Thankful Thursday - Nurses

How can I put this into words....


These people will more than likely hold your life/personal comfort/leg bag  in their hands one day, so you really need to suck up to them NOW! 

If I could stand the thought of putting an IV into someone, and if I wasn't convinced I would most probably earn the moniker: "Florence Deathingale", and if I wasn't so abysmally lazy, this is a career to which I would aspire. 


Nurses are the sh*t people!


My brother is a nurse. He is also the sh*t.

They have to deal with people at their absolute worst. They have to deal with human excretions of all sorts. They see people die All The Time. They work long hours with tons of responsibility, but none the authority that should go with it. 


If we've royally screwed up and allowed all of our friends to die before us (or have been such a life-long jackass that our friends have walked away) a nurse might be the only witness to our last hours and our passing to the great theme park in the sky. 

Nurses have to do the most awkward things to strangers.
I doubt they wake up before they go in to work saying "Hurray, I get to give an enema to an ancient crack pot today!"


They get bitten and punched. They have to lift people of all sizes. They get yelled at for not hurrying fast enough. They are not allowed to make mistakes.


So, nurses everywhere, I raise a glass of plastic covered apple juice to you in appreciation of all that you do for us, and for all that you will do for us!

SUPER NORO(virus)

Brian and I went out for a lovely dinner with his folks at Red Lobster yesterday. And then when I got out of the cab when we arrived home, I had a 4 hour adventure I like to call:

SUPER NORO(virus)

Yes. I vomited in the street. And in my hair. I was thrown onto the curb with the violence of my projection. Mascara smeared down my face by uncontrolled tears. Puke on my favourite boots. 

Today, the role of vomit will be played by pretty presents.

Brian somehow managed to get me into the house and upstairs to bed. He dealt with the dogs and took Sam for a much needed walk while I screamed my dinner into the toilet and then into the garbage pail. 

Brian returned and got me a glass of ice cubes (couldn’t manage any), some fresh towels (don’t ask) and a lot of sympathy. 

I was feeling pretty freaked out so I asked him to see if our neighbour across the street, who is a nurse, would pop in to make sure I wasn’t going to die.

So she came over and got my details and assured me it was a gastro virus and that I’d feel really bad for a little while longer and then be exhausted for a couple days.

I have, in my list of things I want to blog about, notes on how much I admire nurses. I don’t want to sully my respect and appreciation for those called to the career by wasting it talking about my stomach flu. Suffice it to say, my neighbour across the street will be hearing from the Vatican soon that she has been nominated for Sainthood.

When it was bedtime I manage to keep down a Gravol and started to not want to die. Brian was very kind and told me stories of when he had gastro viruses, complete with full demonstrations of how he sounded when he threw up. I smiled weakly and told him that that was very nice but that he didn’t have to be so.... so vivid.

I feel better this morning, but will not be going for a run, or making dinner or doing much other than saving my energy for taking the dogs out to do their business. They are, apparently, unaware that Mommy is too freakin’ sick to give a crap that they want a chewie RIGHT NOW. 

Now that the dogs have gone out with Nina the Wonder Dog Whisperer, I am heading up to throw in some laundry (don’t ask), have a bath and sleep. 

Remember kids, wash your hands.

xo