Girl Lives Life

Final Post

2010-09-21T23:06:00.000-07:00

It has come to my attention that there have been some readers out there in the silent shadows who have read, spread and been quite upset by things that I have written here. I realize my responsibility to post thoughtfully and accept the risk that comes with the interwebs. Sooooo, that said, this will be the last blog post. Thanks for that, awesome shadow readers! I will be starting up a new blog. If you enjoyed my blog and would like to know where I will be posting in the future send me a message and I will happily inform you of the new blog. I will state for the record that I never intended to hurt or offend. I was under the impression that the blog was at best obscure and likely highly unread. I am deeply sorry for the strain I have caused on my dear in-laws. That was NEVER my intention and I feel a little sick thinking about the mess my thoughtless venting has instigated. I continue to feel pissed about the things that occurred but I recognize that there are more appropriate locations to express these feelings. Best wishes
-Anna

When I am an Old Woman I will no longer worry...

2010-07-18T00:02:00.000-07:00

I am beginning to think that this is what I will look like by the time we make it to October. I am worrying myself old! And not in the good or wise or well earned old way. I am just becoming pessimistic and cranky. Just ask my husband!

I was doing really well with all of this stuff up until about yesterday. My patience had been wearing just a tad thin. I found myself happily playing along with the Hubbs' "Ahw babe I'm so tired give me ten more minutes" routine one second and twenty minutes later seething with resentment that I was trying to wake him AGAIN. I am finding myself at shorter and shorter ropes with nebulous time lines and ambiguous deadlines. This is certainly not the Hubbs' fault. Not all of it anyway. Yes, he could decide that my sanity is a teeny bit more of a priority and just suck it up and wake up when he says he's going to. I KNOW how exhausting the half sleep of duty is. Sorry babe but I don't care. I am out there doing it too and I feel it in my bones too. The shitty part is that there is no one to take up the slack for either of us when it comes to shit getting packed, sorted, cleaned. It is either you or it is me. Every day you say you are going to get up and get something done and then decide to sleep in feels like you are saying "Meh, it's not that important after all. Someone else will do it." It's like pouring gasoline on my already, nearly constantly smouldering fire of overwhelmedness and exhaustion. I know but cannot fully comprehend the stress of being the financial 'only' right now. I am sure it puts it's own gut knotting stress on top of the oh, so relaxing act of moving and wedding planning. I KNOW....the thing is that I am drowning. I see all of the shit that needs to be done and all of the shit that is past due. I am tired of being the one who is "on top" of everything, the one who makes sure that things keep rolling. I want help. UNCLE. As sweet as the little sis is I don't want her help I want HIS help. I want to be important enough to him to inspire him to overcome his aversion to taking part of the helm when things get shitty and confusing. I don't love that we have fallen into the habit of me being the only list maker and timeline writer. I want more partnership than that. I want him to get engaged in "making it happen". If he is reading this he is upset with me by now. He is thinking that I am being demanding and overbearing and that I don't get what it is like in his head at ALL! He's right. I don't. Partly because he doesn't tell me. I think he doesn't tell me because he doesn't want to worry me and he is right. It worries me to no end when he tells me all of the things he is afraid of and I am shitty at listening to it.

I think this is my "Wife Work" right now. Just what I needed right? More homework! But this is important shit right here. This is THE stuff our lives together depends upon me mastering. I need to listen without absorbing the awfulness of worry. I have enough worry for both of us and I can learn to just hear his concerns without internalizing it all. I am not entirely sure how I will do this but I think that's what the next fifty years are for. I hope it doesn't take all fifty.

Anyway, the other side of all of this is how well I have been doing. I made it well past a month before losing my shit and then really only lost it after getting the crap news that we no longer had a solid closing date. I feel more and more committed to my life with G and here in the city. I am feeling more and more excited about joining the ranks of the midnight superheros who stand watch so everyone might sleep. I am struggling more days than not right now. I mean really struggling. I miss my folks and I miss summers on the boats and everything seemed simpler. It is hard to keep my forward momentum in the relative moments of day to day. In spite of all of that I have a more absolute sense of peace on it's way. My dear friend S pointed out to me yesterday that I only have to survive 63 more days and then it is all done. I will look around and see my lovely little house, my diploma on the wall, the wedding flowers drying in the window and my warm, wonderful, infinitely supportive husband by my side. I will work hard right up to the end and I will get to look back and feel pride in my efforts and joy, knowing all of this bullshit and indigestion was worth it. In the mean time....I need to keep my mouth shut, practice taking deep cleansing breaths, work hard at interning, eat well, run often and further and further and kiss my Hubbs. We will work out the partnership divide when the dust settles and we can talk without such high risk of hurt feelings. We will take our notes from this war and craft a better battle plan for the next such challenge....Yesterday as I sat at the table crying into a box of packed up dry goods I begged for a promise...."Promise me we will never try to do everything all at once, ever again?!"...He said "Yes honey, next time someone is trying to finish school and we are having a housing transition I am sure we will only have one or two kids and you'll just be pregnant so, yeah, that will be way easier..." He has a point. While I hope to not repeat this cycle of intensity often if ever again, life does not slow down much from here on...at least not for a while. Not until my hair is the color of that woman's and my eyes as wise as hers....like I said, that is what the next fifty years are for.

Of First Tubes and Delayed Closings...

2010-07-16T18:05:00.000-07:00

The night started out just like every other night...diabetic refusal, drunk and disorderly at the mission. At 2300 we were posted way out east. I had just finished my chart from the drunk and was opening my napkin across my lap, about to enjoy some yummy salad the Hubbs had packed for me. Doot Doot Doot, "Engine 22, Medic 723 respond to a 1432 Sanderson road for PD reporting possible assault. Stage and await PD."
"Damnit! My salad looked so good!" I was pretty sure it was going to be BS but I packed up my lunch and put on my gloves and my eye protection. I even pulled out a set and built an IV lock. I taped a trauma band to the wall so that I would remember to give the number to MRH if it came to that. We drove over to the staging area (out of sight of the address given) and we waited. It wasn't 5 min before the radio chirped "Engine 22, Medic 723, you can clear. Non injury."
"Damnit! I knew it. Crap!"
We went back to our assigned street corner. My preceptor and his partner fell asleep. I played solitaire for a while before giving up and closing my eyes as well.
At 0415: "Doot Doot Doot! Engine 22, Medic 723 respond to 1432 Sanderson road for AS1" (this means someone has been assaulted or at least that is what dispatch is calling it). "Wait a second, isn't that?" "Yup". And we were off, lights blazing, sirens blaring.
We arrived to find the nastiest apartment. It was like some frat boys had moved in and locked the door behind themselves. There were holes in the drywall, dirt everywhere and cans of 4 Lokos in various states of consumption lined up along the sofa and the entertainment center. On the floor of the apartment was a young man. He was face down on a sofa cushion writhing around like a wild animal. He was flanked by his brother and a "friend". His brother was significantly older and appeared entirely sober. The same could not be said for the friend. The brother informed us that he had a seizure disorder and he took medicine for it. He said his friend had called when he had started seizing and he had rushed over. That was about eight minutes ago.
I was still half asleep but mesmerized by this creature writhing about on the floor intermittently drooling and thrashing about and then still, staring at us and demanding to know what was happening. Before long we were in the back of the ambulance (here after referred to as "the car" for you non-EMS type). Once in the back he was seat belted to the stretcher and I set to work obtaining vital signs. I got a manual BP and heart rate as my preceptor turned on the monitor. I was attempting to take a respiratory rate when it dawned on my sleep fogged brain that he wasn't breathing. "Ed, he's, uhh, not breathing...." I trailed off. Instinctively I took my pen and squished on his finger to elicit a pain response as I shouted his name in his ear. "Jake! Jake! You need to breath! Jake! Wake Up Dude! You need to BREA..." "GASP!" He tried to sit up and began thrashing around. "Where's my girlfriend?! What the hell?!" He was "awake" but he was staring right through me. He started wringing his hands together and staring at them in a trance. *Meth? or just the Lokos?* I wondered to myself. Nobody said anything about meth...Not that that means a damn thing.... As I was pondering all of this I was hooking him up to the monitor and putting on the end tidal CO2 monitor. This lets us know A. Is he breathing? B. Is he exchanging oxygen and CO2 properly? I hit print on the monitor as I pulled my pre-made lock off the wall and started an IV. "Guess I get to use this on you after all." I said under my breath. I pulled the strip from the monitor and looked at his wave form (this is the tracing that tells us how well his breathing is working and how regular it is) it was ALL jacked up. There were a few breaths and then nothing. I thought about checking the connection at the monitor but instinct made me turn my head and put my hand on Jake's chest. He wasn't breathing. AGAIN. I shouted and squished his finger. I rubbed my knuckles on his sternum. Nothing. I looked to Ed who was getting out the leads for the ECG and I said "He's not breathing." It was almost like Jake heard me because again, he roared to life. This time making less sense and becoming increasingly wild in his movements. "He's not going to tolerate a non-re-breather mask" I said out loud. "Let's just get to the hospital" Ed said to his partner who was at the wheel. We fired up and as we pulled onto the road Ed looked at me. "He's your patient. Do you RSI him?"

RSI means Rapid Sequence Intubation. It is when you decide that someone is no longer able to control and protect their own airway and you need to control and protect it for them by paralyzing and sedating them with drugs, placing a plastic tube in their trachea, inflating a balloon to prevent anything else from getting into their trachea and then breathing for them with a bag filled with oxygen. RSI is a privilege and a HUGE responsibility. There are many states who do not allow their medics to RSI patients no matter how sick or unstable. It is a highly controversial topic in EMS right now. However, it is the gold standard of care for securing and protecting a patient's airway. Rescue airways like the king or the LMA do not secure the airway if the patient vomits. This puts the patient at very high risk for aspiration pneumonia...the reasons I am a fan of RSI go on and on and the research indicating both its strengths and liabilities are the topic for another post.

"How far out are we?" I ask, my voice catching just a bit. "How far to the hospital man?" Ed asks the partner. "Ehh 5min" he says. Ed looked out the window. "Hmmm. I don't think so. I think we are further out than that. What do you want to do?" I froze for half a second. "He's getting worse. He is spending less and less time breathing and more time apneic. He isn't coming around if this is post-ictal. If he's been drinking he's gonna puke. He's not going to tolerate a non-re-breather. I want to take over for him. Let's RSI him." "Ok" says Ed. "Hey partner, call fire back, pull over and join us. We need to tube this dude."

I jumped into the airway seat and began setting up my stuff as Ed began sorting out the drugs. Partner joined us and attempted to place a mask on his face for a little added 02. He woke up and began thrashing around and wringing his hands. He tried to sit up and appeared to be seeing things that none of us were seeing. *This kid is tweaked out of his mind* I thought to myself. I thought through my airway algorithm as I pulled out tubes and checked balloons. I turned on the suction machine and flipped on all of the lights.
"Etomidate is in.....Versed is in..... Succs is in.....30 more seconds....10..9..8......Ok, go time"

I placed my hand on his head and tilted it back, I opened his mouth and placed the blade in his mouth sweeping his tongue to the side. I looked and all I could see was pink and secretions. I held the blade with my left hand and reached for the suction on the wall to my right. I suctioned and repositioned. I hit the release mechanism to lower the head of the gurney with my knee and it crashed down onto my lap. *SHIT!* "Cric pressure please!" *Oh Damn! There they are!*. "I am visualizing the cords. I am passing the tube through the cords. I am in. Bag please." The partner placed the bag on the end of the tube as I withdrew the stylet. I had a death grip on the tube with my left hand as I fumbled to place my stethoscope in my ears with my right. I listened over the epigastrum and then over the lungs. It was so loud in the back of the car with the suction pumping away next to my head but I KNOW what tube in gut sounds like and there was none of that. I bagged him a few times and as the tape was being secured I could feel his mouth working away at the tube and my fingers. "Guys, he's waking up. We need some more sedation on board". Just then the fire medic arrived and the partner jumped out and back into the driver's seat. We were on our way. Jake was starting to writhe on the gurney again and Ed handed the fire medic the Midazolam. It felt like an eternity passed as he drew up and double checked the dose. Finally, Jake relaxed again. I was able to bag him easily again without the disturbing feeling of trying to compete with his own respiratory drive. It felt like days later, we arrived at the hospital. We piled out of the car just as Jake began waking up again. "Shit! He is just burning through this versed guys" I pointed out. It had only been about 7min since the last dose. We rolled into the brightly lit room and the Doc and the respiratory therapist were waiting for us with arms folded. "Good morning" I said. "This is Jake. Jake was at home partying with some friends tonight and we are not clear what happened but Jake had a seizure. Jake has a seizure disorder for which he takes Dilantin. His family and friend say he takes his meds as prescribed and he has not missed any doses. His buddy says he smoked some weed tonight. We arrived to find Jake apparently post-ictal on the floor. Initially he was making some sense and interacting with us. As we loaded him in the car he began making less sense and began experiencing longer and longer periods of apnea interspersed with periods of violent disorientation. We elected to intubate him. Vital signs have remained steady. He has a 8.5 tube, 27 inches at the teeth and when he is properly sedated he is easy to ventilate. He is currently waking up and starting to buck the tube." As if on cue, Jake reached his hand up towards my hand on the tube.
The doc called for more sedation and the RT offered to take over my spot at the airway. I happily relinquished the responsibility and kept watching what he did as I helped the nurse hold Jake down until the Midazolam took effect. "Let's get this young man to the CT scanner. I want to look at his brain and we only have about 10 min before he needs more sedation" the doctor said. As I was gathering up the wires and cords that were spilled all over the floor the doc looked at me. "Is that your tube?" "Yes" I said. "Nice big one. Good work." I blushed. "Thanks" I said, "It was my first one".
Fifteen minutes later Jake was back from the scanner and being tended to in his room by a troop of nurses and the RT. Labs were being drawn, x-rays shot and the tube backed out a little from it's placement in his right mainstem. I went to the bathroom and slumped to the floor. "No fucking way..." I said to myself as my eyes filled with tears. "No fucking way..." Somehow the gravity of what had just happened hit me all at once and there I was teared up on the ED bathroom floor. Adrenalin was rushing through me. My hands were trembling uncontrollably and I thought I was going to be sick. I took a few deep breaths and started to feel it all. *I helped that boy. I helped him breathe. I just did right by that kid. I DID it*. As Ed bragged me up to everyone on the computer. "She got in there an placed it on the first try. Did it like a rock star."

I have arrived on the doorstep of my education. I am ready to learn now because NOW I understand that this job is about 95% no big deal, diabetic refusals, drunk tank brawls. But it is the 5% that makes it life and death. The 5% that makes all the difference. I understand what it means to have a young man's life in my hands. It is huge. It is a terrifying honor. I am ready to learn how to serve my patent's best interest in the 5%.

As if that were not enough for one week The Hubbs and I found out today that the sewer guy "needs more time" and thus we will not be closing on the first of the week after all. I don't know what that means. I don't know when we will close or when we will move. I cancelled the moving van today and then cried. I cried for the unsatisfactory nature of it all. I cried for wanting it to be over. I cried for wanting my mom. I cried out of exhaustion and exasperation. This week has been wonderful and awful all in one. I think I will lace up my sneakers tonight and take myself for a nice long run. The breeze is cool and the sun has gone down for the day. I won't sleep anyway so I might as well get some endorphins cranked up. Tomorrow's another day, I'm thirsty anyway, bring on the rain.....

The all you can eat (way more than you want) buffett of life

2010-07-10T10:33:00.000-07:00

Name that city.....

If you said Denver Colorado you'd be right! Now why, you may ask, have I posted a picture of Denver? Well its a math problem. I sat down yesterday to figure out when I would be done with my internship hours and thus, when I could take my national registry exam and to my horror I will be taking it to the last few weeks before the wedding. If I manage to get all of my calls in I could be done before September 5th. This means that sometime before Sept 5th I will be able to take my director's oral where I sit down with my medical director and he tests me on drugs and patient care and likely a few critical scenarios. Once that is done I get to go to the testing center and take my computer based written exam. As soon as THAT is done I can take my practical. This is the exam where you suspend common sense and logic and show the NREMT that you know how to read and memorize their often ass backwards way of doing something. It has very little correlation to how things are done on scene, in the back of the car or at the hospital but whatever, they write the test and I have to pass it to become a medic so I will learn to walk on water if they want me to.

You're still wondering what the hell this all has to do with Denver. Well, here it is. There are only so many practical exams offered every year. They are offered all over the nation. Oregon is in the fall. The late fall. I don't have time to wait until the late fall to try to get a job or to let the information atrophy in my mind. California is a favorite. Folks find a car pool buddy and a cheep hotel and hop on down to Cali to test all the time. Maine even has one in Bangor. I could shuck out the 5oo.00 to fly home and then there is no rental car, no hotel, just hanging out with my mom. The problem is the date of the test. California is all at the end of August and likely, before I will be done with everything. Maine is on graduation weekend and I can't really miss my own graduation. So, Colorado is testing in the beginning of September. They are testing 5 days before the wedding. FUUUUUUUHHHHHHCK! It appears to be my best and really only option. The flight is pretty cheep, I found a cheep hotel and a decent rental car. All together with the testing fee it would be somewhere in the 800.00 range. That beats the pants off of the 1200.00 range for California.

The Hubbs and I have done a lot of talking about the wisdom of testing 5 days before the wedding and it is what it is. In the grand scheme, I need a job. The wedding will be wonderful and I will learn to let go. I have worked too hard and too long to not take 100% crystal clear focus to my exam. I will just have to deal with the rest when I get home. I think my mother is going to want to kill me but it is what it is. It is time to test and time to apply for a job.

G was helping me talk through the logic and look critically at the options last night and he said, "I just want to make sure its not too much all at once." I laughed out loud. "Of course its too much!" I said. "This whole thing is too much. Trying to plan a wedding while in school is too much. Doing it while trying to buy a house is too much. Trying to move, pull off a wedding, intern and prep for the exam is ALL too much. THIS WHOLE COURT IS OUT OF ORDER!". We had a good laugh and he said "You're right this is insane. I just want you to have your head wrapped around it the best you can so that you have the best shot possible". Ladies and gentlemen, my husband. The very best guy you could ever hope to have at your side in a shit storm. I think I'll keep him.

Update from beyond the boxes...

2010-07-09T14:46:00.000-07:00

So...It is HOT here! Like really damn hot. I was out running errands yesterday and as I was standing talking to the frame shop guy I realized that the backs of my legs were sweating. Not the knee crooks but the actual backs of my legs were generating their own rivulets of sweat. Yuck! I am not a girl who digs the heat. Frankly, I am too well padded. That said, I hate hate hate air conditioning. I would rather be sweating it out then trapped in the "oh my god don't open the door or pull up the blind for fear of letting out the manufactured odd smelling air!" I just feel claustrophobic with the air on. Anyway, I am rambling.

The house: The sellers agreed to our inspection addendum and will be shelling out about 7k to fix the radon problem and the sewer line issue. In fact, they should be starting and finishing next week. I was quite pleased to hear that they got a better bid on the sewer and it will only be 5k instead of the 7k quoted earlier. The radon problem will still be spendy at 2k. Anyway, as I had always said, I didn't want them to suffer hardship on our behalf but as my realtor reminded me...that's the way it goes sometimes. That's the biz. Now all we are waiting for is the appraisal from the bank and the final approval from the loan underwriters and then closing 11 days! Cross your fingers for us! There are a zillion little ways that this could all go to shit but I am doing my damnedest not to focus on those things. If all goes well, by this time next week I will be totally done with the packing and onto cleaning projects. It will be hard with the dogs but I think I can start chasing cobwebs in corners and wiping down window sills and what not. We hired the carpet cleaners for the 28th and for all the carpet it was only $198. I was pleasantly surprised.

The Hubbs and I have been purging shit like we are on the Titanic and someone told us it was a weight problem. We are in the everything must go mode and I couldn't be happier about it. I am one of the biggest recovering pack rats you will ever meet. If you asked my folks they could tell you stories about me hoarding Popsicle boxes and scraps of paper. I have a vague recollection of thinking that they had feelings and that their feelings would be hurt if I threw them out. Well, moving across the country in the back of the Ford Ranger was the first wave of change for my pack rat mentality. I realized what a phenominal pain in the ass moving was and vowed to never acquire that much crap again. Oh how soon we forget. I had way too much shit when The Hubbs and I moved in together and worse yet, I had to pack up and move all of that in the middle of a total freak Christmas snow storm. The Hubbs has a TON of crap. When we first started dating he was in the process of moving. I helped him pack up and move out of his apartment which honestly should have frightened me off. It was one of the nastiest apartments I had ever seen. You couldn't even SEE the sink let alone the counters. I still don't know what kind of surface the kitchen floor was. It was 6 months away from a trail house. To be fair, he wasn't alone in that apartment. There was one steady roommate and a rotating cast of characters who would come, stay, trash and leave. Anywhooo...it was nasty. The next house was better but still too big and nobody really cared if the toilet talked to you or if the counter was covered in the remains of the last weeks worth of meals. By the time we were moving in together I was just so happy to be in a space that would be ours that I let him pack up and bring anything. BAD plan sister! He had six boxes of random bits of half broken shit. Paper clips and push pins mixed in with a storm whistle and an old tape of something....we don't even have a way to play tapes! Needless to say I had grand aspirations for the next move. The next move happened altogether faster than anyone in their right mind would have planed. We got the letter ten days before Thanksgiving. We had 5 weeks to be out but those were the weeks between Turkey and Ham and in between there were finals and a half marathon in Seattle! FFFFFFFF! No problem! SIL and I set on it like fruit flies to fresh peaches. We had a new house picked out and in process the next day. Four days later the house was packed up and the moving truck was in the driveway. Six days from the day we got the letter we were out and settling in to the new house. We had intended to stay here a while....we were happy with the stuff we had. It was no awesome but it was totally good enough for now. Once we were done with school and ready to settle in to a house that was truly ours we would worry about having the stuff we really wanted. Hell we were so happy with our current station that we weren't even going to register for stuff for the wedding. We wanted to take a medical relief trip. Well, getting that last letter changed things.

We are now registering for stuff. We have begun flushing out the stuff that we don't love adopting the philosophy of "we would rather have a space that we intend to fill with just the right thing than have things that aren't just what we want". It is liberating. It is significantly harder for my pack rat hubbs as he is just now beginning recovery and has backslides regularly. The most recent example is the pile of old, weird, wool, army clothes in the garage. Some how he has convinced himself that in spite of having some the best outdoor gear available, in our closets, if there is "a winter earthquake or natural disaster" he will wear these moth bitten, itchy, 40lb wool pants instead of his waterproof, lightweight snow pants (he has 4 pair). I don't quite understand this and I have begun referring to this behavior as "Zombie Apocalypse Syndrome". It goes like this, the stereotypical little girl has spent a significant portion of her life thinking about her wedding day or having her own family some day. We have plans for the future in our little pink lacy minds. The stereotypical boy on the other hand, has spent a large portion of his life planning for the day when all hell, literally, breaks loose and the great zombie world war or some other unlikely event will take place. They too have plans in their little lug soled, camo print brains. My theory is that the Hubbs is manifesting some of this in his insistence upon packing these tatty old clothes that would be waaaaay better served passed out at the rescue mission down town. I don't get it....Some things are not mine to get though so I permit a great deal more of it than I might think reasonable.

Well, this has been a very long post leading up to the following....

The one thing that I have really really really been looking forward to is a new table. I want a big old farm table. One where you can expand it out to fit all of your friends at a potluck or game night. One where you can stick some benches on either side and pile the kids up next to one another. I feel like the real start of a family is the kitchen table. Here is the one G and I have picked out. We are going to get it once we get all the shit into the new house. It is my major motivator to donate the old crap. It seats 6 as shown but has 2 leaves so it can also seat 8 or 10. I can't wait. I know its silly but it is starting to feel real. I took my Nikki McClure prints to the frame shop and we have picked out the dining room table...hell, someone has already been shopping on the registry and bought us the toaster oven we sooooo wanted. I think we are going to have a lovely little house. Now I just have to get back to the packing....boo.

Tachycardia

2010-06-30T15:32:00.000-07:00

We are 79 days from wedding day and I must admit I have a lot of mixed emotions. I am very excited to celebrate my partnership to G in front of our family and friends. I can't wait to wear my dress. I can't wait to see our friends from far and wide as well as those who live right down the street. I CANNOT wait to see my brother and my parents. However, had we known we would be buying a house and all of this nonsense mere weeks before the wedding I think we likely would have opted for a wedding in G's folks backyard followed by a camping trip to the coast or something like that with our buddies. And, with guilt in my heart I must admit that right now that sounds like a lot less work.

