So, who got to rub a uterus today?

I know what you're thinking: "what the?!" During post-conference of my labor and delivery clinical on Wed, my instructor asked us that question. The funny part was that she was being serious; it was hard for me to not bust out laughing cuz it's an odd question, even in the nursing realm. I thought it would make an appropriate title for today's post.

I had a dream on Wed. night that I was pregnant. It was one of those dreams that felt real. Not only was I pregnant, I was a surrogate mother for Janet and Chad. Janet and I were shopping, and bumped into Chad who was working at Express at the time. I decided this was a good time to give some patient education; I showed them how to find the head of the baby by pushing on the stomach and then find the back and legs and stuff. Chad thought that was weird and he didn't want to try it. And that's all I can remember. So now I'll try to figure out what it means: um, I just found out that Chad and Janet had their baby, I was holding babies at clinicals that evening, I just learned how to feel for the placement of the baby, and I like shopping? But I have decided that that is the last time I let my nursing buddies convince me to go out for a drink after clinicals.

I love it how things work out...

Other than just celebrating the death and resurrection of Christ on Easter weekend, I'll be celebrating the births of Erin (that's me) and Heather Hall. My birthday is on Good Friday, and Heather's is on Easter. We have been trying to plan a weekend of festivities that could accommodate my lack of funds. I'm very excited to say that we will be staying in Chicago for free (Yeah for Heather's connections!); I just found out a little while ago so the excitement has not worn off yet. Now we can spend our money on something other than hotels! We're going to try to find a salsa or swing dance to go to, but if anyone has any suggestions on where to go in Chicago, let me know (icks-nay on a cubs game, I have no desire to be nauseous on my b-day).

Oh, happy days...

Today, I'm on cloud nine. The last couple of weeks has been very trying, but I feel like God decided that I needed a little break today. Here are the things that made me smile today:
-I had an awesome interview this morning for my hopeful internship this summer in the ICU. The head nurse of the floor and I really hit it off and we ended our meeting with her saying that she can't say that I have the job (that's human resource's job), but she can say that she really wants me to work for her and she thinks I'm adorable. She said that this summer, I would get to use my CPR skills when someone codes, which happens often cuz it's the ICU, and I might get to see them crack opens someone's chest if they crash, and I might get to see some surgeries like open-heart; freakin' sweet!
- I was tutoring today in the academic lab, and there is this one guy who also tutors that reminds me of Napoleon Dynamite. He always smiles at me and says "hi", and I say "hi" back. But today he was especially smooth. He was smiling at me and went to sit down in a chair. He put is his hand on the armrest of the chair and sat down; unfortunately the seat of the chair was on the other side of the armrest. His butt hit the ground, and his legs went flying in the air. My voice cracked as I asked him if he was okay cuz I was trying not to laugh. He pops up and says, "I'm... I'm okay... just embarrassed... I thought the seat was there... um... but it's not..." Poor guy...tee-hee-hee...
-I'm going to New Orleans for spring break to help with Katrina relief. I'm so excited! It's been such a long time since I have done something like this and I really miss it.
-I received a letter today from my school saying that I am one of five out of all the nursing students chosen by the university to be eligible for this special Nursing scholarship for next year. My first thought: I know I am not one of the top five grade-wise. It must have been my sparkling wit and my wonderful personality that won someone over (you like me, you really like me!). Either way, I felt really honored. I hope I get it; it would be great to not have to pay for next year.
-And last of all, I got my haircut! Sure that was actually a couple of days ago, but it looked really cute today. Here's some pics:

Sight is not highly over-rated ...

Have you ever had one of those "how could I have been so stupid" moments?

The other night, I was working an over-night shift with Sherri*, the night nurse. Now Sherri is an elderly woman who is not the most tactful when confronting people (she has started a fight with every nurse at my job). Many people may describe her as being the grouchiest person alive, and that she loves to point out the bad in any good situation. Most people avoid her. But I see her as a savior, showing me the ignorance of my way.
So we were making our rounds, turning and changing clients. I was lifting up the client while Sherri was straightening the bed pad, and the client poked at my eye. Luckily I closed my eye in time, but in shock, I said, "oh".
"What happened?" Sherri asked.
"D. almost poked me in the eye. But I'm okay; no biggy. Besides, sight's highly over-rated, anyways," I replied with a smile. For those of you who don't know me well, I say "____ is highly over-rated" to show that what just happened in not that big of a deal. Example, I have a roommate that didn't shower much, and we would joke around about how showers are highly over-rated, both knowing the importance of good hygiene but neither one of us caring if she showered or not.
"How can you say that sight is over-rated?!"
"Sherri, I'm just kidding..."
"Well, that's not something to joke about!" She said, and then decided to give me a ten minute lecture about why sight is not highly over-rated. Here are some key points of the lecture:
-You wouldn't say that if you were blind.
-How would you explain "sight being over-rated" to a blind person.
-You wouldn't be able to do anything if you were blind, like drive, or be a nurse, or look at people...
-There are lots of blind people out there who wish that they were in your shoes, and you could care less if you go blind. "Think about it, Erin, think about it."
"You're right, Sherri. I'm sorry." I've learned a hard lesson... some people don't get sarcasm.

