Resolute

I rolled in sort of late from another night of speed dating with my hospice patients.  It could have been worse but as I'm finding is typical for a holiday eve, it was bad enough.  One death, one start of care and one pain pump problem.  The drives were far between too.  I was getting pretty frustrated running all over town when I started wondering why.  Why was I frustrated?  I pulled over to make a couple of calls when it dawned on me I hadn't eaten.  I was starving and my blood sugar was somewhere in the abyss.  I tried to remember my last good meal, and I think it was Monday.  I'm pretty bad at keeping resolutions, but from this point on, I'm promising myself that I WILL eat a decent meal before I hit the road.  This will probably help the coping skills immensely.

I was taking stock of my accomplishments recently.  I made a major job change.  That's huge by anyone's standards.  I think I'm acclimating fairly well and my back is tremendously better.  I only hurt now when I clean the house.  Ha!  Maybe I should quit that job too.  My work resolution will be to stop making myself nuts and being a perfectionist.  I really need to set some limits.  If I don't, I'll be doing nothing but working.

On the knitting front, although it doesn't seem like it to me, I was prolific with those needles!  I finished 2 sweaters. So one was a baby sweater, so what?  It's still done.  Also included are the following:  an afghan, 5 pairs of socks and 4 pair that don't have mates (yet), 3 moebius shawls, 3 hats, 1 pair of thrummed mittens and 1 pair of plain ones, a tank top, a felted purse, 2 noro purses, 1 clapotis, 1 scarf, and a partridge in a pair tree.  Wow.  I didn't include anything I started but haven't yet finished.  I really need to keep better track.  The thing is, I give a lot of stuff away then don't realize how much I really accomplished.   If I were wise, I'd start a projects sidebar.  I don't update my ravelry projects page though so I don't know what makes me think I'd update a sidebar.  Anyways, keeping track is not my resolution for my knitting.  A yarn diet is.  My sister gave me a lovely sweater for Christmas.  She told me after reading my post about organizing my stash, there was no way she would contribute to that insanity.  You know, I've NEVER seen her leave a yarn store empty handed-and she intimated I have an issue. Still, it's possible she may be a teensy bit correct about that.  From this point forward, unless I need it to finish a project when I've run out of yarn, I'll not buy anything new until, oh say March.  That sounds good to me.  I usually don't go more than 2 weeks without stash enhancement so that'll be major for me.  Oh, who am I kidding?  Do you think Vegas would give odds on how long I can hold out?

I hope you all have a fabulous 2009.  Thanks for taking the time to read this and for your comments.  This really is quite a wonderful community of people I've discovered.

Thirteen

Yesterday, deep in denial that my weekend was over, I sat knitting the matching sock to the spruce colored pair. I flicked through the channels and came upon Antonio Banderas as The 13th Warrior in the movie based on Michael Chrichton's book, Eaters of the Dead. A favorite. I watched the movie (again) while knitting away. I got to thinking that there wasn't much Crichton wrote that I didn't like. His books, usually ahead of their times, were always thought provoking and often, down right frightening.

In 1993, I saw the movie Jurassic Park. Though too scary for my six year old son, I saw it twice. By 1997, The Lost World was in theaters and he saw the video release of the first movie and then went and saw the sequel. My son was thrilled. I remember telling him that if the movies thrilled him, the books were sure to scare him half to death. I made a promise to save those books for him to read when he felt ready. He hasn't taken the challenge, but the books are still here. Truth is, I own a lot of what Michael Crichton wrote.

I recall reading Jurassic Park while pregnant with the Rachelheimster (she of many names). I had nightmares about dinosaurs chasing me through an endless jungle. I dreamt, in desperation I laid my newborn baby in a nest with eggs.  Duh.  I had to hide her from the velociraptors.  Double duh.  Movies don't do this to me-sure they make me uneasy but not like books do. Especially Crichton's books. Reading makes me imagine I'm the one who is stuck deep within the plot. I had horrible nightmares about a certain horse's head when I read Mario Puzo's book, The Godfather. I still think that book was a thousand times better than movies 1, 2 or especially, 3.

I know it's been two months now since he died, but I have to say, it saddens me to know I won't be able to read new books from Michael Crichton. I miss Robert Ludlum the same way. I don't even need to look up the year Ludlum died, it was the same year my dad did. Certain authors do that to me. Someone else is writing Robert Ludlums books these days. Don't be fooled. It isn't that he's come back to entertain us-it's all to line the pockets of someone else. I hope the same thing doesn't happen with Chricton's books. He was a prolific writer and had a brilliant mind that I'm pretty certain none can match.