The truth is that I feel married to the Hubbs. I feel like we have forged the first of our bonds in the fire of this past year. It sounds all cliche' but it has been a hell of a year. We have moved in 4 days and lost another house, we have (very much together) put me through a fast paced year of medic school and done it all on less than 2 full paychecks. We have dealt with lots of challenges and come out (as I see it) on top every time. We are like a cat who seems to land on its feet.

Wedding wedding wedding....It all seemed like such a good idea at the time. We were happy where we are and with all of the things we had. We have asked for money to help send us on a trip to Africa with Project Helping Hands as "honeymoon mission". NOW we are looking at all the stuff we need for this new house. I am not talking about candle sticks and crock pots or fancy linens and crystal. No, I am talking about a door that fits the back doorway properly, a deep freeze for the basement so we can buy locally raised antibiotic and hormone free meat in bulk and at a budget saving cost, shelving for the basement. I am talking about frames for the artwork we have recently acquired so that we don't start in this house with the same college kid feel as our houses before. It is all very materialistic but they are things that would make starting out in this house so wonderful. Anyway, that is where I stand in my poverty mind swirling with wants and "needs".

I must give a thank you to the mother in law, without whom I would have significantly more anxiety about just about everything from school loans to commitment. I will preface this by saying that my mom is one of my very best friends and she is number one in my book of bad ass, smart, wonderful women. That said, the mom2 is a total gift in my life. She is a friend in the same time zone when I need one. She is a total insomniac so she is my late night life line occasionally. She has a wicked sense of humor and she seems to "get" me. She certainly loves her son but on some fundamental level I think she must see something of herself in me. She seems to get the person I am trying to become as well as the person I am right now. She seems to understand that occasionally I need to share difficult things and I just need an ear not a remedy and I don't want to worry my mom so far away. Also, she is married. She has been married to the same wonderful, funny and stubborn man for over 30 years and shows no sign of changing that. My parents were married for 32 years and for 95% of that time I saw a happy, compatible partnership. My parents did not fight, nor did they speak disparagingly of one another ever. I had a true friendship as my model for what a partnership should look like. My parents divorced and I think I have said before that I think it has all shaken out for the best. I think they are more truly themselves now and I am happy and proud of them both in their own ways. I think I win twice because I saw a healthy marriage model as a child and then saw two people self actuate as "grown-ups". That said, my mother is no longer married to a man and there is "stuff" around all of that. This makes her not the absolute best person to talk about weathering the storms of a life long marriage. Not for lack of wanting to be that person....she just has some opinions now that I can't totally access on this end (the new end) of a partnership and adult life. It does make her a very open person to talk to about shedding the weight of the "musts" and "shoulds" and for that I can't begin to thank her. Anyway, the mom2 and I see eye to eye on so many things and that brings such a light to my heart I am tearing up now as I write about it. Talking to her today was really great.

Internship:

Wow! First let me say that I haven't even done anything cool yet but I LOVE being on the ambulance and running calls! I am starting to get pretty good at starting IVs in the back as we trundle down the road at a bumpy 40-60mph. I have spent the last two weeks running generic rather crap calls. We had 2 trauma entries but nothing even all that grand about either of them. The take home message is DON'T DRINK AND DRIVE MORONS!! Next week I will be working with a medic who is known to be intense and a little "particular" about the way things are done. Ed, my preceptor now, is a pretty laid back guy. He is a good teacher and since we haven't seen anyone who requires ANY sort of medical knowledge to care for it has been a little hard for him to challenge me. R.C will challenge me no matter what. I have already started reviewing protocols and medication doses so I can be ready to be "pimped" (put on the spot with questions).

There is something cool about riding around all night keeping watch on the city. It feels a little like a band of secret superheros. I know that sounds super geeky but I can't help it. No one thinks about it but at any time of day or night there is an ambulance not more than about 8mins away from where you are ready to help you if you get ill or hurt. We will come to your house, check your diabetic husband's sugar and put a line in, give him an amp of dextrose, wait until he is conscious again and making sense, then we will make him a turkey sandwich or maybe PB&J, check his sugar again and when we are satisfied that everything is OK, we will pack up our stuff, shake your hand, pat your husband on the back and tell him to finish the whole sandwich before going back to sleep, and we will leave....back out into the predawn darkness....back to our street corner. It is not a glamorous world. It is full of dirty corners and dirtier houses. It is full of people who want to hurt one another or themselves. It is full of sickness and death and bullshit. But it is a noble profession. I never would have thought I would be joining the ranks of these superheroes but here I am. They won't give me my own cape or even a good superhero name for a few more months but I am here, learning. Helping the watch standers and watching over the city.

So that is about the gist of things right now. I have been writing to my best friend who shall be henceforth known as "the captain". I have been trying to put together weekly house/wedding/school updates for her. It has been helpful for my processing. I find sometimes (like today) I just feel totally socked in by worry. I worry about everything but mostly money. I hate not getting a paycheck right now. I hate having to rely to heavily on the Mr. Its not really my style. However, it is my reality. I suppose I shall just keep my snoot down as the Mr likes to say, and work hard, try not to kill anyone and get the house packed up. That is the best I can do so off I go....

And The World Spins Madly On....

2010-06-24T09:42:00.000-07:00

The Hubbs and I escaped to the woods a little over a week ago for a little camping trip with friends before my internship started. We packed (waaaaaaay too much shit into) the Jeep and tossed the dogs in on top and headed out of the rainy blah on this side of the mountains, to the sunshine and PERFECT weather on the other side. We spent the first night setting up camp and gathering wood and oh yeah, seeing a black bear and cub trying to cross the street! Eeep! It was a sight I won't soon forget. The momma came lumbering down out of the woods and saw us, turned tail and headed back up the embankment. Seconds later a 5oish lb cub comes tumbling down into the road, sees us, sees that his momma is already splitting in the other direction and follows her. G and I looked at each other and were dumb struck. "Duuhh, I thought you said there were no bear out here?". "Duuuh, I didn't think there were any." Thank you Steve Irwin!

We had a wonderful time with our friends G and C. They are recently engaged and planning a wedding for fall 2011. C is my kind of girlfriend. She is a little off beat and has a sly sense of humor. She and I fall just about equally on the apathy control freak scale of wedding planning which for me lately, has been just apathetic of center. Anyway, we both fret (very small scale) about things like our dresses and the food. She too is going the simple inexpensive dress route but still, like me wishes on some level to feel more beautiful than on any day of her life so far. I feel that! I am not even squeamish about it anymore. I love G and I am pumped to marry him! I want to look smokin' hot! Or AT LEAST feel really, really pretty.

On Thursday, G and I ran around the lake we were camped by (13 miles of trails!). It was a fun and staggeringly beautiful run. My shins couldn't even complain with the soft spongy trail beneath my feet. We took the young dog who did a great job on and off leash in the woods. I love taking her to the woods to run. It just makes her so happy.

On Friday, our other friends showed up expanding our merry little camp to 5 people and 3 dogs. It took a little time for the freak dogs to all settle down but soon it was a peaceable kingdom and the people were roasting sausages and drinking beer. It was so much fun. The next day I went for an accidental 9 mile run. I miscalculated my distances and my planned 6miler turned into a 9 miler. I did it. I just wondered why I was so dammed hungry. :)

The next few days were filled with failed attempts to fish, canoeing adventures, hikes to lost lakes, watching the dogs tear around by the shore some swimming and others doing everything in their power to "get" the other dog without having to get more than ankle deep. Every night was the same....The old dog would lay down on her bed facing the road on guard duty, the young dog would get very cold and end up either zipped into my jacket on her bed like a sleeping bag, or under a pile of towels and blankets like a living laundry pile. It was stinkin' cute.

On Monday everyone was packing up when The Hubbs received a text from his sis who requested he call as soon as he could. Lilsis does not generally call or text while we are away as she is freakishly respectful of our time together. (I know I said "freakishly" but I mean it in the most awestruck "nobody is as respectful of our time together as she is and we absolutely adore her for it" way). Needless to say he called her back as soon as he got the text. She informed us that we were going to have to move. AGAIN! Because our house was going to be put on the market. I say again, because we have only been in this house since November. We moved because the woman who owned our last place decided to move into it. We have not been here that long but I had imagined we would be here for a long time. I don't know why. We only signed a 9 month lease because she didn't want to end up with an empty house in the winter again...I just didn't think that it would mean we would have to move in the summer.

Anyway, I was mere nanoseconds from freaking out and spontaneously combusting when it occurred to me that I had a choice. I could freak out and cry and be generally miserable for an as yet to be determined period of time, or I could just chill my shit for five seconds, take some deep breaths, admit to myself that the last thing in the WORLD I wanted to do right now was find a new place to live, pack up all of our shit again and settle into a new house, and then I could realize how stressful this was going to be for my partner and best friend and I could rally a positive outlook and start brainstorming ways that this could be OK and good even. I could be a positive force and not just momentum. I could help him feel heard and seen and understood. I could do less freaking out and needing and more standing behind and supporting. Less MY way and more OUR way.

I am under no illusions that I am an easy woman to be married to. I am especially aware that this year sort of blows in sense that while we are trying to plan a wedding, settle into married life, and continue getting to know one another I went to paramedic school. I have been a giant money hole this year. I have been a huge financial burden and he has not said one word about it. He doesn't bitch or complain or point out that he is the money of this operation. He just holds up his end of the deal. ALL OF THE TIME! He does it so well and with no hint of resentment of the imbalance that I feel so strongly having never been the dependant in a relationship before. Anyway, I felt like the least I could do now would be to make a real effort to be an emotionally stable and even giving and supportive influence. I wanted to put his soul and heart in the black instead of the red this time.

We drove home from the mountains that afternoon, scrapping our plans for the second half of our vacation which included a trip to Bend and the High Desert Museum and a dinner date with a dear friend who just graduated from university. We felt like we had been punched in the gut. My wheels were spinning. Was there some way, any way that we could pool collective resources and *whispers* buy a house? That way, we would NEVER find ourselves in this shitty place again. We would never be at someone else's whim for a place to live. We could stop lighting hundreds of dollars on fire every month. The place would be ours to paint, ours to decorate, ours to repair and remodel. It would be OURS. The question remained...how would we put this all together? Could we do all of this in about 45 days? The wedding was in 90 days and we had a lot of people planning on staying with us for parts of the wedding weeks. I was also starting my internship (the work I am PAYING to do) 7p-7a four on four off for the next few months. What a cluster F%$#!

We called our moms. Yay moms! Over the next 4 hours (no joke people! 4 hours and these folks had it figured out!) Our families (all 3 of them) had lent support in various ways to make it possible for us to call a real estate agent and set up an appointment to look at houses two days later. And BAM! Just like that we were on our way to home owning.

Over the next few days we looked at a LOT of houses ourselves. We drove around peering in windows like a couple of perverts. We wrote down MLS numbers and emailed links to the parents. We wrote things of and underlined must-haves. When we finally met with Gail (the most amazing woman ever!) we had 7 houses to look at. This one was small, that one was a dump, this one had a horrible smell, that one a wet basement, this one was too much money, that one just wasn't "us". And then we stopped at Commercial St. A sweet little craftsman bungalow with a finished upstairs, a dry basement, a chicken coop and hardwood floors. (Sorry no pictures until it is ours for good. I am just superstitious) It was lovely and perfect and I wanted to move into it right now. I even like the color of paint on the walls. G agreed and so did Lilsis. We loved it. Gail told us to go home and talk about the houses we saw that day and to sleep on it.

We went home and decided to meet a buddy for a happy hour beer. A little while later we called Gail and asked to make an offer the next day. It was too good to pass up. It was in our price range, it was in our neighborhood area of choice, it was cute as shit! She agreed to meet us the next day to sign offer papers. We got drunk. I think there was even a shot of tequila from our buddy.

We met Gail at the house the next day and toured it and then another house in the same price range. The second house looked like the set of a horror movie. It smelled, it had frightening siding, the trim and floors were a total mess, there was tile and carpet in one of the upstairs bedrooms and the basement was horrifying. I wanted to cry. "OK, Uncle! We will make a competitive offer! The house is a good value! I can't see anymore!" Gail laughed at me. We signed the offer and she turned it in.

They countered and we countered their offer. We agreed on an offer that weekend, 5 days after receiving the letter from our current landlord. Two days later we met the inspector who found nothing majorly wrong with the house. Tomorrow the sewer will be scoped and the radon testing will happen. We will be back to negotiations by Monday or Tuesday. We want them to put in a new back door (one the mice can't get in through) and secure the electrical wires to the house. Minor things really. Fingers are crossed that the sewer doesn't have roots in it!

The Hubbs struggled a little getting in gear with all of this but as of today we have thrown out and recycled about three bins of shit we moved and never unpacked the FIRST time we moved together. We were packing and talking last night and he brought up something really interesting. As a culture, we associate much of our identity with place. Who we are is very closely linked to where we are from and where we live. Moving is a very unnerving process and lends itself to clinging behavior. Especially in our unattached youth. When you are leaving your parents or packing up at the end of university, you hold dear to every stuffed animal and ticket stub from every concert you saw with your buddies as a way to cement that you have a place. A way to be solid in such a groundless time as moving. Even as G and I moved into this house, there was so much uncertainty. It was mostly good but it wasn't any less unsettling to find ourselves moving. This time, the potential is so thick you can cut it with a knife. This will be the house we bring our family home to. Hopefully, this will be the house where they are born. It may also be the house they first come home to though and that is good too. I have the baby bug pretty bad right now and so that is largely how I project my future. I see myself making PB&J sandwiches at the kitchen counter and listening to G reading to our small people on the sofa in the living room. I picture us collecting eggs from our chickens in the backyard and planting veggies in the side yard. I see my life unfolding in that house. Because of all of that potential somehow I am ready to shake loose some of the clutter of my life up to now. I want to throw out those boxes of random shit. I want to send all of those clothes I haven't worn in forever to Goodwill. I want to streamline. I want to prune and make room for the new. It all seems very exciting to be "making ready" for our lives together in this way. Even if the small people don't arrive the way I dream or at all for some time. The house seems like the beginning of something new and wonderful. I need space for it to bloom.

Well, that is just about all the news fit to print. It may or may not be obvious that there are a few upcoming posts. Internship is awesome! I can't wait to start my memoirs of a baby medic. We had our "engagement" photos this week. As if we needed one more thing to worry about! It turned out to be a real blessing. It felt like the cap of a monumental week. It was nice even, to have someone telling me to smooch on The Hubbs. I also need to post about how much my mom rocks. She has just been a shooting star this week. I don't know what I would have done without her. Our moms are a pretty rad pair actually. G's mom is one of my favorite women in the whole world. I can't believe I scored so hard in the mother-in-law department.

Well, I have been running! I am running a half marathon on the 4th of July and I am feeling pretty darn optimistic! I think I am going to win this one! Haha! No really, I have done many more high mileage runs in prep for this run and I think it is going to be more fun than any of the other halves I have done in the last 2 years. I am excited. My body continues to change though not so much on the scale these days. I could eat less cheese and it is about time to go there in the final push for the wedding. However, I am happily trotting along eating what is good for me 80% of the time and getting lots of exercise. Life is crazy but life is good. I will keep posting as things keep unfolding.

Goodbye Old Friend

2010-05-31T11:59:00.000-07:00

I went home to Maine this last week. The plan was to go celebrate my besty's graduation from Medical School (I think that deserved capital letters) and to visit my Mother. This trip was nothing like I anticipated when I bought the ticket a month ago. In fact, it became a perfect example of why we should not "plan" or write stories in our heads about what will happen or what the future will be like. That's not to say I don't plan ahead or think about future goals. On the contrary! I am a planning FOOL! What I am talking about is the planning we do when we say "Oh, it will be like this or like that. So and so will behave this way or it will feel like X when I see him or her". That sort of planning is what I have learned to call mental television. It is generally NOT how things end up going and I don't know about you all but I very often end up disappointed that things did not go the way I thought they would or should. As it pertains to this trip back East, I didn't think I would spend the time I did at my Mom's. I also didn't think we would be putting down the very best dog who ever lived. Cede has been my dog since I was about 10. She was my family dog, then she was MY dog as I moved into my first apartment. She was my constant companion. I would throw her in the truck and take her everywhere with me. She was a babysitter with Milo, she was a boat yard dog up in Rockland, she was a study buddy and a snuggle pal on cold, windy nights when the wind shook my rickety third floor apartment way up on Munjoy Hill. I remember nights when I would wake up startled by something and look bleary eyed into the shadows on the sofa in the other room only to create some axe murderer in my mind, sitting on the sofa, waiting for me to fall back to sleep. I would feel my heart pounding (ridiculously) in my chest and I would look over to the dog, asleep on the pillow next to me. Seeing that she sensed no danger and had not awoken to the same imagined horror that I had calmed me. I would stroke her silly ears until I fell back asleep.
Cede was smart and gentle with everyone. She was trained to walk next to me off leash on our morning romps along the Eastern Prom. She lived to be told that she was a good girl. She was also beautiful. She was a "white"Lab. Not a yellow or a blond lab but white. From birth to death she was the whitest lab with a black nose and black eyeliner on. She was stunning even in her gimpy old age.
I left Cede with my Mother when I moved out here because she had become ill and we were all sure that she wasn't long for the world and afraid that she might become acutely ill or even die if she were trucked across the country in a pick-up with no air conditioning in the middle of the summer. That was three years ago next week. She was taken VERY good care of by my Mother and her partner. My Dad was still living in town for most of the last three years and he took her when Mom needed a break or had to travel. As she aged we all became more and more afraid that "at any time now" it might be time. Well, Cede knew better and just lived and lived as happy go lucky as ever. She even traveled to summer camp with my mom last summer where she won hearts and soothed the homesick campers who came to see my mom in the Nurse's cabin called the "Health Hut". Cede was just what the doctor ordered. She was such a sweet thing that even the camp director couldn't get upset when she wandered into the dining hall and became so excited about begging for food that she took a poop right in the middle of the dining room and then looked back at it like "who did THAT?! That's gross!" The campers got quite a kick out of her.
Dad moved west several months ago and it has been all Mom and C taking care of the old girl. She had begun having more and more trouble getting around up and down the stairs. She was coughing and breathing heavily when it got hot and was deaf as a post. After many long hard conversations Mom decided that it might be time to put her down before she crossed the line from old and gimpy to suffering. We could ALL agree that we didn't want to see her get to the point that made you cringe and wish you had done it sooner. She was almost 17 and didn't owe us a day. We owed her EVERYTHING. My Mom had a friend who was a vet and had offered to come to the house and do it with us. Mom scheduled the appointment and we set to spoiling Cede rotten for the next week. It was a horribly bittersweet week. I vacillated between feeling numb and feeling like I was killing her. She was a lab and would honestly, look at you with that sweet happy face NO MATTER WHAT! She was just too sweet. But I could also see that she couldn't get around very well anymore and the things she loved most like swimming and car rides were not easy or comfortable for her any longer.
On Thursday Mom and I got up and took Cede to the beach. She mustered up all of her energy and swam and rolled like a little snow angel in the sand and low tide seaweed. We took her home and gave her a bath and cooked her a steak. Top sirloin and some of my chips and hummus. Then it was time for a nap and a cuddle in the sunshine on the lawn chair. Nellie came over late in the afternoon as the sun was working its way down the back yard. We talked about Cede and she told mom and I about her old yellow lab. I was horridly sad but somehow very comforted by Nellie's presence. I felt like she had her heart with us and was actively participating in loving Cede as we all were. We laied on the deck with her as she drifted off to sleep. Dreaming I hope, of steak and swimming and all the wonderful trips we took together. It was one of the hardest things I have ever done. Holding her head in my hands and crying onto her black nose while my Mother cried into her neck. But it will also be one of my strongest best memories. We did Cede justice. We loved her so much we let her go before she had to suffer and hurt. We did it together and we were able to think clearly and with enough love to give her the best day ever.
I could never have imagined the richness of the pain and the love I felt all tangled together that day. I get all weepy thinking about it. My heart breaks open when I think of her. She was here to teach us. She taught my family and especially my mother and I what it means to really love a creature. I will forever think of Cede as the world's best dog but it might be more accurate to think of her as my first unconditionally best friend. She insisted on loving me her way and teaching me things with her life from start to finish. I owe her the world.
I was initially angry with my Mom for planning this while I was there. I felt like it was a selfish thing and I was resentful that I was "being put through this" on my vacation. What a Bitch! Me...not my Mother. Mom did me the honor of being there to experience this with her. It has strengthened our relationship. We had to hold each other up through this. I understand now what a heavy mantle she had been holding up being the only one of the original family cast left to make the calls about this old dog who was the most loyal and loving creature but was also ruining her carpets and struggling to remember to pee outside. It was not hers to bear alone and I am glad I could help share it with her. It is no longer my place to think of myself as the child who should be sheltered from these things. I am a member of my family community and a being who shared everything with that dog. It was my duty, my right and my honor to help give her that day and send her to the next life knowing how much she was loved.

Going Home

2010-04-24T02:57:00.000-07:00

Its official. In a month I am going home to Maine for an impromptu visit. If I could figure out how to post the pictures Rosebud sent me of the Otter I would show you and you would UNDERSTAND why I had to buy a plane ticket immediately. I am missing it. I am missing all of the important stuff. I am missing him learning to crawl and learning to talk. I missed him being little and snuggly. Now he is big and moving all over the place. By the time I get there he will be 10 months old and the pictures make it look like he is oh, so busy. I miss Rosebud too. I miss her like a breeze on a hot day. I miss her so much. I have had a lot of time to think about what she said to me and why. I have come to know that she said what she said because she loves me. She loved me enough to put it all on the line and tell me the truth about how she felt. That took a lot of love and some mighty big stones. Bigger than I have. I never told her that I don't love her husband and that I don't think he's good enough for her. I will never tell her that sometimes I think she has 4 sons. I will never say that because I love her and I see that she is happy and my saying that would only cause confusion. Not confusion of "Oh, did I choose the right partner or not?" Not "Did I make a huge mistake?" confusion. But confusion about my having her back and loving her unconditionally. There is enough disapproval in the world and in our families. There is enough doubt and struggle in everyday life without getting it from your best friend. It just shakes the bonds that hold your friendship together. It shook me. When she said "I just don't know if he is good enough for you". It broke my heart. I don't think I ever looked back after I decided that G was the one. Even when we had our rough spot this winter, I still knew to my bones that he was for me. The honest truth is that I cannot fathom living without him beside me. I know the world would keep turning and days would go by, I might even still have a happy life but it wouldn't be the same. Being with him is like wearing my favorite shirt everyday and never tiring of it. It always feels comfortable, it always fits just right, it always makes you feel like you look soooo good. That is what I feel like being married to the Hubbs. It is subtle but complete. I am better because he is here. So, even though my best friend doesn't see it yet, I don't need her to. I don't need anyone to honestly. It helps that I think my father really does, but even that isn't vital. I just know and that is enough. So, long story endless.....I am ready to go home. To sit and drink tea and hold the Otter. To watch him scramble around and to hear him laugh like a big boy. I am even ready to be around the Carpenter. And I will be grateful for every second I am there. I will feel blessed and fortunate. I will soak in the love I feel for all of them. I will walk by the ocean and let it tie knots in my hair. I will ride the ferry and look for beach glass with my mom or the Rosebud....I may even go by myself. I will practice just being with what is and being happy and still. I will pack my running shoes and run by the ocean...I can't wait.

Little update about becoming littler

2010-04-20T20:47:00.000-07:00

I am not sure how it has happened as I have taken a week off of running and have been eating more than my fair share of bacon and bread but I am down 3 more pounds! I am now officially down 17lbs since the start of all of this nonsense in December! Hooray! Now, if I could only get my body in the groove! I went for a 3 mile run tonight and was battling pain the whole time. I was taking it easy and then I realized that when I was running up hill and pushing it I felt better. So I started running hard for one block and then regular for one block and it started to loosen things up. I can't understand why but I was feeling much better at the end of 3.
I have been seeing the dreamiest of acupuncturists and when I went in yesterday he showed me that the left upper arm links to the right upper leg. He put about a thousand needles in my upper arm and then did the usual in my legs and feet and set me to 'steep'. My arm was jumping all over the place. My leg felt all jumpy too. He said I might feel sore in my arm the next day but that was normal. Well I do feel sore in my arm today and my leg does not feel better but I am in it for the long haul and had such success with my shins and the needles that I will give it a month's worth of treatments before I make a decision. I go back the day after tomorrow....we shall see. In the mean time I drink my green tea and grin about my meager gains and losses....

