My fever is broken!!

Hurrah!  Hurray!  Weee!!

I'm still not feeling 100%, but I feel a heck of alot better than I did 4.6 degree ago!

This means that today I got out into the garden (in fact, out into the world at ALL) for the first time since Wednesday morning.  And, I discovered some of our lovely tomatoes were showing signs of blossom-end rot.  Le sigh.  Apparently I haven't been watering enough... or maybe there isn't enough calcium in the soil... either way, I sprinkled a generous amount of powdered milk at the base of each and will henceforth be watering religiously.  Only a few of the fruit needed to be tossed to the chickens, so hopefully I caught it early enough to prevent a big loss.

I also discovered several zucchini that should have been picked days ago... one was the size of my forearm... so the poor dears are relegated to baking purposes only, as the flavor and texture aren't quite right for eating on their own at that size.  They yielded 9 cups of shredded zucchini.  Yipes.  Looks like I'll be getting a head start on our freezer supply of zucchini bread.  I'm baking my way through the massive bowl of batter, but have only three loaf pans to work with, so it's slow going over here.  I'm going to be up late tonight.  I am reminded of a part of "Animal, Vegetable, Miracle" by Barbara Kingsolver in which she describes the desperate attempts gardeners make to rid themselves of their excess of zucchini.... and to protect themselves from being "gifted" with the same.  And it's only the end of June....

Zucchini Bread

2 eggs
1.5 c sugar
0.5 c honey
1 c vegetable oil
2 c grated raw zucchini
3 tsp vanilla
1 c whole wheat flour
2 c all purpose flour
1 tsp kosher salt
1 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp baking powder
3 tsp ground cinnamon
1 c sunflower seeds (or chopped walnuts/filberts, whatever you prefer)

Beat the eggs until light and foamy.  Add the zucchini, sugar, oil, and vanilla and mix well.  Combine flour salt, soda, power and cinnamon in a separate bowl, mix well, then add to wet ingredients.  Stir until well blended, add seeds/nuts, and pour into two greased loaf pans.  Bake at 350 degrees for about an hour. 
Alternately, add chocolate chips and bake in muffin pans... delicious and sinful.
These loaves keep well at room temperature, and freeze beautifully too!

...Again??

...I'm sick.  Feels like the flu. We'll know soon enough, if it persists beyond today, I call it the flu, and I call out of work tonight.

Had a horrible night at work last night.  Continuous bladder irrigation, blood transfusions, stinky colostomies, combative, demented patients screaming their heads off and throwing punches each time I tried to go near enough to find out what was the matter.  All with a fever, body aches, nausea, and a sore throat that won't quit. 

Time to curl up under the covers and try to heal.

Sweet corn pancakes, mud and zucchini.

Well, Honeybunch and I completed the 10k adventure race "mud run" this past weekend.  What a challenge!  6.3 miles of running, climbing, swimming, mucking, jumping, sliding, and belly-crawling through mud.  We were literally up to our ears in mud!  I really enjoyed the obstacles (think bootcamp on a rainy day... cargo nets, hurdles, walking across a ravine on ropes), and the pure ridiculousness of being so incredibly filthy.  We got hosed down by a fire truck after completing the race, and it still took three cycles through the washing machine to get our clothes (mostly) clean.

A local farm has already begun harvesting sweet corn and blueberries, which is positively thrilling me.  This past weekend I made sweet corn pancakes with homemade raw butter (which turned out so neon yellow I could hardly believe it).  It tasted like heaven.  The recipe I use is adapted from one given to me by dear TreeMan.  His mother used to make them in batches for 60+ people at a time!!  We've divided the recipe to serve about 10 people, and you can halve it again if you want but I find that these are best when shared with neighbors and friends.  I fyou want pure, straight-up buttermilk pancakes, the original recipe called for all white flour and no spices/vanilla.  I personally can't resist fuddling with it to complement whatever goodies I'm adding (corn, blueberries, raspberries, chocolate chips...).  I've added other spices and whole grain flours with great success, so feel free to experiment so long as you keep the proportions in tact.


