Emergency!

It was a very busy day on the Pediatric unit. My favorite time of the shift is when I get to take a deep breath and play a little or do a craft with my patients.


Kyle was 5 years old. Day 2 of his hospital stay. His mom comes out and tells me she has to go home for a few hours and Kyle will be on his own. I'm a little disappointed by this news because Kyle is already bored and clinging to mom and I am the only nurse on the unit to distract him.
As soon as mom leaves, Kyle hits the nurse call light. I go in to him and he says, "I was just checkin' to see if this works." Ok. Good.


1 minute later the light goes off again. "I'm lonely". I can't stay by his bedside but I show him I am right outside his door and put the movie of his choice on.
5 minutes later- "I'm bored". Crayons and paper supplied.
1 minute later, 2 minutes later; you get the picture. I tell Kyle that I understand he is bored and lonely without mom. Hard to leave his precious smile behind but he is nodding that he gets it.
 I tell him, "The call light is for emergencies only now. I will be in to see you every few minutes. Do you understand? "   He's nodding yes.


"DOCTOR! DOCTOR!"  Smile to myself because now I have been promoted to doctor status and he knows very well that I am his nurse Lori and part-time playmate. I take Kyle snack, fluff his pillows and ask him if he is having an emergency. Does he know what an emergency is? He nods and tells me  "I missed you. " Quite the charmer already. Again, I am so busy and remind Kyle the call light is for EMERGENCIES and I will be back in a few minutes. I switch out the movie to both of our favorite- TOY Story. Tell Kyle to keep track of what 's happening so he can tell me what I missed when I get back. Another snack. He seems happy.


Seconds later, shrieking and screaming my name along with the call light. "HELP! LORI! HURRY HURRY!" He is panicked. I run in because the screaming is heartfelt and real . I check him head to toe visually as I run in the room .


 He is wide eyed. "Lori!!! I'm an EMERGENCY!!!"
"Kyle! What's wrong?!"
Kyle- "My popcicle fell down my shirt and its freezing me!"
I am laughing. "Yes Kyle. That IS an emergency!" 

Surviving the DMV

I have survived the DMV. (Department of Motor Vehicles.)

Known for its rude employees and obnoxiously long lines in this So. Cal. area, I dreaded the trek there to replace my stolen drivers license. It's recommended to make an appointment, but the first available was five weeks away! The lines at the Norco DMV are well known to wrap around the building, and that's just the line to get a number. I started asking around for the best strategies to reduce the wait times, which, after reading YELP, were hitting 3 to 4 hours. Frustrating and a chunk of life you'll never get back.

The day started at the doctors office where I was being worked in to a already full schedule. Mentally prepared for a long wait but surprised that I was taken in early and out of there in under 30 minutes. Feeling lucky, and near the DMV, I thought I might chance it and did a drive-by to see how long that line was or if there was even a parking space in the spacious lot. Only 20 people in line outside so I decided this was my day.

We're all followers and tend to get in line where ever there is one which is what I did. Nobody to tell me for sure what the line was for but after 15 minutes, it was obvious it was the line to get inside the building to get in line for the number to be helped. Surprisingly, it was just another 15 minutes to secure that number and form to fill out. Then I was directed to another line, an off shoot of the  appointment line. This DMV employee was not so nice, and had attitude but I was determined to smile and nod. She took my form, asked me why I had filled it out for a House car license and a regular license? I plead ignorance that I didn't know what a House car was, but I drove a car and lived in a house so I checked that one too. She started laughing and said she had no idea what a House car was either, and neither did her co-worker. Got my number- sadly #103 of non appointments.

 A nice man had been following me around the place going line to line and sat next to me. We compared numbers. His was 93. In 5 minutes, his number was called and my hopes sored, thinking this is a good day and I will soon be out of there .

An hour later, I am calling friends and family to let them know where my  skeletal remains could be found if they were looking for me. Hunger pangs set in and I had eaten my last mint. The baby next to me had a box of Cheerios which was looking pretty darn sweet . The people are calm. No one is really talking. It's relatively quiet for having hundreds of people sitting about . Lot's of quirky folk and strange wardrobe choices. A pair of middle aged twins dressed in purple with red hair and all exposed skin covered in body art were pretty entertaining and I wanted to ask them why the tattoo of lipstick kisses on their cheeks and throats? And why would you pierce the back of your neck? That just seems uncomfortable. Do they sleep with those studs in?

