My youngest daughter is funny. She is funny in a purposeful way, but also funny in a totally unintended way too. I was reminded of this little tale by my supervisor the other day...
When Popcorn was in Kindergarten, we were in the process of moving back to Oklahoma. Brent had already came to this state in March, and we had decided that I would stay in South Texas, letting our kids complete the school year, as he was going to be living in a travel trailer, and we didn't know exactly where we were going to live. We didn't want to put them in one school for the final two months of school, then change to a different school the final year. This was hard and we ended up pulling the kids out of school at the end of the year and home schooling them...Of course, we made that decision when Oklahoma had only two weeks of school left, and Texas still had nearly a month, so I use the term loosely...Read here "no curriculum but we read books and colored every day and did math papers. Oh, and we went to the zoo at least three times a week because we were living in a travel trailer, and I wasn't working, so the zoo was free since we had a pass and I would pack a lunch." Did you ever think you'd hear the words "PLEASE don't make us go to the zoo again, Mommy." I heard it over and over. But I was going insane in that trailer, and there is only so much time you can spend on the campground swing set and playing ping pong with a 6 & 7 year old before you lose your mind...
However, this story actually takes place BEFORE we had moved here.
Back stories with a person this verbose are unavoidable.
It was Mother's Day. My beautiful children insisted they make me breakfast in bed. The made toast with peanut butter and honey, a bowl of cereal, and a pot of coffee. They used nearly the entire can of coffee for one pot. So it was good and strong!
As we prepared for church Popcorn informed me we were eating out for lunch. We were on a very tight budget as we were paying for Brent's trailer park rent plus our normal household expenses and I had stopped working so I could be the sole care giver for the kids. I evaded saying that I would probably just make us a quick lunch. Popcorn was having none of that! "No, Mommy. I'm taking YOU out!"
So after church we loaded into our van and she instructed me to head to Dairy Queen. There we ordered our regular food, me a cheeseburger with everything and fries, and the girls each got a popcorn chicken meal. When it came time to pay Popcorn turned to me and whispered, "Mom! I need your debit card so I can pay for lunch!"
And she took my card and happily swiped it. She proudly handed it back to me and said, "Happy Mother's Day!"
Friday, October 7, 2011
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Signs of The Times
I'm observant. I notice people. What they are wearing, their hair, their overall appearance of health. I tend to spontaneously make diagnoses as I'm out and about based on skin tone, fingernail health and the shape of their hands and chest...The list goes on. I like to watch people and see how they act, and wonder what they are doing, where they are from and what sort of lives they lead. I like to try and guess if the mom stays home or if the grandma is raising her grandkids, or if that dad who is buying groceries with kids in tow is going to get home with any real food...
Like I said, I'm observant.
Except when I'm not observant, and then I'm just narcissistic and wrapped up in myself.
I'm sure that is an astounding revelation as I write a blog that is all about me. Clearly, any narcissism I have is minimal...
I went grocery shopping on Saturday evening, and while I had not planned to coupon (and believe me if you're using "coupon" as a verb it takes extensive planning) my husband had suggested I run to Crest for all but the toiletries we were in need of.
As I walked into the store I saw an in-store coupon sheet that had a giant sign on it "One flyer per customer and one coupon per item listed per day." I chuckled at the sign, remembering a lady who walked right in front of me at Homeland the other day and took every single in store coupon flyer. And she didn't even let me have one! I just stood their and stared with my jaw on the ground. In hindsight, I wish I had said, "Seriously lady?" However, Crest has a lovely greeter who hands you a cart and stands right by the coupon bin, so I doubt they have that issue.
I happily picked up the flyer and perused it. It looked to have some pretty good deals, but until I saw the price of the product I was unsure. I also was unsure if I could stack the coupons in the flyer with manufacturer coupons, so again I was skeptical on it's worthiness, but decided to compare as I shopped. I was pleasantly surprised to realize that the coupons were usually on two items, but if you used the coupon, your second item would be free. For example Kraft singles were two dollars and the coupon was for two dollars off two packages of Kraft singles.
I joyfully pulled my handy dandy scissors out of my coupon organizer and clipped out the coupons I decided to use as I bought my originally planned items.
As I clipped my coupons I could not help but notice the number of people who were buying the exact item I was, but not using a coupon. I felt compelled to point the coupon flyer out to them. A few of the said "thanks" but others felt coupons were too much work. Even if the flyer was right in front of them and the item was on sale!
I also noticed the large number of families carrying multiple competitor store flyers around, deciding which store had the best price and whether they should wait and go to Homeland in the hopes that they could get some good double coupon deals, or debating if Walmarts chicken breast would be cheaper after the coupon was factored in. Granted, I'm fairly new to couponing, but I promise the amount of people with plastic shoe boxes and binders full of coupons is astounding. Take a gaze around next time you are in the store. You might be surprised.
If you are ever in the downtown area the other thing you might be surprised to notice is the alarming amount of homeless. I drive under the interstate on my way to work in the downtown area every day. As I am driving, the homeless are starting to get up from their beds under the bridge. They each have their own little space between the bridge beams, and they are usually getting up and stretching or straightening their beds as I am stopped waiting on lights. There is also an empty lot just north of the underpass, and the other day I noticed a man standing up in the Johnson grass and diligently combing his hair. Another day I saw a man and woman walking with their arms around each other as they left the little underpass community.
As I mentioned yesterday I went to a resale shop and grabbed some clothes for the girls. Two of the shirts I bought were from Old Navy and still had the tags on them, but I only paid $2.99 for them. I even noticed some jeans from The Buckle with the tag still on them. They were $8.99, and way too big for my girls. I didn't buy them as I have no desire to store jeans for two years in the hopes that the super skinny jean will still be in style when one of my kids can fit them.
Today as we left gymnastics Popcorn begged me to take her to eat Chinese. I was resisting her, saying that her father and I had already discussed tonight would be leftover night, and she could have a sandwich or hot pocket or burrito if she didn't want leftover lasagna...My husband called and suggested that next week we start swapping off who takes Popcorn to gymnastics and make Thursday a little date night with the kids. I decided to make the plan effective immediately, and I wheeled into a little Chinese place in a nearby shopping strip. I had skipped lunch at work, and though I'd stuffed my face with cookies, a handful of goldfish left from my daughter's lunch and a few almonds when I got home, it did not satisfy my hunger. Skipping lunch tends to do that to me.
As we left the shopping strip I noticed that there were sprinklers going in all of the flower beds. The wind is blowing 25 miles per hour and the water was running down the driveway. I find that shameful when we are in a drought that is showing no signs of any significant relief.
So, I really had nothing to say. Just lots of observations.
