#214 - RD

When I first started working I had the honor of working under a verteran...#214.  She had been there many years and was the "office manager."  She scheduled appointments...sometimes, she did billing...sometimes, she answered the phone...sometimes, and she frowned...a lot.  She was a spinster, in her mid-fifties, never been married.  She was not a very attractive lady, and her lack of personality and her frown did not help her out at all.  In other words, she was mean.  I was scared of her... for about 2 days.  Then I just realized that she was mean and standoffish to cover up for the fact that she had no idea what she was doing. 

And so it started...  I probably should feel bad, because the end result was that I got her fired, but I just cannot make myself feel bad.  It started off by me asking easy questions like, "Why is this stack of checks in this folder?"  For some reason, she took offense to this.  Turns out that she did not like to deposit checks into the bank until she had posted the payment to the account and this sometimes took a few weeks.  There also was the time that she called me into her office to reprimand me for making an ink mark (really like the stroke of a pen) on the outside of a patient chart.  She told me that she was calling me into the office so that I would not get in trouble with the boss, because he would be really mad if he saw it.  Yeah right, anyone remember # 169.  Then there was the time that she told me that she thought I should stop wasting so much of "the boss's" time by asking him about patients.  She said that he would get aggravated if I did not leave him alone.  Sigh...  I think it was at this point that I decided that enough was enough and she had to go.  Soooo, I started to point out to "the boss" the things that she was doing that were not right.  This was all around the same time that computers were coming out.  I convinced "the boss" to purchase one.  Then I convinced him to put our office management system on it.  It goes without saying the neither "the boss" or #214 had any clue about the computer and basically were scared of it.  I'll never forget the time that I sat with #214 for about an hour after work to show her how to turn on and off the computer, the monitor, and the printer.  No lie.  The sad part is, she was so resistant to the new technology, that the next thing I knew, I was taking over her job duties...first payroll (she really hated the fact that I now knew how much she made - which I will tell you was way more than she deserved), then billing, then receivables etc. etc. etc.  All the while, I was trying to "train" her, but she was totally resistant to any and all changes.  She wanted to keep "backing up" everything that I put on the computer, on index cards and keep them in a magic box that she kept locked in the safe. 
Double sigh!

Long story long...eventually enough was enough, and she had to go.  I really had nothing against her personally, but her refusal to bend and learn, led to her getting canned...by "the boss."

And that is the story about how I got to be in charge :)

#213 - JHB

I know a little boy with a big heart.  He came into this world with a smile and is still smiling.

He loves all sports and his favorite TV channel is ESPN.  He talks really softly, and runs really fast.  He likes to wrestle and race, and school is not his favorite thing in the world. 
He has wonderful manners and hardly ever forgets to use them. He makes good grades in school AND most of the time, in conduct.

He loves all of his cousins.

Sometimes, his big cousins teach him big boy things like U-tube, pickles I mean freckles I mean pimples, and about scary movies like GI Joe.  (Sorry Mom)

 But he and his cousin Seth are BFFs.

(This is partially because their moms always put them on the same team for carpool reasons!)  

He loves him when they play basketball.

He loves him when they play soccer. 

 He loves him when they play flag football. 

 He loves him when they play baseball. 

He loves him when they play tennis.

He loves him when they just play,

  and when they dress up.

 #213 and Seth are in the same grade and they will be quick to tell you that Seth is bigger, but #213 is older.

  

Today he is having eye surgery so that his vision will be so awesome that he will see if the ball will be a strike before it leaves the pitchers hand...so that he will see the safety trying to tackle him and can cut to get out of the way...and so that he can zone in on the basketball goal and sink all of his free-throws.  I know he is going to do great and I can't wait to SEE him after his surgery (get it???)

I love all my nieces and nephews, and I am happy that my boys have cousins that are so close to their age.  They spend a lot of time together and rarely fuss or right (honestly).  I know that all the memories that they are making now, will be with them their entire lives. 

One of #213's best qualities is his heart.  I'm not sure if he gets this from his momma or his daddy, but I suspect it is a little from both.  Having "heart" is not something that you can teach, you either have it or you don't.  To me this is evident by how hard he plays (no matter what the game), how much fun he has (no matter where he is), and how big his smile is.  To the future Etch-A-Sketch champion of the world!!!!! 

I love you JoJo

#212 - CC

Who remembers their first boyfriend???  Mine was #212.  We were born on the same day so I'm sure it was fate, right?  He was in my class from Kindergarten - 6th or 7th grade, but I think I waited until around 2nd grade or so to let him be my boyfriend (in my mind...I didn't tell him though).  Here is what I remember about #212.

*  He was the smallest boy in our class.
*  His mom was from New Jersey.
*  He had two older sisters that had the cool Farrah Fawcett hairstyle that I wanted and never actually got my wavy hair to achieve.

*  We shared a birthday.
*  One year for Valentine's Day, he got me a silver chain with a metal heart on it from Avon.  He was too shy to give it to me so he put it in my desk, wrapped.  I, of course, saw it the minute I got to school, but was too shy to tell him, so I acted like I didn't see it.  After lunch he finally said, "Look in your desk."  I remember being like, "What???  I don't see anything."  (Sigh!  I was so shy!  Very painful memories.)
*  I think we may have actually "gone out" for one day although I considered him my boyfriend for a long time.  Now that I think about it, maybe it was all in my mind...
*  I have no recollection of him from 4th grade through high school except one day after we had graduated, I read in the paper that he had been shot in the leg.  I have no idea what that was about, but I heard he recovered fine.  I'm glad.

                                   

Anyone ever hear the term "puppy love"

#211 - JB

Know it all's
Toppers
Braggarts

Know any???

#211 is one, but like we all wish...he got his.

I first met him when he applied and I hired him for a job at my office.  His job title was PT technician.  This job requires no formal schooling and no previous experience.  It is basically on the job training where the PT tech learns what he or she needs to do based on the needs of the therapist that they are working with.  Some examples of job duties might include:  laundry, cleaning treatment rooms, bringing patients from the lobby to treatment rooms, bringing proper equipment to patients etc.  These are the job duties that #211 was hired to do.  I'm not sure where he decided that I really did not mean for him to do that job, but instead to do MY job and the job of the other therapists  AND even sometimes the patients referring DOCTOR's job.  His only background in medicine was that he was a medic in the army for about a year and a half.  I am aware that in the service, there are certain privileges that do not translate to the civilian world, but I'm pretty sure passing yourself off a a doctor is not one of them.  I also know for a fact that just because you work out and have muscles, you are not a physical therapist.

