Brooke’s Musings

We are spoiled.  And by “we” I mean Americans.  I know that’s a gross over-generalization, and I know there are certainly exceptions to that statement.  With that said, I do think that as a culture, as a group of people, we are pretty damn spoiled in comparison to some other cultures.  There was a discussion about this at work just last night amongst myself and two other nurses I was working with.  One of them had spent a considerable amount of time in Bolivia and I’ve spent some time in Guatemala.  Granted, not a lot of time in Guatemala, but two trips each approximately two weeks in length.  Enough time to begin to get a feel for the culture.  We agreed that we both came back to the United States feeling very blessed and spoiled and no longer taking things for granted we had taken for granted before.  Things like clean drinking water, enough money to put a roof over your head or afford basic transportation, things like that. 

Two examples from my trips to Guatemala stand out in my mind to make my point.  During the first trip I was speaking through an interpreter to an older woman and she was telling me that she had pain in her neck often (most likely from carrying heavy baskets on her head frequently) and approximately two years earlier there had been an American medical team there in town and they had given her some small white pills that really helped the pain.  She was hoping this American medical team could give her some more.  I found out that those little white pills she’d been waiting approximately two years for were ibuprofen.  Yes, just ibuprofen.  She didn’t have any money or transportation to the pharmacy to buy them.  Even if she’d been able to get the pharmacy, she wouldn’t have had the money to buy them.  Ibuprofen.  Something most of us give no thought to picking up on a quick trip to the store while you’re out running errands.  But to this woman, it was a big deal to get these pills.

On my second trip there was another example of  things we take for granted.  A boy and his grandparents traveled for two full days to get 100 miles from their home to where we were setting up a clinic and doing some surgeries because the boy needed an eye surgery.  They spent most of the two days walking.  That was the only way they could get to us.   A 100 mile trip is not a big deal to most of us.  A two hour trip, roughly.  But to this family it was a real ordeal. 

We really are a pretty spoiled culture.  As are most citizens of “industrialized” countries.  But we sometimes forget about millions of citizens of third world countries who fight for things we take for granted.  There are so many things we see as necessities that they see only as luxuries. 

There is a coastal town in Oregon where I lived as a child and again as a young adult.  This town hasn’t changed all that much over the years.  I am planning on moving back to Oregon in the near future and yesterday I spent the day having some minor car maintenance done to prepare my car for the drive.  So moving back “home” was very much on mind.  There is a rural two lane highway leading into this small coastal town I’ve driven on far too many times to count over the years.  There is a spot on this road where you go around a slight bend in the road and down a slight incline and suddenly this wondrous view of the ocean opens up to you and the smell of sea salt in the air can’t be ignored.  You can see the ocean about a mile ahead and it looks as though it just goes on forever.  I was on the couch reading and relaxing last night and closed my eyes and for just a moment I could see that scene so clearly I was there.  I could see the blue of the ocean almost melting into the blue of the sky so you can hardly tell where one ends and the other begins.  I could see the green, lush trees to the side of the road.  I could smell the tangy salt air that is just so clean and refreshing that once you’ve smelled it, the memory of that smell stays with you always.  I couldn’t help but break out in a smile. 

I had to work last night… New Year’s Eve night.  But it was actually fun!  I didn’t mind being there at all.  There were three staff members on the floor I was working on.  Myself and two other women I always enjoy working with.  Just before midnight we all three put on gaudy fun gold colored tiaras to wear in our hair and broke out the sparkling grape juice.  We included a patient who was awake and another patient’s family member in the celebration and rang in the New Year in a most festive and fun manner.  The patient who was awake and we were involving in the celebration asked each of us to come clink her plastic champagne glass… she wanted a real toast to the New Year.  This woman later said to me “You look so cute with the tiara!  But I bet you feel silly, huh?”  All I could do, of course, was smile and reply “A little bit, yes.”  But looking silly was worth the chuckles it got from other patients and even other staff when I wore it to the cafeteria for lunch later.  Our patients got wonderful care last night… we were still taking our jobs very seriously.  But we managed to make it a lot of fun, too. 

Tonight I was talking to a close friend of mine about a decision I made to move back to Oregon soon.  Well, as soon as I can.  That will probably be this spring or summer.  But anyway, I was telling her all about Saturday Market and how fun it is and the wonderful hiking trails near my old apartment I lived in before I moved to Ohio.  And how they’re building a brand new hospital building in town that will be opening in August.  She laughed and said it sounded like I was very excited about this decision.  I realized I am.  Then I described to her how I used to spend my “perfect” days off work when I lived in Oregon a few years ago before I ended up in Ohio…

I would sleep late, have a good breakfast and get in the car.  I would sing along loudly and off key to the radio as I drove to the coast.  Then I would go shopping in the funky fun little shops on the bayfront of maybe check out the craft and antique store.  Then I would go for a very long walk on the beautiful stretch of beach near where I grew up.  (It’s also near the sand dune that my sister tried to convince me the Easter Bunny lived at the top of, but that’s another story.)  I would just soak up the carefree feeling of the sand between my toes.  Then I would stop by my very favorite hole in the wall seafood place right on the beach for the most wonderful shrimp cocktail and clam chowder for dinner.  And then I would drive home singing loudly and off key along with the radio again, smiling and happy and tired from the fresh salt water air.  I’m looking forward to spending a perfect day like that again. 