People are desperate to save money, while others can't even be bothered to take advantage of a deal when it is easily within their grasp.
There is a serious drought going on, and I can't help but shake my head at the folks who have maintained immaculately green lawns.
Some are selling clothes on consignment that have never been worn, while just twenty minutes away others have built themselves a little village under the bridge in downtown.
P.S. On a totally unrelated/irreverent note: Every time I type in couponing, blogger spell check suggests coupling...
Like I said, I'm observant.
Except when I'm not observant, and then I'm just narcissistic and wrapped up in myself.
I'm sure that is an astounding revelation as I write a blog that is all about me. Clearly, any narcissism I have is minimal...
I went grocery shopping on Saturday evening, and while I had not planned to coupon (and believe me if you're using "coupon" as a verb it takes extensive planning) my husband had suggested I run to Crest for all but the toiletries we were in need of.
As I walked into the store I saw an in-store coupon sheet that had a giant sign on it "One flyer per customer and one coupon per item listed per day." I chuckled at the sign, remembering a lady who walked right in front of me at Homeland the other day and took every single in store coupon flyer. And she didn't even let me have one! I just stood their and stared with my jaw on the ground. In hindsight, I wish I had said, "Seriously lady?" However, Crest has a lovely greeter who hands you a cart and stands right by the coupon bin, so I doubt they have that issue.
I happily picked up the flyer and perused it. It looked to have some pretty good deals, but until I saw the price of the product I was unsure. I also was unsure if I could stack the coupons in the flyer with manufacturer coupons, so again I was skeptical on it's worthiness, but decided to compare as I shopped. I was pleasantly surprised to realize that the coupons were usually on two items, but if you used the coupon, your second item would be free. For example Kraft singles were two dollars and the coupon was for two dollars off two packages of Kraft singles.
I joyfully pulled my handy dandy scissors out of my coupon organizer and clipped out the coupons I decided to use as I bought my originally planned items.
As I clipped my coupons I could not help but notice the number of people who were buying the exact item I was, but not using a coupon. I felt compelled to point the coupon flyer out to them. A few of the said "thanks" but others felt coupons were too much work. Even if the flyer was right in front of them and the item was on sale!
I also noticed the large number of families carrying multiple competitor store flyers around, deciding which store had the best price and whether they should wait and go to Homeland in the hopes that they could get some good double coupon deals, or debating if Walmarts chicken breast would be cheaper after the coupon was factored in. Granted, I'm fairly new to couponing, but I promise the amount of people with plastic shoe boxes and binders full of coupons is astounding. Take a gaze around next time you are in the store. You might be surprised.
If you are ever in the downtown area the other thing you might be surprised to notice is the alarming amount of homeless. I drive under the interstate on my way to work in the downtown area every day. As I am driving, the homeless are starting to get up from their beds under the bridge. They each have their own little space between the bridge beams, and they are usually getting up and stretching or straightening their beds as I am stopped waiting on lights. There is also an empty lot just north of the underpass, and the other day I noticed a man standing up in the Johnson grass and diligently combing his hair. Another day I saw a man and woman walking with their arms around each other as they left the little underpass community.
As I mentioned yesterday I went to a resale shop and grabbed some clothes for the girls. Two of the shirts I bought were from Old Navy and still had the tags on them, but I only paid $2.99 for them. I even noticed some jeans from The Buckle with the tag still on them. They were $8.99, and way too big for my girls. I didn't buy them as I have no desire to store jeans for two years in the hopes that the super skinny jean will still be in style when one of my kids can fit them.
Today as we left gymnastics Popcorn begged me to take her to eat Chinese. I was resisting her, saying that her father and I had already discussed tonight would be leftover night, and she could have a sandwich or hot pocket or burrito if she didn't want leftover lasagna...My husband called and suggested that next week we start swapping off who takes Popcorn to gymnastics and make Thursday a little date night with the kids. I decided to make the plan effective immediately, and I wheeled into a little Chinese place in a nearby shopping strip. I had skipped lunch at work, and though I'd stuffed my face with cookies, a handful of goldfish left from my daughter's lunch and a few almonds when I got home, it did not satisfy my hunger. Skipping lunch tends to do that to me.
As we left the shopping strip I noticed that there were sprinklers going in all of the flower beds. The wind is blowing 25 miles per hour and the water was running down the driveway. I find that shameful when we are in a drought that is showing no signs of any significant relief.
So, I really had nothing to say. Just lots of observations.
People are desperate to save money, while others can't even be bothered to take advantage of a deal when it is easily within their grasp.
There is a serious drought going on, and I can't help but shake my head at the folks who have maintained immaculately green lawns.
Some are selling clothes on consignment that have never been worn, while just twenty minutes away others have built themselves a little village under the bridge in downtown.
P.S. On a totally unrelated/irreverent note: Every time I type in couponing, blogger spell check suggests coupling...
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
What I Did vs What I Should have Done
I got an unexpected day off today.
I immediately started thinking of all the things I should get done...Especially since I am hoping to pick up a shift tomorrow to make up for today's lost shift.
As soon as I get back home I'm going to:
1. Clean out my closet.
2. Clean my bathrooms.
3. Paint my toes.
The list goes on, but I am too tired to think of much else. After all, as you can guess by the blog title I didn't accomplish anything on my "should have done" list.
I was in the mood to shop. Strange, as I never want to shop. Of course the mood would strike me when I'm short a shift. I decided to make a trip to the local consignment shop where I combed the racks for decent yet cheap clothes. I left with three pairs of jeans, three shirts and a black sparkly dress. All for my kids, of course! And best of all I didn't even spend thirty dollars!
But that's not even the best part! While there I got a great idea for a craft!
Yes, I the official noncrafter saw a craft idea and said, "I can do that!"
Yay me!
After I left there I went to Walmart to purchase a new brush for a certain child who has a bit of a temper. The kind of temper that leads to throwing things. And perhaps breaking them. Apparently the child threw her brush on the ground a few weeks ago when dealing with some particularly nasty tangles and the handle broke off. She has been bumming off of her sister ever since. This morning I realized that this sharing of the hair brush was adding to the rush of trying to get out the door and to the bus in the morning. Originally I had decided she could just suffer and not have a brush, but for obvious reasons that didn't work. By the way: I am certain that no members of my family can relate to the urge to throw something when they are particularly angry.
So, I ran to Walmart and I got a new brush, plus the gift that I had signed up to bring for the local children's home gift drive. While there, I decided to peruse a certain department to see if they had what I needed to make my craft.
And of course they did.
So, I came home and I made a practice version of the craft idea...
Guess who already has her gift idea from the heart idea for the family gift exchange?