The invites are coming! The invites are coming!

2010-04-19T17:00:00.001-07:00

I am currently addressing and stickering about a zillion envelopes. I am feeling a lot of anxiety about it. Not about marrying the Hubbs but about pulling off the next 4 months. June to September is going to be the longest, fastest, most important stretch for me thus far (in life, the universe and everything). I just hope I can find ways to be present other than worrying. I heard that worrying is like praying for what you don't want....I don't want to do that. More sitting is required...Anyway, here are the invites. I think they are very sweet. I am proud to report that with the exception of the map envelopes (made from repurposed USGS maps and sold in bulk for a song), everything is from a local business. Pictures were taken at the local dive bar using a sharpie and some envelopes, the strips were printed at the local mom and pop print shop in St John ( Thank you Pilot Copy! ), the cards were acquired at a local printing press that does letter press. It continues to feel good and 'right' to use local, small, sustainable wherever possible. It is like the wedding is helping us warm up for the rest of our lives and living by the values we say we hold now. I like that feeling.

Of pulled quads and exhaustion

2010-04-13T17:29:00.000-07:00

I have been sleeping a LOT this week. It has been really nice. I was almost concerned about it, for a moment yesterday, but it passed and I went back to sleep. I remember how it felt to sleep after coming off an OB course. I would be so wiped out I would sleep for 19, 20, 23 hours. I wouldn't even wake up to pee. I don't recognize that same level of exhaustion in my body and mind right now but looking at what I have been asking of myself for the last 6.5months I am not shocked to find myself willing and able to sleep for hours on end and days on end. The running is adding to that for sure but also is helping me sleep a restful, lower anxiety sleep where I awake feeling refreshed and calmer. In addition, I am sure my narcolepsy is partly a coping mechanism for the anxiety I am feeling about the summer. It seems that when I do a yoga class or try to meditate it doesn't take long before I am fighting with all my will to stay awake. My massage lady Barbara said she knows that when she hits spots of deeply held tension sometimes folks just fall asleep. It makes sense as a coping mechanism. Sleep is a very nice avoidance method. Anyway, I am not struggling with the sleep thing as I am sure I need it. I am sure it is serving multiple functions for me right now and above all else, other than the fact that my bedroom is a total disaster, there is nothing I love more than snuggling in with my Hubbs and taking a nap.

I am not sure I have written about this but I feel "older" for sure. I remember being able to slog through just about anything when I was younger. I could run or hike or sail as hard as I wanted and I would be sore the next day but not injured. I have never battled "injury" the way I am now and it is frustrating. I am feeling motivated and ready to rock but my body is not keeping up with the program. My thigh really hurt yesterday. It felt so sharp and icky that I was afraid it was a bone issue and not soft tissue. It really hurt to have Barbara hammer on me today but it was also refreshing and encouraging to feel tension in some of those places. Its like proof that I am working hard. Sick I know.

I have chilled a bit on the baby quest. I must have been ovulating or something. I am starting to see that there are things I am focused on accomplishing first and marathons I want to run, trips to Africa I want to take. Things that will be very different with a tiny person or three. I have time. I am not "putting it off" but rather I am taking full advantage of the time I have right now to make the most of my "non-mom" time before it is gone forever. I still want it so badly I can taste it and I can't wait to see the Hubbs experience little ones but it is no longer the ONLY thing I can taste. I am beginning to taste the sweetness of us being just an "US" right now.

I am still planning to write about my whole desire to change focus and pursue a career as a Labor and Delivery RN. I just haven't gotten to it and I am not sure I have totally processed it in my bean yet. I am trying, as much as possible to be clear when I "blog". I am aware that this is a totally self indulgent process but none the less, I hate reading utter rambling....ANYWAY, that remains on the horizon.

Fitness Log: Day 116
Total lbs lost 14
Miles run 143.5
My weight loss is stalled currently but I am continuing to see positive changes in my body shape so I am doing my best not to fret about the poundage.

Waiting for my real life to begin

2010-04-11T02:15:00.000-07:00

Any minute now my ship is coming in
I'll keep checking the horizon
And I'll stand on the bow
And feel the waves come crashing
Come crashing down, down, down on me

And you said,"Be still, my love,
Open up your heart
Let the light shine in"
Don't you understand?
I already have a plan
I'm waiting for my real life to begin.

When I awoke today suddenly nothing happened
But in my dreams I slew the dragon
And down this beaten path
And up this cobbled lane
I'm walking in my own footsteps once again.

And you say,"Just be here now
Forget about the past
Your mask is wearing thin"
Let me throw one more dice
I know that I can win
I'm waiting for my real life to begin.

This is a very fitting song at the moment. I am waiting for my "real life" to begin. I am waiting to know where my internship will take me. I am waiting to test and waiting to get hired. I am waiting to throw a wedding. I am waiting to be thinner. I am waiting to apply for nursing school and to become a mother. I spend too much of my time waiting. I am actively trying to spend more time "being here now" and "forgetting about the past", as well as "letting the light shine in". I am happy beneath all of my impatience and anxiety. I have such a fortunate life. I am in love with my husband and his family almost as much as my own. Yet, I feel there is this huge pause.....right now. It sucks to feel trapped and like nothing is quite right when I know that everything is as it should be. I am pretty sure it is a lack of meditation exacerbating my foggy awareness of the "is-ness" of it all. I am just so ready and so excited for it all. It is hard to sit still. Sometimes I feel like the picture above...like I am sitting behind a curtain until I finish my spelling homework and my vegetables.

Speaking of veggies...The Hubbs and I are getting a farm share with friends this summer. It will come from an Organic farm on a little island just outside of town. Each week, for 30 weeks, we will get fresh veggies and eggs from the farm. We will get potatoes, kale, salad greens, tomatoes, cukes, squash, corn, broccoli, and a host of other yummy things from the earth. I am really looking forward to the challenge of incorporating new veggies into our cooking routine. It will be my 3rd summer of Community Supported Agriculture (check out http://www.sauvieislandorganics.com/). I am a huge fan of the idea of buying a share of the bounty of a local farm as a way to help 1.Pay the real cost of my food 2. support local small business and agriculture. We are sharing the share with our friends GW and KJ who are also in the wedding planning process and medical field. She is an RN and he is a RAT medic like the Hubbs. They are awesome. I wasn't sure if she and I were going to get along just because she seemed very "wholesome" and I got a vibe that made me wonder. Well boy, was I wrong! She is so funny and so cool. I love spending time with the two of them. They are quickly becoming our closest "couple" friends in town. It is nice that we live so close and have common interests (as well as senses of humor)I am beginning to feel like we are building our community here in NOPO and it makes me feel very "grown up" and happy.

My running is going really well. The hubbs and I went to the woods last week and ran ten miles. It is the first ten miler since I broke my foot at Seattle. It was hard. The first 3 were great. The next 2 were a little hard. Miles 6-7 were good. Mile 8 ok. Mile 9-9.75 SUCKED! I walked a lot. I was so done. I wanted to be teleported to the car. I wanted down hill and no more mud. I was toast. The last .25mile I flew. It was downhill and lovely. I cranked out everything I had. It felt good. Later that night we went to see the Waillin' Jennys in concert and then met friends for drinks at a swanky cocktail bar downtown. We followed it up by splitting a pulled pork sandwich from the food cart kingdom in the hubbs' old neighborhood. It was AWESOME. The next day I was sore. Aching all over, dear GOD who walks down STAIRS!!???!! My back ached and my R leg is inexplicably painful at the strangest of times. I was a little concerned about running Eugene in oh 3 weeks. So Friday I rested and went to acupuncture and then work that night. Saturday morning I laced up and hit the streets to run home. It wasn't the best run ever. In fact, I felt very fatigued but not all together surprised to be feeling that way. When I got home I did some simple yoga videos off of youtube before dying in my bed. I woke up feeling shockingly good! I am still feeling a little beat up at the end of this LONG night, but it all seems manageable. I am apprehensive but hopeful about this coming Tuesday as well. I have another crack at a ten. Between now and then I am going to run my 3.5miles home this morning, do my simple yoga, have breakfast with my in-laws, sleep with the hubbs for a few precious hours and get up and hit a yoga class. I think adding yoga to my weekly routine will help build strength where I need it and foster some awareness and calm in my mind as well as my body. Why does it seem like it was so much easier to just grit my way through this "distance runner" thing when I was 17? It is a struggle and a joy to be getting to know my body again through running and endurance training. I am learning how to listen and accommodate

So..Yeah, That Just Happened...

2010-03-31T17:15:00.000-07:00

This was a scary week. I had my annual exam with my new Midwife on Monday and she found a lump in my left breast. It felt a lot like every other lump in there except it was a little bigger and "funny" on the edges. She told me not to panic but that she wanted to refer me to the breast health center for an ultrasound just to be sure it was nothing. I left the office feeling like a stunned bird who had just flown into a window. I did not see that coming.

In every way I loved this midwifery practice. The woman I saw was just like my mom in her "way" with patients. There was a feeling that finally, I had found someone who would be with me, the way I had always seen my Mother with women. I was instantly very comfortable with her. Then....she did my exam and told me all of this. My mind reeled. I had felt lumps and had written them off as "boob fat lumps". I heard my mom rolling her eyes at twenty-one year-old me saying "it's nothing, you're such a hypochondriac. She told me that "of course, everyone thinks the big C when they hear lump" but she didn't want to freak me out she just wanted to be sure.

She took my blood pressure which was now soundly elevated to about 165/83, did my bi manual exam (always a treat) and then we talked a little more about my health history. I told her yes, I would like to get pregnant in the next two years and I was trying to lose a little weight. She noted that it would be best for me and my fertility to shed some pounds and suggested the high blood pressure diet. Ahhrg! I don't have high blood pressure. My cardiovascular system is in fantastic health. I can run forever! I am over my ideal weight and under the most incredible pressure I have ever felt in my life to "get everything right" right now. Also, I don't sleep normal people hours and I work in a place where people are dead/dying, faking/drug seeking. insane/off of their medications, pregnant and bleeding/miscarrying, or disconnected from the health care system and are using us as a primary care facility. It is HARD to be there and in a job where you get to do very little to make any sort of immediate or long term impact. I am not in a job where I might get a save or make an important call tonight, tomorrow or three days from now. I fetch blankets, dip urine, move people to ultrasound, chart on the broken and dying, occasionally, I do some chest compressions but a trained monkey could fill my slot with very little effort. Sometimes waiting for my job to "mean more" takes a toll. Anyway, all of that plus a fucking lump in my breast is enough to get a girl's BP up. It's not because I am fat. I am pretty sure of that.

So, I left the office in a foggy haze. I kept thinking that I wished I was walking out of there with the happy news that I was pregnant instead of the news of a lump. Wrong kind of lump I thought over and over again. Wrong damned lump! I got in the car and called my mom. I cried and cried. I told her everything expecting that she would give me some sort of "this is nothing" schpeel. Her words were "well how scary is that?" I replied through sobs that it was pretty f-ing scary. I felt so far away from her. So far away from my dad. Shit I even missed The Hubbs mom. I wanted anyone parental around me. I felt like if one of them were there there would be no way some big scary grown-up disease could grow in my body. I knew the odds of this lump being nothing were very very high. I also know that every young woman who has fought breast cancer at a tender age had the exact same odds and there is nothing special about me that should make me any different. Odds are just that, odds.

I got home and the Hubbs was asleep after working the night before. I told him they found a lump in my left breast and he said "oh honey, I'm sorry" and fell back asleep. I didn't begrudge him this at all. I know what REM sleep is all about and I knew that him waking up at that moment wasn't going to change anything. I called the specialist's office and made an appointment for Wednesday. Then I got ready to go to my clinical rotation. That night I was in Labor and Delivery. It felt like some kind of fucked up providence that I would be going to watch women have babies. Warped, I know. Anyway, I went and I observed and it was as miraculous and wonderful as always. I know that sounds dry and devoid of true emotion but my experience in L&D is the subject of a whole nother post on many things including the deep emotions I feel towards women in labor.

The next two days were mostly a big blur. Wednesday came and I got up and ready for my appointment. I walked into an office and filled out some papers with a graphical drawing of two breasts asking me to mark the target area. It felt like target shooting. Next a woman called out "Mrs Melnick?" That was the first time anyone had called me that other than jokingly. Again, wrong fucking ultrasound....Wrong wrong wrong. I went into a changing room that looked like a very fancy fitting room at a department store. I put on this strange cape and a robe and left my pants and shoes on. I was lead to a small room where the Hubbs was waiting for me. A very nice French woman put hot jelly on Lefty and smoshed around for a while. She reported that she didn't see anything concerning but the doctor was in the next room over and she was going to have him come talk to me and have a look. I was half-way to relief. The doctor came is and brought with him a young man about my own age who was a radiology resident. They both took a look at Lefty and there was more poking and now cold jelly. It felt strange to lay on a table with one breast hanging out talking about how I don't have menstrual cycles anymore. Very foreign. He didn't find anything concerning. The lump was a collection of glands and fatty breast tissue. It was normal. I was fine.

I felt happy and exhausted walking out of the office. I decided to scrap the day of school and went home to fall fast asleep in my husband's arms. Sweet sleep of relief. I called my parents and told them to sound the all clear. I was lucky. Barb, Irene and millions of other women are not so lucky. I feel lucky. I will do whatever I need to to loose the pre-baby weight, to stay healthy, to love my own body, to lower my goddamnned blood pressure. I have tasted the fear of illness and I am not ready to fight through it yet. I am not ready to wage that war even with the hubbs at my side. And BOY let me tell you he was at my side.

When I started panicking about the what ifs he didn't tell me I was crazy, when I started fretting that this might mean no babies, no breasts, no...anything...he didn't try to convince me that it was insane. He held me and told me he was sorry I was sad and frightened but that he wasn't yet. He told me he has never doubted that we will have many fat, healthy babies and live a long time together watching them grow up and watching their fat healthy babies grow up as well. He wins! Shit, I win. I married that man. I love him so for all the things he said and didn't say, for calmly going to the appointment with me and for thinking that the most awkward part of the whole day was when the doctor walked in while he was kissing my arm. I love him.

So, the moral of the story is that I don't have the big 'C', I am refocusing my efforts to relax, slim down, get healthy. I went for an 8 mile run with the Hubbs and the young dog today. It was good. I was tired but it was do-able. We had a great conversation about babies and the Hubbs has humored me with the loose goal of Christmas 2011 as the IUD pulling target. I just have to lose the weight and get hired, through orientation, and squirrel away some cash to pay for a home birth.

Midwives, home births, labor and delivery, and nursing school are all topics for near future posts. For tonight I am just thankful to have 2 strong feet, attached to 2 strong legs, 2 lumpy yet, healthy breasts, and the sweetest, strongest, toughest and most compassionate husband ever. And that is more than enough.

2010-03-25T18:42:00.000-07:00

The lyrics to an Ingrid Michaelson song seem to sum me up right now.

I don't believe in anything but myself
I don't believe in anything but myself
But then you opened up a door
You opened up a door
Now I start to believe in something else

But how do I know if I'll make it through?
How do I know? Where's the proof in you?

And so it goes, this soldier knows
The battle with the heart isn't easily won

And so it goes, this soldier knows
The battle with the heart isn't easily won
But it can be won.

I sit in the back of a bus watching the world grow old
Watching the world go by all by myself
I took a faith full leap and packed up all my things and all my love
And gave it to somebody else

But how do I know if I'll make it through?
How do I know? Where's the proof in you?

And so it goes, this soldier knows
The battle with the heart isn't easily won

And so it goes, this soldier knows
The battle with the heart isn't easily won
But it can be won.

I am not sure what the battle with my heart is right now but it is an unceasing battle. I feel sometimes like I am on the other side of a window watching everyone have a wonderful time. On the other side of the window the world is in color and the sounds are clear and vibrant. On my side of the window things are dingy and muted and my ears feel like they are stuffed with cotton. I feel like I have been drugged. I am slow and clumsy. I don't respond to things the way I used to. People around me are getting excited about things and I am sinking. I want so badly to be getting excited about internship and the wedding and everything beyond that but right now all I feel is frightened. I am frightened all the time. I feel like I walk around startled and sleepy all the time. I feel like shit. I feel like a shitty wife, a shitty sister, a shitty daughter, a shitty student, a shitty friend. I want to be excited but I feel like if I move too quickly I will shatter into a million pieces and I just can't spare the pieces. What is this? Where does this come from? When will it pass? I am not "depressed" as I am still so able to see the colors and appreciate all the good fortune in my life. I am fundamentally happy. I just can't reach it right now. It is so far away, on the other side of the glass.

I want to be here. I want to be present and awake. I am not. I am tired and scared. I am not available to G and I know he feels it. We went away on vacation and had a really nice time but I was off. I don't know where. I was just feeling disconnected and I had no idea how to tell him I felt like there had been an invasion of the body snatchers. I felt awkward and anxious in my own skin and I know it came off as irritated or uncomfortable with him. It was breaking my heart but I couldn't get ahead of it. I am just so ready to have my own mind and life back. I am ready to be the sunny, cheerful woman I self-identify with. I am ready to feel like myself again.

Anyway, right now running seems to be the only thing I am able to do without trauma or feeling upset. I am going to see an acupuncturist to help with the stress and the physical aches and pains of increasing my training. I feel like if I can just keep running I'll be OK. I do believe in myself. I just need to learn how to believe in myself with somebody else. I need to learn how to believe in this new incarnation of myself. That is not easily done. It is lucky I have G by my side to help hold my hand when things get scary.

What The Hell is Wrong With Me?

2010-03-25T12:02:00.000-07:00

I have had the good fortune to vacation with my husband at a beautiful hot spring utopia in the woods of Oregon. We went for a beautiful and quite successful long run. We soaked and walked and napped and generally hung out on the beautiful grounds of this peaceful place. I am still on break from the most stressful year ever....I don't have to go back to work until tomorrow night. Yet, here I am....I am cranky and petulant and bitching at my darling husband in my head over stupid shit. Selfish shit. No good reason to be bent out of shape shit. He isn't doing anything wrong. He is loving and patient and silly and most importantly he is not taking my mood personally. We are supposed to be sending out our wedding invites today and I am SOOOO not in the mood. I am not in the mood for anything. I am cranky and wishing I had all the freedom in the world to run to the airport and take the next plane leaving for Kathmandu. I feel spring fever amplified to life fever right now. I am quite certain it is not about The Hubbs or about anything but the general undercurrent of hard all around me right now. This too shall pass. I just wish my timing didn't suck so much right now.

Things I Am Not

2010-03-19T18:03:00.000-07:00

I am not a straight A student this time around.
I am not yet completely ready to be someones mother.
I am not ready to be a full grown paramedic.
I am not ready to think about how big my school loans are now.
I am not ready to stop working yet.
I am not ready to give up cheese.
I am not quite ready to rock my wedding dress. (see above).
I am not over getting B's this term. (But I have stopped crying and have almost stopped beating myself up for it)
I am not ready to forgive my shit head brother.
I am not ready to write off my shit head brother.
I am not ready for my sweet old dog to pass.
I am missing the ocean and the old days of being on it 7 months a year.

All of that said....I AM several things right now too.

I am on spring break.
I am so very in love with my husband.
I am becoming stronger everyday.
I am loving running more every spin out.
I am ready to leave town for a few days.
I am ready to see my Dad and Kathleen in their new place.
I am ready to have my mom live a LOT closer.
I am ready to see my family.
I am ready to know where I will be spending the summer interning.
I am ready for a new ipod.
I am ready to start a garden.
I am ready to sleep under the stars for the first time this year.
I am ready to learn to climb a mountain.
I am still excited about becoming a medic
I am looking forward to each day with this strange mix of wonder and anticipation that comes from loving my life in a pretty profound way right now ups and downs included.

So, there you have it. The shit, the grit and the great stuff. All in a list.

Running had been going really well. I will hit a 20 mile week this week if my shinsplints don't bring me down.
The back fat is slowly receding.

Almost Over

2010-03-17T10:19:00.000-07:00

I am thinking of having these made for my parents. I got a FUCKING B+ in EKG2 this term. I suspect I will be seeing the same thing in pharmacology this term. I am so disappointed. I feel like I let myself down. One point! One god damned point! I know that if I had put in a little more effort I could have done it. I worked my ass off last term and finals were trying but they were not this hard. I just feel like a failure. I am here to get A's. I need them to move on to graduate school. I am so disappointed in myself. I wonder what the hell my problem is. Is it that I am not smart enough or that I don't want it badly enough? What the hell is going to happen to me? I feel like a mess. I feel like I am letting G down. He signed on to help me get a's so that I could go to PA school. I am not holding up my end of the bargain. I am having flashbacks to all the times I disappointed myself in my undergrad. I could talk myself into not doing anything. This time I have tried. I have made school almost my entire life. Last term, it was almost at the cost of my pending engagement. This term I tried to find some sort of balance and I got at least one B. if there had been lab grades there would be a lot of B's. FUCK FUCK FUCK! I am so upset. Like a heartbroken teenage girl. I just want to die. I am totally freaked out. I need to be one of the best. I am not saying this out of vanity or out of some type A motivation to be the best. I am saying this because I have been so average my whole life and average isn't going to work. Average got me rejected from eight PA programs a year and a half ago. I have tried and I have asked and I have been told that this is my best bet and I think I blew it. I feel like laying down and dying. I just hope I find a way to pick myself up and dust myself off so that I can rally for the next term. I have come too far and asked too much of those who love me to continue to fuck up. I really wish Rosie would call me back. I miss having a friend who knew me like she did. I don't need to be convinced that I am over reacting or that it's not the end of the world. I need someone to say they are sorry I feel so sad and that they love me anyway and things will look a little better in a little while. I feel so sad.

Can relief and dissappointment be coemergent?

2010-03-11T21:41:00.000-08:00

I went on my run today and felt like crap. I could easily have been that it was blowing stink and raining and cold. My legs burned, my lungs felt tired and I wanted to stop the whole time. It was by all measures a sucky run. The good news was that I was meeting a friend to study and I was meeting her at the other end of my 4.5mi run. It meant I had to keep going. My keys and my phone were in my bag which was at the coffee shop. I survived my run and even managed to run more than I walked. I sat at the shop studying all day full of snot and sneezing and my body felt strange. My breasts hurt and I felt all weepy and anxious and strange. I couldn't put my finger on it but it has been going on for days now. Its a little insane actually as the weight loss had been reflected in the bra as well until last week when they seemed to double in size overnight and became achy. The real shit of the whole thing is that I have an IUD and thus, should not be getting pregnant according to the statistics as well as the shear infrequency of our sex life. It shouldn't be possible to get pregnant on once a week sex. That should be my pay off for not getting to see my husband more than one night a week. That one night should be risk free. Anyway, what I am saying is that I don't have the luxury (?) of periods to mark my non-pregnant state with the IUD so things are a lot less concrete than they were before. They are a lot better without the monthly exhaustion and cramping and bleeding and all of that glory, but it leaves things open for interpretation or speculation. I have a healthy stock of home pregnancy tests and take one every few months or so just to be sure or if I have a feeling or a scary dream...I'm insane I know!

Anyway, I am trying to say that I thought I was pregnant today. I just thought I should take a test anyway because I didn't feel right. I took a test as soon as I got home today and it is supposed to show a blue "control" line no matter what and a pink line if I was pregnant. This particular one showed the blue line and then the whole background turned pink. No pink line just all pink background. What the fuck does all pink mean!? Beyond that what the fuck am I going to do if I take another one and I am pregnant? I can't get pregnant right now. I really can't. I am about to quit my job for the summer for my internship and live completely off of Garth's support. I am having a WEDDING in SEPTEMBER! Oh my god! What the hell am I going to do? At the same time I got excited. Really excited about the thought of watching my body change and meeting a new little soul who is part G and part me, watching G become a dad and become comfortable with a tiny person who would grow into a little person and then a big person. I just can't wait for the day when we get to do all of that together. Now back to reality where I say NO NO NO NO! That is not my plan. My plan was/is to graduate and wait another 18months before even starting to try. That would put me about 2 years out from right now. That would hopefully get me enough time to have established myself at a job and in the field a little bit. I would be ready. I would be in the perfect time frame and age of 29. Ok, Ok, long story endless as my friend says...I peed again 40min later (damned bladder!)....and I am NOT pregnant. It was a relief...and a disappointment. I am not so secretly afraid that I won't be able to get pregnant. I sort of convinced myself that if I were pregnant, even if the timing sucks beyond sucks, it would mean I CAN get pregnant. I know that G would be wonderful and amazing if I had peed a tiny pink line. I know also that he was relieved to hear me say I am not. He is the most wonderful person I could have ever dared dream marry. He wants kids as badly as I do but we have a plan. We have a schedule for this stuff so we can keep moving towards what we both say we want in life both independently and together. I love our plan and am happy to not have to adjust everything to accommodate a little person right now but I was a little disappointed. I won't lie. So, with that, I will do a little yoga and head to bed.

