Magic is a State of Mind

My Life: "Re-Solved"

2012-01-07T09:42:00.000-08:00

Resolved: adj. firm in purpose or intent; determined

Solved: v. (used with an object) 1. to fined the answer or explanation for; clear up; explain

2. to work out the answer or solution

Originally, I had written a very long, rambling post to go with this title--but the more I thought about the point I actually wanted to get across, I decided to scrap it and go with something more simple, direct, and from the heart. So, here it goes:

I have a horribly apathetic attitude towards the New Year...always have. Especially when it comes to resolutions. During a moment of intense self-reflection, I have come to realize and accept that this is because I really struggle with the concept of endurance. Now, don't get me wrong: it's not a problem with all forms of endurance--there are many things in my life which I am deeply committed to--but for some reason, I keep tripping up when it comes to self-improvement. I lack staying-power in my goals...I'll do really well, and be really zealous for a while, and then it's like I run out of steam and my motivation starts circling the metaphorical drain...So what am I doing wrong?

When I was about fifteen, my mom gave me a book to read called Heshe, Meshe, Mison, and Orbit. It's a sort of coming of age tale about a young girl as she discovers what it means to become an adult. Anyway, her grandmother--who emigrated to Hawaii from China--teaches her these four Chinese philosophies to help guide her. And I kept thinking about the last one: orbit. In the book, her grandmother tells the girl, "If you always do what you've always done, you'll always be what you've always been."

As I was thinking about my problems with resolutions, that phrase popped into my head and I suddenly saw myself very clearly for a moment--my behavior patterns, my coping skills (or lack thereof), my stress triggers--and I decided to try something different. I'm going to start small.

I have a tendency to make grand "finished product" type plans. Now that I have a house and yard, I imagine what they will look like when they are completely "finished." But there are so many little things that need changing, or to be taken into consideration, that I very quickly get overwhelmed and decide to do something else...like knit or watch tv. Same thing with the rest of my life: I struggle with the concept of smaller, achievable goals. (Maybe because I'm a very impatient person at heart who wants to see results NOW.) But, obviously, my methods have not worked yet, so it's time to really try.

Here's my plan: I'm going to focus on three goals for two months. Just two months. I'm going to choose three different areas of my life and pick one thing from each that I can reasonably alter within that time frame for my benefit.

1. School: this is my biggest stressor bar none. I get the most stressed when I feel overwhelmed by the amount of work I have to do. This is usually because I've procrastinated. I procrastinate because I'm easily distracted by other things I have to do around the house, etc.

Solution: Set aside 30 minutes M-F to focus on just schoolwork while at home.

Keep track of this one with a chart on the fridge or some other highly visible place and reward myself periodically for a job well done.

2. Home: this is an area where I am constantly overreaching...What do I need the most right now in order to feel peaceful at home? A perpetually tidy refuge. A place to study. A place to relax. Can I have this right now? Not immediately, at least, not the way I envision it-- I'd need to do some intensive de-cluttering and rearranging first. So what can I do now to feel better at home?

Solution: Focus on maintaining the bedroom daily.

This is where I do most of my studying at the moment. And this is the room that suffers the most from day to day clutter. Since I share it, make sure that Patrick is willing to help me keep it in good condition. Make sure we discuss and agree on what "good condition" means...

3. Physical Health: I have lots of goals in this area, but I want to focus on exercise. I struggle with this because I don't have the time or money to go to a gym. Or someone to go with. I need to find something I enjoy enough to keep up with on my own.

Solution: Play Zumba Kinect at least twice a week and record it on the hard drive.

Let's say every Tues and Saturday since those are the days I usually have the most free time. It was very sweet of Patrick to give it to me for Christmas since he knows how much I miss going to the classes with Chrissy. I don't want it to be a wasted gesture.

So, let the achieving begin! I have two months from now to turn these goals into healthy habits. I will give a final report of my efforts on my birthday, March 7. And I will hold myself accountable with a weekly posting of how I've done. This post will be submitted before midnight each Saturday. ( I'm 80% certain that idea of admitting failure in a public forum ought to motivate me enough for these next few months.) Wish me luck and feel free to encourage me along the way! I'm pretty sure I'll need it!

Morphine and Knitting don't mix...

2011-12-05T21:36:00.000-08:00

So, early yesterday morning I awoke (for the millionth time that night) with really bad cramps in my right side. Now, I'm not a wuss. I've had cramps many times before and I suspect I will have them again in the future...but these were different. Usually the pain comes and goes and this was pretty constant for about 12 hours.

I decided that I wanted to consult a doctor; so my sweet husband duly got everything ready for a trip to the urgent care: insurance info, a fully charged iPod, and my knitting bag. (It was really strange to walk into the building where I work as a patient instead of a staff member.) Anyhow, we were in the process of checking in when the nurse came by to chat with us--and when I say "us" I mean "Patrick" because my voice has slowly been sneaking off for about three days and I didn't have much left by this point. As "we" were talking about why I was coming in, she advised us to go to the ER since we don't have ultrasound capabilities on the weekends. (Which, of course, I know...)

Frankly, I was surprised. I didn't think my pain warranted an ultrasound, much less an ER visit...it wasn't as intense as it was long-lasting. Still, we decided that it was better to figure out what was going on, and we might as well be thorough...so off to the hospital we went.

I--with the help of my trusty translator--again went over all the details of my complaints with about four different nurses and assorted medical staff. We were promptly shown to a room where I was elegantly gowned in a revealing cotton robe and asked to rate my pain on a level of 1-10. I told the nurse that most of the time I was hovering between 5-6, but if I moved suddenly or coughed it would spike up to about 8. (Looking back, I'm reminded of the Brian Regan skit "Did you get some 8?") Apparently they don't use the bell curve system with pain rating--they just take your highest score. Makes me wish all my college classes did the same...

So after they finished writing my responses down on about 40 sheets of carbon copy, I peed in a cup, got an IV and some blood work, and then came the "joy juice." I was given a heady cocktail of Zofran and Morphine. To be perfectly honest, I can't recall what happened with much clarity for the rest of the day. I know I received an ultrasound (which really hurt!), a CT scan (the techs were laughing--I just hope it wasn't at me), a pelvic exam (why wasn't that done first??), a couple more boosters of morphine (yay!) in there somewhere...and a rather undignified shot in my butt (boo!). I can honestly say that's one place I've never had a band-aid before. And apparently there was something about "puddin pops" but you'll have to ask Patrick for more details on that score...

I won't go into a lot of detail, but as it turns out, I have an infection that was caused by my Mirena birth control. Not fun. So I traded it for some antibiotics and percocet. I feel much better already and I hope that this will soon be just a rather expensive blip on the radar...but for all the stuff that happened that day, my only coherent thought as I fell into a drug induced slumber that evening was: "Dang it. I didn't even get to work on my sock because of the stupid pulse monitor strapped to my finger...well that was five hours wasted..."