Me!
Oh, and for anyone who is confused, my family has a tradition of exchanging homemade gifts at Christmas. I both love and hate it. Love the thought of getting a gift that someone crafted with love. Hate the thought of having to come up with a gift that is not food...Because I could totally do food every single time. But then everyone would always know what to expect from me...
And that would lead to disappointment, and the fervent hope that they don't get Andi's gift. Again.
So. I have an idea for a gift.
And I think it's pretty good.
But I can't even share a hint of it on this blog because my family reads it! I am simply bursting to share my idea!
Seriously? I just succeeded in keeping a secret for an entire month, and now I have to start all over again, and it has to last until Christmas?
I am so in trouble.
I immediately started thinking of all the things I should get done...Especially since I am hoping to pick up a shift tomorrow to make up for today's lost shift.
As soon as I get back home I'm going to:
1. Clean out my closet.
2. Clean my bathrooms.
3. Paint my toes.
The list goes on, but I am too tired to think of much else. After all, as you can guess by the blog title I didn't accomplish anything on my "should have done" list.
I was in the mood to shop. Strange, as I never want to shop. Of course the mood would strike me when I'm short a shift. I decided to make a trip to the local consignment shop where I combed the racks for decent yet cheap clothes. I left with three pairs of jeans, three shirts and a black sparkly dress. All for my kids, of course! And best of all I didn't even spend thirty dollars!
But that's not even the best part! While there I got a great idea for a craft!
Yes, I the official noncrafter saw a craft idea and said, "I can do that!"
Yay me!
After I left there I went to Walmart to purchase a new brush for a certain child who has a bit of a temper. The kind of temper that leads to throwing things. And perhaps breaking them. Apparently the child threw her brush on the ground a few weeks ago when dealing with some particularly nasty tangles and the handle broke off. She has been bumming off of her sister ever since. This morning I realized that this sharing of the hair brush was adding to the rush of trying to get out the door and to the bus in the morning. Originally I had decided she could just suffer and not have a brush, but for obvious reasons that didn't work. By the way: I am certain that no members of my family can relate to the urge to throw something when they are particularly angry.
So, I ran to Walmart and I got a new brush, plus the gift that I had signed up to bring for the local children's home gift drive. While there, I decided to peruse a certain department to see if they had what I needed to make my craft.
And of course they did.
So, I came home and I made a practice version of the craft idea...
Guess who already has her gift idea from the heart idea for the family gift exchange?
Me!
Oh, and for anyone who is confused, my family has a tradition of exchanging homemade gifts at Christmas. I both love and hate it. Love the thought of getting a gift that someone crafted with love. Hate the thought of having to come up with a gift that is not food...Because I could totally do food every single time. But then everyone would always know what to expect from me...
And that would lead to disappointment, and the fervent hope that they don't get Andi's gift. Again.
So. I have an idea for a gift.
And I think it's pretty good.
But I can't even share a hint of it on this blog because my family reads it! I am simply bursting to share my idea!
Seriously? I just succeeded in keeping a secret for an entire month, and now I have to start all over again, and it has to last until Christmas?
I am so in trouble.
Car Conversations...
I laugh.
A LOT
And I laugh LOUD.
I can't help it. My family is really funny.
As we were driving to Tulsa on Saturday we had two hysterical conversations.
"Babe! There is a giant blue gorilla in front of David Stanley Chevrolet! Let's go there and buy a car right now!"
"Sorry. We can't go there until they add a giant inflatable crocodile."
Truly Gentle Reader have you ever in your life bought a car where they have a giant inflatable? And why is it so often a gorilla? I would like to see the statistics on improved car sales directly proportional to giant inflatable gorillas.
We were listening to Bookworm's iTouch. We had it plugged into our car stereo, and it was on random shuffle. Popcorn was singing along to one of the songs from her new Selena Gomez album.
"Do you already know all of the songs?" I asked her.
"I know every word to every song on this CD" she stated proudly.
Not missing a beat, her dad added "And yet your math facts elude you."
A LOT
And I laugh LOUD.
I can't help it. My family is really funny.
As we were driving to Tulsa on Saturday we had two hysterical conversations.
"Babe! There is a giant blue gorilla in front of David Stanley Chevrolet! Let's go there and buy a car right now!"
"Sorry. We can't go there until they add a giant inflatable crocodile."
Truly Gentle Reader have you ever in your life bought a car where they have a giant inflatable? And why is it so often a gorilla? I would like to see the statistics on improved car sales directly proportional to giant inflatable gorillas.
We were listening to Bookworm's iTouch. We had it plugged into our car stereo, and it was on random shuffle. Popcorn was singing along to one of the songs from her new Selena Gomez album.
"Do you already know all of the songs?" I asked her.
"I know every word to every song on this CD" she stated proudly.
Not missing a beat, her dad added "And yet your math facts elude you."
Monday, October 3, 2011
If I Only Had a Brain
I am about to attempt to tell you a work story. It is a story which could be very complicated and difficult to portray if you aren't a part of the medical field. But if you will just suffer through and try to see my sheer idiocy, I think you will appreciate it.
This week we have been taking care of a lady who has been in the icu for over two weeks now. She suffered a hemmorhagic stroke and the neurosurgeon went in to clip the bleed. After surgery she was completely unresponsive. No reflexes noted. Her eyes are open but they jerk around, never really seeing anything. She is on a ventilator, and she initiates breath, but is unable to fully breathe on her own. Her heart is stable. She has a giant tube coming out the top of her head to drain the excess fluid off, and she has a pressure sensor in there to monitor her intracranial pressure (referred to ICP from this point on.) She also has staples across half of her head where they went in to do the surgery on her brain. Her feet and hands are cold and mottled, and her limbs are limp with no muscle tone response noted when you move or reposition her.
This is all very horrific sounding, I know. It is horrific. Especially when you factor in that the patient's family is English as a second language, and they keep thinking she's going to get better. I don't see how she's going to get better after two weeks of no response, but I'm not God and that's not my decision to make. Instead, I just feel terrible for them.
Here's a news flash for you: I hate brains. I love things to do with the heart and cardiovascular system. I get it. I specialized in it right out of school, and while neurologic issues have never been completely unavoidable, since I've been in my current job they have been few and far between. Imagine my joy when I realized on Monday that I was going to have to bring this patient from the intensive care unit to our department and monitor her while the doctor did a cerebral angiogram, which is basically a study of the vessels in her brain. I got a quick and dirty inservice from the patient's nurse about her drains and what they meant, and especially that her ICP must not get above 20, and her drain needed to stay at the level of her ear. If the drain was repositioned during transport and was above her ear, it wouldn't drain. Too far below the ear, and it would drain too fast.
How do I spell stress? B-R-A-I-N.
Monday we did the procedure with no hitches. We injected some medicine directly into her brain that was supposed to improve blood flow to her brain. I was annoyed to learn that we would be bringing her back daily until she gets better.
So we had to bring her back on Tuesday. On Tuesday I went with one of my nurse friends for our department, and we had agreed to tag team her. I was feeling pretty okay with it, as the previous day had gone fine.
Well, of course by the time I moved her to our table and got my monitor hooked up, and the respiratory therapist put her on a portable ventilator, her ICP had climbed to 28. "Well crap." But then as I looked through her chart I realized that it said to notify the doctor if the ICP stayed up more than 10 minutes. So I waited a bit.
Her ICP didn't budge...I lowered the drain...it still didn't budge, nor did it begin to drain. I started to sweat. Profusely. I was so glad I had another nurse assisting me, and our plan was for her to stay with the patient and do basic care, and I would fetch anything she needed, or call the ICU nurse if she had a question, or whatever needed done...
I paged the neurosurgeon, Dr. X. We will call him Dr. X as his last name has no less than 11 letters and like 5 syllables, and even after talking to him like twenty times I am still not sure how to pronounce it.
So, Dr. X calls back. I inform him of her ICP, her blood pressure, her heart rate, her oxygen levels, and I even was able to tell him what her medications were running at. I was mentally patting myself on the back for having facts, even as I felt sweat trickling between my shoulder blades.
"What is her ventriculostomy pressure?"
Now, this doctor has a pretty strong accent. I was pretty sure I'd misheard him. Because it sounded like he said ventriculostomy, and I was pretty sure no such word existed...So, I said, "Excuse me?"
"Ventriculostomy pressure. What is it?"
"I'm sorry. I can understand ventricul something or other, but that is all."
"Ventriculostomy. Ventriculostomy. Ventriculostomy. What is the pressure reading on it?"
Okay. So he DEFINITELY said ventriculostomy. Which I still felt pretty sure was not a real word. "I'm sorry sir, but I'm not sure what you mean by that." I'm pretty sure that instilled all sorts of confidence in my roll as this patient's care giver.
"On the monitor, what does it say her ventriculostomy pressure is?" Okay. He just keeps saying the same thing over and over. Apparently it's real. And he expects me to know what it is, and what to do about it.
Crapola.
"Sir, I'm sorry, but the only pressure reading I have is off of the Camino, and it says her ICP is 28."
"But there is another monitor coming out of her head. Do you see it?"
WHAT????
"No sir. I only see the Camino pressure monitor and her drain. I will call the ICU nurse to come show me what to do."
"Wait a minute. Aren't you a nurse?"
"Yes sir. I'm a nurse, but to be honest I'm a PROCEDURAL nurse, and while I had Scott give me a quick and dirty report on how to care for this patient, he never said the word ventriculostomy to me."
He then informed me that he had ordered her drain clamped, and that the ICP had probably raised due to the stress of moving, and I simply needed to open the ventriculostomy during the procedure and leave it open for one hour after...
There was that darn WORD again.
So I called the ICU nurse. And it turns out that the ventriculostomy is the drain that I was calling a DRAIN. Because that is what the simple folk call a drain for your brain...a drain. He showed me that he had clamped the drain off the day before, so no matter how low I moved the drain, it wasn't going to lower her ICP. Oh did I mention that I all but put that drain on the floor trying to drop her ICP? Did I mention that by this point my scrubs were soaked in sweat under my lead apron? I told my nurse friend that while I felt incredibly stupid, at least I'd probably never have to meet Dr. X face to face.
Well we opened the drain, and low and behold the ICP dropped to the normal range, and we were able to complete our procedure. After we finished up Dr. X, the neurosurgeon showed up...At least I guessed it was him. He was in a doctor's coat, and he was unfamiliar to me. I could totally tell he was looking for me. I decided to take the bull by the horns.
"Hi! Are you Dr. X?" Sound cheerful and nonchalantly confident Andi. Then he will decide that while you may be a ditz at least you're friendly...
"Yes, I am."
"I'm Andi. I was the nurse on the phone with you earlier. I'm so sorry for the misunderstanding earlier. I don't want you to think we don't know what we're doing here. Except I have never dealt with one of these before. So I guess that means I really don't." And I smiled my most winning smile and I gave a little lighthearted chuckle. Could you just shut up? Why must you blabber on when you are nervous? Or happy? Or sad?
"No problem. I'm sorry too. I thought I was speaking with the ICU nurse, so I was wondering how you didn't know what the monitors were for."
I was so relieved that he wasn't angry, and surprisingly nice but still relatively sure he thought I was a nincompoop...I decided fleeing was the smart thing to do in this situation...I gently lead him to our control room where I introduced him to our doctor, and headed back to the intensive care with the patient.
Of course I ran into Dr. X again before I was gone.
Blast it all! Must this man suddenly be everywhere I have to be?
And I began to blush and sweat even more profusely than I already was..."Hi!" I decided to keep up my light and friendly facade. It wouldn't do at all for him to realize I never wanted to see him again.
"Hello. I wanted to apologize about not realizing where you were earlier..." And he proceeded to take me back to the patient bedside and explain that the ventriculostomy pressure was monitored by a bedside monitor in the ICU, so I really could not have told him that reading as the monitor wasn't with me. And he took the time to explain things to me in a much better detail than the nurse had. And I was able to understand him easier face to face.
That made me feel much better.
And a little bit less of an idiot.
However, I still hate brains...
On a more positive note, I found out that as of January first two neuro interventionalists will be coming to work in our department, and that all of us have to go through special training to know how to care for brain injury patients. I can only begin to guess the sort of ego that comes with a person who is willing to work on brains by inserting a catheter into the artery in your groin and working their way to the brain...And I can only guess this will lead to more interaction with Dr. X...
Oh, wait. That is actually TERRIBLE news. Blast it all.
This week we have been taking care of a lady who has been in the icu for over two weeks now. She suffered a hemmorhagic stroke and the neurosurgeon went in to clip the bleed. After surgery she was completely unresponsive. No reflexes noted. Her eyes are open but they jerk around, never really seeing anything. She is on a ventilator, and she initiates breath, but is unable to fully breathe on her own. Her heart is stable. She has a giant tube coming out the top of her head to drain the excess fluid off, and she has a pressure sensor in there to monitor her intracranial pressure (referred to ICP from this point on.) She also has staples across half of her head where they went in to do the surgery on her brain. Her feet and hands are cold and mottled, and her limbs are limp with no muscle tone response noted when you move or reposition her.
This is all very horrific sounding, I know. It is horrific. Especially when you factor in that the patient's family is English as a second language, and they keep thinking she's going to get better. I don't see how she's going to get better after two weeks of no response, but I'm not God and that's not my decision to make. Instead, I just feel terrible for them.
Here's a news flash for you: I hate brains. I love things to do with the heart and cardiovascular system. I get it. I specialized in it right out of school, and while neurologic issues have never been completely unavoidable, since I've been in my current job they have been few and far between. Imagine my joy when I realized on Monday that I was going to have to bring this patient from the intensive care unit to our department and monitor her while the doctor did a cerebral angiogram, which is basically a study of the vessels in her brain. I got a quick and dirty inservice from the patient's nurse about her drains and what they meant, and especially that her ICP must not get above 20, and her drain needed to stay at the level of her ear. If the drain was repositioned during transport and was above her ear, it wouldn't drain. Too far below the ear, and it would drain too fast.
How do I spell stress? B-R-A-I-N.
Monday we did the procedure with no hitches. We injected some medicine directly into her brain that was supposed to improve blood flow to her brain. I was annoyed to learn that we would be bringing her back daily until she gets better.
So we had to bring her back on Tuesday. On Tuesday I went with one of my nurse friends for our department, and we had agreed to tag team her. I was feeling pretty okay with it, as the previous day had gone fine.
Well, of course by the time I moved her to our table and got my monitor hooked up, and the respiratory therapist put her on a portable ventilator, her ICP had climbed to 28. "Well crap." But then as I looked through her chart I realized that it said to notify the doctor if the ICP stayed up more than 10 minutes. So I waited a bit.
Her ICP didn't budge...I lowered the drain...it still didn't budge, nor did it begin to drain. I started to sweat. Profusely. I was so glad I had another nurse assisting me, and our plan was for her to stay with the patient and do basic care, and I would fetch anything she needed, or call the ICU nurse if she had a question, or whatever needed done...
I paged the neurosurgeon, Dr. X. We will call him Dr. X as his last name has no less than 11 letters and like 5 syllables, and even after talking to him like twenty times I am still not sure how to pronounce it.
So, Dr. X calls back. I inform him of her ICP, her blood pressure, her heart rate, her oxygen levels, and I even was able to tell him what her medications were running at. I was mentally patting myself on the back for having facts, even as I felt sweat trickling between my shoulder blades.
"What is her ventriculostomy pressure?"
Now, this doctor has a pretty strong accent. I was pretty sure I'd misheard him. Because it sounded like he said ventriculostomy, and I was pretty sure no such word existed...So, I said, "Excuse me?"
"Ventriculostomy pressure. What is it?"
"I'm sorry. I can understand ventricul something or other, but that is all."
"Ventriculostomy. Ventriculostomy. Ventriculostomy. What is the pressure reading on it?"
Okay. So he DEFINITELY said ventriculostomy. Which I still felt pretty sure was not a real word. "I'm sorry sir, but I'm not sure what you mean by that." I'm pretty sure that instilled all sorts of confidence in my roll as this patient's care giver.
"On the monitor, what does it say her ventriculostomy pressure is?" Okay. He just keeps saying the same thing over and over. Apparently it's real. And he expects me to know what it is, and what to do about it.
Crapola.
"Sir, I'm sorry, but the only pressure reading I have is off of the Camino, and it says her ICP is 28."
"But there is another monitor coming out of her head. Do you see it?"
WHAT????
"No sir. I only see the Camino pressure monitor and her drain. I will call the ICU nurse to come show me what to do."
"Wait a minute. Aren't you a nurse?"
"Yes sir. I'm a nurse, but to be honest I'm a PROCEDURAL nurse, and while I had Scott give me a quick and dirty report on how to care for this patient, he never said the word ventriculostomy to me."
He then informed me that he had ordered her drain clamped, and that the ICP had probably raised due to the stress of moving, and I simply needed to open the ventriculostomy during the procedure and leave it open for one hour after...
There was that darn WORD again.
So I called the ICU nurse. And it turns out that the ventriculostomy is the drain that I was calling a DRAIN. Because that is what the simple folk call a drain for your brain...a drain. He showed me that he had clamped the drain off the day before, so no matter how low I moved the drain, it wasn't going to lower her ICP. Oh did I mention that I all but put that drain on the floor trying to drop her ICP? Did I mention that by this point my scrubs were soaked in sweat under my lead apron? I told my nurse friend that while I felt incredibly stupid, at least I'd probably never have to meet Dr. X face to face.
Well we opened the drain, and low and behold the ICP dropped to the normal range, and we were able to complete our procedure. After we finished up Dr. X, the neurosurgeon showed up...At least I guessed it was him. He was in a doctor's coat, and he was unfamiliar to me. I could totally tell he was looking for me. I decided to take the bull by the horns.
"Hi! Are you Dr. X?" Sound cheerful and nonchalantly confident Andi. Then he will decide that while you may be a ditz at least you're friendly...
"Yes, I am."
"I'm Andi. I was the nurse on the phone with you earlier. I'm so sorry for the misunderstanding earlier. I don't want you to think we don't know what we're doing here. Except I have never dealt with one of these before. So I guess that means I really don't." And I smiled my most winning smile and I gave a little lighthearted chuckle. Could you just shut up? Why must you blabber on when you are nervous? Or happy? Or sad?
"No problem. I'm sorry too. I thought I was speaking with the ICU nurse, so I was wondering how you didn't know what the monitors were for."
I was so relieved that he wasn't angry, and surprisingly nice but still relatively sure he thought I was a nincompoop...I decided fleeing was the smart thing to do in this situation...I gently lead him to our control room where I introduced him to our doctor, and headed back to the intensive care with the patient.
Of course I ran into Dr. X again before I was gone.
Blast it all! Must this man suddenly be everywhere I have to be?
And I began to blush and sweat even more profusely than I already was..."Hi!" I decided to keep up my light and friendly facade. It wouldn't do at all for him to realize I never wanted to see him again.
"Hello. I wanted to apologize about not realizing where you were earlier..." And he proceeded to take me back to the patient bedside and explain that the ventriculostomy pressure was monitored by a bedside monitor in the ICU, so I really could not have told him that reading as the monitor wasn't with me. And he took the time to explain things to me in a much better detail than the nurse had. And I was able to understand him easier face to face.
That made me feel much better.
And a little bit less of an idiot.
However, I still hate brains...
On a more positive note, I found out that as of January first two neuro interventionalists will be coming to work in our department, and that all of us have to go through special training to know how to care for brain injury patients. I can only begin to guess the sort of ego that comes with a person who is willing to work on brains by inserting a catheter into the artery in your groin and working their way to the brain...And I can only guess this will lead to more interaction with Dr. X...
