eat pray love

no, i'm not doing that right now. it is the name of a book by Elizabeth Gilbert.

go forth now and read it!! it is just a tremendously funny, interesting and life changing book. Especially if you are a woman in your 30's used to creating your own self drama, then looking for ways to fix it .....while in the middle of eating lovely foods, praying for help and giving some lovin' here an there. i wouldn't know where to look for such a person! maybe the weirdo in the mirror at times.

the author is going to be on Oprah today, i asked the BF to tivo it for me....poor guy will have oprah amongst his listings of MLB playoffs, E Talk Soup, and other manly shows.

be sure to reveal in her travel memoirs, i can visualize myself in Itatly in Naples and eating the delicious pizza she devoured. i loves my food too.

but the best i could do was this beauty of a breafast -the picture at the top is my food in chicago with the BF and mine is the chocolate and strawberry stuffed frech toast. i still think about it everyday.

my dog...working hard

chi chi

just got back from a lovely weekend in beautiful chicago! love that place. it feels so homey.
i say b/c i am from the mid-west (ohio) and it feels like my people.

and btw - while i am on the subject...i ask for a vote: who believes ohio is a part of the midwest and who believes ohio is still a part of the east coast? let me know what you think!

anywho weekend away with the BF and we did such things as - watch a white sox game, toured the navy pier, went to the top of sears tower and snap some photos from the top, ate churos and corndogs at the ballgame (sounds bad when i write it out), watched some sunday fball at a local pub with the locals. only one chanel had the ravens game one and my sisters were mighty pleased that the ravens went down like they did. brother-in-law not so much.
also hung out at a bakery one night to eat delicious pasteries and use the free WIFI to look up our fantasy leagues.

we did such non-scheduled things such as - went to some health fair that was at the navy pier to get free snacks ala- sams club style. we collected: 2 bottles of oraganic dressing, 2 weight watchers muffins, 4 weight watcher carmel cakes, 1 chocolate with carmel whittmans treat, 1 serving of chocolate soy milk, a green bag, kashi cereal and some tshirts for giving blood to the red cross!

well i really didn't want to, b/c like a true nurse...i don't mind sticking anyone but hate the needle in my arm. but alas, my do-gooder nice man was doing it and i couldn't whimp out now (stupid irish pride). so we gave blood.

bf red cross stats: sailed through the interview process, iron level at 17, and on/off of the needle ~13minutes. ate nutter butter, chips ahoy and water afterwards.

my red cross stats: sailed through the interview process, forgot my license at the hotel so had to give them my credit card and copy of my insurance card and that got me to getting my finger pricked....which revealed my iron was at 12.4 normal is 12 and you need a 12.5 to give blood b/c they will be taking a pint from you. so she shoved my blood in the machine again, this time 12.5.
on to the needle - i put on a brave face but said a slew of silent cuss words in my head when that gigantic 18 bore needle entered into my vein.
19 minutes later - they have to weigh my bag of blood b/c they can't keep me on the needle anylonger, my bag passes by a few ounces! the needle comes out and i can't feel my fingers from having the blood pressure cuff on my arm as a self-made tourniquet. ouch. it hurt like a mother.
i ate - nutter butters, 2 cups of orange juice and something else but i can't remember. i must of looked bad b/c everyone asked if i was ok. before i knew it someone taped a huge icebag to my arm and told me not to rub it.

i want to proudly state that i did not tell them once i was a nurse during that whole process. 1. b/c i hate it when it is done to me (esp. in the middle of sticking someone with a needle). and 2. b/c i didnt want her to get nervous and miss and really screw up my arm.

once we figured out the CTA public transport, i would say we saved around $50 in taxi fees.

great weekend. and now that i am back home i am counting down the days to the marathon. t-minus 11 more to go. boo. i don't have an ounce of enthusiasm either, more looking forward to my carbo loading days.

why?

when i look for a halloween costume that 95% of them are for "sexy" witch or "sexy" nurse (grrrr), or "sexy" betty rubble?? is that truly necessary? do we women really need to be mostly naked for this holiday?? it's retarded and i am rebelling. i may try and put my punky brewster get-up together this year!!!

thank you

I ran a half marathon this past weekend and I did a lot better than I had hoped. I came in 10 minutes faster than last year and last year I really trained well. this year has not been so good.

I don't get nervous before a race. the girls I run with do. they are up in the middle of the night tossing and turning. they are buttoning their race numbers on their shirts the night before the race and they have to pee at least 4 or 5 times in the morning of the race that they attribute to "nervous bladder".

I never understood that. I put my number on the same day of the race, I usually go before I leave the hotel and won't need to go again until after the race.

one of my friends said she used to be the same way before the races and I was the "odd" one. "odd" in a good way. she said "maybe it was that supreme confidence that your parents taught you and it really came to life in your sports". I thought about that statement a lot. and she is right.

my parents came to all and I mean all of my sporting events. cross-country, volleyball, basketball, softball - you name the season, name the sport and they were there on the sideline cheering. and during off times my dad would work with us, teaching us fundamentals in a fun way. I loved sports. loved the excitement, loved the crowds. I heard many - a - time "you can do it". and guess what. I believed that. I believed " I could do it" and that became my mantra from age 9ish to 18. can you imagine being given that gift?

can you imagine believing you can accomplish anything in one area of your life simply b/c you believe in yourself? you can trust yourself b/c someone else did before.

This is a Thank You to my 'rents. They taught me to say "yes I can and who are you to say I can't?"

