Problems wth America, Part II

i'm working out a theory.

actually, several theories, but one in particular right now.  chances are that it will come completely unraveled right here, right now, but that's kinda the point of working out theories.  either they stay or they crumble but at least you know, or have a vague idea of a direction to go afterwards.

and it may be true that this theory only applies to me but i don't think i'm that distinctive from the rest of the human race.

and i idon't know if this was even a problem for me until this trip to India.  well, actually it was, but it was the same problem but in reverse.  if that makes any sense to you, you're farther along that i am :P

question: what if everybody, churchwide, quit telling anyone else that they look good?

i think it would be awesome.

can i explain?  'kay, thanks!

here's the deal: no, i was not always this large.  several years i ago i was smaller.

a lot smaller. yes.  believe it.  intensely personal data right here:  you know those stupid BMI charts that are in every health curriculum, gym, gym class, and doctor's office and serve no purpose except to make everyone who sees it to feel awful about themselves?

i was literally "off the chart" until the summer before my senior year of high school. but off the left side, not the right.  i'm not lying. i remember walking past a copy of that senior year and wondering that there was finally a little box ON the chart with both my height and my weight.

a lot of reasons for that, none of which are required knowledge for the purposes of this post.

6 years later, i am safely away from all the borders of the chart and, well, mostly okay with this.

then i went to India, had a great time, took a lot of pictures, met some awesome people and came on back home.

here's the scenario: the two or three weeks after i came back, multiple people , mostly from church, celebrated my return, asked how the trip was and received the expected positive response… and then a good handful of them made an unexpected comment- "wow, you look really good!" or "you look better!" with the clear reference to my physical appearance.

please stop right here and read this very carefully: these people are wonderful, loving, Godly church members who have been enthusiastic and uber-supportive of me and this mission trip from the second they heard about it and because they've seen my face in church for a good 6 years now.  not one of them said anything offensive, rude, judgmental or wrong.

here's the problem:  only 2 things changed while in India- 1) i did get more sun than anyone else in tennessee those 2+ weeks, just not enough to get a tan, and 2) i lost 4 pounds.  this was not intentional and not realized until i came home at 0230 and saw my friend's scale that i had borrowed to weight the suitcases over and over and over again to make sure they were under the weight limit and because the scale was small, i had to do the whole weigh-yourself-weigh-you+suitcase-subtract -your-weight thing repeatedly until i knew to the ounce how much i weighed in every outfit i wore those last few desparate days of packing, and i was wearing the exact same outfit upon my return (the only winter clothes i'd brought. just for the heck of it, i came in, plopped the suitcases down and stepped on the scale.

please do not respond to this with "you're crazy- of course you're not fat. that's the most ridiculous thing ever.  look at me, silly!"

i'm not saying i'm categorically fat.  i'm not saying anything in particular about my appearance.

but i'm saying that other people did, and i'm saying that i noticed it.  and i'm also saying it's had some unintended effects on me.

**BunnyTrail: this would not be a good time to heap on the praises just because you read this. that'll sound faker than a Barbie doll and not be the blessing you intend it to be. welcome to the female mind.**

if you remember that personal moment a whole 4-6 paragraphs ago, you will see that while different than the average american's, i too have had issues with weight control and outside appearances. everyone would like to look good, just most people don't carry this goal to absurd extremes. but given the choice, who would say, "i desire to be hideous"? that's right- nobody.

another personal moment happening here: not only that, there are a host of personal issues, concerns, problems that i'm already battling and often feeling like i'm losing to. 

the idea that i gained positive comments, other people's approval and praise because i lost weight planted seeds in my head that i have actually watched grow and am trying to uproot.  typical of people who struggle on almost any level with depression or anxiety, when life just rises up and smacks you in the face, one of the first things you don't feel like doing is eating properly...especially if you know others will notice you if you don't. 

so here's the idea: i don't like saying one thing is wrong or inferior unless i can think of something that is superior or more helpful, so here's the very very beginning of a thought, followed by a lot of rambling to try to fill it out.

what if instead of instead of telling a person "hey, you look great!" because they're wearing a new shirt or because of some outward physical characteristic that people (mostly females) use to judge themselves/others, you said "oh hey, i love how that pretty new shirt reflects your ___(some inward positive character trait)___"  or even "i'm so glad to see you- come sit in this pew," implying that her presence is encouraging or enlightening or happy, not that the way she appears on the outside is of as much value as she is, just by being herself.

