Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Sometimes I Still Have A Heart

It's easy to become jaded in the nursing profession.  It's a lot of give and not much take.  Every once in a while, I get a patient who tugs at my heart strings.
Yesterday, I was already in a fierce mood at work.  I got a call that I was going to get an ambulance from a nursing home.  Ground level fall with hip pain with dementia.  I prepared myself for the worst.  The man was an angel.  Smiled at me from the beginning, cooperative with whatever I asked, and sweet as can be.  We did the necessary work up and found out he was just fine.  I called to arrange for transport back to his home.  I helped him get dressed.  He struggled with the button on his pants and the knot in my throat felt like a boulder.  I asked him if I could help him button and he looked at me with pleading eyes, "please" he asked.  I  buttoned him up and put his sweater on and shoes.  I sat him back down on the bed and asked him if there was anything I could get him while he was waiting.  No, he said.  I was desperate to do something nice for this man.  Water?  "No, thank you."  Television?  "No, thank you."  Newspaper?  "No, thank you."  My heart was welling up and about to overflow through my eyes in enormous tears.  Coffee?  His eyes were round saucers like a puppy dog waiting for a bone.  "I would love some."  I tore out of the room to the coffee machine, made a fresh cup and brought it too him.  I seriously don't think I've ever seen anyone more grateful for a cup of coffee.  He was smiling from ear to ear with each sip.  I'll admit, he saw the tears come one by one.  He asked me, "what's wrong darlin'?"  I told him I was just happy to help him.  He reached over and patted my hand.
That was it.  It was enough gratitude from one man to last me at least 4 weeks.
Too bad I couldn't bring him home with me.

Monday, August 13, 2012

Different Kinds of Love

I worked all weekend.  It was tiring but fulfilling work for the most part.  I didn't have a single pt. who didn't need to be the ER.  All of them were definitely having emergencies.  I realize now that maybe the fillers (people who could go to a clinic) are a gift to help me not feel so tired all the time.  Goodness knows if every pt. that came into the ER needed life saving treatment, I'd only last a few weeks in my profession.
More to the point.  After working all weekend, driving home last night I couldn't wait to get my arms around Sydney.  When I walked through the door, Sydney was running to me saying "mommy, mommy, mommy."  The feeling was unbelievable.  Hugging her was like an explosion of sheer joy followed by an ooze of perfection and satisfaction.  Words don't do it justice to explain the love I have for that child.  In my opinion, that's the most pure, unselfish love I'll ever get to experience in this human world.
I'll say I've been in romantic love once before.  Of course, it was with my husband.  In retrospect, that love was lurking of darkness.  Until now, I didn't realize how filthy loving him made me feel.  He was a fun guy and a nice guy most of the time, but I believe God has a hand in helping you choose the person you are to be with.  Too many things pulled me in a different direction from him while we were still dating.  But I forged onward, because I was selfish for the love he made me crave.  That love was hungry to the verge of famished.  Greedy.  Not even in reference to him, but I was like a dry paper towel trying to absorb water by trying to absorb all the love I could from that relationship.  All it did was leave me weak and virtually useless.
I realize romantic love takes work.  But it shouldn't make you feel filthy or sinful while working towards it.  In my future endeavors toward it, I've got to remind myself not to go back there again.  
A last realization... Even in the covetous love I so desperately yearned for, I believe God rewarded me with pure love for being so faithful and committing myself to the love I sought.  That pure love comes from, you guessed it, Sydney.

Thursday, August 9, 2012

The End of a Process

Today a weight has been lifted off of my shoulders.  To explain, it will require a few references to the past please excuse the meanderings.
I remember driving my clunker of a car to my first job interview for a nursing position over an hour away from my home.  I also remember it breaking down in the middle of the commute.  A kind police officer gave me a jump and helped me get to the next exit while my then father-in-law drove to exchange vehicles with me so I could make it to my vehicle.  After a few tears over the mishap and getting the position working nights on a cardiac unit, I begged to be allowed to get a new vehicle.  After much searching and negotiation, we found my Ford Fusion 2010.  I counted it a sign from God I was doing the right thing that my old car got simultaneous flats as I drove it into the car dealership to trade in for a glorious 1000 dollars (ha, probably for the money on scrap metal).
We signed the paperwork together (Chase and I).  He was the primary and I was co-signer has he had more credit built up than I. Payments began.
Fast forward to the end of April of this year.  I began the process of attempting to get registration in my new state of residence.  I got all the paperwork together that I thought I would need.  Marriage certificate (as I had purchased the vehicle when my name had not been changed from my maiden name), death certificate, driver's license, proof of insurance, and title that showed his and my name.  I waited in line with my sweet girl for 30 minutes to be told that I would need HIS signature to be allowed to register the vehicle.  After breaking into a hysteric cry, I was ushered to a manager who explained that I would need the title in my name only to be able to register and to go home and speak with my lean holder.
Three conversations with Ford Motor Credit and over a month later, Ford suggested I do a transfer of equity.  This took approximately 3 weeks to complete.  They graciously mailed a copy of the title now supposedly only in my name, to the DMV.  I allowed two weeks for mail time and made my second trip to the DMV, for them to tell me that the paperwork had not arrived yet.  I waited another three days and made the third trip to the DMV, for them to tell me that the paperwork had been rejected because HIS name remained on the title.  I burst into tears walking away from the counter for a third time.  I called my father in tears explaining my predicament.  The next day he spoke with the supervisor at the DMV in person.  Found out about a blessed form T-20 for inheritance of property.  I had it notarized.  Waited another week because my 30 binder for proof of insurance in Georgia's electronic system had lapsed and needed to be re-entered in the system and a hard copy proof of insurance wouldn't work.
TODAY!  I took the documents I had originally taken to the DMV... marriage certificate, death certificate, PLUS this T-20 form that no one had mentioned to me at the beginning of all this mess.  The original title with his name and my name worked beautifully.  I now am driving a registered vehicle.  It only took four months and a lot of reciprocity.
Tell me our government works like a smooth sailing ship and I'll tell you I saw a pig fly by my window last night.

Thursday, August 2, 2012

Chicken

Yesterday, the masses flocked to Chick-Fil-A in support of either 1.Mr. Truett's views on marriage or 2.The  Right to Freedom of Speech.  I for one went on the principle of freedom of speech.
I agree with Mr. Truett on all levels though.  Marriage should be between man and woman.  Marriage is a biblical and religious concept.  Marriage did not begin as a legal bond.  Therefore, I say the bible can determine who can and cannot be married.  I have nothing against people in committed homosexual relationships.  I have many people in my life who are homosexual and I love them as much as my heterosexual friends.
However, the gay community deciding to ban Chick-Fil-A based on the owner's theology is asinine.
Sydney loves Elmo.  Sesame Street has recently pulled their toys from Chick-Fil-A for kid's meals.  A friends of mine saw Sydney with Elmo and said, "You really shouldn't support Sesame Street any more" in regards to their stance on Chick-Fil-A.  In my opinion, that would be doing the same thing that Chick-Fil-A is doing.  Sesame Street is voicing their opinion about something they believe.  To boycott them for that, in my opinion, would be immature.
For now, unless they become more corrupt in the broadcast to my toddler, Sydney will continue to scream "MELMO!!!" every time we pass anything to do with the furry red guy.