You Know You're a Nurse When (Part 18)

You try to type "episode," but your phone  would rather talk about an epidural.

The song I listened to on repeat for literally the entire day

No, literally the entire day. It's perfection.

Have I Ever Shared Sufjan Steven's Autobiography? Because It's My Favorite.

"Sufjan's other interests include graphic design, painting, running, knitting, crocheting, weaving, quilting, cleaning, photography, haircutting, and dry wall installation. He collects stamps and wheat pennies. He cooks legendary omelets and can whip up a sushi feast at the drop of a sake glass. In high school he played second string guard on a district champion basketball team and created his own language, now spoken by only two other people. His brother Marzuki is a nationally recognized marathon runner, elite status. His sister Djohariah has the most complicated, most whimsical, most monumental laugh in all of mankind."


Mostly the part about her laugh. 


From the old asthmatickitty.com

Awkward Conversations (Part 3)

So once upon a time there was an attractive tall boy who liked to make fun of me. I posted about him  here and here.  Because of him, I resolved to stop dating jerks and didn't even flirt with him (okay, maybe just a couple times) after I realized what was happening. But then I saw him last Sunday and guess what I realized?! I'm totally a jerk too! Our conversation went something like this:

Me: I never have any sympathy for tall boys where dating is concerned.
Him: I know, and I'm sorry about that.
Me: No but seriously. Every girl sees you and wants to date you until she gets to know you.

WAIT WHAT?!

Yep. I said it out loud. Just like that. And you know something? He didn't even flinch. He agreed with me. We had a lovely little conversation and left on great terms.

And I don't really know what I have to say about it except that it turns out I'm a total hypocrite (although honestly, didn't we already know that?).

Someday I'll resolve to watch my mouth a little bit more, but until then, enjoy the snarkasm*




*I thought I made that word up, but turns out that it was already a word on urbandictionary. 

Lots to Say

I have about 50,000 things I want to say tonight, but I think what I'll do is post a picture of my new beanie. 

The only monogrammed (is that even the appropriate word to use here?) item I am missing in my life is a pair of hoop earrings that say "Liz" inside. If anyone knows where I can find such earrings, please advise.

Pink, Red, Navy, and Black.

Friday's matchy-matchy bike ride. #RockingBody

Robots

I'm not sure who has a more #RockingBody: me or this #sexyrobot on the front of my sci-fi novel.

This Love Won't Break Your Heart

Have you ever heard such a lovely harmonized descant round in all of your life?

Me neither. 

Provo Canyon

Today my #RockingBody, particularly my legs, my thighs, took me on a lovely bike ride up Provo canyon.

Oh how I miss Provo canyon.

The Three Letter F-Word and my #RockingBody

For Lent 2012 I gave up calling myself FAT. Every time I said the three-letter-f-word, I had to stop what I was doing, put both hands on my stomach and say, "I'm sorry. I love you." I was astounded how many times I had to do this in just 40 days. It was the best thing I've ever done for my self esteem.

But apparently I've gotten out of the habit. While I was getting ready to climb the other night, I put on my favorite spandex pants and pullover. I looked at myself in the mirror and thought, "Man, I look FAT. I wish I weren't so FAT." And when I heard myself saying the three-letter-f-word, I had an epiphany. I'm going to post a picture of myself in this outfit, and I'm going to hashtag it #RockingBody because all this negative self-talk is absurd.

http://instagram.com/p/gZOkXgPkQi/

I am tired of spending my life wishing I were skinnier. What good does it do to look in the mirror and tell myself I'm fat? I've been pimping the same speech for years: I'd like myself more if I were skinnier. But it's a bunch of baloney. Because even when I'm skinny, I still think I'm fat. How does this make any sense?!

In an effort to love my body and accept it as it is, I'm starting my #RockingBody series.

I'll be posting pictures of myself doing things I love with positive self talk.

Do you have a rocking body too? Feel free to join me.
Instagram: @biketastic; #RockingBody

October

In the hall at school today I overheard two guys talking. 

Guy 1: I'd love to see the Cards take it.

Guy 2: I hate the Cards. 

Raise your hand if you've heard some sort of variation on that discussion at least once during this World Series.

As for me, I don't ever like to see a team continue to dominate and go to The Series year after year, no matter how much I love Matt Holliday. (A lot, in case you didn't know). That being said, I hate the Red Sox the very most, and I'm pulling for the Cards. 

In other news, I found this quote on Pinterest this morning.