what if every christian-to-christian interaction was like that?

of course, there are some objections/correction/editions/appendices/exemptions that could be made.

for instance, what about the woman who knows that she really does need to lose weight? she may mention this as a prayer request, or ask for a buddy to go with her to the gym or walk in the park, or inquire about diets or ideas/suggestions to help her in this endeavor. taking care of one's body is, i think, of utmost importance. as christians, we have each been given a body to take care of.  not only does this show good stewardship, but it also enables us to aid others in whatever way/shape/form is needed, it gives a visual to the world of how the whole church should act as one body-every member helping others and keeping them healthy physically AND spiritually, it demonstrates at least a little bit that humans are categorically separate from other living beings and of immense value, and every act of building up the physical body also exercises increasing spiritual traits. 

to that i would say- if she brings this up as a need in her life, by all means encourage and help her along the way.  celebrate success, encourage through the sweat, and give all the glory to Whom it is due. but any comment on this prayer request should be rooted not in the simple fact that she needs to lose weight.  it should  be firmly planted in the facts- her efforts to lose weight and take care of herself ARE BECAUSE she has intrinsic value that has NOTHING to do with the actual number on the scale.

another "for instance"- what about the perfect, happy girl who honestly doesn't care what anyone says to/about her?

to that i would say- you're ridiculous.  show me a girl who is old enough to be potty trained, and i'll say that at least on some level, there are the beginnings of personal insecurities that will only grow into giant orchards of problems unless they are controlled.  if they are 100% under control, write your own post.

another one: what about the complete stranger who doesn't know you and can't honestly give personal compliments?

to that i would say: why don't you just spend 10 seconds, learn even just one simple, little thing about me that shows that i'm worth getting to know, even if i'm just wearing a large-sized pair of jeans and a t-shirt? how long does it take to ask me what my favorite color is? if i'm worth 5 seconds of a stranger's time, that in itself is a compliment.

there's a reason Jesus hung out with the social outcasts.  several reasons, actually. one of them, i think, is that those social outcasts knew they didn't have much externally of value. the handicapped and poor had zip, the lepers were as good as dead, and the hookers worse even than that.

but they had just as much value as humans to Jesus as the religious groupies and the oblivious gentiles.  He took quite a bit more than 10 seconds with them, despite the numerous civil  and religious laws He was tromping all over.  they were worth it to Him.

i traveled all the way around the world to tell several hundred people that they had so much value i would pay for the experience of giving them a small handful of Tylenol and that there was a God-only one- who was like "oh man- I want that person to know Me and worship Me so much that I'm gonna rock the world, send my only son to blast open the welcome gate and draw them through it with my incredible, unrelenting love...even that blind cripple. and the pregnant hooker. and that soon-to-be-unblinded pharisee. and ___(insert your name here)___"

it wasn't until the very last day in India, at the airport, actually, that i saw a legit, overweight Indian.  for 2 whole weeks, i was surrounded by a culture that seemingly puts far less value on the external appearance of another human being. yes, all their clothing, even on the rural poor farm laborers had bright colors and patterns but anyone could choose whatever outfit they wanted because all the clothes are one-size-fits-all.  who cares if you're a bit taller or darker or shorter or have wide shoulders.  not a one of them could tell your their BMI. it did not matter one single whit.  i did not enjoy coming back and being barraged by commercials, advertisements, clothing stores, ANY stores that emphasize the strictly physical. this country is absolutely drowning in a marketplace that exists only to fluff up insecure people's sense of worth based only on how they look, setting completely unattainable standards and putting a price tag on the person's body instead of their soul.

and we wonder why anorexia, bulimia, suicide, depression, diets, and a host of social plaques are running rampant and wreaking wholesale destruction on the self-esteem of americans across the board. not to be lame, but i honestly wonder why these problems aren't even worse.  what else could be the result when we only focus on the temporary and external rather than the truly worthwhile- that which is eternal and internal?

i can accept the fact that non-christians are going to be non-christians and judge me according to whatever system they feel like floating with. for 99% of them, accepting the theory of evolution really leaves them with the belief that they, and everyone else, including me, are only really smart animals.  so really, i just can't pin too much on your assessment of my personal value if you are starting with that assumption. sorry. i don't find it flattering in the least and really do wonder how you can handle it. 

