My Dad Smoked Weed and That Makes Me Happy

My dad recently passed away unexpectedly. While going through his belongings, we found a pipe. It was made of wood and had been sanded and polished…it was SO him! So I smiled. At the thought of my dad high, with the giggles or devouring a pizza because of munchies.

Let me be clear, we do not live in a state where marijuana is legal. Nor do I or my husband smoke weed. However, being in healthcare I cannot deny the medical benefits of weed. One of those being treatment for PTSD. While it is sometimes consider an antidotal symptom relief, I’m ok with that. Because my dad suffered from PTSD related to the Vietnam war and he felt relief from weed….at least I assume that’s why he was a pothead. 

He suffered. From the day he stepped on American soil again, my dad suffered daily. He remembered being in a vehicle that backed over a little boy who was shooting at them. He remembered the man next to him loosing both legs (and likely his life) to an attack. He remembered a pallet of live ammunition being dropped on his hand and everyone thinking it would explode before they could get it off of him…with a crane. He remembered being flown to a hospital after that and staying there for a week and then being sent…..right back to war. For 3 days shy of one year, my dad spent every day and night of his life, under fire. He once told my brother, “they were shooting at us as we were landing and getting off the plane.” 

And it never stopped.

My dad didn’t leave Vietnam the same. None of them did. It should be assumed they all have PTSD. People coming home from war should just be seperated into two groups: those with PTSD and those who are “in denial about having PTSD and will be diagnosed at a later date.”

So light one up for me, up there daddy! I’m so glad your pain is gone!

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Steals My Heart

Those girls of mine. Gaw, cuddling on the couch in swimsuits, reading books to themselves.  

Could they be more precious? I’m having one of those days where I realize how great I have it. Have those days. Make yourself do it. 

Appreciate every time they use their inside voice when they would normally scream. 

Appreciate that they washed their hands after peeing without being reminded.

Appreciate your job or your spouses job that provides for your family.

Too many days have gone by me where I didn’t take the chance to acknowledge how some people dream about having a life like mine. Children like I have. And a husband who provides. I’m lucky and I appreciate it.

Dance Moms vs Stage Moms

My 8 yo had her acting debut yesterday. She played the part of Bashful from Snow White and The Seven Dwarfs. 

Guess how much hair and makeup I had to do, fellow dance moms. NONE! That’s right! I dropped her off at the theater and by magic, she appeared on stage in costume with her hair and makeup done!!

So for those of you who have become stage moms, you have no idea how wonderful you have it! I applaud your brilliance! Because if we were not six years deep into dance, I’d be campaigning for a switch from the studio to the stage! 

Sissy et al. In costume minus her big beard.   

Sissy et al. Performing whenever there’s a camera on her  

Watching Children Die

So New Grad, You Want to go into Pediatric Nursing?

You’re good with kids? You babysat a lot when you were younger? You aced you pediatric rotation? While all that seems like perfect candidate material for pediatrics, you’re likely missing a huge pediatric nursing (mostly acute care) experience. 

Watching children die.

Can you watch children die? From cancer, from car accidents, from accident gunshots, from random blood disorders, from strokes, from complications of chronic diseases, at the hands of their parents or caregivers, from anything under the sun and then some. 

While all pediatric nurses are not expected to experience these type of events routinely, you kind of are. And while all pediatric nurses are not expected to experience these things and not be phased by them, you kind of are. What makes a good pediatric nurse is knowing when to hug to mom, when to let the family watch the code so they see you’ve tried everything, when to shut off the monitor in the patients room.

“Nurse Her et al., can I take my trains to heaven with me when I go to be angel?”

He was four, cancer, and facing his reality that he would soon pass away. My job as his nurse was to help ease his passing for him. To give a four year old peace of mind knowing he is terminal, isn’t an experience anyone gets use to. And it stays with you. 

This was over ten years ago and I can still remember everything. The smell of alcohol wipes, his pulse ox beeping because of the tourniquet, the whispering med students right outside his door. 

In my opinion, a perfect pedi nurse would be all of the above plus a person who doesn’t want children of their own. I don’t know how many times my children have reminded me of a child I’ve cared for who had passed. And that connection is terrifying. It could be a look they give me or an ailment they’re telling me about, it makes me think back to time I’d love to forget about. 

I’d like all nurses wanting to go into pediatrics to know that you are not going to be playing with kids. Their happy times are anything where nurses are not and you will rarely have time to play. 

Six Pack-Coming Soon to Her et al.

I mentioned in an earlier post about my current workout routine. Click for current workout. And I’ve also mentioned how I am happy being me now and my struggle to get here. Click for fat and happy.

Today my 2 year old started gymnastics. I am embarrassingly sore from her mommy and me class. 

Additionally, the brain behind “mommy and me” classes is a sadist. Let me get this straight. I pay you to let me chase my kid around your building? Who would be stupid enough to fall for that?

Oh…