And Then I Cried to My Teacher...

2010-03-11T09:56:00.000-08:00

This term has had it's particular challenges. I am not sure why this term so much more than last term. Maybe the bloom of the rose was overtaken somewhat by the thorns. Maybe it's that I got married and spring came and all I want to do is go running in the green green world with my new husband and best friend. Maybe. Whatever the reason I feel like laziness plays a part. Maybe it is because I spent way too much of my undergrad not applying myself fully. Anyway, I have been working on this research paper. With the help of my mother's partner who is a fantastic research librarian I have a bunch of really great sources. I should have gotten more serious about all of this sooner but the week I had planned for it became sick as a dog on the couch week and I barely went pee, let alone worked on a paper. Anyway, I was behind and then all of the other stuff we have this semester started to pile up and I was waiting on sources to arrive and then bam! Here we are, finals are next week. Lab final was yesterday and I don't want to know what my score was on the written. I went down in flames! I am just glad that that class is a pass fail this term. I did well in class all term I just know this would have tanked me to a B instead of an A and sometimes just knowing that you passed is good enough.

So, I was just finished with one exam and getting ready for another when I walked in to hear everyone talking about the paper. I started to freak out. I realized that in spite of the fact that I was now up to date in all other areas I was totally in the weeds with this toxicology paper. I felt like shit. I looked at the schedule and realized that there was no way I was going to be able to spend the time I needed to on my EKG and pharmacology finals if I was trying to pull this paper out of my ass! Something was going to give and I was terrified it was going to be my EKG, pharm and I worked too hard to get B's in those classes. I called my instructor about the paper. He was trying to be helpful but told me to try to "power through" and just get it all done. That did not help. I know he has likely gotten fifteen other phone calls about this stuff and so his kindness and empathy are likely a little thin at this point, but "power through"? Really? C'mon! I was pissed off and freaked out. I went upstairs to my program director and was horrified to realize that I was crying and couldn't stop! I have, in my youth, used my "girl card" and attempted to cry my way out of things. It has been years and certainly not at all this year since I have pulled any of that. I tried to stop but Suzanne pulled me into her office and I was just leaking! I told her I had tried to call the instructor and told her he told me to triage and I told her how overwhelmed I felt and how I HAD to get A's in Kate's classes. She listened kindly and asked if I thought that being out sick had put me in this bind or if I had been ill prepaired. I told her I thought both had happened. I felt like I had been on track until I got sick and then I just felt like I was one legged and things were not getting done the way I had planned out. She told me that I was not the first person to come to her but I was the first person to accept total responsibility for the position I was in and so she was going to talk to my instructor and grant me a week's extension. I was relieved and embarrassed. I had cried to mommy and now she was going to fix things for me. Shit!

So, here I sit blogging....bad! I am packing up to hit a coffee shop with my friend to study for the day. I plan on working at the paper tonight after my most functional brain is burned out. This term is a nightmare! I can't wait for it to be over. I can't wait for a fresh start next term. I have said it before and I will continue to say that paramedic school at the University is the hardest thing I have ever done. And with that, I am off.

Fitness Day 88
Running 3.5mi to coffee shop!
Rest day yesteday.

Spring Has Sprung! All Over My Motivation!

2010-03-09T18:13:00.000-08:00

It is the very beginning of spring here in the temperate PacNW. I am hearing people talking about their garden starts and their plans to grow big beautiful tomatoes and tall stalks of beans and peas nestled in next to organic heirloom lettuces and broccoli. It makes me say WHAT THE F IS WRONG WITH ME?!!! Why am I not even close to thinking about planting little green things other than my envious thoughts that begin "oh man, I wish..." and end "I don't have time to scratch my ass let alone garden right now!" I feel like my priorities are out of whack or something. I have a best friend who, while in MF-ing MEDICAL school and pregnant as humanly possible had a beautiful make that THE MOST BEAUTIFUL and abundant veggie garden I have seen in a long time. What is wrong with me? My weeks right now look a little something like this (they start on Friday as that is my "Monday")
Friday: Sleep in as long as possible then work 7pm-7am
Saturday: Run 3-4miles home from work then sleep from 9am-5pm, have dinner and go back to work 7pm-7am
Sunday: Run 3-4miles home from work then sleep until 4ish in order to see the hubbs for a while before clinicals 7pm-3am
Monday: Sleep until noon then get up to run and study before clinicals 7pm-3am
Tuesday: See Monday lather rinse repeat... though lately I have been taking Tuesday nights off (shhh don't tell) so I can function Wed.
Wednesday: Up at 5am to be at school by 7am until 4pm. Water aerobics. Pass out around 8pm
Thursday: SLEEP THE FUCK IN! Get up and run then study (we have been making Thursday "date night" for the past few weeks since the hubbs has been off. Last week we met a big group for beer and pool) This is my brightest spot in the whole week!
And now we are back to Friday and it starts all over again!
Do we maybe think that this is why I can't fathom planting things and taking responsibility for weeding and watering and tenderly singing to them? Maybe. Anyway, I feel like I am missing a lot this year. I will be missing the Mt Hood summit class, country fair, watching The Otter grow up, helping my father move, SUMMER! I know why I am here and I know why I am doing all of this I just wish I had more time to plant things and watch them grow. I look forward to the days when I can wake early, after a full night's sleep, and sit on the front step drinking tea and watching the starts grow. For now I will train for my Marathon (yep! MARATHON 26.2Miles) in October, look forward to my wedding in September, and keep my nose to the grindstone until August.

Fitness Day 86
6mile run 11min 40sec pace in forest park with dogs and Hubbs.
Bought books on marathon training
Bought new bra and finally ran free from the feeling of being punched in the boobs for miles on end.

On The Road Again

2010-03-08T15:11:00.000-08:00

I am back up and running! I went to see the doctor last week on Friday and he told me he thinks I am still suffering from a sprain of the same tendons and muscles that surround the bone I broke in November. He fitted me with a handful of cuboid pads and sent me on my way free to run, ice and ibuprofen with thoughtful abandon. He also told me that if it was still painful to stop running and come back. I can see how this may seem irritating to some but to me this is evidenced based medicine. This is beautiful. He did a complete foot exam and did not radiate me again. He asked good questions and came up with a very reasonable possible solution. I was, of course frightened that it would not be so simple but after three runs and no pain (while running) I think we may have found ourselves a solution. I am over the moon. I have a renewed desire to run and feel like I want to take on the challenge of another full marathon sooner rather than later. I am ready. I think I can kill my last time and feel a lot better while doing it. I am aiming for Seattle in November. It will be one year from my stumble and break and more than ten years since my first marathon. Seattle is hilly and has its sucky bits but that is just how it goes. Portland is the same way. We have Katie and John in Seattle so it is a reasonable place to go and stay and make a weekend out of it. I am getting all fired up just thinking about it. I will say more about my training plans and life in general as we go along and particularly after I make it through these next two weeks of the term. People keep asking about the wedding planning and I am going nowhere fast with all of that so I have to get back in gear there too. One exhausted step at a time right now. I CAN do this. I think I can I think I can...I will! Ok, off to hit the books...Toxicology papers don't write themselves.

Fitness Day 85
Total weight loss 14lbs
Pant size 14
Yesterday ran 4.5mi at a 9min 45sec pace. Today is a strength training/rest day

WTF?!

2010-02-28T23:34:00.000-08:00

I broke my foot in November running the Seattle Half Marathon. I tripped off a curb and felt something icky but kept running...8 more miles...I have been a "big" runner my whole running career and am used to having aches and pains and pushing through them one way or another. I didn't think anything serious was wrong. WRONG! Three days later I was unable to walk at all. I couldn't stand without feeling dizzy, breaking into a sweat and feeling 8/10 pain (10/10 was my IUD). I went to student health and they told me they didn't think it was broken and that I should "stretch it out. GO for a run" I was pretty sure she was full of crap so I came to my hospital and had an x-ray B-R-O-K-E-N! I spent 8 weeks in boot, crutch, post-op shoe hell and the whole time I was swimming and doing water aerobics, eventually I went to the eliptical machine. I was SO good! I did everything the doc told me to and not a thing more. I started working out a little harder with more weight bearing activity about 4 weeks ago, got totally swamped in school and then got SICK. Four days ago I started running again. We went to the woods and ran on the trail. It was Rad! The next day I went running in the city from the hospital after work. My foot hurt. It felt bruised and achy and it only got worse the farther I ran. By the time I got home I didn't want to be standing on it anymore. Ice offered little help and Ibuprofen didn't seem to be cutting the mustard either. I have worked the last two nights and my foot is on fire! I feel like someone ran it over with a truck. I am calling the MD tomorrow morning. I am freaking out inside. What if I broke it again? What if I have a stress fracture?! What if I have to be on crutches again?! WHAT THE FUCK AM I GONNA DO?! I AM GOING TO LOSE MY FRIGGEN MIND!!!
I called my mom hoping she would be able to say SOMETHING, ANYTHING to make me feel better about my pain and my frustration. Nope. Even translating mom speak and her being as understanding and maternal as possible I don't feel better. She gave me a lecture about over doing it and told me to back off and take it easy...blah.. blah...blah. I didn't want to hear that. Anyway, I have decided to call the doctor in the morning. I just want it to be over. I want to go in and have him tell me there is no break, that it is just tissue "pisseed off-ness", maybe hook a girl up with some orthotics and tell me that running is the best medicine. The weather is getting nice, I am getting spring fever and I am NOT going to be a happy girl if I get the no-go on the running. I will keep posted after the phone conversation tomorrow. Keep your fingers crossed.

I Am A Runner...Now and Forever

2010-02-26T15:16:00.000-08:00

I ran my first Marathon ten years ago. I was seventeen and stubborn as a mule. My brother was 21 and that previous fall I stood by the side of a Detroit road and watched him run the Detroit Marathon. I had sort of chuckled as I watched the thousands of runners and their various paces and body types run by. "I could do a marathon. Doesn't look that hard". My parents sort of craned their heads and looked at me as if I had just seen Flo-jo run by and had challenged her to a race. "Ok, suuure" they said. I was not a runner. I had only ever run because I HAD to for gym class. Oh, yes, and my failed attempt to make friends in my new town in sixth grade by joining the cross country team. It was just the place for the chubby new girl who generally hated running. Anyway, upon returning home from the Detroit race I got on the computer and looked up training plans. I picked a race seven months away and set my sights. I ran and ran and ran. I started out slowly with short distances I would clock by driving them first in my mini-van. As I kept running and the distances got longer I began to find trails and places, some as far as 30min from home, where there were generous shoulders to the road and low traffic volume to run longer distances. My body ached and I still ran slowly. My parents got on board and began riding the bike along side me for my long weekend runs. Ten miles, fifteen miles, eighteen, twenty, twenty-three. My dad would tell me stories about the crazy things he and his gang of brothers did as kids. My mom would tell me about her misbegotten youth as well. It was fun. Rain, snow, discouraging aches and pains. I ran through it all. Spring came and one of my teachers from school who also happened to be a dear family friend also decided to run. It was perfect as my parents had long standing plans to be in France during my race. This was not problematic for me because "you already know what I look like running. And I promise I am going to finish so don't worry. You're not missing anything" was my attitude. Branson was running and so I could go to Traverse City with them and they would bring me home. The day came and the morning was beautiful. The course takes you along Grand Traverse Bay, down this beautiful peninsula. Every inch of the course was beautiful. The race started early and it was cool in the morning but it warmed up through the day and was down right hot by late morning. I was off and running. The dog had eaten just one of my running shoes so I had to order a new pair only 3 weeks before the race and was suffering the consequences of poorly broken in foot wear in the form of bleeding blisters in my arches from about mile eleven on. I kept running though. My brother had been in Costa Rica with a friend and was due back that day but I was very surprised to come over a rise in the course and see him standing out of the sun roof of his champagne colored Honda with sunglasses on and a Gatorade waiting for me. He was in flip flops and chinos but he ran along with me for about a mile. I was about eight miles out and it was clear that I was going to be the very last runner to finish. At this point a van pulls up along side me and a woman informs me that if I would like to get in the van she will take me to the finish line. WHAT?! QUIT?! Are you out of your fucking mind?! I have already run thousands of miles in training and nineteen of them today. I am not getting in that van. "No thanks." I said, "I'm good. I'm gonna keep running." And I did. I kept going. I think I was averaging about 15min/miles at this point. My feet were bleeding and I was sure I was dying inside. My teacher who had finished over an hour ago sent his wife out to find me on the course and Sara ran with me for a while. She was NOT a runner (yet) though now she runs marathons on a very regular basis. She was running next to me and the van lady circled around again. I politely ignored her this time. She informed me that I was going to go over the course time limit of four hours and aid stations were going to be closing up. I kept running. I got to the next aid station and found that all the people there were calling my number and ringing cow bells and cheering for me. At the next aid station someone yelled "Go Anna Hope" and it seems the crowd from the last station had joined this one and they had just two cups poured for me. There were two more stations and at each one the crowd was bigger and more excited. The van lady came by at one point and my brother told her "she's not getting in the van. Stop asking". I finished the race in 5hrs 31min. I averaged ten min/miles for the first eighteen miles and around fifteen min/miles for the rest of it. I finished though. Fifteen minutes after the last runner ahead of me. The most memorable part of the day was not crossing the finish line. It wasn't calling my folks and telling them I made it. The most memorable moment of the whole day and the whole marathon training experience came when Sarah and I were running along the lake, the hot sun on my drained body, Sarah turned to me and said "congratulations, you're a runner. You may never take another step for the rest of your life and you are still a runner." I will never forget that. I remember it all the time when things get tough. I remember that I DID that. Nobody can ever take that away. I am a runner. Broken feet, depression, changes in my body, or my schedule...none of it can take away that simple fact that I am a runner.
Yesterday the hubbs and I went to the woods of Forest Park for a run. I wasn't sure how far or how hard I was going to be able to go between the recent bronchitis and the formerly broken foot. I just wasn't sure. It didn't matter though. Once I got to the forest and let the dog off her leash it was all good. I struggled to get warmed up hacking and wheezing a little for the first fifteen minutes. On the way back I felt so good that I decided to push it a little and lengthened out my stride and picked it up a bit. It felt amazing. The hubbs commented that I had turned up the gas and he was happy to match my new pace. We ran faster than I have run in a very long time for the last mile all the way down the sloping back and forth of the forest. It felt like flying. My stress of the week and the coming weekend melted away. I was running. I hadn't run outside other than once since my injury in November. I was pleased to find everything working just the way it should. A 55min run was no sweat. I am a runner. Today, tomorrow, when I am a hundred years old. I am a runner.

I think I'll just cry about it.

2010-02-24T02:03:00.000-08:00

I just got home from my 8 hr clinical shift where I was starting IVs and pushing medications and really getting into it. I have been having the best time ever in the Emeregency Department. I love my co-workers and their helpfulness in teaching me how to do things and how to do them better, I love talking to and helping patients. I love it all. I love starting IVs and I was SURE that was going to be the thing I hated. No, wrong! I hate the school part. I am so unhappy right now. I have never felt so unprepared ALL the freakin time. I feel like last term was hard and this one is Fucking Impossible. Pardon the french but holy shit! They have it piled so high and so deep I feel at times like there is no way to get it all done and they are just testing us to see if we can pick what is important and sacrifice the right stuff. I hate feeling this way. It reminds me of my undergrad when I was always behind for lack of effort until I realized it mattered and then it was too late....this time it just feels like it is too late all the damn time. I am wide awake with excitement from my shift (no, I drank no coffee) and I have a test in about 6 hours. I should have studied my butt off but I was at clinicals and I had three major papers to write this week. There aren't enough hours in the day and I wonder if any of these instructors have a clue what the others are ALSO asking of us?! F!!!!!!! Anyway, I am feeling well at least. I am ready to run again. I need to be working out again. I am aiming to hit up water aerobics tomorrow night but we shall see what time lab gets out. I can't wait for this term to be over but I also wish we had more time for all of this. I just feel like I am chest deep in the ocean and the waves keep coming closer and closer together. It is getting pretty grim in here!

Things That Give Me Wings

2010-02-21T02:41:00.000-08:00

I have been sick for the last week. Sick like I have not been in a VERY long time if EVER. I can't remember ever, in my adult life, being so sick that I stayed in bed for an entire week and didn't get cabin fever. That was me last week. I had a bit of the slows on Thursday when the Hubbs was feeling under the weather and we went hiking in the muddy wonderful oregonian february spring. By the end of our night at the soaking pool I was feeling wiped out. I didn't even want to 'do it' and it had been about a week since Hubbs and I had been in the same bed at the same time. The next day I woke up feeling pretty puny and I puttered around before work coughing and feeling scratchy and icky throated. By about half-way through my shift I was wheezing, coughing and sweating. I took a gram of Tylenol and 800mg of Motrin and 3hrs later I had a fever of 101.3. That was enough for my charge nurse (mother of 5). She sent me home and I went quite easily. I was hacking my ass off. I would get really winded and breath fast and hack some more. The next night the Hubbs had to go to work and I was wilty on the sofa watching the olympics (perfect sick day viewing BTW!) I was breathing pretty fast just resting and around midnight I spoke to G and he called a friend of ours who was working in the county and just happened to be in the neighborhood, to come over (in her AMBULANCE)and check me out. I was breathing fast at about 30-40 times a min and my oxygen saturation and CO2 levels were normal. She gave me a nebulizer treatment and then got called out to a "real call". The Hubbs called and told me that he thought if I made it through the night and still felt shitty in the morning that he would take me to the quick care. I knew it was viral. I never once thought it WASN'T viral. I was scared though. I have never had asthma or anything else that would compromise my ability to breathe. I felt a little panicked that I couldn't get enough air all the time for about 4 days. It was worse if I had a coughing fit. There was so much pain with just breathing and it became SO much worse with coughing which I was doing almost constantly. I was MISERABLE. I was living in my shower sucking hot steam and eucaliptys. Sunday we went into the hospital. I was working pretty hard to breathe just walking from the car to the door but I begged the triage nurse to let me go to the "fast track" because I didn't want a full work up for chest pain and I knew that if I went to the main ED some over eager resident would order every test in the whole world and I would end up with an ECG and there was NO FRIGGIN WAY IN HELL that the tech on that day was going to see my boobs! Yep! That's how I felt. Silly or not. I knew I just needed a little chest x-ray to make sure it wasn't pneumonia and some NAR-CO-TICS! I needed to be sedated so I could finally sleep! I got just that. She didn't even offer me antibiotics and that was a good thing because I didn't need them. I needed sleep. Sleep. Sleeeeeep. A little phenergan and codiene later and 4 more days in bed and I am a 70% new woman. I am still coughing and still a little winded with exertion but I feel a lot better. We even did it...twice. Yeah, this may be TMI but G has been such an amaizing sport and has taken SUCH sweet care of me (including calling my mother to tell her about my trip to the doctor and delivering milkshakes and cup-o-noodle to me) he deserved to be jumped. I took my decongestant, took my advil, steamed as much crud as I could out of my lungs before he got home and jumped him. He was so happy both for the booty and for the sign that I was feeling better. I love my husband.

So, needless to say my exercise regiment has been a little non-existant. I did lose 7 pounds in fever and coughing. Next week I will start up with water aerobics and running and see how the lungs do. I am excited to be back in action after what was the longest week in my adult life in bed. I am totally behind in school but hour by hour I catch up and the work I am doing is getting me A's so its gonna be ok. The title image for this week came from the fact that as I sit here at work it was time for my redbull inorder to amp up enough to get through the project I am working on as well as the next 4 hours until morning. As I stared thinking about how I manage to make it from day to day the one constant is G. He makes my life possible right now. Paying bills, cleaning up after me, listening to my crap, bringing me food when I am sick, making me dinner while I study, snuggling me to sleep on the rare night that we are home together for bed and being eternally patient with my bad behavior, my short temper, my distracted mind. He loves me. It makes everything "do-able". He gives me wings. He is my melted cheese all the time. Tonight, as he is sleeping in a snow shelter up on Mt Hood, with the Search and Rescue kids doing snow training I am proud of him and proud to be his wife. He makes me want to try harder, be stronger, do more for other people. He is my inspiration.

Sometimes Overreacting Happens...

2010-02-08T16:10:00.000-08:00

This is an update on the whole brother thing. After a heartbreaking conversation with my mother last night which ended with me making her cry (accidentally), I contacted our "Guy". The one The Hubbs and I had been seeing for help with our premarital counseling. He is fantastic and works almost exclusively with first responders (Fire, EMS, Police). It may sound stupid to those who have normal lives and jobs where they go do work things and come home, eat dinner and go to sleep but some days are harder than others when either you or your partner go to work code someone, take care of an abuse victim, bag a dead body, or deal with jerk face drug seekers all night and then come home just as the sun is coming up to try to get some sleep. It is a wacked out life. It is a good life for me (us) right now but it is not something that everyone understands and talking to a therapist who worked as a fire medic and now works exclusively with this population means I don't have to explain any of that to him. Anyway, I am going to see him because 1. Mom asked me to and 2. I think she is likely right. I get very hurt very quickly and seem to always be looking for a reason to hate him. I need to work on that. I need to stop reacting in the same patterns I used as a little kid. It's not working for me anymore. It seems to be causing me way more pain than it is worth. I want to figure out how to be more balanced and relaxed and I know sitting is part of that but I also feel like a little work with a pro might go a long way to helping me enjoy whatever relationship I end up having with my brother. So, I go to see my "guy" on Thursday. I am anxious.

In very related news of COURSE my brother wrote to me today saying "sorry for the long delay in responding, I have been traveling. Congrats!...." It was a sweet email and it put the final nail in the coffin that I DO need to get some help with my anger and paranoia (?) regarding him and his behavior towards the family and towards me. So I go....

Take a Second and Think About This....

2010-02-07T16:48:00.000-08:00

Today is my first rotation of Emergency Department Clinicals. I am excited and happy to find myself "at home" for this next 5 weeks. I know the nurses I work with will take good care of me and will challenge me and stick me into things that I might not get to try at other places. This is a good thing. I have been reflecting on the importance of my clinical rotations lately. I was talking to a Medic buddy of mine who pointed out that when you go to the hospital under "normal" conditions ie: you are breathing and talking and there for something routine, you can request a different provider if something turns you off about the one you are seeing. You can say "no students" or "I want the guy who has been doing cholecystectomys the longest". You can make demands and advocate for yourself that way. When you call 911 or, God forbid, when someone calls 911 for you because you are not breathing, not acting right or you were in a horrible car accident, you don't get a choice. You get me. You get me and my 8 intubations putting a tube in the airway of you or your husband, your mother, your nine-month old. You get me and all the education I did or did not receive. So, if you are normal and healthy, if you are at the hospital for something routine, think about asking for a student. Ask if there is anyone who could learn something from helping take care of you or, at the very least say "Yes" if a student asks if they can observe or "try". You may, worst case scenario, end up with a split lip, a hematoma on your arm or an ugly splint, but next time they will know more and they will do better. And God forbid you ever have to call for help, they will be that much better practiced when they get to you or your loved one.

Things Were Simpler Back Then Right?

2010-02-06T23:52:00.000-08:00

I have long struggled with my relationship with my older brother. I can't explain why. I don't actually know what our deal is. I have my theories of course, but I am not aiming to write a blog post filled with negativity towards my brother and unfortunately, that is all I feel right now. Long story short I got married, he lives in London. I wanted to tell him over skype but the time change proved too much for me. I wrote an email...a week ago...radio silence. My family is not known for their communication skills. I am not sure why, but we seem to be communication retarded sometimes. At the important times...someone is ill or depressed or has a sky high PSA and we just keep it to ourselves. Anyway, I am being told that I have "storybook" expectations of my brother. I disagree. I think in the digital age when people don't even take a leak without checking their email (and my brother is one of those guys), a week is too long to not respond in some fashion to news that a family member got married. Call me crazy!

