Ventilation

Now that I'm in nursing school...

That sounds incredible. I can't believe I am in nursing school.

But now that I am, I have saved up sufficient cause to need to vent. One professor listed this term on a Power Point as "ventilating" rather than venting. Same thing, I guess.

What I want to air out is my sadness/irritation/annoyance at the unnecessary rudeness and general brusqueness of things. Our society continues to descend into that pit of madness in which boils the broth of intolerance and exclusionism. This election year is a sad offering with mostly choices between Hell No and Not Good Enough. The ultra right continues its drive into the 12th century, attempting to take everyone with it.

In my daughter's middle school we have bible verse numbers on the board in History class, and in another Texas town we have public school cheerleaders making butcher paper banners with bible verses for the players to burst though before a game. In the mentioned middle school, kids are coming to confide in my daughter because of her attitude in support of Gay-Lesbian people as humans. And other kids asking the G and L kids why they are that way and telling them Jesus doesn't love them.

On my nursing exams I have deep questions about nursing theories, conceptual models and philosophies which were not discussed live in class with sufficient examples to be able to identify a statement as being of one approach versus another. Is a kind hand squeeze to a patient to be categorized as Peplau's Therapeutic Use of Self, or is it Watson's Carative philosophy? We also had questions not as substantial but on a deep topic. If I am to be a transculturally competent nurse, which question would be more essential to understand: What ingredient should be reduced in x culture's cooking to make the diet more in line with the Healthy Pyramid? - OR - What are some topics that a nurse should be aware will have different cultural attitudes about?

Also, how is a nursing student to improve if no feedback/grades are given back for assignments handed in well before the final exam? What about providing examples of well done projects and a few reminders of the highlights if what is expected?

In my husband's online Pharmacology class there is a cold wind blowing through the online portal. He uploads his Drug Cards to the Homework box instead of the Drug Card box and gets a zero. He uploads his four drug cards the next week to the correct box and the prof swears she only sees one of the four he completed, so that's a 25%. No second chances, no kind or warm communication.

I contend that the general atmosphere in the society at large is permeating the school environment at all levels. Going right seems to equate with pea brained small mindedness and just plain rude rejectionism. What's the point of being human and being here?

My brother went to a drum circle a few months ago. One woman asked if a window could be opened to release the negative energy -- I supposed from the drumming out of pent up bad feelings. My brother made some choice sarcastic comments about this on Facebook. I laughed. But perhaps the joke is on us. I think the ultra right has had their window open this whole time. The rest of us need to wake up and find somewhere else for this negative energy to go, or better yet stop the flow of negativity from its sources by passing some good laws about inclusion and sharing, about ending bullying and discrimination, and about people being treated with respect and dignity.

Part I: Yes, Virginia, There Is a ...Boddhisatva!

We got back on Monday night from the BEST vacation ever, in beautiful Virginia. We have had some very good vacations to family reunions on my dad's side of the family every other year, the last being in 2010, 3 weeks after my dear dad passed away. I still think about him every day, and ponder the comments of a stranger at his memorial service, and of my dear brother, that he was a Boddhisatva. (Look it up - he was not a Buddhist, but his life example fits the definition!) (Okay, I will give you a hint: it has to do with being focused on helping others to grow.)

What made this trip the best yet was Extreme Family. We got to connect with family on my dad's side, my mom, my brother and his boys, and family on my husband's side, and the special family that consists of old friends that treat you like royalty and family at the same time. During this 10 intense days I was energized by a nearly constant sense of wonder, joy, and gratitude over the simple beauty of spending time together.

My mom is turning 80. As part of her celebration, she invited us to vacation together based in two time share condo units in Williamsburg, one for my family and one for her and my brother and kids. They turned out to have broken Internet, which was lucky for us as this is a nearly fatal condition for my family of heavy users. But the brokenness led to more time together as they came over to our place so that my brother could finish online stuff for his summer physics courses. He is a brilliant man who teaches physics  at a community college that is switching from quarters to semesters, giving him only one week off between terms, the condo week being that week! So it was grand to have him just sitting at our table plugging away to get his work done, with some good discussion and alcohol around the edges. His boys showed my 13-year-old how to play World of Warcraft, which I shall describe as a Dungeons and Dragons version of Webkins - a type of online fantasy for older kids and teens with all kinds of magical creatures, quests, and battles. It was good bonding done between her and her 10- and 8-year-old cousins AND her uncle, because he also knows how to play and was able to provide consultation as needed. On my part, I enjoyed being the nice aunt who could give permission to watch TV in my room to nephews who are limited to 30 minutes of screen time daily at home. (I think that is great - too late for my kids!) I also enjoyed making sure I could take them to the pool once and making sure they knew about and got to experience the amazing arcade rooms at our resort. Plus I got to entice them to share our applesauce, our baked potatoes, cranberry juice, and our horrible sugary chocolate cereal. And I was treated to viewing the stop action movies the 10-year-old has made with a camera, patience, legos, and iMovie on his dad's laptop, some with help from the 8-year-old - well done!