It's 3 o'clock. Why didn't I eat lunch beforehand? My stomach was growling as loudly as the cowboy snoring behind me.  The place closes at 5 so worse case scenario is I  only have 2 more hours.

My number is paged, I leapt up and secured the temporary license. Time investment.....1 hour 50 minutes.

Running out of the place, I did pause and look around for a ribbon or sticker, a confetti parade,  as some sort of reward for keeping calm and quiet . I feel very lucky to get out of there under 2 hours. Hope I don't have to go back, but if I do, I'm bringing a picnic basket and a better book to read!

where are the crime-stoppers???

I am a victim of  crime here on Greengate. The indignation to have my safety bubble invaded in such a manner is beyond description.

My neighborhood appears idyllic, but assuredly it is not with the number of drug " distribution centers" on this block alone and many a person cruising afoot who look pretty disreputable or  in need of an emergent appointment with a makeover consultant. I don't want to say that I am  "profiling" any particular group or persons, but it seems a reasonable deduction. At the least, the fashion police should be handing out citations just for how they wear their pants or lack of some significant clothing.

Yes, my car was left unattended and unlocked but still, it was in my driveway and that isn't an invitation to riffle through it and take whatever you want- but thanks for leaving the Ray Bans and keys to the trailer.

I have a couple of friends who have also experienced the bitter end of robbery this week. (Sorry Mr. Pitcock for your loss although your thieves obviously wanted to party and hoping you have replenished your bar ware).

I am convinced there is a crime wave in this city. Police action? Doubt it. I filed my report and that's it. Video and finger prints ain't  gonna cut it for this towns police department. If I found the perpetrator and gift wrapped him or her with photos of the crime surrounding them and my personal property in their pockets, there STILL wouldn't be an arrest!

Neighbors down the street called to tell me they had found some of my belongings. I took a walk down the block following the trail of pennies and various wallet contents like a scavenger hunt. Thank goodness the thief tossed away my yogurt card with its one punch from 2009, the LifeWay Book store coupon and a Kohl's discount card worth zero. I did retrieve my SAMS club card. A relief to know they won't gain entry there under false identity- THAT'S a  private club! Wouldn't want to be shopping with any criminals there. My quick trip down the block took over two hours. Along the way I got a chance to greet several friends in the neighborhood and catch up on what's up on West Greengate. One even asked why I was walking on their side of the street because its not my territory. That's okay . You can keep it. From what you've told me its just a mirror image of my end. I think we have competing dealers but you have the screaming crack head and I have the pit bulls and constant traffic. Not sure if that's an even or win for either of us.

I guess  worse things can happen to a person. I've tried to pray forgiveness toward the criminal but finding it tough right now. My devil side wishes their fingers would blacken and fall off. I certainly don't wish them death or suffering, only justice and permanent maiming.

So Gloria, Nancy, Irma, Julie and Rick- It was nice seeing you. I'll make it a point to travel down your way a little more often and catch up and hopefully it won't be in search of any more of my lost junk which apparently it is since it didn't even make it off the block; BUT, if you DO find some of my junk, I still want it back !

Checking for sticky fingers on everyone walking by the house now.

Sea Hunt

I am enjoying a day at the sea shore of Corona Del Mar. This is a calm, family friendly beach where the children play along the shore and in the tide pools. There are always a few swimmers along the buoy line past the wave breaks. No surf boards are allowed here, and if you are using the 2-3 foot waves for that, you are in for a bad day of hanging ten. It is such a lovely day and I have waded into the ocean up to my thighs and brace for the short waves so I don't fall over.

Pseudo surfer dad struts into the water beside me. He is wearing top of the line surfing gear, fins, rash guard with well known surfing logo on it and dragging along his boogie board.
I'm no surf pro but I felt that the 2 foot wave wasn't a ride, even on a boogie board. You just jump over it.  The man obviously is ready to show his prowess in the water strutting into the breaks with confidence and I am interested to see his performance.