So, beyond the struggle with him specifically, I find the hubbs and I at the point in the story when we are forced to decide who is invited to the ceremony in September. There are a few cousins and such who we have known since day one but we still just don't intend to include in the "inner circle" ceremony on Friday. It's not a measure of how much we love them its just that we can't invite EVERYONE and we have plans to party and celebrate with everyone who wants to come on Saturday and Sunday. It IS in some part, OUR day. So, the issue is that there are several very good friends who we have become close with over the past year who we would love to have participate in Friday. However, we feel obligated to give family first invitations. Why is this? If we have family members who we "SHOULD" invite who we are not as close to as our friends or one step further, if we have family we don't want to see do we have to "stay open" and invite them? Why does our wedding day have to be the charnal grounds for growth and being the bigger person? Why do we HAVE to feel obligated to invite people we don't wish to "deal with" on that particular day? It's such a loaded situation. Its not that we don't want to see the cousins or family or friends, its just that there are people who are easy to be around and there are people who are not. Why does a wedding mean that you have to invite people just because you share DNA? What is it about being "family" that means you let jerks off the hook, overlook bad behavior, or compromise what YOU want to keep the imaginary peace? It seems so opposite!

Anyway, I think this is a super hot topic. People have lots of different opinions about who you have to extend an invite to and why. I would love to hear those opinions. Not specific to my particular situation. I will handle that, but specific to experiences you have had or how you would anticipate handling the guest list for anythng important like a birth, funeral, wedding, anniversary, graduation...whatever. Lets talk about the feeling of obligation to share news, invite, NOT invite (I know this can be a hot one too, feeling like you have to NOT invite someone for someone elses comfort). What is this all about and how do you sort through these tough decisions? Its not as black and white as we would like.

Updates and Realizations...AKA: Random Blog Day

2010-02-03T19:51:00.000-08:00

I had a huge test today. It sucked. It was hard and it was overwhelming and I wanted to cry and go to bed afterwards. It certainly didn't help that after trauma conference we sat around as a class and "shared" our clinical experience thus far. I have felt frustrated about my personal clinical experience but hearing my classmates talk about the exciting experiences they are having made me so sad and frustrated. I wanted so badly to be at my hospital because I felt a connection there. I wanted to believe that because I think so highly of the hospital and because I feel like a vested member of the team there they would value me and want to teach me. I never would have guessed that I would be ignored, shut out, and generally dismissed the way I have been in the last two weeks. It has been so awkward and generally humbling (not in the productive way but in the demoralizing way) that I don't ever want to go back. That's NOT because I don't like intubating because I do. I really do. I think it is interesting and exciting and would have loved to do more. I am bitter about it yes. It is only exacerbated by the fact that my program director actually wants me to buy them a 'Thank you gift' for accommodating me. I would like to buy them a "screw you" gift instead but I do understand the need to make nice for future classes should they find themselves looking at my hospital as an option for clinicals...NOT something I would recommend BTW! OK, enough about that...long story short....I am miserable right now...with school that is. It feels like last term was challenging but this term feels nearly impossible! It feels disorganized from the scheduling of assignments to the grading on up...nightmare!

Random musing number two is on the fitness front. I have been resisting the urge to put my wedding dress on every other day to see if my hard work has been paying off. In fact, I had resisted the urge since the day after Christmas...resisted that is until Monday. I broke the box out of it's deep dark plastic wrapped hiding place and slid the delicious fabric over my head. My heart was pounding as I put my arms down and reached for the sipper. Last time I tried the dress on it had been tight through the chest and back, and it had clung to some of the wrong places over my hips and belly. Monday night I zipped it up and turned to face the mirror and was shocked to see the change. I am only 9.5lbs down since starting all of this in the middle of December but there is no disputing the change in my body. My arms are beginning to take a more proper shape and the "bubble wrap" under my boobs and on my back has begun to fade. My belly is even taking on a more toned shape...no more food baby, baby! Even the Hubbs has pointed it out. I know it is hard to notice things like subtle weight loss and body shape changes when you see someone everyday but we were at the gym the other night and he got on the treadmill next to me and said "honey your butt looks smaller. You ARE losing weight!" He is not the smoothest operator out there but I could tell he meant it because it was all awkward and surprised. As nice as it is to hear that stuff from him, I am not doing it to "get" him or to make him think I am sexy...God help him, he already thinks that! I am doing all of this so that I feel sexy to me and feel healthy, so I can feel good about growing a baby in this body or raising a baby in a healthy lifestyle. I am doing this for the wedding dress too. So far I am down a pant size and making huge strides in the dress department. I'll keep you posted.

Random musing number three...Things that have changed since getting married. #1: We "fist bump" ring hand to ring hand. Vomit! I know, but the Hubbs thinks it's like "the Obamas honey...it's cool". I humor him. It makes me happy to see him all silly over our rings. It makes me happy to see him happy...more vomit, I know. Thing #2: We graduated from therapy the other day. It was never hard to go or to work on things in between meetings. I really think Tim (our guy) just helped us trust in the strength of our relationship even in the face of our struggle this fall. I think I more than Hubbs needed an outside, unbiased, uninvested voice of professional reason to help me clear away the mental clutter so I could see how good I have it. How good we both have it. He was so sweet as he told us he thought we were on the right track. "You can always call me or email me to make an appointment but I don't think we need to set anything up at this point. You two seem very happy and grounded right now. I see good things to come". It was so nice. I feel that way too but I think I am biased and I am always afraid I am deluding myself...What makes me even more nervous is that I don't even care if I am deluding myself. I am so happy with Hubbs and so happy to be married that it doesn't matter what anyone thinks. Thing #3: Is in the same vein as thing 2. I realize that sometimes I am high speed and he is not and vice versa. Today was a perfect example. After my test I was despondent. I was hungry and exhausted and pissed off. I mostly wanted to eat melted cheese and go to sleep. Hubbs was on full boogie talking about the EMS research he thinks he would like to conduct but knows politics will never allow. He was going a thousand miles an hour explaining all of this and I was for all intents and purposes Homer Simpson...all drooly and "Ghaargh". I have almost no idea what he said. It is not that I lack interest or that I routinely do not pay attention. What I am reflecting on is that this never seems to be a problem for us. We take turns being worthless and vegged out. The important thing is that even when exhausted or despondent or maxed out we go to one another. Just spending time be it sleeping, running errands or walking the dogs, is quality time together. It is what recharges us. Being together is always better than being apart. I spend plenty of time on my own, 4 nights a week in fact. I like my alone nights but I love snuggling in between a dog and my husband. Even if he or I am yammering away while the other one actively passes out. It's just better together. I know this is all a leeetle on the random side but it has been a long day. I am mostly ready to head to bed and am now just waiting for the Hubbs to get home so I don't pass out before he gets home.

Fitness day 46
Down total of 9.5lbs! Woot!
Get-ups x 7min
Water aerobics

This SUCKS!!!

2010-01-31T20:02:00.000-08:00

I don't want to do school or work or ANYTHING right now! I just want to hang out with my husband and be married and happy and all hibernating in our newly wedded bliss! Instead I am at the kitchen table surrounded by PowerPoint's about heart disease and green tea and he is up the mountain at work. Waaaaahhh! I know I just knocked the honeymoon but I would KILL to be wearing flowing linen and drinking an umbrella drink like one of those douche bags in the travel mags or on the Knot.....Kill I tell you. Alas, it is not to be....tomorrow is another day in the OR....and so is the day after that. The day after that aka Wednesday...is a huge f-ing test in pharmacology as well as a major assignment due date in medical emergencies! Fuck Me!!!!!! I am tired and behind and having SO much trouble finding the motivation to do anything but run for the nearest airport and fly to Belize or Mexico...hell right now I would settle for Tampa Florida! Oh well, back to the heart and all the ways it can die....seems so unfitting since I feel like mine couldn't be more alive right now....Fascists!

PS...Spell check just corrected my spelling of Douche bag! I LOVE it!

Fitness Day 43.
Tried on my dress yesterday and almost cried! I am seeing results ladies and gents! It is working.
10min of Get ups
30min 400kCals on the eliptical

"You're a Married Woman Now...."

2010-01-29T09:09:00.000-08:00

All the romantical travel magazines and wedding sites would have a girl believe that once married she will spend a little time in the following way....
Lounging about on a beach looking post-coital and blissed out. Or maybe wearing white, flowing garments and walking hand and hand on the beach....or better yet sitting barefoot in side by side hammocks sipping umbrella drinks. Bliss bliss bliss! Well, I am here to tell you that it ain't so. Instead, I am wearing the sexiest of blue scrubs, a hair net, a surgical mask and a stethoscope about my neck. I am trolling the halls of the OR doing my best to looks smart and capable in hopes that some anesthesiologist will give me a shot at an airway.

The paper wedding is still mostly a secret as there are just some family members who would be hurt or upset about it and we don't want to hurt anyone or cause any strife. We did what we did because it was what was best for us and our particular situation. We made it more than just signing papers because it is MORE than just paperwork when you commit to spend the rest of your life with someone. We wanted to be able to address how special the occasion was without making a super involved process out of it. As I have said before, this was about us and September is about our families and friends....but I digress.

I initially decided to write this post in response to another blogger's post about her feelings about family. She writes about how she doesn't want kids and how she feels about the liberty people take expressing their opinions about young married women and "family". She tells the classic stories about the unwelcome opinions from the little old ladies saying "Oh, you'll never feel complete until you have children", or "Someday you'll wake up and realize you missed something". She doesn't see it this way. She expresses thoughts that she would feel trapped and angry if she found herself going though pregnancy and motherhood. She points out how once you get married you are supposed to want babies and how married people get pregnant and keep the babies and if they don't often there is a great deal of struggle and discord between families.

This is interesting to me. I want babies and the Hubbs wants babies too. In fact, we are crazy for babies and I am really looking forward to 18 months or so from now when I get to take the breaks off and see if I can even GET pregnant. However, six months ago I had a friend call and tell me she was pregnant. She had a sweet boyfriend who was a victim of the current economy, she had amazing parents with very liberal minds who would have likely been very happy to help her, and she had a good strong head on her shoulders. She also had just received an acceptance letter to graduate school. Her life's dream was to be an engineer and she had the chance to achieve that goal. She called me because I am that girl. My mother was a Nurse Midwife and all my adolescent/adult life I have been little miss women's health information. I talked with her about what I knew. There is a great clinic in the city where she lived at the time, one where they really respected women and their options. My friend 'N' knew that if she told her boy or her mom they would want her to keep the baby. She knew that was a death sentence for her dream. Long story short she decided not to have the baby and she is now working her way through graduate school. This spurred a conversation with my mom. I told her about my buddy and told her that I didn't know what I would do if it were me who was pregnant. I had just been accepted into a 11 month paramedic program that would definitely NOT be conducive to a pregnancy and would actually be out of the question in the last few months. It would be impossible to complete an internship filled with CPR, intubations, and stretcher fetching while enormously pregnant. Also impossible would be doing all of this while nursing and not sleeping during the first few months of motherhood. The upside would be that my program is very accommodating and I would be able to take the time off to have the baby and get my feet under me again before they would set me up to finish my education be it testing, interning, whatever...They are great. They have accommodated illness, fire academy and serious family situations in the past. That is not the point though. I had told my mom that I didn't think now would be an OK time. I thought mom would be all supportive and proud of me for being sensible and driven. Weeeeeell, my mom had other thoughts. She gave me the "talk" of a lifetime about how unrealistic women of my generation are and how it is getting us into more trouble than we realize. She says all this waiting for the "right time" is part of our controlling nature instilled in us by the culture of our time. She pointed out that I am (was) in a fantastic, supportive relationship with enough income to have a nice place to live, good insurance through my job as well as his, supportive family near by...all good things. All more than a lot of families have when they first start out. She had a point. I had long waited to be in such a good place in life. I had all the fundamentals in place. It would not be convenient but it would be OK. I was flabbergasted to think that I was *here*. I was in the zone where it was no longer insane to think of having a baby in fact, I am almost to the "you're not getting any younger" stage. It was no longer a "teen pregnancy". When the F did I get so OLD!?!!?? I know 26 is not geriatric but it is also not teenage anymore (thank god!). I just don't remember getting here. It was a real head trip to think about reaching this phase of my life. It was even stranger to realize that my friend 'N' was theoretically, there too. As modern women we had reached that diving board where we were about to start making those decisions about life, education, family and our futures. AHHHHHHHHHHHHH! I don't think her parents know to this day. I don't know if she ever told the boyfriend. I regret to report I haven't talked to her in quite some time as we are both pretty overwhelmed with school right now. But the message is in there none the less.

As women we are being told that we should be sexy, smart, driven, sensitive, organized, spontaneous, laid back, committed and family oriented. We are being told to be Betty crocker, June cleaver, as well as the CEO with a corner office. Who can do this? I am not saying we have to choose career or family, success in the outside arena or a happy home but I DO want to point out that women these days are expected to make a home, grow people inside of them....breast feed and rule to corporate world. The expectations and opportunities of the modern times have not absolved us of the "responsibilities" bestowed on us by our mothers, grandmothers and the many way backs before them. It's sort of insane! To add insult to injury we are damned if we do and damned if we don't. Women who marry and have families, who "settle down" and do the wife/mom thing while they are young are labeled sell outs, unmotivated, gold diggers...Women who decide to forgo the "family life" in the traditional sense, are labeled as cold, ball busters, selfish, or worse, barren. If you don't "dare" to take on the balancing act or *gasp* don't want to for whatever reason you are judged. Why People?! Why can't we just let people have their choices and lives? Why are women the target of this? Men don't get this shit. If a man is sitting around with his buds and says "nah, we have decided not to have kids" his buds are likely not going to say "Ahw brah, you HAVE to have kids! You won't feel complete, your clock will be ticking, you'll feel like something is missing..." It just isn't common. Anyway, my aim with today's post is to point out the insanity of what we put married women though as a culture. I am not trying to leave the single ladies or the dating ladies out of this particular post but lets face it, married women fall into a whole different puddle of expectations after the I Do. I am lucky enough to have supportive family however, I am also looking forward to babies be they homegrown or adopted. I don't have to go though the process of going against the grain of my family's opinions and hopes for us. That process was saved for the name change process which is another post all together.

Fitness Day 44
15min free weights and get-ups
35min aquajogging.

Things That Make Me Homacidal...re: jack asses in the OR

2010-01-28T09:50:00.000-08:00

I am back in the OR today for another run at some intubations. I woke up at 0550 in order to get myself together and be on time 0700. I arrived at 5min to 7 to find the place a tomb. No one was there. I found the charge nurse making coffee in the break room and she informed me that Thursdays always start at 0800. "I always ask if they are going to tell the students and they always say it would be too confusing". Too COMFUSING?! WTF?! We are learning how when and why to paralyze people, how when and why to shock people with electricity and how when and why to do nothing more than provide 02 for people. Coming in at 0800 on Thursday is beyond our simple medic brains? Jeeezus! Anyway, after getting over that I went to the atrium where there was a beautiful sunrise happening just outside the window. I had some coffee and did some homework. It was a pretty nice start to my day after all.

I made my way back down to the dungeon and looking at the schedule saw it was going to be a mostly LMA day. LMAs are an airway device that sits above the glottic opening and occludes (mostly) the esophagus allowing ventilation of the trachea and thus, lungs during surgery. They are mostly NOT used in EMS as they are not a definitive airway and they do not block the esophageal opening enough to prevent aspiration (at least not to the standard of most medical directors). They are however, quite popular for healthy pts having routine and short surgeries with the opportunity to fast beforehand to avoid vomiting and aspiration...and all the associated baddness. So, LMAs mean very few intubations.

On top of this there is a Life Flight RN in the OR today trying to get some tubes himself. There was a similar situation on Monday and Bernie and I worked it out. This guy today was a different story. A jack-ass, big, dumb, tube stealing, jerky themed story. I went to my first case and asked if Dr Scott, the doc I worked with last time who had been so wonderful to me, would allow me to shadow him and maybe assist. This is how I approach these guys. They don't want a tube whore they want a student. He told me he was going to LMA her and there wasn't really anything for me to do. I stood outside, waiting for my coffee to kick in and hoping something else might roll by. I heard the overhead pager "Lifting help to OR 6..." That was something I could help with. I walked back into the room and said "I can help lift". Dr Scott looked at me and said "You just earned yourself a tube." We moved the pt, I applied 02, then he put her under and I started preoxygenating her.
C-E seal and jaw lift as shown in this pic I pirated from the intertubes...I had her at 100% and had the doc happy with my technique. He told me to intubate and I took a look and thought I saw the cords and promptly tubed her stomach. Bummer. I was sure I was gone but nope. He told me to pull it out and get back in with the blade and show him my landmarks. This time I placed it and saw mist in the tube, equal bilateral chest rise and fall as well as a proper end tidal C02. I was in. He taught me how to tape and then we positioned her for her procedure. I was so high! I LOVE Dr Scott and I don't care who knows. He is my hero. My airway guru. Unfortunately, the next 2 cases he had in the day were going to be LMAs for sure as they were young healthy peeps with minor surgeries. Bummer!

I went on to find my other buddy Dr Pan. He had been quick to recognize me the other day and let me take a crack at the tube in the young woman with success. He was quiet but very nice and very helpful. I had seen him earlier but had not had the chance to ask about his cases. I was standing talking to the LF RN who had already been kicked out twice after missing 2 trys this morning, and I said "Oooh, I need to ask Dr Pan if I can get in on his late morning surgery, he's great." The charge RN came up to tell me something about tomorrow and the instant Dr Pan hung up the phone the LF RN went over and asked him if he could tube the late morning pt! What the FUCK!!!!!????? Pardon my french but the F word doesn't even begin to do justice to the horror of this dude's actions. What the hell kind of person does something like that?! What a shit head! Dr Pan of course, said yes. The LF RN smiled at me and I said "Nice, thanks" and walked away. There was nothing else to do. That was the last shot of the day. Fuck him! This means I got ONE tube today. I know that's better than none but c'mon! ONE after that bastard misses 2! and then steals mine?! I am pissed. He knew I am a student. I am not getting paid to be there I am paying to be there. He is on the clock! He only needed 2 tubes to be up to date. He will have had 4 tries if he can even make the next one. What a jack ass. I felt like saying a whole lot of "I hope you...." but wishing ill on other prehospital providers is bad mojo as far as I am concerned. When people are taking care of other people's lives you don't wish them ill. Especially since the Hubbs wants to fly some day. I just think it's poor form. So, I wish that someday really soon, he does something heroic. Something truly newsworthy...something that gets him on TV....maybe national news....and then I hope the butt of his flight suit rips....wide open.

Fitness day 42
I am down a true pant size! Woot Woot.
Water aerobics today again...
Also probably some weights. Feeling good. Love being at my own hospital so I can plan a work out before heading home. Makes things MUCH easier!

And Now We Share Two Last Names

2010-01-27T20:50:00.000-08:00

I got married on Monday night. It was the best day of my life. However, before I jump into the description of the nuptials I have to preface it with a bit of context on the day as a whole.

We have established that I am in Paramedic school. I began my clinical rotations on Monday. Not just clinicals in general, but my OR rotation. This is the rotation where you humbly grovel at the feet of the ass kings known as anesthesiologists. I don't mean to bag on anesthesiologists as a people (he he "bag"...a little airway humor)...well ok, sure I am bagging on them as a population because they SUCK (for the most part). They are inept cellar dwellers who put people TO SLEEP as a profession. Most of them have the social graces of a glass of water. Actually, water is usually more refreshing. Anyway, there had been some scheduling snafu and my program director was left short several OR spots. I had said maybe I could get in at the hospital where I work...My director took off with this concept and began the long frustrating road to getting me a slot on what turned out to be a bloated student schedule in the OR. The day before I was to begin my rotation I received a forwarded email from the head of anesthesiology to my director. I paraphrase when I say it said they were frustrated and irritated to have to accommodate me, they will "never do this again", and it puts a major imposition on the other students down there. I got that email and panicked! Holy Shit! They don't want me and my director has begged and cajoled and there I am! F!

Needless to say I was very anxious on Monday morning. I walked into find the woman assigned to me was not there yet and when she finally arrived she didn't look me in the eye, didn't say anything to me, handed me an OR schedule with several check marks next to surgeries I assumed she thought I had a shot at and walked away. OK, I thought, I can handle this. I have been in tough spots before. I will smile and be kind and deferential and I WILL survive this day! I may not get any tubes out of it but I will not die of anxiety. Long story short, I got several tubes! The first doc recognized me and pulled me in right away. The second one recognized me as well and after quizzing me on bagging and preoxygenation he too let me place and ET tube in a pt. It was WAAAAAAAY COOOOOL! It is still frightening as I feel like at any moment they may say "Nope, you're clearly and idiot! Get out of here! Bugger off!" But the take home point is that that did NOT happen on Monday. Thus, I left the hospital (after working out) and headed out into the misty late afternoon of Oregon feeling preemptive shock for what had happened and what was to come in just a few hours.

I had told the hubbs that I was going to hit the store for flowers before coming home and as I walked in I must admit, I was NOT feeling very bridal. I was wearing scrubs and frankly felt exhausted after all the adrenalin of the day. I was wandering about the flowers and the young woman finally asked me if she could help. I wasn't sure. She asked what the occasion was and I said I was getting married tonight. "Oh my gosh! I have never done flowers for a wedding before!" She said clasping hands to heart. "It's cool" I said, "I have never been married before. We can figure this out together." And we did. She made me the sweetest bouquet of hyacinth (sitting on my night stand now still smelling like heaven) and 10 mini Gerber daisies that all looked different and hand painted. As she put things in order I ran in to fetch green tea and salad for the mister. I decided I wanted to give gifts to our small collection of buddies witnessing things. I wandered about for a while trying to decided. I settled on a gift bag containing Annie's mac and cheese and a gourmet chocolate bar. I went to check out and the guy ringing me up looked at me and asked "Do you really like Mac and Cheese?" I could have honestly replied yes! I do love it you know. However, I explained to him that I loved melted cheese and my theory about how it comforts and fills in the cracks in the soul like nothing else and I thought it to be the perfect gift of friendship. And chocolate...only freaks don't like chocolate and if they don't give it to someone else and make their day. Simple, but perfect. I told him "nobody is going to open the bag, see Annie's and chocolate and say Oh damn! I hate this shit." He had to agree. By this time I had received several hugs from perfect strangers and I was feeling more bridal by the moment as I walked to my car in the misting rain.

I went home and got dressed and we headed to the pub to meet our friends. We were almost the last to arrive and as soon as we walked in we both got nervous. I couldn't sit still. There were lots of hugs and kisses and thank yous exchanged. I was pretty sure I was going to explode. Hubbs was wicked nervous too. He couldn't stop pacing. Our friend Bear who was marrying us asked us if there was anything he didn't know that he needed to know. We both said no and looked at the other one for confirmation. As if we hadn't driven there together or something. Everyone was smiling and chatting politely. Somehow it was recommended that introductions be made. I still don't know how it happened but we all ended up going around the table saying our name, favorite flavor of ice cream, and what "brought us here tonight". It was priceless. My good friend Jen (not the get to know ya game sort of girl) looked like she had just been transplanted to a bar mitzvah on mars. But, being the big sister I never had she played along beautifully. It made the old outward bound instructor in me sooooo happy. Classic Me.

After the get to know ya circle Bear said some beautiful things about marriage, weddings, seeds and love. He seemed to have found just the right words to encircle what we are trying to do with the two step wedding thing. I can't quite put the words down here but maybe eventually I will stop cherishing them so dearly and will type them up. After Bear the Hubbs said some very sweet things to me about what he always thought his life would be like and how I was a perfect piece to the puzzle. I in turn, said some things back about how he makes perfect broccoli, leaves very sweet notes and how much I love him. I left out the part about him being the only person in the world who doesn't bug me as much as everyone else in the world (with only one or two exceptions) as there were other folks there and I didn't want anyone to take offense :) After "vows" we cheered, exchanged rings (his had fallen out of my pocket and was sitting in the grass by the side of the street! OMG close call!) ate some dinner and then cut the cupcake. Yes, cupcake. They were delicious!