and i know i shouldn't really base my opinion of myself upon another christian's perception of me, either. unless that christian's perspective comes with a scripture reference or two. i met a person like that once and it literally changed my life- well, the change is a process still going on. but it blew my mind. and then i met a couple more people. and they blew my mind as well. i'd rather have my mind blown than my self-esteem any day of the week.

but this is the part where i ask those who call themselves my church family who are undoubtedly stronger in faith than i am to remind me of truths when i (frequently) forget them and help me find my true value.  look deeper, please.

i really do appreciate the compliments.  they were trying to be happy and encouraging. i just don't need any encouragement to eat less, work out more, and focus on lesser things and turn molehill into a mountain.  i'm too good already at that stuff. 

 what if the entire church, as a whole, made a mission out of revealing truth inside its members, stripping the hidden lies of their power and reclaiming territory we've just handed over as individuals to the world? what if she (whoever "she" is) never heard "you look good" ever again because she didn't need to?  because she only heard "you ARE good, and here's why"?

**BunnyTrailBlazer: if you like OR hate the idea, want to continue it or shut it down, feel free to express said thoughts in a responsible, adult-like fashion.  bear in mind that this is a thought less than 24 hours old, and only about 2 or 3 of my past 24+ hours have been spent sleeping. i might wake up tomorrow and delete the whole post. but until then i'll just throw it out there for the entire internet to peruse while i doze away the freezing cold, icy, sleety, wet, wet day.**

Problems with America, Part I

i promised the rant- here's one part of it.

just a week ago, i returned from a mission trip to India, and there is more coming regarding that in due time.  there's still some to be processed and thought through, and that takes longer than some people are willing to wait, it seems.

but going on a trip like that really changes your perspective on many things. and while in a multitude of ways India is much the same as it was centuries ago, it does so many things right.  for instance, please take a good look at the picture below.  just look.  then feel free to bust out laughing, as i did.

those are my pants!!  MY PANTS!!

they have a fantabulous name in India, but i don't speak any of Taligu, so you'll have to take my work for it. 

i spent a whole 18 days surrounded by beautiful people in absolutely stunning clothing.  beauty everywhere, and half the women  wearing pants like that with their punjabi tops. their outfits really are one size fits all- the only decision you have to make is which colors and patterns.  there are only 3 trillion in each store you enter. no big deal :P it was any girl's dream- well, not any girl's.

fast forward 2 weeks.  i'm back in america, and even liking it. i have a new respect for dentists, trashcans, indoor plumbing, cars, air conditioning and hamburgers.

the problem: after either 2 or 3 years, one of my 2 pairs of jeans is now wearing thin to the point of fraying/ripping right below one of my pockets on the right side. they're super comfortable, i love the pockets and was/have been thrilled to find a pair of jeans that are my size. then i walked into Kohl's, the only place so far that i've had any luck finding suitable jeans.

all of a sudden, size has to matter.  shape has to matter. numbers have to matter. without realizing it, stupid little things started to matter. there is a reason why i despise clothes shopping, and that is it. well that, and the twisted notion that has flooded society: that every female looks good in skinny jeans and "jeggings." i literally feel just a bit dumber having typed that word.  i don't count either or those as "pants" and maintain my position that every pair would do more good as fire-starter material than covering a person, which they can't even do, even on a tiny, skinny person who "fits" them. even if they do "fit" they show more than i really care to see outside the hospital room when i'm not on duty and when you don't have a really really good reason for clueing me in. 

there are as many body types/shapes/sizes as there are humans, and america has put every girl into a perfect set-up-to-fail situation. first, because we value freedom, individuality, humanism and liberal secularism, we say that every girl is pretty, no matter what dress/pant size she is, no matter what color/condition her skin is, no matter how short/tall.

but then again, we say that it's not really true, and that the larger the number stitched in the back, the "slightly less" pretty you are.  then, just to make sure you can't succeed, we make the same sized pants with larger numbers every year, so that by staying the same size, you're actually increasing in pant size and therefore not only can you feel like a failure, you can't ever find a stupid pair of jeans that fits when you need one. 

