Wednesday, December 30, 2009

I've Got An Embarrassing Confession

I've got a confession to make, and its rather embarrassing. My 21 month old still gets a bottle at bedtime. I put him in his crib at exactly 1900 with his bottle of milk and he falls asleep quickly and quietly with the bottle still in his mouth. Occasionally I go into the room and remove the bottle from his mouth and he promptly wakes up crying, looking for his bottle.

Putting him to bed with a bottle isn't the worst of it; he also wakes up at night and requires another bottle to fall back asleep.On one particular occasion when I entered his room at night, he was sitting up in his crib, sweetly holding his bottle out to me to refill.

Kev is 21 months old, gets a bottle for falling asleep and gets 1-2 more bottles during the night. I'm aware of the increased risk of cavities and negative effects on his oral hygiene. It was my expectation that he would spontaneously begin sleeping through the night at some point and give up the bottle on his own, just like he gave up his soother. However, he is relying on it as some children rely on a soother to comfort them throughout the night.

I've recently been telling him that his bottles will be going "bye-bye" very very soon. This upcoming night, the night of December 30, seems as good a night as any. Jen has already resolved to have nothing to do with it and will be spending the night elsewhere.

Switching water for milk is not an option, as he simply throws this out of his crib onto the floor, usually narrowly missing my head.

Is it right for me to simply make him go "cold turkey" and have it over with in a few nights? Should I wean him off of it slowly and draw out the process over a week? This is foreign territory for me.


Advice of any sort would be wonderful and greatly appreciated.

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Night Shift, Moving, French Immersion, etc.

Again, the night shift. Its currently 0145; most people are at home snug in their beds and asleep. Not me. I only wish I was sleeping cuz I took a benadryl two hours ago for an allergic reaction to something. Not sure what.

My lovely and wonderful cousin, Rachel, who works in Emerg, was up to see me before midnight. I'm so tickled to have a relative working in the same hospital.

On my previous night shift (24 Dec 2009) I had four patients and my night was slow, slow, slow. Tonight I have seven patients, and I will quite likely have an eighth shortly as we are expecting an admission shortly. That's cause to fill out a work overload form, but we rarely fill those out because its a rather large stack of paperwork and very time consuming. And, yes, there is a certain irony there.

Just yesterday at a family gathering I was explaining what kind of work I did and that our patients were anywhere from 17 - 104 years old, with 104 being the oldest patient I've ever cared for. Of course, tonight one of my patients is 105. I told her she didn't look a day over 95.

On my way to work tonight I spoke on the phone nearly the entire drive here. My VBF (very best friend) called as I was leaving the driveway, then I called Mom, and then Luanna. It was very nice when I had headphones to talk on the phone because then I didn't have to hold the phone up in an awkward postion which is kind of distracting while driving. But driving is one of the few times during the day that I sit still so to me it makes sense to talk while driving. Especially when the streets are empty.


It seems as if I've been preparing to move forever now, and its only been since November that I packed up my first box and began ridding myself of excess belongings. Today I packed and labelled and numbered another five boxes; that makes nine boxes that are officially ready for moving.

There is still no official word on where we will be moving to. The house west of Blumenort is still a 'maybe,' and now there is a house in Steinbach that is also a possibility. The house in Steinbach would put me within a mile of Virg's house which would be absolutely fabulous!!! We could walk together whenever I wasn't working! I could walk to work if I found childcare in town. Even working in Ste. Anne would work well, then I could find a sitter in Greenland. Picking up Mom for coffee would be a breeze. A 10-15 minute drive to get her and the same to drive her home.

So, my plan is to rent a home for 2-4 years, repair my credit rating (its been horrible ever since school), save money for a downpayment and then purchase a home. At this point in time I'm thinking of buying in Ste. Anne or Labroquerie.

I'd like for Kev to attend a French Immersion school and I've been told that Steinbach does not offer French Immersion. There is another reason I would not like Kev in school in Steinbach or Blumenort. And that is the religious factor. When my children attended Blumenort School, there was too much emphasis on Christianity, in my opinion. And I'm not saying this to anger anyone or to start a debate with anyone, this is simply my opinion and my feelings on the matter.

Blumenort is a public school but it felt more like a private school twelve years ago. The Lords Prayer each and every morning along with daily bible readings were a bit much for me and my husband at the time. When I mentioned this to the principle he simply informed me that anyone was free to leave the classroom at those times and were in no way forced to stay if they chose not to. This was not a viable option, as leaving the classroom would have drawn attention to themselves.

We were a non-religious family at that time and I am raising Kev in that same environment. Therefore, Blumenort is not an option for Kev's education at this point. And, I think it is a wonderful option for children to be fluent in both English and French. Especially since knowing Low German does not qualify you as bilingual.

It is almost time for my break, so I bid you all good-night.

Saturday, December 26, 2009

Sadness

On August 11, 1993 the world lost a one-in-a-million kind of woman. Her name was Marjorie Ellen Penner and she was my sister.

We had so much in common yet so little in common. We shared our two parents and two brothers. We shared our love of children and our love of nursing, but even those commonalities weren't enough for us to maintain or even form a sisterly bond.

The differences seemed to override the commonalities. She lived a country life; I lived a city life. She followed the Holdeman faith and all that entailed, I followed no faith and made my own rules. She had seven children and would have had more, I was done after two. She married her childhood sweetheart who lived just a few miles away; I married a man I’d barely gotten to know. She was born in 1954, I was born in 1967. That we loved each other was not in doubt but I am certain it was I who made the roads of communication rough and virtually impassible.

She had a bout of breast cancer in 1987, the same year that I was pregnant with Chris. I was so traumatized by this and upset that I left a family get-together crying and went to hide in my bedroom. She followed me and gently talked to me.

