Back Trouble

I am lying in bed typing this - not because I want to, but because I have to.
I spent the last few beautiful spring days mowing, weeding, planting, digging, cleaning, tugging and lifting. Now I’m paying for it. I felt a little twinge of pain yesterday before I went to work. I really thought that it was no big deal. It progressively got worse however, and before my shift last night was over, I was in the emergency dept, in excruciating pain, unable to straighten up or walk.

So, here I am all drugged up on pain killers and muscle relaxers trying to type and make some sort of sense. My best friend right now is a rice bag that you heat up in the microwave. The bathroom feels like it is a hundred miles away. Getting old is the pits!

Enoch Thweett and I are scheduled to play Saturday night at the Siberia Coffee House. It will take a ton of pain killers and muscle relaxers to just get me up on the stool. I will feel like a real musician - stoned :)

Jesi"s Banquet

I just thought you would enjoy seeing Jesi all dressed up. Friday night was the Junior Senior Banquet at CA. Jesi of course was the prettiest one there.

I'm pretty sure that it's time for Dad to start worrying again.

Peace

My watch told me that I had less than 2 hours before the next shift arrived.
My clip board told me that there was still at least three hours of work to be done. There were several IV medications that needed to be started, blood samples that needed to be collected and send to the lab, not to mention all the paperwork which at this point was woefully behind. However, I was still calm, “No need to panic yet” I thought, “I just need to pick up the pace a little bit – I can still make it.”

It was then that the overhead pager crackled and rudely blurted out those two dreaded words: “CODE BLUE” Those words make everyone stop. A nurse’s priorities automatically change at the announcement of those words. Someone is dying - everything else can wait - even the next shift.

I didn’t know his name but I could tell from the minute that I ran down the stairs and into his room that the outcome would probably not be good. He was an elderly white man who had obviously been sick for awhile. His pale limp body showed the marks of years of sincere but futile medical intervention.

I don’t want to be morbid here, but you must understand that CPR is not pretty. It is very violent. Ribs break, fluids fly.….you get the picture. The room turns into a battle zone. There are doctors yelling, nurses running, equipment banging, and monitors alarming – it is controlled chaos.

With that much energy and intensity flowing stopping is not easy. Giving up is never pleasant. But, the family had decided that it was best. It was time to let go and accept the inevitable. So we stopped. The room which only seconds ago was literally erupting, was now quiet and still.

This is something that I have experienced many times. I used to try and remember and keep track of all the souls that I watched slip off into eternity, but the number and faces just became too large. But this one I will remember.

When the doctor said stop, I stopped. I stopped compressing a now soft and broken chest. I was by default the closest one to the patient. At this point in most cases (every other case I have ever seen) the patient’s eyes are dull, fixed, and glazed - but not this time. I had been watching the monitor. As the last few blips were fading away I looked down at the patient’s face. He was looking at me. His eyes were bright and focused very much alive.

I don’t know how I knew, I just did. I could see it. His eyes were not filled with desperation or fear or pain. They were filled with softness and peace. I heard it plainly – as plainly as if the words had actually been spoken. He told me he was ok. He was ready to go. He appreciated my gallant efforts but the angels were there now and they were waiting. He told me that he would see me again someday soon.
I told him that I was looking forward to it. Then I closed his eyes.

Even though I walk
through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil,
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff,
they comfort me.

The Newest Family Member

Here is Tyler and Emily Klair with our newest addition. She is a 9 week old Golden Retriever.
Kinsley and Karlie were not so sure about her so they would not get in the picture.
She still doesnt have a name because Jesi and Krysi can't agree on anything. So, we are still open to suggestions. By the way, she is the calmest and quietest puppy I have ever been around. (I am sure she will grow out of it) Please help us name this puppy.. :)
Warren says we should call her Pee Diddy.

What Really Matters?

I admit, I’m a slow learner. Not only slow, but I have this terrible tendency to have to relearn the same lessons over and over again before they finally stick in my little brain..

If you are a regular reader of this blog, and ever follow any of its church links, then I am sure that you are aware of the great religious debate that’s been rearing its ugly head and grinding its crooked teeth over the last week. I was hooked.

I spent (wasted) a lot of time thinking about the arguments, and being appalled by some of the arguers. So much so, that I even spent my break time at work on the computer answering and arguing and becoming one of the worst offenders.

I was right in the middle of typing a brilliant, impassioned, indisputable counter point when it happened. The monitor behind me started to alarm. I had been expecting it.

We had, to put it in layman’s terms, “pulled the plug” on a terminally ill patient earlier in my shift. I was on “death watch”. My job was to monitor the patient and keep them as comfortable as possible until their last breath. The alarm told me that their last breath was very close.

The patient had been unresponsive most of my shift. There was no opportunity for final words or last conversations. The family was one hour away, and this poor soul only had 20 minutes. So it was just me and him.

As I stood by his bed with my hand on his shoulder, I wondered; if I could talk to this fellow one last time, and talk about the things that really matter, what would we talk about?

I know that we would talk about love, family, God, an empty tomb, the promise of eternal life, and the wonderful gift of grace that Jesus purchased for us by his sacrifice on the cross.
I am sure that we would talk about regrets, then forgiveness, and finally, peace - eternal peace.

It made the rest seem so small. It made the religious arguments over just “how to do church” seem almost sacrilegious and sinful.

So the next time I get sucked into my favorite vice (arguing over religion) I plan on applying the “death watch” test to my replies. Does this really matter? Is it important enough to include in someone’s last conversation? If not, I’m going to try my best to, in the words of Paul (McCartney) Let it Be..

An Easter Story

It took 15 staples to patch Tyler's head back together after being mauled by a large neighborhood dog Saturday. He is a very brave little man with lots of angels looking after him. The dog was huge Alaskan Husky that outweighed Tyler by about two to one. It could have easily have been a very tragic Easter, But God was merciful, and we are all very thankful.

Pa and his angels

Please..Anything But Politics!

I consider myself very apolitical. It’s not that I don’t care – in the end I do my patriotic duty and vote for the candidate I feel most closely reflects my ideals – but this whole election process bores me to tears. (And it’s only March)

I wish that someone would simply publish a check list of the candidate’s views, and a record of how he or she has voted on key issues in the past, and let people vote for the one that they agree with.

The debates are especially disturbing to me. Two smiling candidates on stage – representing the same party – supposedly on the same political side – arguing and tearing each other down – even resorting to name calling and personal attacks - trying to prove that they alone are the “real” Democrat or Republican, and their opponents are just impostors. Sounds too much like the religion of my youth….

One political story that I do find interesting this year is the one about the racist and separatist remarks made by Barack Oboma’s Pastor, Dr. Jeremiah Wright. I’m sure that his sermons were not intended to be political. They were not designed for public consumption. I suspect that they were just typical Sunday morning fodder that his congregation was very used to being fed.

The interesting part is going to be watching Mr. Oboma try to avoid stepping into this political pooh and distance himself from the racist views of his church. How can he publicly denounce his pastor’s views and still save face with his congregation? After the election, win or lose, will he be able to sit quietly in the pews of that church again on a Sunday morning and listen to this racist rhetoric? I don’t know. But, if he does, then I suspect that he never really disagreed with Dr. Wright in the first place. Time will tell.


Footnote: I just finished listening to Obama's speech answering to the controversy about his connection with and his allegiance to Dr Wright. I must say I was genuinely impressed. He seemed very straight forward and honest and didn't do a lot of side stepping. One interesting quote was "the most segregated time in America is the one hour on Sunday morning when we all go to church". We can't deny that he's right on that one.