[Please note: there are no pictures to accompany this post because my husband is a very sweet human being who also knows that I would kill him if he took 'sick pictures' of me.]

The Promised Pics

2011-10-25T20:57:00.000-07:00

I told you all I'd be triumphant! Here are some pictures of my new house and puppy. (I didn't take pictures of my whole house because some of the rooms are pretty messy right now. Plus, I didn't feel like cleaning/organizing anymore today after I'd gotten the public rooms sorted out.)

The Front Room

I feel so happy every time I walk through that door and see this space. No particular reason I can think of. Maybe it's the lovely big picture window or the comfy, new (and totally paid for--woot!) couch. Or maybe it's just the heady delights of ownership still buzzing in my veins. Either way, I'll take it for as long as it's there!

The (Someday) Dining Area

Brandi claimed that space under the desk within two minutes of being home. I have to be careful not to leave towels or scarves on the floor or she'll drag them under there and build a nest--and then I'll have to lint roller everything. But sometimes I let her because it's funny to watch a pint size dog wrestle with a towel...

By the way, the green fabric tacked over the window is NOT my idea of a window covering and will eventually be replaced with something a bit more to my taste; however, our neighbors on that side have a dog that goes berserk and yaps incessantly anytime it sees us...so necessity is the mother of invention!

The Kitchen (Which I Luuurve!)

After looking at some really scary fixer-upper type money pits, I thought we'd stepped into heaven when we saw the kitchen and bathroom here. Who else here is a fan of new plumbing/wiring, new appliances, travertine tile, granite counter tops, and hardwood cabinets? Raise your hand! (Okay, okay, I know that was kind of bragging and childish, but I hope you'll forgive me anyway.)

And just to toot my own horn for a second: I made those curtains--without a pattern, I might add. Just kind of winging it...which is not something I generally do with fabric. I'm usually much more comfortable following step by step instructions. So I would like to give kudos to my awesome sister for not only validating my fabric choice, but for double checking my math and making sure I had everything I needed to get the look I wanted. She's got some serious kung fu when it comes to sewing.

And last, but not least: Brandi!

It's very tricky for me to get a full body shot of her because once I stand up she's usually right behind me wherever I'm going. The bottom two pictures are what I usually see of her. I snapped the last one when she came to snuggle me while I was reading tonight. Usually she burrows under the blanket...Patrick and I now poke blankets, towels, sheets, etc. at random before sitting on them or picking them up suddenly. I'm actually surprised that the dog hasn't been deflated by my darling husband's bony behind yet...or suffocated by mine! She's a total sweetheart even if she is constantly underfoot, and I'm so glad she's a part of our lives. I've missed having a pet!

Well, there you have it. A few snapshots into our daily life. (At least the tidy parts of it!) We're having a family Halloween party soon though, so I hope to have the whole house clean before then--and I'll be sure to get photographic proof!

Too Much to Say... How to Start?

2011-10-24T17:34:00.000-07:00

For the past three days I have been receiving several reminders that I have not blogged in a heinously long time. Shocker. (A shout out to my tormentors: Chrissy, Tiff, and even Patrick...traitor.)

Although, I admit that I am enjoying the idea of seeing everyone's jaws drop in disbelief when the news somehow gets around that I've posted again. In a strange way, I almost feel like blogging equivalent of that "one girl" we all knew in high school... "Oh. My. Gosh. Do you remember that girl, Caite? Did you hear that she actually blogged again?!" Anyway, enough of my twisted musings and down to business.

During my absence from cyber-land many large changes have taken place in my life:

1) Patrick and I bought our first house. An adorable 1920s bungalow in Ogden that has been newly remodeled. We've only been here for two months and yes, there are still some scattered cardboard boxes looking for a permanent spot; but it's beginning to sink in that this is all mine now--I'm not just playing house! (Yeah, funny how bills never really entered into our childhood fantasies, huh? :D)

2) We got our first pet--a Min-Pin named Brandi that we rescued from a shelter. She's a very sweet, mellow dog who just loves to be petted and snuggled. Patrick's a bit disappointed that she's not into playing fetch, but I'm loving having a furry friend/shadow.

3) I began my final year of school. (My goal is to just make it to April. If I can do that without going crazy it'll be one of the biggest accomplishments of my life!)

4) Patrick's car died, and trying to figure out the logistics of transporting two working adults around different ends of the Wasatch Valley has become my waking nightmare. Especially since one of these adults (cough Patrick cough cough) seems to be allergic to public transportation.

All in all, it's been pretty busy in my little corner of the world.

Now, I know I have had several requests for pictures of my new home and my cute dog. Sadly after much late-night arguing with, pleading, and threatening of my phone, SD camera card, and computer: I have had no luck loading said pictures. Never fear though. I will triumph...just not today.

(I am sure that it has something to do with user error. I took a test on the technical components of various digital imaging technologies last night and did much worse than I expected. I'm afraid my foul mood and disappointment from last night leeched into today: I've been disgustingly lazy and unmotivated to try the whole picture thing again. My apologies.)

Well, I know it's kind of a short post for how much has happened. But I promise there will be more--I'll get caught up sooner or later!

Right Now I'm Thinking...

2011-05-02T17:39:00.000-07:00

That I don't blog as often or well as my sister. In fact I usually only change my background if I see she's changed hers for the month...hmm...mimicry is the highest form of flattery, right?

The people who say you should drink 64 fl. oz. of water a day had a little something slipped into their water in the '60s. I swear it can't be done!

Committing to stick to a diet plan has altered my perspective of my fellow man in unexpected ways...For example, those sweet co-workers who thoughtfully brought homemade chocolate chip cookies to share, suddenly have become unwitting henchmen of the evil gastrointestinal terrorist organization known as "the munchies;" intent on inflicting cruel and unusual punishment on poor sugar-deprived souls like myself.

My knee should not be as sore as it is right now. I'm way to young for this constant ache I've had all day.

There's a pile of laundry I don't want to fold lying in wait for me at home.

I miss chocolate...

Stop thinking about chocolate!!

Perhaps if I'm forced to deal with the laundry I can commandeer the bedroom TV from my husband. And maybe, just because I'm feeling slightly mischievous, I'll put on DWTS to bug him.

It's time for the workday to be done. I got up early and have a long drive home. Let's not have any last minute sniffles today, people!

Still missing the chocolate...

I'm so excited!! (And I just can't hide it!!)

2011-04-14T17:57:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow morning I am going to get on a plane with my husband and we are escaping across state lines into a magical state of relaxation:

We are going to see my brother and his awesome family.

We are going to stay up late and sleep in even later.

We are going to explore, and sight-see, and eat all the junk food and gourmet meals we can.

We are going to greet each morning without the pall of responsibility hanging over our euphoria.

We are going to have an absolute blast!

And then, when we have done all these things, we are going to come home wreathed in exhausted smiles, satisfied that we were as frivolous and carefree as it is possible for two human beings to be.

I love vacation days!

Embracing the "Inner Dork"

2011-03-26T09:29:00.000-07:00

Yesterday while I was at work I got a phone call from my husband. It went something like this:

Me: Hello?