Last Sunday, I said "you can do this kt". "do your best, you have done these before and it will be a great race". bad training be damned, I came in under my projected time. I think some things are mind over matter...my parents taught me this first hand.

thanks mom and dad!!

so ready for fall

tired of coming into work with wild hair that needs a couple of squirts of soul glo. i mean i leave the house freshly coifed with lovely curled hair... 5 minute walk from the parking garage to my building and i have white girl fro.

marathon training has totally sucked this year. the heat is AWFUL. it is hard to get through a run even at 7am b/c the humidity has already kicked in. and sweating isn't one of my issues ( i have some, but this isn't a concerning one), but even in the heat with miles upon miles of running ... beads of sweat run right into my eyes! oooohhh the pain! it feels like someone is sucker-punching me in the face everytime i run over 10 miles.

football has started. my own league and of course the professionals. it is hot as BALLS outside! not suitable at all for the fall league. everyone is walking around with goofy looks, red faces, weary legs and a need for giant glasses of water. what happened to the healthy craving for wings after a game played?

70s weather please please come to thou, i can't take summers brutal ambush anymore. i am tired of feeling like i have been slapped in the face with a wet noodle everytime i step out into the "fresh" air.

it is autumns time by god! so let her come in and give us her pretty colors, her pumpkins, changing of the leaves and hot cider. rocktober comes but once a year and i want to celebrate as i should..in long sleeves, a pair of jeans, maybe a feather boa and a bottle of Sam Adams Pumpkin flavored beer in my hand. ( if you have not had this lovely lager, you must try some stat as soon as a fall breeze first hits your face ).

lets all gather at 10pm tonight in our respected homes and do a native american october dance to make it happen faster...this should be more productive than waiting for a beaver to get out of its hole and look for a shadow.

my job, my pleasure

~this is an old one from my last blog...only one that i could resurrect...just wanted to post again to make sure i save it, hope you enjoy~


he was back again. 3rd hospitalization in 2 months. lung cancer was taking over his entire body. a voluntary action such as breathing is one i take for granted, it happens without much thought on my end. he was engrossed in his chest movement. every ounce of his worn out body was used to expand his diseased lung muscles. my job to make sure he isn't suffocating, i place oxygen at a higher rate.

the mask is the size of a child's baseball cap. it was smothering his nose and mouth, there to aid in his debilitation...yet it seemed like a foriegn enemy. his fatigued arms would lift the enormous accessory from his face just enough to get a sip of water. such an action would take me a nanosecond, his over 5 minutes. arms shaking, emaciated muscles attempting to hold a papercup that a toddler could easily handle. his 40 year old hands barely could get through the task. my job to help lift that cup to his mouth for him.

i feel lousy for him. just the other week we were talking about his boat, how he couldn't wait to get into remission to ride on it once more. i knew. i knew this would not happen for him. i hate that i knew this, watching a body lose its strength and near its end is something i could anticipate happening. it was to him. my job not to show him what i know, my job now is to make him comfortable, have him know i am there for him.

his mother is not where i am. she sees the same bodily movements, but in her mind he is still her young son. he is her baby. she sees what is able to make her breath and live her life....if that included some piece of denial, then that is her choice. i am there to help him feel pain-free and to get her coffee when she may need it.

doctors come by. new orders to start a morphine drip. it will help his air hunger, make him comfortable, peaceful in whatever way it can. this could be his last day, my job to make sure i start that drip as quickly as possible.

what will be will be, and the mother is now "getting that". she is unable to handle the moment. her son was gradually progressing and leaving his body. the breathing became shallow and slow. i noticed he no longer looked at me while i performed duties for him. i noticed he was "somewhere else" but not here. still in body, but not able to communicate. my job to make sure he stays this peaceful.

mother leaves the room and crumbles. crumbles in a way that i am not prepared for. crying, shouting, shaking and cursing. she ran from the room, whatever had been bottled up the last 2 months came spewing out in volcanic waves in one minute. her body was convulsing with category five emotions. i couldn't console her, the doctor couldn't console her, nurse manager couldn't console her. my job to brainstorm and find a way to help her.

patients, familys, coworkers all hover in the hallway...watching the scene from a bad movie. what to do? she needed more than emotional support. she needed help medically to deal with all she was feeling right now. in the moment i was thinking this....she yelled for help. "oh god i can't handle this, help me". i remember by chance her doctor's information was in her son's room. they had the same primary care physcian. my job to let him know i need his help.

me: hi, this is kt. i am a nurse and i am here with mrs. v - she is really needing some xanax, ativan..something. her son is here in my hospital, she is have great difficulty. (mrs. v is whaling in the backround) sweet doctor: is that mrs. v in the backround? oh my, no problem. give me your hospital's outpatient pharmacy and i will call down a dose of anxiety medicine now.

nurse manager goes to fetch the medicine. mother takes it, removes herself from her son's room for 45minutes. anxiety medicine kicks in. waterfall of tears still streaming down her face, but now she is able to see. she sees what i have been looking at. her son, his body, the last hours of a human life. the breathing as it slows. she is able to sit by him in the last moments. my job to shut the door, give them privacy.

she has tissues, water and additional family members for support. i sign out to the nightshift RN and she is able to take over gracefully. we finish report and give each other the look of a seasoned oncology nurse. it is her job now, but i know she feels as i do. "all in a day's work" just doesn't seem to cut it, more along the lines of: my job, my pleasure