A Lady of Leisure (at least for today)

I am being quite lazy today, and oh, does it ever feel nice. Really, I don't do this nearly enough. Maybe if I did, I would feel better prepared to meet the rest of life head on, instead of head down, weary to the core. Today was spent:
          -waking up at the Maust cabin after an impromptu overnight camp-out.
          -enjoying the crisp morning air filled with the promise of Autumn just around the corner.
          -eating grilled potatoes, squash, mushrooms, peppers and eggs with Texas toast.
          -enjoying a steamy cup of coffee.
          -reading a Terri Blackstock novel, Dawn's Light.
          -driving home with a vehicle loaded to the limit with blankets, food, pillows and kids.
          -going for a hike through the woods and fields.
(Oops, that reminds me that I traipsed through poison ivy, twice, in flip-flops. I'll be back; I feel the need to wash my feet.)
Okay, that's better, although I don't have a good feeling about it. If you'd like to see some fine          specimens of the poison ivy plant, come on over. Now, where was I?
          -relaxing again with my book whilst the girls watch The Fellowship of The Ring.
          -and right now?
  I am smelling chicken noodle soup simmering on the stove. The house is quiet except for an occasional outburst  of laughter from the girls. Leo is somewhere with The Lancaster Farmer newspaper and I am lounging on the bed, with my laptop, writing. There are still a few hours left in the day; what should I do?

But wait, do I really have to do anything?
Nah, that's what the rest of the week is for.

Love,
Dianne


         

Balance. . . Sooooo Welcome

A topic it seems I come back to a lot is BALANCE.
Why is it so hard to find?
To maintain?

Work an extra shift to help pay a car bill or spend time with family?
This should be a no-brainer, but sometimes it is not.

Last night I got the dreaded call from the hospital that the "on-call" was being started as we got more admissions and were busy, needing a fifth person to either work or be "on-call?" Could I do the 3-11 shift on Saturday? I wanted to say "No." I mean "NO!!!!!!!", but instead, I said,  "Let me see what we have going on and I'll call back."

Thus the struggle began.
I know what it is like to work when it is crazy busy and that fifth person is sooooo welcome.
My car  needs major work. Poor Scarlet. The money would also be sooooo welcome.
I could make it work to be available to work.
We could do sweet corn next week instead of Saturday.
But. . .
I am tired from working the last two nights.
I didn't sleep much and a day off would be sooooo welcome.
We'd all be home to do sweet corn on Saturday and the extra hands would be soooo welcome.
I just want a day off to be home, no errands to run, no place to go.
I'd have to drive Morning Glory, my ancient Subaru that isn't meant to go so hard anymore. (She is supposed to be retired.)

What to do, oh what to do?

My work family is just that, a kind of family. I don't want to let them down anymore than I do my "real" family. Sometimes I do need to be available for work things, and sometimes I need to not be.
Sometimes I need to say no, like I did at my other job last evening. An unexpected new client visit came up and it would've meant another 45 minutes of driving plus the interview and assessment. I already was doing 3 planned visits and hoped to be home in the evening with my family.

Again, what to do?

I decided that I could not do the visit. We had a birthday celebration planned and I wanted, no, needed, to be here with my family. And that's what I did. Did I feel guilty somehow? Yes, a little; but I need to give myself permission sometimes to say "No." I needed to maintain balance.

I finally called the hospital back.
The first 4 hours were covered, but the 7pm-11pm still needed someone.
I could keep you in suspense here.

But I won't.

I took the 4 hours and now I am on-call. How do I feel about it? I wish I wasn't, but it is part of my job, and if I think back to when Ryan was a NICU baby, I am thankful for nurses who were available, who could take care of him when the unit was busy. So, sometimes I need to be that nurse for another baby, and go with a smile, grateful for the opportunity to serve.

Why say "no" to one extra work assignment, and "yes"to another?
I really couldn't do the extra visit last night. I had plans. My family needed me here. I had only slept about two hours and all the extra driving wasn't smart. As for the hospital shift tonight? Most of my family has plans and will be going their own way this evening. I am rested. I can make it work, and now I can pay for parts for my car a little easier.

