And in case you still think chiggers burrow under your skin....Creepy crawlies from my previous adventure.
May 29, 2011
Have I mentioned...
how much I hate bugs? Not every bug. Many are useful. But some are nothing, to my knowledge, but down right annoying. After my previous post expounding on my great adventures in the wild, I must share that I HATE ticks and chiggers! Oh, and mosquitoes! I bug sprayed prior to leaving yesterday morning, paying special attention to my waist band and ankles...as last Fall I got a severe case of the chiggers. I found the tick yesterday when I got home. Today the small cluster of chigger bites on the back of my arm has made itself known. I immediately had a flash of lying down in the grass very briefly, maybe a minute, even less...stupid me. Now I have the creepy crawlies.
And in case you still think chiggers burrow under your skin....Creepy crawlies from my previous adventure.
And in case you still think chiggers burrow under your skin....Creepy crawlies from my previous adventure.
LARPing...from the other side of the curtain
I have written on this subject before, I am sure. I am a self admitted geek. I have a co-worker that has some vague idea about what larping is, she says I'm a "L"oser (with laughter...and love). I have had more than one person look at me as if I were insane while trying to explain the activity. I am weird. I'm okay with that...but then apparently so are a great number of people I know. Our Facebook group has greater than, that would be this symbol >, 250 members. Anyway, I am not here to defend the hobby. And for those that may find this, and are actually still reading...
LARP: A role-playing game in which the participants assume the roles of fictional characters. Participants determine the actions of their characters based on their characterization, and the actions succeed or fail according to a formal system of rules and guidelines. Within the rules, players have the freedom to improvise; their choices shape the direction and outcome of the game. There is a variety of role-playing game in which players perform their character's physical actions, known as live action role-playing games.
In our case, a swords and dagger, cloak and claw variety. So, anyway...
I spent somewhere in the neighborhood 13 hours running around in the local state park yesterday. Fresh air. Sunshine. Activity. Many people much younger than myself...and a lot that act older than me by degrees. I am learning the ropes, so to speak, of putting together the plot of the story. It's sort of hard to explain. I am, one of many, that is there to guide the story and provide entertainment...we are what happens to the players. I've been doing this side of the game for a year or so and am just now earning some trust of those that run the game. I am getting bigger parts to play, more story, more talking...more fear that I am going to screw something up. Imagine if you had to make something up, as our encounters with players are random, and you only know but a tiny piece of the whole fabric of a story. It's like having read a chapter, or sometimes even a page, of a book and having someone quiz you on the book. Sometime it feels like that book is their biography. They know more than you.
After having played in games a decade or so, God I am old, I am seeing how hard it is to run one. The props, make up, costuming, characters, timing, rules...keeping it all straight. It is all very much like a play. People need to know their lines (with only a general outline instead of a well rehearsed script), be dressed appropriate to the character and be in the proper position at the right time. Then throw in the improv. People don't show up, things get lost, something takes longer than expected and runs into another planned encounter. And sometimes, people don't react as expected...no matter how hard you guide them to something. So you suddenly find yourself scrambling to keep the flow as your wrecked story line goes tumbling over the dam. What fun! Sometimes it's not a big deal, but sometimes this is a plot line that is supposed to flow out into the future of the game, to be built upon and revisited...you know, in the sequel.
It is hard work and hot (outdoors) and gritty (did I mention costuming and makeup...oh and outdoors, in the summer heat...with like, bugs) and I look forward to it every time.
LARP: A role-playing game in which the participants assume the roles of fictional characters. Participants determine the actions of their characters based on their characterization, and the actions succeed or fail according to a formal system of rules and guidelines. Within the rules, players have the freedom to improvise; their choices shape the direction and outcome of the game. There is a variety of role-playing game in which players perform their character's physical actions, known as live action role-playing games.
In our case, a swords and dagger, cloak and claw variety. So, anyway...
I spent somewhere in the neighborhood 13 hours running around in the local state park yesterday. Fresh air. Sunshine. Activity. Many people much younger than myself...and a lot that act older than me by degrees. I am learning the ropes, so to speak, of putting together the plot of the story. It's sort of hard to explain. I am, one of many, that is there to guide the story and provide entertainment...we are what happens to the players. I've been doing this side of the game for a year or so and am just now earning some trust of those that run the game. I am getting bigger parts to play, more story, more talking...more fear that I am going to screw something up. Imagine if you had to make something up, as our encounters with players are random, and you only know but a tiny piece of the whole fabric of a story. It's like having read a chapter, or sometimes even a page, of a book and having someone quiz you on the book. Sometime it feels like that book is their biography. They know more than you.
After having played in games a decade or so, God I am old, I am seeing how hard it is to run one. The props, make up, costuming, characters, timing, rules...keeping it all straight. It is all very much like a play. People need to know their lines (with only a general outline instead of a well rehearsed script), be dressed appropriate to the character and be in the proper position at the right time. Then throw in the improv. People don't show up, things get lost, something takes longer than expected and runs into another planned encounter. And sometimes, people don't react as expected...no matter how hard you guide them to something. So you suddenly find yourself scrambling to keep the flow as your wrecked story line goes tumbling over the dam. What fun! Sometimes it's not a big deal, but sometimes this is a plot line that is supposed to flow out into the future of the game, to be built upon and revisited...you know, in the sequel.
It is hard work and hot (outdoors) and gritty (did I mention costuming and makeup...oh and outdoors, in the summer heat...with like, bugs) and I look forward to it every time.