Patch: Hi Sweetie, how's it going?

Fine. It's been pretty mellow. What's up?

I got a call from the bank this morning. There's something going on with one of the transactions and they need to talk to the account holder.

Well, your name's on the account. So did you talk to them? Is everything ok?

....Uh, no...I was calling to see if you could do it since I'm at work and all.

(Pause)

So you called me at my work?...You just don't want to talk to them, do you, you pansy?

Well, you said your work was really slow. So you probably have more time than I do. Can you just call them please?

You do realize if you'd stayed on the line with them it would probably be worked out by now, rather than taking the time to call me?

(Pause)

Fine. I'll call them. Did they give you a name or number that I need to contact?

You can just call the number on the back of the card, that'll get you to someone--and they can probably look it up.

Did they say what they're looking for? Which transaction got flagged or anything?

Uh no, I told them you could call them later today and they said they'd discuss it with you then.

(Sigh) Fine. Well I'll see you when I get home tonight. See you.

See you. I love you, sweetie.

Yeah, you'd better, pansy. Love you too. Bye.

A couple of minutes and some funky "hold please" music later I was transferred to a card services supervisor named Roger. Now I don't know if it was something I ate, or if I was in a really weird mood--because I'm generally not like this on the phone: (Especially a business call.)

Roger: Hello, Mrs. States? My name is Roger.

Me: Hey, Roger. I'm Caite.

What can I help you with today, ma'am?

Well, Roger, my husband called earlier and said there was something funny going on with one of the transactions in our account and that I needed to call you. He didn't give me a lot to go on, so I was hoping you could tell me.

Certainly, ma'am. (Typing noises) Uh, it looks like there was some suspicious activity on your card last night. Are you aware of...it looks like nine...consecutive charges to amazon.com of a dollar each?

Ohhh...yeah. That's not suspicious, that's just me being stupid.

(Surprised pause from Roger.)

Have you heard of a show called "Castle" Roger?

(Silence on the other end.)

Well, it's really good. I think you'd like it. Anyway--the first season is not available on DVD anywhere in the greater Wasatch area. But it is available on amazon. I just didn't realize you could buy the season all at once instead of one episode at at time. Thank goodness there's only ten episodes in the first season, huh?

(A hastily concealed cough-that-would-be-laugh and more silence.)

Don't worry though, I figured it out by the time I got to the second season. There's just one charge there instead of twenty.

(Silence that is trying really hard to keep its cool...)

So...is that all?

Uh, well...yes ma'am. I think that clears it right up and I'll just take care of that for you. Is there anything else I can help you with today?

Nope. I think I'm good. I'm just gonna get back to work now. So...you guys have a good day and stuff!

Thank you. If you need anything else just give a call. You have a good day ma'am.

Sure thing, Roger. Bye!

At this point I have to give props to Roger wherever he is. I could totally tell he was trying not to snort or giggle. (Actually, I suppose chuckle would be a better word...I've found that--as a rule--men don't giggle.) And, he did a pretty good job of concealing it and speed talking to get off the phone as fast as possible so he could turn to whoever was beside him and say, "Dude, that woman was crazy!"

I also send out a karmic apology and warm fuzzy feelings to anyone involved with Castle. It really is an awesome show and I hope I didn't turn off a potential viewer simply because my Inner Dork chose that moment to rear it's nerdy head...

Yay for slow work days!

2011-03-12T14:01:00.001-08:00

The weekend shift at the clinic is usually pretty dead. Normally, this would mean twelve hours of mind-numbing boredom for me, but not today. Today I was able to finish my first sock. (Pause for a moment of chest-swelling pride...)

And here it is! It's not perfect, but it's pretty good for a first attempt, I feel.

Now What??

2011-03-11T18:09:00.000-08:00

Earlier tonight I went to Arctic Circle with Chrissy and her kids. While we were eating Jake announced he wanted to play a game and this is what he came up with:

I can't decide if he reminds me more of Sheldon or MacGyver...maybe a strange hybrid of both...

Hi, Mom!

2011-03-11T12:10:00.001-08:00

Look what I found when I came home fom work today...Spring is officially here!

Ideas, anyone?

2011-03-10T18:51:00.001-08:00

One of my very best friends, Stephanie, is in the MTC. She's leaving to serve a mission in the Baltic states soon and her birthday is coming up in a few weeks. I want to send her a care package, but I've never really shipped anything like that and I don't know what I should or shouldn't include.

I've been thinking I'll send her a mini pedicure kit since she'll be on her feet quite a bit, but I'd like some more ideas...

If you have any thoughts on the matter please share them with me!

Being the duck...

2011-02-24T09:48:00.001-08:00

Today has not been my day. Yesterday wasn't either.

I feel really frustrated with some of the stuff going on at work; and discontented with the allotment of time I have for home and family...

But then, who doesn't have those days? So today I am trying to remember the wisdom passed down from my mother and grandma who taught me two great lessons:

1) Frustration is nothing more than the immature inability to cope.
2) Be like the duck in a pond and let the anger and hurt just roll right off your back like water.

And while it might be easier said than done, I think it's still advice worth following. So wish me luck--and I'll do my best to keep smiling!

An Ode to Love

2011-02-14T07:41:00.001-08:00

Roses are red
Violets are blue
I'm not a poet...
And neither are you!

Still, I love how we match in so many ways...
And the fact we still have an eternity of days.

I love you, Patrick; more than I know how to say! And I know that even though we will struggle at times making ends meet, or getting along with each other-- I'm never afraid of struggling alone. I can look over and see my best friend right next to me.

If I've ever been excited to work at anything, it's the chance to keep building my relationship with you!

Happy Valentine's Day, love!

Vehicularly Challenged

2011-01-29T11:50:00.000-08:00

I know it's been ages since my last post, but I've been kind of inspired by my sister's good example to make another attempt at staying up to date with my blog. (And by up to date, I mean more current than every 3-4 months.)As most of you know, she's being super awesome and posting at least once a day--which is something I genuinely admire.

However, coming back to the title of this post, I thought the world should know that they can add "vehicularly" to the ever-growing list of my "challenges." (The current list includes: vertically, technologically, and punctually. If you think there are any I may have missed you may submit them via email.)

As you may not know, January has been something of a car-centered month for us. It's time to re-register Patrick's Passat, which means that a whole gamut of minor repairs are due before inspection. And since he was already fixing his own car he kindly looked mine over as well. Which is a good thing, since I'm the kind of person who will tie my bumper back on with yarn (which is still holding up after nearly 4 months of winter weather by the way)before I remember to get it fixed. Anyway, he changed my break pads and checked my tires and a whole bunch of other things that I have to admit I wasn't really paying attention to when he told me.

Unfortunately, the real danger was lurking out of sight just lying in wait for the opportune moment...which, apparently, Fate decided would be this morning on my way to work.