After cupcakes there were stories of medicine, weddings, school, love, shenanigans and friendship. It was litter ally, the best night of my life. Friends took pictures and played silly songs on the juke box. Our friend Annett had collected beautiful glass jars for the wedding in September. I can't say that ALL of my people were there but somehow, the group that ended up at that table on Monday night was the perfect blend of people from the skeptic to the eternal optimist, the new friend to the life long one. It was a beautiful patchwork quilt of people who love us. I felt so happy and so special (just like everyone else). It was the perfect night.

I know that the wedding in September will not be the perfect day or weekend. There are too many people and variable for it to be a blissful and precious as 3 hours at a tiny pub on a Monday night. However, my sights are not set on perfection in September. My family will be there, my brother from far away and my in-laws from as close as downstairs will all be there. There will be weather and uncomfortable beds and people who bug one another. I am hoping for a majority of good time and a chance to stand up in front of my family bio and otherwise as say "I love this man. I choose him. We want to build a life and a family together and maybe help make the world a little better than it was before we got here. Help us, Help us in the hard time and help us celebrate the good times. We love you and we want you to know how much we love each other." Damn....that's not half bad for off the cuff. Anyway, Monday was wonderful. The Hubbs is still freaking out about the ring on his finger and I am still trying to wrap muscle memory around signing my new last name, but all in all I would say it is utter bliss.

Fitness day ???
I have been working on get ups, rocking the elliptical and tonight was water aerobics. I am still at 8lbs down but have recently noticed I am down an entire pant size not just barely but really down. Hip Hip Hooray!

OMG Today is THE Day!

2010-01-25T06:17:00.000-08:00

Here we go folks! I am getting MARRIED IN about 12 hrs! First things first however, I have to go to the hospital and start my first day of clinicals in he OR hoping for some intubations. So much excitement! Wish me luck! I'll post more later. Off I go....

Falling Behind

2010-01-23T00:56:00.000-08:00

Getting back into the groove of school has proven harder than anticipated. I took my first quiz this week and got a B! This may seem crazy to the outsider but I don't get Bs in medic school. I am in medic school because I had too much fun in all the other school I have done and thus did not get into PA school the first time. I can't afford not to take this seriously. I have just been struggling getting back into the groove. It feels like there is so much to do that there is no way to get it done so why bother? Defeatist! I know. Anyway, this is my public declaration that it is time to lock it up and get serious again. I have come too far and paid too much money to F it up here.

In other news I am getting married in 3 days! OMG! I am so excited. I picked up The H2B's ring the other day and it was one more little piece of real. It felt so exciting. It was a beautiful day and we went to see Justine and her boy was there and we were all squishy and happy. I love that feeling. I hope I feel that way for the rest of my life. H2B and I both got new outfits and I am all excited to get dressed up and go to the pub with our buddies and "do this thing". Game ON!

This week was rough at school for another reason. I don't want to jeopardize the program or the university by being too specific so I will be vague. We had a lab experience where we practiced procedures and ran a true code. It was educational and awful. I did my best to keep my mind clear and focused on what I was there to learn but I spent a lot of time the weeks and days leading up to it practicing mindful reflection on all the elements of this event. There was a life on the table being offered so that I may learn and become a better provider when faced with the need to perform any of these skills in real life. I spent a great deal of time first, trying to decided if this was something I wanted to participate in and second, just how I intended to participate. I thought long and hard about participation and I came to think of it a lot like I think of eating meat. The life was going to end weather I was there or not. There would be no more damage done from me being there and in fact, there would only be more of us there to share what I have come to think of as the "Karmic Burden" for the ending of the life. I decided it was my responsibility to be there, to learn as much as I possibly could and to bear a respectful witness to the end of the life holding my awareness, compassion and gratitude out there. It was hard. It was so hard. The hardest part was remembering to stay totally engaged with the learning part and remembering to try my darnedest to learn every little thing I could. I can't really talk that much more about it as it is still upsetting and I don't really know what to say. Except, I was there and I am grateful for the chance to learn and I hope that someday, when I am faced with the need to use any of the skills I practiced that day I am ready and the life will have been worth it after all.

On the heels of that....I start my clinicals on Monday. Weeks ago my program director indicated that she was short several sites for students and I had said maybe I could get in at my hospital. I met some resistance and decided to let it drop. My director did not. She pushed and pushed and got me a spot here. I in turn was forwarded the letter she received from the head of Anesthesiology which stated "We are not happy about this. She will be sharing OR time and cases with another student and that will dilute the experience for both of them. We will make this exception this once but please do not think we will do this again." Holy SHIT! How am I supposed to go in and feel anything but scared and guilty after a letter like that?! I am freaked out enough without adding the whole "they don't want me there" part. Yikes! So, I have added LEARN EVERYTHING I CAN ABOUT INTUBATION AND THE PHARM AND MECHANICS SO THEY DON'T THINK I AM TOTALLY STUPID AND WAISTING THEIR TIME. Its a lot!

Needless to say dear friends I am at capacity. I am bursting and I think I will cry both tears of joy as well as tears of frustration in the next week. I will try to keep you posted short though they may be. Hang in there with me...root for me! I need all the help I can get.

Fitness Day 30+
I am still working out and still on the shrink. I have been behind on tracking the exactness but my pants fit differently and I am still a grand total of 8lbs down since December. Elaine has gotten me started on "Get-ups" and other than the possibly torn quad I am loving them. I spent 10min with weights and 35 on the eliptical last night. Water aerobics continues to be fun...It's all good. Oh yeah, and I ran 2 miles in 19min the other night. It felt great!

Time Flies When You Are Panic Stricken...

2010-01-16T19:43:00.001-08:00

Are you interested in a fast paced career in Prehospital Emergency Medicine? Thinking about becoming a paramedic? Good choice!

However, boys and girls, before you can do this.....

You have to be this....

This is Baby Medic Sue and Baby Medic Tyson...just roll with me people.
These two wide eyed, white shirted, fresh faced babes are at the doorstep to their future. How exciting! Unfortunately, they have fallen prey to the "dorky-shirt-itis" of EMS education. Sue and Tyson live in Oregon so they are working on associates degrees in order to work as medics in the state. They have taken A&P, basic science, math and some sort of BS "health and fitness for life" class. They looked at all the various programs in the area and decided the University program looked like the best option as it was associated with the medical school, well respected and only a year! Woo hoo! Who doesn't love just one year when all the others make you do two? Sue and Tyson are stoked! They have their dorky uniforms all presses and their stethoscope at the ready. They are hungry to learn the business of saving lives!

What they didn't anticipate was that the "Sweet dude! It's only a year!", would become HOLY F-ing SHIT! It's only a year and it's almost half over! OMG I am supposed to start poking people and sticking tubes in places any minute now and I AM NOT READY! DEAR GOD, JUST GIVE ME A LITTLE MORE TIME!!!!

As you may have now gathered I am freaking out just a little bit. In fact a lotta bit! I am at work again tonight and I am taking care of a psychiatric patient who needed some labs drawn. Her nurse is a friend and knows I am mere days away from starting my clinical rotations. She offered me the chance to go in and draw labs. I have taken the phlebotomy class and am technically, able to draw blood here at work. I never do though! I have not yet taken the precious hours needed to get checked off by the phlebotomy Nazis in the lab. Who has a spare 20hrs?! Tyson and Sue do not! I don't either. So, that means that other than class, tonight was my very first stick. I thought I was pretty cool and collected. My buddy disagreed. Said I was all shaky and would have made her nervous. Not nice J! I thought I was chill. The pt was so busy telling me about her rum and coke habit that she didn't even flinch. It is the beginning.

So last term was hard core but do-able. I was (pardon my French) Balls to the Wall the entire time but I was doing well. This term is doubled up here in the first month since we will soon be spending 80% of our time out in hospitals and only 20% in the classroom. Thus, they are cramming in the extra 80% now....ouch! My brain hurts. In fact, as soon as I am done here I am on to cataloguing a myriad of respiratory diseases and sorting through the common presentations and signs and symptoms. Exciting, no? I will not belabor the point I am trying to make any further except to say I am excited, freaked, exhausted, in-love with it all and fed up to the teeth all at once. It is a rather euphoric feeling most of the time...sort of like taking cold medicine and then trying to stay awake and perform cognitive tasks. A little light headed and looped all the time. Maybe Sue Tyson and I need to go get a beer....

Fitness day 30
Wow! A month of efforts has yielded 8lbs total and I think a real change in my attitude towards food and exercise. I still LOVE melted cheese! I love it like oxygen. I love it almost as much as the Hubbs. I treated myself to melted cheese on toast this morning after the absolutely criminally long day yesterday. It was soooo good. But the thing is it's a treat now. Not a food group. I think about my fruits and veggies and make sure to eat breakfast. I have broken and supplemented some "diet food" for convenience sake. Special K protein snack bars in chocolate peanut butter only have 180 calories. I know this is technically a lot of calories when there are a zillion 100 calorie packs out there but riddle me this all ye dieters...are you EVER satisfied after one of those little packs? I'm not. I may even be hungrier. I always end up over eating if I under eat. Thus, 180 calories midway through my afternoon of school is just what I need to keep my focus and my blood sugar in the right place. I have also started using a knock off slim-fast shake for breakfast. All the vitamins and nutrients I need, protein, fiber, and its dirt simple. It even comes in a can that I can recycle. Viola! I eat breakfast now. On my own time without having to cram it in before I run out the door.

Last night I went to the gym and did my 30min on the Eliptical - 400cK
Today, I got up to spend a little time with the Hubbs before work and hit the gym for 10min of abs and another 30min/400cK on the machine. And I intend to do it again this morning before heading home to have brunch with the in-laws. I am all about eggs, cheese and bacon. I will have already earned it and hell, when it's once a month and not twice a week its OK. It's what we call moderation. Its what keeps us positive when the weight loss isn't as fast as we want but when we know we have been "good" to ourselves all week. A little melted cheese can do a world of good.

Thousands of Women in Hundreds of Countries Cant ALL Be Stupid...Can They?

2010-01-15T23:21:00.000-08:00

I was born in a hospital under the watchful eye of a physician after weeks of bed rest, medications and even surgical closure of my mother's cervix to avoid preterm delivery. By the time the doc decided it was ok for me to come out I was over the whole thing anyway and decided I was staying. My mother had an induction, episiotimy and forceps to bring 7lb me into the world. It is a day my mom says she will never forget.

I was born the week my mother was due to graduate Nursing school. It would be ten years before I would sit in the driveway of Mary Breckenridge's Homestead 'Wendover' in the hills of Kentucky and watch my mother graduate from the Nurse Midwifery Program. It would be three more before I would attend my first birth and another seven after that before I would find myself (unintentionally) alone (due to a tremendous snow storm) attending the Christmas birth of a little boy.

I am older now and friends all around me are parents, pregnant or trying to become pregnant. I am thinking about it too now that I am on the door step of married life. I spend a lot of time thinking about what it will be like to be pregnant, if I can even GET pregnant, how I will handle my type-A-ness in concert with my "daughter of a midwife-ness". I think about how much aversion I feel to the idea of hospital birth. In most states out of hospital means a limited choice of providers as it is largely the Lay Midwife population (no nursing certification or master's degree for those who care)who catches the home births or birth center births.

I am well aware that there are bad lay midwives out there. There are bad mechanics and bad dentists out there too. That doesn't mean you buy a new car every time your oil needs to be changed or that you have an oral surgeon do your routine cleaning. Birth is high stakes, I get it, I really do. However, we have an utter inability to trust women and babies and their bodies in our culture. We think that giving birth in a room with the machine that goes bing, to quote Monty Python, means everything will be perfect or that we will be able to fix anything that is not perfect. This is a bummer!

I was in PALS this week (Pediatric Advanced Life Support). It is a class for EMS, RN, MD folks who may be responsible for recognizing and caring for a child in a very bad situation. We spent the two days running what they call "mega codes". Kids were doing everything from simple upper respiratory infections to horrible trauma and cardiac arrest with shockable and unshockable rhythms. I am not saying any of this to horrify any of you dear non-medical readers, however, my take home message was kids will choke on things, stop breathing, seize and arrest...be ready. Bbbbrrrr gives me the willies just thinking about ever having to intubate or cardiovert a newborn. But it happens and it is important to be ready and to know your drugs and the doses and the algorithms to use in each situation.

I got started on this whole topic because one of the instructors was giving the radio dispatch to set the scene for the call we were about to run and she said something to the effect of "You're called to a home where a mother has just given birth assisted by a midwife *gratuitous eye rolling*, the baby was born under water *more eye rolling* and now is blue and breathing "funny" per the midwife". The lead medic started in on questioning and asked about the labor and delivery and if it was normal, any excessive bleeding, how many weeks mom was, if she had any prenatal care and what the one minute APGAR score was. Great Questions! The instructor replied "this is a lay midwife, *disapproving tongue click* not a medical person, she doesn't know APGAR. And the mother hasn't had any "real" prenatal care. These women never do *eye roll, tongue click*. They have their babies underwater and then wonder why they can't breathe".

I was PISSED!!!! After the scenario was over I talked to the instructor and informed her I felt it to be a pretty toxic and biased view for her to be slamming all home birth mothers as stupid and irresponsible as well as all Lay Midwives as uneducated and negligent. I acknowledged that she probably only ever saw the really bad stuff but that doesn't mean that they are all high risk, stupid or end badly. She said she just presents the scene as she saw it. I said I think she did a lot more than that and I did not think it particularly helpful to impose her biases on a fresh batch of medics. We agreed to disagree and I went away pissed off.

This really chaps my ass, as if you couldn't tell...Childbirth is not an illness women have been dropping babies in the fields of Cambodia, Mongolia, West Africa, Egypt. Hell, even European and Chinese women have higher rates of home birth and lower rates of c-sections and associated complications than we do. Why do we think we are so friggen special?! Why are we so unable to trust ourselves and the providers we chose to care for us? Why must we always have some machine tell us things are 'OK'? Its sad ladies!

Now, lest any of my expecting, or trying, or been there done that got the onsie monkey friends think I am dissing their particular choises I am not. I understand that every woman comes to this situation with her and her partner's own context. I am simply observing the fear mongering and undermining of our intuition that is so rampant in our American culture. It makes me sad that something that is so wonderful has become a medical procedure and in many cases is not in the hands of the woman or her partener at all. It makes me angry to hear and see perpetuation of this behavior in the education of EMS, RN and other "medical professionals".

Fitness Day 29
NO real exercise to speak of in the last 2 days! How depressing! I have simply been exhausted and utterly lacking in time durring all of this PALS stuff. They have been almost 13hr days if you count wake up, travel time, class time and eating (yes I count eating). That's a L-O-N-G day for learning at high speeds. So, I have been working hard to eat sensibly and decrease the calories with the exception of the beer I had last night as my "F yeah I survived this day from the underworld" celebration. I hate drinking alone in bed on nights that the Hubbs works....Anyway, I am at work now and will be headded to the gym here in about 2 hours to get my fittness on before I go home to bed, thus ending my 27hr day! Yay for redbull and green tea!

What I wrote

2010-01-13T22:57:00.000-08:00

I am new to blogging and thus find I do not have the discussions that more established blogs have going on. That's fine... I am boaring and blogging is a baby step sort of thig. Anyway, as paper wedding day draws nearer it has me thining about the big day in Septemeber too. That has me thinking about how much I miss my best friend since November and if we will ever recover from this fall. Here is the email I wrote to Meg over at www.apracticalwedding.com. She is a WELL established blogger and very thoughtful woman. In fact, most of the women who regularly read and respond to her posts seem to be "my kinda gals" to sound like my mother for a second. As I have more studying to do tonight I will leave you with the email I wrote to her and see if anyone here has anything to say. I want to prefice this all by saying that R is my dearest friend. I love her like a sister and that means sometimes I want to kill her. I will likely never stop loving her as my best friend so any advice along the lines of "you don't need her forget her...are appreciated in spirit but wholy unnecissary as I will be completely incapable of writing her off. That said, here is my letter.

Hi Meg,
My name is Anna and I am a recent blog reader writer. I am also a soon to be wed woman. I was wondering how to pose a question to the wedding blog gang and decided I would try emailing you directly. Maybe this has already been addressed and I just need to be pointed to the post. Maybe not. Anyway, my question is about best friends and things you say or don't say about their choice in partners. Here is the context first. I am engaged to a wonderful man and we live 3500miles away from my family and best friend. They have had a few small periods of "get to know ya" time over the two years we have been together. I was home this summer while my best friend had her first baby. She is a fantastic woman. Her husband has always and likely will always drive me insane. He is just not my cup of tea. He comes off as loud and immature at the wrong moments (like the birth of their first child). I spent two weeks with them leading up to the birth and he was a handful the whole time. He isn't the guy I would have chosen for R if it had been up to me. The thing is it wasn't left up to me. She says he makes her happy and that she loves being married to him. I believe her. So I love him because he makes my best friend in the whole world so happy.

This fall my fiancé and I hit a hard place in our relationship. I was freaked out and rattled on top of my baseline freaked state heading into finals for paramedic school. I called R in the middle of it all hoping for my friend to tell me to trust my gut and follow my heart and all the other things you are supposed to say to a friend going through a minor crisis. She took the opportunity to tell me that she "isn't crazy about G". She went on to say that she just wouldn't have chosen him for me, that she loves me so much she isn't sure there is anyone "good enough" for me but he "isn't it". I was devastated. I was already having my faith shaken and was questioning my judgment and now this? She told me that she just felt that way and that I had to swear that if G and I made it through this patch that I would forget that she ever said anything. I felt like someone had punched me in the gut. The wind was totally knocked out of me. I agreed and said that I had to go. That was in November.

I am not angry. Mostly I am hurt. On top of that I feel like it sucked the fun out of my "wedding" planning, as she was to be my lady. I am not having attendants but as my best friend for the last 10 years she was going to be my right hand for wedding things (per her request upon learning of the engagement in July). I don't know what to do with this bomb I feel has been dropped in my lap. I want to call her but I don't know what to say. The last time we spoke I was in tears and now after several months of effort and some help from a therapist G and I are in love and happy and really looking forward to the wedding in the fall. I feel like she has condemned my relationship and I am not sure what I do now. Why is it that once you get engaged the world puts a higher price on struggles? I feel like people struggle and being engaged can sometimes exacerbate that struggle feeling and why should those of us who choose to deal with it promptly, with professional help instead of pretending we have it all under control, be made to feel like failures before we even reach the altar? Why does admitting to struggle become a point of no return after engagement? Beyond that, how do you move past a hurt and get back to the fun of the wedding stuff? What do you say when a friend doesn't approve of your intended and you're marrying him anyway?

There are a lot of questions in there I know. If you know of places that address any of these I would love a good point in the right direction. If you think any of them worthy discussion I would dig that too. As always, you facilitate such great discussions. It has been nice to feel that there are others running into some of the same issues and asking the same questions. Thanks for your presence out there in the bloggosphere.

Fitness day ???
Water Aerobics was AWESOME! 75min
No pilates today...boo

Tomorrow = more running
In other news I am down 3 more lbs! I do so terribly miss cheese though. Maybe taco salad tomorrow night with that only just palatable low fat cheese....

A Paper Wedding Draws Near

2010-01-12T18:33:00.000-08:00

In two weeks I will be married. I am getting excited about this. Really and truly excited. I was a little apprehensive until recently but I am starting to feel the butterflies of anticipation and giddy school girl nonsense that you are "supposed" to feel. In fact, I am sure it will be exactly like the picture above. Ha! Not. If all goes as projected I will spend the day in the OR learning how to intubate people and then around 3 when I am done I will head home and take a little power nap? Wishful thinking maybe. Then around 6 we will get dressed in our finest carharts and favorite skirt and head down to the brewery where we had our first date.

If you have never been to the PacNW you may not understand the brewery phenomenon and if you haven't been to North PDX you might not understand how cool Amnesia Brewing is. It is this funky little microbrewery where some guys who love brewing beer serve beer and sausages. They are under obligation to sell said sausages by the OLC who says "pub" means food and brew. Thus, these guys could really give a shit about the food they are all about the beer. So are we! It is great beer. Small batch, yum yum yum! They are just as happy if you walk next door and get pizza or down the block for Mexican and bring it back if it means they don't have to mess with the food.

Anyway, back to the wedding. We decided to make this a no family event as my peeps are so far away and we decided that if there was family it would change the very casual yet very special feel of the day and while we are so excited to have our families participate in the Quaker ceremony in September, we want this one to feel like it is just us starting out on our own as two individuals and not two siblings, children, cousins....etc. This is a little tricky as the Hubbs' sister lives with us. I am not sure yet how we are going to manage this one. I am sure she would say she understood and was fine with it, I just know that it would bum me out if my big brother had told me and then gone and done it without me. Thus, I think the tactic is one of telling after the fact. That way there is no regret of leaving someone out who feels left out. It really isn't about AKB at all, it is all about the shared desire to have part of the wedding that has nothing to do with our wonderful families and fully embracing our adulthood and the commitment we are about to make to one another. September is ALL about community and family and bridging two families with a new relationship. It is going to be great. This however is just ours.

We have some friends who have offered to be our witnesses and one friend in particular is traveling 200miles on a school night to be here for us. I am so grateful. Our friend Bear is marrying us and for that G and I both feel overwhelmed with gratitude. Bear is a good friend and the perfect person to officiate something off beat but serious like a wedding. The rest of the witnesses are friends from our EMS world. There are only 4 of them total but they are a crew who has seen the Hubbs and I through some difficult times internal and external and have now asked if they could come bear witness. I am joyful for this as the wedding wedding in Sept will be very small indeed. There will only be about 50 folks including us on Friday for the ceremony. The idea of standing up and declaring my love and intention to be his partner and love for the rest of our days in front of more than my most near and dear makes me want to vomit and die. As much as I loved the spotlight in theater as a kid my personal life is my own and being the center of attention on this special and emotional day is not something I wish to do in front of everyone I know. Somehow it seems like a private thing. Those big weddings on TV are cool but I would feel like I was standing in a swimsuit in time square.

Anywho, Hubbs and I are going to get the licence next Monday and the Monday after that we are tying the knot. I have ordered the ring from this wonderful artist who made mine. I wrote about her earlier. Singlebbeautiful on Etsy. She is making him a white gold band. It will match mine. I am just waiting for her to call and tell me it is ready. Something about seeing him wear a wedding ring has me totally excited. Little child on her birthday excited. Is it the symbol of the commitment? Is is the symbol that "Hey Ladies, this one is taken?". I am unclear but I do know that I can't wait to see the ring on his finger and kiss him for the first time as his wife. Even in spite of all my non-traditional behavior I am still a giddy mess when it comes down to it. I can hardly wait.

Fitness Today
Pilates 35min
Running That's right RUNNING! At lunch today. It felt pretty awful but I am ready to work through the fascia pain and get my running back on track. I ran about 30min today.

Tomorrow Water Aerobics!

Temper tantrums and snowventures

2010-01-11T18:35:00.000-08:00

A view from Trillium Lake in spring/summer...there was a LOT more snow everywhere yesterday.

Today is my Sunday. At least for the next 2 weeks my school schedule leaves me with Mondays "off". I am still working Friday and Saturday nights so Sunday is mostly spent in bed swatting away the hubbs who is really only respecting my request that he get me up to do something together. Somehow I always seem to think that "sucking it up" will be easier than it feels in those first few moments, ok hours, of doing so.

None the less, yesterday we went up to the mountain to visit some friends and go for a snowventure. I had been crushed earlier in December when the broken paw prevented me from fully indulging my desire to get all wintry and hike in the snow on our vacation to the mountains way out east. Yesterday was awesome. In spite of the fact that upon getting up I proceeded to go off about how men are totally incapable of looking for things in a thorough manner. You see, we had not anticipated the snow trip when I had hit my double Friday (school all day followed by work all night...it sucks!). Thus, I had not organized my outdoor gear and honestly, had no idea where my rain/hiking pants had gone during the recent move. The Hubbs had agreed to look for my stuff and had 90% of it located when I "woke up". The 10% missing was sort of a big deal. It was my pants. I could have worn snow pants but a. I would have sweated my ass off b. They are minimally waterproof. Hubbs said he had looked and I believed him (it was true he had "looked"). I got upset and started ranting around the house about not being organized and how frustrated I was by having moved and still not knowing where important S*&T like outdoor gear was. I basically had a big fit. I had looked in the pit we call a garage, I had looked in the back of the goodwill mobile (AKA my car) and I was taking what I thought was a totally superfluous tour of the hall closet when Ta Da! There they were. The were even hanging on a GD hanger! My next move should have been to say "Yay! My pants! Now we can go to the snow! Let's hit the road." That was not my next move however, I went with the ever popular foot in mouth/head in ass tactic and ranted about how bad men are at looking for things.

