Bigger or Better: Life outside of Texas

I got a back brace from my parents for Christmas. Technically speaking, I got it the day after Christmas, because I worked Christmas Day (see photographic evidence below). I put a poinsettia tree ornament in my hair, 'cuz it's important to look festive So Mark and I opened presents on Boxing Day, with no major surprises, because my family believes in following Wish Lists. Thus, I had requested said back brace, which I'm excited to use at work, because I want every benefit a supported and correctly-postured back can bring to someone who is still working through some pain from a lumbar discectomy. However, on opening the package, I discovered that getting the back brace on was not exactly intuitive, and the instructions would probably be more helpful if they were in a different language. Although maybe Google Translate is how the current instruction manual exists, in which case we would be entirely dependent on trial & error. Mark trying to figure it out Her

Sometimes I forget that blogging makes me happy. It helps me stay connected to my family. Yes, blogger.com is a third-party provider of family togetherness. It's even better than Facebook, because no one (to date) has countered an opinion against any of my blog posts. Today's blog post title is taken from a pin I gave myself from my boss's office after I stopped the water machine from forming a lake in the Patient/Family Lounge. The episode was quite exciting; gallons of water cascaded off of the counter from underneath the ice/water machine and soaked the drawers, the floor, and a bunch of towels we threw down. Unfortunately, unplugging the machine didn't stop the flow, but a custodian lady and I successfully removed a wooden panel covering the pipe works, and I pulled the lever to turn off the water. Nobody was offering me a gold star, so I picked out afore-mentioned pin from a tray of nursing trinket things our unit director had. I thought it applied, since nobody

Thanksgiving happened quickly. One minute I was getting on a plane in Houston, and the next I was getting off a plane in Houston. Obviously that's not what occurred, because I have photo evidence saying otherwise. Or actually Mark does, because he took more photos. One would think that lots of photos meant he really enjoyed the trip, but actually he found it a little stressful. My family is...loud. I didn't ever realize it until Mark commented on it. And then I discovered, yes, my family--especially my siblings--is intense. Playing games involves a lot of shouted semi-dramatic arguments. Group conversations involve talking over others, loudly one-upping the others in the discussion; and apparently the louder it is, the funnier it is (guessing from the laughter). ~~~~~~~~An Aside on the Games~~~~~~~ We played several rounds of Telestrations , where a word is drawn, then with the next player written, then with the next drawn, etc. I took pics of the most artistic/outlandish

After 4 months, I am finally back at work. But let's rewind to 2 weeks ago when Mark and I traveled to see his family. The little guy, being in charge Before going up to Idaho by bus, we saw his brother's family in Utah. Actually, it's sort of a habit now. Oh, we're flying into Salt Lake? Let's visit David and company and then they can pick us up from the airport . They are long-suffering. Mark and I get to be "uncle"and "aunt" there, which is always fun, because it means that I am liked just for being related. Good smiles and fall colors I listened to the older boys tell me about their dragon game, and stacked blocks and read books with the youngest. We got to go with them to Cornbelly's (a fall family fair) and eat s'mores over a fire, but I think their favorite part was when Uncle Mark played Halo with them. He loves pumpkins. I love his hat. So we're friends. My favorite part was the fair. There was a swing

When I hear the word "cistern," I wonder why the formal plural of sister is not "sistren" since the formal plural of brother is "brethren." Truly I could have been a philosopher. Last week, Mark took me adventuring near Downtown Houston. Mainly, to the cistern. I have lived in Houston basically my whole life, and I never knew Houston had a cistern. Turns out once-upon-a-time, the giant one-and-a-half football field tank kept the drinking water for the city. And now it doesn't, which is why we were allowed to go inside it. Otherwise, we would obviously be contaminating Houstonian's drinking water. The white floating blocks are for artistic purposes that will be explained later The huge underground space reminded Mark of the Mines of Moria in Lord of the Rings. Meaning, of course, that the place isn't captured well in poor lighting. Thus, most of my pics from the day trip are not  in the cistern. Which, I suppose, is dumb if that's

I write this in support of mothers. Granted, I am basically unqualified on this topic. [Yes, I have a cat, and it's kinda like she's my baby, assuming that I would as a mother just leave dry cereal on the floor and a bowl of water that I maybe change twice a week, and who I bathe and brush like once a month. Don't look to me for an example.] Since 1st grade I knew I wanted to be a mother. Amazingly, even though I see how hard being a mother is, [feeding and clothing and teaching and cleaning and praying, all with a sleep deficit. I don't function well with sleep deficits.] that is still my goal. I am beginning to suspect that it is because  of the hard work that I want to be a mother. No, I'm not a masochist. I can see  how honorable the calling of motherhood is. It is the honor that draws me; not for fame or praise, but for the sense of fulfillment inherent in mothering. Today I was reading a short history of a faithful mother in the 1800s who opened her home fo