Sweet Corn Pancakes

Mix in batches to feed 10 people at a time as listed below.
4 ½ c. flour (I usually use 2 c. whole wheat flour and 1/2 c. finely ground corn meal here)
1/4 c. sugar
2 tbsp + 2 tsp. baking powder
2 tsp. soda
2 tsp. salt
1 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp cardamom
2 tsp vanilla extract
4 eggs
½ c. oil
6 c. buttermilk*
1 c. fresh or frozen sweet corn kernels (or other goodies).
Sift dry ingredients together.  Beat eggs in a separate bowl. Stir in oil and buttermilk and beat together.
Add to dry ingredients, stirring only until dry ingredients are completely moistened.  Fold in corn.  DO NOT OVER BEAT!
Brush hot griddle with vegetable oil and fry, turning once.  My rule of thumb is to turn my pancakes when there are at least 5 bubbles forming in the center of the cake.

Serve with fresh butter and warmed maple syrup.  These keep well in the fridge for several days and can be gently reheated in the oven with great success. 

* Add a tablespoon of vinegar to a cup of milk and let it stand for five minutes and you have made buttermilk.

Our garden is providing us with snow and snap peas, green beans, lettuces, carrots and zucchini now.  A few little hot peppers the size of my little finger sprung up overnight where I swear there had just been flowers yesterday.  Despite having cages as support, I've had to tie up the branches of our tomato plants to keep them from breaking with the weight of the fruit growing on them.  They're positively loaded, and some of the fruit are already as big as my fist.  Next year I may invest in some Texas Tomato cages like these http://tomatocage.com/, as my tomato plants are almost taller than I am and stretching far above the funnel-shaped wire cages I used to support them.

The chickens haven't laid eggs for the past two days.  I'm wondering what the heck is going on with them... they don't appear to be molting, they're acting normal and healthy... just no eggs.  I've searched the yard to see if they had a hidden nest somewhere but there's nothing.  Very curious.  I suppose they're lucky we're vegetarian... but if they keep this up I might make an exception!!

Not really.  I love those birds.  I'd keep chickens even if they didn't lay eggs, just for their antics and snuggles. 

Oh, Popcorn.  You act so tough in the yard but you're really just a big ol' softie!!

Bringin work home with me.

I found it rather surreal this morning when I came home from working on a cardiac floor all night and awakened my Honeybunch to have him sit up and bed and tell me that his "heart feels weird".  

He was having palpitations, and as I pressed my ear to his chest I heard his heart beating irregularly and rapidly.  When it did not pass after a couple minutes, I said that I thought we should go to the ER.  He agreed, and went to take an aspirin (he has Factor V Leiden, which makes him more at risk to develop blood clots).  As he bent to drink from the faucet, the palpitations vanished, and upon listening to his heart I found it pulsing out its usual slow, steady drumbeat.  At first I was relieved, but the suddenness with which the rapid irregular nature of the rhythm went away made it even more weird.  The concerns lingered and we went to the ER to have him checked out.

The telemetry monitor wanted to make him look like a liar, and he sat in the cot for four hours with a perfect sinus waveform bouncing across the screen. 

It was really, really strange to be on both sides of the situation in one morning.

I'm a worry-wort and I know it.  I'm that family member who all nurses wish didn't exist... works in healthcare, watching every move you make, asking questions, suggesting theories, anxiously glued to the bedside.  I was irritated that no one else seemed concerned about the Factor V Leiden history in combination with symptoms that sounded VERY much to me like paroxysmal atrial fibrillation.  Hello thrombus?? 

Finally, doc comes back with news.  Blood work is fine, chest x-ray is fine, D-Dimer (a blood test used to screen for clots) is within normal limits. Follow up with your PCP and avoid caffeine, they say.

Relieved, but still unsettled.  Wishing I had a homemade EKG machine at the ready for if/when it happens again.  Honeybunch thinks that he can make one pretty easily, which I find hilariously amusing. 

Either way, I'm likely to be even more patient and sympathetic towards anxious family members than usual at work tonight.

Round two and running.

The season is moving on.  Spinach and strawberries are waning, to be replaced by zucchini and cherries.  The sight of cherries at the farmer's market this past weekend was such a thrill... they looked like such beautiful little jewels, in their red and blushing yellow! 

A few recent night runs on the rocky trails of our local woodlands have led me to discover the downside of "barefoot" running (in Vibram FiveFingers)... stubbed toes!  Goodness me, my left foot is throbbing today from the many expletive-laced encounters with rocks and roots last night.  This revelation about running shoes has enabled me to run painlessly in regards to my knees, hips and back... but my toes are taking a serious beating.  I suppose I should run by daylight instead of by the light of a red headlamp, at least until I learn to pick up my feet.  However, night runs feel so damn good... the chilled air, the rich smells of cooling earth, the quiet... so far we haven't come across anyone else on the trails at night.  It's much easier to get me out there at night than on a 90 degree afternoon.

