Hello, Thirteen!

Today my neice, Bekah, turned thirteen. ThirTEEN! I am so excited for her!

It does make me feel the years a bit. Nevertheless, I'm so thrilled for her because I loved being a teen... ahh the days! Friends, fun, first kisses, first love, seemingly never ending summers!

Wednesday we went for pedicures and had a good time regardless of the dirty looks we got from my nail technician after I squealed, nearly kicked her chin when she tickled me with that pumice stone and caused the two of us to break out in a fit of the giggles. My future fungal infection will be payback enough but it's the price we pay for cute toes!

I just wanted to wish you a very Happy Birthday, Bekah!

I hope that your teenage years are just as carefree and fun as I remember mine to be.

Have a good time down in Tucson and I'll see you when you get back!





Love you lots,

Auntie Katherine

231/365 Bekah

Talented. Creative. Smart. Funny. Confident. Artistic. Pretty. Sassy. Silly. Snuggly. Huggly. Flirty. Loving. Warm. Caring. Nurturing. Sensitive. Friendly. Girly. Sporty. Shy. Giggly. TALL. Tan. Witty. Wonderful. Quirky. Moody.

Teenage!

I love you.

Happy Birthday!

I am a participant in x365.

Adventures In Tucson

German Chocolate À La Mode

It's been almost a week since my mom's birthday last Thursday (January 10th) and I meant to post a Happy Birthday Wish but was too busy to do so. The night before her birthday I drove down to Tucson, unbeknownst to my her, picked up a steamy, melty pizza pie from Oregano's (best.pizza.EVER) and showed up at their front door. My dad knew I was coming so he quietly let me in while my mom peeked through the front blinds, wondering who could be ringing the doorbell at 7 o'clock at night. I sicked Dookie on her while she was peeking and got the best surprised response that I hoped for! (yay! I love surprises!)

We spent the next morning having coffee and then went to the church to help serve lunch to the kiddies at school, which I immediately agreed to do only after making sure there were no hair nets or booties involved. (Only kidding. Kind of.) When we were finished, we went out for barbecue per my mom's request.

Thanks for lunch, Daddy!

After a little shopping we drove back home to relax, only to find that Dookie had burrowed under the gate and gotten out. My first reaction was to shake my head and say, "Oh, Dookie! Silly puppy!", followed by a reality check, during which the panic set in. She was only wearing her collar and had no single piece of identification on her. (Bad! Bad puppy owner!) We scoured the neighborhood and all I could think was the worst. Cute, potty trained (more or less) puppy with no tags... Someone will scoop her up and love her forever. Busy intersection... Unthinkable horror! Either way, I'd never see her again! Screw my slippers, Christmas ornaments, carpeting, dishwasher (don't ask) ... I wanted my baby back! A couple of hours of driving around streets and allies, and a few tearful phone calls to the Humane Society later, I spotted my parents down the street. They had pulled off to the side of the road to ask a couple of teenagers if they had seen her. My mom began waving her arms at me like she was signaling a rescue helicopter. Running as fast as my flip flopped feet could carry me, I landed on their front porch with mascara streaming down my face. Dookie had been running up and down the street and then managed to find the one house with three other pit bulls. She just sat on their front stoop until someone let her in so she could hang with her PB Homies. I could have peed myself, I was so relieved to see her hop out the door all puppy-ish and happy with no CLUE as to what she put her mama through. Kisses, kisses, hugs, tears and more kisses.

That evening, my dad boarded up the gates the best that he could, while Dookie no longer did her duty unattended by a human (even if the thermometer outside does read 20 degrees Farenheit). My mom opened her gifts, we sang Happy Birthday and my dad served up cake and ice cream. We kicked back to watched Leno and Conan, while Dookie made herself at home on her own personal doggie bed.

Love the Dook

I drove home the next afternoon so I could go to work. Needless to say, Dookie now has a brand new shiny ID tag and our next visit to the vet will include microchip placement!

Sometimes, More Is More

Cupcake, originally uploaded by scoobers

Cupcake season has officially arrived! The air outside is cool(er). Ovens are fired up. Bloggers are baking. Each time I log on I see cupcakes galore and the places where I don't see cupcakes I find people seeking them out. Lori, this is yet another tortuous post for you to endure during your prenatal cravings. Apologies!

Today, my friend, KB turned thirty-six years old and so I thought I would officially ring in cupcake season by whipping up a batch of my own special*, sprinkled, delights for her. I planned to make enough so that her 'herd' would be able to enjoy them as well. I filled the cups half way with batter so I could stretch it out and make more of them. I ended up with cakes not mushrooming over the tops of their tinfoil incubators but resembling golden brown hockey pucks. In order to compensate for the missing tops I layered the sweet, delicious vanilla cream frosting on pretty thick.

On her way over to my house tonight, KB received a phone call from the family of one of our patients who told her that he had lost his year long battle with cancer. It was pretty tough to hear because I know they made every effort, tried every option and that he fought with everything he had. The family is super tight, as is the bond between my patient and his brother. I pray that he finds the means to make it though such a difficult time.

Now, I can't sleep because my mind is running in circles, again, over the reactions of others towards choices I have made and continue to make. Earlier tonight, KB and I drove out to the hospital together to visit another patient of ours. On the way there I told her that a couple of the other nurses shook their heads in a disapproving manner when they found out that we visit our patients after they are moved to ICU or keep in touch with them or their families after they are discharged. We talked about the line that should not be crossed and how to know when you've reached it.

During the conversation between KB and our patient's brother he told her that 'D' told him to let, specifically, the two of us know that he felt truly cared for by us. Going beyond our 'work' in the hospital made a difference in his life and the appreciation for that was voiced by his family. This only solidifies my thinking that our patients are still our patients whether or not we see them when we clock in to work and that taking the time, our own time, to make sure they are taken care of makes a difference in how they perceive the 'care' they get. I plan to continue giving more of myself to my patients and their families. If this means that I become attached to some of them and end up hurting because of an unfortunate outcome then so be it. The sorrow I feel is nothing compared to what they must go through and if spending time with them, crying with them and following up with their families after they've gone is what it takes for them to know that their caregivers truly care, then that is what I need to do.

Right now, I am going to go to the kitchen to soothe myself with cupcakes, extra extra frosting and a big glass of ice cold milk.

*By 'my own' I mean my own box of Betty Crocker vanilla cake mix and white vanilla frosting.