hodge podge

got a letter from my daughter this afternoon - she works on the call system at duke university hospital, where there is a scandal/investigation going on with the lacrosse team concerning a rape.  my daughter answered the phone today and a man in oregon asked her - do most men at duke rape women?  beth responded..not to my knowledge, sir. and then he asked if she and other women were proud of the lacrosse team's actions.

now my daughter is a fiery redhead who was born pissed off.  in her younger years, she perfected the art of door slamming.  she has calmed down a wee tad over the past few years, but she said - mom, the man kept getting louder and louder and kept on and on...

i guess she should have just hung up the phone, but instead she told him - Sir, that has nothing to do with this department, and it wouldn't take an idiot to know we are NOT proud of something of that nature.  have a nice evening.

and THEN she hung up.  i would say she has learned to slam doors with a touch of class.  ;-)

seems the hospital is getting a lot of calls in reference to the crime that is under investigation.  i can understand the public's anger...perhaps they should call the lacrosse team's coach?

this has been a really good day, overall.  except i lost my ID card and they wouldn't let me out of prison. and so i have renamed my ID Get Out of Jail Free Card.  finally found it, in the jacket i forgot i wore. 

my daughter has invited me up to see her brand spanking new apartment.  we have so much planned - bookstore, tour of duke university's gardens, movies - you name it.  it has been SO long since i've been anywhere!  we'll enjoy every second of it.

started my short story today - Lessons in Knowing.  for some reason, creativity has been high for the past few weeks. 

yesterday was my father's birthday.  the man has battled cancer for the last year and is still recovering from radiation.  it cooked his salivary glands and it's difficult for him to eat.  well, he can eat cake - we made FIVE of 'em, and he had some of all. he was tickled pink to see his daughter's had done that for him.  the man loves cake.

and now, back to work!

i'll be by to read you all. 

musing aloud

My brother now runs the family business - a small gas station/restaurant in a location that makes it quite profitable.  I practically grew up there, worked before school and after school - did my homework at the counter when business was slow.  Can't say I've been back often since 1996.  I stop in maybe once every couple of weeks to see how things are going and to catch up on the local gossip.

And I did that yesterday.  After my brother cajoled me into buying an 89 cent pack of little cigars (cherry flavored), he told me a lady I've known all my life was killed in a car accident the night before.

We weren't close - we were on the periphery of each others' lives for as long as I can remember.  We attended the same schools, rode the same bus and then later our kids were friends.  And now she's gone, very suddenly.  I was stunned.

I guess we expect people who have been there forever to be there forever...regardless of how close we are.

And it spurred me to pick up the phone and call Charles, who is probably my closest friend.  We haven't talked in a while, so we got all caught up.  But I SWEAR not to let months go by again, because you just never know.  And then I got in contact with a few other friends.

I don't mean to depress anybody.  It's just on my mind.

As far as the cigars go - wouldn't you know,  I forgot to take cigarettes to work today and they were all I had in my purse.  And so i smoked the danged things.  Toward the end of the day, Sgt. Greene joined me and said - Wow.  I didn't know you smoked cigars.  I gave him the pack and said..I don't.  Ick. 

One of the inmates came up to me and proudly told me he was studying criminology.  An independent thinker, that one is, by his own proclamation.  I have to wonder if he'll think independently OR - use the independence of mind to manipulate theories and proven facts into what he wants them to be. 

My favorite psychologist was around today.  We had time to visit and he was in an unusually playful mood.  I alerted him the library book sale and he said he'd be there if I would be so kind as to call and remind him.  I'll always be his secretary, I suppose.  Then we got into a discussion of truth being more deadly than lies.  That's one of the things i liked about that particular prison - there was no shortage of stimulating conversation, no shortage of anything, except perhaps staff.  Whoever takes my place...I hope she appreciates and watches out for them like they'll watch out for her.

My cousin the superintendent called and promised he was coming up to central - but he never made it.  Shoot.  Just recently, we began acting more like family than coworkers.

Speaking of family, mine is becoming closer.  That's very satisfying to experience.

And in a couple of weeks, I'm taking a well deserved weekend away from the ordinary and going to see someone I love very much. We've made plans for a bookstore, a mexican restaurant and decadently rich chocolate.  It'll be good to get away.