Oh, wait. That is actually TERRIBLE news. Blast it all.
Sunday, October 2, 2011
So I Needed a Quick Recipe for Eggless Muffins.
Tomorrow we have an old/new doctor coming. Old because he was at our hospital before...New because now he's working there full time so we won't be sharing doctors with 3 other hospitals...
So, as a "Welcome to Saints" gesture my supervisor and I discussed bagels and fruit. And coffee. He is a coffee freak, much like me only he consumes way more than I do. And he is a vegetarian, so that limited what we were bringing.
I had been thinking about this fact (the food issue) off and on all weekend. Not enough to actually DO something about it, but still it was in my brain, bubbling to my attention once in a while, but I would swat it back down and cuddle the puppy. Or take a two hour nap. Or spend three hours getting groceries. For the record, other than several gallons of milk I had not bought one grocery item in 15 days. We were a little low on a few things...
And completely out of some things like conditioner, soap, lotion, and deodorant for myself. So, considering I didn't want to be a smelly frizzy haired person (more so than usual, that is) I decided to drag myself to Walmart and Crest on Saturday evening. I had not planned enough to coupon like normal, so there are no tales of glory for me to share with you today.
Anyhoo, back to subject matter: I was helping at children's choir Sunday evening, and my supervisor sent me a text that she was going to Panera to buy bagels and should she buy a fruit tray...Well, my sixth sense of frugality jumped to the fore and I texted her right back that I would make blueberry muffins (I had bought a big batch of fresh blueberries from the reduced for quick sale bin) and she could bring some fruit...
Then I got home and remembered the whole vegetarian thing. I texted to ask about eggs. I knew he drank milk and ate cheese, but was uncertain of the egg status. Of course he doesn't eat eggs. And while I was tempted to say "Oops, sorry you made a bad decision to not eat meat, even though you wear leather shoes" I decided that was not the nicest decision. So I googled "eggless muffin recipes" and "how to substitute for eggs in baking." I perused several recipes, and settled on the two I'm about to share, with some alterations. I am giving you the altered recipe of course.
I think they are both going to turn out well. They are lovely in their pans. I was a tad concerned that the muffins call for no salt, but the batter tasted great, so I hope the muffins do too!
So, as a "Welcome to Saints" gesture my supervisor and I discussed bagels and fruit. And coffee. He is a coffee freak, much like me only he consumes way more than I do. And he is a vegetarian, so that limited what we were bringing.
I had been thinking about this fact (the food issue) off and on all weekend. Not enough to actually DO something about it, but still it was in my brain, bubbling to my attention once in a while, but I would swat it back down and cuddle the puppy. Or take a two hour nap. Or spend three hours getting groceries. For the record, other than several gallons of milk I had not bought one grocery item in 15 days. We were a little low on a few things...
And completely out of some things like conditioner, soap, lotion, and deodorant for myself. So, considering I didn't want to be a smelly frizzy haired person (more so than usual, that is) I decided to drag myself to Walmart and Crest on Saturday evening. I had not planned enough to coupon like normal, so there are no tales of glory for me to share with you today.
Anyhoo, back to subject matter: I was helping at children's choir Sunday evening, and my supervisor sent me a text that she was going to Panera to buy bagels and should she buy a fruit tray...Well, my sixth sense of frugality jumped to the fore and I texted her right back that I would make blueberry muffins (I had bought a big batch of fresh blueberries from the reduced for quick sale bin) and she could bring some fruit...
Then I got home and remembered the whole vegetarian thing. I texted to ask about eggs. I knew he drank milk and ate cheese, but was uncertain of the egg status. Of course he doesn't eat eggs. And while I was tempted to say "Oops, sorry you made a bad decision to not eat meat, even though you wear leather shoes" I decided that was not the nicest decision. So I googled "eggless muffin recipes" and "how to substitute for eggs in baking." I perused several recipes, and settled on the two I'm about to share, with some alterations. I am giving you the altered recipe of course.
I think they are both going to turn out well. They are lovely in their pans. I was a tad concerned that the muffins call for no salt, but the batter tasted great, so I hope the muffins do too!
Eggless Blueberry Muffins
Ingredients:
- 2 cups all-purpose flour ( I’ve been trying to use more whole wheat flour so I use 1 cup whole wheat flour and 1 cup regular)
- 1 cup sugar, plus 2 tsp. more
- 4 tsp. baking powder
- 1 cup milk
- 3 Tbs. melted butter
- 1 cup fresh blueberries
Heat oven to 350. Line 12 muffin cups with paper liners. Combine flour, sugar and baking powder in a medium-size bowl. Stir in milk by hand and melted butter. Fold in blueberries. Fill each cup 2/3 full. Bake at 350 for 25 minutes.
Eggless Blueberry Coffee Cake
INGREDIENTS:
- All Purpose Flour - 1 cup
- Baking Powder - 1/2 tsp
- Baking Soda - 1/2 tsp
- Salt - 1/8 tsp
- Unsalted Butter - 3 tbsp
- Sugar - 1/4 cup + 1/8 cup
- Mashed Ripe Banana - 1/4 cup
- Vanilla Extract - 3/4 tsp
- Milk 2% - 1/2 cup
- Vinegar - 1/2 tsp
- Fresh Blueberries - 1/2 cup
TOPPING:
- Brown Sugar - 2 tbsp
- Cinnamon - 1/2 tsp
- Pecans - 1/4 cup
DIRECTIONS:
1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease a square pan.
2. In a bowl combine all the dry ingredients... flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.
3. In a small bowl combine the topping ingredients... brown sugar, cinnamon, and pecans.
4. If you do not have buttermilk on hand, then combine the milk and vinegar and set aside for 5 minutes. This is a substitute for buttermilk.
5. In a large bowl, cream the butter and sugar until well blended.
6. Add the bananas and vanilla extract and blend.
7. Add the dry ingredients and milk to the butter/sugar mixture in 3 parts, starting with the dry and ending with the dry. DO NOT OVERMIX!
8. Fold in the blueberries.
9. Pour the batter into the baking dish.
10. Top with the cinnamon-pecan topping.
11. Bake for 25-30 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean. I baked these 25 minutes exactly.
12. Cool before cutting into squares. Be careful, this cake is extremely soft.
So there you have it. Tomorrow I'm on call, and I plan to make Brent a fabulous cheese cake. I bake him one every year for his birthday. I'm sort of kicking myself for that two hour nap when I could have been working on his cake. A cheese cake is not something you can assemble and have completed in an hour like I did the two above recipes...
