When Corolla met Deville...making me a Cruella De Vil

I received a phone call at 0530 saying "don't come into work."  There was last minute changes and they didn't need me for the day.  I cheered and clapped and crawled back into bed. 

In the mean while a man who had a warrant for arrest and no legal driver's license since 2005, decided it was a good idea to park his car on the emergency lane of the freeway.  Sean was driving to work and pulled into the right lane to get off the exit.  Suddenly a patch of slush manipulated his car toward the cement wall.  Taping the breaks and steering the wheel, Sean finally gained control.  However, by fate or destiny or by misfortune, Sean hit the back of a parked Deville.  

I heard Sean's voice  over the phone and I knew immediately that he had been in an accident.  His voice trembled, I told him to call 911 and I'd be on my way.   

As Sean was filling out the paperwork in the Sentra,  I was told to move my car in front of the tow truck.  The cop asked me to roll down my window and wait for his signal.  Obeying instructions I rolled down the window and was looking for an opportunity to get back into the freeway lane and pull in front of the tow truck.  A lovely trucker decided to drive right next to the accident and instantly I was soaked.  The trucker had sprayed the inside of our car with slushy freeway muck.

Slush was found in my hair and down my neck.  My scrubs were damp and the poor interior of the Sentra became a splash zone. I thought to myself, "somewhere, someone hates me." 

My first car-love had been hit and both airbags were deployed.  The tow-truck personnel said there was little to no hope of a full recovery.  I was cold and wet and frustrated. 

Needless to say, I felt like this...

And I started acting like Cruella De Vil.  I was angry and blaming everyone else.  If I wouldn't have been so stupid and sold the car last week, we wouldn't have been in this predicament.  Sean was blamed for the accident.  He got a ticket for "reckless driving in poor weather conditions."  Why did God allow this to happen?  I was just set apart as a temple ordinance worker, and this was the thanks I received?  A totaled car and no way to get to the temple when Sean worked.  Our lawn mower just broke, and the lawn looks like a jungle.  We still have to register the Sentra and we owe money for taxes.  Thoughts and steam circulated my mind as I shivered and pondered on all the repercussions of the accident.

In the mean while Sean looked like this.

I said, "you were just in an accident, look like it." ....so he gave me this.

He was faking it.

We immediately went to the Emergency Room to make sure Sean hadn't slipped a disc or fractured a rib.  He joked with the nurses and smiled at every employee.  I frowned, murmured, and cried.  While Sean was away in radiology, my mother called me.  She said, "Anne, what a wonderful blessing Sean is safe.  So what if you lose a car? Or if you are further in debt? It is life.  But you still have each other and no one is hurt."  I knew she was right.  Driving 60 miles an hour and hitting a parked car should have left Sean with abrasions.  Not one bruise was found on his body.  As she continued to speak her words of comfort, my mind flashed two memories.

1)  During my summer break four years ago, I was hunting for a good car.  Nothing seemed to be the right price.  And nothing seemed to be dependable.  Months of searching led me to nowhere.  I only had one weekend left to purchase a car for nursing school before I was to return to BYUI.  I found a car I wanted.  It was perfect.  In budget.  Leather seats.   Power windows.  However, it had awful crash ratings.  My mom wanted to check one more dealership before we made the plunge.  There she was.  Dimple.  My very first car.  She was 2,500$ over the budget, but my mom wanted me to be safe.   Little did I know that four years down the road, it may have possibly saved my husband's life.

2) A parable I learned from BYUI immediately popped into my head. 

"There was once a wise Chinese man who had one son, one horse, and one acre of ground on which he made his living.  One day his son went out to feed the horse and left the gate open and the horse ran away.  All of the man’s friends and neighbors came to him and said, “Oh that’s too bad.  You’ve lost your only horse.  How will you make your living?”  The wise Chinese man just said “I don’t know if that’s bad or that’s good.” But they insisted it was bad.  A few days later, the horse got thirsty and came back to the corral bringing 9 other wild horses with him.  Now all his friends came over and said “Oh, isn’t that good. You’ve got 10 horses.”  The wise Chinese man said “I don’t know if that’s bad or good.”  And they insisted it was good.

