed in a coat pocket while the nurse ain't looking, sending in a body double, or inventing a self-hologram I don't put much past this determined doc.

So let's sum it up...doc's voice sounds like a frog, face looks chalky, and there's a rumor that the one MA who can always sweet-talk the doc got an actual temperature on that was definitely not normal.

Who the heck does he think he's kidding? (and hopefully not...ahem, killing?)

on the to-do list

2008-02-17T15:23:00.000-08:00

1) Blog about yesterday's snowshoe hike up Granite Mountain
2) Put away laundry (it's already folded!)
3) Drop off ballot in the mail
4) Bug Andrew to fix or find me some better photo-resizing software so my photos don't come out huge and disoriented. Photo on the right is a case in point!
5) Pick a retirement account (can you hear me snoring yet?)
6) Read chapters on glacier travel and snow-climbing & camping, avalanche awareness in Freedom of the Hills
7) Bake some lemon bars--yummy!
8) Daydream about the warm waters of beautiful Hawaii
9) Take a walk outside with Andrew and Sophie once the frost burns off
10) Oops, reverted back to number 8 for a few seconds there...
11) Call the folks and a couple of girlfriends.
12) Find out if 40,000 points transfers into an airline ticket! I simply have to see Jen and oogle her little baby (nicknamed "puppy" for now) once it is born.

the illustrious life of Sophie

2008-02-08T18:05:00.000-08:00

A few days ago, a certain 4-legged member of our household officially turned 2 years old. Although she hasn't been with us for a full two years yet, I would have to say she's a fairly well-established household member with an unusually high amount of documented...ahem, accomplishments. One of the most prolific Airedale owners, Teddy Roosevelt, was known to say that "The Airedale can do anything any other dog can do...." I think I'd have to add "and then some" to Mr. Roosevelt's statement.

Our first clue that Sophie was a canine of unusual habits was clearly evident on the day we met her. Her prime activity of the time was chasing Rod-Stewart looking chickens around the yard and eating duck poo. (I am no expert in chicken breeds, but trust me...these were bred to look exactly like Rod Stewart) Despite these rather fowl activities, her natural curiousity, sweet personality, and puppy-like cuteness melted our hearts and we took her home.

Chronologically speaking, here's a few examples

Snoozing peacefully while imprisoned in the conehead

Birthday card poster dog

Impromptu face-washer while I'm trying to get a self-portrait atop a massive oceanside rock.

Official perch inspector at Kalaloch Beach...Yup, this one's a keeper!

Under the boardwalk, down by the seaaa....with the doggie in da sand.

She bravely goes where no sane person goes...well, except maybe my husband.

Part 2 to come soon....my photo-resizing software is making me wanna growl and howl. So I think I will enlist Andrew's help and save the rest for another day....

it's not just your imagination

2008-02-04T21:49:00.000-08:00

This evidence was captured at 0756 am from our humble condo porch. Daylight appears! Before leaving for work! No matter how dark, and dreary, and cold...the verdict is that spring is coming. (no thanks to Punxsutawney Phil)

A careful review of facts revealed that the sun actually rose at 0732, but to my limited and coffee-less morning senses it took a little longer to catch on.

and this is your reward

2008-02-02T20:16:00.000-08:00

Looking down from the base of Haystack

Looking down and slightly left (perhaps southeast, but i am a terrible orienteer) of Haystack

For waking up at 7:30 am on a Saturday (oops, slept in an extra 30 minutes)

For fumbling around with all your gear and fitting it into some sense of normalcy in you pack. Your huge, heavy, overnight-laden pack.

For realizing as you hit the trailhead that since you're carrying a huge backpack anyway for conditioning with all the stuff you won't wind up using on a day trip, why in the heck did you leave your waterproof mittens at home?

For hiking a trail I'm really not all that fond of, this review expresses it perfectly, but know is a great choice for conditioning purposes.

