My Silly Dog

My Pupples is camera shy, or rather cell phone shy.  Silly chicken.

This is the loyal pup who still sits outside's McArmy's door wondering where the heck one of his favorite humans went and why hasn't he come back.

This is the loyal pup who leaps in excitement every time McSelfish comes home even though Pupples is almost completely ignored by the fool.

Pupples waits for me at the entrance to the garage, tail wagging furiously, when I come home from my very long days.  His whole body wiggles as I give him a short rub down and let him lick me.  He jumps into the air in excitement when I open the door.

McHub also gets one happy Pupples greeting at the front door.

Pupples will snuggle up with us, thrilled for the attention.

All he asks is to be loved, fed, played with, and hopefully walked once a day.  He's one sweet and loving dog.

The guilt is going to nag at me the week we're in Georgia.  Pupples will be having his first ever stay at a kennel.  Can't trust McSelfish to feed him let alone meet the dog's needs while we're gone.

I know the kennel is the best place for him.  They'll walk him each day and he'll have the opportunity to socialize with other dogs.  The dog runs are inside/outside with a heated area and 20 feet long.  He'll be fed and we'll leave him some blankies with our scents on them and some toys.

Why do I feel like a bad dogmom?  Like I'm deserting him.

Some Days I Want To Pull My Hair Out!

Today was one of those days.

A day where little things conspired to make me feel frustrated with co-workers, residents, the pharmacy we use, my ineptitude in certain areas of nursing, and my spouse/dog/older son.

A day where I walked into undone and/or unexplained incidents that should have had paper documentation.  It's quite difficult to ascertain what happened in the less than 12 hours I was away from work between Monday and today.  Also difficult to document events that I was not present for yet inevitably come under my overall jurisdiction.  There are certain protocols that are supposed to be followed and I wish every one was on the same page.

It was a perfect day for someone with ADD to handle.  I found it hard to keep jumping from issue to issue at 100 miles an hour. A day of non stop interruptions.  I feel as if I've left any number of tasks undone just because it was that kind of day.

Then attempting to telecommute from home once I got home made my day seem endless.  As the dog whined for attention and the other members of the family apparently lost their ears for the evening........

Sigh.

I need to figure out a way to chill my tired little brain out.  Anyone have a sledge hammer close by?

Oh wait!  Let's not forget the expected 6 inches of snow for tomorrow.  :P~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two Years Ago.......

I wrote this blog post...

"I've had it with foul language from my son, his complete lack of respect, his sneering as if I haven't been 17 and a senior in high school. He learned much of his disrespect from his father and that is simply unacceptable.

No one is this house cares about my schooling, the fact I received 4 A's and one B in my first quarter was ignored. No one cares if I have tests I need to study for. Everything is about them, them, THEM!

I am trying to get the education so that I can get a job and support myself. I will stay here because I have no choice but I am tired of just taking it. I am not invisible, I'm not a punching(metaphorically speaking)bag.

I will finish school. I will achieve excellent grades. I will pass my NCLEX on the first try. I will get a job. I will move out. These are my goals. This is my life and I'm taking it back."

Looking back, I have to say my grades were acceptable, I did graduate nursing school, I did pass my NCLEX on the first try, I have gotten a job.  I have not moved out.  Oh well, four out of five goals achieved isn't bad.  Not bad at all.

That surly teenager will now be defending our freedom.  He was my defender before I could even see that fact.  He's the one who cheered the loudest when I graduated.  He's the one who posted on Facebook first when I passed the NCLEX.  He's the one who believed in me all along.  Damn, I raised a good man/boy.

Now I need to believe in him.  Trust in Him.  Love both hims.

Yes Donna, he does look 14.  Yes he's too young.  However, if someone is going to represent the United States in foreign countries I can't imagine a better, more loyal, loving, and Christian young man to be the one.  He has compassion and kindness and a desire to defend those who can't defend themselves.  May God always have McArmy's back and be by his side. (Because the Army won't let me follow him around......)

Finally A Phone Call

After 4 weeks of no phone calls my cell phone rang at 4:05 p.m. yesterday.  It was McArmy.

