#95 - DDB

I have the utmost respect for mothers of handicapped children.  They are so tough.  #95 is one of the toughest.  Her daughter was born with a rare condition that has affected all of the muscles in her body.  The result is that she has a daughter who is mentally fine.  Extremely smart and clever, in fact.  A child with a body that doesn't support her.  Her daughter cannot walk, crawl, or roll over.  She cannot breath on her own.  She cannot get in and out of her wheelchair without the help of one or two other people.  She cannot hold her head up without support.  I could go on and on.  This child is the youngest of three children and her two brothers are also a handful with learning disabilities in school and behavior problems, most likely the result of trying to wrestle attention away from their fragile, medically unstable sister.

I know a lot of people who could not handle this.  I know no one who would want to handle this.  But... you know the saying, "God does not give you more that he thinks that you can handle."?  I know this is true, because the moms that he picks to take care of these kids are made of tough stuff.  There are days that this mom just crys.  Locks herself in her bathroom (once everything is taken care of and everyone is stable for the moment) and just bawls.  But them, she blows her nose, dries her eyes, and gets back to doing what she must.  Take care of her child.  Often times without help.  To make matters worse, her husband was diagnosed with cancer and needed extensive treatment which required him to take a medical retirement.  Now, not only does she have three children to take care of, she has a sick husband to care for, and no income.  Sure, she has the sympathy of her parents and siblings, but really on a day to day basis...it is her.  Just to give you a very small idea of what I am talking about.  In a one hour session of physical therapy, we may have to suction out her daughter's lungs 3-4 times because she is turning blue from lack of oxygen.  To put it into perspective for you non-medical readers...this means that if we did not suction out her lungs, she would die.  This is a worry for me for the hour that the child is in therapy.  It is a worry for her mom, 24/7.  No breaks.  No time-outs.  To top it off, because this child is so smart and wants as normal of a life as possible, this mom has enrolled her child in a regular school, and goes with her everyday and sits in the back of the classroom.  She stays out of the way, until she hears the alarms go off on her daughter's ventilator that means her daughter needs her stat.  She does this not because it is easy, but because it makes her daughter happy.

I know my writing cannot possibly explain exactly this situation, but I will tell you what this has taught me in the many years that I have treated this child...

Count my many blessings including my healthy children...Say an extra prayer for this family often...I hope I am learning the lesson that I think God is trying to teach me, which is, Do not complain because there are so many people whose lives are so much harder than mine and whose challenges are a million times more daunting.  I hope that if God ever has to teach me a lesson from this book, I have some of the backbone that he put into this mom.

#94 - RE

The posts of people that I do not love are few and far between.  I think this is because the people that I do not like, I do not keep around me long enough to make much of an impression or bother me too much.  This is the truth about #94.  He was my sort of boss for just a little while.  Whenever I started practicing as a PT, I use to do contract work on the side.  I could pick and choose my patients, and the money was good for pretty easy work.  While doing this type of work, I met several therapists who did a really poor job because they had no one supervising them, and the different agencies were desparate for a therapist to fill the need.  I can honestly say without feeling boastful, that I have never treated a patient with anything but the utmost respect and provided the best quality of care that I possible can, no matter what the payor type, the patient diagnosis, or the setting of the care provided.  It has never been about the money for me, but about helping people.  This is why #94 really, really made me mad.  Mad enough to quit his job and basically tell him to shove it.  Once again, being outright mean is not easy for me, but when someone tries to tell me what to do for the wrong reason, it is much easier to be mean.  OK, enough vagueness (is this a word???) on with the story...

I was treating this elderly lady who had a total knee replacement.  She was the mother of a friend of a friend.  Anyway, the family was very involved in her care and was always present during therapy sessions and were willing to do anything that they could to help out.  This patient was progressing from her surgery and was needing less therapy.  Then she had a minor stroke and regressed in all of her gross motor skills.  In a nutshell she needed more therapy.  Prior to her stroke, I was in the process of seeing her once a week and planned to discharge her within the next 1-2 visits.  After her stroke, I re-assessed her status and since she had shown regression, I recommended to the family that she stay in therapy and her frequency be increased to three times a week.  They agreed with this assessment because again, they were willing to do anything to help their loved one.  I filed the appropriate paperwork, sent her doctor a note letting him know my plan, and set up her visits for the following week. 

Then came the phone call from #94 with a summons to his office.  Let me interject here that, #94 is not and never has been a medical professional in any sense of the word.  He is a business owner, period.  So, he calls me in and proceeded to chew me out.  The basis of this verbal beat down is that I was out of line changing this patient's plan of care without consulting him (#94).  I should not have talked to the family or the doctor without first consulting HIM.  He basically said in so many words, that this lady was probably going to die soon and he would be losing too much money if I continued to see her because she wasn't going to live long enough for them to make money on her case.

I tell you...I saw RED!!!!!!!!  Who is the h?*# does he think he is?  He wants me to make medical decisions based on his bottom line??????  Not only is this highly unethical, it is ILLEGAL!  Not to mention, what kind of person thinks like this???  What if said patient was his mother?  Anyway, I quit on the spot. (side note - the only job I have ever quit)  I don't think he thought I would given my normally passive personality.  Over the next few months I received several phone calls from him with offers of more money, better patients, less drive time etc. to let it blow over and come back to work for him.  He was not happy that I called the doctor and the family and told them why I was not going to be treating this patient anymore.  Yes, the real reason.  Was he out of his mind???  Obviously he had no clue who I was and what my personal ethics/morals are.

Now, I"ll be the first to admit, I am naive when it comes to this kind of stuff.  I am never going to be a ruthless business owner in the medical field.  I care too much about feelings, quality, and what is right to let my bottom line get in the way of what I know needs to be done.  I know there are plently of people out there who feel differently.  I know that as our grand old government works hard to make medical providers work harder for less pay, the people like #94 will emerge from under rocks and take over the medical system.  Good people will not be paid what they are worth and good quality care will not be rewarded.  I may never make a million on my business practice, but I will NEVER sell out like #94! 