 

I realize Ms. Lucy Maud probably wasn't talking about baseball, and was focused on crisp air and crisp leaves. I agree about the crispiness of Fall, and I especially agree with this quote because of baseball. 

I Don't Eat Birds and Other Such Nonsense.

Okay guys, so as you know, I'm a Flexitarian, which means that I don't really eat meat except for rare circumstances. I'm not morally opposed to the eating of meat, per se, I just don't like to eat it unless I have to. I am, however, scared to death of eating birds after a partial reading of Jonathan Safran Foer's Eating Animals. In all seriousness, I can't remember the last time I ate chicken or turkey (oh, wait, yes I do. It was at work and I cheated with deli sliced turkey of all things). Until yesterday.

Yesterday I had a lunch date with a new boy. He was charming and funny and to top it off he made us lunch for a picnic in the park. It included delicious peach-glazed chicken. I hadn't told him that I don't eat birds. So I just ate it. Straight up ate it. An entire chicken breast guys. And then I died. Literally. Not literally, because then I wouldn't be writing this post. But seriously guys, eating birds freaks me out.

A Follow Up To My Last Post

Does anyone else think it's ironic that after my last post, today I'm sitting in a lecture on how to treat STDs?

Awkward Abbreviations

I'm currently reading an article about nutritional support of critically ill patient.
It abbreviates standard as STD.
So I'm reading about STD therapy.
My advice to the authors?
Next time, choose a different abbreviation.

On Caffeine

On an unrelated note: I'm going to post about caffeine here and as part of the post, I'm going to use the three-letter f-word. As a recompense for that, I have already touched my stomach with both my hands and said, "I'm sorry. I love you," even though I'm not technically calling myself the three-letter f-word in this post.  

Dr. Michelle May once said, "Dieting is to overeating what caffeine is to chronic insomnia."

So, we all know I'm obsessed with not dieting (if you don't know that, ask me about my doctorate project sometime), but my relationship with caffeine, while less well-documented, is similar to my tumultuous relationship with Facebook. I quit drinking caffeine for months, sometimes years, at a time and then I spend a few long days in the hospital (as in, for work, not for illness) and next thing you know, I'm sucking down Diet Coke and Diet Dr. Pepper like there's it's my only source of clean water. Which leads to 2 things:

1. An unnecessarily screwy (derived from the baseball term: screwball) sleep schedule 

2. Feeling generally unhealthy, unfit, and cranky 

Based on my quick NIH search, drinking of diet soda has been associated with depression, metabolic syndrome and type 2 diabetes. 

The ever-wise Greg Behrendt once wrote, "Don't put it into your body if it will make you a sad fatty." Granted, I might have sort of paraphrased that, but I think you'll let it slide since it helps me make my point: 

Diet Soda can make you a sad fatty

And it's time for me to be done with that business.  

So, here I am, saying to you, Internet, that I am giving up diet soda. Not in the sense that I will never drink it again, not in the sense that I'm going on a diet from diet soda, but in the sense that I am going to find a balance in life that includes appropriate sleep and exercise, and I will no longer rely on caffeine as my personality, intelligence, and substitute sleep. 

As my friend Gary once said, "I either have to get enough sleep or suffer the tired consequences." 

And on that note, I'm going to turn off the Dodgers game (tied in the bottom of the sixth) and go to bed.

Sweet uncaffeinated dreams to you. 

Things I Wouldn't Want Wikipedia to Say About Me

From the Wikipedia  article "Jeremy Giambi"

"Like his older more successful major league baseball playing brother Jason, Jeremy Giambi attended South Hills High School...."

OUCH. 

"Older more successful major league baseball playing..."

OUCH. 

You Know You're A Nurse When (Part 17)

The details for jobs in your field include warnings such as, 

"May be exposed to body fluids, tissue, possible radiation exposure, and infectious processes." 

I Love this Lady

This is a picture from my 24th birthday. 

Can I just mention how very much I love Ms. Brooke? 

Cousin Jesse is pretty cool too. 

Tonight my Mom Told Me...

Well I'm glad you went out with someone taller than you.

Not that it matters...

But it does.

My New Normal

Before I couldn't go a day without thinking about trauma because I just kept thinking about it. 

Today I can't go a day without thinking about it because it's what I do every single day. 

Okay, I exaggerated a little tiny bit. It's not every single day.

But it pretty much is. And I'm okay with that. 

Why I'm Going Back to School Again.