Anyway, he lasted about 6 months at my office.  He received numerous marks against his record for advising patients what they should or shouldn't do based on "his experience."  He repeatedly had to be redirected to the laundry room instead of looking at himself in the mirror and working a few dumbbell curls into his daily duties.  Now that I think about it, he kinda reminds me of

Anyway, basically he was fired for being a jerk and an idiot (those are not the official terms that appeared on his discharge papers) and off he went in search of someone else to aggravate.  He eventually got a job at the hospital where I guess it is a little easier to fly under the radar.  I did not hear anything about him for many years, and then one day, he came into my office requesting a meeting with me.  Turns out he was now working at a local "school" that decided that they would start a "program" to graduate Physical Therapy technicians.  If you are paying attention, that is the same job that he previously held at my office...the one where no training is required.  He and his school were charging students $12,000 (yes that is 3 zeros) tuition to teach then how to do something that doesn't need teaching.  He was coming to see me to ask if his "students" could apprentice at my office to complete their field of study before graduation.  Can you believe the nerve???  What a tool and a scam artist.  About a year later, I got a phone call from someone from the same school requesting a meeting with me.  I asked what about and basically she said it was to talk to me about their students apprenticing.  I explained to her that I thought what they were doing was fraud and that I thought it was sinful that they were taking these kids tuition and giving them a "diploma" that did not amount to a hill of beans.  Then I asked what had happened to #211.  I listened, and then I smiled...  Sometimes people do get what was coming to them.  He was in jail and had been terminated from his job for writing prescriptions for medication and passing himself off as a doctor. 

What a jerk!

#210 - YM

We are so fortunate to know freedom of religion.  In our small town, it is even more so than in other places because so many people around us practice the same religion as we do.  This blog post is about someone who had to make life changing decisions for his faith.  As I write this post, it makes me stop and think, "What would I do if I were in his shoes and faced with the same decisions that he was?"

I first met #210 when I was in high school.  My father in law had travelled to Russia on business and while he was there, he met #210 and his wife.  I think his wife worked as an interpreter for the company.  Anyway, several years after the initial trip (I think), #210 contacted my father in law and told him that he would be moving his entire family to America.  In essence, he was defecting from Russia.  The reason for this defection, is the same answer that Zack and I study in social studies all the time.  The reason that immigrants come to our country is to practice freedom of religion and to make a better life for themselves and for their children.  This is the same reason #210 came.  He brought with him, his wife and his two small children (about 6 and 8 I think).  He left behind his parents, his in-laws, and numerous brothers and sisters and cousins.  He left behind his culture, the history of the country that he loved, and everything familiar...all in order to continue to practice Catholicism and to find a better way of life for his children.

In certain areas of Russia, it is illegal for people from different areas to be married.  The penalty is death.  Where they are from, if they would have stayed, and would have continued to practice their religion, they would have been killed.  So they left and travelled here to start a new life.  And it was a new beginning for them.  #210 spoke very little English, but needed to work.  He had a well paying job in Russia, but had to settle for manual labor and janitorial work here because of the language barrier.  His wife worked cleaning houses and later as my babysitter, but that will be a different post.  He worked very hard for many years.  He has recently retired, but still struggles to get by.  As hard as he has worked however, he should always know that he made the right decision when he looks at his children.  They picked up the English language very quickly and then taught their parents.  They both graduated with high honors from high school and college.  His son is an engineer in Houston and his daughter worked for many years in California before recently wedding a young man who is in medical residency. 

#210 is dear to my heart and I know Jeff's as well.  He always brings Jeff gifts of his best Vodka and he always calls on holidays to wish my family and I best wishes.  He is always polite and proper and loves my kids also.  He often shows up with small gifts of chocolate for them and loves to listen to their stories. 

It makes me think:
What would I be willing to sacrifice for my religion if I was put to the test?
What would I be willing to do to ensure my kids a better way of life?
How must it feel to move to a foreign land where you cannot understand what people are saying?

Key words for this post - courageous, self-sacrificing, hard-working, intelligent, kind

#209 - ER

#209 was a few years behind me in school.  He was not super popular, but I knew who he was because he was a gymnast.  Those of you who are from my small town know that this is not a huge group in high school...male gymnasts.  He may have been the only member of the team.  Anyway, I remember him being really good and winning a lot of awards for our high school gymnastics team.
Fast forward a few years.  #209 comes to my office to apply for a job as a therapy technician.  He wants to return to college, but is taking some time off to earn some money first.  He was such an asset to me and our practice in the few years he worked for us.  He had a quiet confidence that patients loved.  He knew when to talk and when to listen.  He was respectful and kind...in other words, his parents raised him right!  At the time, we were contracted to do pre-employee physicals for McDermott.  I remember days that we would return from lunch only to find twenty offshore deck-hands who had to pass a physical before the next day so they could be sent to work.  #209 was a valuable employee and helped us with this many times until after hours...all without complaint.

After a few years, he resigned, and decided to return to college to pursue a nursing degree in Mobile.  He kept up with us and came by to say hello whenever he came back to town for a holiday to visit his family.  I think it was about his second year in college when we got the news that he was killed in a car crash.  Driving back from a friend's house after staying up late cramming for a test, he wrapped his car around a pole on the highway.  Unbelievably tragic and sad.

Before we moved into our new building, we spent a lot of time cleaning out our old one.  It was then that we found a pack of pictures that we had taken for some advertising.  #209, helping us with the physicals was in a lot of them.  I debated for several days about what to do with the pics.  I could not make myself throw them away, but I wasn't sure if I should send them to his parents.  In the end, I wrote a short note about how much we enjoyed the time he worked with us and what a great guy I thought he was.  I included the pictures and mailed them to his parents.  Right decision.  His dad stopped by our new office a few weeks later and told me how grateful he was.  He and his wife loved the pictures and the kind words had really made them feel good...that their son had done such a good job.  His mom also wrote me a thank you note expressing how much she appreciated us giving him a job and how much he loved working here.  A win - win for both of us.