A few days later, the wise Chinese man’s son went out to break one of the wild horses.  In the process, the horsed reared up and came down, severely breaking the son’s leg.  This time all the neighbors came over and said “Oh, that’s too bad.  That’s your only son. What will you do?”  And again the wise Chinese man said “I don’t know if that’s bad or good.”  And they insisted it was bad.

A short time later, war broke out in the country.  The government came through and gathered up all the able-bodied young men and marched them off to war where they were all killed."

What started out as a "bad circumstance" ended up saving a father's son.  In reality, it is not for us to decide what is "good" and "bad."  Instead we must have faith and trust that God has a plan.  It makes me think of a song that says, "it's alright, it's alright, all-right.  [He] moves in mysterious ways."

As the day progressed, things kept getting worse.  We discovered for some reason, we weren't carriers of collision insurance.  Geico was only going to pay off what we owed and not reimburse us for it's value.  It meant at least another 1,500$ down the drain.

It is hard to stay positive.  I don't know how all of this is going to end.  But it was a crappy, slushy, and expensive day.  And this week has been entirely one of the worst in awhile.  I'm still not pregnant, lost a mound of money and a car, and I'm ever more depressed. 

While complaining to my mom, she asked a profound question.  "Anne, when something bad happens why do you always blame God?"

She was right.  I do.  My face was washed in tears and immediately I felt ashamed.  Yes, the situation was unfair.  However, I miraculously didn't have to go to work and Sean was safe.  If anything, the situation may have been much worse.  God had protected my husband. 

Sean continued his cheery attitude.  When we returned from the ER, Sean served me a hot breakfast in bed.  He immediately made phone calls and returned to his responsibilities.  I, on the other hand, was still acting like a spoiled little brat.  While people across the nation and world were losing loved ones, and homes, I was complaining about some money and a car.  So the bitter and frustrated me is not who I want to be.  But I know God will continue to teach me to be the faithful women He knows I can be.

 One quote sums up this post...

 "Don't miss the donut by looking through the hole."



Our Hero

While I was working Wednesday, I received a text from my mother saying that my aunt Shirley had slipped into a coma.  I was devastated.  My aunt had been battling cancer for over two years.  I thought she was invincible.  I believed that maybe this time, we'd have a cancer survivor in our family instead of another martyr.  I sat and cried at the nurse's station and composed myself to finish working.  I was especially angry when I admitted a patient who had seriously fried her brain with alcohol for thirty years of her life.  She was given the precious gift of health, and she abused it.  Yet there she was, in the hospital, dumb as a post due to intoxication.  Why?

Sean came to pick me up after work so we could go say goodbye one last time.

April 2009, my wedding day.  Shirley is on the far left.

July 2010, Aunt Shirley and Uncle Conway

My aunt Shirley was beautiful.  She laid in bed and had the common appearance of all my patients who are ready to die.  There was a certain peace and comfort in the room as I listened to my mom read her stories of miracles.  I sobbed and sobbed as I watched my aunt slowly slip away.  It wasn't fair.  Why did God do this to families?  My cousins were in the other room talking and telling stories.  Three daughters who were about to lose their mother.  I plunged into the couch next to the bed and sobbed some more.  She was so lively.  It seemed like yesterday that I watched her water fight with all her grandchildren at the family reunion.  Suddenly, my aunt opened her eyes and turned to look at me.  She saw me bawling and furrowed her brow.  Then she gave me a big smile and returned to her unconscious state.  It was almost as if she was saying to me, "Trish, why are you sad?  Be happy, my family will be with me again."  My mom asked me to leave the room and control my emotions.  But I couldn't.  I couldn't stop being angry at God.

That was the last time I saw Shirley alive.  The following morning I received the text declaring that she had passed at 10:35am. 

