Friends, Romans, and Granddaughters

A couple of weeks ago, I spent the day in the home of one of my very favorite patients ever.  She was dying, but didn't want to go to hospice, because she didn't want to lose her nurse (me).  She was stubborn like that.  She had planned her funeral, right up to a seating chart, and had paid for it all, in cash, some weeks before.  She knew what was coming and had, in fact, told me the night before that she was ready to go, because she was just flat out tired.  I spent the day getting her comfortable, with a pain pump and nausea meds.  It was a long day, but I knew I'd done what I could.  In fact, I had put a catheter in her, which was no small feat, because though her eyes had been shut for hours, she started moving every time I made the attempt.  I finally got it in, but not before she said to me, eyes still closed "that's just about enough."  Those were her last words.  She had waited for her dear friend to arrive from out of state, but was comatose when the friend arrived.

I took her in and explained the situation, then let her have time alone time with her best friend.  I was going to leave soon, because I had gotten my patient as comfortable as I could, but I wanted to be sure that everyone had their questions answered.  A group of us sat down in the kitchen to have a heart to heart.  The friend came in and joined us, then looked me in the eye earnestly and said "Miss Lisa, can you please explain to me what Roman cancer is?"  I was confused, and asked her to repeat herself.  "Roman cancer.  What is it?"  I couldn't for the life of me think of what she was talking about, and it must've shown on my face, because the next thing you know, she said "I'm so sorry, I don't have my bottom teeth in, so I'm not sayin' it right.  I said ROMAN cancer."  I replied, "I'm so sorry, but I'm still not sure what you mean."  We just kind of looked at each other, each trying to figure out what it was.

It was about then that her granddaughter said, without ever looking up from her plate, "Oh Miss Evie, it roamin' cancer.  She called it that cause it was roamin' all over her body."

And that, dear people, is yet another reason why I'm a nurse.

Bedtime.

It has been an exhausting week, what with a dad with a helicopter ride from hospital to hospital,  all this talk of graduations and wedding, and a boo with the flu.....I can totally second Jill's proclamation of being exhausted. So tonight, Seth and I went and got our hair cut.  On the way home, I told him I was just unbelievably tired.  And said that I was going to go to bed early.  And that if anyone in this house sees me awake after 11pm, they need to shoot me.

He just came upstairs and poked his head in the office and announced "It's ONE HOUR till your bedtime, young lady."

Now I'm worried.

Hand written

Jill texted me Monday night to let me know how her first day of her last semester of undergrad went, and said she was exhausted.  Rightfully so, since she's in school full time, working three jobs plus being a teacher's assistant in another class.  Girlfriend has got to be tired.  She called me yesterday and I was with a patient, so I tried calling her back, to no avail.  Texted her to be sure everything was ok.  She texted back later on saying she had just called to tell me about her first day of class, and that it was exhausting.  She's so tired she's repeating herself a bit, but that's ok.

So she called me today, and of course I missed the call.  Called her back and she said she is having great fun as a teacher's assistant for a class of 144.  She was particularly excited, however, that she had gotten an email from one of the grad schools she's applied to.

"Mom, it was a hand written email."

I'll give that a minute to sink in.

I figured that girlfriend was just exhausted, but no, she repeated it two more times during the conversation which, hilariously, was interrupted simultaneously by Michael calling Jill's phone from the next room, and Jim, who has the flu, was calling my phone from his sickbed upstairs.  Kind of the equivalent of the days when I used to IM Thomas to tell him to come down to dinner.  I did not, however, hand write the IM.

There are, after all, those who lament the passing of cursive writing, may it rest in peace.  And some day, the kids of the next generation will lament that passing of the hand written email.  And just in case you are wondering, the "hand written" email was, as Jill explained, not a canned response to her application.  It was an email that was obviously written to Jill, not "to whom it may concern."  Keep your fingers crossed that the acceptance letter isn't far behind.  I know I am.

It's Been a While........

Since we've enjoyed a bit 'o Sethanese.  And so it was that tonight, the Spare to the Throne came upstairs and handed me a piece of paper and a pen.  It's the beginning of the semester, which means Mom signs syllabi that promise his teachers that I have read it (at this point, I don't) and that Seth will do everything the instructor requests (he does).  I signed it.  Handed it back to him.  Told him to go. to. bed.

He walked away.  I said "hey, here's your pen."  He looked at me blankly and said "it's not my pen."  I said "You gave it to me."  His reply?

"That means it's YOUR pen."  He wandered out, shaking his head at my lack of comprehension.

See, this is where Sethanese both makes perfect sense, and drives the mother to the brink of madness.

Just Enjoy the Moment

Well, Christmas and New Year's have come and gone, so we can all heave a big sigh of relief.  We started out with our normal tradition of getting a tree together -- likely the last Christmas that we will all be here to do it, so we waited for the Bratty Girl and her Young Man to get home.  Jill decorated the house in her typically festive spirit, but before we could do Christmas (on the 23rd, mind you, because I had to work on Christmas Day -- or so I thought....), we had Jill's birthday.  We didn't do anything special really, just dinner at Boston Market, then she and Michael headed to Christmas at the Zoo.  They do love the zoo.

