Usually whenever I go to Korea, I know by the time I leave why it was that I was there. You know how it goes; you meet folks, friendships are formed. Or maybe impact is made when lives collide. This last time though, no experience specifically stuck out. There just didn't seem to be a special defining moment when I realized my purpose for going there this particular time. So, I'll just tell one random little incident (out of many).
I was returning back to my apartment from the airport. I had just seen" Mr. Sunny" off and was hoping to get back in time for him to call me before boarding. This ended up not happening because I wanted to see how long the trip would take by subway system. Too long! Guess I should have taken the bus. Before I realized all that, and was still trying to hurry along, we all had to get off the train at the end of one line and transfer to another one in a different part of the station. I was just sort of following the crowd when they all started running. I know what that means-the next train is about to take off. I chased after them and sure enough, the next train was literally MOVING by the time I jumped in. The door closing almost caught my foot and I actually caught some serious air landing in a seat almost on some guys lap as the train sped off.
Usually I am overly cautious around crowds and fast moving objects. "So unlike me" I was thinking, when I heard a voice speaking to me. It was the guy who almost got me on his lap. I knew it was me he was addressing because he spoke in flawless English. Looking around I could see no one else that anyone would assume was illiterate in Korean.
"Now, do you even know where you are going?" He inquired kindly.
I didn't take a bit of offense. After all, they had all seen me risk my life jumping on a moving train. Anybody that dumb probably doesn't have a clue where she is going. So, I did another uncharacteristic thing. I told him where I was going and which transfers I'd be taking. I never do that because, having been followed, I am wary of letting strangers know my destination. But, he seemed sincere enough.
He nodded hiis approval and explained, "I thought I'd make sure since I'll be getting off in two stops."
Then he tried to help me practise a little Korean. Until he gave up on me. When we arrived at his station he nudged the fellow beside him and started to to stand up. Aforementioned fellow did not budge-gave no indication that he was even aware of his surroundings. Mr. Hospitality sighed and settled back in his seat resignedly.
"Why didn't you get out?" I demanded - a little too sharply considering he had no idea that I'd ever been stalked.
"I think I'd better stay with my friend here," he murmured quietly.
For the first time I took a good look at his traveling companion. The man looked pathetic. Pale faced with head in his hands. He appeared to have been crying.
"What's the matter with him?" I gasped. (Yeah, I am the epitome of tact.)
The story came out. It was marital trouble. It wasn't quite as bad as "after 25 good years together they had their first big fight", but she had been recently suckered in to one of these off-shoot religions where they want all your money. Since she had no job, she was handing in all of her husbands savings and there was nothing left for the children's inheritance.
We talked and tsked. Mind you, the guy with the problem wasn't doing any of the actual talking. But, he was engaged in the exchange. He lifted his red rimmed eyes and listened intently to my suggestions. I do believe I saw some actual hope on his face. This is one thing I like about being a bit older in Korea. Age and experience still count for something. Folks actually seek and value your advise and ideas. Not that mine were much good. What could I do? Invite them to come for counseling with the Pastor? As far as they could tell it was religion that caused this mess in the first place! But, maybe it comforted him to have an impartial observer taking his side in his troubles.
"Hey, this is your stop." They gripped my hands briefly in farewell, then called "Goodbye! Goodbye!" as I tripped out the door of the train in the nick of time just before it could slam shut on me.
I think of them sometimes. Wonder if it all worked out. Wonder what their impression was of the 'crazy American'.
Probably they sat there and said, "Think she'll ever make it back to her place in one piece?"
"Not a chance! Hey, that's pretty funny. I'm feeling more cheerful already."
"Me too. Wanna go have some beer together?"