May 27, 2011
A nice compliment/Saying good-bye
A doctor came by today to say good-bye. He had resigned to move on to another position prior to my decision to do the same. Today was his last day...I still have two weeks. He told me that he would truly miss me, that no matter his mood, I was always able to put a smile on his face. He continued, saying that I possessed a rare talent. I took that as a compliment. Brightening someones day, when I am just being me...sarcastic, opinionated, flippant, is a bonus. As he started to walk away, he turned back and said, "And you're a damn fine care manager too." I appreciated the vote of confidence. One of those things I hope to take with me, the other, I hope to leave behind.
May 25, 2011
Where my brain is...
I have to ask myself why my last three blog posts have included food references...pictures even.
Another one of life's questions
I have previously considered, and written about, the things we do day in and day out without really thinking about them. This morning, I realized another one.
I know few people that eat the heel of the bread. Around here, we open the loaf and dig beyond that first slice for the launching pad of a great...or even mediocre, sandwich. This is repeated throughout the life of the loaf until end meets end. I hate to think of how many years I have been repeating this pattern over and over. Then, suddenly this morning, while making toast, my brain asks, "Why don't you toss out that impediment of bread?" Permanently removing it from the equation. Not like it serves a purpose. Doesn't keep the bread fresher. Doesn't serve as bookend to the loaf. Hmmm, I wondered. Why haven't I thought of this before? Why today?
Then I twisted the twisty tie around the loose end of the bread sleeve and tossed it back in the cabinet...only missing the squishy soft slices from the center.
I know few people that eat the heel of the bread. Around here, we open the loaf and dig beyond that first slice for the launching pad of a great...or even mediocre, sandwich. This is repeated throughout the life of the loaf until end meets end. I hate to think of how many years I have been repeating this pattern over and over. Then, suddenly this morning, while making toast, my brain asks, "Why don't you toss out that impediment of bread?" Permanently removing it from the equation. Not like it serves a purpose. Doesn't keep the bread fresher. Doesn't serve as bookend to the loaf. Hmmm, I wondered. Why haven't I thought of this before? Why today?
May 24, 2011
Crash and burn
Apparently, I have hit my emotional wall. That place where little things become overwhelming. Jeez, it seems I've used that word a lot lately...overwhelmed. Therein lies the problem, when life exceeds your coping mechanisms. I was chugging along just fine, until someone had to throw their problems under my bus. Can't control the world...despite my every effort. This too shall pass. A good nights sleep and I get to start over tomorrow.
But, maybe first...ice cream.
I eat my problems. Sue me.
But, maybe first...ice cream.
I eat my problems. Sue me.
May 19, 2011
Peas
I am feeling a bit overwhelmed...not terribly surprising considering the mouthful I have chomped off. I have great faith in myself. I know I can...and I usually do. But every now and then the plate gets a little too full. I am having trouble concentrating on completing one job as I try to prepare for the other. My mind is moving forward, out pacing the passing of time. I am ten steps ahead and my ass is trying to catch up. This is nothing new to me. I am a take charge, move ahead person...once I make a decision. Making the decision can be a much slower process, but then I jump in feet first, full steam ahead.
I was explaining to someone today that I am a visual thinker. I often relate experiences to images in my head. I don't know if I am explaining that clearly, but heres the point...life feels like a plate full of peas and someone keeps dumping mashed potatoes into the center causing the peas to run over. The peas are what I'm leaving behind, the mashed potatoes what I am pursuing and I'm tired of chasing peas.
I was explaining to someone today that I am a visual thinker. I often relate experiences to images in my head. I don't know if I am explaining that clearly, but heres the point...life feels like a plate full of peas and someone keeps dumping mashed potatoes into the center causing the peas to run over. The peas are what I'm leaving behind, the mashed potatoes what I am pursuing and I'm tired of chasing peas.
May 18, 2011
We have lift off
The title comes from a former post, if you are lost. Come on, you have to keep up. Life moves fast.
I have jettisoned myself into infinity and beyond. Without a safety net. I took a new job. Leaving behind 14 years of seniority and everything, person and place that I know as far as work goes. I am praying to all the powers that be, that it not be a bumpy road.
I have jettisoned myself into infinity and beyond. Without a safety net. I took a new job. Leaving behind 14 years of seniority and everything, person and place that I know as far as work goes. I am praying to all the powers that be, that it not be a bumpy road.
May 14, 2011
Make-up and illusion
As previously posted, just a few of my "characters"...
Some were simple...some were not.
 |
| My 1st zombie for Louisville Zombie Walk |
 |
| A LARP character |
 |
| Snake...sort of. |
 |
| Elf...I actually did this for work. |
 |
| Witch |
 |
| Cat...technically, Puss from Puss 'n' Boots |
 |
| Nyx |
Some were simple...some were not.
Don't let the eye fool you
There is one change I am particularly proud of. Oh, and when I start playing like this, it is a sure sign that I am bored. Now you can play "spot the difference."
Have fun.
NCIS
This is one of the few television shows I almost watch. Almost, as in the TV is on, and I may or may not be doing other things, like reading. It is unusual for me to watch TV and more so for me to be paying undivided attention. Anyway...
Just like books, I sometimes catch something that just makes me smile. NCIS had such a line the other night.
Gibbs: “Glad you could come, Mike.”
Mike Franks: “Me, too. Offer me a drink.
Gibbs: "It's 6:00 in the morning.”
Mike Franks: “So float a Cheerio in it!"
May 13, 2011
Puzzled?
I often write about things that...I can't write about. Legal issues. Not my story to tell. Too much personal information. Emotionally painful crap that I just don't want to share but I need to work out in my head. Writing is therapy. People that are involved or in the know, understand exactly what I reference. It's hidden in the words, but easily unlocked if you possess a super-friend decipher ring. They don't come in cereal boxes and I guard them jealously. Why do I mention this? Because I have anxiety to work off...and I can't talk about it. Damn.