Well, the 23rd came quickly enough, and I figured they'd be chomping at the bit to open presents, as soon as Jim and I got back from church.  But NOOOOO.......first Thomas informs me that he still has to wrap things.  Now, Thomas' and Seth's version of wrapping is this (and I sure wish I had the picture of Jill's birthday present, wrapped by The Heir and The Spare):  Plunk gift down on wrapping paper.  Cut wrapping paper bigger than the present.  Crunch the paper up with no real regard to neatness or hospital corners.  Engulf entire parcel with Priority Mail packing tape, rendering it virtually impossible to get open.  Yeah, it's man-wrapping.  But I digress.

Thomas wrapped whatever it was that he needed to wrap, then Jill disappeared.  Now, I was on call, so I had to do all of this in between phone calls on a VERY busy day, so the mother was not amused by the brat's absence.  Whilst she was gone, quiet Michael, who speaks sparingly, informs the boys that while they were at the zoo, someone got engaged "and yeah, Jill was not too happy after that."  I'll bet not.........

And then Jill walked in, stuffed my stocking full of Almond Joy and other assorted coconut filled candy, and we were off to the unwrapping races. Thanks to Dave Ramsey, I was able to have a credit-cardless holiday and still have a crazy stack 'o loot under the tree, and everyone was quite happy in the end:

It even wore the dog out.  And may I add, that couch is ugly as sin, but Thomas says I can never get rid of it, because Boo is certain that it's his.  And I'm sure that Thomas is right about that.  But I digress.

But the highlight of the day was the last present, presented to Jill by Michael:

Yep.  A whole lotta bling going on.  And one VERY happy girl.  And mother too, I might add.  There were some tears, a kiss and a hug, and then the bratty one runs up to me, hugs me, then steps back, panic stricken, and says "what do I do now?"  The poor dear looked terrified.

"Just enjoy the moment, sweetie.  Just enjoy the moment."

A Feeling of Impending Sneeze

I'm on vacation this week.  We can't take vacation at work in January, February or March, because of the new EMR training, so I figured I'd jump in and take a week off before I can't.  I sent an email to scheduling with the subject line "pick two days", as in pick two consecutive days and let me have them off.  As it was, I got the week.  And so it was that I figured I'd get some organizing done around here, cleaning, and get the garage set up so two cars can get in there.  All in all, having some relaxing days doing stuff that I enjoy.

And then Monday came.  Well, maybe it started on Sunday, when I drove to Vincennes to drop off a couple of chickens (that's a story for another day).  Got home about 8 or so and hit the sack early cause man, I was tired.  So I woke up Monday morning with a stuffy head.  Bleh. Couldn't straighten up very well.  Add to that that I was as tired as all get out and I just decided, what the heck, I'm on vacation, so I'm gonna go back to bed.  So I did.......until 3pm.  Oye vay.  When I got up at 3, I was still so stinkin tired that I just went back to bed again at 5 nnd slept through the night.

This went on for three days.  All in all, I think I was up for a total of maybe 8 hours, and ninety percent of that was spent sitting in bed with my laptop and a stack of patterns around me.  (Part of the goal of this week was to get mega patterns listed on the website.)  Geez Louise!  I've never slept that much in my life.  I had Sudafed, hot toddies (yum), Nyquil, and a big fat pillow to keep me company. Talk about the life of leisure!

But it's the kind of sickness that makes me nutty:  no fever, just a stuffy nose and congestion (dontcha hate that?), really achy joints and extreme, extreme, extreme fatigue.  Heck, I'd have thought mono, except I didn't have a sore throat or swollen glands.  Finally, I talked to my old boss on Facebook, and she reminded me that an RA flare can do this.  BINGO!  I was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis earlier this year and although I've had flares of joint pain, I had totally missed the fatigue part.  I followed her recommendations -- stay in bed, lots of Vitamin C, and eat well, and in two to three days it should be better -- and finally today, day four of vacation, I got things accomplished.  Fortunately, it never sunk into my chest, though my asthma disappeared once they realized what had caused it -- latent TB that bought me a year of treatment.  Yeah, it's been a weird year, but I got answers to problems that have plagued me for a long time, so no more joint aches (most days), no more hacking up a lung, and at least knowing how to head it off once it starts.  Knowing the plan of attack is half the battle, yes?

So today, Thomas and I ran around dropping off stuff that I've cleaned out of closets at the DAV, consignment stores, and the like.  I cleaned up part of the garage, thanks to The Heir.  And I even got to spend some time with the girls (as in chickens.  Dinner with The Girls is next week.)  I finally feel productive, though the nose is still running and congested (still hate that), and I have a near constant feeling of an impending sneeze (hate that more that never seems to follow through.  I even got to see my boo tonight -- and he reminded me that I got sick the last time I took vacation, too.  

Hmmmmm...........maybe I need to rethink the whole vacation thing.

Tradition

Me: "How can you turn off the Macy's parade, Thomas. It's a tradition!"

Thomas: "Well, so was burning witches at the stake, Mother. And you don't see me doing that either."

And also: