Small Blurb

Off to the side of my Hotmail inbox are the MSN articles that they want to catch your eye, and one of them tonight says "How to Survive a Kidnapping." I'm one of those people that looks at it and rolls my eyes, and if I ever were kidnapped and in the trunk of the car I'd think about it and be like, "Damnit! Should've read it..."

First Looks

I know that I'm the queen of doing things late, ie getting my wedding video 2 years later. This isn't QUITE as bad as that one, I'm only 15 months late, and I think that's a step in the right direction.
When I went to the hospital - in labor and dialated to a 5 - I was convinced they were going to check me and send me home again. I was so convinced of it that I didn't take anything with me - including a camera. The hospital had one and they took these pictures, which I hadn't seen until today.
And for the record, I don't think you should take a picture of a woman that's just given birth.

Looking at these, it's so easy to remember the amazement of having a baby and looking at her and reveling in how perfect she is, and it all seems like such a sacred miracle. This day changed the rest of my life, but I wouldn't dare take it back.

Not Kidding

Yesterday was another day when the bad news comes in threes. It actually started a week ago when Mom's car broke down on their way home from Cedar City. We have two cars and we mostly just use whichever has the most gas, so we were fortunately able to lend her one of our cars for the past week, and it hasn't been a big deal at all.

Until last night.

Around 8:30 we decided to drive over to Chelsee's to give her a vaccuum that Jay's parents were going to give away. We noticed that the car was acting funny, but just that the speedometer wasn't working right. Jay noticed that it popped up when he turned on the turn signal, and then dropped again when he hit the brake. And we stopped at a stoplight, and the car was dead. Luckilly, we were on 2600 where there's a slight hill, so he was able to get the car to coast fast enough and then turn into a parking lot and into a parking spot. I was lucky he was there, because there's no way I'd be strong enough to do it.

So we walked down to Chelsee's, a little annoyed but realizing how much worse it could be, and from there we called Jay's parents to ask if we could borrow their car. They said we could, so we drove up there and got the car from them, and Jay's dad said that he would drive over to where our car had broken down to follow Jay and tow him if he had to so we could get the car to a mechanic.

We sat at the restaruant and waited for him. It had gotten late, it had gotten dark, and Jay still had to be to work at midnight. We honestly didn't know what was taking him so long, he should've been right behind us.

Then Jay's aunt and uncle turn into the parking lot - completely unexpected- and tell us that no, he's not coming and on top of that, they need their car back because his truck won't start.

Come on.

We got it figured out, Mom is riding to work with Chelsee and we'll just take our other car back, but the hassle of all of it made it so Jay got about 45 minutes of sleep before he had to go to work. And now we have the added bonus of needing to get our car towed this morning and fixed -AGAIN.

I know it could be a lot worse. However I can't deny all the parallels I saw to a bad sitcom last night.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHELSEE!

Chelsee, you're beautiful and fun to be around and I'm so proud of your work ethic and how you're getting back into school. You're so talented, you make amazing cakes and take beautiful pictures. You've always been such a good Aunt to Kameryn, I know how much she loves you and how much she loves to have you around. She's content to have your head against hers with her hand in your hair.

You have always been there for me and Jay, and you've helped us out too many times to remember. We both really appreciate it. We love you so much!

This Is Why I Don't Cook

I don't cook. I can make some mean fried eggs, and you can count on me for spaghetti or anything with instructions on the back of the box when I just need to add butter, water and milk. With those receipies, I'm golden.
On the 24th, Jay went to bed at three in the afternoon, exhausted from his weekend spent reading Harry Potter. At the same time that he fell asleep, Kameryn went down for an axiously awaited, long overdue nap. And just like that, I had an afternoon to myself. I did a few different things before the brillance dawned on me that I wanted to make something. I decided on a cake, washed the dishes and then started getting stuff out. I'm sure the cake would've worked, had I stuck to the plan. My logic for that conclusion is that the ingredients are listed on the back of the box. Add water, oil and an egg and I'm golden.
But no, I decide I want to be even more creative, so I pull out a book I got as a wedding gift called "101 Things to Do With a Cake Mix" and from there decide on some cakey-cream cheesy bars that I've made before and turned out pretty well. So I'm getting everything together, and it gets to the point where I need to grease the pan and put my creation into the oven.
So I pull some Western Family Shortening out of the cupboard, grab a paper towel and begin to spread it around. My first clue that something is wrong comes from the fact that it's more sticky than anything, it doesn't spread well at all. I get a little bit more on the paper towel and this time when I'm looking at the shortening I notice that it's sort of clear. Weird. I remember it being white.
I think the thing that FINALLY got me was the smell. The smell of shortening, but amplified until it's almost too much to take.
So I look at the can again, trying to find an expiration date. I find it. April 2003.