I have stepped outside my comfort zone. It isn't irreversible, yet. Though I am heading at a pretty good clip down the runway...aiming straight for the edge of a cliff with nothing but homemade wings. I am not so sure how these bastards are going to hold up either. I'm ready for the leap...I think. The anxiety is compounded by the fact that someone else is in the control tower. They've approved my flight plan and started the count down, but I am still waiting for the "go". Houston, we do not have liftoff. Just kind of stalling on the lift pad. Burning fuel. Fueling anxiety. I am not good at not being in control. Could you guess? Patience is not my virtue and honestly, I'm not sure what is. So here I sit, teed up for lift off, surrounded by my flimsy but hard earned wings, questioning my sanity and waiting for the control tower to give me the green light...and they have all the time in the world.
I have stepped outside my comfort zone. It isn't irreversible, yet. Though I am heading at a pretty good clip down the runway...aiming straight for the edge of a cliff with nothing but homemade wings. I am not so sure how these bastards are going to hold up either. I'm ready for the leap...I think. The anxiety is compounded by the fact that someone else is in the control tower. They've approved my flight plan and started the count down, but I am still waiting for the "go". Houston, we do not have liftoff. Just kind of stalling on the lift pad. Burning fuel. Fueling anxiety. I am not good at not being in control. Could you guess? Patience is not my virtue and honestly, I'm not sure what is. So here I sit, teed up for lift off, surrounded by my flimsy but hard earned wings, questioning my sanity and waiting for the control tower to give me the green light...and they have all the time in the world.
May 02, 2011
The death of a terrorist
I am not an expert. I don't watch the news regularly or generally follow politics. I found the news of Osama bin Laden's death on Facebook not CNN. He was, in my opinion, a crazed man that twisted religion to support, and gather followers, for his subversive ideas. But I find the celebrations in the streets following the announcement of his assassination unsettling. It feels wrong to celebrate death.
I spent a little time looking around the internet this evening...even CNN. I listened to the local and national news. I wondered what other people thought and felt. The range of emotions were wide, from cheering in the streets to quiet reflection. I looked inside myself and asked, how do I feel about this?
Am I glad he's dead? Yes, I believe I am.
Do I believe his death will make a difference? I fear not. There is always another radical willing to step up. They'll just make him a martyr. I fear retaliation.
Should it have been done? I think I would have rather he was captured...but that would have just led to a long drawn out legal battle and all sorts of security issues. This probably was better. After all, it's already been 9 1/2 years since the attacks in 2001.
Do I feel better about the celebrations? No.
I have come to a conclusion with my soul searching. I'd like to think the people are cheering, not because a man was killed, but because of the perceived end of the evil he stood for.
Naive? Perhaps.
I spent a little time looking around the internet this evening...even CNN. I listened to the local and national news. I wondered what other people thought and felt. The range of emotions were wide, from cheering in the streets to quiet reflection. I looked inside myself and asked, how do I feel about this?
Am I glad he's dead? Yes, I believe I am.
Do I believe his death will make a difference? I fear not. There is always another radical willing to step up. They'll just make him a martyr. I fear retaliation.
Should it have been done? I think I would have rather he was captured...but that would have just led to a long drawn out legal battle and all sorts of security issues. This probably was better. After all, it's already been 9 1/2 years since the attacks in 2001.
Do I feel better about the celebrations? No.
I have come to a conclusion with my soul searching. I'd like to think the people are cheering, not because a man was killed, but because of the perceived end of the evil he stood for.
Naive? Perhaps.
April 30, 2011
Stories
A few of us were sitting around the other day and a variety of stories surfaced as we compared experiences. Some of us are old enough to vividly remember the April 3, 1974 tornadoes and the devastation afterwards. A couple of us had been burned, physical, not emotional, or knew someone who had been. We compared some of our "war" stories. This was not a competition of one-ups-manship, it was just a loose conversation about life experiences. One of the much younger women commented, that we sure had a lot of stories. I told her that is what happens when you get old. I prefer to think it's what happens when you live life.
I do have lot of stories. Perhaps it's the "why not" attitude. Perhaps it's being in the right place at the wrong time, wrong place right time...or exactly where I was needed just then. It's funny how the stories come back to light sometimes. Things I have not thought about in years will suddenly surface. I need to write about them when they come up, as the sink back into the murk of my memory just as quickly as they rise to the surface.
I am sitting here trying to pull some of life's tidbits and few are to be found.
I once had a horse flip over, landing on top of me. The horse trying to get up was more traumatic, I think, at least for me. I was on the bottom. I got up and got back on. It wasn't until years later when Christopher Reeve was hurt that I realized how lucky I was. It wasn't the only hard knock I have experienced with a horse...and I will still ride given the opportunity.
I once sat on the ground and played with tiger cubs. I have stroked along the sides of a full grown lioness. Neither were at a zoo. Neither were sedated, muzzled or caged.
Actually, I have handled or experienced a great number of animals, many in the wild.
I was bumped twice, by what I am certain was a shark off St Petersburg, Fla. The first time I stood there in chest deep water wondering, "What was that?" A few moments later, I was knocked off my feet...I decided sun bathing seemed like a good activity after ever survival alarm in my body went haywire. Fight or flight at it's best.
I have been snake bit, more than once. Both by pets and um, not. I have also been bit by a hamster and a parakeet and strangely enough, the last two hurt worse. Okay, the snakes, fortunately, were not big.
I have had dogs respond to me that I have been told can not be handled...and have never been seriously bitten. I have been nipped a few times, by my own. That led to a serious lesson on who the alpha was in the household. It never happened more than once.
