I am Remiss
I noticed today that it has been quite a while since my last post. I have excuses--lots of them. You want to hear?
I didn't think so. I have to tell you, sometimes working with kids can be very sad. I have a kid that gets the auditory hallucinations (hears things). I can't go into detail, but when the medicine is strong enough to combat the hallucinations, he has these horrible side effects, so the doctor backs the medicine off and the voices come back. And these are horrible voices. I cannot imagine going through my day, working on school work, trying to sleep at night, or play nice with my sibling when a very real sounding voice is in my ear telling me to do things, or just cussing and screaming at me. My heart breaks for this kid. I hate what trouble the brain can be when it doesn't work right. I hate that the kids I work with have to worry about what the voice is going to tell him next rather than having fun. Somedays, I just hate my job.
Friday, September 29, 2006
Monday, September 18, 2006
The Earwick
My husband has had a massive ear infection for the past few days. It really peaked on Sunday, so he decided to try the CVS minute clinic. Not bad. You are in and out, you get to see a nurse practitioner, and you can get your drugs right there in the store. Because of all the swelling, the nurse said the medicine would not get all the way down into his ear canal. So, she put in an earwick. An earwick is this square cottony thing that sucks up the medicine and delivers it into the right place.
Here's the good part, it started to really bug the snot out of my husband today. So he calls me at work, middle of lunch, saying "I got some tweezers, will you meet me out front and pull this thing out." I run out there and pull this inch long, nasty looking thing out of his ear. According to him, immediate relief. Honey, you are really loved--I was grossing out.
My husband has had a massive ear infection for the past few days. It really peaked on Sunday, so he decided to try the CVS minute clinic. Not bad. You are in and out, you get to see a nurse practitioner, and you can get your drugs right there in the store. Because of all the swelling, the nurse said the medicine would not get all the way down into his ear canal. So, she put in an earwick. An earwick is this square cottony thing that sucks up the medicine and delivers it into the right place.
Here's the good part, it started to really bug the snot out of my husband today. So he calls me at work, middle of lunch, saying "I got some tweezers, will you meet me out front and pull this thing out." I run out there and pull this inch long, nasty looking thing out of his ear. According to him, immediate relief. Honey, you are really loved--I was grossing out.
Saturday, September 16, 2006
A Clean House
Looking back on childhood and adolecence, no one would have pegged me for a neat freak. But here I am now, maybe not truly Obsessively-Compulsively neat, but I definately have an anality about the way I love organization. First example, work. When I first began at my job, I was handed second-hand copies of second-hand copies to be my original forms for to make copies from (my 10th grade English teacher is probably having a stroke right about now from that run-on sentence). The packet was filled with papers that I was supposed to hand to parents and clients for them to fill out. At places, the type was crooked from so many second-hand copies and parts even ran off the page. Did the copier they use have the glass from a fun house? I searched our "forms" area in the H drive of the computer server and finally came up with some neat and pretty originals. Also, (here is the truly anal part) I retyped any forms that were not to be found on the H drive. I actually retyped them. I received quite a bit of flak for doing this. Working with mental health professionals, we all have a tendency to diagnos each other. Many options were tossed around. But here is the catch, although I was called every name in the DSM, they all wanted a copy of my packet of originals. (What could I do? I emailed them to everyone so that they could print it off the laser printer themselves--a second-hand copy just wouldn't do--that's how we got into the mess in the first place).
Second example, home. I actually have a chart for doing chores on a regular basis. A place where we can check off what has been done and what hasn't. The chart includes daily chores, weekly chores, and monthly chores. It tells me everyday that the dishes should be loaded in the dishwasher, that I should sweep, clean out the cat litter and take out the trash. Sadly enough, this chart even tells us to feed the pets. Yes, that's right, in my quest for organization, I have organized my life to the point that whinning puppy and meowing kitty are not reminders to feed, I have to have a chart that tells me to do this.
That being said, I will get off track a bit and say that charts are cool. I love making charts on excel. I have a chart for chores (as I have already said). I have a chart for my weight (sadly the line graph that comes from the chart is an up and down phenomen rather than gradual descent). I have chart for anything I can have a chart for. I really like charts and making charts.
Looking back on childhood and adolecence, no one would have pegged me for a neat freak. But here I am now, maybe not truly Obsessively-Compulsively neat, but I definately have an anality about the way I love organization. First example, work. When I first began at my job, I was handed second-hand copies of second-hand copies to be my original forms for to make copies from (my 10th grade English teacher is probably having a stroke right about now from that run-on sentence). The packet was filled with papers that I was supposed to hand to parents and clients for them to fill out. At places, the type was crooked from so many second-hand copies and parts even ran off the page. Did the copier they use have the glass from a fun house? I searched our "forms" area in the H drive of the computer server and finally came up with some neat and pretty originals. Also, (here is the truly anal part) I retyped any forms that were not to be found on the H drive. I actually retyped them. I received quite a bit of flak for doing this. Working with mental health professionals, we all have a tendency to diagnos each other. Many options were tossed around. But here is the catch, although I was called every name in the DSM, they all wanted a copy of my packet of originals. (What could I do? I emailed them to everyone so that they could print it off the laser printer themselves--a second-hand copy just wouldn't do--that's how we got into the mess in the first place).
Second example, home. I actually have a chart for doing chores on a regular basis. A place where we can check off what has been done and what hasn't. The chart includes daily chores, weekly chores, and monthly chores. It tells me everyday that the dishes should be loaded in the dishwasher, that I should sweep, clean out the cat litter and take out the trash. Sadly enough, this chart even tells us to feed the pets. Yes, that's right, in my quest for organization, I have organized my life to the point that whinning puppy and meowing kitty are not reminders to feed, I have to have a chart that tells me to do this.
That being said, I will get off track a bit and say that charts are cool. I love making charts on excel. I have a chart for chores (as I have already said). I have a chart for my weight (sadly the line graph that comes from the chart is an up and down phenomen rather than gradual descent). I have chart for anything I can have a chart for. I really like charts and making charts.
Friday, September 15, 2006
Full Moon
I hesitated to write this blog as the spouse of the person in question tends to frequent here (Hey!!). But this story tells more about my thinking than my friend (I think).
So I have this friend who is an avid cyclist. A serious cyclist. Rides some ungodly amount of miles at some pretty amazing speeds for a bicycle. The other day he was talking about taking a "Full Moon Ride" with his cycling group. This is when I tell on myself. It took me a good two and a half minutes to understand that he was riding by the light of the full moon that was out this particular weekend. But, the image I had stuck in my head was of a group of semi-crazy people riding with their rear ends hanging out for the "Full Moon" effect.
This is certainly not the only processing issue I have had this week, but it is the funniest. Thanks TC for the humorous image in the middle socializing in Sunday School.
I hesitated to write this blog as the spouse of the person in question tends to frequent here (Hey!!). But this story tells more about my thinking than my friend (I think).
So I have this friend who is an avid cyclist. A serious cyclist. Rides some ungodly amount of miles at some pretty amazing speeds for a bicycle. The other day he was talking about taking a "Full Moon Ride" with his cycling group. This is when I tell on myself. It took me a good two and a half minutes to understand that he was riding by the light of the full moon that was out this particular weekend. But, the image I had stuck in my head was of a group of semi-crazy people riding with their rear ends hanging out for the "Full Moon" effect.
This is certainly not the only processing issue I have had this week, but it is the funniest. Thanks TC for the humorous image in the middle socializing in Sunday School.
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