I pointed out how many times in one week the Hubbs will stand infront of the fridge, door ajar, and say "Do we have any fill in the blank?" . This is almost always followed by my walking over and picking up said item and saying "Yes Honey, it's right here". This happens on a very regular basis. It's not really a problem because I am known to wait until the worst possible moment to ask him to do something like walk the dog or bring me coffee at work and he ALMOST always does whatever it is with a smile and a little kiss. I very rarely have to envoke the power of the boobs or any other such dirty and underhanded tactics so all in all I think we have a more than equitable relationship. The big difference is that Hubbs NEVER and I mean NEVER chastises me about my F-ups. He just helps me. He may roll eyes or whine a little but he never gives me the business for f-ing up. I need to be more like the hubbs in this respect I think. I am unsure it will ever happen as I am just wired with a shorter fuse for craziness than he is. I will continue to make efforts at extending my fuse however, I will not be holding my breath on this one. I hope his insides match the calm exterior and that he truly does manage to take my bull shit with a grain of salt. He never seems to lose it with me when I am badly behaved. Not saying I like being badly behaved. I actually hate it. I feel sort of embarrassed as it is NEVER as bad as I make it out to be in the middle of a fit. I am usually quite sorry and quick to apologize and take full responsibility for my crappy attitude. He usually looks at me, smiles angelically, kisses my forehead and says something to the effect of "Oh, my little rager, I love you. Even when you are bad. Because it is silly."

This is why I am marrying him folks. He totally and completely gets me. He even gets that sometimes I am not for him to get and thus he waits out the hailstorm and welcomes me down from the crazy tree when it is over, It is because of this that we are able to have a start of the day as described above, followed by snowshoeing out to a friend's cabin with other friends, followed by an AMAZING dinner and some laughter before trundling back down the mountain and snuggling in together only to stay up way too late making plans for the future. I love him. I think I'll keep him.

Day 25
Yesterday was 30min Eliptical 400kCal
Snowshoeing 2hrs 1800kCal

Today 20min Pilates
20min circuit training
Today was an exercise in going rough the motions as I was SORE! But hey I did it!

A Word About Paramedic School

2010-01-08T20:15:00.000-08:00

So I am about a quarter of my way through a one year intensive paramedic program. Most days I am pretty in love with it. I spent one year studying Marine Transportation Operations, two years studying Nursing and another three getting my bachelor's degree in Biology. I know school. My ultimate goal is to become a PA and to work in women's health. I made a run at PA school about a year ago and was not accepted to any of the schools out here and was not willing to gamble and go to the interview I was offered in Phili as things with the "boy" as he was previously called, were new and good and if I had gone things most likely would not have worked out. The Hubbs is a paramedic and in Phili you must be a resident for at least 2 years before you are even able to apply for anything they deem a "civil service" job. In short he could have come with me but that would have just meant two of us out of jobs and far far away from family. This is not the recipe for success. Anywhoo...I freaked out after realizing that I had heard from all of my top schools and the answer was a resounding no. I did a little homework to figure out why they didn't want me and what I should do about it. Here's the scoop. PA school is a 2 year Master's degree program. It is intensive and they require a great deal of patient care experience prior to even applying. It is the new medical school in essence. For folks who don't want to spend a zillion dollars and a trillion years in school, it is brilliant. Lots of education for less money and less time. A great career and lots of opportunity for change even after school. It covers the gambit from surgery to pediatrics and everything in between. The catch is that it is about as competitive as the Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader tryouts, thousands of applicants per school for about 30-50 slots, in the largest programs. Also equally upsetting is that they seem to be accepting people a lot like the Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders...they are all the same. That is the bitter bias of someone who did not get in by the way...grain of salt folks. However, it does seem that there are ways to make myself a more desirable applicant and they do not, thankfully, include hair bleach or silver hot pants. I decided that my option of choice for application improvement was paramedicine. PA schools love medics. They are trained to respond to chain of command, think with varying degrees of autonomy and act in all types of situations and environments. It just so happens that I live in a city home to three different medic programs. I was pretty set on making my way through the stupid ass prerequisites for the on closest and cheapest but turns out that was going to require me to take several "fire science" type classes and jump a bunch of other hoops I have no interest in doing or paying for first. I was feeling fairly demoralized when the ever sensible Hubbs directed me to look into the University program. He was a graduate himself and while it was exponentially more expensive than the community college one, it was only a year and it was consistently graduating some of the finest medics in the area. I can say that without any arrogance as I have spent 2.5 years out here working in Emergency Departments all over the metro area and have seen LOTS of medics. Now that I am becoming part of the EMS family, marrying in and otherwise, I am learning who went to school where and I am surprised to find that so many of the best medics came from the U. They are inquisitive, compassionate, intelligent, professional, assertive and have great patient skills. It is not just a handful it is almost across the board. I would almost be willing to bet that if you put 100 of the city medics in front of me I could tell you who went to the U. Anyway, I got in to the program in about 3 seconds. They were happy to have me and I was so ready to have someone be happy to have me. Rejection hurts...that's all I am saying.

The first days of class were a whirlwind of BS and paperwork. After the second week it became clear that they are NOT messing around. The workload is insane. The teachers are mostly wonderful, caring people who really want to see all of us make it through. This brings me to the real reason for this post. We recently had a regime change where a teacher who had been doing this stuff for a LONG time left to take a job as an occupational health RN. It is a fantastic chance for her and I am happy for her good fortune. That said, I am happier for my own good fortune because she was so OVER teaching us that it was becoming painful. She is a well seasoned EMT-P and RN. She was bored with the work of teaching medic students. I can sympathize. It must suck to feel like you are redoing medic school every year for oh, ten years. If you are that kind of person you are bored out of your mind. That is a sign that it is time for you to do something else. I am glad that she will still be part of the lab instructor group because she has an absolute TON of experience from which to teach us. She just sucked at being a full time classroom teacher. She was never there for our guest lecturers, she tested out of random sections of the book that only highlighted the fact that she had been to NONE of the guest speakers' presentations. If you asked her a question and happened to say "this is confusing," she quickly took an argumentative posture and informed you that No, in fact, it was not difficult or confusing, you are looking at it wrong. Blech! That sucks right? So I figured out her games and managed to get my A in both of her classes this fall but I was not looking forward to the goat rodeo involved in doing it again. I was more than a little pleased to discover that two guys who are themselves, recent program graduates, brand new medics and both highly educated Master's and PhD, were going to be taking over the Medical Emergency class and trying to build a better curriculum where we would be learning information in a way so that it could be easily accessed when we get to the field. They explained that they had had many of the same frustrations as us when they were in the program and they wanted to make it better. They are not the most exciting guys to listen to and neither of them know how to stay on schedule but the desire to make things better and the willingness to take the time to make it happen when they both have lives and families, jobs and education going on. They don't owe us anything so everything they do I see as a gift.

Many of my classmates do not see things this way. Today Jamie and Hugh came and gave us the syllabus for the term. This term is notoriously rough. There is the beginning of clinicals on top of an almost full class schedule. It is ten pounds of work in a five pound sack! It sucks. However, Hugh and Jamie did not make this up. They have made some large changes that I believe will make things better for us. The assignments are now presented in a way that corresponds to what we are doing elsewhere and there are clear objectives outlined. It is all spelled out for us. Do the work and you will succeed. My Fratboy-Fire-Medic classmates spent the entirety of today's presentation rolling eyes and making faces like "Oh, geeze, this is such BS". One of them even had the balls to raise his hand and ask why we have to write a paper when "I can learn from reading just as well as I can from typing. What an ASS! I just thought it was so Flippin' rude! I just hate it when people are rude to teachers. It makes us look bad. It makes me feel bad. I know none of the guys acting like babies today would have said anything like that to any of the fire guys who come lecture us. It sucks! I am excited because the work now requires me to think and use my brain in a way that will keep me learning. They are fire wannabes who don't care about the medicine anyway so they are just as happy to NOT use their brain and do BS busy work. It is irritating to say the least. I just think there are too many paramedics in this city. Somewhere someone decided that it was a good idea for firefighters to get their medic cert in order to make them more highly desired on a company. This is Bull Shit people. Pardon my french but it is a horrible idea to tell people who want to put out fires that they should go study medicine so they have a better shot at getting a job putting out fires! It's stupid and it makes it harder for those of us who DO love the medicine and do want to get jobs as paramedics. Why couldn't you tell them to go get degrees in engineering or physics!? This makes far more sense if the bulk of your desired career you will be deciding how to run into burning buildings or cutting people out of horrible traffic accidents. OK, my feet are getting tired on this here soap box....I shall step down now.

Fitness day 22.
I was EXHAUSTED today. I woke up with a nasty headache and 100% lack of motivation. I slept in. I have my gym bag here at work and will be making the trek to the gym on my lunch break. Not my best day but it has been a LONG week so I am letting myself off the hook and just making better eating choices.

Back in the saddle? I think not!

2010-01-06T19:15:00.000-08:00

Today is my second day back to school after holiday break. I am exhausted. I have trauma conference and M&M on Wednesday so the fun started at 5am so I had time to get my things together, run through the shower and pick up my buddy E so we could grab some coffee at the Evil Empire in the basement of the hospital and still hobble our way (well, I am the hobbler she walks just fine) up to the 12th floor or something awful like that in time for Dr Shriber to holler "settle down people! Lets get started!" promptly at 0700. I generally like trauma conference. There is almost always something cool to learn about even if the last case is almost always some boring ass general surgery blah blah about pancreatitis or something...filler usually. I just haven't been in the mood the last 2 days. I am a little fearful that I have lost my mojo. I was very focused and did very well last semester. I worked my ass off! Just ask the Hubbs....this was part of our problem. Anyway, I am feeling a little jaded and burned out on the University and how highly everyone thinks of themselves just for being there and breathing the air in the building. Yes, cool stuff happens there, great research and fantastic docs, nurses and *medics* come out of this program. I am just feeling like I don't want to be around arrogance and competitiveness right now. I am well aware that I must pull my head out of my ass, and quickly to get on track before I have to play catch up. I am just allowing myself this first week back to wallow a bit. I'm still going to do my drug studying tonight....but I'm not happy about it.

Things I am happy about include the fact that the Hubbs got the "invitations" done today. We have decided we want to be low paper and are using a "wedsite" (barf) for RSVPs and information. We went and took pics at our favorite dive bar's old timey photo booth and were holding signs that said "We're....Getting....Married....9/17/10". Not THE most original, I know, but us none the less and lets be honest, it's ALL been done at this point. Anyway, we did that back in Oh, I don't know September? August? I don't remember except that it was a long damned time ago and the picture has been taunting me from the fridge. The Hubbs took the picture to the locally owned mom and pop print shop and had copies made for something sick like 38 cents each! OMG 200 for about 25.00. Now, I just have to make write the letter that goes with the picture. Back to my court dammit! We will also be making about 20 "fancier" invites for some of the older family members who will expect that. I am fine making my grandparents happy. It doesn't take that much on my part.

Other things I am happy about include the book our "guy" gave us. It is called "The Five Love Languages". It is a book to help you learn what makes your partner feel most connected. Basically the languages are Physical touch, Positive Affirmations, Acts of Service, Gifts, and Quality time. I know what you may be thinking, "I don't need a book to tell me what does it for my partner...they like ___fill in the blank." I felt the same way. That said, I now have bimonthly appointments with a "guy" to help me build a better relationship for now and for the future and I think if we are all honest for a second anyone who has been in a long term gig knows that sometimes we fall into patterns of convenience or habit and we should stop every once in a while and ask ourselves if we do what we do because WE like it or like doing it...or if it is truly what our partner would choose. Like I said, I already have a "guy" so why not really look critically at my decisions. So what I found was that I LOVE love notes. They are my crack. Whats more is that getting them...tiny post its on my pillow saying "sorry we didn't see each other today, sleep well, I'll kiss you in the morning", make me want to do whatever it is that will make him feel as loved as that little square of paper makes me feel. The book has a test you take and you end up with a percentage breakdown of your affinity for the 5 categories. Its very simple and the author does not write too much into any of it. It is just a simple tool to reality check yourself and your actions. It has already sparked my heart in little new ways. Here is the cover.

The final straw in my very early, very long, sort of exhausting, yet happily smooth day was my good fortune in stumbling upon a water aerobics class tonight at the pool. I was feeling rather uninspired as I walked into the women's locker room and was met with the sight of 15 women my mother's age laughing and joking as they climbed into swimsuits. I was thinking "Oh, great. I just wanted to listen to my music and do my thing and go home", when one of the women looked at me and asked if I was there for water aerobics. I made a flash decision. "Sure am!" I said with a smile and I climbed into my own suit and before I knew it I was doing bicycles to show tunes and the best of the 90's. It was super fun. It was just what I needed. I think I may try to make it my new Wednesday night thing. Nothing like a little community to spark a girl's motivation.

Day 20.
Aquaerobics 60min
Walking 30min

I think its time to talk a little more about school as well as the upcoming paper wedding stay tuned!

He's too what?

2010-01-03T00:44:00.000-08:00

When it comes to wedding planning and the obligatory worrying about details and time lines I have decided that Hubbs and I are best likened to these two chairs. He is comfortable and cozy. You could curl right up and take a nap. This chair is full of patience and seems like a nice place to just wait it out. I am not like that.

I am much more like this shaker ladder backed rocking chair. It is a fine place to knit or rock a baby to sleep. It is not someplace you pull your knees to your chest and take a nap. It is a classic (I too am a classic when it comes to wanting to have things a certain way and wanting more than anything to know when, why, how, how much and by whom). I hate not knowing.

Currently, the hubbs and I are trying to reschedule our "paper wedding". We are getting married before the actual wedding in September for many reasons. It started out as all about the health insurance as I will eventually lose mine through work when my clinicals are over and I start my externship taking me out of the ED and into the back of an ambulance for the final push of school. The cost of health insurance through school is so obscene that we decided that getting "paper married" so I could join his policy early was the best plan. The reasons seem to have multiplied from there. Several friends of ours did the wedding before the wedding thing and all of them are very glad they did. All of them claim to have felt like the paper wedding was a special time for just them that set them up to feel more excited and relaxed on the big day allowing for focus on friends and family and fun on the "Day".

Unfortunately the Hubbs and I hit a bit of black ice this fall and though we were slated to make it happen over my holiday break from school we decided to wait and spend some time really working on putting strong habits and tools in place so that we might weather the inevitable storms ahead with all the tools possible. Basically, we never fought, argued or struggled before this November. We didn't. Some couples say that but we really didn't. We struggled with the outside world sometimes and had to work through obstacles but they were always external obstacles and we always just stood back to back and worked it out together. This time it was different. There had been a breech in the fortress and I didn't know until it was too late that I was responsible for the severity of some of the contributing factors. My being so focused on school and grades had left Hubbs feeling a bit abandoned. He knew fundamentally, the reason for the long hours and stress and so he didn't want to put it on me to have to make it better. I want to say now that he did not go have an affair or anything profoundly stupid like that but there was a system failure. It was not pretty.

Anywhooo....I digress. So now we are trying to get the rescheduled paper wedding off the ground. Our dear friend who will be marrying us in Sept is going to be marrying us this time too. We have a few friends who will be joining us for beers and likely, I will have to get up and go to school the next day. I am excited about this. I want to know when this will be. My school schedule is about to get crazy with clinicals beginning in 2 weeks. I had really hoped to have all of this off my plate before I had to move onto clinical and honestly, planning a wedding. Our dear friend happens to be a lawyer and devoted husband and father to two beautiful daughters. This translates to busy and usually in deep doodoo with his wife already for having an impossible schedule without the added fun of trying to fit in a night at a bar marrying some friends in the middle of one of their busiest months. Basically we suck for him right now.

Tonight, on my way to work, Hubbs and I were talking about how we were going to pull this off and I was feeling more and more hopeless. I think sometimes I take his laid back, easy chair approach to things as a lack of concern, enthusiasm or commitment. He truly does not sweat the small stuff. That said sometimes I think he neglects to sweat the big stuff and it leaves me feeling panicked that if I don't do (fill in the blank), it won't get done. This is unfair of me for 97% of our lives. Our bills get paid, the dogs eat, laundry comes up from the basement and the rent check goes out on time. A Christmas tree even appeared and was decorated in the living room without my orchestration. I am a very lucky woman and in the relative sense I should shut my mouth and thank my lucky stars. I am not that kind of woman however, I am the open your big mouth and realize later that you should apologize kind of woman. I am also the type of woman who believes we are more than our gender roles and expectations of ourselves. I like to be challenged and am attracted to people who aspire to grow and learn continually. I also don't want to plan a dammed wedding by myself. Its not fun.

My best girls are on the other side of the country with brand new babies, off the coast of Japan on a navy ship doing anti-piracy actions, living their own freshly married or engaged lives or becoming DOCTORS. I don't have a lot of ladies near by and my mom lives at the other end of an entire day's travel to the other side of the country. There won't be showers and all of the traditional fuss. I am a little bit on my own here.

I have support from some new friends who have offered generously to help but I feel a little bit like there is nothing to help with yet as I don't know what I need to do. I DO know that we need invitations sent out. We need a photographer and we need speakers for the party. I also know that there will be a thousand other little things that I will need help with and won't have time for. What I want is a united front. I want to know what he thinks and wants and I want him to pick a few things from the ever expanding to do list without me having to melt down first. I want him to read my mind. He doesn't see the need to worry about this or that. He just trusts that it will happen and usually, it does. But this is our wedding and time is money in the WIC. Waiting can be the difference between yes and no or 300.00 vs 1,000.00. It sucks but its true.

So we had a long talk about how his chill attitude leaves me feeling a little psychotic and like I must nag to see results. He explained that my impatience leaves him feeling as though he wants to say not now just to teach me to wait. It all seems fair enough and nobody got upset. However, I do think its something to bring up next time we are with our "guy" Tim. I want to learn how to communicate better so that we get things done without nagging and I can chill out without him feeling the need to teach me a lesson in patience. Now that I have worked through all of this in blogland I think I see that this is all part of it. This dance of triggers and anxiety, patience and love is the dance of life. Weddings put all of that into a high powered magnifying glass and turns up the gain. In the grand scheme of life I think we do pretty well. I need to remember to keep wedding perspective and life perspective in their proper places.

Fittness Day 17
Eliptical 75min - 900kCal
Pilates 10min

Celebrating practical engagement rings and giving a big middle finger to "color palates" for weddings

2010-01-02T04:47:00.000-08:00

Fitness day 16!
Pilates 10 min
Eliptical 45min - 700kCal

Last night the Hubbs and I went to a New Years Eve party at a friend's house. We were surrounded by kindred spirits in the form of medics, nurses, and various aspiring medical professionals. In particular our friends Gabe and Christina were there. Gabe recently proposed to Christina during Christmas at her family's home. He took her for a hike in some lovely forest and got down on one knee and asked her to marry him. She said yes and last night they were both still aglow with the candle of their new engagement. As she and I swapped stories and plans/dreams it became clear that the two of us were kindred spirits. She too has a list of practical wedding blogs she follows and upon hearing me answer "no" to her question of if we were having "colors" and "bridesmaids" laughed and said she too thought most of that stuff was not necessary and not "her".

I think it is interesting to reflect on the phenomenon of otherwise rational and practical women becoming engaged. As I have joined the ranks of the engaged I have begun to watch as a staggering number of my friends have become engaged. Women who once espoused feelings of commitment to small carbon footprint, conflict free, fair trade, eco-friendly and financially reasonable products and habits now are sporting large (new) diamonds and planning high impact events. I feel a little like I might have back in high school if all my girls and I had made a pact to shave our heads or wear head to toe pink and then I was the only one who did it.

I want to be clear that I feel good about our choices to have responsible bling. My engagement ring is a piece made from reclaimed white gold and white sapphires. It was created by a local artist and is practical for my life as a glove wearing health care provider, an avid outdoors woman and an aspiring mother. It also reflects where the Hubbs and I are right now. We are not in a place where spending thousands of dollars on something that we cannot eat, commute in or live in makes sense. I am proud of where we are and feel no need to wear some big diamond as a status symbol real or not. I think the exception to this would have been some family ring. If there had been a family diamond I think I would have worn it with pride and gratitude however, it is clear that an antique is not the same as a shiny newly mined diamond....but I digress.

I am not trying to slam women who chose to have the big traditional Cinderella day...ok, maybe I am a little...however, how can we justify going so far into excess and in so many cases deep into debt for one day? I understand that it is a special day and a very important day. I am psyched for my wedding too. I am calling out to my girls who would have us believe that eco-conscious and practical are important to them yet when the "big day" comes they toss it out the window. I say that the big day is an important time to lay a foundation and possibly even demonstrate to others that you are committed to a certain belief that the earth, its people and responsible spending are part of who you are. In today's economy and this culture we live in there is a LOT of room for creativity in this wedding planning nonsense. You can compost, choose a green venue, buy a dress that doesn't require refinancing you entire life. You can start by finding a ring that did not require modern day slavery. If you are into diamonds there are options if you can live without diamonds there are LOTS of options.

I am not hear to rain on any one's parade but as the girl who is planning a summer camp wedding where friends and family are doing things from making cloth napkins and collecting glass jars, to picking wildflowers for me and baking cakes, I am here to salute and encourage my would be practical sisters to shave your head and wear that pink. You are not alone and you should not feel pressured to cave into the wedding industrial complex just because that is what sells bridal magazines. This is the beginning of something new and exciting. Right now, with your wedding planning you and your future Hubbs have a chance to design something that speaks volumes about who you are and what is important to you. Think carefully and take your time. It means something.

ETSY is my favorite inspiration site currently. My ring came from a wonderful woman named Justine at SingleBbeautiful. She uses reclaimed metals and conflict free stones for all of her stuff. Check her out on ETSY - Sellers SingleBbeautiful.

http://singlebstudio.blogspot.com/

The End of the Old Year the Eve of the New Year

2009-12-31T16:46:00.000-08:00

As the sun goes down on another year, the first ten of the new Millennium and the last day of my mother's visit I am waxing philosophical. There has been a lot of good over the last year. I think I will spend today's post making a little list of A. The wonderful things about the last year B. The things I hope for for the next year. I fear that if I don't do it in list format I will end up missing the last night of my mother's visit, lost in a wander down memory lane. So here we go....

A. Wonderful things about 2009

* I have been working at my current job for the last year and have found myself a family in the night crew of the ER.

* The Hubbs and I got to celebrate many exciting things like birthdays, family reunions, holidays (Hubbs made his first Christmas Dinner all by himself) as a couple. This is exciting because I am no longer "new and shiny" to his family and thus it takes a lot less effort for myself as well as everyone else to be comfortable just spending a weekend together.

* I got engaged to my best buddy. 2009 began the period of planning and working towards an official life together.

* We were booted out of one house and stumbled into the amazing place we live in now. (Sucked at the time but has turned into a GIGANTIC blessing).

* I got into and have proceeded to kick ass in paramedic school. Without the hubbs I never would have known what a fantastic opportunity and possibility for my future this could be.

* We adopted a funny little Luna. She has been a wonderful addition to our little proto-fambly. She keeps Gwen on her toes and feeling young, keeps me feeling loved and keeps the Hubbs warm on nights when I am at work.

* I got to watch and help as my best friend became a mother and welcomed the otter into the world.

* I got to go to the Country Fair again.

* I got to help other friends celebrate their happy news of a new baby "OMG" on the way over turkey

* I reconnected with a long lost friend from my life back east.

* I got serious about being healthy and happy and found help and partnership with both of those missions.

* I made an AWESOME new friend....Elaine!

* My parents have continued to remodel their friendship and I am confidant now that even in spite of the huge distance between them they will continue to be my family both individually, together and and with the love and support of their partners.

*Dad and Kathleen moved to Idaho and are now only 9hrs away....vs 4days away.

*The Hubbs got a full time gig in his dream job as a "wilderness" medic for lack of a better term. He runs the every day calls too but is part of the team that responds to the crazy wilderness stuff too. He is so happy here and it makes me feel better about losing him for 4 days at a time, every four days.