Now in all fairness, I will admit that I have had an animal lay me up for a few days. A cat...as in domestic variety. Yeah, I'm allergic. Hives, eyes swollen, gasping for breath. But do I avoid them? Not really. I love animals and apparently, I'm a glutton for punishment. And cats absolutely positively adore me. The more aloof I try to be, the more fascinated they are.
It seems I have lots of animal stories. I have been chased by a bull. I have tried to ride a cow...that does not work by the way. Momma pigs are not thrilled with the idea of you picking up the babies...despite what my cousins said. Actually, all three of those were thanks to my cousins in the country. I have been on the wrong end of a battle with a field full of mares, they really do not like when you take the stallion home...cousin in Tenn. I'm beginning to see a theme here. I have sat in the woods surrounded by deer. Opossums really do play dead. And they have a mouth full of nasty looking teeth when they're not playing any more. My dog brought it to the back door. I had a raccoon steal the fruit from my drink...on the patio of a club in downtown Louisville. I have been up close and personal with a few too many alligators. Those bastards are prevalent in parts of Florida and they really are not afraid of humans. I actually saw one enter a house through the garage door that a neighbor had left open. Speaking of Florida...there is a species of bird down there, a type of crane, I think, that stands about as tall as me and can be rather aggressive. They recognize McDonald's bag and they want your fries! I have watched a Florida panther walk across my parent's front yard, from the street. He was elegant and beautiful, and happily not interested in me. I was almost pulled overboard while deep sea fishing. I caught something the crew wouldn't bring on board, they just cut the line...we'd already brought an eel and a 49 inch barracuda on board. There are fish down there, that are poisonous just to touch. And we swim with them.
I am sure there are more. I love animals. I once wanted to be a vet...but doesn't every little girl? When I started nursing school, my Dad asked what happened to being a vet. I answered I didn't think I could deal with the animal's suffering. My dad gave me a look...people are different.
A 2008 post of Life stories.
I do have lot of stories. Perhaps it's the "why not" attitude. Perhaps it's being in the right place at the wrong time, wrong place right time...or exactly where I was needed just then. It's funny how the stories come back to light sometimes. Things I have not thought about in years will suddenly surface. I need to write about them when they come up, as the sink back into the murk of my memory just as quickly as they rise to the surface.
I am sitting here trying to pull some of life's tidbits and few are to be found.
I once had a horse flip over, landing on top of me. The horse trying to get up was more traumatic, I think, at least for me. I was on the bottom. I got up and got back on. It wasn't until years later when Christopher Reeve was hurt that I realized how lucky I was. It wasn't the only hard knock I have experienced with a horse...and I will still ride given the opportunity.
I once sat on the ground and played with tiger cubs. I have stroked along the sides of a full grown lioness. Neither were at a zoo. Neither were sedated, muzzled or caged.
Actually, I have handled or experienced a great number of animals, many in the wild.
I was bumped twice, by what I am certain was a shark off St Petersburg, Fla. The first time I stood there in chest deep water wondering, "What was that?" A few moments later, I was knocked off my feet...I decided sun bathing seemed like a good activity after ever survival alarm in my body went haywire. Fight or flight at it's best.
I have been snake bit, more than once. Both by pets and um, not. I have also been bit by a hamster and a parakeet and strangely enough, the last two hurt worse. Okay, the snakes, fortunately, were not big.
I have had dogs respond to me that I have been told can not be handled...and have never been seriously bitten. I have been nipped a few times, by my own. That led to a serious lesson on who the alpha was in the household. It never happened more than once.
Now in all fairness, I will admit that I have had an animal lay me up for a few days. A cat...as in domestic variety. Yeah, I'm allergic. Hives, eyes swollen, gasping for breath. But do I avoid them? Not really. I love animals and apparently, I'm a glutton for punishment. And cats absolutely positively adore me. The more aloof I try to be, the more fascinated they are.
It seems I have lots of animal stories. I have been chased by a bull. I have tried to ride a cow...that does not work by the way. Momma pigs are not thrilled with the idea of you picking up the babies...despite what my cousins said. Actually, all three of those were thanks to my cousins in the country. I have been on the wrong end of a battle with a field full of mares, they really do not like when you take the stallion home...cousin in Tenn. I'm beginning to see a theme here. I have sat in the woods surrounded by deer. Opossums really do play dead. And they have a mouth full of nasty looking teeth when they're not playing any more. My dog brought it to the back door. I had a raccoon steal the fruit from my drink...on the patio of a club in downtown Louisville. I have been up close and personal with a few too many alligators. Those bastards are prevalent in parts of Florida and they really are not afraid of humans. I actually saw one enter a house through the garage door that a neighbor had left open. Speaking of Florida...there is a species of bird down there, a type of crane, I think, that stands about as tall as me and can be rather aggressive. They recognize McDonald's bag and they want your fries! I have watched a Florida panther walk across my parent's front yard, from the street. He was elegant and beautiful, and happily not interested in me. I was almost pulled overboard while deep sea fishing. I caught something the crew wouldn't bring on board, they just cut the line...we'd already brought an eel and a 49 inch barracuda on board. There are fish down there, that are poisonous just to touch. And we swim with them.
I am sure there are more. I love animals. I once wanted to be a vet...but doesn't every little girl? When I started nursing school, my Dad asked what happened to being a vet. I answered I didn't think I could deal with the animal's suffering. My dad gave me a look...people are different.
A 2008 post of Life stories.
April 16, 2011
Old times
I ran into an old friend today. I hadn't seen him in forever. As soon as I said his name, he opened his arms to me. He looked at my husband and said something along the lines of, "I'm going to steal a hug man, I knew her even before you did." He's right. We guess we met about the age of 13. I remember the where and how, just not the specific year. We were young. My Dad recognized him, in a weird sort of way...in the same way I have recognized my former classmates in their children. Our fathers had been school friends. The reunion led to many weekends spent together. We became a bit of extended family for a time. Then life got in the way as it often does. We stood around and caught up. Sad to hear how many people have been lost.