I have to get certified in Acute Care because I can't stop thinking about it. 

Class starts Tuesday. 

Wish me luck. 

Trauma

I recently started working in trauma again. Being back has been amazing and emotionally overwhelming. The intensity of life and death and the people facing them is fulfilling and challenging in a way that is difficult to explain.

See, in trauma, life-changing and often devastating injuries come as a complete shock to both patients and their families. Some days it's harder to watch than others and when I leave work, I carry a profound heaviness with me. Last week I came home and sprawled out on my front lawn in bare feet and scrubs and stared at the sky. I didn't want to talk about it. I didn't feel like crying. I didn't feel like doing anything. I just stared at the sky. And when I was sufficiently decompressed, I got up and got back to life. Because life is the reason that I do what I do.

Because for everyone who doesn't make it, there's someone that does. For every patient who suffers brain death, others are saved by organ donation. For every spinal cord injury, there is someone who walks away miraculously uninjured.

And I just have to believe that there is more to all of this than just the luck of the draw. I have to believe that there is a God in Heaven who watches it all, who sees our tears falling, and has empathy for us in a way we can't comprehend. I have to believe it because when I go to work, I feel it. I feel God's love for his children. We are not just wandering meaninglessly through a dark life without purpose or hope. There is great purpose to our lives, and even to our suffering.

And though I don't understand it now, I know that someday, somehow, it will all be made right. Somehow Christ's atonement, will bring wholeness to those who have lost. Every sorrow will be recompensed and every tear will be wiped clean. And for now, that's enough to keep me going. 

Black Widows and Other Things

Well, the really great news is that the most stressful event of the last few days has been the part where my dad discovered about a dozen baby black widow spiders in my garage. We were able to take care of that little debacle, but the tricky part was that we couldn't find their progenitor, Le Widow herself. So, she's just hanging out somewhere making sure that anytime I feel the slightest itch, I enter a zone of panic previously only experienced with contemplating the claustrophobia associated with sleeping in a sleeping bag. 

I finally acquired a couch thanks to the lovely Brooke and Mark. I guess that means that I'm officially moved in to the new place? I also emptied out the last of my junk miscellaneous boxes last night which I'm pretty sure means that I deserve some sort of medal of honor for organization? I don't think it should count that I haven't actually put the miscellany away because at least it's all organized categorically?

In other news, the new job is fantastic, the biking in my new city is glorious, my new swimming pool is absolutely lovely, I'm using question marks and I'm headed to a baseball game this evening. Life is good, provided that I don't get arachnaphobified and die.

This is why I lay in Shavasana every night before I fall asleep

I was just reading a blog with the following picture posted on it. 

And I laughed out loud. Mostly because I can so relate. 

Dear espn.com

Thanks for providing us with this poll. I couldn't agree more. The Rays are about 50 billion times better than the Sox. That is all.  

Sometimes Funny Things Happen

So I'm at work. I get a text from Brooke's husband Mark.
What is your specialty?

To which I reply:
Family Practice, but I currently work in trauma

To which he replies:
I meant do you make a mean green jello salad?

Wait, what?

Oh yeah, I offered to bring a side dish to her birthday party.

Everything is awesome.

OCD

I don't actually have OCD, but I can be a little quite compulsive at times. For example, I searched long and hard on the interweb until I found the perfect white hangers at Shopko.com and I bought 60 of them because I was so concerned I might not be able to find them again and I can't live without white hangers. Uh....

What happens when you try to photograph a child.

First he hides.

 Then he looks at his mom.  

Then he climbs around on everyone.  

 Then he closes his eyes, 

 and opens them just in time for everyone else to look away. 

In other news, aren't my brothers attractive?

I lived for almost 2 weeks without the internet, and I didn't die

In the meantime, the nephew got a new pair of Jordan's, but if you ask him about them, he'll tell you they aren't Jordan's, they are HIS. 

I was born in a hospital and other such nonsense.

I'd like to tell you a little story about Nick Homer. 

Once Nick went to eat midnight meal with nurse-friend Brooke. He called her on his way over to the hospital and she asked if he would be able to find it. Nick said:

Oh please Brooke, I was born in a hospital!

Flashback: Summer 2008

I was 2 weeks past being homeless, 2 days out of an awesome spray on tan, and 2 hours away from signing a contract that would make me roommates with Ms. Brooke at an apartment neither of us had ever seen before. We'd been planning this little fotohike for something like 2 years. 