He gets about 20 yards out in hopes of catching "the big one"  and realizes he is still wearing his Oakley sun glasses. Yes, he let us know the brand.  Shouting  to his daughter, who happens to be standing by me, he yells, "Virginia, hold my Oakleys while I surf", then flings the glasses through the air. The glasses never even got within catch distance, landing about 5 feet in front of him and a good 10 yards away from Virginia and me and immediately disappear under the wave and sink. Now surfer dad is mad! Yelling in a tantrum, "Why didn't you catch them! Those were my new Oakleys!  Find them!"

Poor Virginia, all of 10 or 11 years, starts swishing around the ocean and bringing up hands full of sand. Daddy-O is by her side, has abandoned his boogie board  and so red faced furious that his Oakleys are not showing up in Virginia's hands. He spends the next few minutes diving under wave after wave, looking for them and making his daughter and now his son do the same, and I spend it watching him fist punch the water with both hands and cussing a stream of words no one should hear.

He gives it up and sees me musing at him while standing in the little waves,  and walks over to me saying, "Did you see where my Oakley sun glasses went?", to which I gladly reply, and point  toward the horizon,  "Yes!. I saw them sink over there....in the water....where you threw them!"

Idiot..........................

Mr. Man becomes a senior

At the last stroke of midnight on May24, the celebration of Mr. Man's natal day will begin. Each year it is anticipated with grand expectations and fanfare. As it approaches, I begin to feel the pressure about what to do about this misters birthday. He doesn't want a party, he doesn't want a cake, but he DOES want a pile of presents, with wrappings and trim. The little boy has never left him when it comes to birthdays. I swear, if Sheriff John were still alive, I would hire him to come and sing "Put another candle on your birthday cake" every single year! I've got to dig out the cap guns and holsters so we can run circles around the house playing cops and robbers. There will be games of some sort.

So what do you do for the man who has every thing, wants for nothing and desires gifts that only the Trumps or Hiltons hand out as party favors?  I'm rushing to figure it all out- on the fly- and hoping it's good enough and not too disappointing...because I think what he really, really, really  wants is a huge T-bone steak dinner with Paul Simon, on a yacht, during a cruise to a private Greecian island where Gordon Lightfoot waits for him with cocktails and  performs a personalized rendition of the "Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald".

Even better would be a ride as co-pilot in his Sea Monkeys aircraft, landing on some aircraft carrier and getting a tour of the decks and bridge.  (Oh yeah, we've already done that....4 times!)

As I plan and ponder the perfect day, I do wish my Mr. Man the happiest of birthdays. He join's many of as a recognized senior citizen this year, and I've got to admit, he's rockin' those double 5's pretty darn fit and fine.  It is unbelievable I met him at the tender age of 14 and have watched him mature into the man he is today. (or was he molded and coaxed along by the adoring wife?)
If its your birthday today, let it be merry, do a birthday jiggle, and I hope cake and ice cream make an appearance in your honor.

Happy Birthday Christopher.

Bye bye , perfect slice of the pie

We just had to fulfill our craving for the best lasagna in all the land at Cortina's family deli in Anaheim, California. I experienced this delight at lunch with friends a few weeks ago and  it was love after the first bite!

We journeyed to Anaheim , just to get a chunk of the layered perfection. It's always so hard to choose what to order there. The couple next to us got a large combo pizza and then I was doubly envious of that because this deli is also known for its exceptional pizza pie!                             



We lingered over our food, tasting each delectable bite. It's tough to get a table  because the deli is so popular, but we ignored the dozens of eager eyes boring into our heads , hoping to hurry our chewing along so they could sit down and eat. The pizza couple cave into the hurrying eyes and go to box up their more than half leftover pizza.

 As the woman stands up, her hip hits the table, and the pizza slides off its pizza stand, hitting the floor face down. Instant silence ensued as the full restaurant observes this loss of pie and we all join in a group moan and wail. The woman swoops down, gathers up the overturned pie, and plops it back onto her table. She becomes a  911 responder,  ready to resuscitate the food, grabbing napkins and "dusting" the top of the pizza. She renders CPR ( Chaotic- Pizza- Rants), blowing across the slices to clear off any invisible germs left.

Looking  at me, she asks, "Can I apply the 3 second rule to food dropped on the floor at a restaurant"? I shrugged and reply, "Sure. It still looks perfectly edible. You were very thorough with the napkin wipes. "She said, "I think so too!" then boxes up her pie.