The Worsley family had temporarily lost their hero.  I mourn for the loss of my aunt, but above all, I mourn for the family.  I have some experience with losing a parent to cancer.  My father died of kidney cancer 11 years ago.  I remember the emptiness, the pain, and the anger that all came from his loss.  It felt like years before I could pleasantly remember him without longing for his hugs.  Even after eleven years I still miss him and cry.  These last days I have constantly thought and prayed for them as they endure one of the hardest trials known to man. 

I called into work sick that night and spent the entire evening with my mother.  This had been particularly hard on her because Shirley was her sister and best friend.  This was the second time she had watched, waited, and lost a best friend to cancer.  We watched Tangled and played games.  My mom shared some of her favorite memories of Shirley.  We all cried and hugged and Sean and I didn't leave until after midnight. 

On the way home from Shirley's house, an ironic song came on the radio.  "With Arms Wide Open" by Creed.

Well I just heard the news today

It seems my life is going to change

I close my eyes, begin to pray

Then tears of joy stream down my face

With arms wide open

Under the sunlight

Welcome to this place

I'll show you everything

With arms wide open

With arms wide open

I thought of a loving Heavenly Father waiting for Shirley to come into His arms.  I thought of my own father who was getting ready to show Shirley all the wonders of Heaven saying, "I'll show you everything."  And last of all, I thought of Jesus Christ who would encircle my Aunt "in the arms of His love." 

My aunt will never be forgotten.  She will be greatly missed.  However, she is now free from the sorrows and ills of this world.  She is free from pain.  And she will now be our family guardian angel.

My thoughts and emotions are all jumbled.  Therefore, I will end this post with a picture of a truck Sean and I saw on on the highway this morning.  When I saw the quote, I immediately thought "my aunt Shirley's motto, and she's still reminding me of it today."

Thank-you Shirley for teaching me some of the greatest lessons of life.  I love you.

Who Says? Wisdom from my mother...

The past month has been a month of miracles and a month of depression.  It seems as if in this society "depression" is condemned.  It is ridiculed.  It is a silent disease.  Those who have it, can't express it.  Those who see it pretend it doesn't exist.  Comments fly such as, "don't worry, be happy."  Or the infamous, "you shouldn't be sad, you have a good life."  Well, my heart agrees with those statements, but my brain is fast to reject.  I find myself embarrassed about admitting I'm prone to depression, however, it is how I have lived the last month.  It is as if my body doesn't have an "on" switch and my mind doesn't have an "off" switch.  I take one day at a time.  It is nearly impossible to motivate myself to get out of bed when I don't have to work or don't have other plans.  I dread nearly everything I have to do.  My life is lived in slow motion, every minute feels like an hour, and hours feel like years.  My heart aches on a daily basis and my mind rewinds and replays all the reasons as to why life isn't worth living.  As you can imagine or as you may have personally experienced, living this way of life is in itself depressing.  I cry in Sean's arms until I go numb.  I try to read.  I try to clean.  I try to do anything other than nothing.  When I succeed at doing something I literally exhaust myself.  Thoughts go through my head saying, "you are ugly, people just pretend to be nice to you."  Moments of my mistakes scream through my brain, "remember when...."  And the further I become depressed, the more I realize what a retard I am and the cycle continues.

However, I am writing this post to help me heal.  I'm done dwelling.  I'm done crying.  It's time to become more like my mother.



I love Disney! And I came across this song by Selena Gomez that I have really come to appreciate.

You've got every right
To a beautiful life!

 Who says?

Who says you're not perfect?

Who says you're not worth it?

Who says you're the only one that's hurting?

.....

Who says you're not pretty?

Who says you're not beautiful?

Who says?

I love the meaning of the song.  In most instances it is myself that says those things.  My mom has probably told me this quote a thousand times,

"10% of the people you meet will love you.                                  

10% of the people you meet will hate you.                   

     and 80% of the people you meet just won't care."

Although I'm sure those statistics are right for most people, I believe that 80% of people love my mom.  :D

My mom is such an incredible example to me.  She lives her life like the lyric in the song, "when it comes to me, I wouldn't want to be anyone else." 