Moral of this post - (a couple of them) -
1.  I want to teach my kids self-confidence, and the courage to pursue whatever they want and not to let the fear of what others think or what is not the norm hold them back.  I also want to teach them tolerance for people's differences.
2.  I want to go home and hug and kiss my kids and let them know how much I love them.  Tonight we are heading out to eat and I will be sure to make them turn off their electronics and talk to them.
3.  I am glad that I took the time to write the note and send the pictures.  All it took from me was time and a stamp and it's effect was well worth the effort.

BE THANKFUL!!!!!

#208 - BM

This is another patient post.  I know that some of you may be tired of hearing about my patients, but let me explain.  In my 18 years of practicing, I have seen lots and lots of patients.  And...when you are in therapy, you usually see your therapist 2-3 time a week.  And...when you are doing your exercises, you usually need a distraction from the pain.   So...in a nutshell, what I am trying to say is, we talk a lot to our patients.  I have heard lots of stories, lots of problems, and lots of viewpoints, and like all good therapists know, sometimes the physical healing is very closely linked to the emotional healing. 
I have found that a dose of  TLC always helps speed along improvement.  Therefore to make a long story short...I listen a lot.  There are lots of patients that I have forgotten, but there are a few that have touched my heart and taught me something valuable and those are the ones that I have chosen to share.  Not really for who they are, but for what they represent to me and the lessons that I have learned from them.

Take #208, I first saw her when she was in 3rd or 4th grade.  Youngest of three children...the only girl...baby of the family.  Her family had moved here from Denmark with the oilfield and the kids were adapting well.  Normal kid, kinda tall for her age, nothing else really significant.  The only problem was...she had all kinds of pain.  The first time I saw her it was for knee pain.  No significant symptoms...nothing stood out.  MD sent her here and we treated her for her pain, gave her some exercises for strengthening for her legs, and a large dose of attention and TLC.  Off she went...  A few years later, she came back.  This time with shoulder pain.  Same minimal symptoms and same vague complaints.  Again, we rehabbed her and after a few months, off she went.  The next year, back pain.  Same thing.  A few years later, shoulder pain again.  A sprained ankle...a twisted knee...a broken wrist.  Nothing really major and it all seemed to resolve within a few months of PT.

During all of this therapy, we got to know her family as well.  Her oldest brother brought her to a lot of appointments and eventually interned as a PT student at our clinic and just graduated with a doctorate in PT.  I see her mom and dad out and about from time to time and they are always so thankful for all we have done.  Anyway...I always was a little unsure about her complaints.  I did not want to call her a liar, but maybe a little of a drama-queen,  maybe a little attention seeking?????  Maybe????  But all in all, very sweet and kind and I really watched her grow up over the years.

Fast forward to last year.  She was a senior and set to graduate from high school.  I saw her in the stands at a football game in the Fall and she gave me a big smile and a wave as she cheered her team on.  Then in the Spring, I heard she was sick.  Then I heard she was really sick.  Then really, really sick.  I attended her school's graduation and I saw her name on the list even though I knew she did not attend school most of the Spring of her senior year due to illness.  I saw her walk across the stage and I figured she had recovered and was back to normal.  Same ol, same ol, right ?  Wrong.  About a month after graduation, I ran into her at the grocery store.  She was bald.  I gasped before I could cover my reaction and said, "What did you do to your hair?"  I am ashamed to admit my first thought was that she was attention seeking again.
"I have cancer." she replied.  She then proceeded to tell me the nightmare she had been living through.  She had been through hell and back and was waiting on blood tests to tell if she was in remission or not.  All before the age of 18.

I know she is one of many children who fight the cancer fight.  They are all so brave.  Such courage at such a young age.

I started this post by telling you that the patients who have touched my heart are the ones who have taught me a lesson.  The lesson #208 taught me is to keep an open mind.  Don't discredit people and assume they are putting on, no matter their age.  It also taught me to keep an open line of communication with my children and teach them to be honest about problems that they are having.  Not to dismiss their reports of pain (unless it is Zachary and it is only when we are doing homework :)  Love you Z), and to be aware of problems that don't go away and don't necessarily make sense.  It taught me to not self diagnose, but to take them to doctors who are trained to diagnose.  Contrary to what many people believe, you are not a doctor because of something you read on the Internet.

So anyway, that is #208, one of my patients close to my heart.  I pray for her and her family that she will continue to have the strength to fight.

#207 - SEM

Have you ever seen the movie, The Sound of Music?  Do you remember the singing nanny?  Was she a nun?  Now that I am thinking about it, I am remembering that she was definitely NOT a nun, because she hooked up with the Von Trapp kids' father at the end right?  OK, let me back up and start over. 

When I was in elementary school, I had two nuns that worked at my school.  One was post # 171, and the other one was this post.  I'm really not sure if she is still living or not, but I'm going to take a leap and think that she will not read my blog so I will name her.  Her name was Sister Ethel Marie.  (I don't think that was her real name, so I'm probably HIPPA safe...  Do nuns fall under HIPPA guidelines??? - Wow- I am really distracted).

OK, so anyway, we have Sister Ethel Marie.  I don't remember if she actually taught a class, but the reason that I remember her is that she played the guitar with me at mass.  There were also a few other members of the professional working community that were fellow strummers with Sister Ethel and me (right Scott and Bubby?) (oops HIPPA again).  Anyway, all you Bluejay alumni know exactly what I am speaking of. 

I really have no better way to bring Sister Ethel back to your minds than to leave you with these words:

Bloom, Bloom, Bloom where you are planted

Bloom, Bloom, Bloom where you are planted

Those are all the words that I remember, I do remember that you play it with a Capo on......
Wow...the things that stick in my mind, but I can't remember names...Sigh...

#206 - Drug Dealer - NOT!

OK, this post is one where I have to make fun of myself...BUT, in my defense, when I was younger, I stayed with my paternal grandmother a lot who taught me to always be fearful of strangers.  My mom too for that matter.  I've always been friendly, but never really one to talk to strangers.   Strangers = child molesters 99% of the time, right Ma Ellen?   My friends who travel with me know that I do not like to "make new friends" in the elevator, or at the soccer field, and definitely not on the airplane (hmmm, wonder if I take after my mom or my dad????).  Anyway, I partially don't like to strike up conversations with strangers because I am very comfortable with quiet and secondly, I had a healthy fear of strangers drummed into me at a young age.  Anyway...the story goes...