There are just so many phrases around the word 'butt' that it makes for easy title creation. Well, as long as my post is about butts. Two weeks ago I started physical rehabilitation for my spinal surgery. I will freely admit that I thought I was a star patient going in; I was exercising on the elliptical, I could do upper-body weights as long as I was lying flat, I could balance on a yoga ball, I practiced planking.... I quickly realized that the physical therapist figured out where in my core I was most weak, and made me work on that. Silly competent therapist. He wasn't even impressed with the exercises I was already doing. Except for the yoga ball. He was impressed by that. I have learned valuable lessons. Such as      Cycling leisurely for 8 minutes burns 17 calories.      Rehab is work. And it hurts.      A surgical incision in the "core" area affects a whole lotta movement.      My "core" includes not only my abs and lower back but also m

Because of school and my spine problems, Mark and I have gone on Zero fun trips this summer. It made for a boring Instagram feed. Fortunately, my car registration and vehicle inspection expired 3 days ago, and it forced our hand into a trip. No, we did not do anything illegal. So now that you are not accomplices, how, you may ask, does vehicle registration have anything to do with fun trips? Strangely, the answer is: car repairs. A month or two ago, for a reason that I don't remember (I was otherwise occupied with back problems, if you recall), Mark took my car in to get its struts replaced. Unfortunately, that led to my Anti-Lock Braking System malfunctioning, which led to 2 more trips to the mechanic last month. Because we had to wait for ordered car parts to arrive, that meant that my car finally got released from the car 'clinic' on the 2nd-to-last day of August. The very next day, I took my car in to get inspected. It failed. The mechanic must have disconnected

Yesterday I got to experience surgery for the first time. Well, sort-of. I don't remember anything about the surgery, but I'm pretty sure it happened, because my lower back is in plenty of pain and my right leg is not. So something must have been done. Plus, my back was painted orange with iodine, and I have an occlusive dressing covered by a transparent dressing on my lower back. That, and my throat hurts. Which makes sense if someone placed a breathing tube down into my trachea. Oh, and I have some lung congestion and atelectasis (my small airways aren't opening all the way and have some mucus in them. This is because artificial breathing does not really work at fully opening airways, since the positive pressure needed to force them open usually ends up damaging the lungs. Yeah, breathing naturally is better, since the diaphragm and abdominal muscles can create negative pressure to pull air into the airways and open those little alveoli up). I'm sad I didn't ge

Unless you're spineless. Like jellyfish. I have had two more epidurals than I ever thought I would have in my entire adult life, and I'm not even pregnant, let alone giving birth. [I should say that I know epidurals are used outside of birth; thoracic surgeons at work used to use epidurals a lot for pain management, but most of the patients are in the "geriatric" category] I have taken off from work way more time than I ever thought I would for a non-maternity-related reason. And it's all because this lumbar herniated disc thing is taking longer to work through than I thought. Which is why, after prayers, sweat, tears, and sleepless nights, I'm going to have spinal surgery. Because I just haven't made significant-enough progress with just the epidurals. They have reduced my pain, but they haven't restored my function. I still have plans to travel and lose at more sports and give piggy-back rides, run around, and have children that will step o

I am giving myself a writing prompt. The topic: onions. Turns out I have a lot to say about onions. For one, I get a pretty fierce physiological reaction from slicing onions. It definitely makes me cry. A lot. For a long time (mostly under an hour, but still, that's too long). I tried assigning chopping onions to Mark, but I would still cry because whatever chemical they release was still in the air in our kitchen. So now I buy frozen chopped onions. More expensive than a whole onion, for sure, but a great time- and pain-saver. At some point, I should do a cost-benefit analysis on continuing to buy frozen onions or investing in onion goggles  so that I can do the chopping myself...or assign it to Mark. One of those. [you should check out the link. they're totally cool] For two, I really like onions in things. Which is why number one is so hard to work with. Onions are SO delicious cooked. And maybe sometimes raw, in hamburgers, if they're sliced really  thin. I can'

*"We" being mostly Me. Or rather, I LOCATION I have never been on bedrest/restricted activity before. I'm not sure whether it's better to have a bigger home to be bed-rested in (you know, for change in scenery. Right now we only have 1 bed and 1 couch, so my view options are limited...even if you count the ceiling as a scene) or to have small living quarters to ensure I don't have to walk very far to change rooms. Ruby & I cuddle more now ENTERTAINMENT So far, I have read 2 books, about 10 pounds of nursing journals (I'm not kidding. I stashed all the issues that I hadn't had time to read while in school under my bed, and now I'm catching up. I have written 33 posts on my nursing journal blog since being on medical leave), and various news articles. I've also watched lots of cat videos, several documentaries on the Vietnam war (Mark's choice), and about 2 seasons of a dark comedy Mark and I got into (he's a military history bu

