It's 3 AM, and I'm hiding in one of the callrooms in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU). Those of you who know me well know that I hate the PICU. The kids are too sick and the stories too sad for me to enjoy it up here. I am beyond thankful for those God has called to minister to these precious ones, but I know my time here is only for a season.
I've got the TV on in the background to break the silence, but even silence would be a relief from the beeping of the monitors I hear every time I walk through the doors of the unit. Alarms are constantly going off, and something is always happening up here. It's never silent, never totally quiet. Some of these kids will walk about on their own with little proof they were ever here. Some will walk out physically broken from the tragedy of a horrible accident or from a crippling disease. Some will never walk out. We all hope and pray that our patients will fall in the first category, but those who don't simply break me. In between the lack of sleep (I've spent 51 of the last 82 hours here and will spend 20 of the next 30 here as well) and the emotions, I'm worn out.
Morning labs will be coming back in less than an hour, and then I'll have more decisions to make. Change the ventilator settings or not ... increase IV fluids or go down ... continue antibiotics or turn them off ... the decisions never end. Fortunately my shift does in about six hours, and I will be off for a refreshing ten hours before arriving again, coffee in hand, ready to face the battles all over again. Six more nights ... eighty-six more hours ... then I will move to a different battlezone.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Memories of my grandma
I didn't have to work today (although I did have to go to the hospital for a meeting at lunch that lasted an hour), so I used the afternoon to clean the downstairs. Since I had a little extra time before Hubby gets home, I thought I'd make a loaf of bread. I just checked the dough, and yeasty smell of the bread along with memories of my Grandma hit me in the face like a ton of bricks.
My Grandma, my mom's mom, was and still is one of my favorite people ever. Her husband, my Grandpa, died before my parents even met, so she is the only grandparent I have ever known on that side. She and Grandpa M were both Czech and grew up deep in the heart of Czech country in Texas; she spoke the language fluently, grew up on a farm, and even gave birth to her first child out on a farm. My grandparents moved to College Station before my mom was born and raised their little family there. They were strict Catholics and in spite of this were only blessed with two children. My mom was born almost ten years after my uncle, so my Grandma considered Mom her little miracle. Grandpa M died unexpectedly of a heart problem in the early 1970s, and my Grandma never remarried. For her, he was it, but the entire time I knew her, she never seemed sad or discontent with her life.
My main memories of Grandma revolve around the kitchen. She was a good Czech woman and knew how to bake the most amazing creations all from scratch. Her kolaches were beyond anything I've ever eaten to this day! I remember her making bread in the kitchen and showing me all the steps; she even used to pinch off little pieces for her grandkids so that we could make our own loaves. Of course we didn't do everything correctly, but somehow Grandma's loaves were always the imperfect ones. I seriously didn't figure out for years that she switched them when she handed them to us! I know that my love of baking comes from her.
When I was around twelve, Grandma went to the hospital for routine gallbladder surgery. She had a massive stroke while she was there and was never the same. When I hear the word "Grandma," I flash back to her before the stroke because it's too painful to think about how changed she was afterwards. She passed away several years later, but I still miss her. Hubby and I each have a grandparent that we were really close to who died before we met and who we wish could have met us; I know she would have loved him as much as the rest of my family does.
Like I said earlier, Grandma was a strict Catholic and raised her children Catholic as well. My mom came to Christ when she met my Dad in the mid 1970s, and I know that they both preached Christ to Grandma multiple times after that. She told them that she believed but that she kept going to the Catholic church because it's what she knew and because she didn't want to upset her family. After her stroke, she came to live to us, and I remember reading aloud a passage about salvation to her and my sister one night, praying the words meant as much to her as it did to me. When she passed away, we held her funeral at the Catholic church where my grandpa is buried out of respect to her family. To this day, I still do not know if my Grandma believed, but I am full of hope that I will see her again one day.
In the meantime, I'm going to back and check on my bread. If I want to keep at least a piece of her legacy, I need to ensure I can make a decent loaf of bread ... even if I use some help from a machine.