Time and time again she shows me her faith and testimony.  There are several things that my mom has done that have left a forever impression upon my mind. But today I want to chronicle three:

1)  Growing up, I remember rainy school mornings when most moms drove their kids to school.  But not my mom.  She'd wake us up early and we'd get ready to walk to school just like any other day.  Without an umbrella, we'd walk down the big hill to the elementary school.  It's hard to imagine a 3rd grader embarrassed by their mom, but I was, because my mom would literally dance in the rain.  She'd skip.  she'd sing.  And she would force it upon me and my twin.  By the time we got to school, I was soaked but already having the best day.  Every day was like that.  Life was an adventure, and she lived every day like a fairytale.  She didn't care if nature decided it would be a "bad day!"  She'd take advantage of all the things normal people would call "misfortunes" and turn them into jackpots.  It wasn't just with rain, it was with everything.  Such as during long power outages, my mom would gather the family, build a big fire in the furnace and we'd sing camp songs and roast marshmallows.  I cherish those memories more than anything.  The other day my mom guiltily admitted that most of our "power outages" were mom-made.  :D As I look back on her enthusiasm and her cheer, I realize that she sincerely loved life.  She still lives this way today. 

2) After 27 years of marriage, her husband died of cancer.  My mom was left a widow at 47 and a single mom with four children still left at home.  When making plans for the funeral, I was complaining to my mom that I didn't have anything "black" to wear.  My mom carefully held her tears in her eyes and with her chin-up she said, "why do people wear black at funerals? A funeral is to remember the life of a loved one and I'm sure your dad doesn't want to be remembered as black.  I'm going to wear yellow."  And she did.  She wore yellow.  I don't recall my mom crying the day we buried my father, but instead I remember her laughing and being grateful for the days she had with the love of her life, and the eternities she'd have with him again. In her grief, she stays positive.  Recently her sister is dying from cancer.  This has been very hard on my mom.  But even though she is saddened by losing her sister, she finds ways to show her gratitude.  As she was remodeling the house, she began writing on the wooden floor with a magic marker.  Every little thing she wrote was something she was grateful for.  The entire kitchen, hallway and entry was filled with words of gratitude for her wonderful life.  Wow.

3) After two semesters of college, I came home for a semester to work and save money.  It was the only semester I lived off campus for my entire four years of college.  I really had a rough time.  All I did was work and exist.  Basically I was living then like I'm living now.  One day I was lamenting and studying in my room when my mom knocked on the door.  In her hands were three juggling balls.  She sternly said to me, Anne I need you to watch this.  I watched for nearly an hour as my mom attempted again and again to juggle.  Sometimes she would make improvements, but most times she would just drop the balls.  We laughed and I cheered her on.  Soon she came and sat on my bed and solemnly said, "Anne, when I die, I want you to put in my obituary that I could juggle."  I thought she was joking so I busted up laughing about how ridiculous it would be to mention something so trivial in a life's synopsis.  She smiled and said again, "Anne, how many middle-aged women do you know that are learning how to juggle?"  I was dumbfounded.  Honestly, I couldn't link of any.  She laughed and said again, "when I die, I want my obituary to say that I knew how to juggle." It has been five years since I watched her juggle, and today I finally realize why she wanted that in her obituary.  It's because it's a statement that says, "I am not afraid to try, I never give-up, and I love being me." I'm pleased to announce that my mother still practices her juggling.

Although I may struggle in the depths of depression.  And although I complain and wallow in despair, I'm making a new goal to be more like my mother.  Not to become her, but to love being me like she does. 

The greatest blessing God has given me is my mother.  It is because of her that I have a testimony of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.  It is because of her that I learned how to challenge myself, work hard, and become a nurse.  It is because of her that I found in Sean, the love of my life.  She taught me how to love.  She taught me how to trust.  And above all, she taught me how to enjoy life's journey, so I'm going to start acting like I learned how.

Who says I'm not worth it? Not me.

I am the offspring of the most incredible woman I know.  