I don't know what's better: Lisha's pose, Jenn's awesome smile or my $5.99 track jacket. 

Atlanta

It's true. I went to Georgia to visit Liz. Not myself, but the one from high school! and it was awesome.

 I loved the Coke Factory more than I would have guessed. 

 I bought this Diet Coke piggy bank, which is always a good idea. Good thing they don't sell cans that big, because, caffeine, right? 

 

 Botanical Gardens at UGA. And also, humidity-induced hair. 

A visit from one of my favorite old roommates, Ms. Ellsworth. 

Also, the picture quality isn't great and so I send my apologies. 

My phone broke and this is the temporary replacement. 

Things I didn't hug in Atlanta

Green rental car

Turner Field

Buster Posey (not because I didn't want to, mind you)

Coke statue

Coke bottles. Or the attractive young man who complimented me on these earrings. Or the woman who sold them to me. 

 Polar bear. 

(actually I did hug him, I just don't have photo documentation)

Hugging stuff in Atlanta

That's mostly what I did. See?

Spiral Jetty

Well Jenn and I did this the other day. 

 

 

Two day shipping, free returns and the like

Dear Amazon Prime,

I think I love you.

That is all.

On Loving Life

I moved to a new city that everyone in my old city thought would be terrible. But I love my new city. I love that on the way home tonight, I headed east instead of west and drove up a canyon on accident. It isn't as easy to bike as the canyon in that other city, but the sun still hits the mountains and makes me feel just right.

I can't believe I ever thought about doing anything but accepting my new job. I leave every day feeling invigorated, stretched and expanded. Also tired. But really great. 

New swim flippers and an outdoor pool have done more for my health and happiness than anything but loving my job again, and also, I bought a new house. 

So there's that. 

I thought I was sick of reading, but it turns out I just needed to read some sci-fi.

engaging, imaginative, exciting, intelligent etc.
I re-read it in preparation for the movie
I'm not much for movies
but I'll probably go and see this one in the theater
I may even camp out and go to the midnight showing
if I can get el James to come along

Here's the thing about Ender's Game.
I was still just as blown away by how utterly brilliant
Ender Wiggin is/was (would he still be alive?)
I still can't get over
the enemy's gate is down
or the way they use each other's bodies as shields

I used to hate the end. I thought it was a cop-out.
But yesterday as I finished the book again,
I realized that the book is perfect.
The only thing that would make it better is if
I could be just as surprised this time as I was
the first time by what was actually happening there at the end.

Neil Young's Harmonica

Dear Neil Young, 

Thanks for spending that extra time learning to play the harmonica. You probably could have made it big with  just your voice and a guitar, but you went above and beyond and because of that, we have Heart of Gold. You did good.

Love,

Liz

I missed you every night while we were apart.

Do you know what I could cuddle up to and spend every night for the rest of my life with? 

My memory foam pillow.

Dr Aunt Liz

Me: Okay, sit right here so the doctor can fix it.

Nephew: Are you Doctor Aunt Liz?

Me: Yes I am. 

Officially a Doctor of Nursing (and none too soon, I might add!)

This is not a sneaky reference to anything in my personal life, it's just something I wish I would have said before he did.

 Also, it's 8 seconds long, so it's totally worth watching. 

Baby Birds

A little bird couple built their home in my parents' barbecue grill,

and now Los Padres are raising little baby Voldemorts.

You Know You're A Nurse When (Part 16)

You wake up on a tired morning to pray and you accidentally ask God to help you be "alert and oriented."

On Paralysis

I.
At ATLS we learned about spinal cord trauma. How to manage a patient in the trauma bay after a recent paralysis. Usually the patient is so panicked about not being able to move his or her arms and/or legs that he or she is screaming, yelling and in shock. It can be distracting, but there are often other seriously life threatening issues occurring so you always have to go back to the ABCs. Treat the biggest threat to life first.

II.
He jumped off of something and landed on his head. Broke his neck. Immediately yelled to his friends, "Guys! I can't move my arms or legs." After he recovered, he had a tiny bit of movement of his biceps. Nothing below the nipple line. Every time we’d go into his room, it was just so solemn. A lot of tears as the realization that everything he’d dreamed about his life was no longer real.

My friend met a guy who broke his back in an accident. Was paralyzed from the waist down. The neurosurgeon came in to talk about the surgery he’d need to do in order to stabilize the fracture. “Will I be able to walk again after the surgery?” “No.” And the realization that he’d never be able to walk again. His family told him they still wanted him around as he wondered if he’d rather have died.