My Grandma, my mom's mom, was and still is one of my favorite people ever. Her husband, my Grandpa, died before my parents even met, so she is the only grandparent I have ever known on that side. She and Grandpa M were both Czech and grew up deep in the heart of Czech country in Texas; she spoke the language fluently, grew up on a farm, and even gave birth to her first child out on a farm. My grandparents moved to College Station before my mom was born and raised their little family there. They were strict Catholics and in spite of this were only blessed with two children. My mom was born almost ten years after my uncle, so my Grandma considered Mom her little miracle. Grandpa M died unexpectedly of a heart problem in the early 1970s, and my Grandma never remarried. For her, he was it, but the entire time I knew her, she never seemed sad or discontent with her life.
My main memories of Grandma revolve around the kitchen. She was a good Czech woman and knew how to bake the most amazing creations all from scratch. Her kolaches were beyond anything I've ever eaten to this day! I remember her making bread in the kitchen and showing me all the steps; she even used to pinch off little pieces for her grandkids so that we could make our own loaves. Of course we didn't do everything correctly, but somehow Grandma's loaves were always the imperfect ones. I seriously didn't figure out for years that she switched them when she handed them to us! I know that my love of baking comes from her.
When I was around twelve, Grandma went to the hospital for routine gallbladder surgery. She had a massive stroke while she was there and was never the same. When I hear the word "Grandma," I flash back to her before the stroke because it's too painful to think about how changed she was afterwards. She passed away several years later, but I still miss her. Hubby and I each have a grandparent that we were really close to who died before we met and who we wish could have met us; I know she would have loved him as much as the rest of my family does.
Like I said earlier, Grandma was a strict Catholic and raised her children Catholic as well. My mom came to Christ when she met my Dad in the mid 1970s, and I know that they both preached Christ to Grandma multiple times after that. She told them that she believed but that she kept going to the Catholic church because it's what she knew and because she didn't want to upset her family. After her stroke, she came to live to us, and I remember reading aloud a passage about salvation to her and my sister one night, praying the words meant as much to her as it did to me. When she passed away, we held her funeral at the Catholic church where my grandpa is buried out of respect to her family. To this day, I still do not know if my Grandma believed, but I am full of hope that I will see her again one day.
In the meantime, I'm going to back and check on my bread. If I want to keep at least a piece of her legacy, I need to ensure I can make a decent loaf of bread ... even if I use some help from a machine.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Ouch! Double ouch!
My wallet is in the corner crying softly. I just spent almost $800 in the last seven hours! Fortunately, I'll be reimbursed for $75 to cover the cost of my required Pediatric Advanced Life Support (PALS) renewal course, but I'm left alone to cover the $670 for my USMLE Step 3 exam. All doctors have to take this test at some point to be licensed, and I decided today that I have been putting it off long enough,so I started the registration process online. The test covers all the medical specialties, and I'm already a year and a half out of medical school (yikes!). I forgotten SO MUCH about grown ups in that time (but learned so much about peds in that time as well), so I used $35 to buy this book to help me prepare. I figured it was worth the investment not to have to take the exam again! :)
Online registration for this exam as well as for licensure later has not been fun, so I have the new show "The Moment of Truth" on in the background. This show is CRAZY. I came in twenty minutes late, but I cannot believe how uncomfortable this is. The distance these people are willing to go just to earn money is heartbreaking. One question asked a man married for 2 1/2 years, "Is the reason you've put off having kids because you're not sure Catia (his wife) is your lifetime partner?" He answered "Yes" right in front of his wife! And it was true! Several questions later he was asked a question regarding whether he had ever touched a woman more than he had to as a personal trainer. He answered "No" -- but it was false! NO amount of money was worth the damage that couple did to their marriage tonight. Absolutely heartbreaking.
I'm still plodding away at these online forms. How much data can they really want about me? I also had to go find a 2"x2" picture of myself to mail in with my application -- ugh. Now I have to find a notary to prove I am who I say I am. The fun times of being a resident never end!