I have worth through my mother!

Thank-You, mom!  I will love you forever!



I Love to See the Temple

Yesterday, I was having a really bad day due to some family conflicts.  I had literally been verbally rejected, and it had really hurt  my heart.  So I laid around crying and thought, "there is no way I'm going to feel better."  I thought about how I had felt Saturday night when Sean and I did a session in the Bountiful temple.  I knew I needed to go there.  I got dressed and faced my fears by going to the SLC temple.  I hate driving in downtown Salt Lake, and the temple is so big, it scares me.  So Sean and I always just go to the Bountiful temple because it is familiar to me and we don't have the headache of parking.  Immediately peace washed over me as I entered the Conference Center parking lot.  I had really felt a difference. 

I brought my camera and my temple bag and I walked on temple grounds.  There was still an ache in my heart, but it didn't feel as bad.  I walked to the temple and entered with confidence.  I had to ask for instructions and directions again and again as I was looking for my way.  After I did some inititories, I went and sat in the Celestial room for an hour.  I pondered the love of God and His gift of Jesus Christ.  I then got to tour parts of the temple and found the room where Sean and I were sealed for time and eternity.  I just stood outside the room for several minutes.  Memories filled my heart of my love for Sean.  In that very room, I was sealed to Sean Willardson.  It was that room, that had begun the greatest adventure of my life. 

My parents were married in the Salt Lake City temple and also my grandparents.  I know that families can be together forever.

I then walked around temple grounds for a half hour and captured these dazzling pictures on my awesome camera.

I hope that one day I will be able to have children, and in primary they will sing, "I love to see the temple.  I’ll go inside someday.  I’ll covenant with my Father; I’ll promise to obey.  For the temple is a holy place where we are sealed together.  As a child of God, I’ve learned this truth:  A family is forever."

I know that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latterday Saints is true.  And I am so grateful to be born and raised a part of it.  A family is forever.   

God is a God of Miracles

This last month has been a month of extreme emotions. If only I could verbalize the complexities of the events that have happened in the last two weeks.

On February 12th, I got to watch Sean baptize his mother.  The sister missionaries below began teaching her months ago. 

Sean's mom was absolutely beautiful and radiant.  The missionaries spoke and testified of the greatness of our Father in Heaven.  They spoke of His love for Verna, and their love for her sweet spirit.  There was not a dry eye in the room.  One sister missionary sang the hymn, "Lead Kindly Light" which happens to also be my favorite hymn. 

Sean carefully led her kindly down into the font.  After she was baptized, she came out of the water and gasped for air.  She trembled and cried as she and Sean stood hugging motionless in the water.  Minutes passed as the audience watched and felt the warmth of the Spirit flooding the room. Sean kissed her on the forehead and whispered words of love and led her back out of the font.  I was engulfed with love towards my mother in law.  She was beautiful, and her spirit beamed brighter than a lighthouse during a total eclipse.  The light had led her to the Church, and she was now a new member.  Her confirmation was gentle and sweet.  I will never forget that marvelous day. It was a miracle.

Babies and more babies. Everything is about babies. I was pleased to gain another nephew on the 15th of February. Koen is a chubby stud who has been struggling in the PICU since his arrival here on earth. My prayers are with him and his parents. But he is nonetheless, a miracle.

Then, on the 17th, Sean had surgery. Many have asked why. Sean was diagnosed with obstructive sleep apnea. It is a condition that causes the airway to collapse while asleep. This causes brief moments when Sean stops breathing. As you can imagine, it is terrifying to watch Sean sleep. Often times I will shake Sean awake and yell at him to breathe. Well, Sean had "phase one" surgery to correct this condition. It consists of nasoplasty, adenoidectomy, tonsillectomy, and a  uvulaplatablepharngealplasty. They abbreviate it as a UPPP. Surgery went well, but Sean wouldn't wake up after the anesthesia and he required supplemental oxygen. We spent the night at the hospital and the following day, I took Sean to the doctor's office where he removed 1 inch splints out of Sean's nose.

