Comment on Speaking English.....

So once upon a time I was thinking about going off Diet Coke-frills I was totally going too, but I decided it was ok to drink but just at work. Then McDonald's came out with this fantabulous summer promotion where you could get large drinks for only $1. The reason I support this is two-fold: it's cheaper than what I pay at work (the cafeteria told us that when they raised their drink prices it was ok because they were still cheaper than anywhere else you could buy drinks-ha!) and Diet Coke from McDonald's is SO MUCH BETTER than DC from the cafeteria at my POB. They need to clean their taps because it's not tasting so good. I need to feel the burn and have my eyes water upon drinking-and it's not happening right now.

Another positive aspect McDonald's $1 drink is that they have styrofoam cups for their sweet tea. Now I learned from my mom when I was in Florida that you can request the sweet tea cups for the diet coke. Call me crazy, blame me for being the cause of increased landfills, but I firmly believe diet coke tastes better in a styrofoam cup. Add balled ice and you've got the nectar of the gods.

Now it may sound like requesting the styrofoam cup would be simple-I had no problems doing this in Pocatello or Florida-but in Draper, UT it's like I'm asking for world peace. The problem you may ask? My local McDonald's is full of employees who "no speaka da English"** or are fearful of handing out the styrofoam cups. I shall illustrate my experiences ordering the styrofoam cup in various scenarios:

Scenario #1-I wait in the horrendously long line (it's as if the McDonald's on 123rd South puts catnip in their food because the line is always SO LONG) and pull up to order, "Can I get a large diet coke in a styrofoam cup?" McDonald's Employee, "Um......I'm going to have to check with my manager. Me, "Ummmm.....ok". I get my styrofoam cup but feel like I got away with something I shouldn't have.

Scenario #2-It's lunch time and they've got a ESL (English as a Second Language) employee outside helping expedite orders. Me, "Can I get a large diet coke in a styrofoam cup?" Employee, "..........Large diet coke and chicken?" Me, "No, large diet coke in a styrofoam cup". Employee, "No entiendo" (aka "I don't understand" in Spanish-yes, that's right-I am now speaking Spanish in my own country*) Me,"sty-ro-foam cup-the cups you use for sweet tea". Employee, smiling, "yes, yes ok". I pull forward and get a diet coke in a regular cup. Fortunately for the employee I had just come from the temple and consciously made the decision to not make a scene.

Scenario # 510 (not really but I had a few more mishaps before finally........
Me, "Can I get a large diet coke in a styrofoam up?" Employee, "Oh, you mean the cups we use for the sweet tea?" Me, "Yes, that's exactly what I mean-bless you for understanding, when do you usually work? Can I name my first-born after you?"

Ok, so I may have exaggerated that last part-but it was as if the heavens opened and angels sang as I was handed my diet coke without incident.

The moral of the story-it's a good thing I don't drink alcohol or I would surely be an alcoholic if the ease with which I crave diet coke is any indication. And I appreciate fast-food employees being able to cater to my whims-it may be cheap food but customer service can make you or break you.

**I'm not prejudiced against those who come to America looking for opportunites to make a better life for their families. America is a haven for those looking for peace and prosperity (or at least it's supposed to be). However-if you are going to be here I think English should be learned. I also think you should go through the proper steps to become a citizen. I also think that if people aren't here legally they shouldn't have immediate rights to our government paying for their healthcare. The point is-if I move to another country I wouldn't expect to be there for years and not be able to speak the language. Not trying to be offensive about it all-it's just my opinion afterall-and my blog :)

Comment on relaxation.....

After spending a few hours in my old stomping grounds, I took the long way home to Draper through the hills.

Windows down, sunroof open, DMB's Under The Table and Dreaming playing, and an awesome moon......

I could melt into a puddle of happiness......

Comment on life and death....

Working in an intensive care nursery you know that babies don't always make it-but the difference between knowing death happens and experiencing death with a patient is completely different.

Back in October I experienced my first patient passing away. I cared for this sweet baby for a few months and had grown to love her. When I found out she wasn't going to make it I was completely thrown for a loop. It was expected yet unexpected. I cried a lot. I cried through report, I cried through my shifts with her, I cried at home and was unable to sleep. I cried because of the unjustice of it all, for the pain that she endured, and for the fighter that she is. I cried because of my fear of seeing someone die. The last two nights before she passed all I did was hold her practically unceasingly. When it became obvious that she was leaving us I held her closer and softly and tearfully whispered to her that it was ok for her to go Home, that her Heavenly Father and her elder brother, Jesus Christ, would be waiting for her. She slipped away quietly and was at last at peace.

I, however, was not at peace. I didn't realize how stressful my job was until this point. I slipped into a state of depression and anxiety that was a lot of fun to deal with. I started to have panic attacks when going to work, afraid that I would have to see one of my sweet babies not make it. Luckily through therapy I've been able to start the mending process. Which is good-because working in an intensive care nursery, babies don't always make it.