Yesterday was a very productive day for me.  Let me clarify that.  It was a productive day off work.  Now that may not sound like much of a proclamation to most of you who have productive days every day.  But let me explain… I live by myself and have no children.  I may have a lot of responsibility while I’m at work and am productive every day at work, but when I get home there is just myself and the cats to be responsible for.  There just aren’t a lot of things I have to get done, so if I don’t want to be very productive on a certain day, I really don’t have to. 

Yesterday I cleaned house, lugged a few bags of donations to the Salvation Army, made a fleece blanket for my youngest niece, went to the grocery store, and made a batch of fudge.  Then I even cleaned the kitchen up after dinner and the fudge making.  I’m not sure where the energy came from or what the burst of productivity was all about, but I enjoyed it.

Now a side note about the cats.  Some of you may know how skittish and scared my little girl cat, Tinkerbell, was when I adopted her about four months ago.  She wouldn’t come out from under my bed for two weeks and wouldn’t really let me pet her for a month.  Well, she’s definitely decided she trusts me.  She lets me pet her any time I walk up to her and even comes to sit next to me and meow to ask to be petted sometimes.  And a few nights ago while she was laying next to me she rolled onto her back with her belly bared to me and let me pet her belly for a few minutes.  I’d say that’s a sure sign she is coming to trust me!

Ok, so this post is going to be a little different coming from me.  Those of you who read my blog with any regularity know I don’t usually comment on political issues.  But something has come to my attention recently I wanted to take the time to comment on.

I’m sure most of you reading this, if not all, have received a mass e mail about the campaign to send Christmas cards addressed to “Any Wounded Soldier” to Walter Reed Army Medical Center, right?   And then you probably also received another one with a link to the page on www.snopes.com (a site that dispels urban legends) explaining why this mail can not be delivered.  Basically, it’s a National safety issue.  There is always the chance that a terrorist could put anthrax or some other biological agent in a Christmas card.  Just because it’s a Christmas card does not automatically mean it is safe and innocent.  There is also the issue of hate mail being sent to wounded soldiers in the guise of a Christmas card.  I can’t begin to imagine the morale crusher that would be.  Here’s this man (or woman) who was wounded fighting for their country and they are spending Christmas in a hospital instead of with family and then they receive hate mail.  

There are those people who might say it’s an overreaction to stop this mail from being delivered.  Some might say we could get around the problem of biological agents and hate mail by screening every piece of mail before it’s delivered.  Now, I support our troops 110%.  I have family members who are former members of the military.  A few have fought in Vietnam and the Persian Gulf war.  While I love the idea of Christmas cards being sent to these soldiers to support them, it is just not safe.  Terrorist could very easily tamper with innocent looking Christmas cards for nefarious purposes.  If the people in our country charged with keeping our military men and women safe have thought of this, you can be damn sure terrorists have, too.  And as for screening every bit of mail, well, that sounds like a good theory.  And if it were at all practical I’d be behind the idea totally.  But it simply is not practical.  You would be putting the people doing the screening in danger of being exposed to whatever biological agents may be in the mail.  And you would also need to determine just where the manpower to spend the time screening each and every piece of mail was going to come from. 

I don’t think it’s an overreaction at all keep this mail addressed to “Any Wounded Soldier” from being delivered.  I think it’s a matter of it being better to be safe than sorry.  That’s my two cents.  Feel free to let me know your thoughts.

Some things are just too unbelievable to have been fabricated.  I came across this news story recently and was flabbergasted. 

http://today.msnbc.msn.com/id/21882976/

In a nutshell, a 13 year old girl “met” a boy online who supposedly lived nearby and they began to correspond and struck up a cyber-relationship.  According to her parents, her online activities were well monitored by them and they took precautions to protect their daughter from the dangers of meeting people online.  After a period of time, the young man ended the cyber-relationship with the girl and apparently made some very nasty comments about her to others.  This hurt her deeply and she committed suicide.  This part of the story is very tragic and my heart truly goes out to her parents.  But what makes the story so unbelievable and wild is that the boy was never real… he was fictitious.  He was made up by the mother of a former friend of the girl who died.  The mother said that she was only trying to find out what this young lady was saying online about her own daughter.  My reaction to reading that was “What?!?!” 

This mother, an adult, should have known better than to play those kinds of games with a 13 year old child!  She should have known better than to play with this girls emotions this way.  SHE is the adult… SHE had the responsibility to act like one and she failed miserably at that.  And she says she doesn’t feel guilty.  In the article the girl’s father is quoted as saying “They sent us a letter in the mail, basically saying that they might feel a little bit of responsibility, but they don’t feel no guilt or remorse or anything for what they did.”  I find that absolutely unfathomable. 

The girl’s parents are discussing with local authorities just what laws the woman broke and just what she can be charged with.  It’s been difficult to sort out since unfortunately stupidity and irresponsibility aren’t illegal. 