Surprisingly, Sheri and I get along great. I find her pessimistic mood entertaining, and even though she may not verbalize that she care, she would give you the shirt off her back if you needed it (but she would complain about it;). And I've been able to make her laugh a few times, but, man, it takes a lot of effort...


*name has been changed to protect the nurse's privacy, or to save my butt just in case she was to stumble upon this blog, which I seriously doubt she will cuz I don't think she even know what a blog is. I'll give you a hint, though, in case you're curious; it rhymes with Sherri.

Lay off the steroids...

My grandpa (the one that lives with us) is currently in the hospital. He's been having a hard time breathing, which is weakening his heart, and they found a spot on his lung (possibly cancer). So whenever you think about it, pray for him. And to help you remember to pray for him, here are a couple of humorous grandpa stories...

My grandpa is a very sweet old man. But that's a different story when he is on steroids. So these stories are not representative of how he usually is...

My sister and brother-in-law were visiting grandpa at the hospital. The nurse went up to them and said, "boy, your grandpa is ornery."
"Why do you say that?" my sister asked.
"I went into his room, and he was lying there naked with his sheets ripped off the bed. He had taken off all of his clothes, unhooked the monitors, and took out his IV. When I asked him why he did that, he replied, 'I thought you needed something to do.'"

After hearing that story, my dad told us a story about what grandpa said to him about a year ago when grandpa was on steroids. They were arguing cuz grandpa wanted Dad to get a car so he could drive again (grandpa can't drive, he can't even work the coffee machine and we put directions on it: "grandpa, push the green button"). Of course my dad said "no". In anger, grandpa said, "those kids aren't all yours." That's low, grandpa, real low...

It's been one year since I have started my job at the Re-spite home. I got a raise; yeah, now I'm almost making as much as I did at the bank. Most of you probably don't know what my job is. Usually I say that I would with people with developmental disabilities with their daily activities... and I wipe a lot of butts. But since it is my one-year anniversary, I shall go further in depth in my job description so you can better understand why I love my job so much. I work at a home that has two ladies that live there, and then other clients that only stay for a short time, like a couple of hours or for the weekend when their care-takers or family need a break. Their disabilities could be minor like Down's syndrome and they can do most stuff on their own, or they can be severely handicapped and unable to communicate or walk. I'll use fancy titles to make my job sound important:
-Culinary artist: I prepare dinner for about 6-18 people, depending on how many clients we have. Many of the clients have special diets, or need their food cut a certain way, or have their liquids at a certain consistency, so it is my job to make sure that all of those are correct so that no one chokes and dies, or has an allergic reaction and dies. Also, I help feed some of the clients. Once I accidently made a client I was feeding laugh, and I ended up being covered from waist up in chocolate pudding. I learned my lesson to not crack jokes at dinner.
-Personal trainer: In the summer, I'll swing with the younger clients, and play baseball or football with the boys. One of the boys is 6 yrs. old and his chin comes to about my knees; he's so cute and tiny. We'll play football with his brothers for hours. I'll let him tackle me, and if he has the football, I'll pick him up and carry him across the field. I also help one of the severely disabled ladies with her arm exercises. I put those Hulk gloves on her hands and let her take "jabs" at me. She moves extremely slooooow, so it doesn't hurt, and she gets the biggest kick out of it.
-Housekeeper: I do a lot of cleaning. Pretty much everything gets bleached everyday. I do the dishes, clean the kitchen, do the laundry, clean the bathrooms, sweep, mop, freakin' everything.
-Stylist: when the ladies that live at the home go out for the evening, I do their hair and make-up. Also, I'm kinda in charge of taking the ladies shopping. The ladies at work tend to buy them old-lady clothes, like kitty-christmas sweatshirts. But I get them cute clothes that look less "disabled" and that will get them attention from the boys at the dances. They love it.
-Day spa specialist: This is the best I could come up with for the dirty stuff. I help with a lot of showers and I change lots of Depends. One of my friends and I always joke around about how I have seen more "man parts" than any virgin should. I also have a lot of stories that I could share in this messy area, but I'll resist.
-Best friend: This is my favorite part. I'll watch Wheel of Fortune with the clients, go the movies, go shopping, go out for dinner, play games, do stupid stuff to make them laugh, rub their backs when they can't sleep or don't feel well, snuggle on the couch, go to dances, read them books at bedtime, give them kisses, anything to make them smile.
I love this job. The people I work with are great, but if I go into that this blog would be freakin' huge. I laugh all the time at my job. I do great impressions of all the clients. Even when things go wrong or things are really "messy", I still can't help but smile. If you ever get the chance, I highly recommend working with people with disabilities. It will definitely change how you view life.


Man, looking over my job description, I sound like I'm in housewife-training... I'm just lacking the marital "benefits"...