#93 - BMT

Blessed

Music: Elton John

Lyrics: Bernie Taupin

Hey you, you're a child in my head

You haven't walked yet

Your first words have yet to be said

But I swear you'll be blessed

I know you're still just a dream

your eyes might be green

Or the bluest that I've ever seen

Anyway you'll be blessed

And you, you'll be blessed

You'll have the best

I promise you that

I'll pick a star from the sky

Pull your name from a hat

I promise you that, promise you that, promise you that

You'll be blessed

I need you before I'm too old

To have and to hold

To walk with you and watch you grow

And know that you're blessed

I don't know how many of you know this song, but I love it and it will always remind me of my first born. (Click here to hear it)  It seems as though when I was pregnant, it was on the radio every time I turned it on.  I sang it a lot, and I thought about the baby growing inside me each time.  Your eyes may be green (like mine) or the bluest the I've ever seen (like Jeff's)...guess which one we got.

Today is my baby's 14th birthday.  My baby now towers over me by at least 6".  His feet and hands are bigger than mine.  More and more often I see less boy and more teenager, but he is still my Blake.  He is very sweet and kind and I can always count on him.  There are so many wonderful things about Blake that I could go on and on, but I will just try to highlight the things that make him special to me:

Blake is very articulate... (translation - He talks a lot)   I never thought that I would tell one of my children to shut up...but I have to admit, I've said it to Blake.  The good part of the constant chatter is that he is very smart and very inquisitive.  He knows a lot about a lot and loves to discuss everything under the sun.  He can strike up a conversation with anyone:  adults, kids, girls, elderly, people in the grocery store (hmmm who does this sound like?)  We tease him constantly about all the talking, but it makes Blake who he is.  One phrase that he has heard more than once is..."Blake, there is a reason that God gave you 2 ears and 1 mouth."

Blake can do anything that he sets his mind to.  I hope this doesn't embarass him (but I've found very little that does), but this past summer, he decided that he wanted to slim down and get healthy...so he did.  He started to count his calories and began a stricter exercise program and next thing you know...Slim and Trim.  I am so proud of him.  It is so hard to lose weight.  He learned about calories and fat gram and moderation and applied the formula of eat less and move more and made it work for him.  I am so proud of him and all of his hard work.

Blake loved Thomas the Train for a really long time.

All of this new food knowledge cultivated two new hobbies that Blake has embraced...gardening and cooking.  This past year, he planted his own garden.  He grew all kinds of veggies and spices.  He then proceeded to dehydrate them and can the spices.  We now have homemade basil, oregano, rosemary, and other spices to cook with.  We also ate plenty of his cucumbers and peppers.  He is following in my footsteps and is becoming a great chef...  (just kidding, wanted to see if ya'll were still with me).  All the men in our family cook and Blake is no exception.  His specialies are scrambled eggs, homemade mac and cheese, chicken noodle soup, and salsa.  Ymmmm!  He loves to try out new receipes and if he would just learn how to clean up as he goes...

Uncle D gave Blake this Tigger costume for Halloween. 

He is a great student.  He breezed through elementary school with very little problems, and is doing great in his first year of high school.  He is planning on playing tennis this year for the terriers.  For my Christmas present this year, he gave me and CD of original recording of Christmas songs that he made for me on his guitar.  It is awesome and I am so impressed.

This is when Blake was a page for Houmas and Jeff was a Duke.

I could go on and on and on, but because I just love pictures, especially of my boys, I'll stop here and show you a few more of my favorite pics of B-man.

This was our first snow skiing trip to Breckinridge.  I did not know how Blake would do since he was afraid of heights, but after 1/2 a day of ski school he skiied like a champ!

Blake took Tae Kwon Do for about 2 years and got his Black Belt.

He swims like a fish and loves to tube.

His first play was an Oompa Loompa and Grandpa in Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.

Man, I love this kid!  Happy Birthday Blake!

#92 - FH

When Jeff and I were in elementary school, our school priest was Father Hemingway.  He took over for Father Fleming in 1980 so I was 10 years old and probably in the 5th grade.  When I was in school, I remember thinking he was a great priest.  He was responsible for getting the new church built so we didn't have to have mass in the cafeteria each Sunday.  When he built the new church, it was very modern.  By modern, I mean no statues, no kneeler, and no stained glass.  The church was pink and slanted from the back to the front.  He said that this was so he could see everyone when he was sitting on the alter.  He loved both Jeff and I and we both considered him a friend. 

He married us on January 8th, 1993 and I remember him adding lots of special touches to the sermon to make it extra special.

                                                    

                                        

 This is a picture of Father Hemingway at Blake's christening.  He had lost all of his hair and was in a wheelchair because he was dying of cancer.  But...you can see by the look on his face, that he was happy for us and proud of our new baby boy.  I'm not exactly sure when Father Hemingway passed away, but I'm thinking it was sometime in the year 2000.  I just know that he is missed.

#91 - PPL

Most of you know that I have a very close knit family.  My parents grew up on the same street and even today my parents and my grandparents still live only a few houses apart.  This is why is was especially hard to lose both of my grandfathers in such a short time span.  This post is about my mom's dad, PaPa Lloyd.  He has been missing from our lives for a couple of years now, but is never far from our thoughts.  I know I think about him many times each week and I know many of my faithful readers do too.  That we miss him is a given, but I hope that this post will make you smile and not be sad and I recount the things that endeared him to me.