With Thanksgiving being tomorrow, I thought I would list one thing I’m thankful for for each year I’ve been alive… That means 39 things… so here goes.  (These are in no particular order)

I am thankful for…

1.  My wonderful, loving, and wee bit strange family
2.  My wonderful, loving, and wee bit strange friends
3.  My phone (It keeps me connected to those family and friends)
4.  E mail  (It also keeps me connected to those family and friends)
5.  My job/career
6.  My health
7.  The role of God in my life
8.  My pets
9.  My ability to see that things may not be what I’d like them to be, but they *will* improve
10.  The kindness of strangers
11.  The fact I can keep a roof over my head and food in my refrigerator when some people can’t
12.  The fact I have decent health insurance when some people don’t
13.  The fact I can cook well
14.  The fact I have great supervisors at work
15.  The fact I have skills I can use to help others both at work and on medical missions
16.  My intelligence
17.  Sunshine
18.  Rain… we need it for rainbows
19.  The zoo… I love to watch the animals
20.  Flowers
21.  My great apartment that I really like
22.  The fact I got my car back more quickly than I first expected to when it broke down
23.  Pictures of my friends and family to remind me of good times
24.  My amazing, strong, funny mother
25.  My amazing, strong, funny sister
26.  My amazing, strong, funny aunts
27.  My sense of humor
28.  My strong work ethic I learned as a child
29.  The fact my parents taught me strong values and a good sense of right and wrong
30.  The fact I’ve never done anything I’m *truly* ashamed of
31.  My love of music
32.  My love of reading
33.  My photography skills, as weak as they may be
34.  The wonderful pure glycerin soaps I discovered a few months ago
35.  Chocolate
36.  The great staff I work with at work
37.  My amazing, funny, wonderful nieces and nephews
38.  The beach… it’s calming and soothing to me
39.  My patients at work over the years who have taught me what really matters, and what doesn’t

A Happy Thanksgiving to all of you and yours!

Now, it seems common sense that no person is a punching bag… ever.  Right?  Well, we all know it does happen.  What the general public may not know is just how often nurses are manhandled.  And what little action is taken about.

In the past 10 years  I have been kicked in the chin, bitten, punched, had my breasts grabbed, and had things thrown at me … all by patients.  And each time it’s been a case of “Well, they’re confused, they don’t know what they’re doing.”  So I’m expected to just take it.  I’ve spoken with many other nurses and they’ve concurred that is always the attitude when they’re assaulted.  (Yes, this kind of thing IS assault.)  Not once have I spoken to a nurse who pressed charges against a patient for this or really in any way held them responsible for their actions.  Virtually every nurse I’ve spoken to on this subject has said they would receive virtually no support from their hospital’s administration were they to do that. 

Now, I’m not saying I think the 85 year old little woman who bit the hell out of my arm or the 75 year old man who kicked me in the chin should be arrested on assault charges and go to court and/or jail.  I’m not saying that at all.  But neither do I think I should be expected to sit back and just accept such behavior without any recourse.  I don’t think any person should be expected to, yet nurses ARE.  I don’t really know what the answer is to hold these people responsible for their actions.  Or even just how much they should be held responsible when they truly are confused.  I don’t believe confusion should excuse any violent behavior, but I do understand they’re not necessarily even aware of what they’re doing at the time.  Neither is the person coming in for detox and coming off of coke or alcohol or meth.  It’s a tough situation and I understand each side of it. 

The closest I’ve ever come to charging someone at work with assault wasn’t a patient, but a physician.  I had been going to answer a question for him and as I walked off to find the answer for some unknown reason he chose to grab my arm to stop me… hard enough that it left a bruise.  I looked at his hand and then at his face and I have no idea what kind of expression I had on my face but he dropped his hand from my arm very, very quickly.  (This particular physician had a reputation for being verbally abusive to the nursing staff, but had never done anything physical like that to me before.)  I spoke to my nurse manager at length about it later that morning and she said she would support me should I choose to charge him with assault and agreed I would have every right to.  I had the bruise on my arm and about 3 witnesses to this scene.  Ultimately I chose not to, because I had to maintain a civil work relationship with him and he had realized he’d crossed a line.  Maybe I wimped out and maybe I made the right decision… I ended up moving away a few months later and it didn’t matter any more. 

So, I recently made the conscious decision to revamp my spending habits and basically make a new philosophy when it comes to spending money.  If I don’t absolutely need it, I don’t buy it.  And I gave some thought to other ways to cut costs.   One of those ways to check out two different “bargain” grocery stores near my house that advertise their very low prices.  Well,  that ended up really not saving me any money in the long run at all. 

The first store I went to charged you a quarter just to unlock a grocery cart to use while shopping.  Then they had a really poor selection of products.  And then they charged you 5 cents a bag to put your groceries in. 

The second store did let you use a cart for free and had a slightly better selection, but still pretty poor.  By the time I looked over each store and still couldn’t find a few items on my list and had to drive to a “regular” grocery store I realized that by the time I spent the time and gas searching for all the items on my shopping list, I hadn’t really saved any money at all.  I suppose it was worth a try.