Balance.
Hard to find sometimes.
But, when you do, it feels a little like I am wearing an Olympic Gold around my neck.

Love,
Dianne

I Should've Been A Librarian

Yesterday I mentioned one of the reasons I am a nurse, but I thought you might like the whole story.
How did I come to be an RN?
Honestly, sometimes I don't even know.
I don't like blood.
I don't like needles.
I don't like body fluids.
I don't like the adrenalin rush that goes with alarms going off.
I don't like ambulance rides.
I don't like big words, science, or math.
I don't like policy, procedure, or regulations.

So, why am I a nurse?

Back in 1999, I was pregnant with Heather and I started thinking about what it would be like to be a midwife. Blame it on hormones, but I started asking around what I would need to do. The first thing was to become a registered nurse. So. . . I started volunteering at Somerset Hospital on the OB/Women's Health floor. I got to be around the nurses and the midwives and I thought "Okay, I can do this." That Fall, when Heather was just five months old, I started taking General Ed. classes at Allegany College of Md.

Over the next two years, I got most of the Gen. Ed. classes under my belt, and in September 2001, I took my first Nursing class. I had continued to volunteer at Somerset Hospital and also did some work as a doula (a birthing/labor support person). Then once I was able to, I began working as a Nursing Assistant on the telemetry floor, also at Somerset.

Finally, Spring 2003 arrived and I had my Associate of Science degree in Nursing. I was a registered nurse, for better or for worse. I had spent countless hours praying for God's direction in all of this; after all, I didn't want to be a nurse if it wasn't in His plan for my life. You know how some people just know what they want to be when they grow up? Well, I never grew up thinking I'd be a nurse. Once Leo told me I should be a nurse, and I thought he was crazy.

If someone would have told me when I was 20 years old, that I would be a nurse, I would have thought they were nuts. I had no desire to go to college; I was content being a wife and hopefully, a mother soon. If I would have gone to college then, it would have been for interior design, architecture, or journalism. Not nursing.

Sometimes at work, when things get stressful, I often say, "I should've been a librarian." Why? I like books. I like libraries. I like story hour. I think libraries are restful places to be.

Anyhow. . .

Why am I a nurse?
-At the time, it seemed like the direction God was pointing me in; He knows me better than I know myself, so I just have to trust that He knew, and still knows, what He is doing.
-Honestly, I needed a job that was secure, with a good income, to help out with the farm income, and nursing seemed like the answer.
-I like helping people get better, feel healthier, and live fuller lives.
-I like taking care of premature babies.
-I like meeting new people.
-I like knowing that I helped someone.
-I like that I can be a blessing to a hurting person.

The midwife dream? Gone. It wasn't really the right thing for me once I got to really see how it all worked. However, being at Somerset, working on Women's Health, led me to Johnstown where I am at presently, working in the NICU.

The future? I will work as a nurse for as long as it continues to be a good fit for me and my family, but I don't see myself being a full-time, night shift RN until the day I retire. I have too many other interests and ideas to pursue, as well as being present and available for my family.

Do I regret becoming a nurse? Would I do it all over again?
No, I don't regret it; it has made me a better, stronger person. I think I would do it again, at least, some days I think that. Other days, absolutely not! I think that is true for any job though. I wish nursing wasn't so much about charting and documentation, rules and regulations, policy and procedure, and more about actually taking the time to care for the person, but it is what it is.

There you have it, more or less, why I am a nurse.
It just goes to show that the best-laid plans can sometimes take a roller coaster turn.
I am glad I was strapped in tight.

Love,
Dianne RNC-BSN, CM/DN, MOM, WIFE, CO-CEO of Maust Family

Sick Day

I am feeling sick today.
I keep hoping I am just tired.
Three night shifts in a row will do that to you.
I hate feeling sick.
I am a big baby about it.
Do you notice how many "I" statements there are?
I am selfish when I don't feel good.
I need a bell to ring so someone takes care of me.

I.
Me.
Myself.

But is it really all about me?
No.
I just think it is sometimes, or I make it that way.

To get my mind off feeling yucky, I need to think about others, do something for someone else, or just do something to get my mind off of how I feel.