My grandfather worked for Texaco.  This was not uncommon for men his age who lived in this town.  Not a week goes by that I don't have a patient in that age group who comes into my office who does not know PaPa Lloyd.  They all remember that he was a wonderful cook offshore and I have heard many, many stories about his breakfasts.  I tell them that I know all about that because when I was in high school, PaPa Lloyd would come over several mornings a week to cook us breakfast.  Only as an adult can I truly appreciate this.  I just wish I would have paid more attention to the "how" of cooking and not just the eating...but that is another story for another post. 

Cooking was a gift that PaPa Lloyd had and shared with everyone.  Many people remember him for his jambalayas and many other meals that he cook at the KC hall at St. Francis.  He was very active with the Knights of Columbus and was always volunteering to help in any way he could.  My mom always says that he made the best green salad in the world.  I was not a salad eater back in the day, but she swears that they key to his salads was that he cut up all of his ingredients into fine pieces that made it taste extra fresh.

Another one of his gifts was wood-working.  He spent many hours in his shed stripping pieces of furniture and building and re-building tables, chairs, and armoires.  He built me a desk/vanity that I used in college, my first few apartments, and later for my kids to do homework/art on.  He helped me to finish the unfinished furniture I bought when I thought that I could save some money and make my table and chairs look like something out of Pottery Barn.  He went to the old school board office and found me 15 old antique school chairs, and then cut and pieced them together to make met a set of eight dining room chairs.  He did try to teach me to varnish and stain a couple of times...but I must have too much of my dad in me, because it didn't take. :(

I also remember as a child many trips out to Last Island to stay at the fishing camp.  I remember very cool bunk beds, fishing off the pier, and once even catching MaMa Gladys' jacket with my hook.  I remember him sitting on the end of the pier shucking oysters and eating them raw.  (Another thing I didn't really pick up and love).  My brother Darren got his love of fishing from PaPa Lloyd and I can still remember when he caught his first 32# bull red with PaPa Lloyd.  He must have only been about 7 or 8 at the time.

When I started practicing therapy in my old building, PaPa Lloyd needed several rounds of therapy.  It was then that I got to know him more as an adult and I heard the stories about how he got the scrapnel in his arm and shoulder in WWII, and other injuries that caused lifelong pain in his back and elbow.  He never complained, as I find so many men of his era don't.  No whining about being drafted.  No crying because of the injuries they sustained and the sacrifices that they made for their country.  He was a proud Veteran and at his funeral, he received a very touching memorial from the United Veterans league.  Once he started to feel the slight effects of Parkinson's disease, he use to show up at my office every few days at 1:00 PM.  He would drink a cup of coffee, visit with the other patients who he either knew or made friends with, and then get on the treadmill to walk awhile or on the mat to do some leg exercises.  He would stay for about an hour and then head out either to home or to the KC hall.

He loved my kids and would always ask them what kind of ball they were playing.  Even towards the end of his life when he really did not talk too much, every now and then he would ask one of them how baseball was going.  He was a coach for many years when he was younger and I have many patients who tell stories of these times.

It is really hard to put down in words why you love someone.  My PaPa Lloyd was not a big talker, but I know he loved me.  I miss him a lot and I know the rest of the family does too.  I know that he is in heaven, cooking up a storm, visiting with old friends and making new ones.

#90 - BB

This is not a person...it is people.  They are twins.  They are boys.  They play tennis.
They are...the Bryan Brothers!!!!!

I first got interested in the Bryans when I went to the Clay Court Championships in Houston, Texas.  I was going to see all the big names...Agassi, Roddick, Sampras etc, but because of the way the tournment was set up, the marquee matches featured not only singles, but doubles.  Whenever you watch tennis on TV, they rarely show doubles matches, but when you think about it, that's what most recreational tennis players play.  At least in Houma.  Only the really fast and the really young play singles, and everyone else plays doubles pretty much.  Anyhow...these guys took the courts the first night and right away, we sat spellbound by how synchronized their movements were.  They bounce together as they wait for a rally to start.  They stop at exactly the same time.  They look very much alike, but die hard fans like myself will tell you that Bob is a lefty and Mike plays right handed.  Bob is bigger than Mike, and Mike has the tendency to get distracted.  Bob pretty much calls the shots (even though he is 2 minutes younger than Mike) and orders Mike around on the court, but occasionally, Mike will have to jump around some and get Bob pumped up.  At least this is how we saw it.  By we, I mean myself, my friend Danna, Sarah Sue Sue, and my mom.  We had a blast.  We spent the entire week alternating between watching live tennis, shopping, and eating.  What fun!  (for me that is).  I think the Bryan Brothers went on to win the tournament, and fans were born.  I have since read a lot about them.  They were coached by their dad until they turned pro. 

Some interesting facts about the Bryans:
1.  Their parents wouldn't let them play against each other in tournaments when they were younger.  If they met up in a draw, they took turns forfeiting.
2.  They have a very cool website called http://www.bobandmike.com/
3.  They have a band called the Bryan Brothers band and just released a new CD.  Mike plays drums and Bob plays keyboard.  Click here to view their new CD.  Click  here to see Andy Roddick rapping Ice Ice Baby with the band.  Funny stuff.
4.  I read a book written by their dad, Wayne Bryan, after he came to Houma to give a tennis clinic.  In the book he said that whenever Bob and Mike would fight, he would make then play tennis holding hands.  I have tried this on my boys as a punishment and you would be amazed how well it works.

Anyway, I included them in my blog because they are great positive role models for kids.  I have seen them play several times since that first tournament and they always take lots of time after each match to sign many autographs.  I am all for positive role models.  They also get a shout out for winning the year end doubles championships and finishing the year ranked as the #1 doubles team in the world.  They have given the world of tennis doubles a huge boost with more TV time and more attendance at tournaments.  I can't wait to see them play in Austrailia in January.  (on TV, not live, shucks)

Here are some fun pics from our trip:

Here are Bob and Mike on the big screen.

Here are the stalkers, I mean #1 fans of the Bryans.