Not to put too fine a point on it, but, my engine block caught fire when I "threw a rod" just past the Farmington exit on I-15. (I'm not quite sure what that means: threw a rod; but every man present who came to my rescue was certain that that's what happened. I assume that it's code known only to those in possession of a y chromosome and I bow to their greater wisdom concerning all things automotive.)

Luckily a gentleman driving behind me had noticed my distress and called highway patrol car to come help. The officer was very kind, and calmy used her fire extinguisher on my blackened engine. She also stayed until we were able to get hold of a tow truck. And, better still, Patrick was there about a minute after I pulled over.

At first I was mostly freaked out because I was afraid it was something I had done while driving, but Patrick assured me that it was just one of those things and I wasn't to blame. I thought it was very sweet of him to be so concerned about my feelings even though I could tell he was worried about what we're going to do now that my Toyota decided to literally go down in a blaze of glory... He had me go sit in his car where it was warm while he sorted out the tow truck and all the helpful onlookers waiting to offer an opinion as to what had gone wrong.

Now, I usually snort and roll my eyes when I read stories about damsels in distress--the silly creatures should stop whining and do something useful, I think to myself--but, let me tell you, there is something enormously comforting about being rescued from a situation where you know you're out of your element by a caring man who tells you he loves you--even as you're adding to his stress level.

Happily enough, everything's been sorted out. Dad drove me to work (and I wasn't even all that late). Patrick supervised the arrangements for the car; and I'm going to take the train and a bus home today. Sadly we'll have to dig into our savings in order to replace the car. Patrick says it's possible to fix it, but both of us agree that it's not worth the headache and it will be better for us in the long run to just replace it. So, we'll probably have to postpone buying a home for another couple of months, which is a bummer, but not terrible. I keep telling myself to look on the bright side: at least we had some savings ready, and--best of all--I'm not on fire.

Aren’t kids awesome?

2010-08-30T20:10:00.000-07:00

Today at work I did a foot x-ray on a woman who had injured herself while chasing her toddler down the stairs. She had the look of someone who hasn’t gotten much sleep, and was very self conscious about having me touch her feet during the exam—apologizing in advance for any dirt or odor. I told her not to worry about it and did my best to put her at her ease in a manner á la Dad: telling her all my best stinky feet stories and jokes. (I even got her to crack a smile as I walked her back to her room.)

As I opened the door to exam room 2, I saw the aforementioned toddler and an older boy of eight busily tugging on the paper that covers the padded examination table—happily creating a tangled heap of the crackly paper—almost as if it were a giant roll of toilet paper. The eight year old had the sense to quickly drop his end of the paper and point to the toddler saying, “Mom, can you believe what Ashton did?! I was trying to stop him when you came in.” The woman flushed and attempted to apologize while executing a rather unsuccessful swoop towards the offending heap of paper.

I bit my cheek to keep from laughing and plucked the squealing toddler (who was now waist deep in paper) out of the mess and handed him to his mother after guiding her to a seat. I gave her a wink and said, “Don’t worry. Kids happen.” The eight year old, who I discovered was named Jeremy, helped me gather the paper into a big wad while wearing an expression calculated to impress me with saint-like longsuffering for the ruckus his brother had caused. Ashton didn’t seem to mind taking the blame as long as we kept on making all those delightful scrunching noises…His mother just sighed and rolled her eyes as the suddenly virtuous Jeremy quietly took a seat next to her.

I left the room and stuffed the enormous wad into the break room garbage can and went back to my cubby to finish her paperwork. (And I mean cubby…it’s a converted supply closet. The fact that it is now door-less is meant to make those of us who use it less claustrophobic.) Twenty minutes went by and I had briefly forgotten about the woman and her mischievous boys, until I heard the soft thump that is the tell-tale sign of an ankle boot or cast.

Sure enough, the exhausted mother was slowly thumping her way down the hall in the thick black plastic boot while trying to maintain a firm hold on the curious toddler. Meanwhile, Jeremy trudged alongside her, wearing the sullen pout of a child who has just received a “talking to.” I couldn’t help listening to their conversation as they passed my cubby. Jeremy was anxious to know all about his mom’s new shoe, while still trying to appear aloof…

“Mom, do you really have to wear that thing all the time?”

Sigh. “Yes, sweetie.”

“Well, for how long?”

“A month. But we’ll come back to the doctor’s in a few weeks to see how my foot is doing.”

“A whole month?!” The indifferent tone of voice slipped a bit on that last remark, and there was a moment of awed silence as Jeremy contemplated such a vast ocean of time…then, “But mom, that means you’ll have this huge ugly foot for a long time!”

She stopped walking for a moment to look at her son and say, “I know, Jer. Thanks for pointing it out.”

This break in movement lasted long enough for the toddler to smack his half-sucked DumDum against her boot experimentally—no doubt testing the sound quality of a potential new drum. Apparently it met with his approval because he beamed a two-tooth smile that leaked a wave a drool down his chin and into the cracks of her boot, and said, “Have it, mama?” She glanced down at the sticky plastic encasing her leg and then at the sweet baby smiling up at her.

I was waiting to see if she suddenly snapped into tears or rage, but all she did was regain her grasp on the baby, take hold of Jeremy’s hand, sigh and say, “Yes. Mommy’s had it. And when we get home, it’s daddy’s turn.”

I watched her thump her way down the hall to the parking lot with as much dignity as a bedraggled woman toting two kids while wearing a squelchy ankle brace can muster.I can only hope that it was a short drive home…

And I really hope there was a nap waiting for her when she got there.

Testing...testing...123?

2010-02-23T12:16:00.000-08:00

Well, I've been mildly chastised again for not updating my blog often enough. (What is it with you people? Is my life really so fascinating?...Just kidding!) So I thought I would appease the masses (meaning all four of you who read this) with another thrilling adventure....Okay, so when I say thrilling, I mean something more along the lines of "hectic," but that's just nitpicking, isn't it?

It's been a crazy couple of weeks for us in the Madsen/States home. As many of you know, we've had birthdays galore this month; Chrissy, Brian, Dad...and that's kept us running around for a bit. :) But it's also been an eventful month for me at school. I'm in the process of studying to take an exam for my state limited license--which would allow me to start earning money in this fabulous field. (So exciting!)

I've been going a little crazy stressing out over whether or not I'm over-preparing for this thing. And in the midst of all my angst I've also had several other tests in my regular coursework. (Can you say frazzled?) However, to toot my own horn here, I have gotten some awesome scores even through the stress. I earned straight 100s on both my sectional anatomy and radiographic positioning exams. And I even got a 92 on my physics exam!! (It must be that extra sleep I'm trying work in...I've been trying really hard to do the whole "healthy living" thing.) In fact, I'm so jazzed about this last test, that I thought I would take a picture to show you just how awesome I did:

Cue shocked screams and crazy faces:

SURPRISE! (It sure was one for us!!) Patrick has been very sweet about trying to keep me calm between bouts of panic...I didn't really plan for this on my timeline, what with school and all. But he's so excited to be a daddy, that it's just contagious! After I spend time around him I find I have a strong urge to start making baby booties and such! I'm not very far along, about 4 weeks we think; but I'm already under lots of monitoring at my school and clinical site since I work around radiation. (Don't worry, I'm...well, I suppose I should say "we" are being kept VERY safe!)