We had one quick hourlong visit to Jamestown to see a replica Powhatan village, English ships, and an English fort. All was fascinating. We had a packed and somewhat hot day at Colonial Williamsburg where we lunched together but otherwise split up to enjoy different activities somewhere by age. And we enjoyed a sedate and content birthday celebration for Mom at the King's Arms Tavern, where we sampled recipes from the 1700s and were served by people in period costume. An actor came in wearing this  attire and talked about the history of the house in an accent of the day. It was delightful. Even though we must recall that the revolutionaries were not completely democratic as they were mainly taking over the colonizing effort from the Brits and not establishing rights for blacks or Native Americans or women. The gentleman in costume looked around the room of six or seven parties and noted, "Ah, I see you've brought the ladies this evening. No doubt there will be dancing after dining!" Then he made eye contact with our beautiful 13-year-old, who had her eyes riveted on his performance. He engaged her with the question, "Miss, you don't look as if you are from these parts. From whence do you hail?" Without missing a beat, she replied, "I am from Texas." He replied equally quickly, "Ah - a Spaniard!" We and the rest of the guests laughed heartily. He made a few closing remarks before bowing and departing. Our son, who is a film major and an aspiring actor, got into period character and began conversing with us in a similar manner. It was fun!

There were several Boddhisatvas encountered. The Jamestown tour netted a woman expert in shaping tools such as sewing needles from deer bone and another who knew all about estuary grass matts for dwelling covers. The guide at the ship replica and another at the fort replica had a deep knowledge and appreciation of their subject matters, and with a somewhat enlightened view of the "relationship" between the settlers and the indigenous people. Parallels to Palestine and Israel abounded and my husband's culture was better appreciated by the girls. My mom has been generous in supporting her two kids in their higher ed quests and planning for the support of her grandchildren in their future and current college careers. She has been equally generous in bestowing vacation accommodations upon us every two years for awhile. We had several chances for good dialogue. She even read me a hilarious chapter from a detective novel. My brother's presence and commentaries are always educational or amusing in the most surprising and delightful ways. My kids all enjoyed hanging out with everyone. Our son got to show his grandmother some of his hip hop music documentary examples. Our 20-year-old daughter got to reconnect with my brother and his boys which was good after having spent fall term in Ohio and seeing them frequently and then returning to Texas in January. My husband was purring to be near such good human beings all week, and enjoyed a vigorous healing massage from his talented brother-in-law. How is that for a package - a physics "perfessor" AND a masseuse! All the kids were on good behavior and everyone got along.

It was a grand, grand time, the best of times, and the best of the best times.

Anger Management

My favorite website for parenting help is Empowering Parents. It is an amazing gift to parents struggling with various issues from minor to major. The 13-year-old in the house has turned out to be a kid who lashes out at school when she feels put upon. This is new for us. This week, I got a call from the Assistant Principal for 7th grade informing me that the art teacher sent her to the office for pouring a bin of water on a boy and his artwork and bopping him on the head with a book. Her side of the story: the boy has been telling her "You're crazy" and "You're insane" and "Get away from my table" whenever she approaches his table to talk to a friend. I am sure there is more to this story. She has had her issues for the past year or two, very angry about her epilepsy, and not tolerant of teasing at all. She will be going to detention tomorrow and accepts her responsibility for what she did. She tried to get the boy to admit his part but he would not. I called the AP after school and mentioned that there may be a few students willing to testify that they heard the name-calling. The AP was quite nice and invited her to come in and fill out a report and list the names of people who may have heard it. She has taken care of that and we will await equal justice.

Here is one of the great articles on the EP website: http://www.empoweringparents.com/A-Day-in-the-Mind-of-Your-Defiant-Child.php.