 

a quickie before bedtime

that's right - i'm turning in before 8 tonight.  it was a good day, though...spent most of it trying to interpret dr. k's voice.  doesn't bother me that he's from the middle east, but..he stutters, to compound matters.  still, it's a challenge.  and i like a challenge - as long as it isn't insurmountable.  then, i just give up.

people are always giving me things...not sure why.  today, my boss gave me some very bold beads and dangly earrings to match.  they're fun!  and i'll wear them.  now, the plan is to do something for her in return.  since a gift of anything else would probably end up in her give-away pile, i'm thinking a gift basket with coffees in it. she loves coffee.

was walking out the door at 4:30 this afternoon, and there he was - sgt. green, from the other prison.  he looked at me and said..what're you doing here?  i work in medical records..he said, yeah, at our place. and i told him..no, not anymore.  just two days a week until the new hire is approved.

i'm tired tonight..don't know why, unless it's the weather.  it's rainy and cold and miserable and (whine) my knee hurts, and i have nothing of substance to say except when i am an old lady, i'll wear bold beads, danglies and janglies, but for now, i'm wearing my night gear and heading for my pink satin pillow and hopefully a night that doesn't have those vivid dreams.

until i have something real to say...

mara

 

discovery

a while back, i bought a book on character traits.  it was written by a psychologist specifically for writers who are crafting their heroes and heroines.  after all, your characters have to be three dimensional enough to be memorable - and the general reading public won't take you seriously if suddenly Miss Vidalia Theresa Jones does something less than true of her personality.

frankly, i haven't used it.  frankly, i haven't written much, but thumbing through it, i came upon life stages.  aha!  yeah, that was me in my twenties, and that was me in my thirties.  thirty, by the way, was a traumatic birthday.  it meant i was old. no longer youthful.  and i had the audacity at that point to look back over what seemed then to be a long, long life and moan - i haven't accomplished anything!...as if there were no more time for accomplishments.

what utter bull.  at thirty, we haven't even grown up, yet - or at least, most of us haven't.

that's not to say we don't have a kid in us at forty or older.  and i have to tell you, the forties have been nothing short of great and full of discovery.  the last few years have been the best of my life. i found the room and freedom to grow and choose.

perhaps it's somewhere between thirty-five and ninety-five we begin to get in touch with who we really are.  there is so much to be explored and experienced that i don't think we fit neatly into a subtitle of characterizations.  we're prone to change at any given time.  personal paradigms are detonated and blown off the face of who we're expected to be.

so people can change.  for instance, Miss Vidalia Theresa Jones, who on the surface appears to be a narcissistic, self proclaimed prophet of God, is actually full of self-doubts and is reaching for something that gives her confidence.  and when she finds it, she may just step out of that little box someone had tape-gunned her into and commit a totally out of character act - because she has found who she really is.

man, this makes no sense, does it?

i simply had to write.

potpourri

"Even if you're on the right track, you'll get run over if you just sit there."

Will Rogers

 

so it's 5:25 a.m. - have been up for an hour now, and on my second cup of coffee, getting caught up on journals, reading news and email.  in the news - 2 more women have died from taking the abortion pill.  and the fda doesn't want americans to order their drugs (for a better price) from canada for WHAT reason?

oleg cassini has passed away.  i bought something with his name on it once.  can't remember now what it was, and i don't have it anymore.  i've never been much into designer anything.

worked thursday and friday at the prison.  it occurs to me that my work is my life and vice versa.

a couple of the inmates were glad to see me.  one, because he watched the nurses scramble to try and get into the computer.  they need you, he told me.  they don't know beans about what you do.  frankly, i think they've done a great job, but it was good to be back there with my friends.  we were a good team.

there is a nurse there who has a gift.  i knew it immediately, because i have one of my own, and so one day i approached her and asked her point blank - are you an empath?

a strange expression came over her face and i thought - i've messed up.  but she followed me outside later and said..you have to be careful who you tell.  not everybody understands.

and then she went on to tell me of her experiences.  so i pegged that one right.  she was just stunned that she was approached about it.

a few weeks ago, she picked me up at the hospital for a function at the prison.  i wanted to talk with you in private, she told me.  then she pulled out a gift wrapped box and said - this is a crystal, and here's what you do.  wait until the next full moon, then soak it in sea salt overnight to purify it.  after that, nobody but you should touch it.  it'll sharpen your insight.

now folks, i haven't gone to communing with crystals or anything like that...but i soaked it and carry it in my pocket, and that's as far as it goes.  my insight is a bit too sharp already, for my taste.

but this gives me a great idea for a short story.  gonna go work on it now.

y'all have a great weekend.