Monday, January 10, 2011
Thursday, January 06, 2011
Sometimes the Heart Knows How
Back in my home-care nursing days I managed to become known as the rescue-er of flattened dogs and lost babies. The baby was when I was on my way to a daily wound care. The patient liked to get her visit over with very early in the morning. Probably because she wasn't being compliant with the required homebound status, but we were on a "don't ask and don't tell" relationship. One day, on the way to her house at about 7 AM, a little tyke in a diaper-and I mean just a diaper and nothing else-dashed across the road in front of all the cars stopped at the red light. He went straight to the entrance of a convenient store. No one seemed the least bit concerned-except me (of course). I parked immediately and fetched him. Asked around, but no one knew him. Called the cops. Helped look for his parents. Soothed him when he was taken away by squad car to the emergency children's home. This was in the days before cell phones, but I used a pay phone to notify the office I'd be running late and they called all my patients for me. Of course I regaled everyone for the rest of the day with tales of my big adventure. All the patients wanted to know ALL the juicy details. For many of them it was the most exciting event of their week. I was hailed as a local hero. After work I called the police station to inquire about the little fellow. They were all like "Is this the nurse from (name of hospital)?" The kid had been re-united with his parents. The officers were openly admiring of my quick thinking and smooth maneuvers to save this child. Situation could've ended much worse.
(I had the fire department like putty in my hands for a while too, but that's whole "nuther story.)
Another time, while on the way to a diabetic's house for her insulin injection, I spied a tiny bit of half-flattened fluff on the street. It was a little dog that had been hit. Still alive but the back legs looked paralyzed. I simply could not stop to call animal control right then. Can't be late for the diabetics you know. So, I scooped him up in a disposable gown, plopped him in a basket that was in the trunk, and took him along to the home visit. It was a hot day and I didn't want to leave him inside the car, so I put him just outside the front door of the patient's house and told the inhabitants to stay away from him. Of course, the husband of my patient completely disobeyed that order, and the little dog BIT him. Boy, animal control sure got involved then! And the administrator on call. And my supervisor. And, probably the board of trustees for all I know. This time they weren't quite so accomodating. "Should have let the d#@n dog die!" (to quote one of my co-workers).
Next I added "savior of run-away kids" to my Curriculum Vitae. It was after I had left doing home-care and gone to the nurse advise line. My supervisor called one evening and asked me to come in and help out at work. For some reason I felt like telling her no. She was surprised. I'm usually flexible. But, I had made plans for a walk in the gently falling snow*, so, I just said "no". On my route I wandered down by the highway-something I rarely do. There, sitting on a large rock, was a good size boy. He smiled at me, and I smiled at him. I said, "I'm Jimmy's mom." He said, "Who is Jimmy?" I said, "Uh, you don't live in this neighborhood, do you?" (Because, come on, EVERYBODY knows Jimmy!) The story came out. He was a runaway. I was afraid he'd run again but it soon became apparent he was too tired to do anything but follow me home. He had already walked at least 8 miles, and probably more since he had lost his way for a while. Poor kid could barely put one foot ahead of the other. We were both wishing I had brought the car instead of heading out on foot. At home I handed him off to Jimmy** to watch TV together and to have someone of his age group to hang out with while we fed him, hydrated him, and called his grandmother in another state-(she alerted the authorities). His mother was duly checked out (she had been arrested for child neglect previously, and the boy didn't know it, but his dad was incarcerated at the time). Everything got worked out and the child did eventually get returned to his home. His grandmother called me the next day with the whole sorry story. Her hands are tied for legal reasons until he turns 18, but, she has every plan to help him as much as possible when she can. She was deeply grateful for our intervention. She kept saying "If the wrong person had picked him up..."
This time, with my reputation already firmly in place, no one was even surprised. In fact they'd be surprised if I WASN'T out on the rescue. Boss said to refuse to come to work any time it seemed a good idea. Figured I should just always follow my intuition.***
*Because big, fat, fluffy snow-flakes that float down softly in warm-enough weather to melt them on contact are NOT the kind that pester me.
**Jimmy really came through too. Later he told us he he had been "kind of surprised" (yeah, I bet!) when a stranger kid was tossed in his room, but he figured we knew what we were doing, so, he'd just go with it.
***But, what's going on? Am I like some kind of magnet for these types situations?
(I know that I am positively a magnet for crazies, but those stories are better left untold...here...yet)
(I had the fire department like putty in my hands for a while too, but that's whole "nuther story.)
Another time, while on the way to a diabetic's house for her insulin injection, I spied a tiny bit of half-flattened fluff on the street. It was a little dog that had been hit. Still alive but the back legs looked paralyzed. I simply could not stop to call animal control right then. Can't be late for the diabetics you know. So, I scooped him up in a disposable gown, plopped him in a basket that was in the trunk, and took him along to the home visit. It was a hot day and I didn't want to leave him inside the car, so I put him just outside the front door of the patient's house and told the inhabitants to stay away from him. Of course, the husband of my patient completely disobeyed that order, and the little dog BIT him. Boy, animal control sure got involved then! And the administrator on call. And my supervisor. And, probably the board of trustees for all I know. This time they weren't quite so accomodating. "Should have let the d#@n dog die!" (to quote one of my co-workers).
