Light Reading

I work with infants. Those already born. Few of the parents of these infants are looking to immediately get pregnant (as they have an infant already). Yet, for some reason I found this magazine in the drawer at work:
I couldn't help myself. I mean, with a headline like "The best places to make a baby", how could I resist. It turns out this entire magazine is about how to get pregnant, from romantic getaways to fertility-producing foods. Yes, the cover does boast of a story titled: Foods for Super Sperm. And, luckily, inside is a chance to win one of these:
Yes, kids, this is a fertility watch. Imagine how wonderful it would be to simply look at your wrist to see if you are fertile. Can't you just write this in your day planner. Come on really. Imagine you are out with friends and one asks you the time, and then glances at your watch. Instead of the time, they get to find out if you are fertile and what day of your cycle you are on. That seems fun, and not at all awkward.
This magazine made me really happy, not so much that it existed, but that it was at my work. I am pretty sure that the infants are not looking to get pregnant. If anything, I think they just want back in their mom's belly.
If anybody is still looking, I want the watch for Christmas.

Good things

Wow, this story made me cry.

Click here to watch

Have I mentioned that I really want to adopt, and probably want to do foster care.

Green scrubs of shame

Yesterday at work I went in to calm a crying child down. As I reached to lift the baby I felt my arm get wet. Not a good sign. Another nurse came into the room to see if she could help and I just stood their frozen, afraid to look at what could possibly be on my arm. So I lifted my arm to show her, and it turns out I got poop all over my arm. How the poop got on the outer edge of the crib is a mystery to all. Nevertheless, I was covered with stinky poop. We laughed really hard for a while then I left the crying baby to the other nurse and called to have security meet me so I could get new scrubs out of the storage room. It turns out that the only scrubs available were XL or XXXL. Now, neither of those are my size, nor near my size. Luckily I found a M top, and then just grabbed the XL bottoms. I asked the security guy if there were any other scrubs anywhere and he said no. Then I asked if there were any in the OR. He said their probably were but didn't seem too interested in going with me to look. So, I took what I could get and went back upstairs to change. I looked something like this:

Except the scrubs were longer and the top fit, and I didn't have the ugly hat, and the scrubs were green not bluish, and I wasn't in Africa. Weirdly, I was wearing the same shoes. Okay, so it wasn't much like these pictures, but this was the best I could do.
Everyone at work laughed when they saw me for the rest of the night because you only wear the green scrubs of shame if a baby has produced something that has made a mess on you, and you were not smart enough to wear a gown for protection against possible messiness. I always laugh at the other people, so turn-about is fair play.
Oh, and I got to wear the green scrubs of shame home on TRAX. And they were too long and dragged on the ground and got wet. However, now I have some really comfortable huge pajamas. Lucky me.

I have found a man who has agreed to marry you...

My dad announced last night that he has found my husband. Lucky me. Apparently his best friend's son is recently single. His future lawyer girlfriend dumped him to go to law school. That stinks. However, now it is perfect because we are both single. Woo hoo. I have met him on several occasions. We went to BYU together. He is attractive, but I am not sure that we actually have anything in common. But, his dad and my dad want us to get married because then the Becks and the Johnsons will finally co-mingle on a whole other level.
In the immortal words of J Lo: A man of my very own! You must bring me to him at once.

I believe we are now to 3 eligible bachelor's on my dad's list for me. Yip yip.

Happy days are here again

For about the last month or so (minus one day) I have been really happy again. My usual kind of happy. It is great. My happiness has increased even more in the last 2 weeks. People at work are noticing that I am back to my old self. I no longer have a heaviness about me (not talking about my weight, that is a whole different subject). It feels so good. However, my gray days do help me appreciate the good days so much more. I guess that is the concept that the bitter makes the sweet taste even sweeter. I have had enough bitter for a while, bring on the sweet!
So, an apology to all of you who had to deal with the less-happy version of myself. I am back in full force, watch out.

Oh, and a couple days ago on TRAX this lady got on who was very very drunk. She could hardly walk and smelled very strongly of alcohol. But the amusing part was that she sat right next to a girl who was reading a book (a TRAX faux-pas if there are other seats available without neighbors). She talked to the girl for several minutes (until she got of the train). The girl even said, "I am reading my book, I would rather not talk" or something to that effect. And the girl changed seats. That changed nothing. She was a very persistent drunk conversationalist. It brought a smile to my face.
At work I was telling my coworkers about my amusing train ride and then we all started talking about what kind of drunks we would be. It was determined that I would be a funny drunk. I would probably have a ton of energy and would laugh a lot. It would be annoying to other people, I am pretty sure.
On the TRAX ride home a guy stared at me the entire time. So, to make things even more uncomfortable I stared back. It was awesome.

