Bigger or Better: Life outside of Texas

The tagline of one of Houston's religious radio station is "God Listens." That's a pretty good endorsement. I've become less and less enthused about cooking, and consequently meal prep has gotten more and more stressful. Maybe it's because being a grad student on top of working full-time has finally caught up to me. Maybe it's because I know I will dirty dishes that Mark will end up washing. Maybe I'm lazy. I don't know. But figuring out what we will eat has become a dreaded responsibility. And so I pray, in my innermost heart, that someone else will provide some meals for us. Obviously this is not a noble cause. It's not even strictly necessary, because we could eat cans of soup or ravioli or (Mark's vote) cereal. That's part of why I haven't told anyone; I haven't even expressly asked God for such food delivery. But even so, He listened. Right after church today, a lady approached me and said she would like to invite Mark a...

As the media has dredged up the horror of abuse of power and sexuality at the cost of human innocence, I cannot help but hurt. Oh, ladies, I am so sorry. Absolutely sorry. I weep with you to think of the pain, hurt, turmoil, self-doubt, and loss of trust that so many like-minded men have caused. It is painful to think how things could go wrong, and wrenchingly chilling to realize that it did, in fact, go wrong. It wronged girls, their families, and even the entirety of the human race. Such pervasive abuse has exacted an exorbitant cost, one that no human—or even a group of them--can repay: mental repercussions, physical reminders, maligned relationships, damaged integrity, and the growth of fear and hate instead of joy and love. This is a twisting of authority and a mangling of sex that we cannot stand for; indeed, that we are required to stand against. No man, no person, that commits sexual abuse can walk away unscathed. And for that, I also weep. How humanity has fallen! Like King D...

When I got my patient assignment this past weekend, I knew it would be rough. Continuous bladder irrigation (CBI), Alzheimer's surgical patient, and an agitated/combative altered mental status (AMS) ER patient. It was the last one that worried me. At the start of shift, he appeared to be sleeping. While getting his breathing treatment, he aroused enough to sit up, thrash around, and say, "Wait a minute." I had hopes that he would swallow his pills (lasix for his super-crackly lungs, buspar for his agitation)...but it turns out that "Wait a minute" was a default setting and didn't represent alertness. He couldn't do what we asked (like open his mouth for pills. that would have been nice) even when he was agitated rather than sedated. His wife tried to get him to engage, to get him alert. She wheedled with food mostly. "You want a pancake? I have a pancake for you." At this point he was on BiPAP with a face mask, so the rapid response nurse (kin...

A surprising amount of nursing work requires communication. So when I can't communicate with my patient (usually because of language barriers or hearing issues, but sometimes because of poor cognition), it feels like my job becomes twice as difficult. Out of the 3 potential scenarios mentioned, I prefer getting a hearing-impaired patient. As long as I don't have laryngitis, I can voice (haha, pun intended) my instructions, teaching, etc. by shouting. So for the past 3 days, I've been shouting to talk to my nearly-deaf patient. It's been a bit tricky, because I can't go into his room without donning the isolation gown/mask/gloves, so I have to shout even louder so that he can hear me from the door. A couple of times, my co-workers heard me and thought a patient was calling out for help. Nope. Just me. Yelling. Totally normal. I've experienced a similar situation before. Hearing-impaired old man, on isolation...except this one had a little bit of dementia, ...

There really isn't such a thing as "holidays" in the hospital setting. Since no one has figured out how to simultaneously cure sick people, even if it's only temporary, the hospital won't close and the nurses/doctors/assistants still need to show up to work. White, Fluffy, Cold stuff right outside our Houston home But I had Christmas Eve through New Year's Day off, so Mark and I went north to visit family and real snow (as compared to the morning-long wonder of Houston snow, which apparently doesn't count). Mark's interaction with Northern Snow was next to nil, since he had a cold and consequently spent most of the time indoors. That would have been my response, too, but I wanted to test out my new snow boots. I tromped around in it without getting cold and wet feet, so I call it a success. I've been accumulating winter gear ever since dating my Northern man; our first winter together, I tried out a new winter coat. Next winter item to co...

A couple weeks ago, as I was drifting off to sleep, I realized something that could change my perception of the universe: "lemon" and "melon" are spelled with the same letters . Wow, I thought, I hope I remember this when I wake up. Well, I did remember, but I've spent several weeks trying to figure out the significance of the statement, and I've got nothing. Okay, not quite nothing: lemons and melons are both fruits, and sleep is weird. I've had multiple occasions where I have thought in my semi-conscious sleep state, "Self, this is important, " or "Self, this is hilarious, " but the truth is, in the light of day, these epiphanies are just the illogical musings of a slumbering mind. To my husband's amusement, sometimes my actions while asleep are equally illogical. Apparently I put my pillows on top of my head in the middle of the night, and a couple times I've startled myself awake by finding that I am basically doing...

Lately, the hospital work has gotten so demanding that it is incredibly discouraging to face the 12 hours ahead of me. Especially because I have become not-a-morning-person (or at least not until 9am). Anything that helps the time go either quickly or funly (yes, that's not a word, but I'm using parallel construction here) is a welcome relief. Anything that makes me feel marginally needed helps the day feel like a success. So I am proud to say that I saved a life yesterday. It was a small life. No bigger than my thumb. Despite its size, there's something definitely out-of-place (one might say it sticks out like a sore thumb . hahaha) in the moth flying the hospital hallways. You know what else sticks out like a sore thumb? A nurse erratically walking the hallway closing her hands on empty air. But by golly, I was gonna save that tiny life. Finally, with a cup and a flier on an upcoming nursing conference, I caught the little guy (or girl. I don't know moth biology) a...