Next I added "savior of run-away kids" to my Curriculum Vitae. It was after I had left doing home-care and gone to the nurse advise line. My supervisor called one evening and asked me to come in and help out at work. For some reason I felt like telling her no. She was surprised. I'm usually flexible. But, I had made plans for a walk in the gently falling snow*, so, I just said "no". On my route I wandered down by the highway-something I rarely do. There, sitting on a large rock, was a good size boy. He smiled at me, and I smiled at him. I said, "I'm Jimmy's mom." He said, "Who is Jimmy?" I said, "Uh, you don't live in this neighborhood, do you?" (Because, come on, EVERYBODY knows Jimmy!) The story came out. He was a runaway. I was afraid he'd run again but it soon became apparent he was too tired to do anything but follow me home. He had already walked at least 8 miles, and probably more since he had lost his way for a while. Poor kid could barely put one foot ahead of the other. We were both wishing I had brought the car instead of heading out on foot. At home I handed him off to Jimmy** to watch TV together and to have someone of his age group to hang out with while we fed him, hydrated him, and called his grandmother in another state-(she alerted the authorities). His mother was duly checked out (she had been arrested for child neglect previously, and the boy didn't know it, but his dad was incarcerated at the time). Everything got worked out and the child did eventually get returned to his home. His grandmother called me the next day with the whole sorry story. Her hands are tied for legal reasons until he turns 18, but, she has every plan to help him as much as possible when she can. She was deeply grateful for our intervention. She kept saying "If the wrong person had picked him up..."
This time, with my reputation already firmly in place, no one was even surprised. In fact they'd be surprised if I WASN'T out on the rescue. Boss said to refuse to come to work any time it seemed a good idea. Figured I should just always follow my intuition.***
*Because big, fat, fluffy snow-flakes that float down softly in warm-enough weather to melt them on contact are NOT the kind that pester me.
**Jimmy really came through too. Later he told us he he had been "kind of surprised" (yeah, I bet!) when a stranger kid was tossed in his room, but he figured we knew what we were doing, so, he'd just go with it.
***But, what's going on? Am I like some kind of magnet for these types situations?
(I know that I am positively a magnet for crazies, but those stories are better left untold...here...yet)
Saturday, January 01, 2011
New Year's Resolutions? Who needs 'em?
My "new year's resolutions" (if any) tend to be of the "do-more-of-whatever-I'm-already-in-the-mood-to-do-anyway" variety. But, even that can backfire.... For example, back when I was still rather renown for being a cookie making mama, a certain year was "designated" as THE YEAR OF THE COOKIE. Home-made cookies were delivered so frequently to the pediatrician, kiddie's dentist, school teachers, classroom parties etc., that it got to where no matter what the event, I was assigned to bring the cookies. Many regrets were expressed when I could barely tolerate the aroma of cookies baking anymore and had to give it up. Gave it up for good too.
That's an odor that is still very bothersome.
These days I prefer baking bread. So, when a suggestion was made at work last year that I make a new year's resolution of "baking bread more often", I readily agreed. I've taken bread to work, church, parties, people's homes, and even the homeless shelter..it is always very well received. And why not? Who wouldn't like fresh warm homemade bread from newly ground whole grains? I don't know who doesn't. But, I know who does-me and my family. In fact, we've had so much of it that we are now pretty much ruined for any other kind. Guess what that means. Yep, I'm stuck making bread now whether in the mood or not.
