Pitch. It's a card game?

I started my new clinical rotation today in Community Health. I was a little apprehensive about this because I heard that we are going to have to give an educational presentation in front of the senior citizen center. Actually I went into this today with an attitude that I normally don’t like to display. I went in wanting to hate Community Health.

I arrived to the small town where I was scheduled to be approximately ten minutes before my planned time. As I pull up I see the other nursing students sporting their maroon scrubs. We wait outside in a group to meet our instructor. I was not familiar with her beings I haven’t had a clinical experience prior today with her. All I had to go by was some peers that promised me she was great.

We do a bit of a self introduction so that she could learn a bit more about us. I hate this part of orientation. I do try and give the bare minimum information about myself. I usually state that my hometown is Sioux City, I have three kids, and I wanted to go into nursing after my mom had her stroke. I always get questioned about if I am married and what my mom thinks about being an influence on me continuing my education. People don’t need to know that I have been married twice by the time I was 20, divorced twice by 26, and that my mom has passed away so I have no exact way of knowing how she feels about influencing my decision into nursing; although, I am sure she would be proud and accepting of the idea. I don’t get it, but I just smile and go along with the ride.

After we were told exactly what we will be doing in Community Health, I become a bit anxious. I become anxious in a good way though. Surprising to me I am quite interested in Public Health and Community Health after the information that was given to us. Hmm…will I switch my goal of becoming a surgical or mental health nurse to becoming some sort of community health nurse? Maybe.

We were instructed that after lunch we will play Pitch with the senior citizens. That is all great BUT I had no idea what Pitch was. I have never even heard of it. So I went to lunch came back and I asked for information before we went to play this so called Pitch. I got made fun of because I didn’t know that Pitch was a card game.

I learned something today. I am not talking about learning that Pitch is a card game. I’m talking about something much more than that. This is something that many people don’t even understand or can even comprehend what I am talking about without experiencing it for themselves.

Going into this blind not knowing a lick about Pitch, I was more than nervous. I have done clinical with elderly people and let me tell you they do not like their routine changed. So how were they going to take me interrupting their afternoon ritual of playing a card game that I never even heard of?

I took a seat with another student nurse and three elderly women. I politely introduced myself and than sprung the news that I don’t know how to play Pitch. One of these ladies snapped back “Do you even know what cards are?” I smiled and replied “Yes, I even know the suits.” They started spitting off rules about bidding, trump cards, tricks, tray, etc. I was lost and scared that I was going to slow there card game.

The lady to my right had a hearing aid and explained that I would have to speak loud so she can hear me. The lady to my left explained that she is legally blind (she could see the cards when held about three inches from her face) and that she would need me to speak my cards when they are played. The other lady just smiled.

The first hand I got to deal; ten cards to each player and four cards in the middle. Clockwise the betting begun, I didn’t have a clue what was going on. I showed my cards to the lady on my right and she helped me through this hand. I still had no clue. The next hand was dealt by the lady that wanted me to be her eyes when I played a card. She even gave me tips on when I deal, that if I deal by twos and than throw one in the middle that it would be even and everyone would have ten cards and there would be four left in the middle. She was right.

After about six or seven hands I started to get the hang of it. I even started to get brave on my betting. Everyone sat around and everyone was smiling. I remembered to be the eyes when I threw down my card and I remembered to speak a bit louder than my normal for the ears could hear me.

This is what I am talking about, this is what I learned. I learned that these amazing individuals may need a little minor adjustment to have a conversation or to play a simple game of cards but they remain active. I learned a lot from these ladies; more than what they will ever know.
Not only did these ladies teach me the impossible of playing Pitch, they made me feel welcomed in their environment, in their lifestyle. I was their guest today and they had more heart than what I have seen in a very long time in a person.

I am ashamed and disappointed in myself for prejudging this clinical. I haven’t witnessed the actual Community Health part quite yet, but I tell you I am thankful to have met the women at that table. How would you feel to be the eyes for one lady and the ears for another all in the same day? I can’t describe the feeling that I got by playing Pitch. All I can say is I am very grateful to have got this experience.

That cat is out of the bag.

Well…I knew I was going to get the first phone call from my adopted parents. I was asked in a very sweet and accusing voice “Heather, do you know anything about my lilac bush?” Knowing that I really am a terrible liar I tried and said “you mean that bush outside your house that grows lilacs…hmm…nope.” I giggled and gave it all away. “You did it!” she exclaimed, “Honey it was the girls. Heather laughed.”