In memory of Roxy, Eddie and Tommy. I have found memories of our days at the lake. You've not been forgotten.
In memory of Roxy, Eddie and Tommy. I have found memories of our days at the lake. You've not been forgotten.
Doors close
I still think about you, but not as often as I once did. There are certain things that always bring you to mind, I can't help it. I don't regret our time together. I have memories I still visit. There are things I would have changed. Maybe it would have made a difference, maybe not. Maybe things would have been better...or worse. One never knows these things. Life changes. People come and go. Timing is everything. I like to think we both ended up better off. No regrets. Instead I listen for the sound of the opening window.
April 04, 2011
Cancun
It was beautiful and warm. The world seems to consist of blue, white and green.
The only complaints were not really hotel or trip related...some people just don't know how to behave. I've decided against writing a normal blog entry, more just snap shots and moments that stuck in my mind.
This is Jamie (Yahmeh), he's a bartender...and tried to kill us. If the goal had been not to remember the vacation, he would have been a perfect companion.
They work 6 day weeks and I think some of them worked 12 hour days. The all inclusive resorts say you don't need to tip, but they are so very grateful for every single dollar.
Jamie was making $10-20 a day from us in tips. The other bartenders wanted to be our amigos too when they saw his tip jar.
He introduced us to Don Julio.
Tony Bennett may have left his heart in San Francisco...I left part of myself in Puerto Morales. We snorkeled the reef there. High waves, I got smacked into the reef, scraping my thigh. I'll not post that pic. At some point it occurs to you that you are swimming in open water while potentially bleeding.
After I got home I saw a reported shark attack off Cancun a couple of weeks prior to us being there. Comforting.
We spent some time at the beach...
This is me on the beach...self portrait.
This is "Fernando" on the beach.and some time at the pool.
There was lots of laughing.
Ok...you really had to be there.
Lasting memories.
Happy familia.
March 15, 2011
Dear Medicare...please stop
I am a nurse. I think I always wanted to be a nurse. I currently work as a care manager...there are a lot of hats that come with that job. Unfortunately, in this job, I deal a lot with Medicare rules. People think the tax code is complicated...oh my. And so far, it doesn't appear that anyone is even looking at putting an end to the madness. They have all the power and I'm drowning under it all.
An example...
Medicare determines the amount of money a hospital will be paid based on the diagnosis. This isn't as easy as it sounds, but I am trying to simplify. So hospitals are encouraged to move patients through the system as quickly as possible to be financially viable. Then Medicare decided that if patients return to the hospital within 30 days for the same diagnosis, the hospital would not be paid, on the theory the patient was discharged too soon. So it was decided that patients that were frequently admitted should be sent home with home health, to help maintain them at home. Beginning April 1, the physician will need to complete a form for patients to go home with home health. Do you know how hard it is to get a doctor to complete a form?
Hospitals can not survive without Medicare, so we are forced to jump through the hoops...no matter how high, how small or how utterly ridicules the latest rules they concoct. Nurses spend more time meeting the criteria every day...form after form, which means less time taking care of sick people.
I am regretting my career choice more and more. I am sick and tired of Medicare's tyrannical rule over healthcare. Somebody needs to put a leash on them.
An example...
Medicare determines the amount of money a hospital will be paid based on the diagnosis. This isn't as easy as it sounds, but I am trying to simplify. So hospitals are encouraged to move patients through the system as quickly as possible to be financially viable. Then Medicare decided that if patients return to the hospital within 30 days for the same diagnosis, the hospital would not be paid, on the theory the patient was discharged too soon. So it was decided that patients that were frequently admitted should be sent home with home health, to help maintain them at home. Beginning April 1, the physician will need to complete a form for patients to go home with home health. Do you know how hard it is to get a doctor to complete a form?
Hospitals can not survive without Medicare, so we are forced to jump through the hoops...no matter how high, how small or how utterly ridicules the latest rules they concoct. Nurses spend more time meeting the criteria every day...form after form, which means less time taking care of sick people.
I am regretting my career choice more and more. I am sick and tired of Medicare's tyrannical rule over healthcare. Somebody needs to put a leash on them.
March 04, 2011
Things I know
I identify myself as agnostic, but will admit that I am not atheist only because it takes too much commitment. I really am not an always/never sort of person. I am more...maybe. This being said, I was surprised recently to be standing with a group of people that I am sure would all identify themselves as Christian, and I am the only one that could quote a Bible verse off the top of my head...or at least a close approximation of one.
For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten son, so that those who believeth in him would not perish, but would have everlasting life. John 3:16
I was told, once upon a time, that it was the most important verse in the Bible. Kind of sums up the whole thing.
For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten son, so that those who believeth in him would not perish, but would have everlasting life. John 3:16
I was told, once upon a time, that it was the most important verse in the Bible. Kind of sums up the whole thing.
March 03, 2011
Strength
Someone I know had a traumatic experience recently, and her talking about it inadvertently brought up an old experience of mine. That seems to be happening a lot lately.
I guess it's been about 7 years...