I closed my med room doors and talked with my son for 7 minutes.  He had more time, I had oh-my-gosh-we-can't-miss-dinner-or-the-world-will-end residents waiting at my back door.

He sounded tired.

I don't know if it was his reception or mine but there was a lag.

He's officially decided to forgo his Ranger option and just go on to airborne school.

If he is placed with the rest of his platoon going on to airborne, he'll end up at Fort Bragg in the 82nd Airborne.

They'll be deployed in September.

Yeah.  Loud silence here too.

The crazy thing is all the guys are excited they'll be deployed so quickly.

It may play out in some entirely different manner.  I have no idea at this time.

I was thrilled to talk with him.

Not so thrilled with the other news.

Anyone want to start a "Let's get our soldiers the hell out of Afghanistan BEFORE the anniversary of 9/11/01!" movement with me????

90 Minutes in Heaven

I just finished reading 90 Minutes in Heaven by Don Piper.

This book is about Don Piper, a pastor of a very large Baptist church in Texas, who was in a horrific car accident in 1989 where he was clinically dead for 90 minutes.  In those 90 minutes he went to heaven as it is described in the bible.  Then he was sucked back into his body for a very painful recovery.

Whether you believe in an afterlife or not, this is an interesting book that will cause you to think.

The main theme of the book is similar to Romans 8:28~all things happen according to God's purpose (I'm paraphrasing).

Don was hit head on by a truck on a two lane bridge causing him to have extensive injuries to his limbs.  One leg lost 4 inches of femur, one arm was crushed, and both other limbs were broken.  The paramedics could find no heartbeat and declared him dead.  He could not be moved because he was smashed into his car and they needed the jaws of life to extract him.

Another pastor stopped at the scene and felt compelled to pray for the dead man.  He climbed into the trunk of the mangled car and touched the man on the shoulder and prayed.  After a certain amount of time Don began to moan and he was alive.

The story does on to how Don was extracted, followed by the story of his recovery.

You have to read it to get the full story.  It's all about providence and answered prayers.

I'm mulling it all over.  It took me several days to read as I had to read a chapter or two and then stop so A)I could stop crying because it brought up many emotions and it's not the kind of book you can fly through and B)it's a lot for a Christian to take in.

I have to say I do believe in heaven. I believe with all my heart that some day I'll be reunited with my son Brennan.  I believe heaven is a place of joy and no pain.

If you do believe you might want to read this book.

Fear and Loathing Near Seattle

I'm showing my age with that title huh?

I walked Pupples this evening and I was pissed.  I was angry because my older son has totally abdicated any responsibility when it comes to his dog.  I was angry because McHub can't get off his ass to walk the dog.  Hell, he only walks to the kitchen and back lately.

Anger helped me walk faster and hold the dog's leash in a way that made it difficult for him to pull, especially after I yanked him back several times.  Pit bulls are notorious for pulling especially when they haven't been exercised in several days. (No I did not hurt the dog.  I wanted to when I was cleaning up his poop and he pulled and I ended up with dog poop on my hands 8 blocks from home, but I did not lash out at the dog.)

My anger is a symptom of a greater issue.  Or issues.

I am pretty sure that McArmy joined the Army to get out of Dodge.  In other words, he ran away.  Just like when he was 6 years old, packed all his clothes in a duffle bag along with his blankets and pillow, stormed out the door trying desperately to drag the duffle bag behind him as he screamed, "I hate it here (or I hate you and your rules or some variation) and you don't love me, so I'm leaving!"

This is not necessarily a bad thing as it was the first major decision he made all by himself without asking me to intervene in some way.  That is a positive sign.  I can't even blame him for wanting to get away from home as I felt exactly the same way at his age.

Now to get to one of the main roots of my anger:  How dare he choose a pathway I simply cannot comprehend?  How dare he leave me behind?  How dare he pick a lifestyle that will put him in harm's way when he knew my greatest fear is losing another child?

I even know the answer to these questions:  It's not all about me.  (Whoa, shocking realization.)

But, but, but, it should be more about me, I think in my delusions.  Under all the anger and fear is a deep sense of hurt.  He choose to leave and in such a way that he severed that umbilical cord with a machete.  OUCH!

