Frisky!

I have had a hip prosthesis since I was 25. I remember flying back and forth to Atlanta in 1994 for nurse practitioner training and being disappointed that my hip didn't set off the airport scanners. I am disappointed no more, not since 9/11.

A couple years ago, I flew to Atlanta for a colposcopy undate. Scanner went off. I was escorted to the side by a nice lady who scanned me with a wand. Of course, I told her about my hip and even offered to show her my scar. She said that wasn't necessary. Drat.

With the recent flying back forth to MD, I think I've had enough of this now. No more fun. Justa a bloody nuisance. At least the first time amused Searcher. Sunday, as we were leaving BWI, I set the scanner off. Unfortunately, all of the employees in my area were the type who treat people as cattle. No eye contact, no smiles, no personality. Ugh. And of all the luck, I am being cared for by a young lady in training. She is being shown how to do this in detail like I've never seen. Feels my underwires with the back of her hand. Feels my bra hooks. Has me unbuckle my belt. Evert the waistline of my pants. Even patted down my pubic area, the first time this has ever happened. I didn't mind any of this, I just wanted someone to treat me like a human. So when it was all done (they saved the pubic patting for last), I made eye contact with the girl and asked, "Would you like a cigarette?" She laughed. She really was a human!! She kindly declined and said she doesn't smoke.

And Searcher was mortified.

Yay, me!


Y'all have a good day.

Ya Never Know What's Going to Come Out of a Dog's Butt

Hubby and I have noticed that Honey, our MinPin, has suddenly forgotten her house-training. I was away this weekend (my Aunt's funeral - another day, another blog) and he was quite fed up with picking up dog poo. I flew to MD on Friday with Searcher, and we returned home on Sunday. I built in a day of annual leave on Monday, thinking I might need to rest. Dang, I'm smart! Slept 12 hours between Sunday evening and Monday 10:30am. And I was home with the Girls all day.

Sure enough, Honey left me a deposit. I picked her up and cleaned up the mess while scolding in my harsh tones. Then I put her outside. A while later, she was ready to come back inside. I noticed a remainder hanging from her backside. I grabbed a tissue to dab this away, except it kept coming out! I pulled with tissue, and whatever it was kept coming out, and coming out! Mind you, this is an 8 pound MinPin!!!! Finally, it was out entirely, and I determined it to be an entire dryer sheet!!!! Dang! Not only was this weird and strangely amusing, but I pondered how lucky we were that it hadn't choked her going down, or twisted her intestines coming out. Lucky Pup! And she didn't seem bothered by the process at all. Just another day in dumb dogdom. I would really expect this of Molly; after all, Beagles are notorious for eating everything, having descended from the goat family.

Dogs. Gotta love 'em. Our outside working dog, a hound-Beagle mix named Trixie, was barking at around 11 pm. Searcher went outside to see what the deal was. When I went to see why Searcher left the house, there was an encounter going on next door. Here it is in Searcher's words, only I'm blanking out the foul language: Ok, so it's an average night. I'm online talkin to people and I hear my dog start barking. I'm like ugh, it's 11 at night what is she barking at?!? So I open the door and see no one and go back inside. Then she starts barking again and so I open the door and this time I walk outside with a freshly opened Butterfinger. Well, I hear yelling. Next door. I look over and there's a cop pointing a tazer gun at my neighbor dude. Dude's on his knees on the ground yelling, his wife's crying holding their baby and the cop's saying, "STAY ON THE GROUND!" And the guy's like "F___ YOU BITCH!" So the cop kept saying "DON'T MOVE! STAY ON THE GROUND!" And the other guy kept saying, "F___YOU!" And he got up and started walking towards the officer and he was like "DON'T MOVE!" And the guy was like "You don't have a tazer, you won't blah blah" and then the cop shot him lol. Mom had come outside by that point and was standing behind me. We heard the clicking noise of the tazer gun. I bit into my Butterfinger as mom and I hid in the darkness at home and she's like "What is this, a movie?!?" I swear, it's the weirdest thing I've ever seen! So, the guy I guess ended up laying on the ground and the cop alerted the people on his walkie talkie thing that he deployed the tazer lol. Then back up came. 2 more cop cars. The cop was like "So did it hurt?" and the guy was like "Yeah" and so when the back up got there I was like ok mom, show's over. She told me that they had a bad fight last week. His wife was screaming "I don't even know you anymore!" and stuff like that. It's really sad though cuz they have the little baby. This guy's a pothead anyway. He needs to be in jail after all this. Jackass. Poor wife. Poor baby. Stupid man. So that was our excitement. This is the guy I described in an earlier blog, smokes pot outside a lot. Not that pot smokers are all wife beaters! But this one is. He is in jail on DV and resisting arrest, and his bail is set for a total of $11,000.00. I feel so sorry for the wife and kid. When they moved in, I took them brownies, no thank you or hellos outside. They have stuck very much to themselves. Knowing what I know about the cycle of abuse, I think I'll go over tomorrow and see if the wife would like a cuppa tea or something. I see no other cars there, like family or friends for support. She must be very lonesome.

I'll write about Aunt Cath's memorial service and wake another night. Almost time for House!!

~~me

I Open My Mouth Twice a Day to Change Feet

Ok. Ever since I was little (and that was a looooong time ago), I have been quite adept at saying the wrong thing. It's not that there is absolutely NO filter between my brain and mouth, it's just that the filter needs to be reset, I guess. This is never more amusing than at work. While reading the following, please keep in mind that I am an OB/GYN nurse practitioner.

When first licensed, and able to work on my own, I had a very busy, very long, very tiring day, complicated by having many obese, large-ginormously cystic-breasted women. These puppies take a long time to examine.

