Fanny

Some think of "Fanny" as a nicer word for buttocks. i.e. "Josh, when you're in the car, you need to sit on your fanny and stay buckled in." (Actual sentence said by actual family member) I, until today, have thought of Fanny as Barbra Streisand's character "Fanny Brice" in the beloved musical "Funny Girl." I love that movie. But now, Fanny has new meaning. Fanny is a sweet little old woman of 72 pounds. And she makes my day every day when I go in her room and she sits up and kisses me on the cheek. She's always happy to see me. And I love that. And for the record it's not those kisses that you really don't want. She's a clean lady. And she smells like flowers. All that said, Fanny, I think you're so great. And as I've said before, if there was a way for me to share my weight with you, I totally would. Remember to use your walker. Thank you, Fanny. Thank you.

I'm workin' heeeah!

To all of you family members of the present and future:

On behalf of the entire health care field, I would like to invite you to contemplate the situation your mother/father may be living in now. I know that you have spent the last 60 years or so with your mother/father. He/she raised you, helped you with homework, made your dinners, made your dress for your high school prom, maybe even walked you down the aisle. No doubt he/she has been your hero over the years, and you want the best for your beloved parent. Believe me, we as health care workers want the same. Let's discuss this idea of "the best."

When Mother turns 93, and sadly, on her 93rd birthday, she has bronchitis and may sound as though a fluid-filled lung may fly out of her throat at any time; her birthday party may not be her first priority. Though I'm sure she kicked her heels up in her day, right now it would be best for her to stay in her recliner and sleep rather than raise a glass to "For She's a Jolly Good Fellow." It's not a personal insult. You are a fine daughter/son. And yes, I'm sure there were far too many dishes to wash and cakes to bake for her to even think about a nap. But trust me, she's tired. And she's 93. It's fine.

Another concern is to the family members considering putting Father on hospice. Hospice is for those who are declining due to serious illness. Serious illness is not, however, forgetting where he put his glasses when he went to bed. His memory may slip now that he's in his 80's. I'm 25 and I forget to turn the stove off sometimes. I'm not on Hospice. It's fine.

My final, yet most crucial concern is that of patience. Yes, breakfast starts in ten minutes. Yes, Mother's aide has not been in to see her. And yes, Mother needs her blood sugar taken before she eats. I know that you see all these things because you have been staying with mother for one month now. But what you do not see is that Mother's aid has been cleaning the remnants of a colostomy bag off the bathroom wall for the last 25 minutes, people in the dining room have been yelling randomly for the last hour that it "cold as hell in here" as I sweat bullets because a woman on Alfredo's hall doesn't want a man to help her so I have to run up and down the stairs every 3 minutes because she forgot her sweater, can't get the tangle out of her hair, her brief is on too tight, and then she forgot to give me a candy bar (but the small size because I "look like I'm watching my weight"); and now I have found the strips for your mother's glucometer after asking 4 times for them-and the glucometer has a dead battery. Yes, Mother needs help. But so do 47 other people in this building- and that is NOT INCLUDING ME. So next time you think to complain to either aide or administrator, remember that these people, your friends in the health care field, usually don't get breaks. We work thru the night, and wake up very early to wipe Mother's butt and make her bed. So though we may look very nice in our coordinating scrubs and our stethoscopes around our necks- remember that today at sometime, for someone somewhere, the shit may literally be on the fan.

Yours Sincerely,
Sarah, CNA

Alfredo is Saucy

So I trained a man from Argentina today. His name is Alfredo, and BOY IS HE HOT! For kicks and giggles, fast forward thru a first date, functional relationship, falling in love, and beautiful wedding- we would have really cute kids. We all know how I feel about foreigners and sorts of dark-skinned men.

All this talk about alfredo is making me hungry. Time to go grocery shopping.

Bored stiff.

What was I doing 10 years ago?
1. High school theatre
2. Playing the piano for 3 choirs
3. I was in love with Anthony Schneider.
4.
5.
What are 5 things on my to do list
1. Go to the post office
2. Clean my room
3. Go to the gym more than once a week
4. Hang up my curtains
5. Pay my bills

What are my favorite snacks?
1. fresh pineapple
2. girl scout cookies
3. no-bake cookies
4. canteloupe
5. grapes and cheese


What would I do if I was a millionaire
1. pay off my school loans
2. pay of mom's house
3. take the fam somewhere awesome
4. take the friends somewhere awesome
5. put some in a trust fund for the future chillin's future

Places I have lived
1. Bellevegas, IL
2. Logan
3. Wilminton
4. Logan
5. Sandy

Jobs I have had
1. "Personal Assistant" to a lawyer. Yeah, it sucked.
2. Piano teacher
3. Student Director of a choir
4. Accompanist
5. Waitress
6. CNA

8 TV shows I love to watch:
1. How I Met your Mother
2. Grey's Anatomy
3. The Office
4. Veronica Mars
5. Friends


8 things I am looking forward to:
1. figuring out my next 5 year-future
2. getting out of debt
3. meeting a nice man
4. dating a nice man
5. hopefully not being dumped by that nice man
6. getting a dog
7. having a kid
8. seeing my family

8 things on my wish list:
1. record some music i've written
2. money
3. vacation
4. a guitar-playing boyfriend
5. a happy ending (i stole that answer jill:o)
6. sing in a lounge/bar
7. that i could decide what i want
8. we could all get along

8 things that happened yesterday:
1. I worked
2. Watched a lot of tv
3. went to institute
4. had a spicy quiznos sandwich
5. laughed
6. got smacked on the butt
7. learned that my friend looks like a bank robber
8. talked to becca

Life and Death

Pardon the point-blank. The past few years, I have learned a lot about life. I've learned a lot about this life, and the next life. I've found lots of spiritual truths by reading the scriptures, going to church, praying. . . and not-as-spiritual truths by going to college, living with different people, testing my limits, and spending lots of time sitting on a big black leather couch. All these things have taught me a few things:

1. There is a great big plan that we do not understand fully. We only see a miniscule segment- barely a puzzle piece.

2. Life goes on. Here on earth, and after we die. We never stop learning from it, and continue to learn after we leave this place.

