Passing

In the field I work, I deal with death and the dying process quite often. Today I felt the touch of a cold hand and the waxy feel of a womans forehead as I kissed her good bye. I have done this several times, probably more than I can count. I have held a hand and said my good byes, or occasionally I have kissed the departed on the forehead depending on how close I was to the person or how much of a connection I developed with them before the inevitable occurred. Today was different. I've always felt a little sad. More for the family left behind than the person who now is resting quietly before me. Today I could not contain my tears. Also a rarity, I hate crying especially in front of people.

I had worked with this woman a few times in recent months as her frequency of admissions became closer and closer together. She had no reserves left in her body to rely on save her will. Even up to this last week her will was like iron. Then it began to rust as she cried inwardly. She knew she could no go on the way she was. No miracle of modern medicine exists that could save her. No matter how diligently we manned the oxygen there was no way to adjust it so she could catch her breath. No amount of breathing treatments or medications would fix the damage done to her body.

From the minute she had her only child, a son, she lived for him. She stayed in a marriage with a man who was less than good to her because he was at least good to his son. She endured cruelty and pain at her spouses hand all for him. When she came in to see us, she would have several sibling visiting her but the first and last person she would ask about was her son. Mind you her son is now grown and more than capable of taking care of himself. Still she held on and struggled to live to be there in case he were to need her, to protect him.

On Saturday I went to work to find her back in the same bed she was discharged from by me on Thursday. I learned she was gone less than 12 hours, the sheets barely had cooled before she was back to lie in them again. Saturday was a struggle back and forth between consciousness and a near coma like sleep. She could not maintain the needed balance between oxygen and carbon dioxide in her blood to stay in either the waking world or that of a lost sole in a coma.

Sunday when I arrived she was still with us, no code had been called.Even if it had we would not have been able to bring her back from the edge. Her heart was showing increasingly tell tale signs of exhaustion throughout the night. She had few choices and none of them good. I told her I wished I had better news to give her. She said bitterly "There is no good news." The choices were the ventilator she would never come off once one and which she had already said absolutely not to. Or, the Bipap (noninvasive mask) to help her but this would only be a temporary option. She is claustrophobic, severely. She turned us down over and over then finally gave us 1 hour to try the mask after 5-6 hours of asking her to please try it. 2 1/2hrs later she was awake enough to tell us no more and she was angry she had been on for more than the 1 hours she had agreed to. She was only awake for 20 minutes of the 2.5 hrs to know she was on the mask. No more mask, no more being uncomfortable. If she was going to die it would be without being scared and wearing a mask or any other thing she didn't want.

Her son was now ready, so was she. He asked of his mother one final favor, one final feat of strength. "Please don't die on my birthday." His birthday was yesterday. She passed after midnight. Until the end she lived for her son.

I too live for my son. I hope I may keep him safe. I do not have the same struggles she had but I feel her same plight of wanting nothing but to be there for her child no matter what. RIP.

The erection story.

The girls and rare guy at work share stories about their kids pretty much on a daily basis. This is what parents do. More to say how proud we are of our children than to embarrass them but inevitably it happens from time to time. Today was one of those days. Names of course will be altered to protect the families privacy.

One of the most inspiring women I know told this story I might add. Hopefully she knows just how amazing she really is and is told often enough to believe it through and through. Let's call her Vicky. He sons name will be Charlie. Charlie came home one day with a question he had to ask his mom. He wasn't sure how to approach it so he asked if her could ask a grown up question. Vicky asked if it was grown up or mature? "Mature", Charlie said. "Ok what's your question?" "Mom, I really hate it when I get erections, what do I do about it how do I get rid of them? I really hate it when I get them at school." Vicky is a nurse and had to ask questions to try to help her son out who was obviously disturbed by this bothersome occurrence in nature. "Well Charlie, does this happen in response to something?" "What do you mean, like what" Charlie says sounding a little indignant. "Well, like a picture or a girl or certain thought or something like that." "NO!, It just pops up out of the blue like this. (Imagine a 12 year old boy holding his index finger in the said position over his crotch) And then it won't go away!" "Well Charlie, how often is this happening?" "Like once or twice a day when I'm at school and sometimes in the morning too! How do I get rid of it cuz it's really embarrassing and I don't know what to do!" "Well, what do you do about now when it happens?" "I don't know, I kind of bend over like this (leaning over his knee's and pulling his pants out a little) and I pull my shirt down like this (pulling his shirt over his groin) and I put my leg up on the railing of the chair like this (extending his leg forward on the imaginary school chair railing). OH!, Oh and I don't get up!"