The group of guys next to us nodded in agreement and one said , "Actually, it's illegal to throw any Cortina pizza in the trash. You've done the right thing!". The woman smiles, thanking us for our support, grabs her boxed pizza and leaves with her husband who's been just sitting there, shaking his head, waving his hands in protest throughout the CPR ( and no doubt wondering if he's the one that gets to eat it for midnight snack.)

I probably would have picked the pizza off the floor, but left it behind, risking that citation for trashing Cortina pizza. No way did that  paper napkin dab, wipe and added blow, remove enough microbes and fur balls to entice me to risk it, even though its awesome pizza! But I will be going back soon and getting my own slice and you can bet it won't be touching anything other than my mouth. YUM!

Beware of me and my big stick!

I went to Home Depot and bought a big 8 foot long post for a project along with a cart full of accessories that made me appear to look like I am building something awesome and complicated. At least the tools and gadgets and paint to go with the wood made me feel competent and a little awesome.

I refused help out to the car from cute orange aproned checker man, just to prove myself capable. As I am standing at the back of the Expedition, I moved to the side to make room for the folks loading along side of me. A woman driving a Dodge van wide turns into the parking spot in front of us and sees me wrestling my big post. Her mouth makes a big O and swerves into a cluster of shopping carts. My head cocks to the side in confusion. She backs out of the cart cluster into another cart, sending it merrily away into a pickup down the row.

 Now the woman has big O mouth and eyes to match, and she is screaming. She turns into the original cart cluster in front of me again. My parking lot neighbors have stopped loading , confused by her shouting rants while parking  and the wife grabs the kids and shoves them into the car. Now the maniac Dodge driver is frantic to escape from me and my post , backing her van ridiculously fast, but now there is a shopping cart crunched and jammed under her front fender and she's dragging it away with her. Finally, she is free of the very damaged cart and she drives away leaving the remains behind and on its side, wheels wonky and orange paint missing.

Good luck explaining all those dents and scratches to her insurance company. Me and my lot neighbor escaped her unscathed but highly amused. Maybe driving a Dodge van drives you to insanity.

I load up my stuff and head home to create my project for Sunset magazine. Feeling a little sorry for Mrs. Cart Crusher. She probably just wanted a garden stake and only picked up some new dings!

Run! Run! As fast as you can!

I was sitting out on my front porch when I see a baby run by. Not real fast, but baby running. The little girl is obviously delighted that she is running free down the sidewalk, but where is she running to? She's only about 11 months old, who can she know down the street? Where's she going? What's her plan? She doesn't even have any luggage or diaper bag!



I'm about ready to head out after her when this young, VERY young man, ( really - he's a teenager), is  dashing down the block after the baby, his baggy pants hindering his gait; he's holding them up with one hand and holding his ball cap on with the other. He catches up with the baby and to her delight, she is swooped up into his arms giggling and squealing. The man is panting and wild eyed.  As  he's  walking back with the baby girl over his shoulder like a sack of beans, he discovers me standing there watching with my obvious look of concern for baby safety on Greengate.

He says to me "Wow. I didn't know a  baby could move so fast! She just learned how to walk last week. I'm gonna need to watch her better, I'm new at this".



Yes dear, we were all new at baby watch at one point in our parenting lives and you do need to pay attention. Constantly. Vigilantly.  Congratulations. Today you really became the dad. I think you're going to be good at it. Your baby girl obviously loves you pretty fine! Careful though. She has discovered the ageless game called Gingerbread man!

Pomp and Circumstance

The month of May heralds the successful accomplishments of many collegiates. A relief to know higher education is alive and taken advantage of by intelligent and success minded young adults  . I have the privilege to be acquainted with several brilliant young people and a couple who have just finished master degrees and doctorates.

You really have to applaude the parents who have urged and encouraged their children to press on for that degree...and standing ovation to those who have funded the entire venture without any expectation of payback from their child except perhaps free medical advice, law representation or manage some mutual funds and stocks without a sur charge. Most have avoided bankruptcy and famine to ensure that their baby got the push ahead and the piece of paper to prove success is in hand!