When the kids were all much smaller, we had a "sick box". Full of Happy Meal toys, small coloring books, a Silly Willie magnet game, magic markers, stickers, string, fabric, scissors, and miscellaneous animals (plastic, of course), I would pull this out when someone was sick. The idea was to get their mind of how they felt by focusing on something else. A good video worked too and the sick little one and I would watch "Mother Goose", "The Donut Man", "101 Dalmations", and "Little Bear" over and over in the middle of the night.

Distraction was good. I liked to somehow make not feeling well, a fun-ish time. I knew I couldn't make the sickness go away, but I could help them make the best of it. This is what they say about the memories:

Adrienne: "I remember laying in the living room watching recorded Disney movies and Little House on The Prairie. You would go on late night runs to Garlitz Groceries for popsicles, sherbet and ginger ale. You would sing and pray while we were throwing up and give us a cool cloth for our face. Sometimes you would read to us or we'd listen to Adventures in Odyssey. At Thomas Drug Store, I liked being able to pick out something that would maybe make me feel better."

Note by Dianne: Not that my singing was that amazing or anything, but when my kids were throwing up, I needed a distraction and singing aloud always helped me as much as them.

Aaron: "Gingerale, singing to us, back rubs, towels on pillows, having to take small sips instead of taking big gulps, sleeping downstairs, staying home from school, going to the doctor and then the drugstore for medicine and a treat. I knew whatever medicine you would give me would make me feel better and I liked when you asked me what I needed."  

Amy: "I remember you making me lay on the couch with a towel over the pillow, and a bucket nearby. (Yuck). We always got to drink pop, and if you were at work, you'd always stop and get us a treat of some kind. Movies were always good. "

Heather: "You would braid my hair, and we'd get popsicles. Sleeping in the living room was special, because you could've slept in your own comfortable bed, but didn't. "

Ryan: "You give me medicine...umm...I can lay around and watch TV. You pray with me. And I get to stay home from school."

I think one reason I wanted to be a nurse was that I liked taking a negative experience, and turning it into something positive. I like making it an experience that you can look back on with favorable feelings and know that while the experience wasn't fun, it maybe made you into a better person. I do not like when my husband or children are sick, but I do like that I can take care of them, and bring a bit of joy into an unpleasant time.

As I lay here, I realize that I don't feel quite as yucky as when I started writing. I am thankful, but I may still just go find a bell to ring, just for the fun of it.

Love,
Dianne

The Restful State of Awake

2:49pm and I awaken to the sound of leaves rustling together on the tree outside my window as thunder grumbles in the distance. Other than the leaves, there is a stillness outside, a quietness, a hush as everything else holds it's breath in anticipation of a storm.  Only a moment passes, then a sigh, and I hear a cricket begin it's afternoon chant.

2:53pm and now a few birds have added to the cricket's lament. The thunder sounds more distant, but then there is one louder complaint. I am waiting. My heart beats a steady rhythm as I rest, listening.

2:56pm and the leaves tapping on my window are more urgent now, sending a mixed Morse code. The laundry on the clothesline as flapping about in the increasing wind, asking to be let in, out of the impending rain shower.

3:00pm. I watch the pine tree on the front of the house as it lifts its limbs and then lowers them, like a deep sigh. There is blue sky with incredibly high fluffy clouds. The thunder has paused for a moment, finding nothing to say for now. The breeze whispers an August poem, telling of fairs and lazy afternoons, sweet corn and cantaloupe.

3:12pm. The wind has occasional bursts of ambition and the tree outside my bedroom window responds with a shudder and the sound of a hundred leaves clapping their hands, and a few twigs scratching across my window in a screechy chalkboard kind of way. I was relaxing until that moment occurred.

3:15pm and I no longer hear the thunder. I am disappointed. I was looking forward to an afternoon thunderstorm. Instead, I hear Ryan and Leo out at the barn, having a muffled conversation about the important questions of life, like "why do elbows bend the way they do", and "what's for supper". One of the gray cats is meowing down by the door; it might be Martha or Kurt, or one of the two young gray ones. Anyone want a friendly midsize gray cat? Four is plenty for us and Martha has a new litter of kittens hidden away in the barn. I don't think the cats were disappointed that the storm passed us by.

