What Did You Say?

I have a patient right now who is quite profoundly deaf, despite the use of hearing aids in both his ears. Not being able to hear what I'm saying all the time, has resulted in some hilarious misinterpretations. Here are just a few of the things that he thought he heard me say:

Me: My name is Kamie.
Patient: Krispie? Well, that's a dumb name.

Me: Do you have any allergies?
Patient: No, I haven't seen any lawyers lately.

Me: You are working with me this week.
Patient: I'm going to be dead this week?!?

I sure did try and keep a straight face when he misheard what I was saying, but it was definitely hard. Good times.

Conspiracy

This past December, Ben started researching the various vacation spots we could visit this year (we usually try to take a bigger vacation every-other-year, with easier state-side vacations the opposite years).  This year we were up for our bigger vacation spot, and being extra excited and oober-prepared, Ben looked into a variety of different locations.  Eventually, several other members of my family decided to join in the fun, and we had a great group put together.  In January, everyone got together to discuss the pros and cons of our different options, ultimately deciding on visiting Morelos, Mexico.  Yes, that's right - I said Mexico.  Clearly something is conspiring against us visiting that country this year because first there were the drug wars, followed by the multitude of 5.0+ earthquakes, and then most recently the outbreak of the Swine Flu.  Even though our vacation isn't until August, it is looking less and less likely that we will be able to visit there this year.  But, I guess if we're crazy enough to still try and go...we will likely either be gunned down by drug lords, or crushed to death in the rubble of a decrepit building, or get deathly ill and poorly cared for in some hospital.  Maybe we will try visiting somewhere slightly safer this year, like Iraq or Afghanistan.

Best Days

Carson and I were talking last night about what he had done that day. Nothing major, just an overview of the things he experienced, to not only work on his story-telling and language skills (yes, I'm forever a speech therapist), but also so I feel as involved as possible in his life on those days I have to work. As we were talking, I asked him a series of questions that I thought was quite funny:

Me: Carson, what do you like most about Nana days?
Carson: Catching butterflies.

Me: What do you like most about Mommy days?
Carson: Having cooking and art days.

Me: Great. What do you like most about Daddy days?
Carson: Eating the marshmallows in the Lucky Charms.

I think I have clearly identified the weak link in my parenting armor: Ben.

Funny Comments

So I have two pretty interesting patients right now - both have traumatic brain injuries, which result in some pretty funny comments. Here are a few I heard yesterday:

Patient #1:
The nurse comes in to check on him while he's in the bathroom: "Are you OK in there?"
"Yes, and thank you for your interest. I can really tell you care how much I pee." (He says it with genuine sincerity).

After a 30 minute session where we are doing nothing but talking, he says: "You know, I just need some attention. If someone could spend just 10 minutes talking to me, I think I could get better."

I stepped out of his room for 2 minutes to get him some juice. When I came back in he says: "Boy, you look familiar."


Patient #2;
I brought in some applesauce and ice chips for him to try and eat, and he says: "You know, if I had a tail right now, it would be wagging."

(This didn't happen to me, but I heard about it and couldn't help including it) He's sitting on the edge of his bed getting dressed and has his shirt off. He looks up to the female occupational therapist and says, "I hope I'm not turning you on. I have my shirt off and I'm so muscly" (then makes a weak attempt at flexing his non-existent muscles).

Forced Volunteerism

Ben received an interesting email yesterday, that I felt compelled to share. Evidently, certain individuals have forgotten what both the concept and definition of volunteering and service really are. Below is the message he received:

"Brethren,
I'm sure you already received the other email we sent out regarding Stake Conference. Don't worry, this one is not a duplicate. This particular email is going out to those elders in the quorum who, according to our records, have yet to fill any sort of service assignment in the quorum (sealings, canning, moving, etc.) since the ward was created about a year ago. We realize that most, if not all of you have church callings which undoubtedly take up a good amount of your time, so time is limited. Thank you for fulfilling those callings that you already have. However, YOU are on our "hit" list now. We are going to be approaching you to help fill quorum assignments, until we've given everyone the opportunity to serve, at which point we'll rotate back through the list of all Elders in the quorum (approximately 90 in all).