Here are Bob and Mike signing autographs.  Yes, were that close.

Here they are waving to us and giving us the special signal that says, "Thanks for coming."

Even our surprise guest from Houma was able to get Bob to sign her purse!  She just batted her eyes and said, "Hi, Bob!"  Go Ms. Judy!!!!!

#89 - SC

Clues for #89:

Big Fat Guy
Rosacea
Flies like Superman, but in a sleigh...

Can anyone guess?  It's Santa Clause!!!!!
Merry Christmas Everyone!!!!

I love Christmas and I love Santa Clause.  I loved Santa as a child.  I remember waiting and waiting and waiting for Chirstmas Eve to arrive.  I remember drifting off to sleep and hearing his sleigh land on my roof.  I remember waking up in the morning, and waiting , waiting, waiting for mom and dad to tell us it was ok to get up and go see what he left us.  As an adult, I still love Santa Clause.  Even though I find he doesn't leave adults as many present as he does the kids...I love watching my kids faces when we finally let them get up and see what he left for them.

Santa Claus embodies the whole idea of the Christmas season as the time of caring, togetherness and magic.  He makes us believe that whatever we think we can do...we can do.  How else would such a fat guy fit down a chimmney...  How else would he be able to visit so many houses in one night...  How else would he know just the present to get, even when we forget to send him a letter.  It is because he thinks he can.  We can believe and do whatever we set our minds to.  My parents always taught me this, and I have always believed it.  Just like Santa Clause!  He makes my list because he is an important part of my life every year.

I hope everyone in blogger-land has a very Merry Christmas!

#88 - AK

I have a neice who looks just like her daddy.  Her picture could be next to the phrase "daddy's girl."  She loves her daddy and at the same time, she has him wrapped around her little finger. 

She is a girl through and through.

But she loves her little boy cousins.

She makes all of us smile.  She is smart as a whip and knows just how to play each one of her cousins so that they will do what she wants.  They usually let her get her way.  When we go out to dinner, they all fight to sit next to Alice.

Each time I see her, I am taken aback by how aware she is for such a young girl.  I know that she is going to bring us all joy for years to come.  I love you Alice.

#87 - MMH

I have an aunt that has the same name as my mom.  Not just her first name, but her last name too.  It makes it confusing at family gatherings, but we always work it out.  This aunt is #87.  She is the mother of 3 of my boy cousins, and I know how she feels being outnumbered in her own home.  My aunt has always been very supportive of me. She is quick to say that I was the most beautiful baby that she had ever seen. She always compliments my complexion.  

When I was younger, I remember going over to her house to let her cut my hair.  She would sit me down at the table, put a plastic collar on me, and spray my hair with a water bottle.  Squirt...squirt...squirt.  I remember not liking being squirted.  I remember thinking..."Does she know that she is squirting water not only on my hair, but on my neck?  Does she realize it is dripping down my face?  Does she not care?"  Obviously one of those teenage, girl, hormone times to be indignant.  I remember one time, she was squirting and cutting, and I was frowning.  Everytime she would squirt, I would jump out of the way dramatically...but not say anything.  Very passive-aggressively.  (I'm so glad I outgrew that... ha ha)  As an adult, I realize that she was probably laughing at me when she calmly said, "Gosh, if I didn't know that you were on the swim team, I would think you were afraid of water the way you are squirming."

She is very religious and can always be counted on to offer up extra prayers when I call her for help.  I appreciate this, and I admire her dedication to her prayer life.  I could use some of her committment.  I have been working on this area of my life and I'll be the first to admit, it is not always easy to make the time to pray.  I hope one day, my neices and nephews think of me when they need extra prayers offered.

So, to help me along, I stole this prayer off of the internet, and will offer it for all of my relatives today.  Feel free to steal it too.

In Gratitude for Family and Friends 

Blessed are You, loving Father, for all Your gifts to us. Blessed are You for giving us family and friends to be with us in times of joy and sorrow, to help us in days of need, and to rejoice with us in moments of celebration... Father, we praise You for Your Son Jesus, Who knew the happiness of family and friends, and in the love of Your Holy Spirit. Blessed are You for ever and ever. Amen.

Update to #86

Update to #86 - And the winner is, Sarah Sue Sue, who correctly remembered that it was not flying pigs...it was flying donkeys and it was called, "Going on Safari."  Strong work Sarah (and I'm sure Dean).  Let's see if you can remember that after you celebrate your 20 year high school reunion...
   (I was also reminded by my mom, that she taught me 11th grade English and Brother Alfred taught me 12th grade English.  Wow...tough week.  See corrected grade)

#86 - BA

Since I started this blog, many people have told me that I am a good writer.  I have two people to thank for any skills that I have in this area.  The first person is my mom, who was an English teacher, and drilled writing from a young age.  The second person is #86, Brother Alfred Kolb.  For those of you who did not have the privledge to be taught by Brother Alfred, some of what I will say, may sound odd.  But for many of my blog readers, I know they will be remembering senior English in the last room, downstairs, on the Senior High hall.

He always had a stern face when teaching, but his twinkling blue eyes showed that he really was a softie at heart.  He loved to teach, and kept students interested in his classes, but was quick to slam down a book to get the class's attention when needed.  He also loved to call you by the name of the person who sat in you desk 40 years before you.  Jeff and I were discussing the specifics of this, but we may have gotten it wrong.  Whenever a student wrote or spoke a sentence that had a dangling participle, Brother Alfred would stop class and send that student to the windows to look outside.  "Do you see it?"  he would ask.  "See what?"  the student would reply.  "The flying pigs?  Because that's the only time you can end a sentence with a participle that does not have a direct object...when pigs fly."  (I'll be waiting for comments for those of you who remember this, or for those of you who had to go and look.)  Brother Alfred was also the moderator of the Terrier Times, which was our school newspaper.  He was a kind, but strict editor, and often would send back a story several times before he deemed it worthy for print.  After graduation, he kept alumni in touch by printing tidbits in the annual newsletter from all of his former students who wrote him.  Before he retired from teaching here, and moved back to Mississippi, he was a regular at all local weddings from VC alumni.  He would make his rounds to all of the tables, sampling food and putting names with faces of all of his former students.  Brother Alfred passed away at the age of 90 years old in 2007.  The twinkle in his eye is no more, but his legacy and the lessons that he taught his students live on.  He not only taught us English and writing, he taught us about dedication to his job and God, loving what you do and taking the time to do each job right.  What a role model!  Whenever I attend meetings or events in the Kolb center which was named after Brother Alfred, I remember this wonderful teacher, Brother, and friend.   