It hurts my heart.  It hurts my soul.  I mean, who gave him permission to grow up?  Cuz I sure as hell didn't.  Except I did, didn't I?

I spent his lifetime trying to teach him how to be a responsible, faithful, honest, loyal, and patriotic adult.  Damn me!

I suppose I'm really angry at myself in a round about way. (Growing up Catholic really messed with my guilt receptors, didn't it?)

At this very moment I'm hurt and kinda angry that he didn't think to write me about the 15 birthday cards I sent him.  Yes, I did mean to write fifteen because I did send him 15 cards.  He hasn't written anything of what I consider substance in several weeks.  In other words, things I want to know about.  (I've got to get over this all about me thing sooner rather than later.)  I don't know if he's made the final decision to not move on to Ranger Selection after Airborne training.  If he did make that decision, he did not write about what airborne unit they would likely send him to which other soldiers in his company found out on February 9.  (Picture me stamping my feet because I want to know these things!)

Letting go is something I have great difficulty doing.  I don't know how to move onto a life where I'm not the all important mother guiding her children.  I have no clue.  It's a cosmic NOW WHAT in my future.

I really don't like the not knowing and having absolutely no control thing.  Nope, not one bit.  In fact I really think it sucks.

I have no answers for myself and no wisdom for those reading.  It's all out in the unknown zone.

Favorite Quote of The Month

WARNING: This absurd chronicle contains anti-euphemistic jingoisms and may employ opprobrious vernacular deemed acceptable by those expressing dispassionate perspicacity and lacking sanctimonious hubris.

From one of my favorite blogs Security is For Cadavers.

(Because I'm intellectual like that.)

I've BeenTold...

I've been told by people I work with that I'm too intellectual.  That the words I use are too big.  Seriously.  I don't use 4 syllable words to impress anyone, it's just the way I speak.  The fact I spent 5 years at a university 20 some odd years ago makes me brainy.

I've also been told my sense of humor is very "dry" and takes awhile to get.

I suppose this is because I keep a straight face and utilize sarcasm, irony, and facetiousness.  I am not, however, crude or "down to earth".  (I'm not comfortable discussing sex toys with co-workers.  Sue me.)

I also tend to use correct grammar when speaking.  I was taught to never use double negatives.  I do not use the word ain't(because it isn't a word).

Personally, I think I speak like I graduated from a fairly decent high school.  I have a broad vocabulary because I've been reading since I was four and because I have a love affair with words.  Because of these things I think there's a perception I'm slightly stuck up.

When I use medical terminology and acronyms they think I'm funny.  Dumb me, I thought it was appropriate as I'm a nurse.

Again, I don't quite fit in.  I'm cool with that because I'm not going to dumb down my vocabulary or grammar.  I'm just being me.  The me who was educated on the East Coast and in the Midwest where grammar and vocabulary were emphasized.

I've been here in Washington Sate for 21 years and still don't quite fit in.  What's up with that?

Swinging Makes Me Nauseous

Ever since McArmy joined the Army, since I got this job, since so many happenings in my life are not under my direct control~I've been having some serious mood swings.

Not bipolar mood swings, just feeling almost good one minute and sad and down the next.

For example, today began with me cussing out the job after my alarm woke me up at 5:15 a-freaking-m.  Then I was fairly surly on the drive to work cussing out the truck drivers and the slow mergers.  I walked into the fire alarm shrilling and the residents fairly unpleasant.

By the time 9:30 rolled around I was in a somewhat chipper mood without the aid of caffeine.

I was good even when state walked through the door to investigate two falls resulting in head injuries from last week.  I did not even consider panicking.  Luckily I had kept the charts updated on these two incidents (go me!)

My afternoon was somewhat crazed but no more crazed than a typical work day.

I even sang and bopped with the radio on the cruise home.

Then I read the letter from the Commander about McArmy's graduation from Basic.  The line that stood out as if it were neon:  Please don't write your soldier after 2-15-11.  SAY WHUT?  That's tomorrow.  Are you saying I will have even less communication with my son?  Crap.  It only takes a letter 3 days to arrive in Georgia but apparently the Army runs on their own time schedule.  McArmy's staying at Benning after graduation for 3 weeks of airborne training and the Army can't figure out how to forward his mail across the street?  The cranky starts to creep into my brain.