I'm still trying to wrap my head around becoming a mother, and I find myself thinking of my mom a lot. I really would have liked to have her here; but she was always saying "find joy in the journey!" And I've made a promise to myself to enjoy these next months and years as much as I possibly can. Besides, what could be better than carrying a little "bundle of joy" around with you all the time to remind you, right?!

Love you all!

Ahh, Valentines....

2010-02-06T19:22:00.000-08:00

This is my first time experimenting with music on my blog, so everybody wish me luck...(P.S. I have tried and tried to fix the sideways pics in the slideshow, but it's not working. Guess you're just gonna have to turn your head...or leave me advice on how to fix it!)

Something rare and wonderful happened today in my marriage. You know how you develop a routine as a couple? (i.e.: Coming home from work you know the first thing your guy does is drop his stinky shoes and socks in front of the couch before he stretches out. And he knows that you'll always be five minutes late for church or a date because your still putting on your mascara and brushing your teeth. Stuff like that...)And, accordingly you begin to adjust your plans around that routine. Well, one of Patch and my routines when grocery shopping is to stop by the Redbox machine. It usually goes something like this:

Me: "Oh crap. I forgot to grab the deodorant. Will you run and grab it while I get in line?"

Patrick: "Why?"

Me: "Because you have longer legs and can walk faster."

Patrick: [Smiles and rolls his eyes.] "Fine. I'm going to look at Redbox on the way out."

Me: "That's fine. Thanks, love."

After we finish checking out, I stand behind him as he browses through the selection and picks something with suitable testosterone levels like Gran Torino or Zombieland. I don't mind. I'm usually studying somewhere else while he and dad watch it.

But today I had finished most of my homework at the theatre--it was the slowest day ever. I only had one sale--and I wanted to hang out and relax when I got home. So I asked if he would mind if I picked a movie this time (and yes, it would definitely be girly). Now, get this folks, he smiled, stepped aside and "sure."

Okay, okay, so I know that's probably not a moment you'd associate with trumpets and an angelic chorus, but for me, it kind of was. It's those little moments of unselfish giving and flexibility that remind me why I fell in love. He didn't have to say that; after all, he'd had a really long day too. But he did. He even watched the movie with me, and he didn't mock it once!

And that's why my hubby is the winner of the "Best Ever Valentine" award. Love you, sweets.

The #1 Rule on this Ship is...

2010-01-19T19:09:00.000-08:00

Today I saw the funniest thing ever! But before I tell you, I will have to explain why it was so hilarious. (Now, for those of you who've already heard this story, I'm sure you'll enjoy laughing at my pain again...)

A while back I was visiting my sister Chrissy for the afternoon; and, as per usual, we ended up downstairs in the sewing room. We were talking, and crafting, and the kids were in the background playing. Well, at one point we moved into the laundry room so Chrissy could switch over a batch a flannel destined to become pajama pants--and we passed Evie, who happened to be playing with her doctor kit. She was talking a mile-a-minute (again, as per usual) and desperately trying to get our attention. Unfortunately for me, we sort of tuned her out and continued our conversation with mumbled "mm-hmm's" and "sure, sweetie's" when she managed to get a word in edgewise. Little did I know how soon I would regret my nonchalant behavior toward this determined toddler...

(I would like to add a disclaimer at this point: That, while I'm still not entirely certain how the following events unfolded, I am sure that my account captures the gist of the exchange.)

Apparently, as I was engrossed in my conversation, Evie informed me that "she was the doctor and I was the patient." To which I said, "mm-hmm."

She then told me, "You should say: Okay, Doctor. Okay, patient?...Okay?...Say: Okay Doctor....Patient?...You say: Okay Doctor..." This broken record routine continued until I gave a suitable response. And then, this is where I get hazy on the details, she must have said something to the effect of, "I'm going to take your temperature, okay?" And, like and idiot, I said, "Mmm-hmm. Okay Doctor."

This next part I remember very vividly, as suddenly I felt a stabbing point of pain between my buttocks. This little three-year-old girl had jammed a plastic toy thermometer between my legs with enough force to leave a dent in my rear! (At this point, I seriously questioned my sister's choice of thermometers, if this is how her toddler learned to take someone's temperature! However, when I checked, she had a regular oral thermometer...and I was just the wounded victim of an infantile approach to medecine. I couldn't sit comfortably for the next two days!)

Well, needless to say, we had a serious talk about appropriate ways to take somebody's temperature and why we shouldn't probe them without warning. Apparently that message stuck because the next time I saw her, we ended up playing spaceship--she, of course, was the captain--and she loudly announced that the number one rule on the ship was: no probing. (I still end up doubled over with laughter whenever she brings it up! It's become our inside joke.)

So, back to today: I was watching the newest episode of Bones, one of my favorite TV shows, and it was set down in Roswell, New Mexico--tying in with the whole alien abduction thing--and the closing lines are:

"No probing! I know how you people like to probe!"

I kid you not when I say that, I--who have never been pregnant, nor had bladder issues--literally wet myself a little as I laughed myself off a chair! Oh, Evie! It made me think of you!

Drive-By Shootings

2010-01-14T16:32:00.000-08:00

I love old people. More to the point, I love old patients...the sweet, doddering kind who have a perpetually vacant smile and nod a lot.

Today I was doing a shoulder exam on a sweet little old lady with hair like a frosted cupcake and skin like vintage linen. As I was putting the cassette into the bucky, I asked her why we were doing the exam; to which she replied, "That young man hurt my arm at the drive-by shooting." I did a double take to make sure I hadn't somehow missed copious amounts of blood or bandaging...nope, nothing there...

Feeling a little more than confused, I continued to position her and asked her where this had happened and if anybody had been seriously hurt. She just smiled her dazed little smile and said,"Oh, it was probably just me. He stuck the needle in pretty far." After some more convoluted conversation I finally worked out what she meant.

The American Red Cross had a trailer in a parking lot down the street sponsoring a "Drive-Thru the Flu" event. You could pull up in your car and they would give you your flu shot through the window. Well, the guy who gave her the shot didn't factor in her lack of muscle and accidentally struck her bone--making her arm really sore.

It was so funny, I couldn't help giggling a little! Luckily though, I got under control enough to finish her exam. Sometimes I think it would be fun to work in a geriatric ward...I imagine it would be a lot like that show Kids Say the Darndest Things. Except these kids would have walkers and bedpans...

Pride Goeth Before a Fall...

2010-01-12T20:56:00.000-08:00

Okay, for those of you who don't know, my man Patrick finally got a job about two months ago working for a cable contractor. We were so excited to finally get a break! (And I was so excited when he got tired of quoting Jim Carrey's Cable Guy after about the second week.) However, we were in uncharted waters as we slowly discovered what his job really entailed. It's been kind of a steep learning curve for us at times. (And when I say "us," I mean "him"...most of the time.)