This weekend we attended one such celebration for a family friend. A joy to see the baby grow into a wise man and wave his diploma around. The honoree was given a grad party where he was toasted and roasted,  during which he displayed 50 shades of red as his most private moments were cast out to the crowd gathered and causing him discomfort and squirming in his hot seat. Why is it so much fun to watch some  one you really like twitch and moan as intimate and private details are revealed about their past and present? I've got to admit, we jumped at the chance to add our  share of revealing secrets and piling on to the pile of  "wish you wouldn't". Mr. Man actually chuckled with delight at the opportunity even though public speaking isn't his forte.

It's a testament to good character when the "Roasted" takes the comments, is laughed at, made fun of and remains composed without shedding a drop of sweat and graciously thanks each person in attendance for being a part of  who he is and how he got there.

We are glad to have been included in the milestone and look forward to seeing what lies ahead in each of your futures. To those of you waiting for your loved ones big day, it's worth the wait to know they got there and couldn't have without the help of their tribe and village.  We congratulate you. Now go to work and pay off those student loans!

Nap time

Do not underestimate the restorative power of the afternoon nap. It is so serene to lay in the warm shade, and soak in the heat to the core with the coolness of a breeze stroking your face. There is always some sort of house work to be done, gardening, watering, weeding, shopping, sorting, planning. To think about it all can start to make you feel ... inadequate and unproductive.
  I qualify my nap time by telling myself I am employed. I have worked my entire adult life.  I have raised a family. I have pets to care for and children to worry about even though they haven't lived here for 8 years ,support themselves financially and are living independently from their mother.


  It's hard work thinking about these activities ! Why, just writing about them is exhausting. The worries of the planet being destroyed by meteorites, global warming, war of the worlds takes up any extra worry time. There is no reason at all that I should feel guilty about a nap. I will awaken rejuvenated and lively, ready to greet Mr. Man, cook him his meal and do at least one more productive activity.


Any of you clucking and tsking at me for napping? Well, stop it. Lay down on the sofa for 10 minutes. You've earned it. But if you nap outside take some sound advice from me.... make sure any exposed body parts are sun blocked with spf 45 and keep your mouth closed- I just ate a bug!

Today I'm going to bake a cake

Today I'm going to bake a cake from scratch.

No boxed mix, no premeasured ingredients. I have to use actual measuring spoons and mixers.  It's going to be a fine cake, using all organic ingredients and topped with a very un-organic confection called cream cheese frosting!  I have already envisioned this cake at its completion, and given it a blue ribbon win at the state fair! Am I a baker??? Definitely NOT- But I'm going to wear my apron that proclaims "Mom can cook" yet lacks the stains to prove the title true.

These occasional attempts at desserts usually end in unsatisfactory results and rants of frustration with a floor covered in flour and sugar. I'm motivated by the fact that company is coming tomorrow and a friend just gave me 5 pounds of huge carrots that are taking up valuable real estate in the fridge. Looking at all these carrots, I realize this is a years supply for me so now what? My solution was carrot cake- By Terri Glascow, RN.

Terri was a friend of mine at the hospital, back in 1986. She would bake us her carrot cake every month as a celebration of all the staffs birthdays. I had never tasted carrot cake before, and didn't know you could make a vegetable taste so delicious. ( I used to be young and ignorant.) After Terri left the hospital, she sent me a card, enclosing her "secret" carrot cake recipe. I have attempted it only one other time to apparent failure since it sat on the cake plate for a week without a second helping from any one.

 I've lost track of Terri over the years but always remember her whenever I come across any kind of carrot cake. To my friends planning on dessert with me tomorrow, my hope is that I can channel dear Terri into the batter.  Spatulas and bowls at the ready! It will be a bake off of the wills!

Recipe for Terri Glasgow's "secret" Carrot cake
Serves 10-12.  Bake 35 minutes at 350 deg. F


Ingredient list:  2 Cups flour                             *1 cup Crisco Oil
                         2 Cups sugar                               4 eggs
                         2 tsp.  baking soda                      3 cups shredded carrots
                         3  tsp cinnamon                           1 tsp vanilla
                         1 tsp salt                                      1 Cup each  chopped walnuts and raisins
                                                                            * Add 1/4 cup more oil if nuts are used.
Combine dry ingredients , add nuts and raisins.
Add oil and eggs. Mix in carrots and vanilla and beat together well.
Pour into Ungreased 9X13 inch pan.
Bake at 350 deg. for 30 -35 minutes. Top with Cream Cheese frosting after cake has cooled.


