Oh Sunday Morning

(1100) I woke up. My day is shot. I don't feel like doing anything already. I had resolved to be less lazy. It's not working today, because it is Sunday morning. I just put on my hospital gown Snuggie and decided to read a blog about a sad man who feels numb.

Maybe I feel numb sometimes. There are few people in my life that I can truly rely on. Even fewer of those people are in the same area code as me. No one really cares deeply. If I called someone at 0400 to come pick me up somewhere, who would come?

It's a shame to feel this way at the beginning of the day.

"It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah"

Today is the day we celebrate the baby's short life. I'm unable to attend the calling hours, but I'm thinking of the family all day.

It's an odd thing to think about, really, the death of an infant. It doesn't seem like death is supposed to be a part of an infant's life. Death is a part of life for someone older. Not even that old, even 20 years old. At least at 20, it seems like a natural progression. We grow and grow and grow until we're done growing, and then what's left? Death. But with a baby, he's just begun growing. His life started as one cell, joined with a second. And division and multiplication took place and now he's a million little cells. Little cells with years left of dividing and multiplying. Some of his bones aren't even hard yet. His hair isn't real hair yet. His eyes aren't even able to see further than a few inches away. The natural progression would be for his bones to form, his hair to coarsen, and his eyes to focus. Not for him to die without even experiencing the warmth of his own home.

It's fun to think about what Anthony's personality would be like. Would he be quiet and studious? Outgoing and a class clown? An athletic do-gooder? Or like his father, on a mission to spread the word of God? We'll never know, but I'm sure Christen and Anthony will always wonder what life would be like if their other children had an older brother. It's a shame he never got to grow up. I hope they heal quickly. And know they're lucky to have met such an amazing person; a person with, yes, a short life, but a strong one. Blessings to everyone who was touched by Anthony's story.

2011: A Bier in Review

I spent this past weekend visiting my good friend Sarah in Michigan. She lives about an hour away from Detroit, and who knew it but Michigan is known for its microbrews! So, we spent most of our time being beer advocates (BAs, otherwise known as badasses).

The first night we hung out with a baker's dozen of engineers at a brewery called Dragonmead, located in Warren, MI. It was not at all what I expected. Very un-Medieval, aside from some armor and artwork on the walls. No jousting. There was an acoustic singer named Julianne who was not at all worth my attention.  Almost immediately we were bombarded with rules: No moving tables. No splitting checks. No tip less than 20%. Blah blah blah. We were given a free basket of pretzels with mustard, which was good, but we had to ask at least 3 or 4 times before we got a refill. My engineer friends also were snubbed when asking for a refill on a beverage. I'm not sure if it was cool or uncool, but there's no real food at Dragonmead, but you can order take-out or bring in any food you want. I did, however, enjoy the sampler. Five six-ounce samples of any of their ~40 of their own microbrews on tap. I opted for the Final Absolution Belgian style trippel, Lancelot's cream ale, Ring of Fire, Bishop Bob's Holy Smoke rauchbier, and the Crown Jewels IPA. The Final Absolution was their signature, which I can see why. Smooth, malty, with some good spices going on. The Ring of Fire was spiced with jalapeno peppers, and although I love spicy foods, I could barely stomach six ounces. Not a good burping beer at all! The rauchbier was disappointing in that it was barely smoky in flavor. I was expecting a Virginia ham flavor, as I've seen with rauchbiers in Germany. I loved the IPA, naturally, and the cream ale was a good balance to the Ring of Fire. I was also able to sample some of Doug's Crooked Door amber ale (aka Gryffendor amber ale), which may be a beverage I would drink a lot of. Although the service was severely lacking, it definitely had a few good flavors. I'm not sure I would visit there again, though.

The next day, we made our way to Little Bavaria - Frankenmuth! I was very excited as soon as I saw the blue and white flags on the houses! We first stopped at Sullivan's Black Forest Brew Haus.