Oh well. Who needs sleep? It's not like we're getting much anyway considering somebody's puppy is awake every two hours to go potty!
P.S. It is now Monday morning. I had made a few extra muffins for the girls. They are good, but I find them a little sweet. I will let you know about the coffee cake tonight.
P.S. It is now Monday morning. I had made a few extra muffins for the girls. They are good, but I find them a little sweet. I will let you know about the coffee cake tonight.
Saturday, October 1, 2011
CLEARLY We Do Not Have Enough To Do
Studmuffin's birthday is the 4th.
He is hard to buy a present for.
He is hard to surprise.
Oh, and here's another news flash for you: There is approximately 1/8th of a nanosecond before my thoughts come vomiting out of my mouth.
Clearly it is a mystery why I can never surprise the man...
So this year I did the unthinkable. The unatainable. The unBELIEVABLE!!!
It all began about two months ago. He had began speaking in earnest about getting another Brittany. Instead of having a panic attack which was my first instinct, I got onto this new fangled invention known as the internet.
And I did some research. Then I emailed him links such as this one: Brittany Spaniels.
And then I emailed a link such as this one: German Short Hair Pointers. Because this was his second choice of dog.
And while I truly loved Holly, our previous Brittany, we simply could not keep up with walking her eight miles a day, and neither could we realistically be with her all but a few hours a day, which is what I kept finding as recommendations for keeping this breed of dog calm...Basically the opposite of her. Oh, she was the perfect dog when we were home. It was when we were off to work that she ate the wiring to the air conditioner. Three times. And it was while we were at work that she chewed up the stairs to the pool. And it was while we were at work that she chewed a hunk out of her giant rubber indestructable dog bowl. And it was while we were at work that she decided to dig under the fence and eat the pool filter...
So. Holly no longer lives with us. She has been gone over a year now.
And Studmuffin and the girls were scaring the living daylights out of me by earnestly searching for a new Brittany puppy.
I stated quite emphatically: Do NOT bring home a puppy without me first approving it.
And then I did more research. His goal in obtaining a dog is that he wants a hunting companion. Since I lost three birds the last time I went hunting with him, I could not even use the excuse that I would bird dog for him...I decided to do research on dogs that were bred for hunting, and decided that we needed either a lab or a golden.
Then one night he said, "I do NOT want a black lab. Everyone has a black lab."
So. That narrowed my search.
And then I learned something else. Golden Retrievers are not as easy to find as a labrador. At last I found some Golden puppies that were available October first. Bingo! The girls and I schemed that we would pretend to go birthday shopping on the first, when in fact we were going to have to drive to Tulsa to meet the breeder who was flying out puppies that day.
And my children kept the secret for three whole weeks. Seriously! They did not breathe a word.
Of course, my husband did the unthinkable and one day last week he said, "Hey, the weekend of the first is the OU vs Ball State game. They will cream Ball State, so the tickets are cheap. I thought we could take the girls to a game finally."
Of course I panicked and was completely unable to come up with any reason why we couldn't go, other than, "Umm. I think I may have plans that weekend." And then the girls started chiming in that it was indeed impossible for us to go to a game that particular day.
And Studmuffin tried to manipulate us into telling him by pretending to have his feelings hurt that we were all keeping secrets from him...
But we stood firm.
And at some point he decided that I was surprising him with new sofas...
Because that would clearly require a two hour drive one way to pick up. And there is obviously no way I could get a new sofa within a 120 mile radius of our house...And obviously every man wants new sofas for his birthday.
So, at 6:30 am this morning we began our drive to Tulsa. And he nagged and tried to guess all the way there what we were doing. I had asked him to throw in tie downs for his pickup. And he grabbed a wrench and tossed both hitch balls in too as a precaution since he had stated "You realize that my pickup bed will only hold one sofa." To which I replied, "Your pickup has a hitch."
And none of that was a lie...
So we drive drive drive, and when we finally got to Tulsa I said, "Hey I saw a sign back there for a Quik Trip off of Exit 222. Just pull off of there, and I will take a quick bathroom break, then I will take over driving."
Now, I had planned to meet Dan, the breeder at the QT. He had said he would be there between 8:00 and 8:30, but he would take a nap while he waited. He didn't want to worry about me hurrying and getting into an accident. He said he would be in a Suburban on the west side, and he would be napping...
I had planned to pretend to go into the bathroom, then when my husband went in I would go back out, grab the dog and pay for her, then promptly return to the pickup...Only Dan wasn't there. I went into the bathroom and texted him. He had been fooling around at the airport because he figured there was no way I would arrive before 9. He was exiting as he replied. I saw a suburban with a definitely friendly face pull up, and handed my husband all of the drinks and headed out the door...
I practically ran to the Suburban. I threw the cash in his face, and tried to nonchalantly tell him to shut up the chitter chatter and just give me the bloody dog so I can surprise my husband...
Unfortunately the I don't want to be rude but shut up and hurry up scheme didn't work...And the girls and their dad came strolling out of the QT just as I was scooping up our new little bundle of joy.
But he was definitely surprised!
So, here she is. Our brand new puppy, Chesney.
I took these photos with my phone and didn't realize that the girls had set it on a weird setting. I have no idea what that color is about.
However, I think you can still tell that she is adorable.
Studmuffin decided on Chesney because she is a dark color for a golden. Which is why I picked her. The breeder had photos of the litter online, and I picked the one with the darkest coat. Studmuffin decided she is almost a chesnut color...
Ain't she sweet? Remind me of how sweet I think she is when I am ranting about all the stuff she has chewed up.
I will end with a few picks that I snapped the first few minutes we had her home with us.
Oliver: What on earth is THAT thing?
Chesney: Why hello giant fluffy creature? Can I lick your face?
And Oliver promptly smacked her three times across the face. Which I did not catch on camera. But one can for sure say this: Chesney may NOT lick Oliver's face.
She was playing with a ball here. I am a terrible photographer, and I missed it. Also, I'm impatient, and too busy watching life in real time to think to snap it with a camera.
Her new collar is itching her neck terribly. She kept having to stop her wrestling with Kelsey to scratch her neck.
Chesney wants to play. Kelsey wants to sniff her bottom for about four solid hours. Or days. However long it takes for her to decide whatever decision bottom sniffing leads to.
And that is all the photos I have for you for now. Next time perhaps I will move off of my bench on the cool shady porch and take some real photos.
But I can't make any promises.
Oh, and the reason we needed my husband's pickup was that I had bought a Great Dane kennel from a friend at work. Since we have a fence up, but it isn't completely done, I was afraid there may be a few places that weren't puppy proof. As it turns out, I think she can only sneak out at the curves of the gate, and that should only last a few weeks. But regardless now we have a nice wire kennel to put her in should the need arise!