So, it was with some hesitation that I considered the idea that maybe I should determine to work a little less and get back some time for my lately neglected hobbies. Used to be I'd take photos and write up little things and put it all on blog posts. In fact, not too many years ago, as my blogs can testify, I took my brand new Christmas-gift camera out every single morning between Christmas and New Years to capture the sunrise. (We were having luscious, lovely, unseasonably warm weather that year.) Lately I don't even bother to take the camera along on hikes. If time is limited and a choice has to be made between taking a walk or taking pictures, I'll take the walk. These thoughts were running through my mind yesterday morning as I cautiously peered out to determine if we were in for another gloomy day of disgusting, nasty, frigid, slippery, slushy winter weather. The portion of sky visable from the slightly open bathroom window was surprisingly... clear with a nice sliver of white moon adjacent to that big old bright morning star. And, right between them was a shiny jet plane with contrails as bright as the moon from picking up the reflection of the sun which was still hidden far beyond the eastern horizen. In times past this sight would have had me dashing for the camera while mentally composing some sassy-sounding comment for a blog post. But, with the reality of the bitterly cold outside air in my face, the only place I dashed for was a quick dive back under the blankets. Apparently blogging and all that is low on the priority list right now. NOT gonna be happening. I'll just re-cycle some of my old stories and pictures for facebook. Watch for them in the "notes" section. (Or, just eventually find them all from www.easternsierrasunshine.blogspot.com -a blog I highly recommend, BTW.)
However...insisting on working less hours certainly turned out to be a very good decision one time previously...story coming soon.
Now my blogger friends, if any of you have made it this far into these ramblings, I suggest you get a new year's resolution of spending less time on - line. Excluding reading my posts, of course. THAT'S time well spent!
Signing off with a photo. Not a particularily seasonal one... I have to focus on the beauty of this place so the weather does not make me crazy. (Snow and cold=Blech!)
That's an odor that is still very bothersome.
These days I prefer baking bread. So, when a suggestion was made at work last year that I make a new year's resolution of "baking bread more often", I readily agreed. I've taken bread to work, church, parties, people's homes, and even the homeless shelter..it is always very well received. And why not? Who wouldn't like fresh warm homemade bread from newly ground whole grains? I don't know who doesn't. But, I know who does-me and my family. In fact, we've had so much of it that we are now pretty much ruined for any other kind. Guess what that means. Yep, I'm stuck making bread now whether in the mood or not.
So, it was with some hesitation that I considered the idea that maybe I should determine to work a little less and get back some time for my lately neglected hobbies. Used to be I'd take photos and write up little things and put it all on blog posts. In fact, not too many years ago, as my blogs can testify, I took my brand new Christmas-gift camera out every single morning between Christmas and New Years to capture the sunrise. (We were having luscious, lovely, unseasonably warm weather that year.) Lately I don't even bother to take the camera along on hikes. If time is limited and a choice has to be made between taking a walk or taking pictures, I'll take the walk. These thoughts were running through my mind yesterday morning as I cautiously peered out to determine if we were in for another gloomy day of disgusting, nasty, frigid, slippery, slushy winter weather. The portion of sky visable from the slightly open bathroom window was surprisingly... clear with a nice sliver of white moon adjacent to that big old bright morning star. And, right between them was a shiny jet plane with contrails as bright as the moon from picking up the reflection of the sun which was still hidden far beyond the eastern horizen. In times past this sight would have had me dashing for the camera while mentally composing some sassy-sounding comment for a blog post. But, with the reality of the bitterly cold outside air in my face, the only place I dashed for was a quick dive back under the blankets. Apparently blogging and all that is low on the priority list right now. NOT gonna be happening. I'll just re-cycle some of my old stories and pictures for facebook. Watch for them in the "notes" section. (Or, just eventually find them all from www.easternsierrasunshine.blogspot.com -a blog I highly recommend, BTW.)
However...insisting on working less hours certainly turned out to be a very good decision one time previously...story coming soon.
Now my blogger friends, if any of you have made it this far into these ramblings, I suggest you get a new year's resolution of spending less time on - line. Excluding reading my posts, of course. THAT'S time well spent!
Signing off with a photo. Not a particularily seasonal one... I have to focus on the beauty of this place so the weather does not make me crazy. (Snow and cold=Blech!)
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Full Circle (and then some)
A follow up to yesterday's post
From my distant vantage point in the cardio-loft high above the work-out level, I didn't notice just how the muscular young man ended up on the floor of the gym between his wheelchair and a piece of exercise equipment. Considering the way he was attempting to haul his legs about with his arms and pull himself up a bar it was easy to assume he was purposely doing some kind of exercises that required ground level. It wasn't obvious that he was in a bit of trouble until the wheelchair rolled even further away. Possibly he could have managed to do it himself eventually and undoubtedly would have preferred to be able to, but, within seconds a couple of able-bodied young buffs left their muscle-making-machines to assist. He allowed them to hoist him genially back to his chair, send him on his way with a hearty slap to the back (thus bringing him back to the manly world of physical toughness), and return to their sweating without a backward glance (giving him a chance for get-away without drawing further spectacle to himself).
