Hands

Demons.

Atonement.

We all have them and we all make it - we just need to remember that the person next to us is probably in the same boat and not to judge (lest we be judged ;S). I think that this is why we were given two hands: one to reach out with and one to grasp someone else's who is reaching.

Letting Go

What is Running From Safety?

So what exactly is Running From Safety?

I used to think that it was what I spent the later part of childhood and early adulthood doing - basically literally running from safety. I migrated towards just about every self-destructive mode of behavior that you could imagine, yet somehow I couldn't bear to hear four little words from my mom: "You have disappointed me." Those words would crush me because I knew how well I deserved them. So I learned how to run faster and more quietly. Pretty soon I lost myself. I wound up in Hell.

Then I made it back.

Now I've discovered a whole new meaning to those three little words. I watched my mom. I learned from my sister. I discovered that sometimes to learn to fly you have to step from the safe edge of the cliff.

I climbed that cliff - all the way to the top. I had started at the bottom by getting dismissed from University - twice. Now that took talent! Actually the first time I was running. The second time, well, that's another story but I was trying to get back on my feet. During the summer I worked as a pool manager, and each day I'd pass a rose seller on the street corner and think to myself that that was going to be me one day. I'd buy roses when I could.

My first length up the cliff was getting through EMT school - I figured that as an EMT I would not wind up selling roses on the street corner. My first run after I graduated was a hit & run. It was my rose seller. There was nothing that we could do for her. Mom told me that maybe she was one of Buddy's Angels, and that she'd done what she had been sent to do so she was able to go home. It still left a hole.

The next length up the cliff was getting back into college & getting my degree. Three years and another city later mom made me go to my graduation because she never thought that she'd see it. It was a school and family joke for awhile that I'd been dropped off for a Physics final in full gear by the volunteer fire department that I worked with, straight from a fire reeking of smoke. I graduated though with a double Bachelor's.

Another length of the cliff passed and I found myself working in a field that I truly loved. It had been 18 years since I crossed over into it, the call was brutal, we were getting busier, and many times I'd call my husband to tell him that I'd be sleeping at the hospital. Then a hand-hold crumbled - I was driving home one morning after working two 23 hour shifts. I needed to take my meds and I thought that I was fine but I fell asleep. The car was totaled and I was released to my husband - a nurse. Evidently I did *not* want to go back to the hospital. My director put me back on call that evening after giving me the rest of the day off - the next three days I don't remember, only that I was taking care of patients.

Something had to change. Stay at the top of the rock (there was nowhere else to go.... or was there?) It was safe up there. Yeah, right. Not for me, not for my patients. If I can't make a simple decision like was I safe to drive, and we had no place where we could get some real rest then it was time to jump.

I jumped.

And fell.

And flew.

I had no idea what to do or what, if anything I was worth when I took that leap from the safety of the everyday of my job, but I learned.

I went back to "class" - online - and got certified as a medical coder. Then I got offered a position (from home). Now I code, audit, teach and love just about every minute of it! There's always more to learn if I want and I am in control of my own schedule. 

I ran from safety just like my mom did - she went back to school at 55 and had her PhD by 65, just like my sister did - left a position at a college and found another one half way across the country and has become a better teacher than even my mom was, and will keep running as long as I can!

Stone

Renci de Shangdi, qing dai wo zou.
Wo xiang mei er, mei xin, bian shitou.

Lori Petty

Quote from Lori Petty:

[on the effect The Poker House rape scene had on its viewers] 

"I had a girl come up to me, and she's like "I'm a rape survivor." I said, "No you're not. Stop that." She's like, "What?" She's 17 and came up to me after the movie. She said, "I was raped at 14." I said, "That stupid ass man did a fucked up thing. It has nothing to do with you. You are not tarnished, you are not changed, you are fine. He's fucked up. You're fine." Her eyes opened.

100 Years

As I was talking with my husband and sisters-in-law on Sunday I recalled more wisdom from my mother:

Think forward 100 years. Now, is this immediate issue, heartache or headache going to matter?

Cheyne Stokes

Cheyne Stokes

• by Ironmountain01, Feb 22, 2014, 8:57:18 PM
• Literature / Prose / Non-Fiction / Biography & Memoir / Stories & Vignettes

Cheyne Stokes


That was how it started at least. I was sitting in the chair next to his bed and all of a sudden (sudden? how could he have just... slipped?) he was in cheyne stokes.

I dropped the head of his bed down, checked his pulse (Tony! Where was Tony? This was supposed to be Telemetry!) and began...

One and two and three and ...

(Where is everyone? I shouldn't be here!)

Four and five and six and...

(Where is the cart?)

Seven and eight and -

Tony came falling through the door, took one look, called Code and went for the ambu-bag - which wasn't there.

Nine and ten and eleven and -

And Tony just began to breathe for the man lying there - no equipment, no protection, just mouth on mouth - basic, no bells & whistles, just life.

I felt the old man's ribs crack, saw him bounce on the hard mattress with each thrust of my palms, saw the sweat bead on Tony's forehead but none of that mattered - nothing mattered except keeping the blood flowing through the old man's heart and brain.

The team finally arrived (with the cart) and the doctor asked for the old man's history. He looked at each of his nurses expectantly and then settled on me, sweating in my light blue scrubs. (I really shouldn't be here.)

"Can you contribute anything or are you just going to stand there doing compressions?"

"This man is a Psychiatrist from Corpus Christi (two and three and), up for his 21st wedding anniversary(six and seven). He has a partial bowel obstruction (nine and) which is his chief complaint(eleven and twelve and). He's been on chemotherapy (fifteen) for the last 14 years as well as (two and three and) radiation therapy for throat cancer, lung cancer, (seven and) skin cancer, prostate cancer, bladder cancer stomach cancer and colon cancer(ten and eleven and). He has a clipped seventh cervical nerve. His admission was yesterday (one and)." Everyone stared at me as I kept doing compressions while I rattled out the old man's impressive but unfortunate history. WHY was I still there?

Finally someone tapped me on the shoulder and asked if I needed relief and I jumped! It was my chance to step back from the old man lying on that bed. I nodded, counted off, and began to quietly slip from the room.

I was almost to the doctor when he looked at me and said "Well, this man's fucked, just put on a good show for the family." It was the hardest thing to look him in the eye, then past him as I left the room.

"That was his daughter" the nurse said as I finally left the room.