Because you love

Imagine this:

You are in a room full of intimidating and important people, and yourself (very average). All are gathered for an in-depth discussion about a topic that is difficult for you to talk about. You are the only one showing emotion, well the only one showing great emotion. You cry through practically the entire hour and a half meeting. And there are no tissues. Oh, and you make a comment that could have been very offensive to several of the people in the room, because you call it like you see it. And several people thank you for making such a comment. Somehow, despite looking like a blabbering fool, the majority of the people in the meeting thank you when all is over, and tell you what a great person you are and how brave you were to be there and to care the way you do. And they all give you hugs. Suddenly no one is nearly as intimidating and titles are stripped away. And when all is said and done, things are going to change in a big way because of you.
It is hard to imagine. And hard to take in. And hard to process in so many ways. And the scar in your heart will never quite heal, but you will learn to let it improve you. And it will change who you are forever.

That was my morning.

Forever attempting to get me married

Last summer my dad tried to set me up with his accountant at work who was 20-something and apparently a great catch because he was done with school and had a good paying job. My dad gave this kid my number (I said it was fine, and it was the only way to get my dad to stop talking about it so much). He never called. Shocker. Then he moved to Texas. A place I have vowed never to live. Don't even get me started.

A month or two ago, my dad decided that his friend's son and I are perfect for each other. This guy is late-20s/early 30s, has a good paying job, real estate in Park City and parents that we already know and like. Obviously he and I are perfect for each other. He keeps telling me that we need to go out, but it has not gone anywhere. Shocker.

On Sunday my dad came home from church to tell me that this lady in our ward (30s, I think) wants to set me up with her brother. He is obviously a great catch because he is in dental school. Across the country. I am not sure why she asked my dad if this would be okay, but has still not talked to me about it. I guess we are going out sometime over Christmas break. With my luck we will totally hit it off and then he will go back to the mid-west where he is in school and that will be the end of that. Shocker. After my dad told me about all of this guy's "merits" I told my dad that dentists are the profession that is the most likely to cheat on their spouse. It is something about having all those cute little hygienists in the office all the time that gets em.

Yesterday I went to Provo and people kept asking me if I am dating someone. I am not. Shocker. I guess moving to Salt Lake makes people think you all of a sudden start dating all the time. Nope. It is pretty similar to Provo. Which I am okay with. I may sound bitter about dating, but I still accept offers for blind dates and set-ups. Even with a rather hilarious history of terrible blind dates, I still go on them. I am still up for trying. I just have to have a little fun with it in the mean time.

Thank you for your business, and...

So I have this adorable skirt that I bought while in Chicago, that I still have not been able to wear because of this pesky problem of it being very difficult to press. We are talking perma-wrinkled. It was driving me crazy. So, I finally took my skirt to the dry cleaners today to have them work their magic.
There is a nice man who works at our dry cleaners. He is always there. Usually after you give him your info and your clothes (hopefully not the ones you are currently wearing) he says thank you, tells you when to come get your clothes and you are on your way. Not so today. He handed me my ticket then gave me the weather forcast "it is going to be cold weather like this for the next 2 weeks. It is going to be really cold at night." I was taken off guard, but managed and "okay" in response. Then he provided me a current event, headline only "Warren Jeffs got sentenced to 10 years in prison." Wow. I think I managed to say "thank you" and drove away completely bewildered. I have never gotten so much bang for my buck at the dry cleaners.
Getting your skirt pressed: $2.65
Getting the weather and news report at the same time, and being left totally speechless: Priceless

One of the reasons I love my job

This last week at work I was working day shifts, which means I actually get to interact with my patients and their families. This week one of my patients was toddler age. This patient was not particularly fond of anyone wearing scrubs- which included me. The patient would yell "no, no, no" as soon as I walked in the room, and "owie, owie, owie" whenever I touched said patient. We had a really good relationship going on. Very functional. However, the patient did snuggle with me for a while after a particularly traumatizing event, and the entire family celebrated with me after some particularly good news. Hugs and crying and everything. And then, at the end of the day, the patient gave me a sticker. There was some motherly coaxing involved, but the patient did not say "no" the whole time I was in there, and touched me in order to put the sticker on my hand. Man, that is the reason I go to work everyday.
The family of one of my other patients gave me a ticket to High School Musical on Ice, which made me so so happy. Unfortunately, I was unable to go. But, it totally made my day, seeing as how I am obsessed with HSM (well, obsessed is not really the right word. But, I do enjoy the silliness of it), and how incredibly nice it was of this family to give me the ticket.
So, I would have to say I went home from work that day with a smile on my face. And, the smile has stayed all weekend. Ahh, I love my job.