So I confessed. I am guilty. She stated that I needed to come by and pick it up and I explained I couldn’t that I was fresh out of underwear. It didn’t work. She seen that we bought a size 14 in undies and those are the biggest size Wal~Mart sells. She knew they weren’t mine. So I told her I would be over in a bit to get her lilac bush cleaned out. As soon as I said that her hubby came inside and said he has already got it cleaned. Phew! I explained the thong underwear we bought were her size. She didn’t go for that either.

See I never did any teepeeing growing up but I do have other stories that my best friend and I would do. All in all it was still fun even though I told on myself instantly. I knew that they would have a great sense of humor about it.

I think I am going to be that mom that supports my kids in little ‘pranks’ to their friends. How could I not when I love to do it myself? Well all within reason.

The good ole days...

I went out to the carnival again but this time I didn’t consume alcohol. My friend and I decided to ride the rides. Let’s just say I am not as young as I used to be. We were actually thankful when we ran out of tickets.

I tried my luck at the games because they had an awesome huge ball that looked like a magic 8ball. I didn’t win. Who would have thought that I wasn’t talented enough to throw a plastic ring around the neck of a bottle?

We than watched the fireworks. I tell you what I just love fireworks. I don’t know what it is but they always get me in awe.

Afterwards my friend and I went to Tom Tom’s for a couple of drinks. I held back and only had a couple of fuzzy navels. I’m so proud. Her brother came down and joined us and we chatted like old times. See this is my adopted family. I basically grew up with them. It was great remembering the good ole days.

As my friend and I got into her car we were talking about doing something that we have never done or haven’t done in a long time. Teepeeing a house came up in conversation because I have never participated in any activities of the sort. Honest…I have never teepeed a house.

We ran to Wal~Mart and bought thirty pairs of ladies brief underwear, one pair of thong panties that stated ‘single’, and off we went. We knew exactly who was going to get their lilac bush decorated. Her mom or I call her my adopted mom.

We pull up quietly and hang the underwear all around and than of course had to add the good ole butt-wipe. We laughed so much. I know that I will get the first phone call. I am always the guilty one! It’s worth it though.

I almost feel like a kid again. I know that sounds like an immature thing to have done but honestly I have never done anything of the sort and the owners of the house will get a great laugh at their newly decorated lilac bush.

Here is some pictures of what it started to look like. I didn’t take a picture of the finished bush.

In my normal day life...

I just want to say that in my normal day to day life, I don’t drink as much as it seems this last two weeks. Just as how life has shown everything has happened at once and everyone wants to go out at the same time. An added factor is I don’t have my kids so it makes it easy to say yes when I’m invited.

I do enjoy a drink though, that is no lie. Usually I do not drink in this magnitude of days though.

I don’t know why I felt compelled to put up this ‘disclaimer’. Maybe it’s because I don’t want my friends to intervene with some AA meetings or some stranger thinking all I do is party. Seriously though, I have fun when I go out and I know it seems that I have been doing so it great quantity lately but that is not my norm.

On another note it is almost one in the afternoon and I have done nothing but lay in bed watching some great Adam Sandler movies. He is hot! Not many recognize him as a sex idol but he rates right up there in my list. I think it is because I like the ‘goofy’ type of men. Sense of humor gets me every time.

I can’t believe I am going to quote my ex-husband, this would be ex-husband number deuce, “If you get her laughing, you are in like Flynn.” Priceless, huh?

Now I am just stalling. I don’t want to start my day. How lazy is that?

I conquered the hurricane!

Last night there was a local band playing down at the beer tent, next to the carnival. Now does anyone know why would they put a huge amount of intoxicated people who have altered perception next to all the spinning and lights of the carnival rides?

Well after several beers I went to find out. I conquered the Hurricane along with three others out of the group of six of us that went. What I don’t get is we walked right up to the ticket booth with beer at hand and than right over to the rides and they even hold your Budweiser for you. This worked fantastic for us.

The ride started and we were woo-hooing! It got faster and finally we are up in the air….spinning. The other couple didn’t enjoy it nearly as much as my carnival rides partner and me. Our hands are up in the air and we are hooting and a hollering. They are behind us threatening us within an inch of our lives.