The chemo treatments that followed were temporarily effective and she was cancer free until 1993. Early in the year she was diagnosed with gallstones and had surgery for same. The surgeon looked for evidence of cancer during the surgery and found none. Marj never fully recuperated from this procedure and she passed away a few months later.

My first knowledge of widespread mets was when our parents were over for lunch one day and mom told me while at the table. “She’s got cancer and its all over her body. She wanted to tell you herself but you won’t go visit her.” My eyes filled with tears and I ran from the table.

I went to visit her in the hospital that same afternoon. She lay in a hospital bed hooked up to an intravenous solution and cried with her mother-in-law and told me I’d have to find a new sister. “But I want you” I told her. She got up to walk to the bathroom and discussed whether or not the cancer had reached her bladder. Her husband seemed reluctant to leave her side while I was there.

My next recollection of her is lying in a bed in another room and she had been seeing pink elephants on the hospital curtains. Morphine didn’t seem to agree with her. They had just made the decision to not have any more chemo treatments as it was just prolonging her life and making her feel lousier in the meantime. Flash forward to another hospital room and Marj is having seizure after seizure; allegedly a result of blood clots entering the brain.

I don’t remember how I felt about her impending death at this point; it may have been sadness, or numbness. I do remember very clearly that I got very upset and indignant with a certain Holdeman minister who offended my dignity in some way while visiting my sister

When Marj was returned to Steinbach and occasionally to her home, the focus was on caring for her and making her remaining time on earth a life of quality and special moments. One such moment was a day when Marj was allowed to go home for a few hours and Kevin and I were at her place for lunch. She verbalized that this was a special meal to have her sister there.

Later that afternoon, I walked with her around the house with her and her daughters as she instructed her daughters on the care and tending of each particular plant near the house. Very clear evidence that she knew of her impending death and was preparing herself and her daughters for the same.

Two days before her death I spent the afternoon with her, she had a bed in the living room and a commode. I fed her lemon meringue pie and she attempted to drink iced tea. Her hands shook, she was unable to feed herself, but she ate the entire piece of pie. The doctor came to visit her that evening and she asked him if I was someone special to her.

Cancer was an evil mystery to me at that time, and I was relatively ignorant and inexperienced in its insidious ways of stealing a person’s identity and awareness. When I left that evening I had no clue that it would be the last time I would see her alive.

I chose “Sadness” as a title for this post because I am saddened by the realization that I lost a sister. A sister who I felt I hardly knew because I chose to not to spend more time with her in her last months on earth. My reasons for not spending quantity time with her are unknown to me. Perhaps I felt unwanted at her bedside as I had chosen a path in life that was not what she wanted for me.

While the reasons remain unknown to me now, even 16 years later, I have felt her presence with me many times since her death. She was with me when I first started my university education. She’s been with me many times on the way to HSC as a senior practicum student. Her ghost haunts the hallways when I work in Ste. Anne, the hospital where she worked many years ago. Most recently, she traveled home from work with me after hard day shift. I love my sister and I miss her.

Some may say “Oh, get over it, its been 17 years.” I have nothing to say to those people, they wouldn’t understand anyway.

Friday, December 25, 2009

GD2 X-mas Night 2009

Here it is, 0305 on X-mas morning 2009. I'm at work; its a slow night by GD2 standards.  Notice I did not say the forbidden "Q" word?

There are five nurses on tonight; we've all got four patients vs. the normal six that we usually have on nights. Its been an interesting night, to say the least. I've got room 19, which is immediately across from the nurses' desk  and the only room on D2 with four beds. We reserve this room for the patients who we believe may need closer monitoring.  Translation: the very sick, the very old, and the very confused admissions to D2 go into this room.

This room can be a bit of a gong show at times and it seems some of the nurses prefer to work with any other rooms but 19.  I love having 19; the time goes by quickly.  Tonight it is the very confused that are in this room, two with dementia, and the other two with other cognitive challenges.  There are actually times where I have to stifle giggles in this room.  (This is where I had included a detailed story about a specific patient but have taken it out as I believe it would have broken confidentiality.)

As the night progressed and I realized that there would be no admissions anytime soon, I took out my cell phone and began texting people. It was near midnight and only my dear cousin, Rachel, responded to my  text asking if anyone was still awake.

My paperwork complete, I headed out of 19 to the desk where the other nurses were sitting and also finished their paperwork. It is unusual for us to be done our work this early (around midnight) and not be busy. This type of scenario makes the night drag on forever. We usually struggle to get the bare minimum paperwork  done because we are so very busy and there is usually an admission or two or five at night. So, when we have a night like this, it is a welcome reprieve from the norm. Although, it is hard to believe we are all earning between $35-40 per hour for not working very hard. Have I mentioned lately that I love my job????

And, guess what, I really do love my job. People often mistakenly assume that I am being sarcastic when I say that. But I can honestly say that I enjoy my chosen career.

In the morning when we have completed giving verbal report to the day nurses, I will drive home and attempt to grab a few hours of sleep before my red-headed gremlin arrives home. My very best friend will be driving him home from the babysitter's home an hour away. When I work nights he usually stays at home with his birth mother, but she is currently enjoying the sun and sand in Cuba. My friend offered to drive him home to me on Xmas day to save me the tired drive and the weather seems to be cooperating thus far.

There is, however, a snow and wind warning in effect for tomorrow, which would make the hour long drive a bit of a hazard in a car. Luckily, if that happens, I have a friend or two with pickup trucks who may be persuaded to bring him home as I can't bear to be away from him for any longer than I have to.

Which brings me to another topic entirely, the intense love I feel toward a child that I knew all along I would love, but was never prepared for the intensity.

Thus ends my blog for tonight.