I just don't get it

So people always ask me why I am not married, and I just don't have answers for them. I mean, I am a fine specimen of womanhood.
For example, tonight I went grocery shopping like this:

Lets just start from the top: yesterday's hair (and I didn't do my hair yesterday); I think I have dandruff (which was the reason for going to the store, it actually makes me really sad); glasses, to cover up the fact that I am not wearing any makeup; Red jacket, blue shade top; gross hands, a product of working in the hospital- I actually look as if I have leprosy, very attractive; black capri sweat pants with the words "I Suppose" on the butt; unshaven legs; chaco's (and yes, it is freezing cold outside, and no the sandels do not work well with the winter theme including the jacket and sweats); ugly toe post surgical revision, but there is a strong possibility that it is infected. Yuck.

I don't get it. How could someone not want a piece of this? The mind reels that I am not married.

However, there was a nice man at costco (middle aged) that waved and smiled at me. I think he probably thought I was homeless or something. He was driving a Mercedes, and my car barely makes it to the gas station.

Ah, life is good.

One Year

One year ago my cousin Steven and his wife Catheryn passed away at Strawberry Reservoir. I remember getting the news. I had been in class all day and when I finally was going home for the day I checked my messages and my parents had left one saying that Steven and Catherine were in a boat accident and were missing. My heart sank. I started to cry on the way home. I remember going to my grandma's house that night, and then going up to the lake nearly everyday searching for them. I remember the Sunday after this happened going to church and singing "Master the Tempest is Raging" as the opening song. I cried through the bulk of the song, as we sang:

Master, the tempest is raging!
The billows are tossing high!
The sky is oershadowed with blackness
No shelter or help is nigh
Carest Thou not that we perish?
How canst Thou lie asleep
When each moment so madly is threatening
A grave in the angry deep?

The winds and the waves obey Thy will
Peace, be still!

I remember in that same meeting that the stake president was going to ask everyone to go up to Strawberry to go help with the search that day, had a ground search still been needed. So many people reached out in love when they heard about the accident. There are some truly good people in this world.

I remember the sorrow felt as a family for the loss of our cousins that we loved, and the closeness that it caused among our extended family. The constant stories of the miracles of Kimball and a friend, Mike getting out of the lake alive. Steven and Catheryn are two of my heroes.

I remember playing in grandma and grandpa's back yard as a child with Steven. I recall a few occasions of making Grasshopper Stew for people we weren't particularly fond of at the time. I remember playing night games, when it was still safe for kids to do that. As cousins, we all had a lot of fun playing together as kids.

That week of my life will be one I don't forget. They were truly lovely people.

Lorin, Steven's brother, made a beautiful tribute video, feel free to watch it:

TRAX and I are in a fight

More accurately, transportation in general and I are in a fight.
So a few days ago I rode TRAX to work. I love TRAX. Normally we get along fabulously. All went wrong on Saturday morning when I was riding home. At the station there were two trains, both shorter than normal. Trying to be smart about it, I chose the longer of the trains to board thinking that they would use the train with more space for transport. Oh how I was wrong. I got on the train, the driver was just standing there waiting around for departure time, a usual occurance. I sit down and only moments later the other train leaves. Rude. I said to the driver "If I would have known the other train was leaving, I would have gotten on that one." He indicated that that was the other portion of our train and we would be meeting up and connecting togther at the next station. Whew. So I sat, patiently waiting. We finally leave the station and meet the other train at the next station. We proceeded to bump into the car in front of us repeatedly while trying to connect all the cars. Apparently if you slam into the train in front of you hard enough the two trains will magically connect. 10ish minutes later, still not connected, the front train leaves. Rude. At this point I have already missed one connecting train. So, we eventually go, way way behind schedule. And, because we had to wait for the other train at each stop, it took forever to get anywhere. Meanwhile, I miss another connecting train (this one I see driving past as we are a mere block from the station. Rude. So, I sat in the freezing cold waiting for the next train for 15 minutes. Personally, I think it would have made a lot more sense to put all of us passengers on one of the trains, and do the normal route, meanwhile having the other train drive past the stations without stopping. Then, connect at the end of the route where there is actually time to do something like that. I should run TRAX. That is if we weren't in a fight.
So, I took a day off from riding the train. We needed our space. Yesterday evening I was all ready to ride again. I head to work at my normal time. The station is a whopping 1.1 miles from my house. Turns out it takes like 10 minutes to go a couple blocks now that the new hospital is open. Rude. I miss my train. Rude. I hate the Death Star aka IMC aka IMed aka Intermountain Medical Center. Turns out from now on if I want to go West I have to go East and if I want to go North I have to go South. Stupid traffic.
Raving completed.

the stub

Lortab makes me have weird dreams/nightmares. And it makes my stomach queesy. And it makes me tired. On the otherhand, it takes the pain away for a couple hours. I am not sure if it is worth it. Luckily, I only took Lortab once today, so we are moving up. The motrin seems to be covering most of the pain. Yeah.
I was really doing quite well today until I stubbed my toe really really hard into the metal strip on the edge of the stair into the kitchen. Yeah, that hurt. Overall, however, my toe is doing better. I still can't walk too much, but I am not in constant pain anymore. I hope I am better by Wednesday night, because I have to work all night. That is the goal.

