The Light Within Us All

Part of what is unique about me, and somewhat freaky, is my ability to see the light inside people. Some of my friends find it disconcerting and some of them suspect black magic but all of them see it from time to time.

The reason I love what I do is precisely this. There is a light within us all that longs to shine out. It can be buried under layers of life or radiating just under the surface but that light is there. My little mission is to find it in every person I meet. Some are harder than others. The ones that are the most rewarding are the persons who cannot tell you directly; the ones who for whatever reason are impaired this way.

In the hospital, I worked in the ward where housed are those who have nowhere else to go. The old and infirm who can't get into facilities. It is a warehouse for those who are about to die; who inconveniently live on. It is a very depressing place indeed.

Those who inhabit the beds there are mostly not quite aware of what is happening around them. Some of the patients were so infirm they never got out of bed at all. Personal care consisted of repositioning them and changing their *incontinence products* every 6 to 8 hours, and a bath once a week. At every meal all levels of professionals would drop everything and help feed them. Very few of these people could feed themselves. It is very labourious and time-consuming to ensure all patients get fed and volunteer staff come in to assist, thank God.
The University also sends Nursing students in for bits of their practicums which helps alleviate the chronic staffing shorting.

My big aha moment was a lady in the corner bed of a 4 bed room. She had advanced Alzheimers-like dementia and spoke but only in long sentences of nonsense.
"Then I said, I said I said then I said I said said said no go I said I said."
That was her standard type greeting.

I took a special shine to this old lady for some reason. I had lots of other old ladies but she was mine. And I was hers. She had sparkly eyes when she opened them which was not too often. But boy, did she ever love her food. She was always spot on for mealtimes.
I would sit her up and she would open her mouth wide, chewing every single bite.

One day when I came in, I looked in her room and saw her lying towards the door. She was pillowed into position. The night report indicated she had been changed in the early evening.
She caught my eye, which was usual and I noticed a tear. Unfortunatly I had alot of things that took precedence so I did not see her until breakfast time.

The Care Staff had not yet gotten to her. I rolled her onto her back to sit her up and noticed the bed was wet. In fact it was soaking wet. And cold. I understood the tear.

I changed her myself, and the bed, and had a few words with the head Nurse. There is NO WAY that woman had been changed the evening before. She probably had been laying in urine for 24 hours. And worse, some fuck had rolled and pillowed her and made the decision not to bother with a new *incontinence product*. This really burned me up as those adults diapers are designed to hold 8 pees. 6 to 8. Hers was so wet it had chafed her skin.

*grrr*

I understood that tear and I remembered it.
You know, when I would go in after that, she would say:
"Me Me Me Me please Me Me me." and smile.

I miss her.
She taught me a profound lesson.

Anguish & Redemption

The smallest of things can change the course of a lifetime. Things you take for granted can turn around and bite you leaving scars. Things you never think about can wind up propelling you into territory uncharted.

Here are a few things that changed me forever, for good or bad.

Anguish: That fucking baseball bat Sherry Kitto threw.
Redemption: The car accident that revealed the damage done.

Anguish: Dr. Ritfuckingtenberg
Redemption: Delrene Stade

Anguish: Death of a Parent
Redemption: Discovery of a new and better skillset.

Anguish: A Nursing teacher who absolutely hated me.
Redemption: Completing the Diploma and receiving the award for Outstanding Student for scholarship.

Anguish: Discovering my true self.
Redemption: Discovering my true self.

--------- +

Another Sad Farewell

07:30 this morning I am going into the building where so many of my clients live.
I see the manager and she stops me to ask me if I knew Mrs. M.

Well, of course I do, and her use of the past tense does not escape me so I realise what she is about to say. She is gone. Off to join her handsome husband on motorcycles in heaven.

Is it bad of me to miss her so? She is the one who I saw out 3 weeks ago all dolled up. She was on her scooter and looked like a million. "Got a date?" I asked.

"Yes, with my lawyer." She replied.

When I frowned she told me it was best to be prepared. When I frowned more deeply she looked me in the eye and told me how much she enjoyed me and how much it meant to her to have me in her life. It was a goodbye.

She went into hospital for a minor surgery and came out with a respiratory infection.
She was home only 3 days then she had to return. I saw her one more time and she wished me luck with my own situation. Her cough troubled me. I knew when I left I would not see her again. I hate knowing these things.

She passed away yesterday in hospital. Damn it.
My grandmother died a similar way.
It made me just as mad then. If you are in your 90s and you have a cancer leave it alone.
Don't open yourself up and go through all that bother. Live and die with your cancer.

Mrs. M died of pneumonia. Post-operative respiratory infection.
Damn it.