The Hurricane stops and we get off. I was ready to get back on but was out of tickets. As saying thank you to the carnival guy who released the bar to let us get on our merry way, I asked can I ride again please? He let me and my riding partner stay on to ride one final time. This just shows that please and thank you go a long way.

We rode a few rides with our senses impaired and proudly I have to say nobody got sick….from our group.

Back at the beer tent they are getting ready to close. The band is playing only a couple of more songs and it is getting late. I reach in my pocket and pulled out a handful of tickets that you exchange for beer. Crap. I forgot that I ran into my friend who he kept giving me tickets. I spoke my concern about not wanting to waste them with the people I was with. So, the six of us line up to down two more beers a piece before closing time.

The good thing is tonight I get to do it all over again….but this time it is one on one and not in a group.

It's here....it's here!

I walked out to my mailbox and what did I see? It was a package for me!

Knowing exactly what was inside that small brown box just had me so excited. I ran inside and opened it up! And wow…it was even more amazing than what I was expecting.

What is it you ask? My magic 8ball phone has finally arrived.

Now this is a corded phone with no caller ID. I have to sit on my bed and talk which that was fine with me. I never knew that they made such a thing. Thank gosh I was on eBay.

These are the pictures from ebay...it looks so much better on my nightstand!

You got an allergic reaction where?

My phone rings. It is my sister. It’s that dreaded call that every parent hates to receive—you can tell in her voice--one of my children is sick or hurt.

She stated that Dalton told her that his ‘wee-wee’ was red and it hurt. The poor ‘lil guy was so embarrassed to tell her. So she called me to ask me what she needed to do. I explained that she was going to have to look at it.

She confirmed that it was red and swollen. In fact it must have been extremely swollen because she asked me if Dalton was circumcised—which he is—but she couldn’t tell because it was that swollen. :(

My sister mentioned that earlier she caught him scratching himself and now he is complaining of his precious jewel hurting. I not able to see what it looks like and I told her definitely don’t take a picture but you might have to take him to the emergency room. Which I said take him to the emergency room because he don’t have a doctor up there to go to.

I call the hospital beforehand so they will have all his information and a verbal consent to allow my sister to seek medical treatment for my child. Everything is taken care of on my end. Now the waiting game beings--she lives an hour from the hospital.

On her way up to the hospital she gets pulled over by a very kind police office. I was actually on the phone talking to my kids when it happened. It delayed the trip about ten minutes or so. I have already contacted Dalton’s dad to let him know what is going on and now I am getting text messages asking for an update and he hasn’t even allowed enough time for the drive yet. I explained as soon as I know what is happening I will call you immediately.

Than I wait…and wait…I hate hospitals. Not really, but you do have to wait accordingly to severity and sometimes that means hours.

I finally receive a call explaining that Dalton has had some sort of allergic reaction to something but the doctor is not exactly sure what gave the allergic reaction. I figured Dalton was going to have some sort of yeast infection beings he is swimming four or so hours a day and with it being red and swollen and itchy that it showed the signs and symptoms. I guess that is why I am not a doctor…I would misdiagnosis everyone.

Needless to say Dalton and Dalton’s most precious area is going to be fine. Just needs to take some anti-histamine and stay out of the pool till Monday. So, I contacted his dad and relayed that Dalton had some sort of allergic reaction that affected that part of his body. It could have been a different soap, a bug bite, some chemical in the pool, or many other things.

Phew...it’s every parent’s worst fear to get a call that something has happened to their child. So make sure you grab your kid tightly and tell them how much you love them. They are precious.

The little things in life...

As many know my kids are spending the summer across the state visiting my sister and other family that they don’t get to see during the school year. Now as anyone that knows me, even the slightest, this breaks my heart not to have them home. I hide it well when it comes to the kids because they are truly having a summer to remember. But I miss them…

I told myself that not only would I talk to them via telephone that I would write to them too. The kids have loved receiving my cards and letters. In fact I received my first letter back from my kids and of course it repeatedly states to ‘write back soon’.

The first card I sent, my sister called to describe the excitement that showed on their faces. If that doesn’t make a mother have those warm fuzzy feelings deep within her heart…nothing will. The second time I wrote I sent each kid their own card and five dollars to spend on treats when they are at the pool or gas station or whatever. Well the kids liked this more than the first time. In fact I received a call almost immediately.