By this time we are all rolling at the cuteness and hilarity of his predicament. Poor boy. I might add none of us working today have a preteen boy,... yet.

Vicky goes on to tell her son that it sounds like he's got a good idea but she's not really the best person to ask since she doesn't have a penis or erections and maybe he should go ask his dad. LOL Dad response, "Uhhhh I think you've got a pretty good handle on it and what ever you do don't touch it!"

I love it! Hearing of the things to come is the best. I do have a 1/2 brother to my son that has had some questions from time to time. Being as I am not mom, or dad I seem to be a safe outlet for questions. I'm just glad he talks to me at all at age 17! He makes me proud daily as does my son. He has some great ideas for future embarrassing moments for his little brother too. Thanks for being you young man, you will do well in life.

Mack Daddy Mathew

Again, here I am with the amazing stories of a growing boy. I had always been told boys/men were just born the way they are and by this I mean, well...pigs. Now, I am truly starting to believe. Sadly, it is by watching my sweet little baby grow into a sweet little boy with a piggish side. Examples, he likes boobies. A lot. As in patting a total stranger at the Minnesota fair on the rather well endowed chest and saying "Boobie!" Poor girl was mortified, almost as much as I was.

Example number two, disrobing the day care providers chest, also well endowed I might add. She was never so embarrassed she said.

Example number three, and I warned her! My coworker at a pool party got the full frontal exam except he wasn't letting go. He held on like those were the last grips on a 200ft cliff between him and dropping to his death. Again, poor girl.

So enough with the breast examples, however I must also add my father has been no help in chastising him. "Do it while you can kid, some day they'll slap you for it!" DAD!

In that last month he has begun to make me wonder if I will have to deal with a precocious puberty situation or what.

Example one. A teenage girl showed up at the skate park in her full gear, (good girl, helmet & pads) and the next thing I know Mathew has taken off his shirt and is strutting around flexing his muscles. Oh my GOD who taught you this???

Example two. A VS catalog shows up this week and he points to a girl and says, "Mommy! I like hur butt, I like dat giwls butt!" I tried not to laugh, or choke for that matter. "Oh, you do do you?" Mathew, "Yeah, I wanna get in hur butt!" This time the choke was not preventable and neither was the strangling of the shriek that came to my throat. WHO TAUGHT YOU THAT??

This evening was a saving moment to remind me he is still a sweet little boy after all the uh ohs. He played with a little girl at the park he is in Pre K with. Very sweetly and nothing shocking, however he was still workin' the Mojo. He and his friend held hands as they slid down the skateboarding ramp. She bossed him around and he obliged. He would call to her to "Come ovah heya" (here) and she did. Then she showed him her boo boo on her shin and he leaned over to kiss it for her to make it better. AWE! She looked at him with a puppy love smile. That is more the speed it should be. Innocent, cute and not talk of getting into someones butt!

Speaking peanut

So, as I have mentioned previously, my son is language delayed and has some difficulty with consonants. F in particular comes to mind as well as some softer sounds, sh sounds and th. So while in the bath tub this evening he carefully lay a wash cloth at the bottom of the tub to catch his toys as he watched them each float gently to the bottom to land on the cloth. As each toy sank he sang their names, "Cwab, cwab cwab, cwab!" Or crab. Then it was "Budderfwy, budderfwy, budderfwy!" butterfly and lastly "Shitty, shitty, shitty, shitty!!" This is fishy. Every time we go to the pet store, the aquarium, the Dr.'s office the use sports equipment store, you name it, "Mommy, I wanna see da shitty, peeeeeaasee! I wanna pet dat shitty!" And try he has. Despite repeated attempts to explain that he cannot pet a F-F-F-F-FIIISH like a kitty or a doggie he has tried anyway. Winter jacket on the floor, sleeve up to his armpit and hand in the tank up to the sleeve trying to catch the fish at the sporting goods store, check done that. Two of the four fish in his 1/2 brothers fish tank caught and sufficiently "pet" until they got really relaxed and no longer were "awake", also done. Poor shitty's RIP.