i'm not even kidding you.  i don't own a scale at all.  i had to borrow a friend's to weigh my suitcases before i left, so i know exactly how much a weighed every day before i left, each time i re-weighed the suitcases.  even though i love Indian food and not once went hungry more than an hour, i still somehow managed to lose 4 pounds. i know i don't need to lose weight, and it was not intentional.

but in need of a pair of pants, size 7, and FINALLY finding ONE single pair that size (that was not of the "skinny jeans" or "jeggings" or "emo-full-of-holes" varieties), all i learned was that i am now a size 11.  that' s double digits now, folks!!  and part of me was surprised.  part was disgusted with the pant makers, but part of it just poked that part in my brain where everyone wonders what's wrong with them and needs to find something to blame, even if it's not blameworthy.  i know  that i really haven't changed much at all in the past couple years, but somehow i felt like society was passing judgment on me and now thought less of me for failing their standards (which aren't "standard" at all, if you think about it).  

rant almost done.

Dear America,

stop torturing your own- please!!  for the sake of the young ones, and the sanity of us all.  good glory- PICK A STUPID SIZING SYSTEM AND STICK WITH IT!

if it's 34 inches around, CALL IT 34 INCHES. don't call it size 13 one year and size 21 the next, or whatever number you want.  NOT HELPFUL.

if you want every girl scout in the nation to hear that she is beautiful no matter what, why don't you follow that up with an honest standard of measurement so she can just walk into a store, buy whatever number jeans she wants and then get on with her life, doing what she loves with those she wants to be with instead of fretting and scrambling through shelves for hours, trying to make herself fit the popular style of clothes so she'll feel accepted.  an overweight girl already knows she's overweight.  changing the jeans size won't help or change her.  what will help? why don't you just give her a hug, grab her hand and a frisbee and go hang out in the park, or study together in Starbucks, or spend some time and altogether too much money in Hobby Lobby expressing what's awesome inside you that has almost nothing to do with external and temporal circumstances and circumferences.

the first time i saw those pants, i swallowed all kinds of pride and skepticism, "knowing" that i was too tall, too small, too white, too whatever, to wear those.  most americans would just die at the thought of trying on something so … not normal, afraid of looking huge or ugly or non-standard.

guess what.  i'm not standard. relative to most Indians, yes, i am a freakin' giant, but their promise was true- the pants still fit perfectly, and i had a blast wearing those all over the place. they'd be size 50 or 60-something, but i don't care.  they didn't, either. they looked amazing- more so because they just weren't concerned about it. 

yes, i am a girl, and sometimes care altogether too much about what others think of me and how i look and how i dress and crave praise and being noticed just as much, or even more, than many other girls.  only females can know just how aggravating it is, living with so many fluid standards and goals and promises when all we want is to just. be. a. girl.

… so i put on the freakishly huge pair of pants and ran with it.  literally.

It Came Upon a Midnight Clear- in the key of A8

It came upon the change of shift, as day shift hands off to the night.

Encouraging nods from all the pods mean hopefully we'll be alright.

Report sheets out,

We're all about

Some serious getting-it-done!

Stick that phone in my pocket;

I'm ready to rock it-

This 12-hour war will be won!

It came upon 'bout 8 o'clock, just as i'm gathering meds.

The CNA rings- "Could you please bring  some sheets to change 802's bed?

The C Diff has struck,

All his bowels are a-muck.

The puddle's now on to the floor."

He said that he's done,

But I'll bet 10 to 1

In an hour there's going to be more.

It came upon a whole minute later;we' re up to our elbows in crap.

1's rhythm converts, she says her chest hurts, and all i can say is "oh,snap!!"

Her heart's in A-flutter,

She's starting to mutter-

I gotta go call the MD.

Let's get a drip going!

The EKG's showing

What all of us already see.

It came upon 2100 or so, my patients are mostly tucked in.

4 is confused-not too bad- i'm amused. so the charting can finally begin!

With vitals q 2,

And some meds left to do

Scattered between now at 5

I'm gonna be busy,

But not in a tizzy

Just gotta keep everyone  alive!

It came upon eleven o'clock and patients in every hall

With lines and drains and addled brains were two seconds short of a fall.

The C. Diff and flu

And, of course, MRSA too

Were lurking round every bend.

And oh, lucky me

Was waiting to see

Just what the ER would send.

It came upon a midnight clear as all the computers shut down.

We finally sit, reflecting a bit- that Christmas has quietly come round.