Amputation may be the answer

I got that part of my toenail removed, and now it hurts more than the ingrown toenail did. Dangit. Supposedly they did a matrixectomy. Any sort of ectomy makes me nervous. Ripping something off my bone makes me uncomfortable. And it makes me hurt.
I went to the doctor again today (after trying to call a few people to get their opinions). He said my toe looks great and the procedure seems to have been done very well. He also gave me this little tidbit "I usually tell people they will need to be off their foot for a week to 10 days." That would have been good to know. Shoot. And he is so very very right. I am taking Lortab and anytime I stand up or walk around at all, I get this very bad throbbing/gnawing pain in my toe and down the side of my foot. Then I have to ice my toe for a while so that it goes numb so I don't notice the pain. The sad thing is, my toe feels fine if I am laying down. So then I get ambitious and stand up, to say throw something away. 30 to 45 minutes later, after laying back down, I am feeling fine again. So, it turns out that I may become disabled at the ripe young age of 24. Sad, but that is the way it goes. I am thinking a toe amputation may be best. Think of all the shoes I could finally wear if we cut my big fat big toe off. But then, for some reason I have this perception that the big toe is needed for balance during walking. I could be wrong. And, I tend to think that anything that is a normal part of the body should be left alone. No unnecessary amputations for me.

Toes and such

A few days ago (2-4) I cut my toenail too short. Oops. See, my toenail split, then I ripped off the part that split and it tore really low on the side. Then I tried to cut it to make it smooth. And, that is how I got where I am now. My toe has continued to get more sore each day, more red each day, and more swollen each day. It has gotten to the point that it hurts like crazy when touched at all. Hence, walking is undesirable. That is a problem. I tried digging it out on my own, but it hurt so bad that I couldn't do it. So, tonight I went to the instacare. At 10:50 pm I finally got in to see a doctor. He numbed my toe a ton, and then removed the offensive toenail. You know what they say, if it offends you cut it out. "And if thy right hand offend thee, cut it off, and cast it from thee" (Matt 5:30). The removal went well. I watched the whole thing. I am sick and enjoy things like that. Now I have a huge bandage on my toe, such that I cannot wear shoes. I am supposed to keep the large bandage on my toe for a few days, making working impossible as shoes are necessary. Right now the numbing is wearing off, and it is kindof hurting. I hope that it doesn't keep hurting after the numbing is gone. Meanwhile, I guess I get a day off of work. Lucky me.
Moral: keep your toenails long and straight across the top. The alternative is no good. None.

2nd post of the day- crazy talk

Last night I had a dream (it was so real, it didn't feel like a dream) that I was in South Bend and was needing to move there NOW. I didn't have much with me, I was just visiting. But, for some reason I needed to find a job immediately, and get a car right now. It was a lot of pressure. I was trying to orchestrate a spur of the moment move across the country. And start a new job. And find somewhere to live.
Weird.

I want a kitten

Last night I heard a kitten crying outside. I could tell it was little little kitten. I have experienced the birth and growth of two litters of kittens, so I can tell, somewhat, how old a kitten is by it's cry. This was definitely a new-born cry. So, I went outside and found an itty bitty kitty behind the big bush outside the kitchen window. All by itself. Crying. I immediately wanted to adopt it, but knew that my dad would never go for it. So, my mom and I decided to bring it inside and take care of it until we could take it to the humane society tomorrow. I brought it in, and tried to feed it some milk from a syringe, but it was having a hard time eating. I went outside and saw a cat watching me. Hoping that was the mama cat, I put the baby in a pile of towels in a box on the back porch. Then I watched. In just a couple minutes the cat came and rescued her baby. Yeah. The baby has a home. I still wish it was my kitten. I miss having kittens. It was cute and white and grey. And little. And fluffy.

Dwight and Angela

Yesterday I was riding the train home from work and I saw this couple. He was of bigger build with spiky hair, looked to be in his mid 40s. And he is balding (yet still has the spiky awkward hair). She is very small, thin and blond. Neither smile very much. I have seen them several times.

Every time I see them I think of Dwight and Angela and a smile comes to my face.

I Heart Pioneer Woman

This lady is awesome. I love her love story. I would be okay with my own "Marlboro Man". Any really great men out there?

My dad: Matchmaker

my dad is trying to set me up with someone again. Last time he tried this he gave the guy (the accountant at his office) my number. He never called. I know, shocking. So, he has done this again. Instead, this time it is my parents really good friend's son. Yeah, that way everyone can be involved if/when we go out. We might as well triple with his parents and my parents. That would be fun. And not at all awkward. Lucky me.