His were the ones with the tube-looking things on the far right.

It looked painful. I was able to take several days off and care for my sick man. As of today, he still can't eat much, but the pain is dissipating, and he is sleeping better! He even went to church.  It has been a miracle.

Back to babies, and more showers, yes, I shower everyday but recently I have been invited to several of my sister's baby showers and friend's baby showers. Here, there, and everywhere a baby shower.

I volunteered to organize a baby shower for the girl I visit teach. It has been a blast! Yes, I Anne made and decorated over a hundred invites and have planned and coordinated a baby shower. I have been very pleased with myself. The shower is this Saturday, and I will post pics.



God is a God of miracles. However, there are many nights around the world with knees smashed against the earth's floor. Couples plead and cry for God to give them a baby of their own.  Why does a God of miracles allow babies to die? From abortion to congenital disorders, why does He take them away? Joseph Smith had first-hand experience, and from his heart as a grieving father he wrote, "the Lord takes many away, even in infancy that they may escape the envy of man and the sorrows and ills of this present world. They were to pure, to lovely to live on the earth. Therefore, I have rightly considered instead of mourning we have reason to rejoice as they are delivered from evil and we shall soon have them again."

Although Joseph Smith's words ring true, the pain still settles at the base of the heart.  But, God is a God of miracles.  And when a window shuts, he opens a DOOR!

The most magnificent story of babies was the opportunity I had to find a baby for my sister. By God's will and being at the right place at the right time, I found a birth mom that wasn't prepared for parenthood. I told her about my sister who has burried two babies and had recently miscarried in August. I arranged a meeting with the birth parents and my sister and her husband.  We cheered and smiled as we saw the ultra sound of a long awaited miracle.  The parents exchanged information and began a month long process of lawyers, social workers, and anxious waiting.  My sister and brother in law took the birth mom to all her appointments and also took her to the hospital three different times with false alarms.  After a week past her due date, the doctor finally induced her.  On February 21st, my new nephew, Kody, was born.


The adoptive daddy and sister holding Kody's hand.

My sister got to hold him immediately after he was born. Tears scattered down her face as she held her third adopted child and her first living son.

Both Kody's sisters got to hold little him on the day of his birth.

After a twelve hour night shift and weeks of waiting, I also got to hold baby Kody

As of today, Paige and Sean (the birth parents) are the most selfless people I know in the world.

"A Birthmother puts the needs of her child above the wants of her heart"

In conclusion of my long post, I wanted to add a special tribute to Paige.  Michael Mclean wrote a song from a birth mother's point of view.  I heard the song as I drove to work yesterday evening and I cried as I thought of the miracle of adoption.

 

 God is a God of miracles.  Because of this month of miracles, I know that one day Sean and I will hold our own baby miracle.
But, as of right now, we just get this furry four-legged thing...

And the most miraculous miracle of all is that God gave me my man.

I'm buckled...thoughts of being a RN

"To do what nobody else will do, a way that nobody else can do, in spite of all we go through; is to be a nurse."

Well, to be buckled means "to prepare oneself or apply oneself."  Hence, I am buckling to write a post.  I have so much I want to write about but this blog is supposed to be about Sean and I's adventures and not my rants and thoughts.  However, Sean living with me has to be an adventure, cause I tell you what, I am...well past roommates, what am I?  Lol, I guess I shall call myself an adventure.  So life continues to continue whether I want it to continue or not.  During the "adventures of our love" we have to do something that is most adventurous-work. 

I'm sure all of you know I am a nurse.  In the last week I have been punched in the gut, clawed, pinched, and bled on....yes, someone bled on me because they pulled out their IV.  I suppose that is better than other weeks when I get to take home vomit and feces.  Seriously, being a nurse is tough stuff.  Tuesday, I cried and cried at the end of my shift.  At work.  Some days are just so extremely exhausting that I shut down and there is not a reset button.  Unfortunately, because of law, I am unable to post any details of my "bad days" which makes working as a nurse even harder.  Does anyone else struggle with their professions?  Well, today I am posting a little bit about what it is like to be a nurse through tidbits of quotes I have extracted.