What IS wrong with people anyway??

So I go to a job that has been greatly affected by the new Health Care maelstrom that is Mr. Obama's idea of health care reform. It has made the environment very politically charged. I understand that he has good intentions behind his ambitions. I do like the man and I have no room to bitch because I have done nothing to help resolve the issues at hand. I do however have some serious concerns about how the new reimbursements will affect the clientèle (I) we serve. People with CHF tend to see us 2-5 times a year for a few days stay. They have hearts that just can't do the work they used to do in most cases. Others they have brains that can't wrap around the idea that they need to be responsible for their DIET and prescribed MEDICATIONS and end up in by not being responsible for their failing health.

It is a touchy subject to deal with. There needs to be a level of personal accountability included in all the reforms for people who use public finds of any kind or any insurance for that matter. These topics are rarely discussed, and when brought to the forefront they frustrate the crap out of 95% of people I meet. If so many people are aware of these issues, why are people so afraid to take the bull by the horns and say it out loud? The political scene seems to avoid things based on popularity only, never facing what really needs to be done.

Let me preface this with I am the one who sticks her neck out, her foot in her mouth, and asks the harder questions. Yet things get blown out of the water as it is the wrong time to discuss the topic or not being appropriate to discuss at all. Later the same day, guess what people are whispering about?? You got it, the same things I brought up out loud.

What IS wrong with people anyway? They are so worried about the horns on the bull they don't realize the bull has them by the balls and isn't going to let go. He's strong and not as dumb as we think he is. The bull has learned how to use this to his advantage.

I am for drug testing to get your monthly check/food stamps/subsidy, what ever. I am for accountability for our own health damn it. WE KNOW what is and isn't good for us and when we do the wrong thing WE are responsible for the consequences not everyone else. I am for telling the public the truth about what they are doing to their body without corporations or industries being behind the information put out there. Processed food IS bad for you. Preservatives are not supposed to be in your body. REAL FOOD is better for you than things from a box/can/package. It DOES cost less to eat better than it does to eat like shit your whole life then suffer the consequences later. There is no magic pill to fix all the stuff you broke in your body over all those years! Being lazy and sitting in front of the TV, computer or whatever is not normal for our bodies. WE as a NATION are FAT and DUMB. WE are selfish, WE are SUPERFICIAL, we are GLUTTONOUS, WE ARE LAZY. There are exceptions to these things out there but not many. WE DO NOT care about our neighbors the way we used to. Hell we hardly even know them anymore and we live 100 feet or less from them.

WE are not accountable for our actions anymore and sue other people for stupid things WE do. Coffee is hot, sharp things do cut you, cars are dangerous, alcohol is deadly, smoking is bad for you and everyone around you. Parents are SUPPOSED to be responsible for their children. People we trust to care for them NEED TO do just that, care for them not abuse them. These are just a few of the things wrong with us today.

Learning to speak Peanut

My son is language delayed. I've had almost every test done out there to find out how his hearing is, and if there is any other source but no, just taking his sweet time. That's ok. I hear form one person after the other "You'll have a day when you wish he was quiet again." Are they high?? I love to hear his little voice, it's absolutely adorable and the words he says are so fun. He has selective consonant trouble it seems. He can say fwy for fly yet he says shit for fish. Hmm. Not sure how this whole situation will work out as the clarity comes along but it's fun to see him grow in his language skills.

Yesterday, he found a stick he just had to have. After we finished up at the park he wanted to take it with him. He says to me, "Mommy, I wanna take my dick home." HAHAHA! That was great. I know it's his stick, not his ahem, other parts but seriously it's hard sometimes not to laugh.

Emotional mommy

I noticed after I became a mother I'm far more emotional than I used to be. Is this what hormones and children do to you??? WOW!!! I can cry at the drop of a hat and have no good reason sometimes. I heard a song today and it was about a mother dying and her children being with her as she took her last breath. Tears!

All I could think about was what would I leave my son if I died tomorrow? Where would he go? Who would take care of him? How would he live with the pain of losing me? That was awful.

So immediately I had to stop listening to music with any substance or meaning and go straight for the crappy stuff.

I never cried like this before I had my baby. How do you make it stop or do you?s