Next I discovered the dog ate one of my special pens and one of McArmy's comforters.  Gritting my teeth now.

It's been over three weeks since I've actually spoken to my son and no mail for almost a week.  I know of some others in the same company that are doing airborne have an idea where they'll be stationed.  Not my kid.  No word on that at all.  Envy and some sadness enter me.

My mood just went south from there.  If I were a graph there'd be lots of spikes on it for today.

It's tiring.  The lack of enough sleep does not help.

I'm pretty sure "I wanna be (heavily) sedated!" as the Ramones used to sing.  Twenty twenty twenty four hours a day...................

Let Me Elaborate

...a wee bit on yesterday's post.

When I say I want to slap a patient silly for repeated requests for panic/anxiety/headache/stomach pain medication, it's not because I'm ignoring her real issues.  It's because she just swallowed said medications not 5 or 10 minutes ago and I'm not allowed to give her any more medication for 6 hours.  She forgets.  Every single day.  Fifteen times a day.  There's a history of medication abuse and she has some issue that she feels pills will fix every 5-30 minutes at least 12 hours each and every day.  It's not that I'm lacking compassion.  It's that I have parameters I'm required by law to follow.  I have taken the time to sit down and listen to this person numerous times.  But two days ago I was attempting to finish off a task that requires me to check and double check that the medications I'm putting away are in the right place, under the correct person's name, at the correct time of day.  If I mess this up medication errors happen more frequently.  Not necessarily by me either.  I am not the sole person who takes medication out of these carts.  I take this responsibility quite seriously and some one knocking on my door every five minutes messes with my concentration, my patience, and really drives my frustration level sky-high.

I work in a situation where I'm the only nurse on duty.  I need to ensure things are in the right place, people get the right dose of medication at the right time, and in the right way.

You may think me callous and uncaring.  That's your opinion.

Those of you who think of Florence Nightingale when you think of nurses in today's world might want to consider the reality of nursing in the year 2011.

Just saying.

Slapping Silly

I know it's wrong.

I know violence is never a solution.

I've never slapped anyone in my lifetime but that doesn't stop from wanting to slap certain people silly this week.

1.  My spouse, who's being his usual I-can't-express-myself-like-a-big-boy so I'm gonna act out.  Whammo slammo!

2.  A certain resident who constantly seeks drugs/attention every 5-30 minutes.  I don't have permission to inject said patient with high doses of haldol  but jeez, every five freaking minutes when I'm trying to do cyclefill (replace all medication bingo cards in my med carts which takes concentration and verification of the 5 rights) last night and I'm not even the person who gives her her medications.  I know saying "Not my job" is a huge no-no in nursing, but dang EVERY five minutes!!!!

3.  Doctors who ignore my faxed requests for clarification of medication orders, lab orders for suspected UTIs, or simple acknowledgments.  I am only a nurse and I need a doctor's orders for certain things.

4.  The freaking door at work in which I slammed my fingers in last night during an attempt to keep previously mentioned patient out of my grill. (I know serves me right for trying to be focused and accurate.)

5.  Idiots who a)fly in and out of traffic because they're special and the laws don't apply to them and b)merge into traffic 10 miles below the speed limit.

I know I could come up with many more but I'm stopping now.  Who would you (metaphorically speaking) like to slap silly today?

Is It Wrong..

for me to think these young men look like children and much too young to be fighting for our country?

 McArmy and pals from his platoon at Basic

I cried when I saw this.  Will I ever be unafraid?

He's still my baby boy.

All photos taken by the Army at Fort Benning, Georgia 2/10/11.

Happy 20th Birthday My Beloved Son!!

This is the boy who stole my heart upon conception, throughout the 38+ weeks he wiggled in my womb, from the moment he burst into the world after 3 hours of labor and 3 pushes.  He was so very eager to be a part of our family he showed up 9 days early and about 30 seconds after the doctor entered the hospital room!

Thus began the life of McArmy.

 Here he is in the uniform of his favorite guys who rode in "firefrucks" also known as "Woo-woos".  He pointed out each and every firetruck we saw in a loud and proud voice.

