Just a nurse?

I haven't written in a long time. Not that there haven't been many things on which I could expound. Not that there haven't been endless things about which I have an opinion. Not for any reasons other than being busy and enjoying summer and a teensy bit of writer's block that I am pretending to ignore.

But yesterday I caught up on the #showmeyourstethescope movement and I was awed. Stunned. Moved to tears and laughter. And not by the stupid women on "The View" who seem to be living under a rock of entitlement and idiocy but by the OUTPOURING of support for those that provide nursing care. I spent hours, literally hours, reading the posts on the facebook page  Show Me Your Stethoscope and learned a lot. About people who care and give and devote their lives to making other people's lives better.

You should visit the page. Read some of the stories, especially those by family members who have been touched by the kindness of a nurse. Or those from doctors who make it very clear how much they depend on nurses. I especially loved the one where the doctor stated he was a physician because he wasn't brave enough to be a nurse.

My mother is a nurse. She is now a provider (a nurse practitioner with lots of letters after her name) but the fundamental part of her training is still that on which she relies every day - caring about each and every patient. When my son was born and I was struggling to learn to feed him, he couldn't swallow all the milk in his mouth. I was 25 and terrified and pushed the call button. And I still get teary-eyed remembering the stampede of people who ran to my room, so many nurses they couldn't all get into the room. But I needed help and they came. Immediately. The nurses in the Emergency Room who knew my grandmother was dying but treated her like a queen anyway because dignity is a given for patients, not something reserved for only a few. And we, her family, were included in that treatment. I have a multitude of stories about the nurses who have touched my life and who I admire. And I couldn't do it, not for an hour much less a lifetime. It isn't that I don't care but I just don't have what it takes to do what they do - it is a calling.

So hug a nurse today, or say thank you to one. Support the companies that are supporting our nurses by not advertising on "The View" (Johnson & Johnson, McCormick, Party City, Snuggle, Eggland's Best to name a few). And read the stories on "Show Me Your Stethoscope" and be awed.

Just the beginning

MAXIMO: The greatest. 

When I was pregnant with Max, one of the definitions I read said "will do great things." We chose to name him after a grandfather and a great-grandfather. Not to burden him with expectations, but to bestow on him a connection to two men who personified being a gentleman's gentleman, men who had qualities we admired and thought would serve him well.

All that seems so long ago. The tiny person whose feeding and sleeping I agonized over is now 18. He went to his prom last week. He graduates from high school a week from today. He has a job and could care less about my opinion of the clothes he wears. He has learned to navigate (mostly) on his own. And I am awed.

A friend asked me yesterday how I dealt with my boy being all grown up and I realized I was doing much better than I thought I would. I am spending more time looking at his little boy pictures, but I also am thrilled by the young man who proudly picked out birthday presents for me (ones I really liked!). Remembering his pudgy hand in mine is bittersweet, seeing him in a tuxedo is awesome in the truest sense of the word. And as I told my friend yesterday, that grown up façade cracks now and again, particularly when he is sleepy or a bit overwhelmed. And he props his head on my shoulder - even though he has to duck to do so - and lets me be mom for another few minutes.

I take no credit for this wonderful young man, one who truly is the greatest and will continue to do great things. I can only continue to love him fiercely and be proud of all he is and will be.

The difference between "commando" and "No Panties Day"

I suppose there are a lot of names for going "sans culottes" other than commando but the only two I know are the ones I just used. I am sure you get my drift no matter which words you use to describe it and whatever you call it, whenever you do it, carry on and enjoy.

It isn't the issue of which undergarments you choose to wear that has me on my soapbox today but the ADVERTISED "No Panties Day" on June 22nd. The below meme was liked by someone on Facebook and I felt sick seeing it:

It really irked me that a man, most likely sharing from another man, and another man, on back, felt it was ok to announce to women that they aren't to wear underwear on a specific day of the year. It doesn't say "No Boxers" or "No Drawers," just "No Panties." And the picture implies that upon being reminded that she wasn't to wear underwear today, a woman should just drop 'em and keep walking for the express pleasure and enjoyment of whichever man/men requested it. And that she should obviously be wearing a skirt so short that there is nothing left to the imagination.

Don't get me wrong, not wearing underwear is a personal choice that men and women can indulge in as often or as rarely as they choose. I don't really care to share if and what I wear or what those I encounter throughout my day wear, either. What I find incredibly offensive is that there is a group of men who feel they have the right to get off on knowing, or thinking they know, whether or not a woman is wearing panties. If you aren't close enough to her to watch her dress, assume she has on a chastity belt for heaven's sake. And if there isn't a woman in your life that you watch dress each morning, consider that one very big reason may be because you support and advertise "No Panties" day! And then stop.

One last point - no, women don't care at all about a "No Boxers" or "No Drawers" day, you make your clothing decisions all by yourself like a big boy!

Shattered

Shattered

Smashed

Slivers and shards

All the pieces of my heart

You back away from the ruins

Hammer hanging limply at your side

I can’t tell if you are shocked

Or merely exhausted by the effort

 

My soul is whole

It begins to glow

Shine

Light a new path

And the broken pieces

Join

And heal

What you left as a disaster

Is now a mosaic

Lit from within

Not perfect

But

Beautiful

And strong