L'aventure américaine

Today is not my best day in the hospital. I am "sitting" today, which is always a drag, but today is quite the day. I'm with two patients. Window is in restraints. I took him out of them this morning to get him cleaned up, but around 11am, he started getting restless, complaining of pain, saying that he didn't want anything for pain. Then when I look up, he's trying to pull his Foley catheter out (which is very bad, since he just had bladder surgery). He's now very angry with me and anytime I go near him, he gives me a mad mad mad look. Door is not in restraints but does have to go to the bathroom every hour. Really. This is every hour with diarrhea. And it's a two person job to get him out of bed. And he gets angry if it takes someone longer than five minutes to get to the room to help. Diarrhea. Every hour. 2 person assist. ...The worst part about this is that if he would start eating real food, they would take him off of the tube feedings

Doesn't the day seem to have a new sheen to it? Don't people seem to be a little happier? Don't faces have an extra glow? Yes they do. Yes we did. Listening to NPR this morning, I heard the words, "President Obama" and my heart just warmed. It's still a goooood week. .... We arrived in Indy yesterday evening, everyone having taken a health hit. I had a fever on Sunday night and most of Monday (hence the lack of communication), Art Boy has a sore throat, Jackie has an eye infection. However, none of that seemed to matter in the spirit of the moment. What a city DC was this week. It was full of hope and smiles. Everyone spoke to one another on the metro, on the street, in the elevator, in restaurants. The night before the inauguration when we were eating at a delicious Italian restaurant, we suddenly became impromptu friends with everyone in the room. Every table did toasts to Obama, shared our experiences of meeting him, shared our hopes for the fut

The Bush family is cleaning out their stuff and finishing last minute pardons and the Obama clan is busy planning new White House decor. It is a goooood week. We arrived yesterday after an easy trip to D.C. Our hotel is about a mile from the Capital Building and very close to a metro stop. Instead of sleeping on the floor, which was the original plan, Jackie (Art Boy's mom) managed to get us into a room with two queen beds. Very nice. Today we're going to a concert at the Lincoln Memorial with a plethora of artists like James Taylor, Beyonce, Queen Latifah, among others (that I can't remember right now). It should be great, if it's not too cold and too crowded. By the way, the crowds are something that we're factoring into every plan this weekend. DC is inundated with Obama supporters! It's quite the spirit that is rampant here. It's a great time to be in city. It certainly makes me feel proud of my country.

So, Talia and I decided that it would be fun if both of Mackenzie's blog links had the same title. We are very creative that way. Er, geeky. Anyway. I do miss Mackenzie. Granted, she has been my best friend for my entire life and most of that time has been spent apart. Whether it was the insurmountable distance between Bloomington and Greene County pre-driver's license, or France or Mexico or Colorado, we've generally been far away. However, Indianapolis has brought us pretty close geographically and I have loved it. Mackenzie's trip to Bulgaria has given me a slight, bitter taste of life post-nursing school, when I plan to fly the coop of Indianapolis. However, it has also been reassuring in the way that we have kept in touch via many different mediums. Whether it's email or Skype or the phone, Mackenzie maintains the same zest and pizazz that I love about her. (Also since her name has a 'z' in it, she calls for 'z' adjectives.) So, I'l

The party was a success. Of course, most parties are when they include a George Bush pinata, a giant bonfire, a man-made tree with all of our cares and worries transcribed on post-it notes that we burned at midnight... foosball, ping-pong (I got a ping-pong injury), delicious food, a wandering poet who said things like, "You are the foundation to my burning building," homemade masks of the people who had died this year, good people, good music, good fun. And I found my way home at 4am, so even I can stay up past midnight.