Allow me to digress a moment: readers (specifically women) are you checking your breasts for lumps once a month? Should be after your period. If you don't get one anymore, first, Congratulations! Ain't it nice not to have your period? :o) So check your puppies on the first day of each month. Let your monthly bill-paying be a reminder. And if you're 40 and over, get a mammogram every year. One of those can find a bad spot up to 10 years before you can feel it. And get a professional (come see me!) check your breasts once a year, more often if you have problems. If you think something is wrong and your NP or Doc gaffs you off, get a second opinion. Ok, I'm off the soapbox. Back to story.

My last patient of this horrible day was a sexually active 16 year old, first such exam. I was my usual put-them-at-ease self until the DUN-DUN-DUNNNNNNN! breast exam. I was weary and was sort of on remote control. This young lady had smooth tissued, B-cuppers. Absentmindedly, I said, "Nice breasts!" Well, you should have seen the look on her face. I thought she was gonna run out of the room in her paper drapes. So I start furiously back-peddling. "No, you don't understand......" and I explained my day and the reason for my comment. Still, she looked wary, at least. "Really," I said, "I'm not gay. I'm married and have three kids!" This calmed her enough to let me finish her exam. As you know, we work top to bottom, so to speak, so for her, the worst was yet to come.

Fast fwd. some years (don't forget, I've been working at the health department for 23 years). I am doing an exam on a lady I've known for quite a while, one of my favorites. She's a tiny, thin thing and the first patient I had seen who had had a laparoscopic gallbladder removal. I have an 8-inch incision from mine, which they reused when I gave my Dad a kidney, but that's another story. I get to the breast exam. I step back and ask her to raise her arms to be sure the breasts lift equally. Just then, I notice those tiny scars from her GB surgery and say, "Wow! You're so lucky!" She looked down, put her hands over her breasts and said "I always thought they were too small!" You know, she was in again today, and years later, we still laugh over that.

And the latest happened just last week. First know that when someone has their blood drawn, or any painful procedure, and gets fainty, more than likely they have an empty stomach and low blood sugar. We get them a soda and they perk up real nice-like. We keep some of the little 6-ounce sodas in the fridge for just such occasions. So this teenaged girl comes in for an STD check. Seems she and some friends rented a hotel in town and she "got stupid." I clarified; she used drugs. I already noticed that her pupils were so dilated that I truly couldn't tell what color her eyes were. Hmmmm. I asked her what drugs she did at the hotel. "A little coke, pot, and alchohol." Ok. I asked when she last used. "Oh, a while ago." Experience tells me this could be two months, weeks, days or even hours. So I asked "How long is that? Now, tell the truth. Your eyes are so dilated I can't tell what color they are." She said yesterday. So I asked her what she used. "A little coke, some pot, drank alcohol." We discussed drug counseling, which she seemed positive about. Or I could be hooked like a stupid fish, whatever. We do the referrals and pray hard. I finished her exam and I told her that next she would see the nurse and have her blood drawn for syphilis and HIV. She said, "Oh, I hope I don't faint." "Haven't you eaten today?" I queried. No, not all day, she said. So I told her that we'd get her something. She was eager for food (typical drug thing) and asked what we had. Without thinking, I said ............."A little coke." Her eyes got REAL wide, and the next second, I clarified, "NO, not THAT kind! Coca-cola!!! We have these little cans of coke!" Then we both had a good laugh. And I gave her that and the yogurt from my lunch. She didn't faint. Or report me for being an idiot.

Y'all have a pleasant evening.

Life Goes On.......

My Aunt Cathy died Saturday morning at 2:45. I hadn't planned on flying back to MD for the memorial service, but her long-time partner called me twice with the arrangements. I decided to fly up (Searcher will come, too, paying most of her own ticket). I think he needs some support. Plus, we "Florida Family," as my Aunt called us, are sensible and not alcoholics. A plus for my Mom's side of the family. A MSW student could have a lot of fun with interviews of this group! Sum it up as "People Need the Lord."

So, life goes on.

We have a rule here that the puppies are not allowed to annoy us while we're eating. They do pretty well, especially when we're at the table, but we often eat watching t.v. The MSW student would scold!! Tonight, I had my bowl of yummies and made The Girls get down. I pushed the couch cushions to the middle and opposite end, to be out of my way. After a few minutes, without me noticing, Molly jumped up on the opposite end of the couch, burying herself under the pillows. I figured this out as she crawled under the pillows on her belly, like a reptile, and poked her head out on my end as if to say, "Whatcha eatin'?" I laughed, but did make her get down.

I fired someone Friday. Not the first time; I had fired someone in my first incarnation as a supervisor back in the early 90's. That was more cut-and-dried. This case was difficult. The person was almost at the end of their probationary period, and looking back, I didn't see improvement in several areas. Patients could be in danger, possibly. I did what I had to do, but it was difficult. The nsg. director was with me, did most of the talking, actually. We kept things broad and didn't formally document anything on her record, which will enhance her chances of getting employment in the future. We just weren't a good fit. It was a difficult decision, not made alone, not made lightly, and with full support of all upper management. But it still sucks.

My Dad continues to fail. He feels pretty bad now. One positive thing is Hospice providing him with Lidocaine patches. He applies these to his back and knees. If he were healthy, he would have had hip and knee replacements by now, but all docs figure he'd die on the table. These patches are really helping him, though. We thank God for small blessings. Dad would ask that you pray for him to go quickly. He's SO ready. Beam him up, Jesus! I'll cry like a baby, but not for his sake. It'll be pure selfishness. If everybody had a Dad like mine, the world would be nearly perfect.

Enough ruminating. Y'all have a good night.