Without words, she spoke volumes

When I walked into her hospital room, I never expected her to shake her head "no" when I asked her if she knew who I was. I guess I should have, but I really never considered it. I shared a room as a child with my great grandmother and even after Alzheimer's set in, she knew who I was - far longer than she knew most other people.

I figured it'd be the same with Mommasiddie. She's never not known me. But, it happened - and it hit me pretty hard.

She had moved to the neuro floor by the time I arrived in SA and the doctors had already placed a PEG tube since she couldn't swallow. This didn't seem to bother her, so it didn't bother me either. I asked her several times if she was in pain. Sometimes she said yes, sometimes she said no. I asked her again if she knew who I was. She shook her head yes and smiled.

The 4 days I spent with her continued to be like this. Every few minutes we'd start all over. She had such a hard time talking, I just would tell her to rest and that she didn't have to talk. I was happy just sitting with her, smiling when she smiled or telling her where she was and what had happened when she looked confused.

I had been hesitant to go back to see her. I just didn't know the right thing to do, but it's one of the better decisions I've made in my life.

We shared some great moments. She took my hand and touched her face with it. Then, she'd take hers and touch mine. There were moments she was not in this world, her eyes were elsewhere. There were other moments that our eyes told stories to each other.

When she couldn't say "I love you," she pointed to her heart, then pointed at me. She's a beautiful lady, my Mommasiddie. She always has been. She took my sister's hand in one of hers and mine in the other and just smiled and looked back and forth. Without any words, she spoke volumes.

When she could communicate, she asked me to pray with her. She told me, "Ask God ." I said, "Ask God for what?" She replied, "Ask God for everything." I had later asked her, "Mom, what do you want?" She replied, "I want what God wants." She's always been such a woman of faith and when words didn't come easy for her, she still managed to talk about what is truly important to her.

The hardest moment came when Lydia told her that if she was ready to go, that she should go. She just smiled. I told her how much I loved her and that if she was ready, not to worry about Lydia and I - we'd be ok. We'd be ok because she and Boppa did a great job of raising us. I thanked her for raising us and thanked her for being my mother.

She just smiled, but it spoke volumes.

When I left that day, she said very clearly, "I love you," and she was even able to give me a kiss. I get teary-eyed just typing it and even just thinking about it.

She gave me a gift that I'll never forget. I'll never forget that in her struggling to find words, she was able to tell me she loved me. She's pretty amazing, my Mommasiddie.

Great-Mommasiddie

This week sucks. Actually, to be completely honest, 2011 has little to be desired thus far. I've been sick for more than three weeks at this point, and I'm over it. My face is raw, I blow my nose several times an hour. I wake up numerous times during the night because I can't breathe. This virus needs to leave my body - now.

On Thursday night I got a call from my sister, Lydia, saying she had received "a call" from my mother. I asked, "a call, or the call?" "A call," she stated. My stomach dropped. First off, any call from my mother is reason for nausea. She's bad news. But, this one was reporting that my grandmother was on the way to the emergency room "and it didn't look good." These are the kind of cryptic messages that are to be expected from her.

After much waiting and mind racing, Lydia reports that my grandmother has had left hemorrhagic stroke and she is currently undergoing TPA and will be moved to the ICU when it's done. She's responsive, but unable to talk.

Aaron's also been sick, and he was already in bed for the night and the girls were putting on a show for me when the call came in. I tried to remain as "normal" as possible and not let on that anything was wrong. Kids are way too intuitive though. When I got off the phone, Ellie asked, "Mommy, is your Mommasiddie ok?" At this point I didn't know about the stroke, only that she was in the ER. I took a deep breath and did my best. I told her that she was sick and had to go to the hospital. She asked me if she was going to die. I said I didn't know.

I finished watching the show and helped them get ready for bed. After a series of questions about my mother and grandmother, Ellie asked me if she was supposed to call my grandmother "Mommasiddie" or "Great-Mommasiddie." I told her she could call her whatever she wanted, but that I especially liked Great Mommasiddie. I told her that she was a great mom and that calling her that would be very appropriate.

I love my kids.

Health Care Where it Matters Most

After running solo the last several runs, I was reunited with my loyal running partner this morning and together, we discovered how to make me millions.

She had a rather rough morning with the random events of day-to-day life, and running just seems to be therapy. We have great runs together, we catch up on life, debate important and not so important issues and plan our days - all the while, getting a good workout in.

Today was no different, but the subject matter was money and how much people charge for various services such as housekeeping, renovations and lawyers. She is involved in a class action lawsuit against Volkswagen (a whole blog in and of itself) and was saying she talked to the lawyers assistant because talking to the lawyer costs money, etc.

Anyway, I then thought - that's it. I'm going to start charging people to talk to me. I just couldn't see how with the Internet, people would actually call me to get health care advice and just not research things on their own. But she was certain if I market it right, it would work.

I then decided in my line of questioning I could throw things in like, "Well, it's important for me to know... (insert sexy nurse voice) what are you wearing right now," and "Can you touch where it hurts and tell me how it feels."

I mean, I'm not going to lie - it's not the best use of my license - I know this, but I could make a mint. Thus, "Health care Where it Matters Most," was born.

Genius.

I (don't) have the gene!!!

A discussion at work yesterday prompted me to take a survey of those of us working - who has stinky pee after eating asparagus? Out of 13 of us working, only three of us claimed that our pee didn't stink, myself included. Oh, and another who said her pee only smelled a little bit... perhaps she's got a mutated gene...