#85 - BH

Because I have been a part of Jeff's family (unofficially since I was 16), #85 totally counts as a cousin by marriage.  She is actually Jeff's cousin.  She was the cool one who got to babysit for Jeff and his sister on their many visits to Lake Arthur when they were young.  She let them watch rated R movies.  She taught them all of the words to Bop She Bop from Grease.  As they got older, she asked Jeff to be the godfather of her daughter.  They have a great relationship and therefore so do she and I.  We do not get to Lake Arthur often enough and vice versa, but whenever we are together it is as if we just pick up where we left off last time.  I have found all of Jeff's relatives from Lake Arthur to be what I call "good people."  They are the kind of people who will give anyone the shirt off of their backs.  They will do anything to help out and have.  Whenever hurricaines go West, the whole extended family packs up and heads here.  Whenever hurricaines head East, we head there.  We bring extended family and friends and all are welcome.  Their generosity and kindness extends to all that we know because they love us.  That's just how they are.  I remember #85 and her family making the trip down, just for the day, Blake's first birthday.  They have been here for christenings and weddings.  We head their way for family reunions and birthdays.  How nice to have family that you can count on.  #85 is a kid person.  She loves babies and usually you can see her rocking whatever baby is closest.  She spends her days now taking care of her great nephews, neices, and her grandbaby, and is about to be a grandmother for the second time.  She keeps up with my kids by writing them letters that they love to get in the mail, and they love to write her back.  I'm not sure how she got her nickname, but we all call her Beasy.  She is a great person, and I am glad she is a part of my life and the life of my family.

#84 - DP

One of my PT school instructors stood out above all of the others combined.  This was #84.  He just got it.  He know how hard we had to work.  He knew when we needed a break.  He knew when to reschedule a test.  In short, he just knew.  He loved to take breaks and tell jokes.  We loved when he did.  He was very skilled at explaining complicated theory.  He brought it down to our level.  He is a great therapist and a great person.  Whenever I see him at conferences, he always remembers my name and what class I was in.  In my next life, I want to be good at that too.  A few years after we graduated, he was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis.  From what I have heard, he is doing well and it is a slow progression.  I wish him well, and I am very glad that he chose to use his skills to teach.  Definitely an under paid, under appreicated profession.

#83 - MB

Ever want to strangle someone else's kid?  I know you have.  I have.  This is the story of MB, who was the older brother of one of my pediatric home health patients.  Now, don't get me wrong, I understand why he was so rotten.  He was the older brother who was forgotten once he had a younger sister with a terminal illness.  He did it all for attention.  But...I would have been glad to talk with him, or even go outside and play instead of the way he got my attention.

One day I was treating his sister.  We were on the floor and we were practicing crawling.  Try to get this picture in your brain.  Basically, I was kneeling up tall and she was in front of me on all 4's.  I had my hands on her hips and was helping to support her in a crawl position.  Her muscles in her trunk were too weak for her to hold herself, so really, I was doing a lot of the work.  Well, MB had been hanging around, talking loud, getting in our way, knocking her over etc.  You get the picture.  Then, I guess he decided that he wasn't aggrevating us enough, so he goes into the kitchen and fixes himself a bowl of cereal (with milk) and proceeds to sit down next to us on the floor and starts to eat.  Then he scoots closer...looks back at the kitchen to see where his mom is...then closer...looks...and then, he leans over and dumps his bowl of cereal (with milk!) down the back of my pants in the gap at my waist!  AHHHH!!!!!! 

Didn't see that one coming did you!  Me either!  I just knew that mom was going to come in and beat the you know what out of him...but... no.  She laughed.  Seriously.  At that point I wasn't sure if I wanted to strangle her or the kid more.  Anyway, I just smiled and said..."Session over!"  But you know what they say, everything that goes around...comes around.  The last I heard, said boy had gotten kicked out of his 3rd elementary school.  It was the school's fault, of course.

#82 - CP

I have not seen this friend in many years.  Even though she does still live in Houma, I can on one hand the number of times that I have seen her since we left elementary school.  Before that however, is a different story.  CP was a friend from Kindergarten - 7th grade.  She and I and one other girl were all good friends.  Every Friday, it was always who was going to ask whom to sleep at their house first.  I remember that we got to ride the bus home with that person.  I remember having so much fun just doing nothing.  We would sit around and talk.  We would occasionally go outside and practice our cartwheels, round-offs, and in the case of #82 (not me) backhandsprings.  She was always very good at gymnastics.  It was because of her that I got my mom to sign me up for Saturday morning gymnastics at Southdown gymnasium.  I remember the teacher looking at me shaking her head and saying, " Could you try to be a little more graceful on the beam, and less choppy with your motions."  (like I knew what that meant?!?)  I never could flip, I could not really jump, I really wasn't that graceful, and I hated the leotard.  I remember, mine was maroon.  Yuck!  #82's was navy with a white strip down the side.  The fact that she looked better than me, must have been what made the difference because she could flip (several times in a row in fact), she could jump (on the beam no less), and she could move from one uneven bar to the next, while I really just hung there for awhile and dangled my feet (but...with my toes pointed :).  Anyway, she went on to public school after elementary ended, and ended up being a cheerleader for her junior high, and then high school.  When I do see her, it's like we just talked yesterday, and we revert back to that easy conversations that we always had.  I heard recently from my mom, that her mom is very ill.  I will include her and her family in my prayers.  I will also say it one more time...there is nothing like an old friend.