Earlier this summer I began caring for another patient that I inevitably grew to love in a short period of time. I read over her history and realized that her time on this earth would be short, but it didn't matter. I wanted to make sure that she would feel love during her stay in our unit. I spent many nights holding her and talking to her and rubbing her head which helped calm her down. I took care of her the night before she was discharged to spend time with her family at home-she had a hard day that day and slept most of the night, except for a few short minutes when she opened her eyes and smiled as I talked to her before she fell back to sleep. I'm grateful I've had those moments with her.

I attended her funeral today-my first funeral for a patient. The services were wonderful and filled with love for this sweet baby and her family. I cried through the funeral. I cried because I was able to care for such a sweet baby, I cried because I know that she was brave enough to come to earth and be given a body that was imperfect just so she could be resurrected one day and be able to live eternally with her family and her Heavenly Father, and that I know this and that makes me able to deal with the pain of loss. And I cried because I'm so blessed to work in a place where we experience these hard moments that make the good moments that much better.

And that's why I do what I do. It's not just holding cute babies (like people assume), it's dealing with life and death situations. Sometimes I come home happy and rejuvenated, but more often than not I come home and am utterly exhausted by what's occured. When I realize I've done the best I could and helped these babies feel loved and get the care they need, whether it's a happy ending or not, it's worth it and that's all that matters......

Comment on baby talk....

So I have a question-and it is simply this-what is it with girls baby-talking to their S.O.'s (significant others)? The only reason I bring this up is that I've had friends say they hear it happening, I hear it happening on various dating reality shows (I mean I hear OF it happening, I don't actually watch those shows-no, not me), and then I was a personal witness to it when overhearing the conversation when I was trapped in the room and unable to leave.

This most recent event that I am speaking of completely threw me over the edge when the convo was closed with the words 'eskimo kisses'. Yes, that's right-I said it.

Now don't get me wrong-I'll kind of baby talk to the babies-you know, in the higher pitched voice I guess, but that's a normal reaction when the baby is cute and looking at you. But I have not once baby-talked to a dude I was dating. Ever. Which begs another question-

Do guys actually find this attractive? I wouldn't think so-but what do you readers out there think? I'm really curious....

Comment on a goal not written down is just a wish....

So once upon a time I was all about goal setting. I had all kinds of goals. Go to nursing school, independent study in the NICU, graduate with a decent G.P.A., get job at my current POB, live in Draper, lose the mission weight, enjoy my church calling, make friends in Idaho. I methodically checked every goal off my list.


But amidst all that goal-setting and achieving I forgot to think ahead to the future. Serious goal-setting has fallen by the wayside in favor of prefacing everything with 'someday' or 'next year'.


Hello future, I'm unprepared. Nice to meet you.


As much as I've enjoyed my goal-free-live-by-the-moment existence, it's time to reign it in. I've had some bumps in the road that were unexpected but it's time to hoist myself up by the bootstraps and get back in the game (yes, I just said 'hoist myself up by the bootstraps'-I don't know what that means but it sounds inspiring).

In order to achieve the goals I've set I get to do fun things like practice self-restraint and reintroduce the word 'no' into my vocabulary. After 2 years of doing whatever I've wanted to do this should be interesting but it'll be worth it in the end, right? And seriously, I'm not going to throw a fit like a 2-year-old if I don't get what I want RIGHT NOW.

At least not in public anyway.......

Comment On Purging......

No, not that kind of purging....I hate throwing up remember?

I would make a terrible bulimic.

But when I feel that I have collected a superfluous amount of stuff that causes my closet and/or room to floweth over, I have no problem 'purging'.

(My purge pile-went directly to DI by the way)

Not that I'm much of a collector of things. I was trained early on that things don't matter, and if you're going to buy something buy quality things and treat them well so they'll last a long time. When it comes to my stuff I have a theory that if I haven't worn something for at least a year or if it's been boxed up and I haven't missed it, then it goes. I don't care if it decreases the amount of clothes I have, if i don't wear it it doesn't count anyway. And if it's in a box and I don't even remember I have it-it's not being used anyway. Of course when it comes to journals or the few things I have from my childhood and my mission that goes out the window. Although sometimes I'm tempted to just toss away.

I think it's cathartic to get rid of stuff. As I toss out the old I'm literally getting rid of things that used to define me, to make room for the new person that I am. I feel clean and fresh and ready to move forward instead of wallowing in the past. I learn that I can do more with less and that I feel more complete when I'm able to move about freely in my own space. The feeling of walking into a clean room with everything in it's place is a breath of fresh air. It helps me to enjoy the silence and the peace. It's fantastic.

On a different note-the moose pants were an official casualty of the purge party. So long moose pants......