Sad farewell. Very sad.

One Sleep to Go

Is it twilight time already?

One more day. One more sleep. One more.

tic tic tic tic


------------*

I was delighted to be in the company of my brother today.
I love him so much.
He is always striving to be better and he is better all the time.

MY very Favourite Song

Yes yes its still all about me. ME ME ME ME!

My very favourite song is still the one I was banned from flying kites to at WSIKF
I can't find an audio link thats legal so you'll have to spend 20 cents and download it.
oh yeah.

Yello > One Second (1987) > Si Senor The Hairy Grill

Don't give up all your loving
I like your loving
Tears in my eyes
Touch me, oh oh it's burning
Why might you leave me
Please stay with me

Squeeze me, oh oh you squeeze me

Squeeze me, oh oh you squeeze me

Don't want anyone to see you
Oh oh I'm diving into your eyes
Crying, thought the I'm dying
And then I'm smiling into your face

Cool Cool things

This just in from EvilTwin ---- The Lake

a friend of friend made it

----*

Look at my new widget over on the right side there.
Is that not coolness itself?
It is funny how it decides what keywords to latch onto.
Afterwhich?
heheh

Trepidations and Premonitions

Two of my very favourite people are in hospital.
I have a bad feeling about this.

Is it bad to not want to let people go?
One of them is 90 the other 98.

It is the very genteel woman and the Wordsmith.
I will miss them. I know we are losing them. It is just always too soon.

Let's Send Her out for some *help* dear

RepoMan was the best film I thought I had seen in ages. I laughed, giggled and basically scared the neighbours with my unbridled glee as I watched and rewatched my taped off whatever the PaYTV channel of the time was onto my VHS recorder.

So delighted was I that I insisted upon giving my parents a viewing when they were up my way visiting. Obviously this was a while ago as my mother was still living.

They watched the film in speechless horror as I recited the radiation scene along with the actor playing J. Frank Parnell. afterwhich my mother said:

"Dear-- I really think you should speak to someone."

and my father said:

"Banish those images from your mind before they permanently pollute your soul."
I think he might have even said a prayer. The humour completely eluded them.

Poor old Mumsies. She was a grand old gal but she really felt sci-fi and fantasy were bricks on the road to hell. As they left for their posh hotel, since naturally staying with me in my godless condo was out of the question-- who knows what fornication may have taken place,-- I heard my Mum whispering to my dad quietly as they exited.

"I don't care what it costs dear. Let's send her out for some help. Someone skilled in such matters. This can't go on. Lord knows where it could end. "

My dad whispered conspiratorially back:
"Drugs, darling. I am sure of it."

awww bless their hearts, they were so cute.

Demons and angels-- what lies beneath

My belly houses a demon, a dragon in miniature. It may not yet be matured but the fire it spews has touched me. Three times we have met and fought and twice it was conquered. I thought it dead but it was just dormant, waiting for another chance.

Here we are round 3. The damned wyrm is growing as I type this. This parasite is fooling my corporeal self into believing it belongs as it slowly devours me. This is a battle I must give over to a champion to fight on my behalf. We meet on the fields soon. This weekend is all I have to get through and then my colours fly over the fields.

This time I want no mercy shown. I want everything the dragon has touched out of me. I want it sliced, diced and disposed of. I want to wake up with nothing but a scar and some drug induced dreams to show for it.

What happened to St. George after he slew the dragon?
Ah history cannot even confirm his existence yet his legend lives on.
Perhaps I should wear my Gold Sovereign. That might tip the scales in my favour.

Radiation frightens me. By now, I should have 3 heads. All those whacks to the head and susequent surgeries necessitated many X-Rays. Not as many as the fella in **repo-man but close.
Very close.

Why this should be any different I do not know.
But the beast within must die.
Hopefully the host will live on.

btw; you want to read another weird site--- check out the one the wyrm graphic is from.
Now this is some strange universe these minds--- click here and be one with the trionics
--------------

** (from Repo Man)
J. Frank Parnell: Ever been to Utah? Ra-di-a-tion. Yes, indeed. You hear the most outrageous lies about it. Half-baked goggle-box do-gooders telling everybody it's bad for you. Pernicious nonsense. Everybody could stand a hundred chest X-rays a year. They ought to have them, too. When they canceled the project it almost did me in. One day my mind was full to bursting. The next day - nothing. Swept away. But I'll show them. I had a lobotomy in the end.
Otto: Lobotomy? Isn't that for loonies?
Parnell: Not at all. Friend of mine had one. Designer of the neutron bomb. You ever hear of the neutron bomb? Destroys people - leaves buildings standing. Fits in a suitcase. It's so small, no one knows it's there until - BLAMMO. Eyes melt, skin explodes, everybody dead. So immoral, working on the thing can drive you mad. That's what happened to this friend of mine. So he had a lobotomy. Now he's well again.
**

Time and Timelessness

My home is a shrine to measuring time. Clocks and suchlike things are everywhere. Wayward clocks and meticulously maintained machines, I have them all. But still, there is this piece of me that believes that time matters not.