All those who had observed the whole scene, with politely-averted eyes, had a guarded relief on their faces. And, though they kept their faces expressionless, the two young hard-bodies couldn't have felt other than glad to have a chance to help. And appropriately so. Ater all, the strong SHOULD help the weak, right? Check out Romans 15:1. And even Jesus said it is more blessed to give than to receive (Acts 20:35). Yep, everybody felt good again. Especially about helping him retain his dignity.
So, how fair is that? The guy in the wheelchair never gets the bigger blessing. WRONG! He is constantly in a position to give people a chance to feel good about themselves. He is actually giving the most here. Hard to tell just who is the strong one.
Funny how life happens. Shortly after this incident I ran into an applicable quote* by Frances Young, a British theologian, and more than that, a mom to a handicapped son.
"The key, it seems to be, is in establishing a reciprocal relationship with the handicapped. The most fundamental aspect of this is the recognition, not that we are doing them good, but that they are doing something for us"
We all already know that of course. As it says in Proverbs 11:17, "The man who is kind does himself a favor." Nothing wrong with that at all. I'd just like to see the word also at the end of that Bible sentence. Because none of it negates the importance of performing the kindess to begin with.
*The quote was in a different book, but it was cited there as coming from page 179 of Samuel Wells's Improvisiation: The Drama of Christian Ethics (Grand Rapids: Brazos, 2004)
From my distant vantage point in the cardio-loft high above the work-out level, I didn't notice just how the muscular young man ended up on the floor of the gym between his wheelchair and a piece of exercise equipment. Considering the way he was attempting to haul his legs about with his arms and pull himself up a bar it was easy to assume he was purposely doing some kind of exercises that required ground level. It wasn't obvious that he was in a bit of trouble until the wheelchair rolled even further away. Possibly he could have managed to do it himself eventually and undoubtedly would have preferred to be able to, but, within seconds a couple of able-bodied young buffs left their muscle-making-machines to assist. He allowed them to hoist him genially back to his chair, send him on his way with a hearty slap to the back (thus bringing him back to the manly world of physical toughness), and return to their sweating without a backward glance (giving him a chance for get-away without drawing further spectacle to himself).
All those who had observed the whole scene, with politely-averted eyes, had a guarded relief on their faces. And, though they kept their faces expressionless, the two young hard-bodies couldn't have felt other than glad to have a chance to help. And appropriately so. Ater all, the strong SHOULD help the weak, right? Check out Romans 15:1. And even Jesus said it is more blessed to give than to receive (Acts 20:35). Yep, everybody felt good again. Especially about helping him retain his dignity.
So, how fair is that? The guy in the wheelchair never gets the bigger blessing. WRONG! He is constantly in a position to give people a chance to feel good about themselves. He is actually giving the most here. Hard to tell just who is the strong one.
Funny how life happens. Shortly after this incident I ran into an applicable quote* by Frances Young, a British theologian, and more than that, a mom to a handicapped son.
"The key, it seems to be, is in establishing a reciprocal relationship with the handicapped. The most fundamental aspect of this is the recognition, not that we are doing them good, but that they are doing something for us"
We all already know that of course. As it says in Proverbs 11:17, "The man who is kind does himself a favor." Nothing wrong with that at all. I'd just like to see the word also at the end of that Bible sentence. Because none of it negates the importance of performing the kindess to begin with.
*The quote was in a different book, but it was cited there as coming from page 179 of Samuel Wells's Improvisiation: The Drama of Christian Ethics (Grand Rapids: Brazos, 2004)
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Secrets of the Season
Every year of adulthood I've pondered again what would make Christmas most meaningful to me. Wouldn't I just LOVE to feel free to "squander" all the resources we devote to the season on the less fortunate. Some things are hard to justify while there is hunger in the world. But, of course, I remember childhood. And, as long as my kids expect the whole shebang, we'll be giving it to them as best we can. Grown up as they are, they aren't 100 percent beyond materialism yet. Don't think they are ready for a family mission trip instead of gifts yet! I've tried to suggest it. Went over like a lead balloon. Ah well, some say that "Do-gooders are just getting their own needs fulfilled" anyway. Maybe so, but Jesus didn't seem to care about that when he indicated that the giving is more blessed than the getting. I'm not denying that the giver gets the bigger gift. (That certainly has been the experience of DH and myself plenty of times). But, the beauty of it is-EVERYONE wins.