3:20pm. My alarm goes off in 40 minutes and I should close my eyes for a few more snatches of sleep. I should be sleeping now, but you know, the thunder and all... Actually, I feel rested, even though I was awakened to early. The sounds of nature have a way of doing that you know.

3:23pm. Good night for a little while. Sweet dreams.

Love,
Dianne

Toads and Snails and Puppy Dog Tails

"What are little boys made of?

What are little boys made of?

Slugs and snails and puppy dog tails,

That's what little boys are made of."

I think a better version would be:

...Toads and snails and puppy doy tails...

Last evening as the full moon peeped above the trees, 

the toads which inhabit the garden just outside the front door, also peeped out. 

Ryan couldn't help himself. 

He had to pick this bad boy up. 

He was happy, very happy

Ryan, not the toad,

until Heather mentioned "toad pee" and "warts".

Then the wise, understanding Mother spoke up. 

"I don't think that's where warts come from; you'll be okay."

(I said "think", because really, where do warts come from?)

And the greeting and meeting of the toad commenced. 

He's a handsome one, isn't he. 

As the moon continued it's journey up into the sky, casting a bluish hue over the misty landscape,
the little boy and his mother discovered two more toads.

 Smaller than the first one,

 these two were like youngsters who were sneaking out of the house 

for an evening of mischievousness. 

This would include:

sneaking up on sleepy flies,

tangling the spider's web,

eating the choicest of blossoms,

splashing about the birdbath,

and chirping merrily all the while.

Love,

Dianne

Distracted From The Finish Line

I want to work out in the yard and gardens today. I do. But this morning when I got up, my hands were itchy with some kind of a rash. It's the same rash I get every once in a while that I always attribute to an allergy to some kind of weed. Or it's just a simple eczema flare-up. Whatever it is, it is ITCHY and annoying, and putting a damper on my plans for today. I could wear garden gloves I suppose, but when my hands are already irritated, that makes it worse.

Let's move to Plan B:
1) Read something inspirational and motivational.
2) Drink coffee.
3) Assign chores for the day.
4) Do a load or two, or three, of laundry.
5) Paint in the basement room.
6) Plan lunch and supper.
7) Do charting from yesterday's home visits.
8) Scratch my hands. Or not.
9) Reorganize my sewing corner. Again.
10) Smile. Smile. Smile.
11) Exercise and update the food log.

Eleven things on my list for today(so far). Even if my plans change, I always have something to do. I am thankful that boredom is never an issue for me; I simply have too many hobbies and interests, not to mention, just work that needs done, to be bored. My to-do list could be eight pages long and I could probably still think of more to add.

My problem is distractions. I can make the list. I can have the best plans in my head when I go to bed, but come morning, the plan becomes unraveled. I start out okay, but then I see something that needs done that was not on "The List", and I do that instead. Even in the midst of that project I see something else and at the end of the day, I may have done a lot but nothing feels finished, and I feel like I haven't accomplished anything.

The Olympics are on and I have caught snatches of the various competitions. What really strikes me is their intense focus and determination. If I had half, or even a fourth, of that determination, I would be so much more effective.

My Olympic event would be the shot-put, except I would just keep spinning in a circle and forgetting to let go. Or the hurdles, which I would run to eagerly, but then stop short of actually getting over. Or the balance beam, except I would never really gain my balance.

You get the picture; I am not focused enough to achieve the goals I have, nor do I have the balance in my life to keep things running smoothly. At least, not much of the time.

I can get upset, or I can accept this is who I am, or I can change in the ways that I am able. The finish line is there; am I going to cross it? The choice is mine.

1 Corinthians 9:24-27 
Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one receives the prize? So run that you may obtain it. Every athlete exercises self-control in all things. They do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable. So I do not run aimlessly; I do not box as one beating the air. But I discipline my body and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified.


Whether it is conquering The List, visiting someone who needs a friend when you don't have time, spending time with your kids, helping someone with a project that wasn't your own, or whatever that it for you, we can be focused, determined, and able to cross the finish line. Even if I don't come in first, I will still have finished. 


Love,
Dianne