“Mom, thank you so much for the card and the five dollars. I haven’t spent mine but Dalton had bought four pops,” explained Tiana, my excited daughter. I started to second guess my decision of sending money for treats. You see, I rarely let my kids drink sodas, so I can see them stocking up on it. There is nothing like that good ole sugar and caffeine buzz. All I could mumble out was “really”. All I can visualize is my youngest, sitting there surrounded by cases of Pepsi, Coke, or Mountain Dew. I see his teeth decaying as I’m speaking. Hearing my silence, my daughter must have realized what I was thinking because she than stated “Don’t worry mom, he didn’t drink them. He shook them up and watched them explode.” I instantly felt relief and thought that’s my boy.

I talked to my kids this morning and Ian, my middle child, tried to make some kool-aid or juice or something and must have not got the lid on tight and spilt it all over the fridge. Boy, my sister wasn’t happy about that but she was over it and explained that it happened over a week ago. I feel like I am a chapter behind what is going on with my kids. It’s hard but they will be home in a ‘lil over a month.

Dalton was told by my sisters’ friend this week that he should join a smiling contest. So when I talked to him this AM he is insisting that not only should he enter such a contest but that he would win. He even had the rationale of why he has the best smile. “I can smile real big and for a real long time”. “Mom, I would win a trophy, how cool would that be”. Now, I agree, he could win a smiling contest—hands down. I wouldn’t even begin to know where they hold such contests and I don’t like subjecting kids to beauty pageants or contests of the sort.

Now remembering why these conversations make me smile so intensely… “The little things in life often bring us the most joy”. The earlier people realize that, the happier they shall be.

Untill you spread your wings...

Well I think my interview went pretty darn good. I think my magic 8ball was correct…again. I was interviewed by three different ladies and they said that I will know shortly. Again, I’m not completely sure about the hours...but if it is meant to be…it will happen, right?

It is times like this that I think being a single mom is hard. Not only do I have to pretty much raise my kids by myself. Well scratch that. I do raise my kids by myself. Nevertheless, now I have to make sure whatever job I do have...takes the least amount of time away from them. And on top of that, I need to make sure that I would be able to afford child care for the times that they need it. No offense tended for any absent parent that is not raising their child fulltime…but this is where you have it easy. It might not be easy for you to only see your child/children a few days a month, but face it, the fulltime parent does have many more obstacles.

Don't take this as I am complaining. I'm a strong person and I can handle the obstacles that come my way. As so it is said "Untill you spread your wings, you will have no idea how far you will fly" and I plan on flying far...

On my X-mas list...a keg fridge...

Tonight a friend cooked me supper and a great supper it was. As many know I don’t eat much meat, but they cooked me a great steak with all the trimmings. After supper we went for a drive to see if any hot air balloons were up yet. You see, here in town they have the annual hot air balloon races and it starts tomorrow. It’s actually something that I love to see and hopefully one day I will get to ride in a hot air balloon.

Anyway, there were no hot air balloons. We ended up driving around town and they called a friend of theirs who has an amazing place to entertain guests. Let me say this house had a pool, hot tub, fire pit, and my favorite item the keg fridge. Yes, a keg fridge. A stainless-steel, kitchen-sized refrigerator converted with a beer tap up front for that great tasting cold beer at anytime of my liking. Seriously, how amazing is that? Needless to say, I met my new best friends.

Talk about being a party host, even when this was not a party but just the four of us, my beer glass never reached bottom—well till it was time to go. The funny thing is I am not originally from this town and my friend is, so the chances that we know any of the same people--and I don’t know anyone--are slim to none. We pull up and they introduce me to the lady of the house and than the man of the house came out—I recognize him. He sold me my fridge and stove less than a month ago and he is the father of a friend of mines oldest son. What a small world it is. This definitely made conversations pretty darn easy and funny.

You know when life gets you down, and it has me this last week, you just have got to get out there and drink some good ole cold beer. Okay, actually, surround yourself around good company and forget whatever had got you down, obviously it wasn’t worth it.

I am not sure I tell my good friends enough—male or female—exactly how much they do mean to me but seriously without them…I’d be lost.

Thanks to all my friends for keeping me liquored up and right on track in life.