Cream Cheese Frosting:
                                               1   8 ounce package of cream cheese
                                               1/4 lb. butter or oleo
                                               1 tsp. vanilla
                                               1 box powdered sugar

Cream the cheese and butter. Add the vanilla and powdered sugar . Beat well. Frost cooled cake.

Good Morning?

Again, I found myself in a compromising and unnecessarily humiliating situation. Why, oh why, do I think I can sneak outside looking ridiculous and ragtag in questionable attire at any time of the night and day and get away with it? I chalk it up to just being lazy! There I was, sneaking outside just at daybreak, barefoot, braless, hair askew in every direction, trying to change out a birdfeeder that hangs just outside the front door. It was supposed to be a quick exchange.  Step outside, and hear, "Good morning Lori! How have you been?" There is a couple walking across the street and bleary eyed me cannot fathom who they are. I wave and ask, "What are you doing in my neck of the woods?" To which they reply, "We thought we would walk this way for a change and check it out". Still clueless to who these people are. Now they are crossing the street coming onto my lawn and walk. I am blinking, rapidly trying to discern their identities. We exchange pleasantries and then I realize these are dear and beloved friends I have not seen in many, many  years and we stand there talking and catching up for 2 hours, all while I'm holding my birdfeeder and trying to keep my morning breath to myself.  As we bid each other good bye with promises to see each other again soon, I come back into the house and see my reflection with mascara smeared, eye goobers, bad, bad, bad hair,(where were you Miss Maryann?)  and indecent attire. Oh dear Lord why didn't the sidewalk open up and swallow me into a turbo makeover spa! It was wonderful to see  old friends, and catch up on the family-all of whom were in my wedding. I'd like to say I don't usually look like I did, but after reflecting on my past, apparently I do. Hoping the experience will make a new and reformed me but doubting it even as I write this. At least the birds got fed.

Sing a Song

You know it's a good song when it gives you goose bumps and evokes emotion deep in your soul whether it be happiness, sadness or uninhibited frolicking.
 It can't be helped-wanting to share the song with the world, so the volume is turned to the highest decibels so the melody can encompass your entire being.
 The bass resonates deeply in your spine and sternum, rattling the cartilage delightfully. The heart tightens with a squeeze of emotion.
 Lifting my voice in song, I join in, hearing myself pitch perfect , the lyrics describing my mood and feelings exactly. Time stands still so this experience is all encompassing.  I am a star to be discovered, with talent to match all. Surely I should be on the radio and famous for this voice.
 As the tune ends, and I have completed my vibrato and warbles, my face is all smiles. I was awesome!
Then, turning my head to acknowledge my Grammy winning performance to the water bottle and canned goods in the back seat,  reality sets in. Here I am, parked on the 91 freeway, windows rolled down and there are a hundred indignant eyes glaring my way. It's my "One Moment in Time".  Sorry folks , I thought I was Whitney Houston. Could this traffic go any slower?
 Escape is not coming soon enough!

Perfume

I made a SAMs club run.

A lady shopped by me and I was keeled over by the heavy usage of stale perfume. Soon after she passed, I started having a terrible allergy attack and wheezing. I smelled her perfume trail the entire time I was there and wanted to tackle her and put her into the frozen fish case after sealing her in a mile of saran wrap.

 She probably doesn't realize she has coated her outer layers with gallons of the "perfume" and it's probably seeped into her blood stream so she always will smell like that. Escaped to the furthest corner of the store from the offensive odor and waited for the eyes and nose to stop burning. I tried to shop ahead of her but my body started seizing up as she closed the distance between us.

Its been days now and I still "taste" her odor in the back of my throat and smell it on my hair- that I have since shampooed 5 times and coated in vinegar and next step is tomato juice. I've also plucked all the nose hairs out- which was a painful and watery eyed feat- and burned the clothing I was wearing. Extreme? maybe but since I've done that, my headache and wheezing have gone away.

Here's to Estee Lauder....in micro misted usage!! ( Can you get an epi pen script for over exposure to perfume?