#81 - KV

I really do not remember taking a professional photograph until I took my high school senior pictures.  I remember getting the name of #81 from a friend who had used him to take her senior pics.  When I went to meet with him, I remember being very pleased with the number of pictures he took, the quality, and most especially the price.  He was just starting out as a photographer on the East side of town, and his studio was set up in the back room of a mechanic's garage next door to his trailer.  Now, for those of you who I have embarrased with pictures so far, here is where I get even with myself.  How about these shots????

At the time, I was so impressed.  I mean, I really was a nerd in high school, so it's hard to make me look this cool.

(Nice red flats!)

Several years later, Jeff and I asked #81 to be our wedding photographer.  He was still on the East side, but was now working out of the trailer that he had converted from his home to his office.  His prices were still great and we booked him.  He actually was able to talk Jeff and my dad into taking these great shots.

But seriously, he was able to capture many many great moments from our wedding that I treasure.

When the time came for us to start bring our kids for professional photographs, you guessed it...I went to see #81.  But... in the 3 years between our marriage and our first baby, #81 moved on up...and out... of the garage.  He opened his own studio in town and has been very successful.  Too successful for us.  His prices were our of our price range and I have not used him again.  Still, I appreciate that I was able to get the benefit of his expertise before he realized how talented he was.  Thanks #81!

#80 - TA

#80 is my godfather.  He is also my uncle.  He has always lived in the Baton Rouge area, so I did not always get to see him very often, but the times that I do see him are always memorable.  These are a few stories about Uncle Tony that I remember growing up.

He is very accident prone.  This is why I say this:
- One year for Christmas, my dad had a skateboard ramp build for my brother.  We are not talking two bricks and a board...we are talking a full fledged, took up the entire backyard, not a half-pipe, but a full pipe skateboard ramp.  Let's just say that Uncle Tony's nickname is not Tony Hawk.  5 seconds after his debut on the ramp...we were in the car on our way to the hosptial to set a broken wrist.

-I do not remember where this was, but I remember riding with my Uncle Tony from Baton Rouge to some sort of a lake house/cabin in some woods???  The two things that I remember about this trip is that we stopped at a gas station and he let me buy 2 packs of grape Bubble Yum and encouraged me to eat one after another until both packs were gone.  You know how Bubble Yum flavor goes away in like 10 - 20 seconds...well with Uncle Tony, that was ok, you just threw that old gum out the window and popped the next one in.  I remember this being very cool...but also thinking that my mom would not think it was so cool.  (in retrospect, probably not my dentist either)

- On the same trip that I just mentioned (did I already mention that Uncle Tony is accident prone?), I remember that about 5 minutes after we got there and met up with the rest of the family,  Uncle Tony grabbed a vine from a tree, and proving his name is not Tarzan either, tried to swing from one bank to another and...you guessed it...fell and broke his leg.  Another trip to the hospital.

- Now, I cannot really say that I witnessed this story because I think it happened when my parents were growing up...but rumor has it that when Uncle Tony was a younger lad...he threw a brick up in the air to see how high it would go and ... you guessed it... it came back down and hit him on the head resulting in... a trip to the hospital and stitches.

-  And so it goes with Uncle Tony.  He also is the proud father of 4 boys and 1 girl.  When his daughter was little, he let her have a pet potbelly pig that they kept in the backyard.  He makes me laugh and keep 911 on speed dial whenever he is around.  How can you not love that combo!  Love ya Uncle Tony!

#79 - Timo

#79 has been a friend for a long time.  He grew up next door to me as the older brother of my #28 post.  He is about the same age as my brother and they have always been friends.  He has an adorable daughter who loves her daddy and he is nearing completion of a new home which looks awesome (from the outside...I still need the tour).

My favorite things about #79 are:

1.  He always remembers my birthday.  From time to time during the year, I'll see him out and about and he'll say..."September 29th."  I always thought this was so sweet and one day I asked him how on earth he remembers my birthday all year long.  He laughed and told me it was because his was 4 days later and when we were little, he knew when my birthday came, his was right around the corner.

2.  He loves my kids.  Whenever we see him, he takes the time to talk to each of them.  He remembers their interests and always makes them feel important.

3.  He is an gadget freak like me and the iphone app wizard.  I have gotten my coolest apps from his suggestions.  Whenever my kids and I are around him with itouches/iphones, it's a race to see who has the coolest new app.

Like I have said before and I'm sure I'll say again.  There is nothing like old friends!

#78 - SD

When I moved into the dorm in college, I met all kind of new people.  Coming from a private school in a small town, I was pretty sheltered.  #78 was a girl that I met who was not so sheltered.  She was majoring in speech therapy and was from New Orleans.  She had gone to an all girls school, but had definitely been around her share of boys.  I'll leave it at that.  Anyway, what I remember the most about her, is that our first semester of school, she started to get real close to one of the guys that was a dorm monitor.  I'm not sure exactly how they met, because he wasn't in charge of our dorm, but I remember seeing him there a lot.  Anyway, they started out as friends, and then she started to really really like this guy.  Sounds fine, right?  The problem came in because he was African-American.