After this realization I notice another sign that should have steered me away from the goop before I spread it all over. The label is completely saturated. So the thought should've been, "Hey, why is shortening on my hands before I've even taken the lid off the can?" Yeah. I told you I don't cook much.

It took about 7 good, hard scrubbings before I got the nastiness off my hands, and while I'm standing there scrubbing I realize that I must've bought this shortening when I lived in Salt Lake, before I got married. I've lived in two apartments since then AND with my mom for a year. And thankfully I had the shortening in a box somewhere, JUST IN CASE, that whole time. By the time we unpacked it when we moved here it had been expired for 3 years already. But yeah, we just put it up in the cupboard.

So maybe it's time to work on this whole pack-rat thing.

*****Mom mentioned in her comment that I didn't say how the cakey cream cheesy bars turned out. I didn't use the shortening pan to cook them in, luckilly. However, they still turned out to be pretty tasteless in the end. I would've been more disappointed but I was making funeral potatoes at the same time, something I love but have never made before, and they turned out awesome...even if I did buy frosted flakes instead of corn flakes to go on top....*****

Crazy Dreams

Harry Potter is everywhere. So I'm sure I'm not the only person who was dreaming about him last night. But while most people are dreaming about wizards and spells and wands and magic potions, my mind went to an interview I heard on NPR yesterday with Michael Moore, so I dreamed that Harry Potter was denied Health Insurance.
I think I'll call it "The More Practical Harry Potter - If Potter Can't Get Health Insurance, Who Can?" or, more simply, "Harry Potter, the Sicko."

Blog Challange

I have all my favorite blogs listed in my Favorites and I check them nearly every day. I find it really entertaining and relaxing. I admit, I have two in here that are blogs I've come across for people I have never met, and I still read them religiously. One of these blogs is Unabashedlyheatherlynn.blogspot.com, and Heather is an English teacher in PA. In true English teacher fashion, she gives "Wednesday Blog Challanges" and she picks a theme that she would like you to write about. The one for last week was confessions.

Confess away. It could be anything. You don't pay your bills on time. You haven't eaten a vegetable in three years. You don't know your times tables. You wear the same underwear two days in a row. You haven't yet washed the pot that's been in your sink for the past two months. Your neighbors complain because you mow your lawn too infrequently. You kiss your pet on the mouth. You talk to yourself out loud - and answer yourself. You're wearing your old e-rings and wedding band just because they look pretty and happened to be right next to the computer (*blush*).

Obviously I don't usually blog my answers to them, even though they do get me thinking, but tonight I figure, What the Heck? So here it is, a list of confessions you may or may not know about me:

I am TERRIBLE at Geography. I think I've admitted to this before, but I don't have the foggiest idea what is where. It's not that I haven't tried to learn, it just doesn't stick with me for some reason.

I also still check my hands to know right from left. It's more of a comfort thing than anything. I don't do it the typical way, I know that my scar is on my left hand, so I'll glance at my left hand, see the scar and know that it's right. (Ha!)

I LOVED being pregnant. I loved it so much I get jealous when I see pregnant women, which I know isn't the typical response. There is something so amazing about being pregnant, and I was always so proud of what my body was capable of doing. Getting pregnant again soon isn't a good idea for me, but I can't wait until I am again.

I never pay my bills on time. I don't think anyone is surprised by that one.

More than that, though, I never do ANYTHING on time, let alone early. I heard once that people who are chronically late are trying to let people know that they can't be controlled, a "I'll get there when I want to get there" sort of attitude, but I don't think that's the explination in my case - I just procrastinate.

I cry ALL THE TIME. And it's not crying because I'm sad most of the time, I cry when I'm moved by something. And it's no holds barred, I'm afraid, it can be a movie, or a TV show, or a commercial, or Story Corps or the news. Anything.

I'm a pack rat, and in my mind, I'm the worst kind. I keep things in case I need them one day, but worse than that, I almost don't know what's important to keep and what can be thrown out when it comes to papers and receipts, so I keep everything.