I was twenty years old and living in Houston with Uncle Pete who my faithful followers will remember as
# 59 on my blog (click here for review).  Anyway, the apartment was by the Galleria off of Westheimer and the hospital I was affiliating at was in the medical center about 20-30 minutes away.  Let me stop and reminisce about working four ten hour days a week.  Monday - Thursday from 7-6 with an hour off for lunch.  Missed Houston traffic for the most part both ways ( :) dad), and every Friday off.  What a schedule...Anyway, I digress...  My work schedule meant that every morning I left the apartment about 6 am to allow for parking and the short bus ride to the complex and for me to get lost. (yes, every morning).  Anyway, I noticed from the very first day, that Houston in no way resembled my small home town.  I did not take the interstate because my dad told me there was too much traffic ( :) dad), so I drove down a street that had a million stop lights.  At every stop light, there was a small median in the middle of the six lanes of traffic, and on each median stood drug dealers.  I could not get over how many of them there were.  Out early every morning after a long night of selling drugs.  The police just allowed it also.  I remember one time, there was a police car right in front of me and he had to have seen the drug dealers...but did nothing.  It was at this point, that I was sorta thinking that maybe they were not drug dealers.  By the second week of my early morning commute, I was sure that they were homeless people...and that the reason that they were going up to each car as they waited for the light to change to green, was not to sell them drugs...but to beg for money.  As I mentioned before, with all the stranger-rules running through my head, I NEVER looked at these men directly.  I never wanted to be a witness to the money/drugs changing hands, and I did not want the homeless person to pull me out of my car when I rolled down my window to give them some change.  So I followed the rules of safety...  Doors locked.  Eyes straight ahead.  Make no motion to look towards them and never completely come to a stop if I was the only one at the light.

And so this went on for several weeks.  They approached the cars, I ignored them and made it safely to work each morning.  Whew!  Then, as I got more comfortable with the big city, I started to sneak sideways peeks at these gentlemen.  And guess what...  This is the part where I will comp to my small town stupidity because they were not selling drugs, and they were not even homeless.  Newspapers...  They were selling newspapers.  Every morning, a new addition.  Imagine that.  I think I'll just leave you with this.

#205 - Nan

I know Nan had a real name, but I never knew it.  She was just Nan.  She was the aunt or great aunt or nanny or something, of one of my best friends.  She was a pistol.  Sharp as a tack.  Not afraid to speak her mind.  Always made me laugh, but probably because I wasn't related to her.  She was old when I met her and only got older.  You would never know it by her activity level.  As she loved to tell people. she was born in 1901.   Just to get a frame of reference, let me take you back to 1901...  (cue dream music...)

It was the first year of the 20th century.

In the first great Texas gusher, oil is discovered at Spindletop in Beaumont, Texas.

Baseball's American League declares itself a Major League.

United States President William McKinley begins his 2nd term. Theodore Roosevelt is sworn in as Vice President of the United States.

New York State becomes the first to require automobile license plates ($1 fee).

William S. Harley draws up plans for his first prototype motorcycle.

Female Army Nurse Corps established as a permanent organization

Cadillac Motor Company is founded.


Hubert Cecil Booth patents vacuum cleaner
 
Winston Churchill makes his maiden speech in the British House of Commons.



Clark Gable, Gary Cooper, and Louis Armstrong were born.  And so was Nan.

I can only imagine the things that she experienced in her lifetime.  All I know is what she told me and I'm not sure she didn't make some of it up.  At her age, I figure she gets some creative license.  A hot-air balloon ride at 80 years old is one of the ones I do remember.  One funny story about Nan is the time we travelled from LA to CA for a wedding.  She came along.  The travel involved two planes, two layovers, and two stressed out Gueniots.  Also along for the ride was someone you may remember from here.  She was Nan's sister in law if I have it correctly, but they argued like sisters.  Now # 41 didn't like to exert herself too much and definitely like being taken care of.  Her dutiful daughter and son and law arranged for a wheelchair to meet us at every airport and arranged for motorized transportation to and from each gate.  Well, the way I remember it... Nan was having none of that.  She huffed and proclaimed loudly, "I walk a mile every morning!" as she looked at the wheelchair in disdain (note - she was in her early 90's at the time) and proceeded to take off through the airport.  On her own.  No idea where she was going.  Being chased  followed by her exasperated followers.  I just remember laughing, but again...not related.

Nan passed away several years ago after having led a long, healthy, and very interesting life.  We should all wish for as much.  A wonderful lady and always kind to me.  Time may have faded my memories, but I remember her being a hoot!  I'm sure wherever she is now, she is blazing trails...one mile at a time.

#204 - BH

I wonder if #204 ever tried to list all the things that he knows how to do. If he ever lost his job, he could go for something like this...

(Not really him...)

I've posted before about guys who are jack of all trades.  Here comes another one.  Not only does he know how to do a lot of stuff...if he doesn't know how to do it, he knows someone who knows how to do it.  He has worked for Jeff for awhile, and I consider him a friend and a really good guy to know.  If I ever need anything, I can pick up the phone and I know that he would help me out.  In today's world, to me, this is really a comfort.  I've watched his two daughters grow up and they are the apple of his eye.  One has helped me out as a babysitter several times until I realized how close in age she is to Blake and those sorts of things started to matter...  I met his dad several years ago when he came to our house to help with some odds and ends...just things that needed fixin and we never seemed to be able to get to them.  It was then that I realized where #204 got all his know-how.
 
One funny story is the time that I asked #204 if he had any rope I could use for a fun day at my kids school.  I wanted something to suspend an old tire from the baseball backdrop so that we could "create" a football toss for the kids to try to win prizes.  If any of you have ever been in my backyard, you will see the creation #204 came up with.  Stainless steel, tire suspended with holes drilled at three different heights to accommodate different age kids, and last but not least - it breaks down easily into pieces so that I can transport it!  Strong Work #204 and thanks for all of you help and your friendship over the years!  P.S.  Please feel free to teach my boys any of the stuff you know at any time!

#203 - SW

It's funny that this friend came up today, because she has been on my mind.  She has been a friend since Kindergarten, but I have to admit, in the last twenty years, our paths have not crossed too many times.  This does not mean that I don't think about her however. 