3. The Lord sends us "back-up" so to speak. He makes sure we have lots of people to love and be loved by.

4. I have abandonment issues. Always have. (This one, I learned from the big leather couch, not the scriptures.) Probably always will. But I was always a little on the grateful side, dark and twisty as it may be, that I can easily direct all my anger and frustrations about life in general towards one man. I can pin-point "Oh, I feel this way about this because my dad left when I was 17." Or "I have trouble trusting people--it's only because my dad left." It works for everything. It's my crutch. And I keep trying to throw it away. Just every little while, I crawl around looking for it, until I find it. And it takes so much energy to use it. And I shouldn't have to. I should be healed.

I had a few reality checks this weekend. One of them was conference. The general feeling for me was best stated by the late prophet Gordon B. Hinckley when he said "It isn’t as bad as you sometimes think it is. It all works out. Don’t worry. I say that to myself every morning. It will all work out. If you do your best, it will all work out." I felt like the Lord was just telling me to keep going, serve others, be happy. Life is good. And it is.

The other check was last night. Went with the bishopric to see a girl in our ward. Her mother passed away on Sunday. I walked in the house and gave her a hug. She was smiling, and seemed so grateful that "the suits" had come for a visit. She just kept saying "I'm doing ok" and "She's in a better place." The home was so peaceful feeling. Almost like the mother had everything "in order" before she left. The whole time I was there, I could hardly keep from crying. And how selfish of me! I just kept thinking about my stupid crutch. I looked at her, and I felt angry. I thought about, despite the wonderful conference talks, how hard life is. I thought about how bad it hurts when your boyfriend breaks up with you, how stressful money can be, being exhausted from school. And then I thought about how fun it is to like a boy and talk about him, funny stories that happened from work, and birthday cards. . . and I felt so angry. Because I get to tell my mom those things. And there are so many people who don't. I am friends with many of them. And one day, I will be one of those people too. I left in awe of this girl's faith in God. I remembered her selflessness, her kind eyes, and her happiness for her mother. I left wanting to thank God for his plan, and for all of the guidance we receive. I left thinking of my many friends who have lost loved ones, and their strength and faith. I left feeling more inadequate, and more grateful than I've ever felt.

"And, if you keep my commandments and endure to the end you shall have eternal life, which gift is the greatest of all the gifts of God." DC 14:7

The Scotsman, The Good Lord, and Salmon

How I do miss putting my hands up with my Aggie family, and "milking the cow", I am speaking about an actual Scotsman. From Scotland. His name is Ken, and he's just a doll. I met him at my old work almost 2 years ago, and he and his wife Shirley, and me and my girl Kelli really hit it off. Ken and I have been emailing back and forth, and he came into town last week to visit Rely and Josie. I took him from his hotel in SLC to Logan, and found that he is quite the religious man. Our hour and a half drive to Logan consisted of lots of stories about "God's Word" and "Praise the Lord", etc etc. It's so cool that he is that enthusiastic about his faith in the Lord. He likes to talk. Well, last night, Kelli and I drove up to Logan to have dinner with Ken. We went to the Bluebird, where he told Kelli about "God's Word" and "Praise the Lord" etc. Kelli and I were quite parched from our long and hot drive, and as soon as they brought out the soup and rolls, we were stuffing our face, and no doubt, praising the Lord for water. And just as I was finishing up my roll, Ken said "Should we say a blessing over the food?" and Kelli and I looked at each other--he had just finished asking us what church we belonged to- and then we don't say a prayer before we eat. What a terrible example, and an awkward moment! But then he DID pray over the food, very enthusiastically, and let's just say it was like when you get the giggles in church and you can't quite hide it. I couldn't tell you why it was so funny. I was just so embarrassed that he had to suggest it, and B)that I was laughing. (But it is STILL funny) Maybe you had to be there. I'm all about praying before I eat-- it's just that I usually don't vocally in a restuarant. It's just the area and the culture. Boy, was that good salmon.

Ken got us each a keychain from Scotland. He's just the sweetest man. He talked about a woman he once knew who has passed away from cancer. He alluded to the theory of being "saved". He said "I knew she hadn't learned God's word, and I didn't want her to go to Hell, so I wanted to teach it to her." or something to that effect. I was just thinking a lot last night about my Savior, and my Heavenly Father. And I just know that there is so much more than that. A sweet woman, dying of cancer, raising 2 kids by herself. . . Heavenly Father is not going to send her to Hell because she hasn't read the Bible before she dies. He loves His children too much for that. Ken and I will have some good letters to write. I hope.

On a lighter note, today at work:

I met the owner. He's attractive, flirtatious, and old enough to be my father. Hmm.

We were short this morning, meaning between the hours of 6am and 8am, there were a total of 2 people to wake up/change the whole building. Re-freaking-diculous.

I went to wake up this nice old man for breakfast. He rolls over, says "Hi doll" and grabbs my crotch. All I could muster was "NOT APPROPRIATE!" then I ran out of the room.

I really really like the people I work with. That makes all the hell "dealable".