I actually also had this discussion with a friend a month or so ago, and after doing some research then, I found that statistics show that only 40 to 50 percent of people that eat asparagus have a gene that breaks down an enzyme (or enzymes) in asparagus, thus producing smelly pee. I also found that some people don't have the ability to smell the odor produced.

I don't know, maybe there's some weird nursing-asparagus eating link, but only three of us? I felt like maybe I was special. After some discussion, on of my coworkers agreed to bring in some asparagus (grilled, of course) and we'd run an experiment. I suddenly became scared that maybe I wasn't so special and I do have asparagus pee but just couldn't smell it.

In any event, the experiment went down today and it turns out that I don't have the gene to break down the enzyme - my pee is asparagus free. And, I'm able to smell what asparagus pee smells like (thanks, Amy). Am I special? Not according to statistics, but on my unit... yes I am.

The funniest part was when I found out that indeed my pee didn't have "the odor." I literally started jumping up and down in the bathroom yelling, "I have the gene!! I have the gene!!" I mean, I was wrong, I should have been yelling, "I don't have the gene!!"

The really good news is that I love asparagus and I can eat it for breakfast, lunch and dinner if I want - and know that my pee is asparagus-stench-free.

I wish I had a penis

I think every girl has either said this or at the very least, thought it at some point in her life. The girls were in the bathroom last night and I heard whispering and giggling from down the hall. I of course tip-toed closer to hear the subject matter and I heard Avery say, "I wish I had a penis, Ellie. If I did, my pee-pee would go up in the air to the toilet." Ellie covered her mouth while giggling. I'm quite certain this was the first time she'd even considered the idea of having a penis.

Avery on the other hand... I'm sure she's mulled this one over and really wishes for one. I mean, I can't say I blame her. The idea of peeing standing up is pretty appealing, especially when you think of gross public restrooms. It'd just be so much easier. There's lots of things that are appealing about having a penis, really. They've got the potential to be really fun, and useful too. The possibilities are endless.

I mean, don't get me wrong, I like what I've got. I'm just saying it would be fun, and rather convenient at times. I think sitting would be weird though. It just seems like it would get in the way and I don't think I could get used to it touching my leg all the time.

I guess what I'd really want is to have a penis I could throw in my purse and use it as needed. A "prn" penis, if you will. It could be used in gross bathroom situations... prn. I wouldn't limit it to emergencies though, it'd be fun to play with too.

You can't put a beagle in a backpack

I was driving the girls to school this morning and while I was waiting in traffic,  a guy on a bicycle pedaled by - acting as if nothing was weird - carrying an infant car seat in one hand and steering with the other. You can't make this shit up. Where was he going? Oh, I forgot to mention, there was no baby in the carrier.

Did he steal it? If so, who steals a baby seat? It's worse than stealing candy.... Did he drop the baby off (via bicycle) and take the baby seat with him? If so, why didn't he leave the seat with the baby? Was he going somewhere to pick up a baby on a bike? What mother would willingly turn their baby over to someone who was going to pedal off with them - to God knows where? I mean, so. many. questions. I. have.

And, being a nurse at a level 1 trauma center, I went from laughter, intrigue and wonder to anger. Said baby (if one exists) will probably end up at the hospital because of this idiot. This happens to me all the time. It's just usually with unhelmeted motorcyclists and not guys on bikes with baby carriers. I drive around this town and every time I see someone riding their motorcycle without a helmet I say to myself, "See you next week, idiot - I'll be wiping your ass." It sucks. And it's even worse if they are driving recklessly and unhelmeted.

It does however remind me of a funny incident several months ago. I was meeting a friend from nursing school after work one night, and on the way to meet her I got cut off by a guy pulling out of a gas station on a motorcycle without a helmet. He also was wearing a yellow backpack. We got stopped at the next stop light and I was directly behind him and noticed the backpack was moving. He reached back, fumbled with the backpack, (meanwhile, the light turned green) slightly unzipped it - and a little beagle dog face popped out.

Are you kidding me? You can't put a beagle in a backpack and drive him around on a  motorcycle. You just can't, people. My next thought was of course that the dog was going to jump out and I'd get in an accident trying to avoid the damn thing and end up at my own hospital.

Anyway, I guess my point is, people do stupid shit. But sometimes, it's funny. Funny uh-oh, but still funny.

Are you kidding me?

It's Friday, my day off and my favorite day of the week for several reasons. I usually like to try to relax on Fridays, but that doesn't always happen. After a little laundry and cleaning, I entered the girl's room to pack a bag for their sleep over tonight.

It's funny trying to pack for them, they usually do it themselves. I find myself trying to think like them - what pajamas would they like, what clothes for tomorrow and most importantly, what stuffed animal to take. Ellie's pretty easy. She's predictable. She'll want the usual, and on top of being predictable, she neat, so I knew right where to go to find all of her stuff.

I've finally figured out what to pack for Avery, minus the stuffed animal. She rarely sleeps with the same one. So, I sit on her bed and evaluate what she's got. If any of you know me, you've probably heard me talk about Avery's bad hording habits. The kid can stuff things in places you'd never imagine and with such quantity.

I begin to pull things out of the SMALL gap between her mattress and the wall. Here's a list of what I find: one small quilt, one small fleece blanket. a stuffed dolphin, Minnie mouse, dog, and teddy bear. I found two pull ups - one clean, one used (Gross, right?). Two pajama tops, one bottom and tons of popcorn kernels (they aren't allowed to eat in their rooms....).

She'll probably be very upset that I unearthed her stash, but come on. A used pull-up? That's nasty.