The 10k mud race is this Saturday, and I'm fairly certain that I'll end up walking a good portion of it.  I'm getting stronger and running longer, but I'm unlikely to finish the race without stopping to walk once each half mile.  I'm okay with that.  The whole point of running in general is to have fun, and the point of this race is to have fun and raise funds for a good cause.  Whether I walk or run across the finish line, I'll enjoy the process.

BEST ICE CREAM EVER.

Seriously.  And the easiest to make.  No cooking up egg custard and waiting for it to cool... just whip it up and throw it in the ice cream maker!!  We used some honey as well and it is simply unbelievable.  This recipe is originally from Dinner with Julie at http://dinnerwithjulie.com/ .

Sour Cream Ice Cream

2 cups full-fat sour cream

1 cup half-and-half

½ cup heavy whipping cream

½ cup sugar

1 teaspoon fresh lemon juice

½ teaspoon vanilla

pinch of salt


Whisk everything together. Pour the mix into your ice cream maker and freeze. (I cover the top of the ice cream with some plastic wrap to help prevent against freezer burn.)

Dr. Jekyll

83 year old man admitted with change in mental status.  Sweet as pie, but confused and forgetful.  Makes multiple attempts throughout the night to get out of bed by himself, setting off the bed exit alarm and prompting me to rush into the room, settle him back in bed, speak softly to him and remind him that he needs to call for help if he wants to get out of bed.  "Thank you for all the work you do, sweetheart", he says to me.  "It's no trouble at all.  Try to get some good rest tonight", I reply.

83 year old man admitted with change in mental status.  Obnoxious, but confused and forgetful.  Makes multiple attempts throughout the night to get ouf of bed by himself, setting off the bed exit alam and prompting me to rush into the room, settle him back in bed, speak softly to him and remind him that he needs to call for help if he wants to get out of bed.  "You're a downright witch, what's that in your pocket, did your parents leave you out in the cold?" he demands loudly of me, reaching his unwashed hands into my scrub pocket to grope for the pens, saline flushes and scissors there.  "Get your hands out of my pocket!  That is very rude!", I reply.

Where did that sweet, though slightly confused old man go?  DID YOU EAT HIM?!?

62 year old man admitted with pneumonia.  Homeless, absolutely filthy even after multiple intense scrubbings by staff, positive urine drug screen for opiates, elevated blood alcohol level upon admission.  The first night I cared for him as a new admission, I walked into the room to find feces all. over. everything.  Walls, floor, commode, bed, bedrails, patient... everything.  I patiently clean him up, he yells at me for bothering him, I firmly tell him that he has poop all over himself, and that part of being healthy is being clean and I simply cannot let him lie in that mess.  He concedes.  Refuses his meds.  Goes to sleep. 

The second night I have him, I receive in report that he was pleasant, calm, cooperative, agreeable to the treatment plan, taking all of his meds and resting comfortably.  I breathe a sigh of relief, happy to hear that his attitude about his healthcare seems to have changed.

I enter the room and find that he is refusing all assessments, all care, vital signs, meds, EVERYTHING.  He would not even permit me to take his temperature.  Uses explitives to get his point across.  Is completely disinterested in the fact that our nursing staff pooled money together and bought him new, clean clothes (to replace the ones saturated with urine and feces... including IN THE POCKETS... the smell of which made a seasoned nurse vomit when she handled them).  Yells until I finally leave the room. 




Sometimes, I can have seven patients, and it honestly feels like I'm caring for fourteen of them.  Holy hell.  I need some sleep.

Even as the days lengthen...

...I'm finding it difficult to find time to accomplish all that I need to.  There are days when I look at my Honeybunch and ask him, "How are we ever going to do this on a large scale?"

He works full time, and is building a business of making incredible LED and fire flow toys unlike any that I've seen on the market.  While mostly still in the R&D phase, he's producing staves and hoops for talented friends and acquaintances every so many weeks, prototypes of what he'll soon be able to introduce to the flow arts community at large.  It's amazing work, but time consuming and demanding of much of his energy.  There are circuit boards to be burnt (in the dark room, aka our shower), new LEDS to experiment with, programs to write and processes to streamline.  I'm very proud of him.

