Flowers, Tomatos, Worms and Men

Those who know me well will certainly tell you that it is dangerous to ask me about my garden, children or chickens. You will receive much more information that you ever really wanted!

Today, I will try to edit myself.

My favorite flower to grow is the Hydrangea. They are tremendous amounts of fun because you can manipulate the color of the flower just by what you add to the soil to change its acidity. I have tried for years to do the same thing with a man that I have given my life to- but unfortunately, the man you marry is the man you get.  No matter what you add to a man his true colors stay true. There is no manipulating the man to change.

Here is my favorite blue.

I also have a love of growing vegetables, especially tomatoes. Every type of  tomato modern and heirloom and ranging in size from the tiny cherry tomatoes to the huge Beefsteak varieties. They are perfectly easy for anyone to grow because they thrive on abuse. If you water or fertilize too much, you will only get a big, beautiful, green plant. The tomato plants must believe that it is going to die before it will produce lots of fruit.

The proper care of the tomato plant can  easily be compared to successful care of  a husband. Men also thrive on abuse and will flourish if treated harshly and made to tow the line. If the gardener-wife pays too much attention and applies too much fertilizer to her man, he will grow to be huge and produce very little fruit.

The tomato plant has very few predators but, there is one which can prove deadly to the tomato plant if left unchecked. The Tomato Hornworm. This worm and I are mortal enemies. The evil worm is green and fat and has faux eyes running down both sides of  the length of their bodies. If the gardener attempts to pull them from the plant, they spit green liquid all over you. I personally enjoy pulling them from the plants (with gloves on of course) and throwing them to my laying hens while muttering, “Spit on me will ya”!, followed, of course by evil laughter!

A wife can also compare these pests to the predators of men who might prey on your husbands. While the shiny green Japanese Beetle females prefer to dine on more exotic fare, The tomato horn-worm woman with her fake eyeballs and suction cup feet will be happy to dine on your man no matter how large or how little he produces! She will not hesitate to spit green juice on you in a second! So, heed my warning all of you garden loving wives and  inspect your big, green, lush man just as often as you would the spindly well producing man, often and throw any of the suspected  parasites found to the chickens.

The evil devil woman worm

Like I said, ask me about my garden and you will receive way too much information!

Adventures in Nursing, the Good, Bad, and Ugly.

I made the decision to become a nurse to satisfy a deep need to benefit mankind, to do God’s work and quite honestly, to satisfy a deep desire to be needed. My children were of the age that they did not want to be “mothered” anymore so, I took myself to nursing school and studied like a fiend. I was determined to be the best nurse possible and show all those little 20 somethings in the desks next to me that an old dog of almost 40 years of age could still learn new tricks. I was driven to prove to the world that giving birth to my sons may have ruined my body but not my brain!

I loved immersing myself in the scientific nurse information  that was being shoved in my face continuously by my dedicated instructors. (I purposely chose not to use the phrase “spoon fed” because it would be terribly misleading). Nursing school is the place to use the phrase Get in, sit down, fasten your seat belt and try to enjoy the ride without throwing up. (I think that I only threw up once).

I made it though school and passed the dreaded NCLEX test and was full of hope and excitement to begin my new job as a staff nurse. I had my white nurse shoes and my halo and my angel’s wings, and my nursing license and I was ready to heal the world.  I did not mind at all emptying urinals, getting those warm blankets, making sure the family got a hug when they cried.  I loved leaving my shift each night feeling as though I made the world a better place in some tiny little way.

BUT then, reality set in. It began with my first student loan statement. I think that I said out loud, “They want me to pay what? Do they realize what a new nurse makes?”

Then came the realization that nurses are expected to document EVERYTHING that we do. I had an ah ha moment when it dawned on me that my nursing instructors really meant it when they said…over and over again….”if it is not charted then it wasn’t done”.  Patients will never understand the panic that nurses feel when you tell us that you  peed in the toilet and not in the container provided! It is as if you never peed! Now you will have to drink before the end of my shift, you MUST pee before the end of my shift and I have to see it! I cannot leave here until you have peed and I can prove it in millilitres on your chart!

Another goal of a good nurse is to make each patient feel as if they are the only one. That is, until you get the patient who really believes this and calls you into the room repeatedly to “fluff their pillow”. (I am NOT exaggerating! This really happens!) The good nurse fluffs, smiles, asks if there is anything else that is needed and goes back to the patient who is vomiting or is in pain and really needs help.

Unfortunately, it is the family of the nurse who suffers the frustration of the over utilized nurse. Families, please understand when we act as though we could care less that you have a bellyache and please understand when we tell you to go sit on the toilet and it will go away. We really truly do care and will spring into action if you begin to bleed from any orifice.

It has been a few years now and my diploma is dusty, my nurses wings tattered and halo is askew but I am still in love with the nursing profession. I am, and always will be a healer and as long as we nurses remember to care for each other as well as for ourselves, we will be able to continue to cherish the thank you s, and the hugs from our patients and continue to smile as we fluff those pillows.