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I want it all she says
while reaching, reaching, reaching
with one open hand
the other held close
afraid to release what was
doubting what could be
she says I know that
two hands are better than one
but one dream is better than none
Click here for more dreamy scribblings….
Pattern: Daisy by Stephanie Pearl McPhee (available here for free)
Yarn: Debbie Mumm in Beeswax
Finally! Knitting reappears!
My brother and sister-in-law are expecting a baby girl this May. My very first niece! ( No nephews either.)
I’ve made this sweater several times before. This sweet pattern is simple and easy to alter if you wanted to add your own embellishments. Here I left it plain as the yarn created enough interest with several shades of yellow. I have enough yarn left over to make a matching hat. I’m making a baby-sized Lace Rib Cap.
she spirals in vain
as her mind ever wanders
in search of respite
and relief from her very
Click here for more impressions…
I was browsing a bookstore in the Tokyo airport to help me pass time during a layover when I spotted this little paper back. I remembered Anhelo’s positive review on Pajiba. I’ve never read any of Mirakami’s other novels, so I can’t compare his works.
What I Talk About When I Talk About Running is a collection of Haruki Mirakami’s thoughts on running and its relationship to him and his work. Don’t read this expecting to learn Mirakami’s life story or even to learn about his writing process. It is about running. Only running as it pertains to his life. For that reason, if you have no passion or even a passing interest in running – this is not the book for you. This man has run a marathon each year for over twenty years. He has also delved into triathlons. Interestingly enough, he never posts his times for races. Instead he details races and his feelings and his physical reactions to each mile.
I ran cross country in high school. I continued running solo during college. I was training for my first marathon when a foot injury left me sidelined for months. During that time I was beginning nursing school. I never regained my momentum, and I still struggle to reach that same discipline. I try because I like who I am as a runner. Long-distance running suits me. I don’t really understand why someone would only run a mile or two, for it takes me that long (sometimes longer) to get settled into my running groove. I enjoy the solitude. I enjoy the feeling of my muscles working, my blood pumping, and the wiping clean of my mind. Running is a form of therapy. I believe that it saves me from my depressive tendencies. It has helped me with my sleeping problems. I’m not sure what exactly I think about when running. The beginning of the run may include thoughts of the day and any current problems, but as the run progresses it all just disappears. I simply concentrate on every step and breath – a kind of meditation.
Mirakami describes his own mental state when running:
“I’m often asked what I think about as I run. Usually people who ask this have never run long distances themselves. I always ponder the question. What exactly do I think about when I’m running? I don’t have a clue… I just run. I run in a void. Or maybe I should put it another way: I run in order to acquire a void.”
The perfect response. I run in order to acquire a void. I’m taking that as my own. I also adore his chosen epitaph:
Writer and Runner
At Least He Never Walked
Doctors are people. Like every other place on earth, you will find some you like and some you can’t stand.
There is this little turd of a man that we’ll call Dr. Asshole. Even on his best days he is nothing but a walking condescension to the nurses.
The other morning I received report on one of his patients. The night nurse let me know there had been an order yesterday to remove a PICC line, but that the patient had refused to let the day nurse do so. When rounding, I found the patient getting in the shower. I told her that I’d be back later to remove the line. If she was still refusing, she’d need to discuss this with Dr. Asshole when he rounded this morning.
I came back to the station after finishing my rounds to find said asshole fuming. Why is that line still in? What? It could be infected! The patient refused? Is she the doctor? Here. Give her a pen and the order sheets. I need to write up that nurse. Where are the forms? Where is Nurse Manager? Of course she’s not here. She’s never here when I need her….
I didn’t respond at all the way he wanted. I found the form he wanted, and then I just calmly told him that I’d be taking that line out now. I passed Nurse Manager in the hall and filled her in.
He’s the doctor. There was an order to remove the line. If there’s a question of infection, then that line needs to go. Now he obviously said nothing to the nurse or patient or even wrote in his progress notes his concern for infection. There have been no labs for days. Not even a CBC to check the WBC. No fevers. No other symptoms suggesting infection. The site looks fine. No labs ordered for this morning or the next. Where are the labs if you’re thinking infection? Where are the antibiotics? I know the nurse yesterday. She’s a bit of a pushover. I’m sure the patient wasn’t firmly refusing – just questioning if she couldn’t just leave it until discharge as she expected to go home the next day. Who wants another unnecessary stick?
I walked into the patient’s room to find her sitting on the side of the bed with a worried look on her face. “That doctor was mad. I hope I didn’t get you in trouble.”
“It’s fine. He was just worried about infection. That’s why he wanted your line out yesterday. I’ll take it out now.”
