All in an Evening's Work

This evening, I was responsible for fifteen patients. Between the hours of 3 pm and 1:15 am, I administered medications to each one of these patients.  I also took temperatures, blood pressures, pulses, counted respirations, and checked oxygen levels and blood sugars.  I gave two shots, gave two suppositories, did a treatment on someone's genitals, and put cream in a patient's rectum. I assessed wounds, lung sounds, and performed skin assessments.

An ambulance dropped of a patient in a wheel chair who was a new admission. I had not been told that I would be getting a new admission, and had no paper work.  This patient then became very agitated, and after an  hour or two, signed out AMA.

I had a patient with a temperature of 100.6 degrees. Even after medication administration, the temperature continued to rise. I had to use non-pharmaceutical treatments to "break the fever", and fought the temp all evening, only to have it increase again at 11 pm.

I replaced oxygen tanks, put oxygen on a patient,  and cleaned a concentrator. I made a total of five "callouts" to doctors. One doctor told me "to do what I wanted", and asked "Why can't you fix it?".

I sent a pt to the ER. I wrote orders, transcribed orders, discontinued orders, and carried out orders. I ordered labs and talked to the pharmacy twice. I called family members. I did medication education with both patients and family members. While one patient had a fever, I had another one yelling at me, and another patient refusing to sit down in the wheelchair.

I ate lunch while talking to a doctor and charting. I am a breast-feeding mom, and only had the chance to pump twice. I should have pumped at least three times, if not four, and even took a phone call while pumping.

I charted on six patients. I was punched, called names, and yelled at. I was hugged and kissed. I was exposed to MRSA. I held the hand of a dying man and cried. I argued with a nurse.

My shift was supposed to end at 11 pm. I did not clock out until 1:15 am, and I am still afraid that I forgot something. I came home to dishes in the sink, two loads of laundry to fold, baby toys scattered over the living room floor, and my two boys (husband and son) in bed.

Apples, Apples, Apples....

Apples, apples, apples….

The other Sunday we had over the Pastor and his wife for lunch after church. I made a simple meal of pot roast and noodles, green beans (for the boys), and lima beans (for the girls). I didn’t have anything planned for dessert, so while we were enjoying lunch, my mind was racing as to what I could serve. I quickly went through a list of ideas, (in my mind) most of which would take too long to make, or I didn’t have the right ingredients. I was beginning admit defeat when I remembered the very large pile of apples that I had brought back from PA just the weekend before. My mind was working fast. Apples, apples, apples… apple crisp, no, too much work. Apples, apples, apples… Apple pie? Way too much work! Apples, apples, apples… If I had only made that applesauce! Apples, apples, apple… hmm….apples and caramel dip? No caramel dip…. dip… Could I make a dip? Probably… what would I need? I quickly looked through a cookbook. Nothing. I got online. Found some recipes, got some ideas, and threw some stuff together, and yum! What a hit! (Well with everyone except Matt… but that is just typical Matt).  You know what the best thing about this dip is? It is actually pretty healthy! Who needs recipes anyway?

But for those of you who do… here it is!

Apple Dip

¼ cup natural peanut butter

¼ cup plain yogurt

1 or 2 tbs brown sugar

dash or two of pumpkin pie spice

4 large eating apples (I suggest Granny Smith, but they are really tart…  and some people are not a fan!)

Mix all of the ingredients, minus the apples in a small bowl with a spoon. Core and slice apples. Serve . Dip apples in dip. Eat. Chew. Swallow. Yum.   

Disgustingly Perfect!

Unlike my mom, I LOVE to decorate! I loved “setting up home” when Matthew and I got married, and I anxiously looked forward to holiday decorations- specially fall and Christmas. The first Christmas Matthew and I spent together as a married couple, I decided that I wanted to make all of my tree ornaments. (Even though I was working almost fulltime, and attending college fulltime). I got all of my big ideas from a Gooseberry book that my Gram had given me. My theme was snow. My tree was decorated with white lights, a snowflake garland, big snowflakes, little snowflakes, blue and cream colored mittens (which I had made), blue, white, and silver balls, and white cotton as snow. I found a snowman tree topper, and a snowman tree skirt. Believe it or not- all of the snowflake ornaments came from the dollar tree!

On Christmas day we hosted a brunch, and my entire family came down. It was later on in the day, after eating and opening gifts, my mom was just staring at my Christmas tree. With pride, adoration, envy, and dislike, she sighed and said: “Your tree is disgustingly perfect!” 

Fresh Cut Tree

One of my favorite childhood memories of Christmas was the family tradition of getting a tree. For as long as I can remember my family would go to a Christmas tree farm, pick out a tree and cut it down, for you can’t get any fresher then this! When I was a little girl we used to go to a local tree farm, just “down the road”, and get our “perfect” Christmas tree. You have to understand- getting this tree was quite the process. We first had to get my very slow moving father to agree that it was time to get a Christmas tree. Usually the chosen day would be a Saturday morning (because till dad got home from work during the week it would be dark), and we would then spend half of the morning gathering little snow boots, mittens and hats. Once we were layered in clothing, and bundled up to the point we could barely move, we would all pile in to my dad’s pickup truck, and drive the short distance to the Christmas tree farm. Here we would traipses up and down the hills, debate and argue over a trees, and listen to my mom complain about how cold it was. Usually after looking at about 100 trees, we would finally find tree on which the majority of the people (my family), agreed was “okay”. My dad would then cut down the tree, and then proceed to drag it either down the hill (if he was lucky), or up the hill,  (“sorry Dad, this is the perfect tree even though it is at the very bottom of the hill and on the edge of the tree farm property), and put it into the back of the truck. As our family got bigger, getting tree got more and more complicated. We were always so busy, it was hard to find a time that everyone would be able to go, and eventually we had to take two vehicles, because we just wouldn’t all fit in the truck. And of course the bigger the family, the more voices, which meant more opinions on which tree was “perfect”. But nonetheless, every year, like clockwork, going out and cutting down our Christmas tree was something we did.

Matthew, on the other hand never experienced cutting down a tree until he met me, and my family. Their Christmas tree was stored in a box, and gotten out every year, and decorated only by his mom, and they (the kids), were not allowed to touch it! Were as my family decorated the tree as family. The first Christmas Matthew and I spent together, Matthew joined my family in the “tree hunt”. From that time on, Matthew proclaimed that we would never get a fake tree.

I am sorry to say that this year Matthew and I broke tradition. This year, our first Christmas as a family of three, our Christmas tree came from HOME DEPOT! Do not fear, the tree is still real, but I cannot even begin to explain to you how disappointed I was! This year, time was just not in our favor, and Home Depot is only a short distance away, so Home Depot it was.

In the years to come, I hope that we can go back to cutting down our tree. I want to spend a Saturday morning looking for little mittens, snow boots and hats, and placing my children in so much warm clothing that they can barely move, just to walk up and down hills in search for the perfect Christmas tree. I want this to be my one of my children’s favorite memories as well.

This is the tree we picked. Matthan was so particular. 

and we are still red necks at heart..... this is how we transported our tree home! 

                                           and this is the tree decorated....