We were confused that a German community would have an Irish sports bar, that felt like a family restaurant that Gram and Gramp loved to frequent after Sunday church. I would never guess it was a brewery from the looks of things. However, we did see several awards for the beers. Mind you, they were pre-2006, and since then the brewery obtained a new brewmaster. We had high hopes, anyway. Their sampler was stupendous. About 10 five-ounce samples for $12. Every porter and stout severely disappointed me. I did enjoy the Grateful Red amber ale. Apparently everything else, however, wasn't that impressive because I can't remember anything else! We ate some nachos and fish sandwiches (their famous fish sandwiches!) then headed across the street to Bronner's humoungous Christmas warehouse!!! I'm still overwhelmed. I can't even think about the amount of lights and ornaments and holiday cheer we saw.

Afterwards, we went a few miles up the road to Frankenmuth Brewery. One of my favorite places now! We were greeted with airhead blonde girls who were somehow able to find Justin, an eighteen year old busboy to give us a tour of the brewery. He explained the brewing process and we were able to see where every step of their microbrewing process takes place, except for fermenting. Very cool! Justin's favorite drink? Root beer. I promised I wouldn't tell anyone what his real favorite beverage is...he's only eighteen! We grabbed a table and ordered the sampler and munched on some amazing pretzel breadsticks with homemade mustard. The beers were: Hefeweizen, Munich Dunkel, English IPA, Pilsner, Red Sky Ale, Winter bock, and a porter. My favorite hands-down was the Red Sky amber. Clean and caramel-y. I had another. After some delicious pizza, we had full bellies!

My favorite brewery in Michigan so far is Frankenmuth by a landslide! Highly recommended. Good beer. Good food. Good people.

Good night!!

Lullabye

My mom was married and pregnant before she even hit her 20th birthday. She somehow got enough courage and strength to leave a very bad situation and move in to an old apartment in a bad neighborhood with her sister; the two of them cared for my oldest sister, Janet. Janet is 14 years older than me. My mom soon became friends with a young woman down the hall named Joy.

I've known Joy since the day I was born. Joy's daughters, Desiree, Christen, and Lindsay, were like my sisters growing up. Desiree was older and babysat Christa and I. Christen and Lindsay were close to Christa's and my age. Lindsay is getting married this year, and Christen was due for her baby to arrive in February of this year.

I feel so bad, because I was unable to make it to Christen's baby shower. She sent a thank you card for the cute clothes. The card said she was going to bring little baby Anthony home in the outfit my mom picked out.

I got a voice mail from my mom. She sounded sad, like she'd been crying. I called her back and heard the bad news. Christen went in for a routine check-up, only to find no heartbeat. She was emergently prepped for Cesarean and gave birth to a beautiful baby boy, weighing just under 7 pounds. He was perfect, except that his little lungs weren't expanding, nor his heart contracting. No blood flow to his little brain, a brain that might someday rule the world.

"Code Pink."

It was over a day later that Christen and her husband Anthony found out that little Anthony had to be resuscitated and placed on a ventilator.

Now, it's up to prayers and miracles to get him better. So he can hear his first lullabye.

Pray for Anthony and Christen's baby

To be a bachelorette

I worked 12 hours today. I'm not doing laundry. And I ate popcorn and coconut cream pie (sugar-free) for dinner. To bed.

I think I'm going to write about something EPIC

Every year, Lake Superior State University makes a list of words or phrases that need to be banned, due to over use, misuse, or uselessness. (Go ahead and google "banned words list 2010"). One of the top words is epic. I think the first time I personally used epic was in describing the New Year's Eve party I attended 2009 into 2010. The party really was epic. My friends and I still talk about it today.

But last night was also pretty darn epic. Here's the back story. I visited my friends Andrea and Bryan for one "last hurrah" before my BFF Andrea has to go back to school on Monday. I spent the entire day lounging and talking with Andrea; we even cooked up some fabulous root vegetable chips (OK, so they were a little "overdone," but good nonetheless). A couple rounds of Pictionary with the three of us, several beverages consumed, and I'd say it was an epic event. We even had a few a-ha moments. Andrea and I were hoping Bryan would call off work today, but he decided to man-up and go into work. Andrea and I are feeling horrible right now (Fail!) Regardless, I really felt that we were living life to the fullest last night.

Anyway, my dream of this blog going viral isn't working out exactly as I had planned. I guess I need to facebook it more.

I'm just sayin'...

Falafel sandwich for lunch!

VIP

We call the port where we infuse medications on the Swan-Ganz catheter "the VIP." To be honest, I had no idea why it was called that. My rationale was always something about how the medications we were infusing were really imperative to the patient's survival. Funny that I've always wondered why, but I never mustered up the effort to learning why. 