Is opportunity knocking at my door?

Today was a good day. No. Today was a great day. It was my last day in OB, and for the most part OB was a great experience. There were eight of us second year nursing students; seven females and one male. I can honestly say that today the jokes got funny. See things that gross most normal people out don’t gross us nursing students out anymore. Let’s just say that the drinking fest over the weekend was out of the bag. Someone brought in sausage and the vegetarian cracks were slung at my friend and me whole-heartedly. I honestly haven’t laughed as hard as I did today in a very long time. This makes it a great day.

When I leave the hospital today I noticed that I had a voicemail but no missed calls. That is so annoying beings it might be from someone that I don’t care to listen to right at the moment but there is only one way to tell. So, I call my voicemail and it was the hospital that I was just leaving talking about an opening in the Family Recovery Unit that I might be interested in. Hmmm…I call them back and now have an interview set up for tomorrow afternoon. How exciting. I want a part-time position that includes days/evenings but no overnights. The job seems like I would be learning a lot and be helping people…kinda why I got into nursing.

Maybe if I cross my fingers and have some luck I just might be employed there very soon. I’ll have to consult my magic 8-ball. It never lies!

A girls night out...

So Saturday night a few of us girls went out to some of the local bars. We all recently have become single for one reason or another and decided to have some fun. So we were out on the prowl….okay…not really. We wanted nothing more than to go enjoy a few beers and gossip.

Now, it all started off good. We were all half drunk by the time we made it to our first destination. When we got to the bar there were no empty tables so the three of us got invited to sit with three already drunk older men. No big deal they are playing pool anyway. By the time we got done sitting down and drinking half of our beers we had became engrossed in conversation with these men that were oh so kindly sharing their table with us. You learn a lot from someone after they have been drinking--sometimes too much. After we finished our pitcher of beer and the rounds of shots these giving ‘gents had purchased us we made our way to a block that had bars lining either side of the street.

First thing we did was entered the back door and walked right on through—nothing must of caught our eye—even though I am not sure what exactly we were looking for. On to the next bar we trotted, undoubtedly we were highly intoxicated. We peeked in to the window and noticed only a few people enjoy their brews in there. It must have not been exciting enough for us because we kept on skipping down the sidewalk only to hear a man yell at us from the bar “You can come in. There is sausage in here!” to which I sharply replied “We are vegetarians!” We giggled and definitely portrayed ourselves as the part.

Finally we reach a bar that had good music, people, and cold beer. I go up to order us a pitcher of beer when a curly haired man asked me what I was drinking and very nicely purchased my pitcher of beer. After I accepted the pitcher of course he followed me over to the table that we were sitting at…no big deal, right? Just a friendly conversation which he started off as “Hey is my shoes tied? That troll keeps coming and untying them”. I was speechless. Thinking quickly as any intoxicated person does I mouth to my friend “Help me”. She obviously was thinking much quicker than myself and says “Umm…she is with me and I don’t share. Let’s dance.” So here we are two highly intoxicated single women dancing for a group of drunken men. Now when I say dancing, I mean dirty dancing, the kind that you can only watch on late night TV if you get my heavy drift. This is the kind where every muscle is so sore the next day that you looked like you tried to ride a bull for 6 hours straight. Wow…I bet we showed them.

It was closing time and of course none of us was done but we made it safely to Taco Johns drive thru which we spent 10 minutes arguing that we didn’t receive our food that was apparently sitting on our laps. How embarrassing. We get to my friends house, which she has no idea where her keys or cell phone is. We end up breaking in through a window to eat our now cold Taco John’s.

I get to bed late or early, depending on the view point, around 4 in the morning. I wake up 3 hours later and I really honestly don’t know how this is possible but I felt as if I were more intoxicated than before I went to bed. I showered in the dark because the light just was killing my head. At 9 in the morning my friend managed to scrounge up a set of spare car keys and off we went to try and find her lost belongings. Which, surprisingly, we did find her keys and her cell phone....in different locations.

We than decided to make an attempt to run to the grocery store, which was not a great idea being they are so bright and noisy inside. Ugh! That is when I noticed that I had only spent 5 dollars for my drinking fest the night before and I am pretty sure I spent that at Taco Johns.