 

 

 

hangin in, hangin on, hangin out

with my change of location comes the need for new introductions.

i have a special friend at the hospital - captain corrado.  he's down to earth, as sweet as triple fudge chocolate cake, a gentleman from the word 'go'.

my first day back, he walked into the office and said - oh no you don't, come here!  he put his arms around me and gave me the biggest hug and said - and i don't care WHO sees.  kind of like the day he took my ID picture - i had gone with another lady to get the deed done and he told her, could you turn away a minute?  i have to hug this woman.  she's an old flame, you know.

we hit the smoking area together.  i could always tell when he was having a bad day.  when i asked how he was doing, he'd say all in one breath - hangin in, hangin on, hangin out.  doin the best i can with what i've got.  don't sweat the small stuff and it's all small stuff. 

it's like a mantra for him.

i remember the first time i ever saw him.  he was sitting at the counter of the restaurant where i worked and i thought to myself - ho-ly COW.  and that's unusual for me.  men don't catch my eye like that. even now, 20 some years later, he's a good looking fella.  dark hair and eyes to match his italian name.  sorry ladies, i can't help it - he's just that good looking.

he told me a story once, about hunting. it was late at night, they were running the dogs and he wanted to be one of the guys which meant - he had to chew tobacco.  so he did.  he popped a great big plug into his mouth, went running in behind the dogs, hit a tree limb and swallowed the tobacco.

i was the sickest i've ever been for an entire week, and i haven't tried to chew tobacco since.

the most striking thing about the captain isn't his looks.  it's how he treats everyone with respect.  i was walking through the gate one morning and an inmate was standing there with his shirt tail out.  the captain approached him and said, sir, you need to tuck your shirt in. and he complied willingly and without grumbling under his breath or cursing aloud.

not all officers are like that.  most officers aren't like that, in fact.  it's barking orders, but when captain does it, he gets results without having to raise his voice.

the stress of being a white shirt is getting to him, though.  at the smoking area last week, he told me of all the paperwork, the overtime, of not getting lunch breaks and of dealing with the higher ups. 

six more months.  if i can hang on six more months, i can get the hell out of here.

man.  six more months, and the hospital will be a different place altogether.  in my eyes, he's the heart of the place, in more ways than one.

 

compassionate detachment

There is a thin line between compassion and undue familiarity, and at times, it's hard to distinguish between the line and footprints we leave when we step on and blur it. I can count on one hand the times when I was moved to consciously discern the difference.

 Once was with an inmate named Calvin.  He was a child-like man, brain damaged from an attack with a lock in a sock - a favorite weapon among inmates who don't have the time or tools to create a shank.  One day, I stepped out of the medical record office, and there sat Calvin, on the hot seat in front of the control center.

How are ya, Calvin?

I'm scared, ma'am.

And he was.  He was bug-eyed with fright, rocking back and forth on the bench.  And at that moment, I stepped on the line.  He was so much like a lost little boy, I forgot who and where we were.

Why are you scared, Calvin? 

The sergeant called me up here, ma'am.  I don't know what I done to get in trouble.

Well, don't worry.  It'll be ok, you'll see.

If you say so, ma'am.

He turned from me, still rocking back and forth, and stared straight ahead.

The second time was in medium custody.  His name was Larry, and he was a con man from the get-go.  I knew this.  The first time I met Larry, I had screwed up his hepatology clinic appointment and he was pissed.  But oddly enough, he was polite about it.  I explained I was brand new and had messed up, but I would reschedule him ASAP, and do it right this time.

He was a thin man, sickly looking.  When he came up for med pass, he would go past my office and wave.  Occasionally, he would tease me about messing up - even though he did get his appointment.

What are you complaining about?  You got a ride out of the deal, didn't you?

He refused the medication the clinic doctor had recommended for him - why, I'll never know for sure, but Ava said it was because he wanted narcotic drugs.  Not hard to believe.  He was in for breaking and entering, the profession he chose to support his drug habit. And somehow, he managed to smoke pot while behind bars.  I'll never forget walking past seg and there was Larry, a shit eating grin on his face, waving at nurse Andrews and me.  He didn't care if he was locked up.  I guess the pot was worth it to him.