Since my dreamself became unruly, and my mind misbehaved-neurons firing at inconvenient moments resulting in parasomniac episodes, I have to take these medications that reduce the likelihood of my wandering about by about 95%. The downside is that they also make it difficult to remember my dreams. I soar and fly still, but where and why is gone to me.

Last night the dream that troubles me most came upon me. It sits on my soul like a raven, cruel bill just above my eyes, waiting. Time is gone from me here. Time and timelessness.
My dream extends flat like a line.... ever and always and my moribund body waits futilely for an intersection. On and on and on.

My eyelids fluttered and I struggled to wake up. Get up Pep, get up.
Back I sank into the deepness for centuries. Again my body struggled- get up PEP, get up.

Finally it departed me, leaving a taste of metal and madness. As I left my home and began my workday, the chain of time slipped back on me. Thank God.

Songs OF Arda * tra-la-la-la-lally

*Songs of Arda*

anti-cranky devices

Another method tried and true:
Watch the Matrix trilogy again.

Somehow this touches the myth-lore-archetype-hole in my soul.

Whatever it is, it works.

You have to choose, Neo.

Made me Laugh

Nina Hagen

http://www.beepworld.de/members77/ninahagendas/


This is her official website.
Okay.....


Officially weird.

Happy V-Day!

♥ Happy Valentines Day ♥

Remember the Ocean Ranger

25 years ago tomorrow, a terrible tragedy.
Remember the Ocean Ranger.
All hands lost at sea.

Wrym Update

ok the beast in my belly is not slain.
The fight continues.

Damned wyrms.

Thieves of Arts and Minds

Posted a link to a video I loved...

D.O.A. "The Prisoner

Sorry to see that user violated copyright.
Sorrier that I linked to it.

If it gets uploaded by Joey or the band I'l relink it/
a great song is a great song but....
no thievery pls

Dragons and Wryms

Off to the wars.
Off to fight a dragon.

I am hoping my Wrym is easily defeated.

Wish me luck.

Bad Day

I had a bad day.
I was incredibly inappropriate several times to several people and didnt realise until after the moment HOW incredibly inappropriate I was.

THEN AS IF THATS NOT BUGGERY ENOUGH:

I ran over a backpack and broke someone's new iPod.
Someone's new 20 GIG iPod.

shit.

Karmic balances

The World Vision people are blitzing my area.
I answered the door to a very pretty south asian descent woman who was articulate and informative and took the time to point out features about children that were eligible for *sponsorship*.

Thirty five dollars a month.
That is one or two shiny things.
I would rather know a shiny face had enough to eat.

Perhaps I can think more of others and less of my own struggles.

this is a start

Upliftng Poetry from my dear ol' J.R.R.

Above all shadows rides the Sun
and Stars for ever dwell-
I will not say the Day is done,
nor bid the Stars farewell.

-------------------*------------------------------

*Man táre antáva nin Ilúvatar, Ilúvatar
What will the Father, O Father, give me
*enyáre tar i tyel, íre Anarinya qeluva?
in that day beyond the end when my Sun faileth?

-------------------*------------------------------


Wanderers in the shadowed land

O! Wanderers in the shadowed land
despair not! For though dark they stand,
all woods there be must end at last,
and see the open sun go past:
the setting sun, the rising sun,
the day's end, or the day begun.
For east or west all woods must fail ...

Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes! (Turn and face the strain)

Oh look out you rock and rollers!

-----------

Head in a spin, whirling with all the changes, I look around to my Office and see new faces in cubicles, old faces gone, and trainees trying to navigate the system.

A random act of kindness. OOO it was me who did it.
I saw a piece of paper at the bottom of the shiny new copier/everything machine, and noticed the label on top said "Line busy fax not send"

I looked at my co-worker who was waiting for the machine and said:
"If I were a good Samaritan I would resend this for her..."

Of course I did.
What was interesting to me is that the piece of paper had been sitting there for 24 hours. Other people use the machine. Everyone I work with can read. It was an application for an internal posting that this person had sent and left, thinking it was good.

Been fooled myself before too many times, too many ways, I never believe these machines until I have either a verification # or slip in my hot little hands.
So I duly stamped this little form and put it in her file.