The lights are turned low,

But our hearts are aglow

With memories of Christmases past,

Of friends and good food,

And a family brood,

And a glorious hope that will last.

They came upon the 1 o'clock hour- the patient with family too

They're all so worn out, but we won't turn them out- there's room in this "inn" just for you.

The patient's in pain,

Needs to throw up again,

The doctor's not reconciled meds.

I check his IV

Infiltrated, I see,

And the orders are mostly unread.

It came upon the 3 o'clock hour, and my energy's about to give out.

The holiday spirit, and everything with it are fighting the tiredness and doubt.

The C Diff' still flowing,

4's wound side is growing

A petri dish cocktail of crud.

Troponins are soaring,

Tonight sure ain't boring!

Let's give that anemic some blood!

It came upon about 5 o'clock enjoying a minute of peace

To-do list in hand, i can plan as i stand by the window that faces towards east.

Can't quite see the sun,

But there's much to be done:

Labs, turns and some I's and O's too,

Protonix and Synthroids,

Some IV Push steroids,

And accuchecks out the wazoo!

It's 6:35, all the patients alive, and i hear the best sound of the night:

"Please return phones"  the little thing drones as i gladly take in the good sight

Of day nurses walking

And cheerfully talking;

As welcome as morning's first ray

A fresh flood of blue

In a bright royal hue

Is coming to take on the day

It came upon the change of shift, as night shift hands off to the day

It's been a good run, though it's not always fun- these patients are set- so we pray!

I'll hand off 1-4,

Sign that sheet in the door

Ushering in Christmas Day

So here's to A8,

Let's hope that it's great

With blessings from every which way!

It comes upon me, all the time, especially this time of year.

Each person i meet the same question repeats: "So why did you choose this career?

You miss holidays-

Though i'm sure that it pays-

But just look how much that you miss!

The hours and the stress

And the hard, smelly mess!

Do you honestly LIKE doing this?!?"

It takes just a sec, to smile and reflect, on the choice that i made long ago.

"Why yes, yes i do enjoy serving you, and here's what i want you to know:

All the 'presumed' pain

Is far less than my gain-

Just look and see all that i've got:

The patients i see.

And my work family

I drew a magnificent lot!

It comes upon me every shift- the burden of blessing i bear

About those tasks of which you've asked-well, now it's my turn to share.

I hold many hands,

Help the  weak learn to stand;

I clean up what so many won't.

Whether ice chips or prayer

Are their need -i'm right there.

Feel sorry? nope- i simply don't.

It comes along with quite a price, I never would tell you a lie.

"RN"'s what you read-much more could be said than those two little letters imply.

I smile when they can't

As they cry or they rant

'Cause their whole world just turned upside down.

I watch the night through

Keeping watch over you

So you know you can sleep safe and sound.

So celebrate as much as you please-go on and please have a great time!

Just say thank-you to those wearing blue and simply keep us in mind.

Have a toast and a cheer

I'll party from here,

If you're home then i've done my part.

If the price that i pay

Is to sleep through a holiday

There's plenty enough joy in my heart."

when thankfulness is hard

if you're faithful in following these posts, then your job has been very easy the past long while. 

if you're not faithful, then you didn't notice.

either way, thank you :)

thanksgiving is still a few hours away, and my celebrating's already done.   had lunch at Moe's this weekend with a couple friends.  had the annual Harvest banquet at church with some more friends and families. used a couple nights off work to go visit some more family-friends. i loved it all and had a blast. 

but because i love honesty, i gotta say that while there are things i am ever-so grateful for, there are things that i don't know how to be thankful for.  i really don't. if you want to help me out and think i haven't already heard a dozen sermons on how to be thankful for everything, it's okay.  i have.  so many trials that i am in the midst of overcoming, battles still being fought, energy running low, no end in sight yet.  things i can only share with Aslan… or a therapist. or the cat- but only when he's sleeping. which is the vast majority of the time.

sometimes it's not the sermons that say the most. sometimes it's the sweet quiet songs that you've heard a thousand times, but the thousand and first time is different, and at just the right time.  

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1CSVqHcdhXQ

we pray for blessing, we pray for peace;

comfort for family, protection while we sleep.

we pray for healing, for prosperity;

we pray for your mighty hand to ease our suffering.

all the while, you hear each spoken need.

yet love is way too much to give us lesser things.