Somewhere along the line, he appointed himself my janitor.  That was fine with me.  Of all the janitors I had, I had this one's number.  He couldn't snow me, he couldn't get over on me, and I knew what information to cover up when he came in the office.  He kept my plants alive, adopted the ones people had kicked out of their offices and gave them to me.  He told me - now don't kill these.  You never remember to water them.

And he was right.  He would stop in to sweep, and he would check the soil in the philodendron and spider plants.  Sure enough, he came back with a fingerful of dust.  He would just shake his head.  After a few times, he made a habit of stopping in on Fridays just to make sure the plants had enough water to get them through the weekend.

It's hard to tell if he liked attention from female staff members or if he knew he was getting worse and just needed the comfort of conversation...someone to listen to him.  He picked flowers for the nurses.  He picked flowers for me and left them on my desk.

You're going to get me in trouble! I told him.  And I promptly went to the sergeant, told him some inmate had left flowers on my desk and I hadn't done nothin to encourage NObody to do that.  I didn't give him a name, though.  I wasn't sending Larry back to seg...in retrospect, it might have been the best for him.

He was noncompliant with treatment, and his disease was progressing.  He knew it.  He became more and more clingy.  Once, he was in the office when count was called.  He stood there, not moving.  A little uncomfortable, I told him, you'd best go back on the block so they can find you.
He left, then.  But he looked on the verge of saying something.

Later, I found out his father was dying.  When I came back from a week's vacation, the nurses told me Larry's father had passed.  He didn't say a lot for a few days, but he told me about it.  All I could say was, I'm really sorry.

It's difficult, in a case like that, to know where the line is.  You're torn between compassion and professionalism; between remaining above suspicion and keeping your job and simply letting yourself be human.

A little more time passed.  Ava was anxious to get Larry out.  He was becoming entirely too familiar with the female staff members.  He was never rude, never too terribly out of line, but he was getting more and more sick.  She changed his acuity and arranged for him to be sent to an outpatient unit.

He didn't know about his impending transfer.  At the end of the day before he was to leave, I wanted to say goodbye and good luck, but couldn't.  I figured he would be gone the next morning, but when I went to work..there he was in the holding cell, looking disgusted.  I had to grin.  He looked at me, shook his head and waved, and I waved back.  I remember thinking...this is the last time I'll see him.

A few months later, on a Monday morning, I walked into the office and in the back of my mind I heard Larry say - when's the last time you watered these plants?

They were gasping for a drink, so I filled up the watering can and gave them a good drenching.  In a while, I decided to pull Larry up on the state network to make sure he was staying out of trouble.

I couldn't find him.  I thought - maybe he got an early parole!  So i went to a different screen, and sure enough, there was his name.  I pulled it up and noted the last movement.

Death.

It felt like someone had slapped me in the face, or dashed me with ice water.

He had died the day before.

I called the nurses station and broke the news to them.  Andrews, who was a favorite of his, dropped the phone.

Yeah, he was an inmate, a drug addict, a con man.  But there was something in him that was decent, too, and damn.  I liked him.

i really, really like that old man...

i had impulsively tucked a book - The Kite Runner - into my purse.  I wanted to pass it on to  someone who would appreciate it, and I had just the person in mind.

Dr. H.

He has been so kind to me, and it's so hard to express gratitude and even affection to co-workers without sending signals that could be misconstrued by others.  I wanted to thank him with something aside from the email I sent with the subject line: Almustafa doesn't have much to say..., telling him how I appreciated his kindnesses, and his allowing me to borrow from his extra cup of calm during that first hard year, the email I signed:

much respect,

ms. b

No, I wanted to give him something tangible.  Something he would like.  And so that morning, I impulsively grabbed the book.

I was surprised at how his eyes lit up, and how he told me he had been looking for middle eastern fiction to read, and how he was sincere.  We talked books and poetry for a while, my last day as a true employee, and I can honestly say that once again, he loaned from his cup of calm and quiet. 

Seldom do I meet someone I connect with on a deeper level, but the moment I first saw him, I knew.  I recognized him.  It was his dry sense of humor, in the beginning.  And later it was his youthfulness, and yet again - his kindness.  Sometimes, it was that tired look behind his eyes, when the stress was a little too much, and other times it was even his curt responses when he was in a bad mood.  I just LIKED the man.