It's been years since I read Eaters of the Dead, but I think it's time to take it on again. Maybe I'll make this the year I reread The Andromeda Strain too. As for Jurassic Park, I feel no particular need to go there again anytime soon.  In fact, once may have been enough.

Underrated

I don't ski, ice skate, ice fish or own a snowmobile. There isn't much for me to do when it turns bitterly cold. I've dug deep though and found several things that make winter worthwhile to me. Two of them I picture here, the rest, you'll just have to imagine.

I think there is nothing like the pristine look of a reasonable amount of fresh snow. I love the brightness of the sky and the silence of a blizzard that strikes in the middle of the night. The sky is so bright, it seems like day.


Winter cold gives my body a break from the almost constant hot flashes I experience in summer. I can wear my woolen hand knits and work with a big blob of wool without feeling wilted. I have to stop a moment in appreciation. I like that I don't have to really think about it, but I did today. I was walking through an outdoor mall when I saw a woman wearing a full length fur coat. My first thought was that she must be hot. It was 46 F out there. My second thought was she was nuts-why? Besides pretending she was in Aspen, what's the point? I'd have been having hot flashes had I been clothed in that.

A huge roaring fire (in the fireplace) is so peaceful to me. I love the sound of the wood crackling as it burns and the warmth the fire gives to the room. If there is a blizzard at the same time, and knitting or a good book in my lap, I'm in heaven.

To me, oranges are the single most underrated item found in winter. Big, beautiful and juicy California oranges. I know we can get oranges year round-but not the enormous navel oranges that come from California. This alone makes winter worthwhile. I bought a bag of the giant beauties. They're more tasty than consuming Airborne by the gallons; I'm hoping they ward off the flu bug that has descended upon my home. That and a little holy water should do the job.

I can't be alone with these thoughts about winter. What do you like best about this time of year?

In With the New

I've been homebound this weekend with Rachel. Our regular caregiver is off, the hubby is ill and in bed, so it's just me, the Rachmeister, Dukealicious and not a little yarn. With the exception of having to listen to moans from the sickbed, it hasn't been too bad a weekend. I think we had some weather problems last night, but it appears I slept through them. I have one evergreen tree lying on its side and my alarm clock is flashing so I think we lost power. Who knew? My feet were cold last night so before I went to bed, I cast on socks with a skein of Bearfoot in Spruce. My feet are still cold but we're getting there. One day, I'll learn to knit socks in super bulky wool if I need them fast.

I've been perusing one of the gifts I received for Christmas. I got Nicky Epstein's book Knitting on the Edge. Love. It. A big thank you to my sister in law. I'm totally snagging the ruffled seed stitch pattern to do the cuffs of my daughter's green sweater. I think it'll be prettier than the flat seed stitch. This book is full of inspiration. There are edgings knit from the top down, knit from the bottom up, and borders picked up and knit sideways. The entire book is chock full of finishing techniques for the knitter. Most of what I've looked at, I'm convinced I can do. One thing led to another and I'm pretty sure I'm going to take on a huge project with a beautiful edge in mind. I'm finally going to knit the Great American Aran Afghan for myself.

I bought the pattern book awhile ago but found it overwhelming. It's daunting, but done in 12 x 12 inch blocks, it shouldn't be too bad until it's time to put it together and do the edging. This book has totally inspired me to take that project on. I'm considering doing the entire thing in Debbie Bliss Cashmerino Aran. It's such beautiful yarn for what is sure to be a treasured family heirloom. Maybe I'll use Cascade 220 in superwash so it'll be easy to clean. There are plenty of pictures on google images that show this afghan done in every color under the sun-some all in the same afghan, but I think I like the idea of a solid cream colored afghan. This way, the stitch patterns are the stars of the show, and not the flashy colors. I'm not completely convinced I'll use the afghan pattern book either. I may just do blocks using my stitch dictionaries. It's not like I don't have enough of those to glean from.

So here is the goal: one block a month until 12 are done. This time next year, I should be contemplating the border. I'll get right on it-just as soon as I finish the second sock. Winter makes one contemplate a different kind of sock wars, one where feet armoured in wool are the ones that survive.