"Bound by paperwork, short on hands, sleep, and energy... nurses are rarely short on caring."  ~Sharon Hudacek

So nursing is a lot of things, but it is hard. 

Here is a joke I like.

Question: What 's the difference between a nurse and a nun?
Answer:  A nun only serves one God.


The awful truth.  Some patients think they are gods and should be served like one.  The food must be five stars, the doctor must see them first, no pain is acceptable and to them, you are a peasant.  It doesn't matter that you haven't sat down for ten hours, they want their diet Coke now.  And it better be cold and on the rocks.  It is so ridiculous.  Patients like these are hard too please and are so demanding.  Everything is wrong, and everything is unacceptable.  12 hours with this patient feels like eternity. 

Mother Tersea said this,  "People are unrealistic; illogical, and self-centered. Love them anyway."

I wish she would have left instructions on how.


Often times patients say, "what are you nurses good for anyway?"  If only they knew.  I'll tell you what, we are worth a lot more than we make.  The responsibilities we have, the training we go through, and the things we do are far more extensive then could ever be explained without being shown.  Ask a new nurse, they'll give you insight.

"When you are a nurse you know that every day you will touch a life or a life will touch yours."

However, there are also good days when being a nurse is wonderful.  On one such day, I had a patient who was so entirely sweet and giggly.  Yes, she would laugh and giggle about everything.  The pains and aches were part of the roller coaster of her disease.  Each bump made her laugh, and each drop made her smile.  Not because she was dying, but because of the life she lived.  Past ninety years old, this woman still said please and thank-you.  She always had a smile on her face, even when her pain was at its worst.  After 24 hours spent with this patient she invited me to her surprise birthday party.  It was a surprise because it would be a "surprise" if she was still alive.  She hugged me and kissed me on the cheek before I left on my week vacation.  I knew she still had days of treatments left, and I knew she may not make it another day.  She looked me in the eyes and said, "Anne, I love you."  You know that watery stuff that fills the eyes during certain moments?  Well, my eyes were full of that watery stuff.  Tears rolled down my cheeks as I drove away from the hospital that day.  I was not crying because I was sad.  I cried because I was grateful to be her nurse.

Which leads me too another quote..

She also said, "It's not how much we do, but how much love we put into doing."


This is something I am really trying to learn. 


Sean is my greatest example of a good nurse.  If there was another definition of caring, it would be Sean Cristian Willardson.  After working ten hours himself, he will come home, make dinner, start a warm bath, make the bed and have it all done before I return from work.  He is never asked to do it, but he does it anyway.  When I am sick, he will treat me like an ICU patient, catering to my every last whim and loving me all the while.  He never complains.  He loves doing it.  


This is a pic taken in 2008 of Sean stretching my legs after I had returned from a nursing clinical. 
Sean still stretches my legs today.





So ending my post I'd like to share a quote from one of the greatest nurses of all times, Florence Nightingale.

"Nursing is an art: and if it is to be made an art, it requires an exclusive devotion as hard a preparation, as any painter's or sculptor's work; for what is the having to do with dead canvas or dead marble, compared with having to do with the living body, the temple of God's spirit? It is one of the Fine Arts: I had almost said, the finest of Fine Arts." ~Florence Nightingale
  

The things I've learned while swallowing gunk...

Well, it's 3:32 AM and I cannot sleep.  So I tumbled out of bed and came into the office to do some reading and soul-searching.  Recently I've had a nasty sinus infection.  It has been quite entertaining swallowing what feels like molasses poured down my throat, and enjoying the feeling that my ears are about to explode off my face.  Mornings like this morning I cannot help but think how interesting it is to live in this day and age.  I am so SPOILED!

The Consistency of my gunk...

The three things I have learned while swallowing gunk. 

3) Monk is a great TV show
2) I have a wonderful twin sister that is hilarious
1) I have an amazing life!
That concludes this post.