Today, I worked at the prison, where I'm filling in two days a week until they hire someone to replace me.  I made it a point to stop by Dr. H's office.  As always, he extended his hand - and quite frankly, when I extended mine back, it was in lieu of a hug.

We talked for a bit, and then he reached behind him to his desk and handed me a book.  He had told me about it on my last real day there, and he brought it for me.  Had it waiting.

I thanked him and promised to bring it back as soon as I was finished and he said,

No, that's yours to keep.  It's high on my bookshelf. 

And then he patted the one I had given him, which was on the desk, too. 

And so is this one.

I really, truly, sincerely and unequivocally like that old man.

Much respect, Dr. H. 

Ms. B.

what a difference!

you never know what's killing you until you move past it.

this is my fourth day on the old new job, and i feel like a different woman.  i have energy, i'm in a great mood - i'm sliding into my old slot AND new ones.  i transcribed my first discharge summaries today.

for as long as i worked in medical, i never transcribed, except to put in UR's for approval, and that was from paper to screen.  my co-worker and friend, roberta, decided today was the day to introduce me to the doctor's voices. she wants to do it slowly, because one doc is from afghanistan, one from korea, one from india and the other is actually from the US and i can understand her.  for my first summary, i chose Dr. Lee, from Korea.  might as well jump into the deep end.

i learned the machine.  i learned the setup on the computer.  roberta was/is a very patient teacher.  such a sweet woman, too.  she has suggested that when i have some background behind me, i sign part time with a transcription service and make some serious extra bucks. 

and it struck me - the word, transcription, has been rolling in my head for the last year.  several people have brought it up to me.  you know how the lord always lands you where you're supposed to be...?  well, poor God has been yelling "transcription!  that's ONE of your answers!" at me for at least a year, and hard-headed me didn't hear Him.

at the smoking area today:

sgt. hicks talking about an influx of 4000 troops and their dependents at the nearby military base.  that's a heck of a lot of people...i sense growth in this end of the county very soon.

the first aid nurse talking about inmates from my old place of employment coming in.  i was half-tempted to see which officers transported them in, just to say hi.

officer london:  hey, traitor!

me:  traitor?  what do you mean?

london:  you left us for medium custody!

me:  but i'm BACK now!

london:  my apologies, and welcome back, young lady.

oh!  and P.A. Mackey gave me a gift certificate to Walmart as a going away gift from the other facility.  I spent the whole thing on make up - and let me tell you..if a mascara boasts 2000 calories, it's a serious thing.  i tried it, and if it were chocolate...we'd ALL be in trouble.

i just feel SO good!

and i don't look half bad right now, either.  amazing what relaxing can do for you. 

:-D

i'm done rambling now.

off adventuring

it's hard to tell whether or not this is some kind of midlife crisis, or if i'm finally getting off my duff and concentrating on living.

i have charted a course for adventure, have gone through the wishes i had done that and now plan to make it a reality.

first on the list - i'm becoming involved in emergency services.  it's the best way, i think, to give back to the community.  not sure what area of es...i'm thinking first responders.  i'll need some courses.

next...i want to GO places i've never been.  maybe take the grandkids with me.  it's always fun when you have someone else to share with.  museums, boat rides...salt water fishing.  camping!  never done that.

life is too short to spend it in limbo.  i'm gonna strike while the iron and inspiration are hot, and make the most of it.

yeah!

 

happy friday

it was 80 degrees here yesterday - a bit too warm for this time of year, but that's how it's been all winter.  today it will be 30 degrees cooler.  just in time for the weekend.

started my new old job.  the first day was great - only encountered one inmate, the phone only rang five times, and the day flew by.  it was quiet.  just what the doctor ordered...when it was closing time, i left work where it belongs.  it's like a vacation.

and still it will take adjustment.  there's no adrenalin rush, and that's fine...i've decided to take some courses so i'll have something to fall back on in my old old age, just in case. i wouldn't mind doing medical transcription from home.  saves on gas, etc.

and i've decided to take some downtime all the way around.  or at least strike out in different directions.  a change of pace, a change of scenery.  we all need that from time to time.

have a great weekend, peoples :-)