I was woke early in the morning by a phone call, a frantic voice on the other end, sobbing, "I think my Dad is dead." It was a young girl and after some initial confusion, I realized who it was and rushed across town to her home. When I arrived there was chaos...police, ambulance, friends, neighbors, gawkers. I pushed my way through and into the house, still not knowing what had happened. I found my son's young friend, a girl of 14, huddled and crying in the living room with friends that had been sleeping over. Her father had killed himself, a suicide by gunshot, witnessed by the man's girlfriend. Apparently, the police took one look at me and decided I was the most responsible adult on the scene. I was older, had not been present and wasn't falling apart. I'm told I have a look about me that says, in charge and under control...that is not always a good thing. I suddenly found myself right in the middle of an ugly situation. Instead of taking care of a 14 year old girl and her younger brother as I had anticipated....or for that fact, thinking I'd arrive to find her Dad sick, passed out...anything but dead, and at his own hand, I found myself answering police questions, identifying the body and taking possession of his guns, along with other belongings the police were considerate enough to not want to fall into the kid's hands. The police were very professional. They made my trip into the basement...less painful? Less shocking? This was someone I had known. Someone my kids and I spent time with. But the police officers covered everything they could and were very careful to show me just his face. But I knew. I knew what was behind, below, beyond that masking. But I prefer to deal with my imagination than the reality. I will also say that I would rather be the one that took on that task instead of the people huddled in the living room upstairs. They had already been through enough...and would have way more to deal with in the future. His death left a large gap and a lot of questions in many lives. And the one thing I did, maybe the biggest change I made that day, was to prevent that body from going through that living room. The ambulance crew had brought him up the basement stairs into the dining room, where I was standing, yet again conversing with a police officer over some detail. They turned the stretcher towards the living room and I stepped in front of them. I told them they were not going that way. I told them to go out the back door. The EMT argued that to go out the back door they would have to go down two flights of narrow stairs. I repeated that they were not going through the living room where this man's children and friends sat. The police officer looked at me, I think he knew a fight was brewing and directed the EMT to the back door. I will never regret being there to make that stand. It is a memory nobody needed.
I am a strong person. My experiences make me stronger. Sometimes I don't want to be the strong one that others rely on...but sometimes, I'm glad I was.
Even when others may never even realize that I stood up for them.
I guess it's been about 7 years...
I was woke early in the morning by a phone call, a frantic voice on the other end, sobbing, "I think my Dad is dead." It was a young girl and after some initial confusion, I realized who it was and rushed across town to her home. When I arrived there was chaos...police, ambulance, friends, neighbors, gawkers. I pushed my way through and into the house, still not knowing what had happened. I found my son's young friend, a girl of 14, huddled and crying in the living room with friends that had been sleeping over. Her father had killed himself, a suicide by gunshot, witnessed by the man's girlfriend. Apparently, the police took one look at me and decided I was the most responsible adult on the scene. I was older, had not been present and wasn't falling apart. I'm told I have a look about me that says, in charge and under control...that is not always a good thing. I suddenly found myself right in the middle of an ugly situation. Instead of taking care of a 14 year old girl and her younger brother as I had anticipated....or for that fact, thinking I'd arrive to find her Dad sick, passed out...anything but dead, and at his own hand, I found myself answering police questions, identifying the body and taking possession of his guns, along with other belongings the police were considerate enough to not want to fall into the kid's hands. The police were very professional. They made my trip into the basement...less painful? Less shocking? This was someone I had known. Someone my kids and I spent time with. But the police officers covered everything they could and were very careful to show me just his face. But I knew. I knew what was behind, below, beyond that masking. But I prefer to deal with my imagination than the reality. I will also say that I would rather be the one that took on that task instead of the people huddled in the living room upstairs. They had already been through enough...and would have way more to deal with in the future. His death left a large gap and a lot of questions in many lives. And the one thing I did, maybe the biggest change I made that day, was to prevent that body from going through that living room. The ambulance crew had brought him up the basement stairs into the dining room, where I was standing, yet again conversing with a police officer over some detail. They turned the stretcher towards the living room and I stepped in front of them. I told them they were not going that way. I told them to go out the back door. The EMT argued that to go out the back door they would have to go down two flights of narrow stairs. I repeated that they were not going through the living room where this man's children and friends sat. The police officer looked at me, I think he knew a fight was brewing and directed the EMT to the back door. I will never regret being there to make that stand. It is a memory nobody needed.
I am a strong person. My experiences make me stronger. Sometimes I don't want to be the strong one that others rely on...but sometimes, I'm glad I was.
Even when others may never even realize that I stood up for them.
March 02, 2011
I'm going to rant now
How freaking stupid are people? The limitless ability of some individuals to behave in a moronic fashion never ceases to amaze me...nor do some individuals ability to manipulate others or lack of thought in making choices.
What has my ire up?
A news story. I swear I need to quit watching the news.
The Supreme Court ruled today that the protesters at military funerals were protected under the First Amendment. I won't argue that. I don't agree with their actions in no way, shape or form...it seems to me to be inappropriate and hurtful when families are at their lowest point...but in this country we have the right of free speech. Many a soldier has died defending that right.
If you've missed this...
Westboro Baptist Church members have been protesting at soldier's funerals. The news reports show members of the church holding signs reading, "Thank God for dead soldiers" "You're Going to Hell" and "God Hates the USA/Thank God for 9/11".
Reportedly, the church believes God is punishing the military for the nation's tolerance of homosexuality.
I can't quite make the connection between being anti-gay and protesting and disrupting a funeral. Or even the connection between homosexuality and the military in an era of don't ask don't tell. They aren't protesting at gay soldier's funerals. I don't understand their leap in logic here. And personally, I can't imagine worshiping a God that would kill soldiers because of government policies. Why kill the soldiers if you could just take out the chiefs? None of it makes sense to me. Or why would an omnipotent God kill a straight soldier to punish homosexuality? Isn't that a little counter productive? These people just look crazy to me. I guess that explains their lack of empathy.
If God is into punishing individuals for the beliefs of the greater organization...I worry for their children.
What has my ire up?
A news story. I swear I need to quit watching the news.