Online registration for this exam as well as for licensure later has not been fun, so I have the new show "The Moment of Truth" on in the background. This show is CRAZY. I came in twenty minutes late, but I cannot believe how uncomfortable this is. The distance these people are willing to go just to earn money is heartbreaking. One question asked a man married for 2 1/2 years, "Is the reason you've put off having kids because you're not sure Catia (his wife) is your lifetime partner?" He answered "Yes" right in front of his wife! And it was true! Several questions later he was asked a question regarding whether he had ever touched a woman more than he had to as a personal trainer. He answered "No" -- but it was false! NO amount of money was worth the damage that couple did to their marriage tonight. Absolutely heartbreaking.
I'm still plodding away at these online forms. How much data can they really want about me? I also had to go find a 2"x2" picture of myself to mail in with my application -- ugh. Now I have to find a notary to prove I am who I say I am. The fun times of being a resident never end!
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Doctora!
Today I left work at 2:30. Before you think to yourself, "Wow, that is a short day," consider that I arrived in my parking garage shortly before 6 AM and spent my day in the Neonatal ICU taking care of some pretty sick kiddos (plus I really hate mornings). Yuck.
We needed a few things from the store, so I stopped at one of my favorite Targets on the way home from work. This particular Target frequently has wonderful clearance deals, and those who know me know how much I love a good bargain. I was wondering through the aisles looking for a warm pair of slippers when I heard a lady whispering loudly in Spanish right behind me. I speak a decent amount of Spanish, and that amount goes up when the words are spoken slowly. This lady, however, was chatting at breakneck speed, but I was able to understand one word very easily: "Doctora!"
I continued to amble down the aisle, thinking that perhaps she was just pointing me out to her son because I was still in my scrubs or that seeing me reminded her to make a doctor's appointment for later. No such luck. Suddenly I hear a male voice saying, "Excuse me." I turn around to find myself with the whispering lady and her almost pubertal son. She shoves 2 pregnancy tests in my face -- an EPT test and a Target brand test. Her son asks, "Do these two do the same thing? Are they the tests to tell you if you are pregnant?"
Wow. AWKWARD!! I told them something to the effect of this: "I think they do, but I'm not an OB, so I'm not sure." I make it a practice not to give medical advice outside of the hospital; I watched my dad miss too many church services as a child because people caught him outside the sanctuary doors and wanted to run a free clinic in the Sunday School classrooms, and I just want to be "Mrs." not "Dr." when I'm not at work. I also wasn't about to get into pregnancy counseling with a woman who doesn't speak my language using her twelve year old son as our interpreter. I listened to her son translate an extremely abbreviated version of what I said to his mom, and she smiled, thanked me, and walked away. I don't know which test she ended up choosing, but I hopes she goes to see her own doctor.
I walked away and wandered into another section of the store before it hit me just how laughable the situation was. I immediately grabbed my phone to text a few people about it. My mom's phone cut the message into 2 messages, and she accidentally opened up the 2nd one first. All she saw was "2 pregnancy tests ... This is my life!" She was smart enough to read the first one before calling me up, but when we did talk a few minutes later, we had a good laugh about her thinking I was sharing some important news over a text message! (For the curious, no, there is no baby on board here.)
We needed a few things from the store, so I stopped at one of my favorite Targets on the way home from work. This particular Target frequently has wonderful clearance deals, and those who know me know how much I love a good bargain. I was wondering through the aisles looking for a warm pair of slippers when I heard a lady whispering loudly in Spanish right behind me. I speak a decent amount of Spanish, and that amount goes up when the words are spoken slowly. This lady, however, was chatting at breakneck speed, but I was able to understand one word very easily: "Doctora!"
I continued to amble down the aisle, thinking that perhaps she was just pointing me out to her son because I was still in my scrubs or that seeing me reminded her to make a doctor's appointment for later. No such luck. Suddenly I hear a male voice saying, "Excuse me." I turn around to find myself with the whispering lady and her almost pubertal son. She shoves 2 pregnancy tests in my face -- an EPT test and a Target brand test. Her son asks, "Do these two do the same thing? Are they the tests to tell you if you are pregnant?"
Wow. AWKWARD!! I told them something to the effect of this: "I think they do, but I'm not an OB, so I'm not sure." I make it a practice not to give medical advice outside of the hospital; I watched my dad miss too many church services as a child because people caught him outside the sanctuary doors and wanted to run a free clinic in the Sunday School classrooms, and I just want to be "Mrs." not "Dr." when I'm not at work. I also wasn't about to get into pregnancy counseling with a woman who doesn't speak my language using her twelve year old son as our interpreter. I listened to her son translate an extremely abbreviated version of what I said to his mom, and she smiled, thanked me, and walked away. I don't know which test she ended up choosing, but I hopes she goes to see her own doctor.