From K - 7th grade, I went to a really small school and #203, another girl, and I were really close friends.  We would trade off riding the bus home on Fridays to each other's houses for sleep-overs.  I remember lots of fun times sleeping over at her house.  She had two older brothers that L-O-V-E-D MTV.  I did not get to watch this at my house, but I remember they watched for hours.  I remember sneaking a peek at all the videos and thinking how bad they were.  Now, you have much worse on channel 2 in the middle of the day.  I also remember her grandmother teaching me how to play Liverpool and Canasta.  I also remember playing baseball with a large balloon and a giggle stick and running to hide in her room when I hit the balloon up and it got stuck on a shelf in her living room.   I remember one time we got in a fight.  I don't really remember over what, but it had to do with a volleyball game, recess, and I pulled and broke a chain around her neck.  Is it too late to say sorry????   I also remember that her dad was a avid Saints' fan.  I remember going to mass at the chapel in the hospital at 7 am on Sunday mornings so we could make a noon kick off at the Dome.  I also remember going to weekly masses held at her house with special prayer sessions for her dad who died of cancer when we were in elementary school.

Once we got to high school, we sort of went our separate ways.  The third friend in our trio went to the local public school, so we only saw her occasionally.  I was involved with student council and sports, and #203 was active on the swim team.  We stayed friends, but started to drift apart.  We got closer again when we both attended the same college and lived in the same dorm.  I went into the health field and she majored in elementary education.  I know she is a great school teacher because that was always one of her favorite things to play when I went to her house.  I ended up moving on to finish school, and she started teaching and had a baby girl.  Her baby girl is now is high school. 

It is hard to believe so much time has passed.  We usually catch up when she comes in for holidays, but only on the surface.  I recently heard that her mom is sick which is why I have been thinking about her.  My prayers are with her and her mom and her family.

Click here to offer your prayers for #203's mom and all those affected with cancer.

#202 - KM

As I have told my kids many times, "Not everyone can be good at everything.  God made people talented in different areas...that's what makes the world go round."  I totally believe this.  #202's gifts are all of the creative side.  I have to say with all due respect...that she is not the easiest person to work with.  She is very sweet, soft-spoken, and kind but she is not very reliable, she is very hard to pin down, and she is not fast.  But...she is a wonderful artist and her talents are not under appreciated by me.  They say that pictures speak louder than words, so let me show you instead of tell you.

I have her a picture in a magazine and told her I wanted my ceilings in my foyer to look like the picture.  After about a week on a ladder...

Then I wanted wooden garage doors.  My builder told me "NO"  wood rots in South LA.  He showed her the picture of the garage doors that I wanted and once we got the perfect day with the perfect weather...we got this...

100% satisfied...What a gift!  Thanks #202.

#201- ER

When I first started doing home health PT, I really wasn't sure exactly what was expected of me.  They did not have a class called home health 101 in PT school, and as you can imagine, most people's homes do not resemble a gym.  Anyway, I remember one of my first patients that I went to see.  It was in a little trailer down in Montegut.  An old cajun lady.  I called to say I was coming.  I drive to Montegut...turn around when I get almost to Dulac, and then go the correct way to Montegut.  I arrive about 45 minutes late only to find that the OT who is also seeing the patient has arrived.  I was a little uptight because I was so late, but turns out that I shouldn't have worried.

I walk in and this guy is siting on the bed with this elderly lady.  I had no idea who he was.  He was talking French to her with a lot of hand petting and "Aww, sha" mixed in.  He was #201.  Friendly, kind, nice, OT-extraordinaire, and total BS-er.  I didn't catch on to that last part until several visits later.  He's the guy who always says the right thing at the right time...true or not.  I never saw someone make more old ladies blush.  He could turn on the charm in an instant and use it for the power of OT goals.  One of the jobs of OT's is to help patients learn or re-learn how to dress, bathe, and cook following a medical incident.  Not only was he able to do this, but he usually arranged it so he could stay for supper.

Not everyone loves #201, but he has always been nice to me.  He helped me more than once in that first year of doing home visits and for that I thank him.  He has since moved on and I really have lost touch with him.  Some people saw through his baloney immediately and wanted no part of him, but I will give him credit for using his "way with words' to get a lot of people to try and succeed at doing things that they did not want to do.

In his honor...here is a joke I found...(If my kids are reading this...close browser now!)



A turkey was chatting with a bull.

'I would love to be able to get to the top of that tree' sighed the turkey, 'but I haven't got the energy.'
'Well, why don't you nibble on some of my droppings?' replied the bull. They're packed with nutrients.'
The turkey pecked at a lump of dung, and found it actually gave him enough strength to reach the lowest branch of the tree.
The next day, after eating some more dung, he reached the second branch.
Finally after a fourth night, the turkey was proudly perched at the top of the tree.
He was promptly spotted by a farmer, who shot him out of the tree.

Moral of the story:
Bull Shit might get you to the top, but it won't keep you there.

If that doesn't say it all about #201, I don't know what does!

#200 - TB

I first met #200 when she was a senior in high school.  She took part in a program where she went to school in the morning and worked in the afternoon.  I could tell right away that she was very responsible even at her young age.  After she graduated, she was offered and accepted a job at our office.  It was not long before she mastered the "busy work" and moved on to more responsibility.  She was just that kind of employee.  She kept moving up and up and surpassed the veteran employees which made me happy, but her co-workers not very happy.  And so it went...  After a few years, she met a guy, got married, supported him while he tried to figure out if he wanted to be a grown up or not...and then came to tell me she was resigning because they were going to move out of town.  Her husband and a "job opportunity" that required the move.  I was upset to lose her, but wished her the best.

Fast forward about five years.  She called me to say that the "job" did not work out for her husband and she needed to return to work because he was unemployed.  She was now trying to support not only him but her young daughter.  We did not have any place for her at the time, but I recommended her to my kids school who was in desperate need of a school secretary.  It turned out to be a perfect fit.  She loved the hours because she was able to get her daughter out of daycare at an earlier time.  I loved her in this position because, true to form, she whipped the school front office into shape in no time.  She computerized files, set up emails, trained staff, etc. etc. etc.  All with a smile even though her marriage was slowly crumbling. 

Fast forward a few more years.  She called to talk to me again.  She had made the decision to leave an abusive marriage and go back to school.  She was looking for something part time so that she could pursue a nursing degree.  I helped as I could, but in the end, she had to make (again) a lot of sacrifices to get it done.  But she did...

I still keep up with her by email several times a year.  She finished her RN degree, she met and married a wonderful grown up man with a job, and her daughter is the light of her life.  I am so happy that she is so happy.