Be interesting to see if she gets the job.
Hope so.

On the lighter side, I met two, count em TWO health care workers, one in Nursing one in Health Care Support who wanted to work the dreaded evening shift.

GO FOR IT!
They were both saying things like: Oh I dont know if I can get that posting... should I apply for it?

I didn't say it but I thought it:
"Honey NOONE bloody wants the damned posting thats why its posted yet AGAIN."

Evenings and nights for these women and men on those shifts are awful. High workload, lots of miles, and rarely quiet. It is de rigor to finish your shift on an adrenil high at midnite.

If they want it, give it to them. Happy people are productive people.

Joyful Pursuits lead to Pleasant Slumbers

This was a delightful film on so many levels.
What a pleasure to go to bed satisfied.

Todays'Joke

From the 96 year old lovely client:

"How do you tell a rich man from a poor man?

The rich man is the one with the canopy OVER the bed."

MAKE A WILL--- and probate if you are the beneficiary

Reading on Neil Gaiman, (ooo theres that name again...)'s site, about the need for creative people to update their wills and the dire consequences thereof should you not, I am moved to tell you ordinary folk what happened to us. Same song, different key.

My mother was heiress to a small estate that was, at one time, immense. Her father was a business savant and had properties all over the city. More importantly, he owned key blocks that he knew were imperative to the city's expansion. He also had options on other properties he felt important. He was an Engineer and a Scot. Very very savvy. Alas, he died too young and left his affairs en totale to his wife, who was, to be kind, a very pleasant well-bred Englishwoman.

What she didn't give away to scions of the city for fire sale prices, she moped over until selling. As the years went on, these once formidable holdings dwindled. This drove her eldest daughter, my Mother, quite wild as she like her father was very business savy. Grandmother would not yield power until she was very elderly, frail and then only under duress. So tens of millions turned to hundreds of thousands but still, not inconsequential.

My mother died and the love of her life, my father was her heir, At least that's what he said although he would never produce a will or even converse on the topic rationally. Dad, who was born to a very poor family and had worked his way to the top of his profession the very hard way, was not amenable to his wife's estate being probated. My eldest sister wanted to force the issue. She was quite correct.
Father of course dug his heels in and said "She left everything to me. It's mine mine mine." (yes, that is a direct quote)

My mothers decline and death had been long and drawn-out and during the course of it, our father had suffered a near fatal heart attack. He had also allowed her to die at home. This came at great cost to him. Emotionally & financially at least. We decided that we would not force him to probate.

---one year later----

Hell came to town in high heels, cheap breast implants and very cunning acumen regarding aging widowers with high libidos. Before you could say "RUN DAD RUN" they had eloped and that was that. 28 days after meeting. Silly Dad.

Too bad Dad's bliss lasted exactly one year. Mysteriously, he suffered a cerebral hemoragge from a blow to the head, requiring lengthy brain surgery and rehabilitation. After months in hospital he went home where he lived as a virtual prisoner for one year. The following year I started my campaign to free him.

so: the cunning little vixen got all the cash that was laying about in Mom's old accounts, the house on the water, the property in the States, 50% of my Dad's not insubstantial pension, and after he dies, as his last wife, she will get $77,000 a year for life, indexed.

Had we forced Dad to probate.,.. the accounts would have been protected, the house would still be his, and well.... likely this horrid bit of sleaze would have chosen a different victim as the probate thing would have shown up in a financial check.
(She does them before meeting and marrying her grieving spouses to be.)

It can happen to anyone.
Believe me.

I drive past the resorts in my paradise as a matter of course for work purposes, and I think about the complete injustice of things.

Nevermind. Karma gotta get her.
I would not want to be her. For any amount of money.
It is only money.

What does she see when she looks in the mirror? A demon with silicone breasts, collagen lips, and a trail of ex-husbands.

Nice bank balance though.
So, if an obvious type in her 60s gets cozy with YOUR father or someone you care abouts relative, GET A BACKGROUND CHECK DONE ON HER fast.
And if her first two names are RUTH LOUISE... well now.
We will have something in common.
Like the plague.

explains everything....

Thanks to the miracles of technology and the growing number of statistical information now available online, my expert genealogist sister has been poring over the latest releases.

We have found out that on our Father's side.... we are the product of two generations of cousins who married. Two first cousins whose children married their first cousins.

Well MY LORD does that not explain everything!
When my sister told my father this information, he allowed as how he did not see anything wrong with first cousins marrying.

uhm.....


*cough

Himself was here!