I walked away and wandered into another section of the store before it hit me just how laughable the situation was. I immediately grabbed my phone to text a few people about it. My mom's phone cut the message into 2 messages, and she accidentally opened up the 2nd one first. All she saw was "2 pregnancy tests ... This is my life!" She was smart enough to read the first one before calling me up, but when we did talk a few minutes later, we had a good laugh about her thinking I was sharing some important news over a text message! (For the curious, no, there is no baby on board here.)
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Tired
I haven't worked much for the last several days, but I am just tired. It's a little after 1 PM, and I'm still in my sweats, snuggled up on the couch with the cuddliest dog ever and watching Food Network. I had a horrible headache Tuesday afternoon, so after heading home from the grocery store, I did nothing productive that day. Hubby and I had dinner with some friends Tuesday night, and I managed to keep the headache at bay that evening (thanks, Aleve!). We finally got the coat of primer and one coat of paint up on the first wall yesterday evening, and it looks SO GOOD. If his job gives him enough time today, we will try to get a second coat up on the wall and start on another wall. His job has been working him to the bone, so we may not get to do as much as I had hoped. It's back to work for me tomorrow, and then Hubby leaves early Monday morning for yet another trip to Philadelphia. I switch to PICU nights 1 week from Sunday, so little to nothing will be accomplished for 2 weeks following that.
Hopefully I can get my bootie off the couch soon and start to be at least semi-productive. My brother bought me The Barefoot Contessa at Home cookbook for Christmas, so tonight I will be making a delicious chicken piccata. I'll be using my breadmaker to make dough for focaccia bread too, so hopefully Hubby will be able to take a short break for dinner. :)
I haven't blogged about work lately, but I'm still loving it. Kids are awesome, and watching my clinic patients growing up in front of me is one of the coolest experiences of my life. I'm having a bit of an emotional time right now because we've lost several children to cancer lately. Even when I haven't seen these kids in a while, I still feel a connection to them and to their families. I'm probably just a faceless resident to them, but losing these kids still affects me.
That's about it for now; I think Sebastian and I will hang out for a bit more before I head down to the kitchen to do something worthwhile!
Hopefully I can get my bootie off the couch soon and start to be at least semi-productive. My brother bought me The Barefoot Contessa at Home cookbook for Christmas, so tonight I will be making a delicious chicken piccata. I'll be using my breadmaker to make dough for focaccia bread too, so hopefully Hubby will be able to take a short break for dinner. :)
I haven't blogged about work lately, but I'm still loving it. Kids are awesome, and watching my clinic patients growing up in front of me is one of the coolest experiences of my life. I'm having a bit of an emotional time right now because we've lost several children to cancer lately. Even when I haven't seen these kids in a while, I still feel a connection to them and to their families. I'm probably just a faceless resident to them, but losing these kids still affects me.
That's about it for now; I think Sebastian and I will hang out for a bit more before I head down to the kitchen to do something worthwhile!
Monday, January 14, 2008
Motivation
My schedule this week has worked out so that I had the weekend off and did not have to go to work today. Tomorrow I just have a meeting at lunch, Wednesday I have afternoon clinic, and then I have Thursday off as well. I will definitely be making up for this week later, but it's worth it right now.
Because of my free time, I was able to participate in my church's 15/15 prayer experience. Starting eight days ago, we have committed to having 15 people per day pray for 1 hour each for 15 days, and I was blessed to be able to go up to my church and pray this morning at 8 AM. Those who know me well know that I am NOT a morning person. I HATE mornings with a passion. God knew this and thought it would be funny to have me marry one of the world's biggest morning people, so when Hubby is in town, there are many mornings when his cheery greetings receive grunts in reply.
