Humbling comment

Lucas and I were walking with my niece Abigail this weekend. This was a conversation that was definitely humbling for me.

Lucas: Abigail, are you going to be taller than Marla when you grow up?
Abigail: No, (dramatic pause) but I'm going to be smarter.

You can't fault her, she's only four and a half, and she is VERY smart already. It wouldn't surprise me in the slightest if she were right.

Monopoly Madness

I LOVE games. Any game will do, cards, board, computer, strategy, logic, luck, chance... I LOVE THEM! I can spend entire weekends in Seattle playing Canasta or Scrabble. Long weekends in Salem playing so many games of Pinochle I don't remember the sun setting. I'll play "memory match" with my niece, I'll even let her win if it means I can play another round!

On the other hand, it's no secret, Lucas HATES games. He'll play them, he's even good at them, but he hates them. I'll get him to play Boggle when we're camping, and we'll play "battle" ( our version of war, with only half a deck) but besides that, he hates them.

I knew this when I married him, really I think it's his only downfall. I grew up with an entire closet devoted to games, weekends full of games, chocolate milk and nacho cheese Doritoes. He grew up never even playing Go Fish.

When we first got married, I tried to make him play Monopoly. He made it around the board twice, before he declared it "stupid" and walked away. This weekend in Boise was another story. During nap time, Suzi, Nathanael, and Us played a game of Monopoly. (I think it was even Lucas' idea, maybe it's something in the Boise air, or that he secretly liked playing "Guess Who?") It was overall a short game. Maybe two hours. At the end of the hours, Lucas won. No one let him win either, he won fair and square... and I think he's still riding on the andrenaline of winning.

There's nothing like winning a game of Monopoly... investing the time, squeezing money out of other players, building the little red hotels. By the time the game was through, Lucas had Hotels from St. James to Pennsylvania... the oranges, reds, yellows, AND greens! He was my own Donald Trump. He won, and with that MAYBE I did two a little bit... MAYBE now he'll play more games with me... I won't bet Boardwalk on it... but maybe he'll dream of little green houses or the glorious victory.

You know you're at Emanuel when...

I've been working a lot recently. For those who don't know, I work at Emanuel Hospital. It's the "ghetto" hospital of Portland. There are occasional shootings (yes with guns) in the park across the street. Frequently our Emergency room gets "locked down" because of violence. I don't work with trauma patients. I work with the medical ones. I love my job. As one of our supervisors say... "you can't make this stuff up"

So, here's a few "you know you're at Emanuel when..."

• instead of a driver's license, your patient has a prison ID card
• your patient signs out AMA (against medical advice) at 0100, so she can still make it to her 0200 drug deal.
• you find money in body orifices.
• someone can be talking with you with a blood alcohol level of .3 (any of us would be PASSED OUT bordering on needing a breathing machine).
• your patient, who has no lower legs, signs out AMA and crawls out the front door.
• you can have urine, blood, poop and vomit on the floor of a patient's room, and not even flinch.

If nothing else, I always get good stories with being a nurse at Emanuel!

not a boy scout

My dad is an eagle scout... he is always prepared... that's the motto, be prepared. I proved this weekend that I am NOT a boy scout, or even a girl scout... I was not prepared.

Lucas and I went camping this weekend with our friends Patti and Dan. We went to Cape Lookout State Park, outside of Tillamook. Even though I grew up in Tillamook, I don't think that I've ever camped at this park. But that's not the point of this story. It was a beautiful day, clear skies, even warm for the Oregon coast.

We packed what we felt we needed, but in our defense, we packed quickly. We had woken up early to drive to the Portland Farmer's market for Biscuits and Gravy. I don't like Biscuits and Gravy, Lucas swears this vendor had the BEST B & G around. I had a tasty biscuit sandwich, but I digress again. We hurried home and packed quickly...

Patti and Dan had mentioned a hike... luckily I did pack our hiking boots. What we didn't pack was water, sunscreen or snacks. It was a 5 mile, beautiful hike out to the point of Cape Lookout. It was a lovely view. We were thirsty. We were hungry. Luckily Patti brought two bottles of water and shared. She also shared some tasty trail mix, which I don't think I've actually ever eaten on a trail.

Then we went to the camp site, set up camp. As the night progressed, it got cold. Somehow I thought we were still summer camping (it's the beginning of September) and I did not pack enough clothes. We also didn't pack our flashlights (again Dan to the rescue with a head lamp for us to borrow) As I snuggled into my mummy sleeping bag, with not enough clothes, Lucas without socks, we thought WHY DIDN'T WE PACK WARMER CLOTHES! It made me think of an opening game I went to a few years back with Jill... how we FROZE watching the Mariners... FROZE (a mistake we've never repeated) But, that's just another tangent for another time...

In the morning we emerged from our tents, barely rested, still frozen. Patti and Dan emerged with warm layers, two flashlights and good sleep... They went off to do a morning hike, we packed up to drive home and sleep.

Maybe they are the scouts Lucas and I aren't.

dingleberries and boars

It's 0200. I am at work. We were just talking about what patients have either called us, or threatened us with. The things that come out of a 93 year old woman's mouth that make you gasp, and then bust up laughing... laughing makes them more mad. So, here is a small list of quotes that have stood out.



PARENTAL WARNING: the following list may contain words that are offensive, images that are unable to be removed from your fragile brain or phrases even a sailor wouldn't have thought of.

• "what kind of people raised you"
• "you shit-cock" (from a 93 year old lady's mouth)
• "you giving my potassium... good, 'cause it gives me a hard on" (EEW!)
• "when you came into the room, I thought you were going to be a real bitch... and I was right"
• "you're as worthless as tit's on a boar"
• "I'll cut off your tally-wacker and hang you by your dingleberries" (told to a male nurse)
• and my personal favorite ever said to me: "suck my dick you fucking fart" (I love the use of the word fart)

There's more... there's always more... more stories, more laughs. And it's only with laughter can you get through an occasional 12 hour shift with this type of abuse. But really, what other job can you hear this stuff... and not make it up!