So thank you everyone who supported my alcohol intake that night. I do not know who you are or even why you purchased my drinks. I do, however, appreciate a nice cold beer now and again and if I do recognize you the next time I am out….the next round is on me.

All in all, I didn’t think it was a bad night out. We only had a few injuries—a bruised knee and a stubbed toe. Not too shabby.

What is wrong with second place?

We have all been there. Everyone has ran that race or baked that pie that just wasn’t quite good enough to get that blue ribbon. What is so great about coming in first that we all thrive for? Maybe it is that accomplishment feeling or the boost to our ego that we get by becoming number one. Heck, it might even be that shiny trophy that will collect dust over the years but be that constant reminder that we kicked someone’s butt.

I love to win. I won’t even let my kids beat me in connect four. So to them it is a HUGE deal if they happen to slide one past me, which it does happen on occasion. And let me tell you--they do NOT let me forget that out of the thousands of games of connect four I have won that they have beat me those few games. And I don’t blame them. They just experienced that winning feeling.

So what is so wrong with coming in second? That is still a pretty huge deal, right? I mean taking in granted that there is more than two involved in this so-called competition. Don’t get me wrong people do make a big deal if they grab that silver medal but it’s usually accompanied by a story about how if they wouldn’t have stumbled they would have grabbed the gold.

Now I am only talking about this because in my spare time I do have an artistic side to me that very few are aware of. I love photography. I love painting. Recently I have been asked to submit a piece of my ‘art’ into a contest.

I don’t call myself a sore loser but one that loses poorly. I don’t pout, or cry, or throw myself on the floor kicking and screaming. I simply just hate that feeling of not being good enough. I know this makes me sound like I wouldn’t do something that I am not good at, BUT believe me I suck at a lot of things that I do repeatedly for fun.

As of now I am not sure that I will be entering this so-called ‘art’ contest. Hmmm…I’d love to win...but would I be happy with that second or third place prize…

Is this how we play this game of life?

When I was a ‘lil girl I used to dream of growing up being a doctor, a lawyer, or whatever superhero I liked at the time. I would think most kids do this—if not it just confirms that I am unusual. I used to daydream that I would get married—boy was I right, I did that twice! I’d daydream thinking I wanted 5 or 6 kids—close I have 3. Along with the above I thought I would do so in that perfect house with the wrap around deck with a porch swing, the white-picket fence, and the freshly squeezed lemonade sitting in the fridge.

Now, in reality, I have a good life. My house may not have the wrap around porch or the picket fence and I traded in the freshly squeezed lemonade for some Budweiser—partly because I like to have a cold one and partly because I am too lazy to squeeze the lemons, but I do have a good life.

Nothing changed. I still daydream. Now it’s about paying off bills, providing my kids with what they need, making it through another year of school, and finding someone that can stand me enough to form a stable relationship.

Which brings me to-- what is a relationship?

To me I always thought a relationship had to be with someone that becomes your best friend. You could talk about anything with them and they didn’t judge you. They let you be yourself and accept you with your faults—and vice versa. You have to be forgiving, open, and honest. I didn’t think relationships were based on that butterfly feeling you get when you first kiss someone, but more on how you want to make sure that person knows just how amazing they are.

In the process of being the patient and understanding person that I do honestly believe that I have become—I say become because I was not always that way—I think I get taken advantage of more often than not in life. I rarely complain, because does it really matter who holds the remote, or if we have pizza for supper, or even if you ran 15 minutes late? I rarely yell, because does it really make the other person want to listen to your thoughts or feelings? And I would do anything for anyone—even an ex-husband who showed infidelity at it’s best. I used to think these were my strong traits but the more that I analyze life I am thinking they are my downfall.

One of my best friends is the furthest thing from being a pushover—unlike me. She doesn’t take crap from her friends; she speaks her mind bluntly and tells exactly how she feels regardless of how brutal. She doesn’t take tardiness and she gets what she wants—hands down. Maybe that is saying something to me. Maybe I need to stick out my chest and start demanding my needs. Is that how we play this game of life?

I’m beginning to see that everyone has their own dreams and more importantly their own definition to life. Does that mean I should change mine or wait for someone that sees life like I do…

I didn’t give up on my ‘lil girl dreams—they changed--just like everything changes in life.

Starting over...

I have recently decided that it was time to make my little attempt on keeping an online journal. After testing a few out....here I am....hopefully here to stay.