For my part, I never really pictured cable guys as the Steve Irwin of installers...I thought they were more along the lines of Jacques Cousteau. Y'know, difficult to understand and rather bland on the people skills scale. Turns out I was wrong. It's a good thing Patch is part spider monkey, because this job has him climbing up phone poles and contorting into all kinds of odd positions, just for the sake of the almighty HD channel. And this last week, he became very familiar with the phrase "had to learn the hard way."

I was almost finished at the clinic when I got an unexpected phone call from him. Before I even finished saying "hello" I hear: "Caite, I got in an accident." Then before I can form the question he added a rushed, "But I'm okay. Don't worry." (Has that phrase ever had the intended effect in all of history?...Don't worry, Mrs. Smith, it's only a minor contusion. You'll be back to rights in no time...Nope. I don't think so.)

Well, since I knew he was healthy enough to call me, I let my panic slip into worry for his equipment the company loaned him. We don't have the money to replace anything. And once that concern was addressed, my brain could finally focus on the story of what exactly happened...

The long and short of it was that he was preparing to connect a wire to a customer's roof. He had his ladder balanced on the icy alley between the fence and the house, and was standing on the top rung when he suddenly sneezed; and that little convulsion was enough to shake the ladder from it's spot--sending him tumbling down into the 3 foot wide space. Somehow, to our very great fortune and luck, he managed to land in a little snow drift...after tearing his pants from ankle to crotch and nearly impaling his leg on a fence post.

The Pants

The Thermals

The nasty bruise/welt on the upper thigh.

I guess the truly lucky part is that--apart from his sudden tenderness, and ability to change color--he didn't even come home limping. You wouldn't even know he was hurt to look at him! (Just ticked off.) So, may I say thanks to any and all of you who pray for us: it's working!

Happy Surprises

2010-01-05T11:54:00.000-08:00

Today was my first day back in class after winter break. I woke up in a panic at 3:00 am after having a nightmare in which my clinical instructor asked me to do an L-Spine exam on a patient and I went, "L-Spine? What's that? Do I have one? What do I do with it?!"

I struggled to go back to sleep and woke up again at five to find myself chanting: "L-spine. Lumbar spine. Lower back. Got it. PIP Joint. Proximal Interphalangeal Joint. Middle knuckle. Got it. MLO. Medial Lateral Oblique projection. Angled from middle to side. Got it...."

Anywho, after finally waking up for good at six and getting ready, I ended up being about 20 minutes early for class. Which turned out to be okay as I, and a few other equally paranoid individuals, helped each other de-stress before class began.

Luckily I found I was able to get back into the rhythm of the lessons with relative ease. And it helped to sooth my ragged academic confidence when my hand kept rising of its own accord during review sessions. (Apparently all my previous knowledge of anatomy, etc. is stored in my right index finger. Not unlike Fozzi's Mr. Bimbo from Muppet Treasure Island. He seems to know even if my brain is still processing the question.) It was a very happy surprise.

And happier still: when I checked my phone after class, I found a very sweet message from my wonderful husband wishing my luck and boosting my confidence from afar. I felt like the warm bubble in my chest could power the "high voltage circuitry, three phase rectifier" that had zapped my brain in physics. (You made my day, sweetie!)

And joy upon joy, when I finally plunked my bag down in the hall and picked up the mail, what should I find but two cards with my name on them, and not a bill in sight! One wished Patch and I a happy anniversary. (It's two years for us now!) And the other was from the University congratulating me on making the honor roll last semester. (Which was news to me!) Happy day, indeed!

So, before I go to tackle my homework, I wish all of you a happy surprise to put some sunshine in your day.

Blog Nazis and New Year's Resolutions

2010-01-04T14:12:00.000-08:00

Before I begin, I would like to send a warm karmic hello out into the universe on this fine January day, and wish you all a very happy New Year. I would also like to dedicate this post to my sister, the blog nazi, who threatened me at the point of a knitting needle...love you, Chris!

Well, as I'm sure we are all aware, New Year's has come once more and the siren call of a pristine and unsullied future beckons... a dream which lasts for about five minutes before Reality drags you back to the daily grind, kicking and screaming. In all honesty folks, I've never felt New Year's to be a particularly joyful holiday. For me, it has always had more of the tone of a starting pistol at race--or an unwelcome alarm clock intruding on a pleasant dream--they both seem to shout at you, saying,"Go now! Start changing! Are you a better person yet? Well, are you?!" It makes me tired.

Therefore, I have figuratively stuck it to Father Time by pressing my metaphorical snooze button. I have resolved to take my own sweet time in becoming a better human being. Not to say I won't try, but rather that I refuse to be bullied into it all at once. And anyway, in what universe is it practical to change so suddenly?

For example, this morning I was standing in line at the bank inside Dick's Market place, waiting to cash my check. Ahead of me were two suburbanistas (my new word for the particular breed of "super Mom" that inhabits the greater area of the Wasatch Front--I think it's quite catchy, don't you?) who were busy chatting away the tedium of the wait. As I listened quietly behind them their talk turned to their New Year's goals.

One woman was complaining that ever since she decided to take control of her family's finances her life seemed to be falling apart at the seams. Apparently this lady--who, to judge by her conversation, has never used a computer except for checking email and shopping online--went out first thing after the holidays and bought some fancy new software that claimed it could organize your entire financial portfolio in a matter of minutes with minimal effort on your part. However, even after overcoming her "technical difficulties," it apparently lacks the magical power to make you physically stop spending. After two days of rigid documentation, this woman was in such despair over knowing, in precise detail, how dismal her shopping habits were, that she revoked her resolution because she "just couldn't handle it." Isn't that just sad?

So I repeat, I refuse to make life altering decisions at the drop of a hat--or ball, as it were--simply because it is tradition. I have made no new budgets, I do not plan on trying an exercise regimen I know to be out of my league simply because I want to look nice for swimsuit season, and I have no intention of giving up chocolate or white cheddar cheetos in favor of steamed broccoli and "light" yogurt.

I have decided to look for at least one nice thing in everybody who bugs me and comment on it. I have decided to be more prudent in managing my study time. And I have decided to smile at my reflection first thing every morning--no matter how pasty white and puffy-eyed it is. And I believe that I as tackle three small goals, one day at a time, I might learn to take on more. If I do, I let you know. Heck, I might even blog regularly... :)

Happy New Year's everybody.

A pox on Murphy and his stupid laws!

2009-09-12T15:39:00.000-07:00

For any of you who have been wondering why I haven't written for a while it is because my life decided to book a first class ticket on the Stress Express.
I have two tests that I have to take by tomorrow. I just barely met my press deadline for the theatre and today I got stuck on the world's dumbest phone call with a man who couldn't decide whether he wanted the right aisle or the left aisle on the front row. And the whole time I'm just itching to scream,"It's a difference of three feet you moron! Your still going to be able to watch your kid stand and pick their nose from either side!" Grrrr....