And I'll give you a last one and then wrap this up: I think that if Harry Potter lives I'll consider reading the books.

Random Thursday Night Thoughts

My thyroid ultrasound is tomorrow and for the life of me I can't find my insurance card ANYWHERE, even though we have TWO and I know for a fact we had it a WEEK AGO for Jay's appointment. It makes me so crazy to be so unorganized, and now that Kami's finally asleep I decided to blog a bit to calm down before I go to bed.
Here are some random things that are on my mind:

Thanks to Danae and Chelsee, Jay and I snuck off to see a pre-screening of Hairspray last night. And the truth of it is that cheesy movies with good music and lots of dancing are right up my alley. I liked the movie, I LOVED the soundtrack. I plan on getting it and listening to it over and over on the way to and from work. I suspect I'll listen until I know all the words, and then listen until I'm almost sick of it, and then instead of taking it out and listening to something else so I don't get sick of it, I'll play it a few more times.

A specimen got lost at work, which was brought to the attention of the doctor yesterday. After figuring out who was where on that day, since it was Monday a week ago, and none of us remembered, we found out that I was the only one working. So, one way or another, this was my fault. And my co-worker wasn't discreet about the fact, going up to the doctor and telling him it was either her or me that lost it, and it wasn't her. (Real smooth, right?) I KNEW I had sent it out, so I started calling the lab to bug them about it. I called them 5 timees before they finally said, "There's nothing we can do. You have to call the courriers." Which I did. I talked to person One, who had to transfer me to person Two, where I had to leave a voicemail.
Then, today, while I was bringing a patient back they got a call. "Wow, here it is after all." And who took the call and let the doctor know? Mrs. "It Wasn't Me." And truthfully I'm just glad that it's over and the patient doesn't need to come back in to get cut open again. And I'm glad that the office knows that when I said I sent it, I was telling the truth. But with all the work I put into it, and the way my co-worker brushed it off as lost forever, it would've been THAT much sweeter if I had gotten the call myself. I know that's a little childish, but that's what I think.

Mom and I went to a Kurt Bestor concert on Monday, and it was such a blast. It was outside, which was nice. And Mom is so cute, she got her tickets forever ago, so our seats were 3 rows from the stage, right in the center. Kurt was playing with the Utah Orchestra, and it was so awesome, as anyone who's been to a Kurt Bestor concert can attest to. Then, afterward while we were walking out we passed a table where they were selling CDs, and we kept on walking until Mom said, "Well, Kjersti, do you want a CD?" Of course I did, so we went back and were standing there picking out which CD we wanted when Kurt himself came walking out and sat down RIGHT IN FRONT OF US to sign CDs. And we were in the front of the line. It was so amazingly lucky.

While I was putting Kami to bed tonight there was a point when I was holding her and rocking her, and she looked up at me and put her little hands on both my cheeks and whispered to me. I would give anything to know what she thought she was saying. And after that she started kissing me and running her fingers through my hair. Sweet moments like that with my baby girl have to be my favorite thing ever.

My Discovery

This past Friday I was talking to our Physican's Assistant about how I've been feeling nauseated almost every night for a couple weeks, but I've taken a couple pregnancy tests and they were both negative. She was asking about my birth control (I was on the patch) and she said that isn't a good choice for me and I should try something else. That conversation turned into a visit so she could prescribe something for me, which turned into my annual exam because it was long overdue. And yes, I know, I work in a doctor's office and I should be more careful about things like that, but come on, no one looks forward to that exam. The ONLY good part about it is when it's over you know you're good for another year.
So at the end she said she wanted to get some blood work, which I admit I got a little too excited about, and I said something like, "Oh, I love getting my blood drawn. Feel free to run anything you want on me." And she said, "Alright, I had some things in mind." And she ordered 8 tests, checking my thyroid and cholesterol and complete blood count and all that.
I really do love getting my blood drawn. I don't like getting pricked, but I don't mind it either, and I'm always amazed with ALL the many things they know about you from a little bit of blood. They can check all the cholestrol, my iron count, my calcium, my platelets, my liver, my C02, and all of it from a bit of blood.
Well, we got my bloodwork back and everything came back normal except one thing. My thyoid. The range for normal thyroids is 0.45 and 4.5. Mine was at 16.94. And just like that, we know that I'll be taking Synthroid or the like for the rest of my life.
The good thing about it is that taking the pills- once we find the right dose, which admittedly might take awhile - will give me more energy and with any luck will help me lose some weight. And even without that, I think it's so much better to know than to not know and worry.
SO, for the people in my family, I suggest getting your thyroid checked. If me and mom both have it, there's a good chance that it runs in the family.
And to everyone else, make sure you make your appointments, even the bad ones. Who knows how much earlier I could've caught this if I had just been a little braver.
And there it is, my commercial for staying on top of healthy living. Next up for me: A thyroid ultrasound this Friday morning to make sure my thyroid is nodule free.