Brings a memory from my home care nursing days....
I was a "fill-in" nurse. That means, I did not carry my own patient load. I did admits, in-patient assessments for suitability for home care, and, mostly, filled in for other nurses when they were over-loaded or had a rare day off. So, it was not unusual for one of the case-managers to ask me to run by and check on her patient that afternoon. What surprised me was that she asked if I could pick up something at McDonald's for him. Because, as she explained, he was on such a limited income that he sometimes had to choose between food and medications etc. Oh, it was no surprise at all that she had been bringing him food. Most of the team was prone to go the extra mile like that. But, MCDONALDS??? Come on, these people are sick already. I'm not likely to add to anyone's possibility of demise by giving them Mcdonalds! So, without telling her, I zipped by home and threw together a tuna fish sandwich and a bowl of chicken noodle soup for him. OK, it wasn't "health" food, but it was what I had on hand in a hurry-and a far cry better than Mickey D! Soup was in a snap top container that I figured she could retrieve from him on the next visit.
Back down to the grubby center part of town where his weekly rental motel was located. No-one answered repeated knocks on his door. No one answered his phone. I could hear it ringing and ringing. The manager at the front desk offered me a key, but, I was afraid of what I'd find in there. Made the desk man go with me. Peaked inside and....empty. BUSTED! He is supposed to be home bound to get home care nursing per medicare guidelines. "Oh, he went down the street to get cigarettes", explained a neighbor. Double busted! Knowing that he won't get another nurse visit to collect the dish, I make a quick decision to leave the food anyway. It would just go bad in the hot car while I visit other patients. (But, if he can afford to smoke......)
Back in the office later that afternoon a bunch of us nurses were doing our charting when the receptionist came in the room with a funny look on her face. Our patient had called in literally weeping with gratitude that someone had cared enough to make him a sandwich and a bowl of soup! No one had ever made a "home cooked meal" for him before. One.sandwich.and.a.bowl.of.soup. We all kind of gaped at each other in wonderment and a little bit of heart-break. It was one of those many moments where NOT many words were needed for us to know each other's minds.
Yes, we were blessed more than the patient.
(Per strict Medicare guidelines, he no longer qualified for the program and got a prompt discharge.)
No, I never got my dish back.
I think I can spare it.
Brings a memory from my home care nursing days....
I was a "fill-in" nurse. That means, I did not carry my own patient load. I did admits, in-patient assessments for suitability for home care, and, mostly, filled in for other nurses when they were over-loaded or had a rare day off. So, it was not unusual for one of the case-managers to ask me to run by and check on her patient that afternoon. What surprised me was that she asked if I could pick up something at McDonald's for him. Because, as she explained, he was on such a limited income that he sometimes had to choose between food and medications etc. Oh, it was no surprise at all that she had been bringing him food. Most of the team was prone to go the extra mile like that. But, MCDONALDS??? Come on, these people are sick already. I'm not likely to add to anyone's possibility of demise by giving them Mcdonalds! So, without telling her, I zipped by home and threw together a tuna fish sandwich and a bowl of chicken noodle soup for him. OK, it wasn't "health" food, but it was what I had on hand in a hurry-and a far cry better than Mickey D! Soup was in a snap top container that I figured she could retrieve from him on the next visit.
Back down to the grubby center part of town where his weekly rental motel was located. No-one answered repeated knocks on his door. No one answered his phone. I could hear it ringing and ringing. The manager at the front desk offered me a key, but, I was afraid of what I'd find in there. Made the desk man go with me. Peaked inside and....empty. BUSTED! He is supposed to be home bound to get home care nursing per medicare guidelines. "Oh, he went down the street to get cigarettes", explained a neighbor. Double busted! Knowing that he won't get another nurse visit to collect the dish, I make a quick decision to leave the food anyway. It would just go bad in the hot car while I visit other patients. (But, if he can afford to smoke......)