When I signed up for this, I saw open spots later in the day, but I wanted this to be a sacrifice, so while 8 AM really isn't that early and I have often been at work for a few hours by then, I still struggled to get out of bed and be ready on time today. To be honest, I was a little worried about how I would be able to pray for an hour straight, but as I started whispering to Him, He continued to bring people to my mind, and I actually worried that I had gone over and was holding someone else up (I was close but not over). This morning was one of the most beautiful experiences I have had in a while, and I am immensely thankful that my God is so wonderfully large and yet amazingly intimate at the same time.
In another direction, I've also become motivated to use my days off to continue my efforts to turn our house into a home. We went to Lowe's tonight and bought the supplies to start painting some of the rooms. Those of you who have been to our house may have noticed that many of the rooms and walls flow together, so painting has posed a problem since there are few natural breaking points in the house. I love how open everything feels, but it's been a challenge to figure out how to decorate and paint. We've decided to paint the game room a lovely shade called "Belgian Chocolate," but unfortunately the Lowe's near us did not have the correct base for the paint. We tried it in another base, but it looked more like chocolate milk rather than Belgian Chocolate, so we're holding off. Hubby has taped off most of the first wall for me, so tomorrow I will be priming the wall before I head in for my meeting and will hopefully find the correct paint at another Lowe's. I'll just have to remember that this is indeed paint and not liquid chocolate. ;)
Because of my free time, I was able to participate in my church's 15/15 prayer experience. Starting eight days ago, we have committed to having 15 people per day pray for 1 hour each for 15 days, and I was blessed to be able to go up to my church and pray this morning at 8 AM. Those who know me well know that I am NOT a morning person. I HATE mornings with a passion. God knew this and thought it would be funny to have me marry one of the world's biggest morning people, so when Hubby is in town, there are many mornings when his cheery greetings receive grunts in reply.
When I signed up for this, I saw open spots later in the day, but I wanted this to be a sacrifice, so while 8 AM really isn't that early and I have often been at work for a few hours by then, I still struggled to get out of bed and be ready on time today. To be honest, I was a little worried about how I would be able to pray for an hour straight, but as I started whispering to Him, He continued to bring people to my mind, and I actually worried that I had gone over and was holding someone else up (I was close but not over). This morning was one of the most beautiful experiences I have had in a while, and I am immensely thankful that my God is so wonderfully large and yet amazingly intimate at the same time.
In another direction, I've also become motivated to use my days off to continue my efforts to turn our house into a home. We went to Lowe's tonight and bought the supplies to start painting some of the rooms. Those of you who have been to our house may have noticed that many of the rooms and walls flow together, so painting has posed a problem since there are few natural breaking points in the house. I love how open everything feels, but it's been a challenge to figure out how to decorate and paint. We've decided to paint the game room a lovely shade called "Belgian Chocolate," but unfortunately the Lowe's near us did not have the correct base for the paint. We tried it in another base, but it looked more like chocolate milk rather than Belgian Chocolate, so we're holding off. Hubby has taped off most of the first wall for me, so tomorrow I will be priming the wall before I head in for my meeting and will hopefully find the correct paint at another Lowe's. I'll just have to remember that this is indeed paint and not liquid chocolate. ;)
Sunday, January 13, 2008
The aroma of freshly baked bread is wafting through my house
Dillards has been running an amazing clearance sale this week. I have been contemplating a bread machine for quite some time but haven't been able to bring myself to buy one. It is hardly a necessity, and the cheapest decent one I could find was a little over $60 at Bed, Bath, and Beyond. On Thursday I stopped by Dillards to get some necessary undergarments and made my usual stroll through the home section. There I happened upon a bread machine originally priced at $70 reduced to $50; on top of this, they had just marked it down another $15. I pulled out my Dillards giftcard that I'd been saving for a while, and I had almost $30 left on it. Add in a little tax, and I only paid $8.13 for a beautiful little bread machine!
I've already made one loaf of white (almost gone) and just finished a loaf of honey wheat a few hours ago. The house smells soooo good right now. I think I'm going to try a loaf of French bread tomorrow. This machine is so fun!
I've already made one loaf of white (almost gone) and just finished a loaf of honey wheat a few hours ago. The house smells soooo good right now. I think I'm going to try a loaf of French bread tomorrow. This machine is so fun!
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