Yesterday I called to tell our patient about his polysomnogram (sleep test) results. He had sleep apnea, and they wanted me to set him up for a CPAP titration study, which is when you get fitted for the CPAP machine, a rather large and awkward mask you wear at night to make sure you breathe. I called him and started to read him his results:
"And it says that you've got sleep apnea, so I'm gonna set you up with a new test that will get you fitted for your CPAP."
"No, I'm not wearing that damn thing. What are my other options?"
I say, "Yeah, a lot of people have to get used to them for a couple weeks, but after that you'll be used to it and it won't be so bad."
He's unrelenting. "I won't wear it. What else can I do?"
"Well, it says here that you could also have surgery."
"Let's do it. I want the surgery. What are they gonna do? Do they go up through my nose?"
"I don't know.: Thinking, People don't GET surgery when they can just wear a machine at night! "But I'll refer you to someone who will tell you. Um, okay, here are some numbers for some ENTs."

I don't know if the transcript of it does it justice. It was so unusual and unexpected.

And, my total blond moment, I was reading through his test results before I called him and it said "Patient can also work on not sleeping supine, as a lot of the episodes happened in this position." And my first thought was, "How is he supposed to work on sleeping without lying down?"
(Supine means laying down, just specifically on your back.)

Just Glad It's Over...

I wanted to have some fun pictures of the 4th to post. I had one in mind that I really wanted to get, the picture of Dad when he kneels down and touches the graves of the Medal of Honor winners. We had planned to go meet Dad at his house at noon, and go to the three Medal of Honor reciepients gravesites. An interesting way to spend the holiday, and we had everything packed and were driving down there when Kami threw up. A lot. It got on her carseat, so even if we had thought ahead to bring extra clothes, which we hadn't, we still would've had to come home. And Jay, not loving the smell or the whiny baby, got us home in about half the time it took to drive out.

So we threw everything in the washer and got her cleaned off, and sat watching Court TV. I was in a bit of a bad mood from the disappointment, but knew that the group would call us when they got to the graveyard in Salt Lake. When they called we had time to get out there, but in having to wait for the carseat cushions to dry we were late. I was glad to be part of the group for a small time, but it was quite short.

The best part of the day was playing Mormon Bridge and Scrabble with mom and Chelsee and Geoff.

And then I had the bright idea of taking Kami to see the fireworks. This turned out to be the biggest disaster of the day, and just over-the-top enough to make it all seem a little bit funny.

I called Chelsee to come out and see the fireworks with me. She knows someone who lives by Sugarhouse park, so I thought the problem of having no where to park was solved. We drove out on I-80 until we saw the sign, AFTER the last exit, that told us that our exit was closed, we had to keep going to Holladay. So we did, in bumper to bumper traffic, and when we finally got off we just followed the other cars because we didn't know where to go. Cars were parked on both sides of the street as we got closer, so we knew we were there, but couldn't get our bearings to find her friend's house. After making a few circles, we decided just to get back on the main road so we could figure out where we needed to be. I drove down 13th and there it was: The road blocked off by police who were forcing us back onto the freeway.

Luckilly, Kami slept through this whole thing.

Then we decided to just go to Baskin, get some ice cream and shake the whole thing off. And Chelsee got Kameryn out of the car and walked up the the door before she started throwing up, all over the sidewalk. And after cleaning that up the best we could and getting some ice cream, Kameryn SCREAMED the whole way home. The bloody mary type scream that you can't even talk over.

Happy 4th, Everyone. I think it's fair to assume yours was better than mine.

Whatever!

I had intended to write every day for a week, at least, trying to get myself back into the habit. Now I'm not sure if I'll be able to because my laptop at home got a virus and we can't seem to get it to work. I'll try to come up to mom's or still blog somehow. It's too bad because I was really enjoying getting the habit back. Sometimes I'm convinced even sub-par posts are better than nothing.