Our next assignment is Sunday for Stake Conference. The Stake has tasked our ward with providing two brethren to assist with ushering parking, AFTER the general session. If you would like to volunteer, and avoid the possibility of being "assigned" this, or any subsequent duties, please let us know, and we can remove your name from further, similar emails. We will advise this same group of any up-and-coming assignments.

Thank You brethren for your faithfulness.
Elders Quorum Presidency"

Now, I'm completely aware that Ben is not a big fan of volunteering to help for things - mainly because he doesn't like to do things that take him away from his wife and kids (because we really do struggle to all be together for any length of time as is). However, Ben is always one of the first people to offer to help someone he knows do anything from manual labor, to finding a job, to watching their kids. So, to basically be told that he will be receiving constant emails and is now on a "hit list" until he volunteers, is completely backwards. As the adage goes: "You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar," and it's completely true. Because now, with this forced volunteerism in effect; someone who really would have helped under other circumstances, has now told me that he WILL volunteer, but volunteer to be taken OFF their list.

Spring is Here

Well, the calendar may say it's Spring time, but if you look outside and see the snow coming down and wonder why you still can't put your winter coat away, you may think otherwise.  But, despite the weather, Easter is on it's way.  We got Easter pictures taken of the kids yesterday, and every time we try to get professional pictures taken it's an interesting experience.  The last several times we have gone, we've been lucky to get one picture with both of the kids - and that one picture usually has a mad or sad Kiki.  This time around, McKinley was actually somewhat decent, and after about an hour, we ended up getting 6 fairly good pictures.  I was so excited to get something that actually had both of my kids smiling, that I had to post them.  Here they are:

X vs Y

Over the past decade I have been slowly developing a theory on the difference between men and women when it comes to sickness and pain. I've noticed that there is a high tendency for men to take something as simple as having a cold and morph it into being something as serious as a death-bed sentence. Truthfully, I thought this trait was something that was either developed over the years or something that was fostered into them by their parents. This past weekend, however, I was proved wrong. This tendency is not something that just grows over time - no, it is gene deep. The differences lie in the tiny distinction in our chromosomal make-up - the addition of the Y chromosome.

Carson and McKinley came down with a cold this weekend (yes, the same cold - so my little research study is still valid) and the differences between them were quite surprising. Here were their different responses to very mundane events:

Eating dinner:
Mckinley: Takes a few bites, lays her head down on the table, takes a few more bites.
Carson: "I can't, I'm sick. I might throw up." Pushes his food away.

Walking up the stairs:
McKinley: Deliberately and slowly makes her ways up the stairs, taking breaks every few steps.
Carson: "I can't, I'm sick. Carry me." Lays down on the floor like a limp fish.

Taking a bath:
McKinley: Endures the bath, without making a peep.
Carson: "I can't, I'm sick. It's too cold." Keeps trying to turn on the water to make it warmer - and then when it is, complains it's too hot.

Going to bed:
McKinley: Lays down on her pillow, snuggles up to her blankey, and goes right to sleep.
Carson: "I can't, I'm sick. Lay down with me - it's too dark." Screams when Ben tries to leave the room.

Watching movies:
McKinely: Lays down quietly on the couch, not really caring what is on, just as long as her mommy or daddy is close by for cuddles.
Carson: Throws a fit when a movie gets put on that wasn't his choice, sits down on the floor with his arms folded in defiance, and then when asked to get back up on the couch exclaims, "I can't, I'm sick."

By the time last night was over I was at my wits end. Clearly, the reaction to a simple cold lies in the Y chromosome's ability to handle anything negative. Obviously it is beyond it's capacity to deal with anything painful or slightly annoying. Therefore, my conclusion to this study, is that anyone in possession of a Y chromosome is not only incapable of dealing with any kind of ailment appropriately, but also they must really, truly think they are worse-off than anyone else in the entire world.