Posts made in August, 2018

So, Take Your Medicine

Posted by on Aug 15, 2018 in Blog, Home Is Where The Story Starts | 2 comments

So, Take Your Medicine

In all of the cleaning out we did this past week, I found an old yellow note pad. The top few pages were a hand-written scene from my first book! Next on the pad was this. Since I have been a nurse now for 33 years it is obvious this was written around 15 years ago. But, I have to say, with all the changes in nursing, this has not changed. I hope you enjoy this humorous piece of nursing life. So, Take Your Medicine In eighteen years of nursing I have given a lot of pills. In fact, if I had a dollar for every pill I’ve given, well, that would be a lot of dollars! I have seen many changes in health care, not the least of which is the medications. For instance, the antacid thing. Was Tagamet before or after Pepcid? Wasn’t Pepcid the first “pretty purple pill” or was that Prilosec?   Anyway, in thinking back over all of those pills I can’t help but remember the pill takers, AKA patients. Since I personally observed all of these pills being swallowed—we are supposed to stand there and watch until the pill actually goes down—I have seen it all, and believe me, there are as many different ways to take pills as there are generations of penicillin.   First, of course, and every busy nurses favorite is the chug them all down at once method. You throw the entire cup of pills into your mouth at once, and swallow them down with a huge swig of your favorite liquid. This was my dad’s preferred method until one became lodged sideways in his esophagus providing him with a painfully memorable trip to the emergency room. Now he has joined the camp of the one by one crowd as well as the cut anything bigger than an aspirin in half fans.   Another area of difference is what goes in the mouth first, the pills of the water. Some can’t stand the taste of pills, or the pills stick to their tongue, so they take a drink first, then tip their head back and dump the pill/pills in. I’ve tried this but always ended up either choking or losing all the liquid the minute I opened my mouth. I guess some coordination is required here. The opposite of course is the pill first, then the water to flush it down. This doesn’t work for people with a dry mouth.   Two other variations are particularly interesting, (and if I’m stressed, entertaining.) The first is that group of people who manually “help” the pill on down. Some use their index finger to push the pill to the back of their mouth before trying to swallow. Last week, I had a patient who appeared to assist the pill right on down to her stomach! Amazing to watch. It reminded me of a stork or some other bird. Isn’t there a story in Aesop’s Fables about a stork and a narrow...

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All Our Ducks in a Dumpster

Posted by on Aug 10, 2018 in Blog, Home Is Where The Story Starts | 6 comments

All Our Ducks in a Dumpster

  A couple of mornings ago as I sat at my computer researching topics about which I need to know more, I remembered an article I wrote almost twenty years ago. It was never published and I thought it might be something I could spiff up and send out to a magazine. I knew it was somewhere in the files of my computer, but where?   Every time I get a new computer, I have Bruce move my files to the new one. It’s kind of like pulling a moving van up to the house and putting everything in:  trash, junk, things you don’t want—and  of course the ones you do.   So, now you know I’m not a very organized computer person. I do have some folders I’ve developed over the years for my books and speaking, but there is this massive file called “WRITING” that is kind of like the junk drawer in the kitchen or the back bedroom. It gets all the homeless, left-over pieces.   I started looking through the file and came upon documents that obviously belonged in another existing folder. So I moved them. Then I found documents that are clearly no longer necessary to keep, so I deleted them. Yes, I did.   As I worked through the file I couldn’t help but think of the process we are undertaking this week. Yesterday morning a dumpster was deposited at our house by our trash company. I am beyond excited for this grand cleaning out. It’s a big step for us. We are cleaning out the back bedroom, the one that gathered all of the things we didn’t know what to do with. Quilting things that belonged to his mother. Old family items. Some of his brothers’ things. Old blankets. A worn out single mattress. You get the picture.   We’ve even found a few treasures like two antique portable typewriters and a lifetime supply of thread in every color imaginable! Some things, like the treasures, we are finding necessary to keep. Others we will put in the pile to donate to the Salvation Army or give to family. And the rest will go in the dumpster. When we finish in that room we will move on to the basement to clean out the excess storage there. When done we’ll have space for the things we have in a storage unit. At least that’s the plan.   For the first time in our marriage we will have all our stuff in one house. I’m certain we won’t every become minimalists, and I know it doesn’t mean we will have all our ducks in a row, but it’s a start, isn’t it? Isn’t...

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My Right Guard

Posted by on Aug 1, 2018 in Blog, Home Is Where The Story Starts | 2 comments

My Right Guard

I was blessed this year to be able to visit Daddy for Father’s Day. I don’t take for granted any opportunity to spend time with him, especially since he suffered those two nasty strokes a few years ago. We are travelling the roads more often these days, but being with him on Father’s Day, that was special. That morning I stood beside the bed helping Mom get Daddy ready for his day. Mostly I stood around and watched because Mom is so good at caring for him, but I tried to be proactive and figure out what came next. I’m telling you, caring for someone at home is much different than hospitals. In hospitals we don’t have clothes. We have hospital gowns, and in case you haven’t been around one lately, I’ll let you in on a secret. They are open in the back. Real clothes are much harder to deal with. Anyway, I stood there and watched as Mom grabbed the deodorant. As the aerosol floated through the air, the scent brought a flood of nostalgia to me. (Did you know that smell is the most nostalgic of all of the senses? It’s true.) Anyway, before even seeing the can, the words “Right Guard” flew into my mind. I glanced over to where Mom was placing the can back on the dresser and sure enough, it was Right Guard. I grinned. Then, as frequently happens my mind took the idea and ran with it. I realized that not only has Daddy used Right Guard for as long as I can remember, he has always been my Right Guard, from the moment I was born. Let me share how. First, he was Right on Guard when I was little to make sure I was safe. He would hold my hand when we crossed the street. When my parents traveled by train from California to Nebraska with two preschoolers, they each took one of us to be in charge of. They were on it. Daddy had rules about where we could ride our bikes . . . to keep us safe. He paid attention to what we said when we came home from school and if something sounded wrong, he marched right in there to talk to the teacher. I always felt safe when Daddy was there. When I was little he told me that they had stopped the Korean War when he was in basic training because they heard he was coming. Of course he was kidding, but I believed him. When we were old enough to drive, he was Right on Guard to make sure we knew how to change a tire; change the oil; never, never, never pick up a hitchhiker; and don’t get in a hurry  to turn into traffic. If you wait you will always have an opportunity to go when it is safe. Not only was he Right on Guard, but he was a Right Guard. His rules had reasons. His policies were based...

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