At any part in her life, she could have lay down and cried.  She could have given up and stopped trying.  Instead she put her head down and did what needed to be done.  I admire her and all those like her who understand that there is nothing wrong with hard work and that it always pays off.

To a great girl, and wonderful mother, and a soul-sister!!!!!!!  For those of you who need a little help, click here.  http://www.wikihow.com/Be-a-Hard-Worker

#199 - NN

A teacher affects eternity; he can never tell where his influence stops. ~Henry Adams



You know how you just remember those teachers in high school who stood out.  #199 was one of them.  I don't think she even really taught me, but she was our student council moderator.  I just remember her being around for a lot of extra after school activities that we sponsored.  She went to bat with the administration with ideas we came up with.  I remember her being an advisor on different questions once I got to the senior high side.  Her "office" was in a little room (think - janitor's closet) in a side hallway. 

I know she probably "had" to moderate something and student council was what she drew, but I know that I turned to her for help more than once and I am thankful for all that she did helping me navigate the trenches of high school.  I think teaching is often a thankless job, so let this post stand as a thank you for all the teachers out there who are not feeling the love today!

#198 - MA

Research has shown that between birth and age five, the human brain is like a sponge.  Synapses are created and connected more than any other time in your life.  Kids go from being totally dependent to being little adults in five short years.  They learn how to sit up, crawl, walk, talk, reason, and think...in no particular order.  Some learn faster than others, but it is a common fact that the more they are exposed to at a young age, the more they are able to learn.

#198 get this theory.  She is not a scientist...she is not a doctor...she is an observer and a teacher.  She learned how children learn best by watching them and adapting her teaching strategies as she went along.  She runs a very successful program in my town that incorporates early learning with music, movements, and play.  She is kind and caring, but knows the value of discipline.  All of the kids love her and guess what...behave for her and strive to please her.  What a trick that it...

All three of my boys attended her school.  They started as soon as they could pull to standing in the Mom and Tot class, then progressed to Red Guys (3year olds), Green Guys (or as it has been called in our house...gringos), and then finally to the seniors...the Blue Guys.  As Blue Guys, these kids are four year olds that are starting to read, but even more importantly understand self control and boundaries.  As you can tell, I am a huge fan.

When my boys were little and were attending her program, #198 and I had many long talks about early intervention for children with learning disabilities and physical disabilities.  We both agree that the earlier you can identify a problem and start to address it, the better for the child.  We do not live in an age where parents should be in denial, because to not provide your child with what they need because of "how it looks" is doing a disservice to them.  She and I teamed up with the help of several other therapist/volunteers to start a program for handicapped children.  For a very minimal fee (I think it was like $10/month), #198 opened up her gym facility to about 10 of my handicapped patients.  To see the joy of these kids faces when they were able to crawl through tunnels and bounce assisted on the trampoline is a time that I will never forget. 

I want to take this opportunity to thank #198 for all of her hard work and dedication to the little ones of our community.  Her caring and love for what she does is evident by the pride in her voice when she asks about her "graduates."  I know that my boys loved her (Seth still invites her to all of his ball games) and I certainly appreciate all of the early learning that she fostered in my children.  I also learned from her and implemented many of her strategies that I still use today.  Thanks Ms. Mary!!!!

http://www.gdcyounglearners.com/

#197 - DPS

There once was a boy that lived down the street from me.  I didn't know him well because we went to different elementary schools, but I remember one day, he came down the street to play Atari with my brother.  I have no idea why I remember this, but I remember my mom telling me to listen for the doorbell because she was expecting a package from the ups man.  I remember asking, "Ups man???? Who's that."  "The United Parcel Service..." the boy told me.  (He did not add, stupid, at the end of his explanation because of his good upbringing)

Fast forward 5 years or so and the boy and I are now in the same class in high school.  He is definitely the "cool boy" that everyone wants to hang around.  Always nice...always fun...always polite.  He becomes the football hero and dates a lot of lucky girls before the cheerleader snags him.  What I remember most about him from high school however is not his heroics on the football field, but the disappointment and dejection that he felt when he blew out his knee our senior year.  I still remember him slowly limping across the field for the homecoming game.  Not dressed out, visibly upset, but still there to support his teammates.  Now that I have boys that are so competitive in sports, I can imagine how he (and his mom) felt at that moment.  But...thank goodness we don't all peak in high school because...

Fast forward ten more years, and I am sitting in the waiting area of the surgery center and #197 is explaining to me how he just removed my husband's gall bladder.  Great bedside manner, great surgical skills, still polite and still a great guy.

Now I don't mean to make him sound like a saint, because all of you who have figured out who #197 is, would know I was lying.  I'm just saying that I am happy for him.  He has been a friend for a long time.  He and his wife (the former cheerleader) are raising some cheerleaders of their own, he has a successful career, and through it all...he is still polite.  His mom and dad raised him right, and I know they are proud of him.  Come to think of it, I'm going to make sure my boys know what UPS stands for right now.

#196 - BM

This is a story about a patient.  Before she was my patient, she was a much-loved elementary school teacher at a popular local school.  One day, she had a brain aneurysm while at school and fell off of the auditorium stage.  They rushed her to the hospital and she was in ICU for a few days, and then was transferred to the floor.  That's where I met her.  I was working the weekend as a fill in PT.  My goal as a fill in PT was to see the patients on the list they gave me and try to get out of there before noon.  I have never liked working on the weekends, and basically was only doing it as a favor for my partner.  Anyway, I walk into #196's room.  My orders are to get her up out of bed and get her to walk.  She had not gotten up since she fell off of the stage, and it was time.  I go in...introduce myself to her and her husband...explain my plan.  She kept her eyes closed the entire time I was talking to her, but her husband nudged her and said, "Come on honey, it's time to get you better."  She partially woke up, and started to make some moves towards sitting bedside.  I was helping and encouraging her all along the way.  "That's good!"  "Don't move too fast!"  "Hold on a second and let me untangle your line."  "Stop for a minute and let the dizziness pass."  Nothing too complicated...not really talking too much, just keeping my eyes on the clock and trying to finish.  So now, we are up and walking towards the door at about .5 mph.  A shuffle really.  She is holding my hand and I am holding her catheter and pushing her IV pole.  I continue to monitor her status by asking, "Are you dizzy?  Feeling weak?  You're doing great...keep going."  We get about halfway to the door and she opens her eyes all the way and looks at me and says, "Will you shut the f@!# up!!!  I know what doing good looks like and I look like s#@!  I wish you would quit saying all these stupid, asinine statements to me because it just shows how stupid you are!"