My left foot is very toasty...

Testardo

Italian for stubborn. 

Forty eight hours from onset of the flu is the time frame in which to take the antiviral medication tamiflu.  It shortens the duration of flu like symptoms for most who take it, and it can prevent the worst of symptoms from becoming life threatening.

Friday, my husband called the doctor but gave up right there when the office was closed.  Now the health system I work for has a dozen urgent care centers open until 10 PM for those who can't wait for the doctor to open the office on Monday.  He didn't go.  When he left the house Saturday, presumably going to the clinic,  he returned in 30 minutes and said the doctor told him it was a virus.  His window for tamiflu was closing and I knew he was lying about having gone to the clinic-he was home too fast.  I've done all I can to make him see reason.  Today, he awakened feeling worse and I begged him to go.  He said he did, but he failed the quiz:

Nurse Rudee:  "What did the doctor say?"

Sick Husband:  "He said I have a virus."

NR:  "Duh. Did he swab your throat?"

SH:  "Yeah-it was negative for flu."

NR: "Really?  I find that hard to believe."

SH:  "Why would I lie?"

NR:  "How did they swab it?"

Lying Husband:  "They stuck a swab down my throat."

Oh the lies.  He didn't go-or he did and was disgusted by the line to see the doctor and left.  A flu swab goes down the nose to the back of the throat.  A nasopharyngeal swab.  Don't lie to the health care provider.  We have radar for the lies.  I'd have thought he would do anything to get a little better.  I was wrong.  He won't wait in line with the rest of the planet.  He'd rather die and make us all suffer in the interim. 

If it wasn't so tasty, I'd pour that whole pot of homemade chicken soup down the drain just for lying to me.  As it is, it may be the only cure left to him.

Perhaps Gladys Upham said it best:  "talking with a man is like trying to saddle a cow.  You work like hell, but what's the point?"

Bedside Manner

It's hard to be a good nurse when I can't get a break from the sick.  I'm plum out of good will this week-ever since my husband came home from work on Christmas day-sick as hell.  It wouldn't be so bad if he'd follow advice:

Take ibuprofen.

Drink lots of fluids.

Take vitamin c.

Go to bed.

Drink lots of fluids.

Cover your mouth.

Take ibuprofen.

Go to the doctor.

Antibiotics don't fix viral infections.

Advil cold and sinus has the same amount of pseudoephedrine as Tylenol cold and sinus.  The only difference is the analgesic.  I am not a liar.  

I am too a good nurse.

Do you want some soup?

The thermometer goes under your tongue-not in between your teeth.

A stiff neck is not good!  GO TO THE DOCTOR.

I do too care if you're dying.

Now drink some fluids.

Honey, google the symptoms of meningitis.

GO TO THE DOCTOR.

Do you want a cuppa tea?

If you feel hot, it may help to take off a few of those layers of fleece and flannel.

You need to drink to drown those germs.

You need IV fluids.  Go to urgent care.

You ache because you have the flu.  Now is it really necessary for you to be coughing in here when you could be in bed sparing the rest of us from inhaling your viral particles?  Dear, the communal family room is not a good spot for a sickroom. 

You know honey, people can die from bad viral infections.  Maybe you should GO TO THE DOCTOR.

I am not an MD.  I am an RN.  I have no prescriptive powers and I don't know hundreds of docs willing to call in a script without seeing you.

You know honey, urgent care is cheaper than the ER.

Dear, do you think you could stop talking now.  You should give those complaints vocal cords a rest.

I'm trying really hard to channel my inner Nightengale but I'm failing miserably.  Sheesh, when will the night shift get here?  

True Confession

I secretly adore most of the music of Abba.  I mean, what girl doesn't like the song Dancing Queen?  Now that you know, can you believe that before Christmas Eve, I'd never seen the play (nor the movie) that highlights their music?

I worked all night Christmas Eve.  My daughter and I had hoped to go to Midnight Mass, but by the time I got home from work, it was long over.  I gave her Mamma Mia! as an early Christmas gift and we sat down to be entertained.  Let's just say, I have a brand new appreciation for Meryl Streep, Christine Baranski and especially, Julie Waters.  Even Pierce Brosnan gets another nod.

If you're like me and haven't seen this movie, get thee to Blockbusters.  Better yet, buy it.  It's sure to go into that stack of movies you pull out on rainy and blue days.