Turtle of the Universe, Part 2

After the homework was done, the turtle and its habitat were moved to the breakfast table. We all went about our evening preparations for bedtime. Fifteen minutes later, I stopped by the table to look at the turtle. I could not see a turtle. I called to the family to come help me find the turtle. Husband and daughters came quickly. They confirmed that, indeed, no turtle was visible. Cries of consternation and worry abounded. Would the turtle dry up and die before we found it?

We stood still for fear of trampling the turtle, and looked around. How far could a turtle go in 15 minutes? Older daughter said we should look for wet spots. Bending close to the table and looking sideways, I detected about six inches from the side of the plastic container a round water spot the size of a quarter surrounded by several little drops of water. Turtle prints: round underside plus feet! About an inch away was another turtle print, with a little less water. It seemed that we had found the trail. Our older daughter looked in a logical line from the smaller print, and let out a victory "Aha!" The turtle was sitting in a hollow of a plastic storage bag that was sitting on a chair beside the table.

Turtle was returned to its habitat while we hastily prepped a new one with higher sides. Older daughter texted a friend and asked her to look for her family's discarded aquarium and bring to us the following day.  More water was requested by the younger daughter, and we realized that perhaps our salt-softened water might not be good for a fresh water turtle. My dad, who had kidney problems, would always get distilled water to drink when visiting us to avoid the salt. So new water was taken from the outside hose, heated a bit on the stove, and added to the new container. A few more rocks were gathered from outside to provide a higher resting spot in the higher water. Younger daughter placed the turtle into the escape-risk-reduced container. We surveyed the scene, watching as it swam vigorously to the side and tried to climb up. It could not climb up in this one. Whew! A makeshift screen was placed over the new habitat as extra insurance.

What a scare! We reflected on the responsibility of taking in a wild animal, small and vulnerable, out of its element, and trying to make it live in our home. Did we have a right? Should we set it free? We laughed together about the Olympic Athlete Turtle Stunt, glad that we would not be finding a dried out turtle in our home. We would have felt guilty and quite sad to have brought it in from the dry hard street, saving it from being crushed by cars, only to ultimately be responsible for its death by dessication in our home, however welcoming we had tried to be. Everyone headed for bed. And the next morning, the turtle was still there, the first thing we all looked for upon rising and heading into the kitchen.

Driving later that morning, I turned on the radio, and was very amused to find out that the song playing was by a bluegrass band called Trampled by Turtles. It occurred to me that rather than us trampling upon the turtle, this little delicate animal being, our hearts were being trampled upon by it. I am sure our hearts are covered with little wet turtle prints now. May the experience make us kinder than ever.

The Turtle of the Universe

We found a turtle on Thursday.

My older daughter and I took the dogs for a walk and my husband joined us. We did one of our usual rounds, taking us westward down our street onto a greenbelt jogging trail, through a small woods, and out onto a culdesac.

After we turned the corner onto another street to return home, my daughter stepped off the sidewalk to walk in the street. It was not her usual mode. A few steps later she stopped and exclaimed, "Oh! Look!" We stopped and looked.

She stopped and picked up something small beside the curb that was hidden from our view from our perspective on the sidewalk.

We peered down as she reached out her hand. There was a tiny turtle wiggling on the palm of her hand. We oohed and ahed over this cute little creature as it paddled its leglings against her skin.

"Should we take it to the pond? Should I check with some of these homeowners to see if they are missing a turtle?" she asked.

I supported the pond idea.

"But maybe we should take to S [her younger sister]. She doesn't have a pet of her own."
Many thoughts crossed my mind. Our youngest had developed epilepsy less than two years ago, at age 11, at the same season of entering puberty. Much turmoil ensued for a time. She had wanted a seizure dog if the medications didn't work, and had then wanted a ferret. Her older siblings had each a dog of their own.

I liked the take-to-sister idea. Although I liked it, I also imagined the ensuing expenses and time involved in taking in an animal. "How about if you check with the house next to us and if they say no we take it to your sister."

She checked with one homeowner who said they were not missing a turtle. But they'd be happy to take it if our other daughter didn't want it.

And so we took the turtle home. And our older daughter gave the turtle to her sister. And this daughter was ecstatic. She cradled the turtle and cooed over it and squealed like a little kid.
We found a Tupperware for it and set it up with water to swim in, rocks to rest on, and a few pieces of lettuce.

After 30 minutes, we had the turtle named and placed in its temporary habitat on the dining room table keeping her company while she was doing her homework. Our daughter looked up at us and smiled and said, "I'm happy."