 He's thrilled to have constructed his lego set (with a little help from his dad.)  His face says it all.

 This is one of my all time favorite photos as he peeked through his father's legs at the age of 13 months.

 Here he is playing peek-a-boo at the park and giggling up a storm as a toddler.

 Flying a kite at Ocean Shores and having one heck of a good time.

 Dancing with his Oma.  He adored dancing with me every time I put music on.  "Dance with me Mama! NOW!"

 He and his older brother being clever enough to slide down the staircase using the sleeping bag as a sled.

"Here Dad, let just add something to your toes..."

McArmy and his father at the beach, McArmy building a sand castle for me. 

"Yo Mom!  Check out my new sneaks!"

Home for Exodus looking almost all grown up.

I cannot quite describe the joy this young man has brought into my life for the past 20 years.  

I wish he were here and I miss him terribly.

Happy Birthday, my baby boy!  Happy Birthday!

I hope you enjoyed the 15 birthday cards I send you at Basic. I hoped you enjoyed the numerous push-ups they made you do for those cards.  Muahahahaha.

See you in just a few weeks.

I love you always and forever!

Just Feeling My Way through Life

January was difficult for me.

Between having a difficult transition after McArmy went back to basic, the terrible, horrible, no good grey weather, trouble sleeping, and the realities of my job I was getting mighty low.

I just kept telling myself push on through.

One day at a time.  I can get through one day at a time.

I pushed through my cursing the weather, the trucks, the job, the time of day every day I worked.  In my head the "f" word was the descriptive term I thought most often.

I called my shrink and got some sleep meeds to help me sleep more than four hours a night.  That really helped.

Five days into February and things are better.

I still detest waking up at 5:30 a.m. 3 days a week.  I still resent covering at work but it's my license at risk too.  The weather is still pretty grey.  I'm just looking at most things with a slightly better and or resigned attitude.

The facts are I need the work experience.  There are no other jobs.  Going to school to become a registered nurse will not help me at this time as there are NO jobs for inexperienced RNs in my area and I get paid as well as new RNs.

McArmy's in the army.  It's a done deal.  He's dealing better and I understand I have to cope with this as it comes.  I can't anticipate disaster.  It won't help me when he is deployed.  One day at a time.

I'm making the effort to exercise more.  I'm looking around for an elliptical or treadmill this weekend because I'm tired of waiting for better weather or finding the time.  I want to exercise in my home.  I am more than willing to fight the spouse on the short term cost here.  I know he thinks I won't use exercise equipment but I don't care.  I will use it.  I even have a place to put it where he won't have to look at it.  I deserve and need the stress relief of exercise.

While there are many things out of my control I am trying to control what I can~my outlook, my health, my sleep, my determination.

This is where I am.  Thanks for hanging in there with me.  Hugs.

Blessings Through Suffering

 Brennan April 1995

 McArmy May 1991

McSelfish 1989

I wanted to try and explain something after yesterday's post.

Though losing a child to death may be one of the most heart wrenching things to experience as a mother, I would never wish Brennan had not been a part of my life.

Though I do not quite understand why McArmy choose the Army and certain war, I would not change him.

Though McSelfish drives me insane at the age of 22, I will never stop loving him.

I cannot stop loving any of them.  No matter what.  

They were created by myself, McHub, and God.

They are perfect in the eyes of God.

I am not capable of the love the way God is, a complete agape love.  

I am human, therefore I have anger and judgement and petty annoyances.  My love does not falter through these emotions.

I was blessed to be able to feel these boys within me before birth.

I was blessed to give birth to each of them.

I was blessed to raise them to the best of my abilities.

In this world a mother has to let her children go, one way or another.  It's extremely difficult but it must be done.

The broken hearts, the tears, the agony, and the joy, the wonderful joy are well worth the suffering.  It's all part of life on earth.

Never pity me because I have had a richer life experience through these children and will continue to do so.  Yes, I will whine and have little pity parties now and then, even so it is all worth it!

February Second is Not About Groundhog Day to Me

This beautiful baby went to heaven 15 years ago today.

 McArmy at 2 years old.

 McArmy and Brennan at age 4 years and 3 months.

In one month I'll be in Georgia to watch this beautiful boy graduate from basic training.