B. Things I am hopeful for in 2010.

* I will continue to take my health and physical fitness seriously and will reach my goals.

* I will get to see more of my family.

* I will be getting married. I hope to continue to build a partnership as well as a celebration which represents and supports the kind of woman and person I want to be,

* I hope for a real change for universal health care

* I hope we pull our heads out of our assess as a nation and grant same sex partners "married" status and all of the things that come with that.

* I hope to graduate with honors and get a sweet gig (read and job as a paid paramedic) in the city.

* I hope for the best for my friends and family both biological and newly extended. I know there has been a lot of hardship this year and I hope for a better time of it for everyone this coming year and decade.

This is clearly and abridged list but none the less this is what I am grateful for and what I hope for for the coming year. Happy New Year to anyone out there reading...

I will be back to writing daily now that the holiday hubub is passed...in case anyone is out there....

Fitness day 14.

I have lost a total of 6lbs since I started.

Today

Elliptical machine 48min 600kCal

Pilates 20min

I have managed to work out all but one day since my mom came to visit. I am happy and thankful that she was so happy to jump on board and come to the gym or do pilates on the floor with me. Thanks Mom!

Merry Christmas Baby

2009-12-26T02:29:00.000-08:00

Today is still Christmas to me because my mother just arrived from the East coast. I have been excited about this since oh, September! Christmas has never been my favorite holiday, that space has been reserved for 4th of July and Thanksgiving for a long time. However, my mother and my brother have loved Christmas for as long as I can remember. My brother loved any holiday that involved sleeping in dim lights on top of the heating vent. My mother loves the memories of her childhood in the farm house where we all grew up. She was very close with her grandparents and brothers and has wonderful memories of holidays and family on the farm. I think she still loves the cozy blankets of tradition and makes efforts to build traditions with us even in this evolving time of bicostal and multi-continental families. She still gets us LLBean socks and little things like that to carry the tradition through from year to year no matter where we find ourselves.

The Hubbs and I are celebrating our second Christmas together this year and I am spending it working in the ED. It is in fact my first weekend back to work since my injury. I am happy to be back and happy to be surrounded by my ED family as well as being part of a team who are "on watch" for those who need (and those who don't) help over the holiday. I take a great deal of pride in working on holidays. I grew up with my mother as a solo provider Midwife who rarely had a partner or back-up to cover call for those births that just couldn't wait till the presents were opened or the birthday candles were blown out. Because of this we celebrated a lot of modified holidays as a family. As a kid this occasionally bent my nose out of joint, having to wait or postpone festivities. However, as an adult I am really grateful to my mother and father for having raised me that way. I now don't give a hoot one way or another when a holiday or birthday is celebrated. It's not a matter of times or dates for me its a matter of feelings and intentions. As long as there is time set aside from the hustle and bustle to acknowledge whatever the occasion is I don't care. Because of this I happily sign up to work holidays. I feel part of a brotherhood of those who take the torch on the days when others can't or reeeealy don't want to. I like the feeling of being on duty so that others may enjoy time with their families. Its odd maybe but I am lucky to have found a partner who feels the same way. He was off tonight (because one of us had to be there to gather my mom from the airport) but were it not for the special visit he would have been out there on a street corner keeping watch too. I love this about us.

Last Christmas I was working and Hubbs, then still known as Puppy Love to one of my most favorite ED doctors, was also working in the city. It had been a typical Christmas night at the inner city trauma center and we had seen ambulance after ambulance roll through the bay doors and none of them were my sweety. I had finally given up seeing him that night when around 430am the radio crackled to life. Medic 971 was coming in with a trauma. Something about a guy tweeking out eating glass and busting into a condo complex. Odd. Twelve minutes later the stretcher rolled into the department driven by my sweety and moments later the trauma team was standing around us. "Let's get his clothes off", said the trauma surgeon. I reached for my shears and began cutting his pant leg. I looked up and my eyes met his, "Merry Christmas Baby", he said and flashed me one of his winks. "Merry Christmas. I love you" I mouthed back to him. Shmultzy I know, but this is the suckers we are. We love it. We love our work and we love each other.

This year I was certain I did not care about making Christmas at our house. I was waaaay too consumed with school and being pissed off about my broken paw, on top of some interpersonal strain caused by the constellation of pressures surrounding us to give a rip about trees and lights. The Hubbs, smart thing that he is, saw waaaay beyond my final moments of school stress and realized that when the dust settled I was going to want a tree and lights and the whole bit. He shoped and decorated and wrestled with a pine tree. He is a star! The house is so beautiful and the tree is perfect. He has managed to make our second Christmas even better than the first. He picked my mom up tonight from the airport and brought her right to the hospital to say hi. I was so proud of him. He seemed comfortable and genuinely at ease hanging out with my mom. It made me happy. On that note...I will end today's post with the simple thought that sometimes it really IS the littlest things that make you the happiest like a little I love you whispered under the din of a busy trauma room. Other times it is the big things like Christmas trees and twinkly lights and mothers retrieved from the airport.

Oh Happy Day!

2009-12-23T21:58:00.000-08:00

This is a picture of me on the day I became Mrs Hubbs to be!
Today is fitness day 6! This morning was a leeetle rough what with the whole getting up to pilaticise with the SIL before she headed off to work at 0-dark-thirty. I went to the pool and decided 6 days was a long enough waiting period to weigh myself again. 4lbs down! Holy moly! I am suspicious of course. I know I have been putting in a solid 2 hours of working out daily and working hard to make good food choices. It hasn't been as hard as I had anticipated. I have found yummy foods that mostly I cut up and put on salads or eat a small nibble of after eating my good choice salad and drinking my water. It is nice to feel that I am not forbidden anything just taking notice of how MUCH of anything I am taking in. I will say that this week I have worked hard to avoid refined sugar and melted cheese as they are common trap foods for me and being tired and or overwrought leads me to go for those first instead of a swim or a walk or a salad. I am trying to break the habit in this first 2 weeks. My own south beach meets sugar busters method. I am a total sucker for fats, salts and sugar.

Anyway, enough about the diet exercise crusade. Today is a day to celebrate. I have had soooo much fun making Christmas prepairations today I can hardly stand it! After my trip to the pool today I came home and awoke the Hubbs from his "I work the night shift and thus nap like a tranqued baby during the day" nap. We peeled him out of the bed with the dogs and poured him into the car. We headed out to find a Christmas Ham...like every good Jewish family (His not mine). I had no idea where to find a good butcher shop in town so I did like a good modern child and Googled one. We arrived to find a dreary little store front covered in car Lot paint way out in one of the less savory parts of town. We walked in a were smack in the middle of a bustling little market where those behind the counter were running back and forth grabbing cuts of meat and whole turkeys and wrapping them up for those of us jockeying for position on the other side of the counter. We were standing back trying to get an idea of how the system here was working and were greeted by a large man with a chef's hat on offering us some home made BBQ sauce. The Hubbs does not speak New Jersey/Southern hybrid. I, being well versed in stranger talking, understood him just fine and launched into his life story. Long story short we walked out of there with a 13lb ham and an armful of BBQ sauces.

Next stop was TJ's where we stocked up on Prosecco and other tidbits with which to "Make Christmas". From there we hit the wine shop and 2 more grocery store. Upon returning home the Hubbs made dinner as I checked the final work out off the list for the day. We have since been working on putting things in order in the house for the arrival of the fams the day after tomorrow. Looking around tonight I had the realization that this will be the first big holiday where our families have come to our house. I am so excited. I LOVE our new house and look forward to sharing time here with those I love. Somehow it doesn't seem real until I share it with my loved ones and my mom and the Hubbs' folks definitely count.

I think the biggest reason for celebration today is the fun we had putting all of this stuff together. The Hubbs and I have struggled lately with my being in school and then the broken foot bent my nose a little out of joint. We have been working on getting reconnected and I think nothing does that like putting together a holiday. We are feeling all silly and happy and optimistic about the coming year. It is nice to be able to have so much fun doing things, largely for others today. I don't think I was ever truly in danger of forgetting but today I was reminded why I love him so much. He is my best friend. And with that thought, I am going to go help him make up the guest bed for my mother.

All I want for Christmas is my mom's plane to land (here, and maybe on time too...)

2009-12-22T17:16:00.000-08:00

My Mother will hopefuly be arriving on Christmas night. I say hopefully as there is rumor of a large batch of shitty weather headed to the east that may cause some travel issues. I am staying positive and keeping my fingers crossed that she has a safe and speedy flight over so we can have some time together. My mother lives in Maine. That's 3500ish miles away. I have been over here for almost 3 years now and she still hates it. I do to I suppose. I hate that when something hard happens she is so far away. I hate that when something good happens she is so far away. I hate that there are 3 hours difference in time so that sometimes it is too late to call by the time I get done with my day.

My way of expressing this dislike is by saying things like "I miss you and I wish we were closer." My mother's methods are a little harder to interpret sometimes. For example...I had some pretty significant stomach issues about a year and a half ago. I was working in a job that barely paid me and disallowed me to have another job, had crazy hours and kept me constantly guessing my schedule as well as my work environment. (This was an internship-like job where the connections and the experince are 2/3 the pay. It was part of the get into medical school plan. I didn't ever apply to med school but it has definately paid off in other more important ways). I wasn't making enough money to cover all of my bills and I was begining to live off my credit card. Then I developed an ulcer. I had shitty insurance and was so sick that I couldn't work for several weeks. I called my mom one night worried and broke and feeling ill as well as like a total failure at my new life on the other side of the country. My mom's response was in its most basic description a lecture all about how I needed to learn to take better care of myself and a list of all of the ways I was failing to take care of my self such as not sleeping enough, not eating right, not making a core group of friends, not working in a job that met my financial needs. I was devestated. I just wanted a simple "There there sweety, I am so sorry things are hard and you are sick and frightened. You are not a failure, you are doing the best you can and you are gonna make it." I had forgotten who I was talking to.

My mother has always been no nonsense. She is an extremely loving woman but not in the traditional bake you cookies and kiss your boo boo types of ways. My mother expressed her love by challenging me. I see now that she didn't coddle me because she thought that would make me weak and turn me into someone who couldn't soothe their own hurt feelings or bad days. She was teaching us to care for ourselves and pushing us to need less and less from her and dad. Well, that may be all well and good but sometimes a kid just needs a cookie and a kiss or a "there there honey" phone conversation. It took me a long time to learn that when my mother chews me out on the phone for this or that...mainly for not being good enough to myself, she is saying "I love you. I hate that I am so far away and can't hold you tight and tell you to your face. You are wonderful and capable and smart and lovely but you are human too and humans need food and sleep and days off". Now that is something to hear on a bad day. I count myself fortunate that I have learned to translate long distance mother so well. I am not completely fluent. Sometimes I hear bees when she said cheese and get all wigged out and upset. But most of the time we do really wel.

Anyway, my mom is coming for Chistmas. I will likely be at work on the night of the 25th when she flies in and the hubbs will pick her up from the airport and bring her home to pour her into bed. It will be past one in the morning in her body and that flight is nasty. The next day I will get off work and come home to snuggle into bed next to her for a few hours before we start cooking the Christmas feast. The Hubb's family will be coming over in the afternoon for meet the mom and open the stuff and stuff the face. Then mom and I will have 5days to hang out and plan wedding stuff and see the area. I can't wait. You see, learning to speak long distance mother has brought us a lot closer. It has helped us both feel heard and like we are better listeners. Who doesn't want that?

As I was cleaning up the kitchen tonight I was thinking back and trying to remember when I started to really care what my mom thought of my home. You know, as an adult "woman". I can't remember. I certainly wasn't any time I was still living under her roof as she often threatened to put all of my things into the garage and make me sort it out before putting any of the crap I had in every nook and cranny back into the house. These days I am not so clingy to things. I have moved one too many times to have much investment in anything that takes up any space or weighs anything at all because it just means I am going to have to dust it, dust around it or move it to the next house we live in.

I was scrubbing the counters and thinking about how I want my mother to like my house and my family and my dogs and all of the other stuff I identify as "mine". I want her to approve of the kind of woman I am. I want her to be proud of me and of herself for raising me to be this woman. I want her to think I did a good job cleaning the bathroom. I think it will be important to remember to translate long distance mom even sitting across the table from one another because I don't think my mother is ever going to become June Cleaver or Betty Crocker and I don't think I would like that very much. My mom is fun. She is tough and smart and silly and knows a good time when she sees one. She is also adventurous and brave and loving. I am her daughter and I guess that means I like a challenge. So let the countdown show 3 days until mom arrives. Hip Hip Hooray!

Mom and Hubbs 2B on a ferry back east last year

Fitness Day 5....
*Pilates/aerobics 40min AM ---a bit fristrating as I can really only stand in the hard shoe. I can't flex my foot for pushups or stuff like that. Phooey!
*Pool running (sounds cooler than aquajogging) 60min--PM Took my iPod wrapped it in a plastic bag and tied it to my head so it would be safe from the water. This was pure briliance. I was the only one at the pool so there was a LOT of dancing. I need to make a new POOL playlist. More pop and dance mixes. Woot for cardio.
*Pilates 20min PM -- feeling like an abreviated or just plain simple easy workout tonight. My foot is killing me.

Off with her boot! (Fitness Mission day 4)

2009-12-21T17:12:00.000-08:00

It's official! I have been released to weight bearing activity as of this morning. It has been 3 weeks since I broke my foot running in the Seattle Half Marathon and it was 21 LONG days. I am a fairly active lady and get a lot of joy out of living in an area where I can walk to the store and take my dogs to the park or on a hike no matter the weather. The last three weeks have been devoid of those walks. I haven't even been able to grocery shop as crutches inhibit basket carrying or cart pushing. Needless to say much of my holiday shopping has been via Amazon.com. It has been hard to be unable to run or even carry a cup of coffee from the kitchen to the couch. I dislike having to ask for help and have hated being unable to "nest" now that I am done with the semester and finally able to do some of the settling into the house. However, things are different now. I can walk. The doctor put me in a walking shoe with a "cuboid pad" (see the above picture). It pushes up on the broken bone and prevents it from flexing under the weight of walking. The upside is having my independence back...the down side is how much it hurts to walk on it. The doc warned me that it will be sore for a while as there is still swelling and bone healing going on but it still hurts....Waah waah waah...I know.

I think I will tackle our bedroom tonight. There are just a lot of little things that I want moved here or there and tiny pieces I want picked up, especially before my mother comes to see the house. Moving around on the crutches was just such an effort that I have forgone any major projects until now. I am excited to get started. Yay Holiday Break!

I have been doing my 40min of pilates and hour of aqua-jogging daily...this is day 4. Things have been going well. I am feeling like I am sleeping better, eating better, feeling more positive and relaxed. All the good things that endorphins bring. I am making a huge effort to be as "well behaved" as possible (read not eating cheese as a cure for boredom or as a substitute for a meal) so that I may eat whatever I want for Christmas. I was out to meet a friend for coffee this afternoon and realized how hard it is to find food that is not either a bacon and melted cheese sammy or a dry wrap with hummus and cucumber. I settled today, for half of a tomato, basil, mozzarella sandwich. It was good but somehow it still seemed against my efforts to eliminate cheese as a food group. Oh well, there will be more pilates tonight to make up for the popcorn I sooooo want to eat. Ahhh I just had a thought that now that I can bear weight on my foot I can do workouts that have me standing up. Sweet!

My mother arrives in 4 days. I am getting excited for her visit. I think we will have a lot of fun. I want to take her to see some of the beautiful scenery. I also intend to drag her to the pool. My thoughts about mothers, daughters and the body issues in between will have to wait for another day. In the mean time I will say that I am happy she will have some time to meet the Hubb's folks. I am under no illusions that just because Hubbs and I are in love, our families will be BFFs. I am hoping that they will see the common ground they share of loving their kiddos and be able to have some sort of family relationship. You know what they say....You don't choose your family. I think the same is largely true of in-laws too. Though, I must admit that if given the option I likely would have chosen my future in-laws. They are rad and I am lucky indeed.

My mom and I at the coast on her last visit

The future-in-laws

Anyway, this post was not suposed to be about how much I love my family and family to be....it was supposed to be a hip hip hooray for the end of the crutches and the begining of the foot rehab.

Day 4
40min Pilates AM
35min Pool AM
40min strength training workout PM

Thoughts on a dog's life...

2009-12-20T17:26:00.000-08:00

I grew up with dogs. From the time I was born my family had a dog. The first was Doc. He was some sort of Lab-mixish pup who was given to my mother back when she was teaching special ed swimming. He was a tiny puppy being fed on hamburgers and other non-dog food. By the time I can remember he was a very mellow, protective old guy. I have memories of waking up in the middle of the night as a tiny girl to find doc asleep beside my bed. Unfortunately, we lived on a horrible street out in the country where people drove as fast as they wanted and my family lost several dogs to traffic out there.

The last of the family dogs of my childhood is still alive. She is currently 16, deaf as a post, debatably blind, always hungry, incredibly affectionate and 100% Lab. We got her from some friends when I was ten after our last lab (Sophie) was hit and killed while we were away on vacation. (Worst birthday ever). From day one Cede (Mercedes) has been the best dog I have ever known. Other than the typical puppyhood nonsense of eating only one shoe or stealing food from the counter she was well behaved and incredibly affectionate. When I moved away to college my parents moved to Maine. When I transferred to a new school and moved to an apartment in the city I decided to take Cede with me. She was such a well behaved pooch that she single-handedly turned the building into a pet friendly place. The owner, a stereotypical "maine-ah", was in love with her. By now she was 11 and was a dream dog for the single girl in the city. I walked her several times a day rain, snow or shine without a leash. She didn't like to get too far away from the hand that feeds her. I was also nannying for a little boy at the time and she was amazing with him too. As he crawled and learned to walk and talk they became quite the little pair of buddies. Cede would wait for Milo to put the cracker down on her bed before she would take anything from him in spite of his constantly wandering around with a half eaten cracker or banana in his hand. It convinced me that raising babies with middle aged dogs was something I wanted to do for my own family some day.

When I moved to the West Coast Cede had been diagnosed with cancer and had been quite ill. I had made the heartbreaking decision to leave her behind with my mom and her partner for fear that she may not survive the summer cross country journey in a pick-up truck with no AC. I cried and cried and cried and kissed her goodbye sure that this would be the last time I would see her. It has been 2 1/2 years now and Cede is notably less spry than she was as a pup or even a year ago. She decides that sometimes she doesn't want to walk down the steps to the yard and thus pooping on the porch is a fine substitute. She was the summer camp dog this summer as my mom went to be the Camp Nurse. She wandered down to the water and into the dining room and even got so excited she pooped there too. It didn't seem to deter anyone from falling in love with her. Cede is still, and likely always will be, the best dog I ever had. She was my best friend and served as an important link for my family during the period around my parent's divorce. I feel badly that eventually, my mom will have the impossible duty to decide when Cede has reached her time. However, I couldn't be more grateful for the 16 years I have been able to share with her. In Buddhist terms my dog taught me true bodhichitta or loving kindness.

These days the Hubbs and I have 2 pups of our own. Gwen is a 7 year old Kelpie who has been with Garth for 5 years now. She is brilliant and skilled in psychological warfare on anything younger or less brilliant than herself. She is also the biggest counter surfer and Houdini in history. When we moved several months ago she freed herself from a harness at the store and took herself on a little tour of the new neighborhood. I ran home to find her proudly sitting on the front step all wiggles and "Hey Food Lady, I found the new house! Aren't you proud Food Lady?".

Our other four-legger has only been ours for about 9months now. I found her on the Internet one night and knew from first sight that she would be the next member of our little family. Her name is Luna AKA: LuLu, Lunatic, Stinky, Baddie, Little One, Pickle Head. She was full of barking, begging, craziness and boarder-collie energy when we got her. She was a wild thing and we were not certain it would ever get much better. We had just about resigned ourselves to a dog's lifetime of pure cattle dog insanity when out of nowhere several weeks ago she turned 2. It was sudden as a thunderstorm. All of the sudden she has mellowed and become a dream dog. Don't get me wrong, she still has her moments but over all, these days she is mellow and sweet and only barks when she needs to poop, eat or is being tortured by her big sis. She has even decided that if push comes to shove and she has to have an accident in the house, she will do it in the bathroom on the linoleum floor or as she did in the cabin we rented last week in the SHOWER! Brilliant! So here's to Luna and all the dogs out there who people love both for a lifetime and suddenly and unexpectedly. Here's to dogs. Happy Birthday Little Stinky.

In fitness news Day 3:
Aqua-jogged/swam 60min
Pilates 40min

DAY 2

2009-12-19T14:48:00.000-08:00

Yesterday my wedding dress arrived in the mail. I was sooo excited. There had been a lot of thought and honestly, angst about what sort of dress I wanted to walk down the trail in. (We are having a summer camp outdoor wedding so the aisle is a bit non-traditional). I finally decided I wanted a traditional-"esque" dress and then came the struggle over the money. My Hubbs to be (H2B), is fantastic and supportive and would get me the moon if I wanted it. I was struggling internally with my feminist, thrifty-minded, reality based ideas versus what I pictured in my head and what made me feel all giddy and excited.

I wrestled with all of this nonsense until I finally just talked to my mom and got her blessing to find the dress I wanted. As a side bar I will say that the idea of spending over 250.00 dollars on an item of clothing to be worn once makes me want to throw up. I am a jeans and t-shirt kind of lady. I love dressing up every once in a while and I love looking nice and put together but I do NOT want to feel like I am wearing a costume on my wedding day. My mother had bought me a very sweet white sundress (that will be perfect for the picnic and party on Saturday). I love the sun dress but as I said it just didn't feel like "the dress". Images of tv and movies and what a bride is supposed to look like on the day flashed through my head. I didn't have a clue who I was in the context of wedding world. It sucked. I didn't feel justified spending 200.00 of our 6,000.00 wedding budget on a white dress when I had one that would be just fine. My hubbs mom is ALSO wonderful. I am so freakin' lucky I can't even express! She gave me a check and a very stern talking to that I was not allowed to say no to the help. It was more than enough to cover my dream dress (a wopping 200.00 once it went on sale....hmmmm). It was sooo nice. I must have done something good in a past life.

So, as I said, my dress arrived yesterday and my stomach was full of butterflies as I opened the box. It was white and silky and felt beautiful. I slipped it on and zipped it up and looked in the mirror.....Ugh!

When did my body become this shape and size? Where did this come from? Ahhhh yes. I am happily engaged and full time in paramedic school....I am a good Midwestern girl who treats everything from homesickness to excitement with a healthy dose of cheese. I love food and am marrying a man who is tall, rail thin and manages to have a perfect cholesterol level in spite of his love of bacon and avocado.

I am a distance runner and recently broke my foot running the Seattle half marathon. I have been in a boot and on crutches for 3 weeks and it is making me crazy. I was running 4 days a week for stress control, fitness, and socializing. I am not saying that this physical body has developed over 3 weeks of limited mobility. I am saying that putting that dress on yesterday lit a fire under me to take the next 9 months seriously. I did my first 45min of pilates last night on the livingroom floor and followed it up with an hour of swimming (aqua-jogging) and another 45min of pilates tonight.

I want to clarify that the dress fit. It covered everything and hung the right way but its the difference between feeling like some girl in a dress and feeling proud of myself as I walk down the "path". This brings me to the WHY of this very blog. I am commiting to lifestyle changes for the next year. To start with I will be doing pilates daily for the next 8 weeks. I commit to at least 30min a day for 8 weeks. In addition to this a friend has offered to send me the P90X workout DVDs and I am (freakishly) excited to see what 90 days can do. Until the P90X arrives I am going to be swimming for at least an hour, 5 days a week. When I can run again I will mix it up between the running and swimming in an effort to avoid jacking up my foot again.

As I was running laps in the pool this morning I started thinking about my future beyond the wedding. I want to be a mom and a healthy wife, daughter and friend to myself and others. I want to avoid type II diabetes and cancer, I want to set a healthy example for my children and be an active grandmother some day. I want all of this....so what's the problem? Where is the disconnect? I need to start making some positive changes now so that they become positive patterns and second nature in the future. This blog will detail my struggles and successes over the next year as I set out to take my health future in my own hands. It will not be all fitness related. It will also chronicle my wedding planning adentures, my adventures in paramedic school and my journey to adulthood. So, welcome....If you find yourself on a journey to practical womanhood join the convo. Shed a little light on things. Lets see what we can fingure out.