I work part time, and on paper that really sounds like I should be plowing through my To-Do lists on a daily basis with time to spare.  But somehow I am always behind.  I don't think it's a matter of poor time management... I multitask like a pro.  But still the laundry is never REALLY done, there are constantly dishes to be washed in the sink, fresh produce in the fridge waiting to be cooked, consumed or preserved, and weeds crop up almost as soon as my hand plow passes through the soil.

And there's aphids.  Slugs.  Chicken/cat/skunk poopies to be mucked out.  Inherited cold compost that hasn't been turned in two years, recently turned by my Honeybunch only to find infestation with horrible, awful pests that I shall not even name here!  Suddenly there's a need to construct an entirely new composting system, the tomato and pepper bed is in SERIOUS need of mulching in this hot weather, we run out of homemade laundry soap (AND out of the supplies to make it... what store did we find the washing soda at again?).  Oh yes, and I'd like to build some mosquito-proof rainwater barrels, please.

What really frightens me is that this sense of being overwhelmed comes when we're living in an APARTMENT in suburbia, with a few backyard garden beds and just under a dozen chickens.  How will we handle it all when there's a house to manage, hay to bale, a flock of sheep who need their hooves trimmed? 

I am trying to be kind to myself and believe that it's okay to be scared and overwhelmed, that this is a practice run and I'm new to the processes involved in building self reliance.  It's easier to eat vegetables that you've unceremoniously stripped of their sheer plastic garments, to wash your clothes with goo from a brightly colored plastic bottle, to eat pizza out of a cardboard box.  It is simpler to live a sterile life with no soil to scrub from beneath your fingernails, no animal feces to scrape off the bottoms of your boots, no little creature lives depending on you to close up the coop at night to keep them safe. 

I am not choosing this life because it is simple or easy.  I am choosing this life because it feels better, it tastes better, it is healthier for us and for our planet, it is guiltless (though not painless), more connected to the earth and the rhythms of nature, more fulfilling and challenging and fruitful.  I ache in my heart when aphids attack my lettuces because I am happiest seeing life spring from the good black earth that I've worked with my own hands.  I am not crazy, nor am I a masochist, and the benefits far outweigh the cost.

This is what I need to remember when I feel overwhelmed. 

A long catch-up post.

First of all, I'd like to express my gratitude to the service men and women (and their families) who sacrifice their everything for us.  Thank you.



Now, my most recent moral quandry at work.  I received a patient from the ER the other night... 90-something years old with severe dementia that made her nonverbal, in with a bowel obstruction.  Her abdomen was so distended and rock hard that it was actually distorted in shape.  They put a nasogastric tube in her to suction, and used soft medical restraints on her wrists to keep her from pulling the tube out.  Her family had decided to make her DNR, and that they would not be operating on her to fix the bowel obstruction. 

So why put a tube down her nose, a very uncomfortable intervention... which initiated the need for restraints?  The tube was not even draining anything.  All night this women was fighting against the restraints trying to get this tube out. 

She developed respiratory distress with an oxygen saturation of 85% near the end of my shift.  I did what I could to make her comfortable...called the physician and respiratory therapist who bumped up her oxygen and gave her a nebulizer treatment, checked on her every ten minutes while the next shift listened to my taped report, let the nurse taking over know that she really wasn't doing very well and that she should be seen first.  I drove home, worrying about this woman and wondering what else I could have done. 

When I came in the following night I learned that she'd died half an hour after I'd left that morning.  I was relieved for her... but still question what more I could have done to advocate for this woman and her comfort at the end of life.

In other news, aphids have overrun my salad garden.  I am livid!  I tried a spray that had worked on our pomegranate tree before when it became infested... a pureed combination of garlic, onion, cayenne pepper and Dr. Bronner's soap.  The little buggers went running for their lives, I saw them leaping away as I sprayed... but the next day they were back in full force.  The greens themselves look beautiful, they are thriving and I'd really like to be eating them... but I'm not thrilled with the idea of dining on aphids and I don't have twenty minutes to inspect each leaf after washing them!  If you have any magic cures for aphid infestation, please comment.  I've heard of ladybugs, but it might be too late to obtain them mailorder?