WOW!

Up until then, I was kinda thinking she reminded me of MaMa Ellen.  I don't know whose jaw hit the floor first, mine or her husbands.  Anyway...I shut up (you usually don't have to tell me twice) and we got back to the bed.  I told her husband see ya...and I was out of there.  Kinda offended, but really...I got it.  Anyway, that's where I thought the story would end.  About two weeks later I got a call from the home health agency that I was working for and they wanted to know if I could take a referral.  A really nice school teacher who had suffered a brain aneurysm.  When they told me the name...I said, "no way, no how."  They could not understand...she was so nice...she lived in a nice neighborhood...very clean with a good family.  Anyhow, they talked me into it and a few days later, I made my way to her home.  I really was nervous but I had a game plan in place.  Short commands...to the point...in and out.  Do what I needed to do and get out.  No small talk.  No encouragement.  I can honestly remember my palms sweating (lol now because I had probably only been practicing about a year at the time.  18 years later, the ornery patients are my favorites!) 

Anyway, I go in and guess what I found.  A lovely, kind, serene elementary school teacher would asked me a thousand questions...not only about her illness and rehab, but about my family, my kids, and where I grew up.  I was taken aback.  As I continued to see her week after week, I really could not believe that this was the same woman I had seen in the hospital.  She was so nice.  She baked cookies for me and always was so glad to see me. 

After a few weeks, I asked her if she remembered me from the hospital.  She looked at me quizzically and said that she did not.  I slowly told her the story about what had happened.  She was mortified.  She could not believe that she had spoken to me that way.  With her face red, she told me that she did not even know that she knew those words... She apologized and apologized.  I, of course, told her not to worry about it.  We were good.

She recovered and although she never went back to teaching full time, she substituted.  I still she her and her husband from time to time around town and they always praise and thank me for my part in her rehab.

Moral of the story:  Being sick is not fun and people should not be held accountable for their actions while under the weather! 

#195 - PT school tudor

"Act as if what you do makes a difference. It does."

-- William James (1842-1910), psychologist and author

 
 
I know some of my posts seem really random and sometimes people ask me, "How did that person make your blog?  Were they really that influential in your life?"  I have two answers to that question.  #1.  Ya'll would get really bored if I just talked about my family and the friends that I love...blogging needs some excitement!  #2.  Some of them, even though random, really did make changes in my life that I know made me the person I am today.

# 195 is both random and influential.  Let me explain...

I was a good student (read "nerd" again) always.   I really love to study and perform on tests.  I can honestly say that I never went into a test unprepared.  I may have may a bad grade or two, but they were far in between.  I did very well in high school and very well in college.  Then came PT school.  Wow!  Talk about a different ballgame.  It was like I was in a foreign country and everyone was speaking a foreign language.  Many of my classmates had more college prep courses under their belt, but I had the bare minimum.  I had not had physiology, anatomy, kinesiology and in fact, I did not even know exactly what those subjects were.  The first summer of PT school we took gross anatomy and physiology.  I was totally a fish out of water.  Trying to learn names, places, and nerve innervation of muscles and then find and identify them on my cadaver.  Trying to learn about all the different systems of the body and how and why they work.  Lots of memorization which I am good at...but only if I understand first.  I struggled from day 1.  I tried to apply all my study strageies that had worked for me in the past, but no luck.  I was floundering.  I remember trying to read from the book...trying to go to the library...trying to talk to the teacher.  No luck.  Then someone told me about a service from the med school where medical students did tutoring in these core subjects.  It was just what the doctor (no pun intended) ordered.  Some one on one time with someone who understood the foreign language of medicine.  I was able to ask questions, process the answers, and understand.

Now I know this does not seem like a big deal to most people, but for me it was.  I had never needed help before and as a general rule, I really don't like to ask for help.  I can honestly say however, that #195 saved me.  I don't remember his name, but I will always be thankful for the time he took to teach me.

Moral of the story #1:  Ask for help!  It may be the best decision you will ever make. 

Moral of the story #2:  Help others if you can.  You never know when you can make a difference in someones life.

#194 - BH

My faithful readers know that I have a lot of boy cousins.  #194 is another one.  Whenever I see him now, I am always taken aback because he is so big and grown up.  When he was a little boy, he had hair that was so blond it was almost white.  It was also straight as a pin and would swing back and forth from his "bowl" cut.  I am a good bit older than him, so I was away at school when he did a lot of his growing up.  He is now a man.  He is a huge workout guy and his muscles have muscles.  He has worked in the oilfield industry, the restaurant industry, and even in the fitness industry.  He is still looking to find the perfect fit for him, and I know that one day he will.

These days we usually only see each other on holidays when our families get together.  In our family however, the bonds that we made as children growing up, will last a lifetime.  As I look at my own kids playing so hard with their cousins, it is hard to imagine that one day they will not be as close.  Paths change, people change, and our different roads we take lead us in different places.  I know though that when they are adults, they will always cherish the memories of growing up being close to family, just as I do.

#193 - DR

I know a girl with blondish-brownish really really curly hair.  I knew her as a very precious toddler.  I knew her as an awesome teen babysitter.  I knew her as a tennis playing/teaching college student.  Now, I know her as a contributing adult member of the workforce.  She is always smiling even though she doesn't say too much usually.  She loves her family and is not a brat even though she is the only girl and the baby.  She goes to church every Sunday and works in the children's church ministry. 
My kids loved when she came to babysit because she would play ball with them and take them to McDonalds.  I love her because she is sweet and kind and until my sister in law had kids, would babysit for me all the time. (Just kidding J).  I don't have girls, but I hope that when my boys are her age, they turn out as good.  When she played college tennis, she could beat my butt with one hand tied behind her back.  Now that her racket is in the back of the closet with a layer of dust, I'm thinking that it might be time for us to hit the courts again.  I'm likin my chances!

#192 - Lady on the Plane

OK...it is late...I am tired...this is the perfect post for me to do today.  Short but not sweet.  It is a pet peeve post.  I know most of my posts are kind and loving...reflections of my wonderful 39 years of life and the people who have drifted in and out of it.  This one is not!

