Best thing EVER!

Ok, so I don't really have anything to say except I found something really awesome. I mean really really awesome. Words cannot explain how awesome this thing is. To check out this awesome thing, please click here.

And just because I feel like I should have a picture of something on this blog. Here you go...

Herding cats...

So I tried to have some new photos to post of Dexter and Piper, but trying to photograph those two is like well...herding cats.

Having these two babies in the house has been a bittersweet transition. Although we love them very much, we are reminded every day of Rusty and how much we miss him. Dexter paddles in his water dish just like Rusty and Piper refuses to sit still at this age, also just like Rusty. But there are differences too, Piper bites everything. Everything. Freud would say he is stuck in the oral stage. Everything must be experienced through his mouth. Shoes, toes, blankets, Dexter...you name it. He's not mean, just exploratory. Dexter has no inhibition. He loves everything and will try anything and makes the cutest little squished cat sound when Piper lands on him.

Over the past few days we have been letting them out of their room for a few hours at a time while we are home. Eric and I were upstairs; I trying to study and he resting, while the two of them were exploring. The next half an hour went like this:

1) Dexter on the bed
2) Piper on the bed
3) Keira concerned
4) Dexter running laps on the bed
5) Dexter sitting on Eric's back
6) Piper regarding
7) Keira concerned, but really wanting to play on the bed too.
8) Dexter and Piper booted off the bed, Keira invited up.
9) Dexter on the bed
10) Piper on the bed
11) Keira off the bed
12) Dexter and Piper beating each other up, usually while sitting on Eric
13) Keira concerned
14) Dexter and Piper booted off the bed. Again.
15) Keira sniffs Kitties
16) Kitties under bed...for now
17) Piper chewing on laptop cable
18) Dexter on the bed
19) Dexter chewing on text book (which now has kitty teeth marks in it)
20) Dexter booted off the bed
21) Dexter on the bed
22) Dexter OFF the bed
23) Dexter on the bed
24) Piper on the bed
25) Keira on the bed
26) Becky off the bed
27) Piper, Dexter and Keira off the bed. Laptop unplugged.
28) Eric giggling...forgets himself and wiggles his toes under the blanket.
29) Dexter on the bed
30) Piper on the bed, biting Eric's toes...under the blankets.

Lesson learned: Shut the bedroom door! :)

And since I have no picture of my own kittehs...I leave you with this LOL cat.

Mortality.

She is 4 months old and she is dying. Born premature with severe neurological deficits, this little peanut will not likely not survive much longer. I held her today for 2 hours while she cried and then rested, and then cried again. Her voice is weak and where most other infants would have a lusty cry at being poked and prodded, she doesn't even open her eyes. When you assess her, you notice things that just should not be: her toes are always spread apart and her arms unfurl only grudgingly.

I have a bruise on the back of my hand from where my watch was digging in... I just didn't have the heart to move her when she finally settled.

I'm not talking about this to glorify what I do, or even to seek sympathy. Almost everyone I know would have done just exactly what I did today. I'm talking about this experience because I need an outlet.

Can you imagine what her family must be going through? I am privileged to know more details then most people would and I can not begin to fathom it. The grief must be unbearable. I guess I just can't wrap my mind around what that must be like.

I think that what surprises me the most about this experience is that I have nothing profound to say (not that I am a particularly profound person!). Before you go into a day like today you think that when you experience something like this that you will have this great epiphany; that you will somehow come to understand your own mortality in a different way. But you know, as I sat there watching her little face...all I could think was...was "what a sweet little girl" and "this is so unbelievably awfully sad". I came out of this experience with no new insight or life changing revelation. I think I came away with a simple form of love. It's really the only way I can describe this feeling. I feel privileged to have been part of this little one's life and yah, I do have love for her and her family. It's an odd feeling to love a complete stranger, but I really think that's the only way you can describe it.

I am well aware that this sounds very "virtue script-esque" or "stereotypical" for someone in my profession. My question for those who are skeptics is: how else can you deal with someone else's mortality, but through love?

Peanut.

Wow, the first post of 2009. I feel privileged to be alive today. The snow is falling gently and the sandwich being eaten by the anonymous person beside me smells delicious. Really, if those are the two things on my mind at this moment, I am indeed privileged.

I should not say that those are the only two things on my mind. Truthfully there is a lot more then that going on. I had my second pediatric/maternity course today and I believe that my love of mental health is about to be superseded by a love for moms and babies. "Peanut" seems to be a term of endearment that several instructors have used when they refer to a little one they are/or have been caring for. I like that. I also like that this morning my prof encouraged all of us in the class to be the HCP that takes the time to bring water to a new mom while breast feeding, to take the 3 year old sibling to the play room or to be the one to cry or laugh with the family. That appeals to me in every possible way. You see, so far I have been pretty nervous about letting my own personality infuse into my practice. I am so concerned with being politically correct and culturally sensitive that I do not allow mySELF to come through. Living like this is extremely fatiguing and feels unnatural so this semester I will try something different. I will maintain my professionalism and all that accompanies this, but I will also allow mySELF to come through. I will laugh, I will cry, I will love and I will likely be a bit of a goof (hey, I can't help it!). But I will NOT be anyone but mySELF.

I learned yesterday that the motto for the first nursing school in St. Catherines, ON was "I see and am silent". Well, not anymore. I am meeting Peanut tomorrow and I can hardly wait.

If a flatulent canine emission were visible...

...I am quite sure it would be the color of peanut butter and just as thick. Is that disgusting enough for you? I could go on. There is plenty of odoriferous inspiration sitting right next to me on the couch. Blech.

I think I will now try my hand at a bit of silliness which will take its form as a Haiku:

Keira, you smell bad.
But I love you anyway.
Your smile deceives me.

I giggle to myself and she sighs again. I question who is really getting the last laugh.

I ponder...

Silence. I am struck by how this word does not mean the absence of sound. As I sit I can hear the swish-swoosh of the dishwasher, the tappity-clicking of a keyboard and mouse and the occasional sigh from the dog. If I listen closer I can hear my own breathing, the creak of a chair or a laugh from upstairs. So no, not quiet, yet it is silent. Soft- muted-homey sounds which are a soothing balm to frayed nerves. I can almost feel this 'silence', like it is a quasi-tangible state of being which wraps itself around me, whispering in my ear "Ssshhhh, it's Ok. You're home and you're safe and you're all right. Here with you are those you love; both those in body and those in spirit. Here is peace." I am comforted and I am thankful.

Do you think that maybe this silence could be God?

Fragg-nabbit and Blasted-mindfarnkels

That title beautifully describes my emotional state of being. I HATE writing reflection papers. Why should I have to validate what I feel with how someone else feels? Can't I just be original and write something true to myself? I understand relating how I feel to practice and standards and ethics and all that jazz...but this business of writing an academic diary is driving me around the bend. In fact, it has driven me around the bend. Straight up the driveway to the big crazy house where 14 clowns are waiting to greet me and strap a bright red ball on my nose so we can all run around yelling "meep-meep".

YEARGHRHLKJLFIADHAHAHAH!

*sigh* I better get back to writing. But first, where did I put those size 16 shoes?