The latest additions to our flock seem healthy and happy, and the little Australorps are as big as our Golden Sexlinks now. They'll be popping out eggs before we know it! Recently one of the big girls laid a teensy little egg... here it is next to an average-sized Sexlink egg.  We scolded them for slacking off and the next day they were back to laying proper eggs :)

Our tomatoes are thriving and peaking out over the tops of the tomato cages.  All of them are loaded with blossoms, and several of them have little greenies!  We found one tomato plant growing sideways out of the compost pile and decided to transplant it into the garden... it's doing very well and is learning to grow upright.  Several others have come up on their own in the beds, apparently from last year's seed.  We've given them proper new homes wherever we've found room.  I am crossing my fingers for LOTS of fresh tomatoes this year.

Our potatoes are thriving.  We've been "hilling them up" with straw and several of the bags are nearly at capacity, with the tops almost completely unrolled.  The plants look very healthy, with strong stems and big green leaves... but who knows what's going on in the dark?  I'd love to have lots of homegrown organic blue taters this fall.

We received our first CSA shipment last week.  We got microgreens, red lettuce, kale, romaine, scallions, cress, radishes, Hakurei turnips, radicchio, and asparagus.  The greens became a big salad and sandwich ingredients, the rest went into a yummy stirfry over rice.  It held us over until the weekend, when we visited the farmer's market and indulged in lots of strawberries, rhubarb, sugarsnap and snow peas, brocolli, cauliflower, asparagus and local sharp cheddar.  Our next CSA drop-off is on Wednesday this week because of the holiday.

Last night I was scheduled to go in to work for the holiday.  LAME.  But, I showed up and found that another nurse who was not on the schedule had come in by mistake and wanted to stay... so they sent me home!  I was thrilled.  My honeybun and I strapped on our FiveFingers and went for a midnight run through the woods, a far superior way to spend the night.  At one point my ankle rolled painfully and I heard a "pop!".  I was terrified that I'd broken my ankle FOR THE FOURTH TIME... but found that it was just a bit tender and after walking for a few minutes I could still run on it.  The tendon must be loose and have rolled over the bone, producing that horrible sound.  Ah, the dangers of running with only a headlamp to guide you over rocky trails!  Lots of stubbed toes, too... but overall it was exhilirating and great fun.  We're training for a 10k two weeks from now... we're in the recreational heat, so we're not aiming to be the fastest... so long as we finish it, have a good time while we're doing it, and raise some funds for a good cause, I'm happy!

It's a hot one out there today, but weeds are calling.  Happy Memorial Day!

Hello, my name is Gelfling, and I am an addict.

Yesterday we went to a local nursery to purchase a few herbs to fill some planters sitting vacant in the yard.  On the list was lemongrass, lemon balm and borage.
We left with lemongrass, lemon balm, lemon basil, purple basil, foxglove, echinacea, and a cinnamon fern.  And then we stopped by a local family farm and picked 5 overflowing quarts of fresh strawberries. 

I blame my darling man... he's an enabler. 

 "I'm sure we can find room for more plants/chickens/strawberries, dear..."

He draws the line at bunnies, though.  I am bunny-obsessed, and lately have been prone to jumping around excitedly and exclaiming "BUNNIES!  BUNNIES!  I WANT BUNNIES!" at random.  He hasn't budged, and we remain bunny free at the present.  However, he does admit that it would be really cute to have bunnies running around the yard with the chickens (and I briefly considered changing the name of my blog to "Broody Bunnies" because the idea is just too cute to handle).  

Today is the last day of our little vacation together, and I am vowing to keep far, far away from nurseries, animal shelters and strawberry fields.  The first step is admitting you have a problem, right??

My birthday looked like this:

...plus an awesome run in the woods.  One of the best birthdays yet!

Broken bones

I've never broken another person's bones before. 

Last night, the words, "I need a nurse in room 15 NOW" rang out from the monitor station on our unit, breaking the early morning stillness.  I ran into the room (somehow donning gloves on the way) and found an older gentleman lying in bed, staring at the ceiling blankly, and his chest wasn't moving.  I checked his pulse.  Nothing.  I checked his arm for a DNR bracelet, called out for someone to call a code. 