Ah puzzles! You know how I love a puzzle. What irritates me are clues ill-presented.
A few clues were planted my way this week in a disorderly fashion and the puzzle did not come together until I went to bed last night when the dream me send the awakening me a message. Receieved. Thank you.

It does sound like a bad re-write of a Bill & Ted movie but truly this is what transpired.

Day 1:
Walking into the assisted living building where so many of my clients reside, I heard the day manager on the telephone to a resident. She was frantically motioning to me and then asked if I was going to a certain person. I was not.
"Well she is on the phone telling me if she doesnt get her breakfast right now she is going to faint. And telling me to stop letting people in to use her bathroom. This is getting ridiculous."

Indeed so. Assisted living means housekeeping and one meal a day is provided. Breakfast and lunch are expected to be done by the resident. Dinner is a wonderful affair in the formal dining room where servers bring the meal. At no time did this building ever supply breakfasts or servers for breakfast.

Day 2:
Walking into the same building after a discussion on the intercom with the same person. "Now you aren't going to let any men in are you?"
Of course I am not.

When I went upstairs she wouldn't let me in until she was positive it was me.
"Who else would it be?" I asked her.

"The Devil himself."

Day 3:
I am in the suite serving up her medications with some protein as she seems a little wonky. She tells me how nice it is to have someone who knows what they are doing around. Interesting comment as it doesn't take a rocket scientist to pour and administer a medication. She looks at me and asks me:
"I always thought I was a fair person. Not a real good person I would say but a fair person."
Yes, I am sure you were/are I answer her wondering what brought this on.
"I had an awful turn when himself showed up. I guess I must be a bad person. And he seemed very genial too."

I really don't want to have to report this. I really really don't so I ask the building manager on the way out if anything out of the ordinary has been happening in the building.

"Other than her calling me 4 times a day worrying about people in her suite? No."

hmmm.....

The dream me is a smarty-pants sometimes.
I dream about this Irish woman and her homilies about devils and angels.
In my dream, she looks at me and says: "And the Devil's name is Hank."
I wake up immediatly and I know what happened.

Community Health like all branches of healthcare in this province has been undergoing dreadful changes. They filter on down the line and impact people like my client.
This little Irish woman has a note on her file NOT to send male workers. EVER.
They sent Hank.
Hank is tall and lanky with dark hair and a goatee.

Imagine what fresh hell that was for little Maggie the client.
At work today, I checked the notes and the schedules. Yup.
That's who was there.

Poor little Maggie. She really isn't as dotty as we think.
But I do stop by her home for a little chat to explain to her that this man Hank was in fact a good person not a minion of the Prince of Darkness and due to a regrettable error was sent to her home. I tell her this a few times a few ways until she tells me the story back.

"You know, the other day I looked up and there was Himself. So I called the Office. And they told me, no thats just Hank. He only looks like Himself."

What a week!

Levels of Incompetancy

It is rarely the doing of the unskilled worker, to be sent into situations they are ill-equipped for. Rarely. Hard to imagine an employer who would do the sending though. The Nurse Leader says:
"All of my workers are fully trained."

That's what she thinks.

Some of these very well-intentioned people have a Grade 10 education backed up by on the job training to be cooks and housekeepers. When Governments took charge of such services, they mandated these in-place work forces be upgraded to the minimal Nurses Aide standard.

Sounds good, yes?
NO!

Who did the upgrading?
Why the Supervisors of the time. Who of course had no vested interest in seeing their employees upgraded rather than having to rehire and retrain.

Working alongside of these upgraded people is like playing roulette. You never know what you are going to get. Some of them are truly fabulous Nurse's Aides and some of them wouldn't know a bottle of french dressing from a bandage. The ones with the low skills tend to be older, in their 50s and 60s and you CANT TELL THEM ANYTHING because they know everything. Seniority etc....

I do not work alongside those people anymore. I know who is who now and I can insist on proper support in appropriate situations. What brought this to mind was a very capable and well-trained worker telling me about a *senior employee* who puts on her gloves to do bowel care and leaves those gloves on for unseemly periods of time.
*ugh*

Number 1: What is a HealthCare Worker in the field doing Bowel care for anyway?
It is a Licensed Practical Nursing function. I wouldn't let _anyone_ touch me internally who didn't have their LPN at least. Think about those gloves.
Think about being contaminated by a person who knows it all whilst infecting you with whatever....

UGH

rant au jour

Things I cannot change.

Wind out of my Sails

Some dreadful news was delivered to me.

I am processing.
I thought I had a tiger by the tail but it turns out to be a tornado AND a tiger.

so buggerit.
bloody bollocky buggerit.

Perhaps there is a song or poem in there I can sell.
Meantime it's up to Wids to pull up the slack.