The Supreme Court ruled today that the protesters at military funerals were protected under the First Amendment. I won't argue that. I don't agree with their actions in no way, shape or form...it seems to me to be inappropriate and hurtful when families are at their lowest point...but in this country we have the right of free speech. Many a soldier has died defending that right.
If you've missed this...
Westboro Baptist Church members have been protesting at soldier's funerals. The news reports show members of the church holding signs reading, "Thank God for dead soldiers" "You're Going to Hell" and "God Hates the USA/Thank God for 9/11".
Reportedly, the church believes God is punishing the military for the nation's tolerance of homosexuality.
I can't quite make the connection between being anti-gay and protesting and disrupting a funeral. Or even the connection between homosexuality and the military in an era of don't ask don't tell. They aren't protesting at gay soldier's funerals. I don't understand their leap in logic here. And personally, I can't imagine worshiping a God that would kill soldiers because of government policies. Why kill the soldiers if you could just take out the chiefs? None of it makes sense to me. Or why would an omnipotent God kill a straight soldier to punish homosexuality? Isn't that a little counter productive? These people just look crazy to me. I guess that explains their lack of empathy.
If God is into punishing individuals for the beliefs of the greater organization...I worry for their children.
February 26, 2011
Like father, like son
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| My grand munchkin at 2 months old |
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| and 5 months old. |
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| And his father, at about that age. |
I look for the similarities and wonder...don't all babies sort of look alike? Cute, round, bald.
February 25, 2011
My horse of a different color
I drive an orange Mustang. Grabber Orange according to Ford. It isn't a color everybody likes...but it grabbed my fancy the minute I saw it.
It's a little more orange than it looks in the picture. I find myself trying to find things to describe the color...Dial soap, school bus, road stripe, macaroni & cheese. Unfortunately, everyone knows those things are yellow. My car is orange.
A few months back, another orange Mustang showed up in the parking garage where I work. We kept crossing paths until I discovered that not only did we work at the same place and the same hours, but we live in the same neighborhood. We often find ourselves parallel parked adjacent to each other. I have seen people stop and take a double look. I was asked today if we knew each other...not prior to our unusual choice of color.
It's a little more orange than it looks in the picture. I find myself trying to find things to describe the color...Dial soap, school bus, road stripe, macaroni & cheese. Unfortunately, everyone knows those things are yellow. My car is orange.
A few months back, another orange Mustang showed up in the parking garage where I work. We kept crossing paths until I discovered that not only did we work at the same place and the same hours, but we live in the same neighborhood. We often find ourselves parallel parked adjacent to each other. I have seen people stop and take a double look. I was asked today if we knew each other...not prior to our unusual choice of color.
I have heard positive and negative comments. Not that it matters, I still like it as much as the day I bought it. My horse of a different color. My ray of sunshine on a cloudy day.
February 16, 2011
Still breathing, still life
I have had very little motivation to write. That's unusual for me. I usually write to declutter my mind. It has been very still. Not stagnant, just quiet. Not happy. Not sad. Just holding the line, I guess. Lots of stress at work. Anxiety reactions to strange things. I've spent a lot of time reading, a solitary pursuit that I enjoy...19 books in 9 weeks might border on obsessive though. For the first time ever, I think, I drank an entire bottle of wine...over three days. Not so bad, right? Warmer weather and sunshine had me feeling perky this afternoon but it slid away like sand through my fingers.I am still trying for my silver lining. I don't give up so easily. I just need to find my fun again.
January 27, 2011
Still here
I suspect I am suffering from depression. I am not terribly sad, and I know that doesn't sound logical, but I am having anxiety issues. The anxiety seems to be based on a sudden, and unexplainable, fear I have of dying. Want more illogical? This sudden fear of dying seems to come from the fact that I have a lot of terrific things, large and small, planned out over the rest of this year. So if life is good, why would I be depressed?
Never said it had to make sense.
January 07, 2011
Birthday 2011
Yesterday, I turned 49. That means today, I start the march towards 50...364 days. My age does not bother me, it is irrelevant. The aches and pains of aging, however, are much harder to ignore. I really do feel the difference, not day to day, but about every 5 years I know I have become a little less agile. I find myself asking if I am "too old" for things. I assure myself that is society mentality. Why would I be too old to do things I enjoy? And, oh, how I can enjoy! I plan to celebrate over the next few days with friends...just an excuse to do what I always do, have a good time. So far this year, there have been no surprises...well, no big extravagant surprises, but after the last few years, I find myself on alert. My spidey sense is tingling. And if nothing is afoot, I will not be disappointed...but NEXT year...
my 50th birthday will fall on a Friday.
Batten down the hatches, hoist the mainsail, hide your sons and daughters, 50 lashes...damn, got myself excited! Maybe I need to go sit in my rocking chair, this much excitement isn't good on an old girl.
Screw that.
my 50th birthday will fall on a Friday.
Batten down the hatches, hoist the mainsail, hide your sons and daughters, 50 lashes...damn, got myself excited! Maybe I need to go sit in my rocking chair, this much excitement isn't good on an old girl.
Screw that.
January 06, 2011
Random thought of the day
Life is the one place, where when you loose something, it is seldom a good idea to retrace your steps to find it.
Life moves forward or it ceases to be life.