'cause what if your blessings come through raindrops?

what if your healing comes through tears?

what if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know you're near?  what if trials of this life are your mercies in disguise?

we pray for wisdom, your voice to hear;

we cry in anger when we cannot feel you near.

we doubt your goodness, we doubt your love,

as if every promise from your word is not enough.

all the while you hear each desperate plea

and long that we'd have faith to believe.

when friends betray us, when darkness seems to win, we know that pain reminds this heart that this is not, this is not our home.

'cause what if your blessings come through raindrops?

what if your healing comes through tears?

what if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know you're near?

what my greatest disappointments, or the aching of this life

is the revealing of a greater thirst this world can't satisfy.

what if trials of this life, the rain the storms the hardest nights, are your mercies in disguise?

this song rose up and hit me right at the point in my workout where you're finally worn out and can stop fighting the weights, get in a rhythm and listen to the words instead of the ragged breaths.  taking in the message just like oxygen and letting the resistance ride out on the carbon dioxide. 

breathing is a freakin' miracle, people.

there are a lot of things that i am just not thankful for right now.  situations i can't turn around, wounds i can't heal,  hearts i can't change, time i can't bring back, redo, change, or make fly.  a ton of tears cried, many more to come.  no band-aid big enough for some of this nonsense. some days i feel i just need a spiritual body cast.

my thankfulness list is a bit shorter than alot of people's just because of some things that i don't have.  biological family members: 800 miles away physically, light years away emotionally.  no home- just an apartment.  no huge thanksgiving dinner spread- a crock pot recipe so i'll have leftover for the next week. at least. and cereal.  i stinkin' love breakfast cereal. love it, love it, love it!!!

but i am thankful for the most important things.

four years before this past friday, i finally found a measure of peace that i'd never known before.  the gift of salvation- the smallest, plainest box in the pile of presents that, once opened,  keeps on pouring out amazingness constantly- a little each day, more than enough to get by, never empty, always there.

the perfect life, the family, the home that other people all have on their lists that i don't… i've got all that waiting for me.  i'd love a set of all that down here, but the only thing i know is that it could never be as spectacular as the complete set up there.  this "life" we've got ain't half as real as we think.  by the time we're old crusty octogenarians and about to set sail with Michael across the Jordan, we'll only have finished the table of contents page.  the real story only begins there.   

sometimes it just takes crummy circumstances to remember it.  the thirst is there; it just can't be satisfied here. so i will wait.  i don't know how many more thanksgivings i'll have to wait through, but i will.  i will keep on being thankful for this pre-life, and keep looking forward to the next one.  no, i do not think that's morbid at all.  i think it's exciting.  it's the whole point of the gift of salvation- the promise now of a fantastic "later." a guaranteed eternal victory after a short struggle (though it feel like ages in the midst of it).  small little candle burning now, illuminating the invitation to the biggest bonfire ever, complete with s'mores. i love s'mores, too- almost as much as cereal :) 

so, happy thanksgiving, people. i am thankful for you.  and heating fans, potted plants, drawing pencils and this silly poofy cat.  enjoy your feasting and family and celebrate. now and later.

how to save a life.

today, since working on a cardiac unit counts for squat, i was given the opportunity to keep my job by showing up for my Basic Life Support and Advanced Cardiovascular Life Support refresher class.  because you never know how, when or where it may happen, and a non-hospital employee  or facebook friend may have to assist me, i have collected a small sample of pearls from my musings to share with you, the general public internet world, in order that you may be as effective as any second-person responder could be.