One of our nurse's aides ran in and, exhibiting superhuman strength for a woman her size, rolled him to the side so we could place the board underneath him.  At the same time another nurse came in with the code cart, saying he was in asystole (for non-medical folk, this is the "flat line" you see on TV... not good).  We got the board placed and lowered the bed as far as it would go... which was unfortunately not far enough for a woman of 5'6" to give effective compressions to a large, barrel-chested man.  I climbed onto the bed, kneeling next to his chest, and began giving deep, forceful compressions. 

The code team arrived within a minute, and as the respiratory therapist struggled for 12 whole minutes to get a breathing tube placed, as the monitor on the Zoll defibrillator continued to show no rhythm, as IVs were started and drugs were pushed, I kept pressing with all of my might into that man's sternum.  I felt sweat running down my face and gathering behind my knees.  I felt something crack beneath my hands, and was vaguely aware of the fact that I probably just broke one of his ribs.  I heard the physician's voice say, "hold compressions".  I pressed my fingers against his neck, and said "I've got a pulse".  A glance at the monitor showed P-waves and QRS complexes.  A nurse on the other side of the bed reported a BP of 225/120... not great under normal circumstances, but it was something.  I climbed down from the bed as they prepared to wheel him down to intensive care. 

The likeliness of him recovering is slim, having been without an airway for as long as he had been.  But every person in that room was fighting as hard as they could to give him a chance, and I have the sore back to prove it.  I just hope that if he does recover he gets adequate pain management for that fractured rib.

A week in pictures

Lovely juicy berries on the way!

Homemade pierogis

Salad Blue potatoes growing in bags

Tomatoes and peppers looking happy in the garden

The new coop

Prince, the terrifying beast!!

Iris

Praying mantis nymph

Rhubarb, prepped to make wine

Howdy!

What I've learned this week...

If you throw up at work in the middle of getting report, they will send you home, and then you will be stuck wide awake and feeling like crap all night long, trying to be quiet so you're honeybunny can sleep. 

When you hear in report that a patient is "a little sleepy", that could very well mean "entirely unresponsive to verbal or painful stimuli" for your shift. 

"On hospice, DNR, but ok to intubate" is a very confusing combination of terms to use when discussing the code status of a patient.  Don't wait to clarify this with the patient, family and physician.  It sucks having to call a family member in the middle of the night when there's a change in the patient's condition and no one before you has determined EXACTLY what they want done for that patient.

Potatoes are slippery, and freshly sharpened knives will go right through your thumb if you're not careful.

Baby praying mantises are super cute!

Happy Beltaine!

May is upon us, but man oh man does it feel like August out there today.  The sun is burning the leaves of our swiss chard, and I am hiding from it inside our cool stone-walled little cave.  The cooking, gardening, and outdoor projects can wait until the worst heat of the day passes. 

Yesterday brought the opening day of our local farmer's market, and I pulled myself out of bed after two hours of sleep to make it there on time... I was hardly even tired, it felt like Christmas morning!

We were pleased to discover several produce stands, folks selling goats milk and organic raw cow's milk, and even a guy growing pesticide-free greenhouse tomatoes!

We left with two bunches of asparagus, a bunch of kale, three bags of spinach, a bunch of rhubarb, half a gallon of raw milk, three tomatoes, and plenty of yukon gold taters. 

My plan for this evening is to make pierogis, rhubarb crisp, and kale/chard pie.  Nomnomnomnom.....

Last night I hosted a women's circle in celebration of the full moon and of Beltaine, and I found it incredibly refreshing to spend time with 12 other women of different ages and backgrounds discussing the challenges we're all facing regarding balance, success and happiness.  I've felt the need for more feminine energy in my life lately, and feel recharged and inspired today.

Time to make the best of this summer-like day and make some sun tea!

Another month gone by.

April is drawing to a close.  This means several things to me right now.

My orientation period as a new nurse will be over in one week, and I'll be on my own.  That's not to say that I won't have help from my coworkers, but it is a transition from "orientee" to real, honest-to-goodness "employee".  I am really hoping that I do my job well.

Our frost date approaches.  I cannot wait to let all of my little tomatoes and peppers and squashes stretch out their legs and take root in our raised bed.

Our CSA should begin its weekly deliveries soon!  I intend to blog each week about what we receive and how we use/preserve it.