And one last note: The kittens (which look less and less like kittens every day) are hiding from Chesney. They need to take a page from Oliver's book and smack her around now, or they will have two dogs chasing them up the tree instead of just one.
He is hard to buy a present for.
He is hard to surprise.
Oh, and here's another news flash for you: There is approximately 1/8th of a nanosecond before my thoughts come vomiting out of my mouth.
Clearly it is a mystery why I can never surprise the man...
So this year I did the unthinkable. The unatainable. The unBELIEVABLE!!!
It all began about two months ago. He had began speaking in earnest about getting another Brittany. Instead of having a panic attack which was my first instinct, I got onto this new fangled invention known as the internet.
And I did some research. Then I emailed him links such as this one: Brittany Spaniels.
And then I emailed a link such as this one: German Short Hair Pointers. Because this was his second choice of dog.
And while I truly loved Holly, our previous Brittany, we simply could not keep up with walking her eight miles a day, and neither could we realistically be with her all but a few hours a day, which is what I kept finding as recommendations for keeping this breed of dog calm...Basically the opposite of her. Oh, she was the perfect dog when we were home. It was when we were off to work that she ate the wiring to the air conditioner. Three times. And it was while we were at work that she chewed up the stairs to the pool. And it was while we were at work that she chewed a hunk out of her giant rubber indestructable dog bowl. And it was while we were at work that she decided to dig under the fence and eat the pool filter...
So. Holly no longer lives with us. She has been gone over a year now.
And Studmuffin and the girls were scaring the living daylights out of me by earnestly searching for a new Brittany puppy.
I stated quite emphatically: Do NOT bring home a puppy without me first approving it.
And then I did more research. His goal in obtaining a dog is that he wants a hunting companion. Since I lost three birds the last time I went hunting with him, I could not even use the excuse that I would bird dog for him...I decided to do research on dogs that were bred for hunting, and decided that we needed either a lab or a golden.
Then one night he said, "I do NOT want a black lab. Everyone has a black lab."
So. That narrowed my search.
And then I learned something else. Golden Retrievers are not as easy to find as a labrador. At last I found some Golden puppies that were available October first. Bingo! The girls and I schemed that we would pretend to go birthday shopping on the first, when in fact we were going to have to drive to Tulsa to meet the breeder who was flying out puppies that day.
And my children kept the secret for three whole weeks. Seriously! They did not breathe a word.
Of course, my husband did the unthinkable and one day last week he said, "Hey, the weekend of the first is the OU vs Ball State game. They will cream Ball State, so the tickets are cheap. I thought we could take the girls to a game finally."
Of course I panicked and was completely unable to come up with any reason why we couldn't go, other than, "Umm. I think I may have plans that weekend." And then the girls started chiming in that it was indeed impossible for us to go to a game that particular day.
And Studmuffin tried to manipulate us into telling him by pretending to have his feelings hurt that we were all keeping secrets from him...
But we stood firm.
And at some point he decided that I was surprising him with new sofas...
Because that would clearly require a two hour drive one way to pick up. And there is obviously no way I could get a new sofa within a 120 mile radius of our house...And obviously every man wants new sofas for his birthday.
So, at 6:30 am this morning we began our drive to Tulsa. And he nagged and tried to guess all the way there what we were doing. I had asked him to throw in tie downs for his pickup. And he grabbed a wrench and tossed both hitch balls in too as a precaution since he had stated "You realize that my pickup bed will only hold one sofa." To which I replied, "Your pickup has a hitch."
And none of that was a lie...
So we drive drive drive, and when we finally got to Tulsa I said, "Hey I saw a sign back there for a Quik Trip off of Exit 222. Just pull off of there, and I will take a quick bathroom break, then I will take over driving."
Now, I had planned to meet Dan, the breeder at the QT. He had said he would be there between 8:00 and 8:30, but he would take a nap while he waited. He didn't want to worry about me hurrying and getting into an accident. He said he would be in a Suburban on the west side, and he would be napping...
I had planned to pretend to go into the bathroom, then when my husband went in I would go back out, grab the dog and pay for her, then promptly return to the pickup...Only Dan wasn't there. I went into the bathroom and texted him. He had been fooling around at the airport because he figured there was no way I would arrive before 9. He was exiting as he replied. I saw a suburban with a definitely friendly face pull up, and handed my husband all of the drinks and headed out the door...
I practically ran to the Suburban. I threw the cash in his face, and tried to nonchalantly tell him to shut up the chitter chatter and just give me the bloody dog so I can surprise my husband...
Unfortunately the I don't want to be rude but shut up and hurry up scheme didn't work...And the girls and their dad came strolling out of the QT just as I was scooping up our new little bundle of joy.
But he was definitely surprised!
So, here she is. Our brand new puppy, Chesney.
I took these photos with my phone and didn't realize that the girls had set it on a weird setting. I have no idea what that color is about.
However, I think you can still tell that she is adorable.
Studmuffin decided on Chesney because she is a dark color for a golden. Which is why I picked her. The breeder had photos of the litter online, and I picked the one with the darkest coat. Studmuffin decided she is almost a chesnut color...
Ain't she sweet? Remind me of how sweet I think she is when I am ranting about all the stuff she has chewed up.
I will end with a few picks that I snapped the first few minutes we had her home with us.
And Oliver promptly smacked her three times across the face. Which I did not catch on camera. But one can for sure say this: Chesney may NOT lick Oliver's face.
She was playing with a ball here. I am a terrible photographer, and I missed it. Also, I'm impatient, and too busy watching life in real time to think to snap it with a camera.
Her new collar is itching her neck terribly. She kept having to stop her wrestling with Kelsey to scratch her neck.
Chesney wants to play. Kelsey wants to sniff her bottom for about four solid hours. Or days. However long it takes for her to decide whatever decision bottom sniffing leads to.
And that is all the photos I have for you for now. Next time perhaps I will move off of my bench on the cool shady porch and take some real photos.
But I can't make any promises.
Oh, and the reason we needed my husband's pickup was that I had bought a Great Dane kennel from a friend at work. Since we have a fence up, but it isn't completely done, I was afraid there may be a few places that weren't puppy proof. As it turns out, I think she can only sneak out at the curves of the gate, and that should only last a few weeks. But regardless now we have a nice wire kennel to put her in should the need arise!
And one last note: The kittens (which look less and less like kittens every day) are hiding from Chesney. They need to take a page from Oliver's book and smack her around now, or they will have two dogs chasing them up the tree instead of just one.
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