Now I can say that even though I was brought up in the South, I am not prejudice.  I feel that a person has to be judged on their words and actions, not the color of their skin.  That being said, I can see the issues that arise from mixed marriages.  My friend struggled with all of this.  Telling her parents, telling his parents, projecting about the what the future would hold and if they had children, the possible problems that they would face.  At the time, and coming from such a small town, it was not as common as it is now.  I remember spending a lot of time talking with her about it.  The end of this story is not real dramatic.  I think that they went on a few dates, and that was about it.  I kinda lost touch with her after college and have no idea where she is now.  She is truly a person whose road crossed mine at a certain point in my life, and then continued on in another direction. 

I remember going to spend a weekend at her house in Kenner.  She lived right by the airport and I stayed up all night listening to the planes take off and wondering if the next one was going to land on her house.  I remember that she kept talking up a really fun place to go out in N.O.  Talk about shocked when she brought us to a gentleman's club for the night.  Talk about country come to city!

Anyway, she made the list because she was a good friend for about 2 years and then we parted ways.  Recalling her boyfriend makes you think though.  It also makes you ponder this quote

One day our descendants will think it incredible that we paid so much attention to things like the amount of melanin in our skin or the shape of our eyes or our gender instead of the unique identities of each of us as complex human beings. ~Franklin Thomas

Things are so different now than when my parents were growing up.  Hopefully when my kids are my age, people will be judged by who they are and not what they look like.

#77 - JP

This post is for a co-worker.  When I told her that her name was coming up, she asked me to be kind.  How could I not.  I owe her.  There are several reasons that I owe her.  First of all, when I hired her, I called her Tiffany for about 2 months.  As you can tell from her initials above, that is not her name.  Second of all, she is the one who can clear my schedule when I need some time off.  This is a daunting task at times, but she seems to always make it work out.  And third... she saved me from a receptionist that I will just call Terrible.  When #77 was hired, she took over the reigns from someone who had only been with me about 6 weeks, but had managed to screw up about 6 months worth of work (maybe even 12).  #77 took a good look, got out a yellow note pad, and got to work.  About a month later, I was asking her to find something and I said to her, "Look in one of your piles."  She looked at me and said, "I don't have any piles."  I love it...no clutter at her desk, no work left unfinished, no piles.  She is very no nonsense and to the point, but this attitude serves her well when dealing with insurance verification companies.  Passing by her desk a few weeks ago, I heard her say to the agent on the phone, "No, I will not fax the progress notes again, but I will hold on while you go look for the 3 sets that I have already faxed you."  Impressive.  Does not get excited, but gets results.  She is able to deal with very difficult patients with tact and for the most part can get them to do what she wants, while letting them think that it was all their idea.  As I type, she is busy getting geared up for the implementation of our accounting upgrade which will go online 1/1/10.  I am thankful to her for all the she does, everyday, to make my life easier and my business successful.  I would like to take this opportunity to say..."Thank you, Tiffany"

#76 - DW

For you married folks that are reading, I have a question.  When you look back at your wedding pictures, are the people who you asked to stand up for you and be your bridesmaids and groomsmen still a part of your life?  If you are very lucky, the answer is yes.  For Jeff and I, I'm not sure when it happened, but the people that we were close to then, we don't get to see very often now.  Not for any dramatic reason, but just because life moves on and people change.  We go one way and they went another.  This does not apply to all of the people in our wedding party, but it does apply to # 76.

He was one of our groomsmen and a good friend and classmate of Jeffs both in high school and then in college.  We talk to him or see him from time to time when he returns to Houma for a holiday, and I think Jeff has seen him several times on hunting trips to Texas.  He moved to Texas soon after college and became a cowboy.  He lives on a ranch, I know rides horses, and maybe even ropes cattle.  He loves it.  When you listen to him talk, you can hear it in his twang.  I'm not sure how a cajun developed a twang, but he did.  He is now married and has two (I'm pretty sure) kids.  We met his oldest several years ago and he was the spittin image of his daddy.  He was all talk about roping and ridin too.

Old friends are the best kind.  The ones you never forget.  You recognize their voices as soon as they say "Hello" on the phone, even if years have passed since you spoke to them last.  I was honored to have him as one of Jeff's five handsome groomsmen.  I am glad that he has found a life he loves, even if this means we don't get to see him too often.  Thank God for good friends.

#75 - RH

This is a back to back post for the uncle of my aunt in #74.  I think he was around twelve when I was born.  I was the first granddaughter and was spoiled rotten.  He was the baby boy before I came along.  Still, he loved me and I always loved him.  He tells the story of babysitting me and me playing the song, "The Little Red School House" over...and over...and over...and over until he finally asked my grandmother to please make me stop.  I remember him going to Nicholls and going into the back room at my grandmother's house to study. (or so he had me fooled into thinking).  When I would sneak back there to visit with him, these are some of the things that I remember:

1.  He knew and taught me all of the words to Rapper's Delight by the Sugar Hill Gang.  He had the album and I can still sing from both sides of the record (long version and short version).

2.  He taught me how to spell H-E-LL on the calculator (whisper...and boobs)

3.  One time, he brought me next door, to visit a neighbor who had an 18 wheeler.  I thought I was so cool because they let me sit in the drivers seat and blow the horn.

4.  I remember busting him coming in late from his dates when I was sleeping on the sofabed in the living room...and then trying to wake him up early the next morning.

Even though I love him, I just could not resist some pictures from back in the day.  Sorry Uncle Ronnie, but if you have hair like this, you have to live to regret it. 

But have no fear... the 70's ended and he turned into a clean cut wonderful family man

Love You Uncle Ronnie!

#72 - FH

My dad only has 2 brothers.  That means that I only have 2 aunts on his side.  #72 is one of my aunts.  She is the mother of my godchild and I was so honored when she asked me.  She is not too far away from me in age and we have always gotten along great.  I can remember when my uncle started dating her.  He was in high school (maybe college?) and I can remember her coming around when I was at my grandma's on one of those many Friday night sleepovers.  I always thought that she was so cool.  I remember that she was very skinny and very tall and very quiet.  She has raised 2 of my cousins that I love to death and did a great job.  

