Disclaimer – If you are grossed out by medical stuff, skip this post. I keep it pretty clean, but it still might make some people feel queasy.
It’s a word you hear a lot in nursing school. It’s the key to passing the nursing boards. It takes years of experience to really make those judgements with aplomb, and even then, you can walk in for a shift and things start getting thrown at you that make those decisions for you.
At work, we shake our heads when we come across a patient or family who ignored stroke symptoms, or difficulty walking, or a deteriorating mental state, for weeks before seeking medical care. By then symptoms that might have been relieved with prompt treatment are now a dire situation, and options are more limited.
In reality, we are making medical judgements about our families and ourselves all the time, although for most of us the consequences aren’t as grim. Does that cough merit a trip to the pediatrician? Is that knock on the head something serious? Do I really need to schedule a physical, or could I go another year? I feel fine!
(Photo Credit: Kimona Paramour Photography)
I only work once every two weeks. Since most people at my job work every other weekend, I see the same group almost every Friday night. When I work an extra shift, like I did this past weekend, I see people I sometimes haven’t seen in 6 months or more.
The nurse I was getting report from hadn’t seen me in at least that long. I’d been pregnant with number seven the last time we’d crossed paths.
She gave me a once over and commented that I’d lost a lot of weight. It didn’t sound like a compliment. Then, she asked if I’d had a boy or a girl.
Social media has always been a struggle for me. I imagine millennials have an easier time of it. Computers weren’t even part of my life until I was an older kid. I learned to type chatting with my friends in high school on AOL IM.
I actually met strangers in chat rooms, one of whom became a snail mail pen pal who I corresponded with for years, exchanging letters and mixed tapes.
I remember hearing about Facebook when it was invite-only for college students.
Years ago, I got my first raincoat as an adult. I was shopping with my mom and it was light blue.
I never really loved it. It felt too heavy when it was warm, and not warm enough for a cold rain. I kept for several years and finally donated it so that I could find one I liked better.
Since then, I have purchased many different parkas and raincoats trying to find the perfect one. A green one with black polka dots. A blue with white polkadots. A pink and greige one with a pretty, multicolored tie on the zipper but sleeves that were just a little too short. A gently used, expensive yellow one from eBay that ended up being worn around the collar and wasn’t waterproof anymore (which was NOT mentioned in the listing). A brown one that folded up into its own pocket. A blue parka. A shiny iridescent raincoat that I overpaid for on a third party website since it was out of stock with the manufacturer, and then ended up not being what I thought it was going to be. A black one on super sale from the Nat Geo website. A cute vintage red parka a blogger featured. And none of those is counting the cool green parka my dad made when he was younger for my mom, which got passed on to me.
Now, let’s talk about the weather where I live.
(Photo Credit: Kimona Paramour Photography)
As parents, we like to eye roll and commiserate about our failings as parents.
We made an elaborate lunch to trick our toddler into eating vegetables. Not only won’t he eat it, he later finds and raids your Super Secret Stash of Snickers, leaving a trail chocolate smears and wrappers through the house.
You forget to check to see what your kid is wearing before they leave for something and find out too late they are wearing something wildly inappropriate for the occasion or the weather.
The kids learn something about life from your behavior that you didn’t intend to teach them and then share it in public at the worst time.
But nobody is dying. No one’s life is in danger.
We wear those kind of fails as badges of honor, a series of moments where we glorify in the funny, embarrassing times when our kids shine a light on our humanity.
It’s harder to talk about the times when we actually mess up.