“I don’t think the nurses like him. There’s a new group every time I go to his office. Try to avoid him when you go back.”
I made it back to the station in time to hear him yelling as he walked out. “I’m not in a bad mood!” Again, not the response he wanted as the station erupted in unsuccessfully suppressed laughter.
The next day the doctor handed me a chart with discharge orders for the lady. “Now, I want her to get a shot of Rocephin before she goes – for that arm. Because of the extra day. Do you know what I’m talking about?”
I stared back for a moment before nodding. Did he really not remember ranting to me yesterday?
He turned to walk out of the station, then looked over his shoulder at me and grinned as he made his way out. I could hear him chuckling down the hall.
sitting in silence,
the vigilant stray not from
their eternal post
Click here for more golden impressions…
Photo taken at the Grand Palace and Temple of the Emerald Buddha in Bangkok, Thailand.
Last week’s challenge was to give proofs of love. I wanted to do this with someone I’m not necessarily close to. In this case, I picked my sister-in-law. She and my brother are living several states away, and they are expecting their first baby (the entire family’s first baby) in May. They’re not going to be visiting before the due date, and none of the family/friends from either side are coming up until the baby’s birth or after. So I’m arranging a long-distance baby shower. I’ve picked a week for all family and friends interested to send gifts and cards. I’m imagining her having a week of surprises. My brother is in on it, and he’ll be decorating their apartment with supplies I send him.
This week’s resolution is to not expect praise or appreciation. That’s going to be hard for the challenge will extend to all areas of my life, including work. I’ve been feeling resentful towards my manager lately for just that – not giving praise or appreciation for her staff. But I have to remind myself that I didn’t choose nursing in order to receive praise.
Your first day back from work after any extended time off should be relatively easy. A shift that helps get you back into your groove. I got shoved back into that sadistic groove by a hellish shift. It was so bad that the next morning a patient of mine died, and it was still a better day than the first.*
Most of my problems were related to lab draws. I had several patients that had timed and stat lab draws. One was on potassium protocol with a level I couldn’t seem to get higher than 2.7. The others were surgical patients, and the scheduling of their surgeries depended on those results. And so I had doctors circling me all day long, asking after those labs. (Labs that policy states are to be drawn by our lab techs. That means we don’t get supplied with vials and butterfly needles.)
I check the computer for the current status of the labs. “In Progress” used to mean the specimen was in the lab being processed. Apparently, now it could mean that its being processed, that it has only been collected, or that no one has done a damn thing at all about your stat lab.
It’s true that the lab is understaffed at times. There have been times in the past that I was notified while calling about my labs that only one lab tech was available to draw blood for the entire hospital. I get it. But if that’s going to be a norm, the units should be notified and supplies should be available for us to draw at least our stat and timed labs.
Which leads to the other problem on my unit – there are no supplies. This is how our manager has decided we will save money. I was told that while I was gone the nurses were even having to take on more patients so she could save money by not having another nurse on the clock. Nice.
I’ve begun my third year in nursing. Happy Nursing Birthday to Me!
*This was an elderly lady with a DNR and family at her side. I’d consider myself blessed to be able to die peacefully with my sister and daughter whispering love.
Welcome to Airworld…
Ryan Bingham is a Career Transition Counselor – a fancy title for someone whose job is to smooth the firing process by “coaching people to understand job loss as an opportunity for personal and spiritual growth.” Bingham is a salesman. A motivational speaker. A brain washer.His job requires travel. A lot of travel. So much that Bingham sees the planes, airports, and hotels as home. Especially now as we find him divorced and technically homeless.
He is always insisting he’s happy with his life, though the constant defense of his lifestyle rings false. His seemingly only goal is to reach a million flyer miles before leaving his current job for another company. A mystery company for he doesn’t even know what they do. He doesn’t have many relationships to speak of: co-workers; the staff of airlines, airports, and hotels; and family. A family who is never sure what he does or where he is.
After having seen the trailers for the movie, I kept waiting for Anna Kendrick’s character to show up. About halfway through the book I realized that Anna Kendrick was the reader. The entire novel is first person – Ryan Bingham’s narration of his life to the reader. In order to translate that to film, Bingham needs someone to share his secrets.
This book was of particularly good timing as I read it during a 10-hr layover in Tokyo. It was a quick read, but soon forgotten. None of the characters are very likeable. Ryan Bingham is a fast talker, capable of rationalizing all behaviors. He is an expert at reading people, for people are his business.
One of my favorites of his observations:
“The lines we draw that make us who we are potent by virtue of being nonnegotiable, and even, at some level, indefensible… To apologize for your personal absolutes… means apologizing for your very existence.”