Back in the office later that afternoon a bunch of us nurses were doing our charting when the receptionist came in the room with a funny look on her face. Our patient had called in literally weeping with gratitude that someone had cared enough to make him a sandwich and a bowl of soup! No one had ever made a "home cooked meal" for him before. One.sandwich.and.a.bowl.of.soup. We all kind of gaped at each other in wonderment and a little bit of heart-break. It was one of those many moments where NOT many words were needed for us to know each other's minds.
Yes, we were blessed more than the patient.
(Per strict Medicare guidelines, he no longer qualified for the program and got a prompt discharge.)
No, I never got my dish back.
I think I can spare it.
Friday, July 02, 2010
This is fun
From the blogger at May's Day, I got this idea.
Finish the statements
If I could say one thing to myself 10 years ago it would be to trust my gut instinct regarding our financial investments.
My favorite place in the world has spectacular scenery and nice weather
The movie I watch when I want to laugh does not exist. It usually happens serendipitously.
No one knows I have a "secret sunny site" which is open to no-one but me (NOW they know!).
I feel healthy when I get enough exercise.
Finish the statements
If I could say one thing to myself 10 years ago it would be to trust my gut instinct regarding our financial investments.
My favorite place in the world has spectacular scenery and nice weather
The movie I watch when I want to laugh does not exist. It usually happens serendipitously.
No one knows I have a "secret sunny site" which is open to no-one but me (NOW they know!).
I feel healthy when I get enough exercise.
I feel saner when I am not too busy.
If I could do anything else for a living I'd...a living couldn't be made on the things I'd do.
Exercise routine
These two words don't belong together. Exercise is meant to be fun and varied. How can that be routine?
Proudest moment in my career
This one is not applicable. Both my career (homemaker) and job (nurse) have more humbling than proud moments.
My dad always told me "There is a right way and a wrong way to (fill in the blank). He was wrong, of course. Turns out there are many right ways, and many wrong ways too.
My mom was right about the importance of self-confidence.
The lesson I keep learning over and over is that love is totally worth the sacrifices it requires.
I wish I had more time for MYSELF
My great unfulfilled dream is non-existant...yet.
Real contentment is a paradox. Of course, it is a blessing, but too much can prevent further development.
One of my favorite quotations is ...many (for example, see at the bottom of one of my other blogs), but most recently
(taken from the blog of Inland Empire Girl, who also did this activity)
If I could do anything else for a living I'd...a living couldn't be made on the things I'd do.
Exercise routine
These two words don't belong together. Exercise is meant to be fun and varied. How can that be routine?
Proudest moment in my career
This one is not applicable. Both my career (homemaker) and job (nurse) have more humbling than proud moments.
My dad always told me "There is a right way and a wrong way to (fill in the blank). He was wrong, of course. Turns out there are many right ways, and many wrong ways too.
My mom was right about the importance of self-confidence.
The lesson I keep learning over and over is that love is totally worth the sacrifices it requires.
I wish I had more time for MYSELF
My great unfulfilled dream is non-existant...yet.
Real contentment is a paradox. Of course, it is a blessing, but too much can prevent further development.
One of my favorite quotations is ...many (for example, see at the bottom of one of my other blogs), but most recently
"To the outside world we all grow old. But not to brothers and
sisters. We know each other as we always were. We know each others'
hearts. We share private family jokes. We remember family feuds and
secrets, family griefs and joys. We live outside the touch of time"
Clara Orteg
(taken from the blog of Inland Empire Girl, who also did this activity)
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Sunny Sight
It is not always easy to find a laugh-out-loud passage but, with the mental image evoked in her book, Exuberance: The Passion For Life, Kay Redfield Jamison made me do it. She quotes 'Katy Payne, the acoustic biologist who was the first to extablish that elephants communicate through infrasound,' (who) 'gives a marvelous account of young elephants taking delight in the chase.'
"Young bulls love to chase things; they relish the exhilarated, chin-up, feet-splayed rush and the sight of other animals in flight, and they magnify the impact of their assaults by chasing in pairs or small gangs. Once I saw a rush of which the object was a buterfly. Eyes wide, a gang of young male elephants collectively weighing some twenty or maybe forty tons thundered to a stop as the small fairy, white and weightless, rose up out of their midst. Then each turned on his heels and fled."<
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