Well you know what I say, Murphy, ol' pal? Suck it! You just watch, I'll get my tests done and I'll totally pass them, and then I'll get a job in a clinic where I will never get stuck on pointless half hour phone calls because I'll be too busy being awesome! So there!

Somtimes it's like a scene from "The Miracle Worker" around here...

2009-08-29T19:13:00.001-07:00

So today has been kind of a "ho-hum" one for the States/Madsen household. I went to work. Dad and Patrick fixed Patrick's car. (Again.) And when I came home I went straight into study mode for a couple of hours...but after I repeated my homework playlist for the third time in a row I decided I was ready for a brain break.

Just as I was closing my books, Patrick came in to see how I was doing. (He's sweet like that.) As I followed him out of our room, I went to the kitchen to get a drink and he went back to the couch to restart his movie. I was just about to take a sip when he pressed play.

I thought I'd been transported back to WWII London, to stand around in the middle of the Blitz!(Turns out it was just another explosion from a James Bond escapade--that man has more lives than six cats...)

As I stood in a small puddle--which had thankfully missed my not-so-ample-bosom, but not my toes--I looked at my father and husband who were totally at ease in the midst of that cochlear onslaught and cursed the fact that I will either have to convince them to get hearing aids or resign myself to learning sign language...

My First Day of Clinical Education

2009-08-26T17:29:00.000-07:00

Well, today was my first of a long run of clinical ed days. Luckily for me, it wasn't quite a "trial by fire." There was just enough to do without being so busy that I couldn't absorb what I was doing.

I got to sit in on three chest exams, four Os Calcis (heels), one bilateral rib, two L-Spines (lower back), and one "waters" (this is where they check the skull--eyes, specifically--for metal fragments before conducting an MRI). I pulled files--so confusing!--and got to develop the film. For the record, they aren't kidding when they say "Dark Room." I definitely need to eat more carrots because my eyes were hardly adjusted even after five minutes in there.

Everyone I've met is really nice and helpful...they were even cool about the fact that I forgot to push the button to activate the developer and consequently ruined one of the chest films. Well, there's one mistake I won't ever make again!

Needless to say, I came home feeling utterly pooped...but in a satisfactory look-how-active-I-was-today kind of way. :) I'm really looking forward to working in that environment.

But for now, I must leave you all so that I can go study physics, and patient care and assessment. I love you all. Thanks for all your encouragement and well-wishes: they must be working, because I go to bed happy every night!

In Honor of My Brother

2009-08-24T10:47:00.000-07:00

It's been kind of strange these past few months with Josh and Elena across the country. Even though they are "on to bigger and better adventures" and we can talk with them over webcams, etc., it's been somewhat lackluster around here without their vibrant personalities. This past weekend, Patch and I went on a camping/fishing trip with my in-laws up at Mirror Lake in the Uintahs--which, lately has been something we would usually do with my brother and his wife--and their oodles of camping equipment.

As this was Patrick's family's first time camping all together, we hit a few bumps and snags when it came to communication about provisions. (With so many people, it's hard to remember who's supposed to bring what!) But, all in all, everyone did really well and had a lot of fun.

The weather was beautiful and the fishing was pretty good. (We all had fresh trout for dinner on Saturday night...yummy.) We even slept ok, considering how tightly packed we all were. :) The whole thing was peaceful for my part...I was able to get a lot of studying done among the beauties of nature.

And then, suddenly, in the wee hours of the morning on Sunday, I woke to a sound that brought a smile to my lips. In the misty gray dawn of the mountains: it was raining.

For the past two years, there hasn'tbeen a single camp trip where I or my family hasn't gotten rained on. Even in southern Utah, surrounded by desert and red rock, we brought a freak storm with us. I've forgotten what it feels like to simply pack up a tent without worrying about damp or mold. Josh used to say it was his private curse--as though the heavens didn't want him to enjoy the time outdoors with his family. We all smiled and shook our heads at the time. After all, dramatic turn of phrase is just one of his many talents...

But then, as I lay snuggled next to Patrick under our big double sleeping bag, listening to the quiet snores of my nephews and watching the puddles and rivers form on the roof of our tent, I thought of my brother and his "curses" and smiled.

Miss you guys.

Senior Cititzens: Bogging down the Internet

2009-08-20T17:48:00.000-07:00

(Before we begin, I just want to give myself a pat on the back for remembering to blog again this week...This has been like the adult version of potty training for me....if I can blog at least three times a week for a month should I buy myself a new toy?...)

Anyhow, as I was working today, things were going pretty smoothly. We've actually been over-staffed in the office for the past couple of days, as we are training two new employees. Well, anyway, it was getting towards the end of our shift--only about an hour to go--and this sweet little old lady came up to the window, saying she would like to renew her season tickets. (Luckily for me, I was in the back making copies at this point. So, she was being help by my soon to be ex-coworker and one of our new trainees...)

What this kind and wizened woman failed to mention was that she was also going to be renewing tickets for seventeen (count 'em) of her friends. I could hear the silent "Oh holy poo on toast" racing through the brains of people out front, ringing out of their ears, beaming through their now plastered-on smile, and smashing through the walls until hit me over the hum of the copier.

Now, generally speaking, I consider myself a strong and moderately brave individual. But there are times in life when you know better than to get involved in something: day-after-Thanksgiving-sales and blue-haired-bitties-at-customer-service-desks are prime examples. So I stayed out of eye and ear shot until I found a different customer to help.

An hour and half--13 phone calls and 6 patrons--later, she smiled at us, said "thank you for being so accomodating" and tottered out the door.

After the door gave that happy clicking sound of finality we all sat and listened to the wheeze of the printing machine (it sounded like it had asthma after all 136 tickets). It was then that I realized that she was probably a champion of chain mail forwarding...you know, one of those "send this on to ten of your best friends or you will be brutally hacked to bits by the starving children you could have saved with this email" types. I bet she probably sees those ominous closing statements as some weird kind of karma-related insurance.

No Heart Attacks Please...

2009-08-18T21:13:00.000-07:00

Okay, so for the last couple of months, I've been enduring some particularly bad razzing about not blogging, answering my phone, yaddah, yaddah, yaddah, etc, ad nauseum...

So just for kicks and giggles I thought I'd watch all your jaws drop when you see this electronic proof of life. (Which, according to my sister, is what this is. Although, I still refuse to join Facebook on the principle that I am one of those people who causes everyone else to use long numerical identifiers in their usernames; like bumperstickerlover4567.)

Anyhow, since it has been a particularly long time, I'll update you all (my 1.5 readers) as to me and Patch's big life news:

Shortly after mom passed away Patrick lost his job. We have been, and are continuing to search for employment for him. So if any of you hear of something...PLEASE let us know. In the mean time, we have moved in with my father--doing our best to keep the house felt "lived in," both for his sake and ours. He has been so supportive of us, and we couldn't have made it this far without him. (Thank you, Dad. For everything and always.)