III.
I woke up late and stretched my arms overhead. Realized for the first time how miraculous it is that I can do that. I can stretch from fingers to toes and walk for hours in the nighttime air and ride my bike and move myself to place to place. I should wake up every morning with a profound sense of gratitude for the amazing life I am living and the body I’ve been given.

IV.
Please don’t jump or dive into things when you don’t know their depth or off of things that are too tall to be jumped from, wear a seat belt with a lap and a shoulder belt, keep your kids safe in a car seat, don’t text while driving, don’t drive drowsy, don’t keep a loaded gun where it can hurt someone innocent, don’t ever point a gun at someone even in jest, and please oh please be grateful for every day in your blessed, moving body.

I spent the day at ATLS.

Here is what I learned:

People in the trauma bay should always have a lower heart rate than the patient, unless [the patient is] coding. 

Kids are just little adults, but they have big heads, rubber bones, and they heal like ET. 

Thank You, Urban Dictionary For Providing This Moment

Remember that time in like 2008 that it was really cool to look your name up on urban dictionary? 

Well, maybe I did that today maybe. 

Nailed it. Especially the part about being close to perfect, oh, and also delusional. Oh wait...

Reflections on the Past: May 13

I am twenty three

things are not
yet as they will be

we are sitting on 

the library perch

in bare feet

and I am either 

crying or sad

while he is affirming

fleeting contentment
like napping
in the late afternoon

and waking
just as the sun
is setting

The thing about baseball

is that when I watch it I want to be like my dad.

And when I think about baseball I think about that time
S-- and I finally went to a game and
it started to rain
I don't even think we got to watch an inning
it started pouring
so we took ourselves,
that blue plaid blanket and
went up under the white canvas
probably sang some neil diamond and
talked about the romance of baseball
the classiness of pinstripes and clean-shaven faces
redemption and home runs

1.11.13

So, I got a new job.
You probably already heard,
but if you didn't,

it's in trauma


I have to say it quiet because I still can't believe it's real life.

If you don't say something...then, in a sense, isn't your silence a form of consent and complicity? -Jonathan Katz

Last night I went to a bonfire. There was a guy there who started this absurd and offensive racially (and otherwise) inappropriate dialogue, which I'm sorry to tell you I participated in. I could defend myself and say I did so minimally, that I didn't say anything as shocking as what you're probably imagining, but really, that's not the point. The point is that I failed to stop or leave or change a conversation that never should have happened in the first place. 

Of course today I watched this TED talk by Jonathan Katz (it gets fantastic about minute 12 or so). He said, "If you don't say something...then, in a sense, isn't your silence a form of consent and complicity?" I started to reflect on how I handled, or in this case, didn't handle the situation. The way my silence indicated consent, my laughter indicated complicity and my comments indicated concession.

I wish I had asked him to stop.

I wish I had asked him to tone it down.

I wish I hadn't laughed at what he said.
I wish I hadn't contributed in any way. 

But life isn't about regret. It's about change. And so, here I am, Internet, committing to do it differently next time. I don't know exactly how or what I'll do to handle it in a sincere, direct, and honest fashion, but I'm committing to you that I will do it differently, because I will not be a silent bystander to hatred or oppression. 

Hey Old Gal

 Love that dog,
like a bird loves to fly
I said I love that dog
like a bird loves to fly
Love to call him in the morning
love to call him
“Hey there, Sky!”

-Sharon Creech-

I’m gonna miss you little lady. 

All your howling at the sirens and tail wagging and fast eating and blurry picture taking and shedding on the carpet and licking me when I'm sad and letting me use you as a foot rest while I read. 

You're a good dog, Old Gal. 

Old Belle. 

When I Become a Rapper

I'll start saying things like:

Now I may not be the worst or the best, but you gotta respect my honesty. And I may break your heart, but I don’t really think there’s anybody as bomb as me.  -Ludacris

Keep reppin’ me. Do it to the death of me. X in the box cause ain’t nobody checkin me. –Nicki Minaj

I see the future, but live for the moment. Makes sense, don’t it?

I make dollars. I mean billions.

I’m a genius. I mean brilliant.

-Pitbull

But most importantly, and in all seriousness, who doesn’t want to have this kind of control of the English language?

On Jake Peavy

Hi, I'm Jake Peavy, and I'm gorgeous and awesome. And you can read my GQ interview and access this photo here. 

The Fridge of the Lounge at Any American Hospital