• wendy's will kill us all some day. i was not aware of the depth of their animosity towards human life until this afternoon. it has been multiple years since i have eaten fast food beyond Chick-Fil-A, and ironically enough i chose the lunch break of our ACLS class to experience Wendy's food.  there was literally a small puddle of grease in the bottom of the cardboard burger box.  warning bells across the nation should have been sounding, but hunger and a short time frame with limited options won the argument.  the non-soggy half of the burger tasted good .  at least, it did then.  it is now waging war with my stomach.  i think i'll win, but only by my iron will.  let me simply say it will be another several years before i feel hungry enough to try that again.
• apparently, it's now a mannikin, not a mannequin.  how this slipped past everyone's spell check, i have no explanation for.  i guess our plastic peeps are just too hip to have a "qu" in their name or to abide by basic principles of standard English, the language of our ancestors who are struggling against rigor mortis to thrash about in their graves over the nightmarish abuses of text-talk.  blood has been shed for less- i hope the victims didn't know that it would all be in vain.
• do something. only in Acts 5 are you justified in watching someone give out in front of your face and walking away.  the apostle Peter wasn't certified in ACLS, but the scene was already verified to not be safe anyway. if you accidentally mess up the 30:2 compressions:breath ratio, it's not going to kill them any faster than 0 compressions. it might make the victim angry enough to revive and punch you in the face for crunching their rib cage in half, but hey- there's your confirmation that you've achieved ROSC, so you're good!!
• take everything you've seen Dr House and his team do… and pitch it.  biggest. lie. ever.  if a code ever happened like that and we revived our patients in 3 shocks and 15 seconds, then i wouldn't have needed to spend 9 hours learning this stuff.  here's the first nugget of truth: the doctor in a real code is the LAST person there, sometimes by about 2 hours.  Doc, we can run a full code, have a foley and 2 IVs started with a saline bolus, insert an airway and have that bed halfway down the hall towards the ICU before that operator is done announcing that there's even BEEN a code. nurses are seriously under-represented on that show. it takes more than a white coat and some defib paddles, Chase!
• it's incredibly therapeutic to see a doctor sweat out the problem in front of you. i was blessed to sit next to and partner with one of our doctors.  i was kinda happy that he got nervous a couple times and even made a few minor mistakes.  we saved those dumb dummies anyway!! not that we will ever be facebook friends, but there is a certain amount of camaraderie between folks who've suffered through AHA's educational videos side by side.  next time i am required to page him at 0230, i hope he remembers this. if not, i may have to remind him.  dude, the pointy end of the mask goes UP ;)
• be terrified.  live in constant paranoia. know that at any second some freaky stranger could just fall out right in your same aisle at Kroger's, fully expecting you to spontaneously convince their heart to start beating again.  shouldn't be too hard, right?  HA!

dear Esmeralda,

any second the phone could ring.  until then, i'm being paid the price of a milkshake per hour to sit here and wait to be needed.  it's pretty intense. really. try it sometime and see if YOUR heart doesn't just race the entire time!

because i decided TV costs way too much, i have fallen for netflix instead.  and i'll watch endless episodes of a show, hoping against hope i can make it through another 43 minutes without being called it. this is what i do on-call… earn another milkshake.  anything longer a movie than that, and there's little chance i can finish it before The Phone Call.

i just finished the final episode of Monk.  It's the best tv-series finale i've ever seen.  i legitimately wanted to cry, but i'd never be able to answer the phone if/when staffing called me if i started sobbing.  but it was epic. 

then i took a leap of faith and chose something new to Netflix that's 90 minutes long.  i haven't seen it in decades, and have only faint memories of it.  The Hunchback of Notre Dame.   it's a grim look at the hypocrisy in the church, and it's awfully intense for a kids' movie.  i'm not sure how i feel about yet another secular movie justifying an anti-church attitude by throwing our hypocrisy in our faces again, but it's happened before and will continue to happen.  never underestimate the ability of Disney to warp spirituality and the church to fit the current sway of culture.

thank God the gospel is stronger than any hypocrite or sinner. 

but right in the middle of the chaos, anger, malice and decrepit spirituality there was another noise.  a little quieter, but there.

Esmeralda the gypsy girl- clearly a sinner so far from grace that nobody, not even herself, considered that any God out there would deign to listen to her.   the entire culture has crossed every one of her people off their list, sure that grace could never reach them.  worthless.  actually, worse than worthless.  better off dead than alive.  heathen, deserving of death.

seeking sanctuary in the… well, sanctuary of the magnificent Notre Dame cathedral, she sees many people, dressed prim and proper, kneeling in the pews praying so… neatly.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0pLCDnbBEk0

in the background, the dirty wretched heathen outcast tries praying for the first, precious time.  and that little flicker of faith reveals in its glow that there is room at the cross for even her.  even more, she can see straight to the heart of the gospel and understands it more than many of the church members represented, except the priest.  she understands that Jesus came to call the sinners, not the righteous, to repentance.  and that He hears each simple desperate plea.  most times, it takes an outcast to understand an outcast.

that's why he became one.  so we could understand.