On a brighter note, I want to tell you all that heaven does exist and family members are our best gaurdian angels. The day we were helping Josh and Elena pack the truck for their move to Maryland I received what was probably the second most monumental phone call of my life. Tanya Nolan from WSU's Department of Radiologic Sciences called to tell me that they had had a vacancy in their Radiography program and would like to know if I would accept the position. It took my brain a little while to process this information. (I imagine it's a similar feeling to being told, "Congratulations, you've just won Who Wants to be a Millionaire!") After my neural circuits rebooted, I had just enough brain power to spit out the words "Yes! Please!"

I called everyone I could think of (which, granted wasn't many in my state of mind...if you are one of those I missed, I'm sorry. You're not alone!) and told them then news. After about five of these calls, my heart couldn't take it any more and I just stood there and sobbed in joy and relief.

I know with all my heart that my mother was instrumental in this twist of my fate. It was almost like I could hear her voice in my ear telling me it was all going to be okay. See how everything had worked out? I shouldn't worry so much about theses kind of things..."those feelings of chaos let you know your alive." (Truth be told, I didn't like it much when she was alive and would say that to me...and I can't say my opinion's changed. I still think peaceful feelings are much easier to deal with. All in all, though, she's right...)

Well, long story short(ened), I've attended my orientations for the program, bought scrubs and books (highway robbery!), and am getting ready to take the plunge into healthcare. It's very daunting at times, and I still feel out of place amongst some of these other students who already seem to know everything there is to know about this program; but I keep telling myself that my professors and clinical instructors understand that I'm paying for school to learn-- not to prove how much I already know. Let's just hope I know what I'm talking about. :)

Anyway, this has turned into an epistle when I wasn't looking...don't worry. There will be more later. I'm trying to keep my promise to Chrissy to blog at least twice a week. Wish me luck!

Blind for a Night: My Life as a Fruitbat

2009-01-15T21:14:00.000-08:00

It was a night much like any other when I entered my apartment. Little did I know what fate had in store for me...

I was haggard and worn coming home from my job that night. I'd just spent seven hours on the phone helping senile grandparents switch their season tickets around so they could see little Johnny or Suzie debut as munchkins at our local theatre. My voice was hoarse from shouting at slow speed into the handset; while simultaneously praying I wouldn't have to repeat myself for the third time in a row...receptionists and clerks ought to have vocal training as rigorous as any opera stars. But I had something to look forward to, even through the mental fog that enshrouded me as soon as I clocked out: Kaylee was coming to visit!

I don't often have the time to just sit and be with friends these days, so I was looking to make this evening a real treat. I had invited my friend to come over for a homecooked meal, but didn't get off work until after 8:00 pm; so, in grand Madsen tradition, we started eating around 10 o'clock.

I was particularly excited as I went about preparing the food. My husband and I went grocery shopping last week for the first time in four and a half months. (Thanks again to all our family who let us sponge their resources!) I had fresh ingredients waiting--calling to me from our once empty shelves--I was almost dizzy with anticipation! However, I did decide to keep the menu simple. After all, I was hungry now! Butter herb pasta (yes, that one was from a box) and pan-fried chicken.

Well, everything was going along swimmingly. Kaylee and I were chatting and catching up while puttering around the kitchen--sweetly serenaded by the mellow sounds of Guitar Hero in the front room, of course, courtesy of Patrick. I had just finished dredging the chicken in olive oil and flour and spices a la my inner Emeril (Bam!) and was preparing to sear them...voila! First side down in the oil and no casualties! The aroma of sizzling poultry started to infuse the air and all the stomachs in the house gave a slight gurgle of anticipation. Three minutes later and the first breast was flipped. "Oh yeah," I thought, "I'm getting good. Soon they'll be asking me to go on Food Network Challenge and show the masses how it's done." Impressed by my own flair I went to flip the second breast...and in hindsight (ha ha) was perhaps a bit overzealous...

Hiss!

At this point of the story, I would like to say that the first thought that came to my mind was: "Oh look. Little flying flecks of hot cooking oil. I shall dodge them expertly my awesome slow-mo Matrix moves." However, as you may have guessed, my actual first thought was more along the lines of: "Sweet Mother of Abraham Lincoln! My head's on fire!"

I regret to report that, as it turns out, I have no awesome slow-mo Matrix moves. None. Instead of dodging the oil the most I was able to do was close my eyes...which probably saved me a trip to the hospital. However, I can report that I was able to keep my inner panic attack in check. The stream of mental profanities and curses against poultry of all kinds was quelled by the time it actually got to my tongue and all I said out loud was: "Um, Kaylee? Could you come watch the chicken for a minute?"

I rushed to the bathroom and started to splash cold water on my eyes. And then I bit back another stream of curses as I'd forgotten that I'd actually decided to wear makeup that day; and the stinging of the burns on my eyelids was compounded by the sting of diluted mascara running into my eyes.

I don't remember much more of what happened that night. I had cold cloths pressed over my face for the next couple of hours and I discovered I would be a dismal failure as a blind person. I kept bumping into walls and doorframes and the refrigerator. And I applaud anyone who can eat reasonably well without being able to see if their fork has actually reached the plate or not. (I gave up after a few tries and went for the more infantile yet effective approach of treating everything like finger food.)

We were going to hang out for a while and make smoothies or fruit salad or something, but my little "incident" cut the evening short. There were no fruit treats for this blind bird. (I probably looked such a sight after my first eating attempt that I don't blame them for not wanting to see me try again.) Kaylee left to go back to Ogden after Patrick gallantly returned from the store with some burn ointment, and took her fruity shmorgasboard with her. Though she did leave my favorite for me...a kiwi. Patrick and I joked about me looking like some bizarre fruitbat sucking on that kiwi with my improv blindfold...You know it's true love when he's still saying I love you when your eyes look like something out of a Rocky movie with kiwi seeds stuck to your teeth and green juice dribbling down your chin...*sigh* What a night.

Enough is Enough

2008-11-26T14:28:00.000-08:00

There comes a point in every girl's life when she decides to finally grit her teeth and do the unthinkable: take her family's advice. Ever since I got married this past year, my family has taken it in turns to periodically pester me about starting a blog like the rest of them. I would simply counter by reminding them how horrible I am about staying in touch with people through electronic media. Heck, even my cell phone message issues fair warning to one and all that I may or may not respond! I figure if it's really important you'll call back. :) However, it would seem fate decided not to back my cause this time...what with school, work, and all the other stuff that seems to weasle it's way into my free time--it takes a major family crisis to clear enough room for me to hang out with those I love the way I used to; hence, my blog is born.

I've learned many lessons from my family, and one that has struck very close to home recently is the importance of continuing to cultivate those relationships that mean the most to us in life. So, to all the friends I've lost track of, and all the family patient enough to put up with me, I want to say a fresh "hello" and ask for a second chance. Who knows--maybe I'll even find the willpower to check my messages daily! I love you guys.