My patient today may be considered "VIP" to some people. But I can honestly say, he was not treated any differently, because, as cliche as it sounds, "Every life deserves world-class care." I full-heartedly agree. Let me let you in on a little secret. Sometimes, there are some nurses that get annoyed with a patient's family members. They may not withhold care, but I think their care suffers a little bit. But we have to take a step back and think, "This is her mom." There's a patient in the unit that reminds me of my mom, and that freaks me out a lot. My mom would most certainly be VIP. And I would hope that her nurses treated her as such. Just because my mom isn't a millionaire, or a world famous neurosurgeon, or an actress, or a politician, or a member of royalty, doesn't mean that she shouldn't be treated as such. She gave me all her money. She helped me develop my personality. She was Emmy-deserving every Mother's Day as she proudly wore her macaroni necklace. She solved all worldly conflicts, at least between my sisters and I. And she was and is the matriarch. VIP indeed. 


My best friend just texted me. "Can you keep a secret? We hit the mega millions!!!!!!!" (I guess I can't keep a secret). Regardless, does this make her more important?? 


We're all humans. We all have the same basic human rights. Not one person is better than another. Therefore, we should accept each others' faults and weaknesses as just another aspect of our make-up. 


Oh, and it's venous infusion port. 

VIKs

[very important kitties]

Winky

Schnitzel

DOLCE FAR NIENTE

There's an Italian phrase dolce far niente, which roughly means "there is sweetness in doing nothing." I work with a lot of European physicians, and I've also spent some time in Europe. From my experiences, I can see that Americans and Europeans are so different when it comes to how we spend our time. Take, for example, "the day off." Today is my day off from work. I get three days off a week and very rarely do I get to spend it doing nothing. There's always something to do, someone to meet up with, or an area of Cleveland I've yet to explore. Today, I'm being European and doing -absolutely- nothing productive. OK, so we all do that from time to time. But today is a change in my thinking and behaving in that I am not going to feel guilty at all. Why is it so wrong to sit on my couch and watch TV and read a magazine and eat good food and play with my cats and look out the window and just be and experience the sweetness of doing nothing? America is somewhat unique in that we don't have breaks during the day, no siestas or teas. So, I'm taking all the breaks I missed in the 9,255 days of my life and making it one non-productive, non-guilty, lounging, carefree day.

In honor of my European break day, some of the best food ever. 

Turkish falafel doner I ate at an East Berlin imbiss with an American soldier at Checkpoint Charlie. This also reminds me of the falafel sandwich I ate last night on W 6th St. :) And also the falafel shop, Mamoun's, in Greenwich Village that is absolutely amazing post-drunken runnings in Times Square.

(Wow, I LOVE falafel sandwiches, huh?)

"One"

Well, it's a new year, and I don't really have a resolution. Great.

Allow me to introduce myself.

My name is Laura. I am 25 years old; I live on the west side of Cleveland, and like many young female Clevelanders, I'm a nurse. I'm also single -- in the worst city to be single in, according to highly forgettable sources. Most importantly, I am one person in this vast world.

One is such a significant number. It can be a winner, or it can signify loneliness. Today is the first day of the first month in the year 2011. 1/1/11. Being "one" can mean being in touch. Or, it can show weakness. It can even, ironically, show strength. One person can't possibly change the world, but one person can change the world.

Have you ever seen the movie Eat, Pray, Love with Julia Roberts? I wish I could be Liz, and go to Italy and eat pizza and teach Italians how to have an American Thanksgiving. I wish I could travel to India and learn how to find myself. I wish I could wander to Bali and fall in love with myself and someone else.

Unfortunately, I have to attempt that in Cleveland. Cleveland, where very reputable sources say it is the worst city to find love in. It's cold and gray and ugly. And to be honest, I haven't found any amazing pizza. But at least I have myself. And I have Cleveland. Yes, I have myself in Cleveland. And I can sit down at a table for one and pray over stale pizza, hoping to fall in love with myself - to become "one" with myself. Be the one to change the world. And maybe even find someone to change mine. Mostly, I want to love "one." Yeah, that's my goal. That's my resolution.

Happy New Year.