6.30.2009

My fever...


That's right. I have baby fever. I have always loved children and wanted to birth my own, but this is getting ridiculous. Lindsay keeps telling me to cool my jets and wait it out and then in a few years when her "financial clock" is ready, I can start making babies. It's like torture, I swear. Good thing I can't just pull a "whoopsy!!" and get pregnant. It's pretty much like a dream at this point and I fantasize about it everyday. It's a sad situation when I read blogs about a mother's love for her children, and I end up teary-eyed (and maybe just a little green with envy) just thinking about how amazing it must feel to be a mother and feel that kind of love.

Coincidentally, I work with a young lady (Sarah) who recently found out she is pregnant. I think I was happier than she was (the hubby and her had NO DESIRE to have kids, but didn't play it safe...so to speak) when she made the big announcement. Everyday that she comes to work I ask her a million billion questions about what it's like being pregnant. They find out the sex of the baby this Thursday. I cannot wait to know as well!

So, I dunno if this is just something that happens to women my age or just to women that WANT children or what the deal is. All I know is that I LOVE babies and I'm in awe over them to the point that it is almost overwhelming. Not too far from now, Lindsay will be done with school, we can move away and start the process. It's so exciting to me. I cannot wait to experience the love and bond that are between a mother and child. One of these days I will know....and then I can cut the "baby fever" crap out. Until then, expect to hear random stories of my baby obsession.


Patience with patients...




Patients usually don't surprise me with their random comments, their willingness to tell me ANYTHING (yes, just because I wear scrubs), weird diseases, strange and generally disgusting body odors, and just all out cooky shit. However, yesterday I was a little different.

I walked into a female patients' room to start an IV. A man (who I later find out is her father) is sitting in the room with her. She was on the phone and asked me to give her just a minute (as to finish ordering her dinner). "Take your time...no problem."

The patient gets off the phone, looks me up and down and says "girrrrrl, you walkin' up in her' smellin' so good. I ain't smelled nuthin' but hospital room in days. You bout' to get cho' self in trouble!"

Ummm.....WTF??? Is REALLY what I'm thinking.

"Thanks, I always try to smell good. I'm Angela, from the Heart Station. I'm here to start an IV on you."

"Girl, I'll be the best patient, ever. My name is Angela, too! I ain't scared of no needle. OMG! You're eyes are so beautiful!" She looks over at her father..."Daddy, look at her eyes! OMG...they are just SO gorgeous!"

The lady's father glances over at me but isn't really paying much attention...

"Thanks" I said, as I wrap the torniquet around her arm and start looking for a place to start an IV. The lady will NOT stop with the comments about my eyes and smelling good and what not, so I start some random conversation about a picture of a kiddo she has taped to the end of the bed. "Is that your daughter?"

"Yea, she hot."

WHAT?!?!?! WHAAAAAAAAT!?!?!?!?!? The kid in the picture is maybe....M A Y B E 18 months old. What the hell??? How about "cute" or "adorable?"

Whatever. I finish the IV as crazy head keeps on keepin' on with the strangeness. I thank her (as always after I SPEAR someone with a fucking needle) and walk out of the room.

Let this be a lesson: if you are ever laid up in a hospital bed for days, looking like a crazy-crazbo, DO NOT....I repeat DO NOT hit on the people that are taking care of you. I don't know if it's the fact that I stabbed her with a needle that really made me appealing, or maybe it was the scrubs...but regardless....GROSS. And EWWWWWW....in front of your family member, nonetheless. DOUBLE GROSS.

A little break...

Forgive me, I've been on a little blog writing hiatus. I'm gonna try and work on that.