Several years ago, a co-worker and I were flying to a continuing ed course somewhere in the eastern U.S. (starts with a P...right Dana?)  Anyway, we board the plane and settle in for our relaxing flight.  I was getting myself settled when all of a sudden, this horrible odor hits my nostrils.  My eyebrows raised, my nose squenched, the sides of my mouth drew down in a frown.  "What is THAT SMELL?????"  Without looking up or missing a beat, my co-worker says, "ASS," 

All of you who work with the public know exactly the smell.  For those of you who don't, feel fortunate.  For those of you with allergies and don't smell, also feel fortunate.  There is nothing worse than having to remember you manners and your professional poise with someone who doesn't bathe.  I just don't get it!!!!  Don't they smell themselves?  Last time I checked, water was free and a bar of soap goes a long way.

I could go on, but I won't.  Just some words for my #192 who I hope I never smell again.
GET SOME DEODORANT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

In honor of my boys, here is some stinky humor:

Yo Mamma is so smelly,

the only dis I want to give her is a disinfectant.

Yo Mamma is so smelly,

she made Right Guard go left, Speed Stick slow down, and Ban come off strike.

Alright everyone enough...I need to go take my bath!

#191 - SC

Seldom do you get to pick your childhood friends.  They are either the kids of the adults that your parents hang out with, or they are neighbors.  I hate to sound like an old fogey, but back when was growing up, kids played outside a lot more.  They did not stay inside in front of the TV or computer.  At least at my house we didn't.  #191 is a girl who lived down the street from me.  She was a year older than me, but that was about all we had in common.  I never really understood where she was coming from.  I wanted to be outside playing with the boys.  Baseball, kick the can, hide and go seek, pass routes...and on and on.  If that was out, I wanted to ride my bike or play hopscotch.  If it was raining, I wanted to sit inside and read.  Never, ever did I want to play dolls, fix my hair in different styles, or play with make-up.  #191 did.  Sometimes I obliged her, but only if the boys were unavailable.  As we grew up, we went our separate ways.  We went to the same high school... she was the captain of the dance-team and I went the ball route.  I now see her from time to time around town, usually at a kids birthday party.  She has twins which keep her very busy. 

Once again, it's funny to me, the people who pass in and out of our lives.  They all leave a little something that adjusts the course we are on.  With that in mind, I'll thank #191 for enlightening me what to do with nail polish, rouge, and eye shadow.  As I think back to the girl I was then, I was definitely more of a tomboy and she was more of a girly girl.  I will defend myself with this poem I found about tomboys.

Tomboys Were Right

copyright 2005

by Mariah Burton Nelson

If you were a tomboy, you knew long ago

What experts now preach all the time:

Exercise heals you. It strengthens your heart.

It also feels simply sublime.

If you were a tomboy, you rode fast and far

On your bicycle, named like a horse

You competed in neighborhood races with friends

Winning – and losing, of course.

You knew that your body was yours to enjoy.

You swam in the sea like a fish.

Disciplined, you would shoot baskets all day

'Til finally hearing that "swish."

If you were a tomboy you liked to climb trees.

Reaching for each branch above

The bark felt so rough and so right that it

Helped you discover what you were made of.

If you were a tomboy, then you're still an athlete

You've been walking with pride all along.

Or have you forgotten? Then let me remind you:

You've always been brave, free, and strong.

Invited or not, you showed up for Little League.

You cried out: "This gym is too small!"

You spoke up for fairness. You protested pinnies.

You kept your eye on the ball.

By refusing to stay on the sidelines

By saying, "I won't simply cheer,"

You redefined "woman" and "athlete."

You served as a sport pioneer.

Pioneers don’t earn much money.

Pioneers don’t get much fame.

But they dare to go first. That changes

Everything, transforming the entire game.

Nowadays we are all athletes.

Even old women can sail

Nowadays we would just laugh if they told us

It's more ladylike to be frail.

Your daughter: She won't be a tomboy.

They no longer call girls that name.

If she's adventurous, agile and quick

They'll more likely say, "She's got game."

But you were a tomboy. You learned how to lead

And you led like a true, brilliant star.

Going first matters. So please let me

THANK YOU for daring to be who you are.

Now that sounds more like me!  :)

#190 - CL

There are a lot of things that I can do well.  This makes it much easier for me to own up to the things that I am really, really bad at.  One of these things is matching and decorating aka making things look right.  I got a full dose of this while my house was being built.  Example, "Ms. T.  Which way do you want the bricks in the kitchen to go?"  "Ms. T, what kind and color hinges do you want?"  "Ms. T., what color walls, what color light switches, what color doorknobs?"  Ahhhh!   It did not take me long to realize that I needed help.  Help, for me, came by the way of #190.  She helped me pick out many, many things in my home and I will always be grateful.  I can look at something and tell you if I like it or don't like it, but I could never reproduce it or pick it out from a list on my own.  It totally is not my thing (and I really don't care).  When I look around my house and see colors that are relaxing, cook, refreshing, clean, and neutral...I know she listened to what Jeff and I envisioned for our home and she got it right.  I have to admit, I had my doubts when she showed me the color palette that she had chosen and it all looked like khaki to me.  I remember her telling me she was going with something really funky in the pool house bathroom.  I was thinking purple...or orange..., and then she proceeded to show me a color swatch that was pale yellow.  Really about two steps from khaki.  Hmmm.. funky???  I'm not sure about this, but I am not to proud to admit it looks great!  Same with when she told me she wanted to paint my oldest's room in stripes.  I was thinking candy canes, but was we ended up with was very tasteful and very elegant.   She also helped me pick out curtains, wall colors, furniture, and some accessories that I just love.  I shudder to think what this would look like if I was left to my own devices.  (Probably a lot like my first house... can anyone rememeber my floral couches and striped chair???? Ouch!)  Of course she was compensated for all of her assistance, but I also owe her a big thank you.  Many of the compliments that I receive on my home are really meant for her and I want to let everyone know.  She and a partner (who has also helped me out) own their own store in town with great merchandise.  I encourage anyone who is looking for new furniture, cool accessories, great gifts, or some advice to pass by and check them out.  They don't appear to have a website, but here are directions.

Thank you #190 for using your talents and your creativity to help make my home aesthetically pleasing, relaxing, calming, and a place that I always look forward to being.