I want to tell you all [and I want to point out that I didn't  use the Southern contraction just now] exactly how my lumbar herniated disc feels. I could claim it's for documenting the qualitative aspects of illness...but I am thinking that maybe my desire to tell comes from a desire for sympathy. Or at least as a desire to absolve my guilt for sitting on my butt for several weeks. Actually, that last one is pretty real. I feel like I should be working on my beach bod or de-cluttering the apartment, or maybe watering my plants. But, no. Butt, yes. So. Whatever the whys, here's the whats. It feels like pelvic cramps of the monthly menstrual variety, except confined to the right side. Sometimes the cramping extends from my hip/butt down the posteriolateral [i.e. back outer] side of my right leg all the way down to my ankle. It feels like the femoral head is bruising my hip socket, or that the femur is a little dislocated--like something isn't quite right but can eas

[ Lousy  in the sense that I cause difficulty, not that I have lice or anything.] This story stretches back a couple months, so brevity may  is not be one of the characteristics of this post. Once upon a time, in the first two weeks of May 2018, I did a clinical rotation at the morgue. It was pretty fascinating, but not really hands-on because I do not do autopsies [I'm not even sure nurse practitioners are allowed to do autopsies, but I definitely am not an expert in forensic nursing ] . Regardless, the point is that this rotation involved standing still while watching these pseudo-surgeries. I don't really like standing still, and this preference was accentuated because after a while, my right hip would kind-of ache. I complained of hip pain often enough that Mark told me to go see a doctor, already [he was nice about it, actually]. So mid-May, I tell my primary doctor that I've been having this achy hip, and I've noticed slight weakness in that leg, because I c

Today was the first time Mark and I have been able to attend the newly renovated Houston LDS Temple since Hurricane Harvey infiltrated the building. Which fact is a Big Deal to me. I forgot to take a pic, so I've drawn us in, bottom right corner Before Mark and I got married, we set out some goals for the marriage, and one of them was to attend a LDS temple once a month, assuming it is within a 2 hour drive. It is a holy house that usually brings me peace and purpose, so having the Houston temple out-of-commission for 8 months during a time when both Mark and I are stressed about school/work/general-human-ness stuff was Not Helping. We tried visiting other temples. The San Antonio temple is pretty close (3 hours), but it is a much smaller temple that became overwhelmed with the visits of all the LDS people in the Houston area, so we only went once. I had a plan to visit the next-closest temple, in Dallas, when Mark and I went up for a Penguins hockey game, but I became s

I was scared of this third-decade birthday. It just seems that the world expects you to know how to be an adult by age 30.  But I can't even floss my teeth on a regular basis   (unless that basis is yearly) . This is how TOUGH GUYS floss. With a .50 caliber machine gun I'm guessing denial kept me from asking for the day off from work. But it turned out fine. I talked with my co-workers about ways of staying young, different lotion regimens or dermabrasions. I mentioned that I had recently gotten Botox (for migraines, but some of the injection sites included my forehead and between my eyebrows) and hoped it could work in my favor. We had donuts, and pancit, and egg rolls, and boba drinks, and everyone at work basically was forced to celebrate with me!! Ha-ha! When I got home from work, I found Mark trying to make blueberry muffins for me (I like blueberry muffins. I like poppyseed muffins more, but that's okay). It really wasn't his fault that it wasn't worki

For the past two weeks, I have been spending a lot of time at the county morgue. I've seen lots of cold bodies. And the scene of death. And then their autopsies. Lots of really vivid memories to be made there. So, with the authority of 80+ hours of reviewing cause of death, I have some things to say. --For goodness sake, DON'T CO-SLEEP WITH YOUR BABY --Also, if you have a gun, LOCK IT UP. AND DON'T TOUCH IT WHEN YOU ARE ANGRY --Death from drug abuse doesn't discriminate between rich and poor. Don't waste your time or money on illicit drugs. --People with high blood alcohol levels do really stupid things. Don't be one of them. --Based on how many suicides came through the doors, we need to PAY ATTENTION TO MENTAL HEALTH. We need coping skills. --High blood pressure has a visible effect on internal organs. It's a problem. It can kill you. --WEAR A HELMET when riding on motorcycles. Bicycles, too. --Cars are really great at moving people arou

I'm starting to believe that Mark and I are destined to experience the odd and improbable. My data so far?    -way abnormal meeting-and-dating story [I'll write about it sometime. It involves dating sisters.]    -equally abnormal wedding due to near-fatal crash of his parents    -currently, uncommon division of labor (I work, he does laundry and dishes and vacuuming and grocery-shopping and volunteering. Although I hope we switch soon.) etc. I'm getting more evidence. This past weekend, my youngest brother got married, so Mark and I flew to Utah to reunite families again. We started with cautiously visiting his brother in SLC. Remarkably, the very morning Dave picked us up from the airport was the morning his sons threw up repeatedly. We stayed away from the house for a little bit playing Battleship at a shooting range. I actually wasn't too bad with the .22 rifle, but Mark still won. Armed with good hand hygiene, Mark and I visited with our two nauseated