I will be 23 years old very shortly. I distinctly remember a time when I could not imagine living to be this age. Time is going by too quickly and it frightens me.  I am looking at my life and wondering if I'm really doing everything I can to maximize my time on this planet.  I need to find a way to give more, to be more creative, and connect with the people around me.  I've been very hobbit-ish lately, wrapped up with my own little life and concerns.  I'd like to change that. 

Baker's fury.

If I were just a little bit more mentally unstable than I am right now, I might just put a few bulletholes in the POS oven we have in this place.  14 cups of homemade granola, burnt to a blackened crisp.  The oven was set to 300 degrees.  The thermometer that I put in there read 300 degrees.  I put the baking sheets full of nuts, seeds, oats and goodness in the oven, and when I came back ten minutes later to stir them (halfway through the cooking time), the thermometer read 475 degrees, and my delicious, nutritious and somewhat costly granola had become chicken food.  I want to scream, cry, and break things.  I used to last of my sunflower seeds in it.  I need a hug.

The dark side of the garden

I am learning that in order to be a successful gardener, one must be positively ruthless.  Don't let the bright orange daisy-patterned gloves fool you!  A good gardener must marshall the land with an iron fist!

For instance, seedlings.  I nurture these little guys from seed to stalk, anxiously awaiting those first sets of leaves, watering them gently and moving them outside for sunlight and inside to protect them from the cold... but ultimately, the time comes when the seedlings must be thinned.  I pinch the heads off of the weaker half of the lot without a second thought.

And slugs!  I try to be a gentle person, and honestly believe in the right of all living things to exist and live in peace.  Except when it comes to slugs in my lettuce patch.  I happily sprinkle diatomacous earth on my top soil, humming as I do so, thinking about those little buggers getting their bellies all sliced up as they approach my tender green-lings.

And let's not even go into detail about what happens to those big, juicy grubs dug up while turning the soil at the start of the season... but it does involve eleven chickens chasing one another around the yard excitedly.

Oh goodness no, it's certainly not all flowers and strawberries and butterflies out there... not by a long shot...

Objective vs. Subjective

As nurses, we cannot document "this patient exhibits drug-seeking behaviors and is not experiencing any real pain at all, why the hell are we feeding their habit and allowing them to manipulate the system?"  Subjective documentation is a legal nightmare and will get you sued in a second, not to mention the fact that it may not always be accurate, as they are tainted by your perception of what happened.  All we may document is what the person says, and what we actually see.

So, this morning, my progress note looked something like this:

Pt c/o pain 8/10 "all over" and requested Dilaudid, no facial grimacing, pt smiling, laughing, ambulating in hallways with steady gait, full ROM and relaxed posture, talkative and conversational with staff, requesting snacks.  Given Dilaudid IV as ordered, encouraged to rest in bed and utilize positioning to assist with pain management, verbalized relief, will continue to monitor pain, sedation level and respiratory status.


Some physicians will prescribe the drugs just to shut the patient up.  And, if the patient states that their pain is above a certain level, and if the required span of time between doses has passed and there are no concrete contraindications for giving that dose, I must administer it.  Even when it is painfully obvious (bad pun) that they are high as a kite and horrendously addicted... even when the same pattern of behavior is seen again and again, each time they are admitted for a new complaint (which always turns out to be unfounded).

This particular patient will know the drug and the dose and how often they can get it, and they will stay up all night if they can, enjoying the high and watching the clock so that they can get their next dose as soon as possible. 

It turns my stomach.  And it also amazes me a little bit, as the large and frequent doses of Dilaudid we were giving to this person would be knocking me out into next week.  Long-time abusers build up such a tolerance...

Things I learned in the past week

#1 Mulching really does work.  The strawberries we planted in our windowboxes have doubled in size and vitality since mulching them with leaf compost.

#2 You can fit 2 humans and 6 full-sized bales of straw into (yes, into, not on top of) a 3-door Hyundai Accent.  I do believe that this pretty much defines urban farming. 

#3 Some people don't want to be around for their loved ones when they die, and after you've called them and informed them of the change in that loved one's condition, all you can do is accept their decision to go back to sleep instead of coming in to say their goodbyes.  To each his own.

#4 If you are doing something that is far enough outside the mental "bubble" of the general public (such as doing circus arts in the middle of a grocery store), they will act as though you do not exist.  This reminds me very much of Neil Gaiman's description of people, things, places and times "slipping through the cracks" in Neverwhere.  It makes me laugh, and pushes me to do more and more absurd things just to see if people notice.