Some posts are easier to write than others, and I am finding it hard to express how much I appreciate #72's love and support over the years.  Although she and I have never discussed it, I know that I can call her at any time and she would help me with whatever I need.  I hope she knows that the same applies in reverse.  Searching for inspiration, I found this old Spanish quote on the internet:

“Only an Aunt can give hugs like a mother, can keep secrets like a sister, and share love like a friend.”

~ Spanish Proverb

I know she's got my back if and when I need her. 

Love ya, #72!

#71 - JC

I love handicapped kids.  I love their honesty.  I love their enthusiam for simple things.  I love how they try so hard and can do so much.  They are willing to try things that adults don't even consider because they think it is too hard.  #71 is an exceptional child with Down's Syndrome.  He is probably an adult now, but in my mind, he will always be a kid because I haven' t seen him in 17 years.

He was my very first pediatric home health patient and he was a 15 month old with Down's Syndrome.  He was referred to therapy because he was getting closer to age 2 and wasn't walking yet.  He lived in a house with his very young parents and his grandparents.  Very clean, caring, loving people living together because they could not afford to go our on their own.  His dad was working offshore and his mom was a receptionist at a doctor's office.  His grandparents kept him during the day, so his parents could work for a little over minimum wage.  When I started therapy with him, he had private insurance through his dad's job.  But...I knew that this would end because he was close to meeting his lifetime maximum.  Amazing isn't it?  Not even 2, but because of the many medical problems that he had already had (born 8 weeks premature, airmed to Tulane hospital, heart surgery, neonatal ICU, stomach surgery, etc.) he was about to lose coverage.  And this was 17 years ago.  Anyway, during the course of our treatment, he did lose coverage and became eligible for Medicaid.  For those of you who are not familiar with Medicaid, this is the insurance for the people who fall below the poverty level.  It is subsidized by the federal and state government.  When I treat a patient like #71 with Medicaid, my reimbursement rates drop by 76%.  Amazing isn't it?  Then comes the better part.  Mom working for minimum wage and dad working offshore 7 and 7.  Mom gets paid bi-monthly and dad gets paid every other week.  On the month's that dad has three pay periods in a month time span... you guessed it...the family makes too much money for the month and they are disqualified from Medicaid and have to re-apply the next month.  This means that all medical services have to stop until they can get reinstated.  (Unless your therapist treats you for free :)  Anyway, after about a year of this, you guessed it again.  Mom quits her job because then they can have continuous medical coverage for #71.  The system forced the parents to quit work to get medical insurance for their disabled child.

By having a child with a handicap, these young parents, were locked into a lifetime of struggle and sacrifice.  They did it without remorse, because this is their child, but what kind of a system is this?  Like I said in the beginning, I haven't seen this family in years, but I think about them every time I pass their house. (*see side note below)  I wonder how they are doing.  If the financial struggle got the best of them.  If their marriage survived the stress.  If they have ever gotten out of the hole that they were thrown into when their child was born. 

I am an optimist and I hope the answer to all of those questions are yes.  But...I have worked in this field long enough to know that that is probably not accurate.  I will end this on a positive note and not get into the politics of the healthcare debate.  I am glad that the leaders of this country are starting to realize the crisis that we face in regards to the health of our nation.  I pray that someone will find a solution that makes sense and works.  I hope that #71 is a happy, healthy 19 year old now.  I remember that he gave the best smiles ever! The best kisses ever!  and The last time I saw him, he walked me out of his house to my car with no assistance!

*Side note - They lived out in the country.  They had an electric wired fence that lined their driveway.  The fence was to keep the cows in.  I remember the time that I backed into the electric fence with my royal blue suburban.  Then proceeded to move forward and scratch the entire passenger side of my car with the wire.  And then, let the cows out...  Good times :)  I love you dad!

#70 - GM

Not everyone can have a good hair day everyday.  My hometown is very hot and humid most days of the year, and for someone with wavy, curly hair...that seriously handicaps me for good hair days.  Luckily, I got hooked up with #70 some time ago and he has helped the good days outnumber the bad.

When I moved to New Orleans and started PT school in 1990, I needed to find someone to cut my hair.  At the time, my hair was about shoulder length and pretty unremarkable.  Every day it was usually put in a pony tail.  When I really wanted to get crazy, I would go with a banana clip

.

that would make my hair look like this

Anyway...it was obvious that I needed some help.  One of my friends from high school was in nursing school at the time and recommended #70.  I saw him for a consultation and was sold.  He helped me go from long, to curly and long, to curly and short, to short.  I remember him telling me, "Not everyone can wear short hair.  The reason you like your hair pulled back in a ponytail everyday is because you can wear short hair."  Once he cut my hair short, there was no turning back.  I was sold.  Easy...low maitanence...fast.  Perfect for my lifestyle.  There was that one little lapse when I was pregnant for Zachary and he let me talk him into growing my hair out... but I guess he figured it was the hormones.  Other than that, he gives me great haircuts every 5-6 weeks.  That would be every 5-6 weeks since 1990.  Do the math ( I had to get a calculator)  If I am not too tired to do the math right, that means that I have spent about 190 hours in his company.  Maybe more since the gray's have arrived.  Anyway...I have seen his daughter grow up from a cute little 5 year old who never took off her red cowboy boots and like to sweep in her dad's shop become a college graduate with a fiance.  I have met his wife many times, and was recently invited to their home to help celebrate his 60th birthday.  He has given me advice on running a small business and we discuss how to keep good employees.  He travels all over the U.S. doing hair shows, and has given me some great tips for restaurants for various vacation that I take.  He has been down to Houma and now is the proud owner of a Chevrolet Tahoe. All in all, he is not only the guy who cuts my hair, but a friend.  Thanks for keeping me in style #70 (and for not letting me grow out my hair again!)