For that rude group of 8 tourists who don't know the trail etiquette of red-faced hiker puffing upwards gets right of way over massive troupe i-podding and chatting it up on their cellphones downwards. Might I mention, 7 of these 8 people are PACK-less. Their non-stop talking tour guide appears to be the 'mule' for the group.

For your feet yelling to you that they prefer to be in your comfy, broken-in hiking shoes and not the stiff new mountaineering shoes.

For your cold hands (since you neglected to bring your mittens) struggling to lace up your cramp-ons at the top of Mt Si, which is notoriously windy and slippery this time of year. But luckily your nice husband (who did not forget his gloves) loans his own gloves to you thus saving you from certain finger amputation. (ok, a bit of an exaggeration, I must admit)

Sophie running amuck chasing a bird at the base of Haystack (once we got home this trail dynamo promptly said hello to the kitty and snuggled into her crate with a tired sigh)

So was it all worth it? Yes. But for what it's worth (and I am going to be very unladylike here)...the Mt. Si trail sucks. And for all that uphill that took 3 hours and close to 4000ft elevation gain, you only get like 2 view spots. And most of the people who use the trail somehow manage to make it suck worse. I'd much rather take the trail less traveled by...

Happy 2nd Birthday!

2008-02-01T07:54:00.000-08:00

Sophie turns 2 today! So as much as I dote on our poochie, I won't be making her 'dog birthday cake'. But she will have the fun of a weekend hike with us and hopefully a bath...and if I'm really ambitious, I may groom her while Andrew is off being a typical man on Super-Bowl Sunday...so she will be all smart Airedale-style for a 2yr old picture.

This is Sophie on the day we got her at 12 weeks old. We brought her home without even a leash (we had to stop and buy one on the way home) and haven't looked back since. That's our girl!

before the day awakes

2008-01-30T06:46:00.000-08:00

I'm up a bit before the usual time this morning with a wee bit of a headache. So I probably shouldn't be blogging, but I am otherwise being quite good--drinking some mint tea and having a bit of cornbread.

Apparently some readers were hopeful for climbing pictures. But the problem is, I haven't really 'climbed' anything yet! So far, I'm basically learning a bunch of techniques. Although I did prussik my way up and down the mountaineers smelly old gym last Wednesday, that was hardly photo-worthy (Why do old buildings always stink so badly? Or maybe just ones that are usually full of the odiferous, i'm gonna-save-the-world-by-never-taking-a-shower sort of peeps?) Once there actually is something worth taking a photo of, I promise you I will be here in all my non-smelly glory.

It's been a bit of a strange week at work with 2 codes in clinic; only one 'real' code. Being a nurse but now being on the outside of direct patient care is awfully strange. For me, codes used to be pretty intense. Sure, we still had a 'code team' that would come and take over the directing of the code, but I was still fairly heavily involved--with meds, vitals, supporting family members, whatever needed doing. Now, it's basically help direct the medic unit to the exam room, or at best take a blood pressure, then step out of the room and let the code team do their thing.

Well here's wishing everyone a fine 'hump day' and that the weekend comes quickly! Leaving you with an unusual photo of a sculpted face along the Lake Pratt trail which Andrew, Sophie and I hiked on MLK weekend. And because I can't resist, one of Sophie with her snowy beard. The first comment by everyone we met along the trail was: "Wow, your dog really loves the snow!" And the second was..."Why are your packs so big?" (For conditioning purposes, we both had fully-loaded overnight packs.)

here i go...

2008-01-22T08:00:00.000-08:00

After practicing looking irresistably sexy (yeah right) in my climbing harness and muddling my way through knots these past 4 days (with a LOT of help from Andrew) after work tonite we'll head down to the mountaineers to practice prussiking. All in the safety, warmth, and comfort of the gym. I think the neighbors have probably been wondering why there's an unusually high incidence of muttered curses were coming from the apartment--that's purely to express the frustration with my idiocy at bowlines on a bight and double bowlines.