January 01, 2011
2011
Happy New Year
Again
Why do we hold such hope that the new year will bring something better? Great job, lose weight, find love, whatever...it is all possible with a brand new year. I guess the optimism makes for a much better New Year's Eve party. Like many things we add value to, the marking of a new year is a man-made event without any type of mystical significance. We get to throw out the old calendar and hang a new one. We have to learn to write a new number designation on everything. And we make resolutions that usually fade quicker than learning to write the new year. I partied with friends last night. Took down the Christmas tree this morning, for no other reason than it was time. I'll get around to the new calendar eventually. I won't be eating special food today for luck...NO corned beef, black eyed peas or whatever it's supposed to be. I'm not making resolutions. Instead, I'd like to say thank you to my husband for making my life what it is. We have influenced each other greatly over 30+ years. To my sons, I wish you happiness, contentment and safe passage in the new year. To my grandson, that is way too young to understand, the next year will hold more wonders and learning experiences...everything is new and shiny. So many firsts. Last, but definitely not least, I want to thank my friends for keeping me sane and occupied. You have touched my life...and, in some cases, me, in more ways than I could ever imagine. I am happy that you have allowed me to share in your life. So, happy new year everyone...may it be all that you desire.
December 18, 2010
Advice
Nurses have stories. They have seen about everything that can be done to a body, voluntarily and involuntarily. Part of my job frequently has me reading Emergency Department (ED), it's no longer ER, notes. Many of the things I read are scary or sad...a few are nothing short of miracles. But every now and then I come across a tale so far fetched...
These often involve, um, foreign objects. That, would be something that doesn't belong in the human body. And in this particular instance, we'll limit the body to primarily one orifice...give me a break, I'm trying to keep this PG. As far as I've been able to tell, nobody ever walks in to the ED and tells the truth about how this mishap occurred. I often wonder how much time is spent concocting these stories (We also get them for how someone accidentally ingested drugs. And just so you know, nobody believes you passed out and just happened to breathe in the cocaine.) Stories run the gamut from muggings that involved the placement of mysterious foreign object to all sorts of accidents...hanging curtains naked? Bet the neighbors adore you. Slipped. Fell. Say you can see it happening? The lube on the, um, object gives you away every time.
So here's my advice:
1. Never place an object inside a body cavity that was not specifically designed for the purpose. Any body cavity, including your nose and ears.
2. If you ignore #1, go to the ED, don't waste time making up a plausible ::cough:: story and take your lumps, fess up. You may be a little embarrassed, you were warned, but nobody is ever going to believe that story you're concocting.
These often involve, um, foreign objects. That, would be something that doesn't belong in the human body. And in this particular instance, we'll limit the body to primarily one orifice...give me a break, I'm trying to keep this PG. As far as I've been able to tell, nobody ever walks in to the ED and tells the truth about how this mishap occurred. I often wonder how much time is spent concocting these stories (We also get them for how someone accidentally ingested drugs. And just so you know, nobody believes you passed out and just happened to breathe in the cocaine.) Stories run the gamut from muggings that involved the placement of mysterious foreign object to all sorts of accidents...hanging curtains naked? Bet the neighbors adore you. Slipped. Fell. Say you can see it happening? The lube on the, um, object gives you away every time.
So here's my advice:
1. Never place an object inside a body cavity that was not specifically designed for the purpose. Any body cavity, including your nose and ears.
2. If you ignore #1, go to the ED, don't waste time making up a plausible ::cough:: story and take your lumps, fess up. You may be a little embarrassed, you were warned, but nobody is ever going to believe that story you're concocting.
December 11, 2010
Happy? Holidays
I often note that people, including myself at times, have a tendency to backlash when things become too politically correct. I mean sometimes it is just freaking ridicules. I have started taking note of those that grumble over the greeting, "Happy Holidays" a phrase meant to be all inclusive of the winter celebrations, like Season's Greetings. But it seems a good number of people feel their toes are being stepped on. They want to wish you a Merry Christmas...damn it. Did I mention that some of those grumblings include not very Christian like ideas...or words?
Let me explain how I see this...
After all...MY blog!
Wishing a close friend or relative Merry Christmas is just dandy. I assume you know these people well enough to know that they do, indeed, celebrate Christmas. Now, those other, not so well known folks you encounter may not celebrate Christmas. Now come down off your high horse, they are not all heathens...they just have different beliefs than what happens to be a majority in this country. Remember that tiny idea this country was founded on...freedom, including religion? Wishing a Jew, Muslim, Hindu, Wiccan or any number of religions, a Merry Christmas is like wishing everybody else Happy Birthday on YOUR birthday. They aren't celebrating what you are, when you celebrate. We no longer live in small towns or isolated hamlets. It's a big world out there. Embrace differences, learn about people. It does not mean that you have to give up your beliefs...just be aware that the entire world isn't like you.
Personally, you may wish me a Happy Holiday, Merry Christmas, Joyous Yule, Happy New Year, Happy Kwanzaa or Happy Hanukkah, as long as you wish me well, have good intentions and want to celebrate a joyous occasion.
Will there be gifts?
Let me explain how I see this...
After all...MY blog!
Wishing a close friend or relative Merry Christmas is just dandy. I assume you know these people well enough to know that they do, indeed, celebrate Christmas. Now, those other, not so well known folks you encounter may not celebrate Christmas. Now come down off your high horse, they are not all heathens...they just have different beliefs than what happens to be a majority in this country. Remember that tiny idea this country was founded on...freedom, including religion? Wishing a Jew, Muslim, Hindu, Wiccan or any number of religions, a Merry Christmas is like wishing everybody else Happy Birthday on YOUR birthday. They aren't celebrating what you are, when you celebrate. We no longer live in small towns or isolated hamlets. It's a big world out there. Embrace differences, learn about people. It does not mean that you have to give up your beliefs...just be aware that the entire world isn't like you.
Personally, you may wish me a Happy Holiday, Merry Christmas, Joyous Yule, Happy New Year, Happy Kwanzaa or Happy Hanukkah, as long as you wish me well, have good intentions and want to celebrate a joyous occasion.
Will there be gifts?
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