there's so much honesty in that song i can hardly stand it.  no, her philosophy is not 100% correct, but for someone who'd never in a church before, she has a connection to the bigger reality not immediately visible until a level of desperation is reached, the walls she's built up come crashing down, and false prayers just fizzle away.  she's hurting, she's got questions, and she's got the guts to ask them.  she speaks for all the outcasts who are still waiting for relief to come.  it's on its way.  those who trust in Him are every bit His children and He would never ever forsake them.  Jesus didn't forget them, and neither did his followers. is there hypocrisy in the church? yes, because we are human.  but is there also grace, mercy, peace, forgiveness, healing, hope and completely unbound liberty? yes, because each of us had that same kind of heart-rending First Prayer. and He heard us, too.  the Church is rising up and answering the call. His people are going all over the globe and finding His children. they are hearing the Good News that answers the cry of their hearts, finding healing and peace.  there's a lot of work still to be done, but we'll get there.  to all the Esmeraldas of the world- keep praying. so will we! 

Esmeralda, get ready- this is gonna happen.  here's for you:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v_cQXROe4dQ

oh, to be a child in 1835!!

i feel like i learned so much this week.

in all actuality, it was probably a lot less than it feels like it was.

but still!!

1) kids in the early 1800's were a heckofalot tougher than kids today.  good glory!  one of the best parts of my growing collection of classical literature is Hans Christian Anderson's Complete Fairy Tales.

i just have to say that first off, this "complete" collection of fairy tales is completely DIFFERENT than the Grimm Brothers' "Complete Fairy Tales." which amuses me greatly.

but also, THESE FAIRY TALES ARE TERRIFYING!!!! i almost had nightmares from a couple of these!!  fascinating, but not something i would ever read to a small child immediately before turning the lights off and leaving them alone in the dark all night long.

2) i am entering a new phase of life. this phase is entirely coated with cat fur.  i think the only item in my possession that has no fur on it (that i know of) is my towel hanging just out of paw's reach.  i think that if this cat were no declawed we might be having some more serious talks, but this cat is declawed and fabulous.  i think he knows it, too.  i love this cat.  if i ever don't want to get up and do something, he's ALWAYS right there and trying to sit on my leg, face, shoulder or at least my foot.  when i sleep on my side, he's gotten pretty good at balancing on my other side.  to prove my point: i stood up for 2 minutes, and he has made himself quite comfortable in the exact place i had been.  but he's purring and pretty so i let him.

3) tv is depressing. i thought i liked being an informed american. then i found out by staying NOT informed, that i am completely ignorant but SO much happier!! also, i found the 6th season of Psych and it ended on a potentially horrible note.  i have not seen any of the new season, but that was either a horrible season closer or the cruelest cliffhanger ever.  i also caught up with the rest of the nation and saw the final season of House. i pretty much wanted to cry and then watch it again and hope for a more satisfying ending. 

4) i think we ought to have a second round of gift-giving at Easter time.  it's just too much fun and for a good cause :) if Christmas is a big deal, then Ester oughta be at least as big a deal, so we may as well get the food and family involved and send some presents everywhere.  if some doc tells me someday that i have 6 months to live, and it's february, i would be happy knowing i still had one more fantastic holiday to celebrate. not that there would be a shortage of celebration in heaven, of course.  just sayin'. why not celebrate here, too?

5) i am not a normal person. sorry, just not.  i like my job and co-workers and apartment, use proper grammar when at all possible, and love showing up at work in the dead of night with something to share. my bad days are when i think i am supposed to have a problem with being different.  my best days are those when i have long random conversations with cool, fairly normal people who just remind me that abnormal is okay -and sometimes- pretty awesome.  there are too many lies out there to get tangled up in and it takes a while to cut through all that underbrush .  much easier just to not trick yourself into being someone/something you're not for a lie when the simple truth is right in front of you.

6) spring needs to hurry up and come. and then stay for a bit. pretty sure i was in short sleeves with the air conditioning on by this time last year.  i'm okay with going back to that now.  i am still wearing my jacket indoors and sitting under the heating vents. 

7) i love how Perry followed me downstairs to make a cup of tea, then back upstairs to sit ON me (not NEXT TO) and is watching The Killers with me at 2 am. 

because even with bullets and cuss words flying, it is still less scary than the original Thumbelina story.