Oh, and I forgot to mention we'll be going after a yummy dinner in the international district. You don't get much comfier and safer than that. Even still, I'm a bit nervous! Wish me luck...

assumption and omission

2008-01-20T19:08:00.000-08:00

They met in the winter of her 28th year. Both were successful, attractive, with enviable positions in their lives. They shared a common background and in all respects were perfect for and passionate about one another.

For some time her father was ill. As the family custom dictated, as the eldest daughter she became his caretaker. Their marriage was postponed and 4 years slipped away. Her father endured many harsh treatments but to the surprise of everyone eventually overcame his disease.

After waiting patiently, they married. All their friends and family rejoiced and in their hearts they felt fulfillment. They carefully nurtured their relationship throughout the next five years until they were finally ready to pursue their next dream: to have a child.

But then he fell ill and unlike most illness, this did not resolve with homemade chicken soup and rest. Their former life was disrupted by a slew of doctor's visits. The product of these visits consisted of dozens of exams and tests with words like "invasive" and "malignant" carefully explained to them in quiet, sympathetic tones.

Perhaps because they were no longer a young couple, (indeed, the gentleman had entered his 50th year) or perhaps it was a morning bereft of the typical double latte, or a night spent soothing an inconsolable infant, it never occurred to the oncologist that they desired children. According to his usual routine he explained the expected major side effects of the man's chemotherapy treatment: nausea, fatigue, low blood counts, and hair loss. The potential amount of extra years that could be gained and the probability of a cure were discussed. The logistics of his treatment schedule were finalized.

Before they left the office, the man's wife squeezed his hand and said, "Don't worry, honey...we're stronger than this. I believe in you."

Later that week on the man's first day of treatment just minutes before the medication oozed into his veins (that would eventually make him infertile) it occurred to his wife to ask their infusion nurse if their dream was still possible. The answer was disappointing, but of greater concern to her was the precious life of her husband. He was too nervous about the plastic iv catheter in his arm to process the negative answer.

When she lay awake that night while her exhausted husband breathed softly beside her in the familiar rhythm of sleep, the creeping tears stole her former composure. As if saying a prayer, into the darkness she repeated, "We're stronger than this... I believe in you."

couldn't have said it better myself

2008-01-17T19:16:00.000-08:00

“JD, I spend most of my time here getting orders barked at me by people who take credit for my work and blame me for their mistakes. And all the while I’m expected to hold the resident’s hand. You should try trading places with me for one day.”

-Carla, RN, Scrubs

Lights! Camera! Action!

2008-01-15T07:41:00.000-08:00

No, I'm not talking about movie time. I'm actually talking about a sporting event--none other that the soon-to-be-relocated Seattle Sonics.

My Christmas present this year to Andrew was good seats at a hopefully good game: Lakers Vs Sonics, and last nite was exactly that. Although there are certain things to be said about watching an athletic event from your own home and comfy pj's, nothing quite compares to the roar of the crowd and having good enough seats to see the players at more than 1/16 of the real-life size. Section 101 was a definite winner for an outstanding view, and the below pic is actually quite a bit further away than we were, but it does give you a bit of an idea...

We hooted, hollered, and back-seat coached or whatever you call it...(ok, so Andrew probably did a lot more of that than I did) and cheered the Sonics on into a captivating 5 minutes of OT that was decided within the last 20 seconds.--123 to the sonic's 121. Exciting stuff!

Sadly, there were a *lot* more Kobe Bryant jerseys in the crowd than Sonics; and obvious booing at times when a call was made not in Laker's favor. All things considered, Sonics rookie Kevin Durant did reasonably well against such an intimidating, established player....but Kobe of course picked it up so much in the last OT stretch it almost seemed as if he'd been holding back for the entire game and was just playing halfheartedly. (this review describes Kobe as KO'ng the Sonics for those lurking sports fan who actually want to read an accurate game description)

It was quite an enjoyable nite, and even more so watching Andrew's first time at a live sporting event! I should have brought the camera, but this girl didn't think about that. Maybe we'll go back soon. :)