Caution: If you are offended by 'the finger' read no further.....I don't want to offend anyone.




It's no secret that I get lost easily. Something today reminded me of one of my adventures where I got lost in a forest, so thought I'd share the highlights here on my blog.

I like to hike (weather permitting) alone because it centers me. Sometimes that gets me in trouble, because I seem to be missing that 'sense of danger' gene....

Ready?

La-dee-da... a beautiful day in the forest





What to do? Hmmmm, I think I'll go right..





So glad I went this way, beautiful creek.





This tree in the trail won't stop me. I climbed through it. (yeah, I'm smart like that)




Ummm, the trail stopped here. Everywhere I looked, looked just like this. So, I had to retrace my steps. Blahh..



I looked to my left and saw this mossy covered stump. Made me gasp. Scared the heck out of me. Yeah, I wonder why!




Ahhh, there is life here....

(that's a slug, in case you're wondering)

Stupid map.....




So yeah, I obviously found my way out. But this folks, is what it's like to have NO sense of direction. What should have been a one(ish) hour hike ended up being a four hour hike. Trust me, I'm not in shape for four hour hikes.

I'll bet that title got the attention of family and friends.

NO worries friends and family... there'll be no new family members. This contraction reference is in regard to writing.

BJ came to me one day saying that he felt that his intention was often misunderstood when communicating through e-mail. I decided to be straight-up honest with him and told him that I felt it was because his writing came across as sounding mean. After getting that puzzled look, I explained to him that even though I know that he's not upset with me, just the mere fact that he doesn't use contractions makes it seem as if he's annoyed.

I said that this was probably why people often thought he was being mean, and well, condescending. I'm sure I wasn't the only one who thought this after reading an otherwise innocent e-mail. Only, I know better because he's never condescending to me in person. Some of these people have never talked with him in person, only via e-mail.

I guess he must have shared what I said with a few people at work because he forward this email to me:

"Thanks! I noticed you used a contraction in your e-mail. The wife must be getting through to you!"

Yup. Must be....

I had to get some lab work done today. I've become quite good at this. I know which arm is best and the approximate spot where they'll hit pay dirt. I'm one of those 'hard to draw blood from' types.

The last thing I want to hear is something that I heard today; "Hello, I'm a student, is it OK if I draw your blood today?"


I told him that I'd be a good learning experience for him, and go ahead and have at it. I then told him where he'd have the most luck in finding the elusive vein.

Poke poke... sweat ... poke poke... dig... sigh.....

"Uh, I h" (he started to say "I HOPE") "I am sure we'll find it."

I laughed and said, "you'd better work on those thought bubbles. That one almost popped. You almost said hope".

After a little nervous laughter on his end, more of the poke poke... dig dig.. sweat sweat.

Eventually he got the vein and was able to draw the three viles he needed.

Afterward he said, "I'm surprised you caught me almost say the word hope".

I replied, "I'm a good listener."

Heh. Lucky me with the good listening skills.

If you've been reading my blog for long, you'll know that I'm sort of obsessed with my hair. I will not tolerate bad hair on myself. I've had bad hair for four days in a row.

Houston, we have a problem.

If I have one bad hair day, I assume it's a glitch. Usually what I'll do to make it behave is wear my hair curly for a couple of days, then go back to flattening it out. My hair hardly ever looks bad when it's curly. This time it did.

Since I got my last cut only four weeks ago, I decided to do my own trim yesterday. I dunno, I have a hard time shelling out the do-re-mi (especially what I pay) only four weeks later. Six weeks? Yeah, I'll buy into that. Four weeks? Nope, because then I'll be off schedule for the foils. I refuse to have the foil and cut done on separate visits. Hmmmm, I'm starting to sound high maintenence.

The one good thing about curly hair is that even if I did botch it, it's hard to tell. Another thing in my favor is that I'm a beauty school dropout (yeah, go ahead and sing the song... everyone else does) so I do an OK job. I never try to touch the back of my head though... that would be insane. No need to picture a mullet folks, I only trim up the top and take some of the bulk out of the sides. I leave the length alone.

So BJ and I were out yesterday running errands and enjoying the sunshine after the do-it-myselfer trim. He looked over and said, "your hair looks really cute today".

Now why do I pay $140.00? Oh yeah, that's right.. so she can get the back of my hair.

Yesterday was my first day to make calls on behalf of Hospice. Before we're set free to make calls on our own, we have to make calls in front of the bereavement counselor. I was nervous even though I'd had hours of training on top of all of my Hospice experience. I knew I'd be fine when alone, but there's something about being listened to by a pro that scares me. It sort of reminded me of how nervous I used to get at my piano recitals.

I had twelve years of piano lessons and was used to playing in front of large crowds at county fairs, malls, restaurants, etc., but the piano recitals always got to me. I hated them because I knew I'd be playing in front of professionals.

The counselor handed me my first case file. I looked it over and read the history of the patient and looked for any notes written by the Hospice workers to see if there was anything that might be an issue. There were notes in the file about an emotionally unstable family member, and I brought that to the counselor's attention. She asked if I felt comfortable in making the call, or if I wanted to move on to something less complicated. I decided to go ahead and make the calls.

My first call was to the wife of the deceased. As I pushed the buttons on the phone, I felt very unsure of myself. What if I screw this up? What if I say something stupid? This woman has lost her husband, and I take that responsibility seriously.

She answered the phone and I told her my name and told her that I was a volunteer with [name of my Hospice org] Hospice. My first mission is to ask if she's received the mailings and ask if she had any questions about them. Then there is a list of things that I need to try to work into the conversation to get a feel for where she is in the grieving process and how she's doing in general. It needs to be conversational, so it doesn't sound like we're going through a checklist.

About two minutes into the conversation, I relaxed. This was a lovely sounding 84 year old woman who was so happy to hear from me. She shared with me how her life has been since the death of her husband and I listened. I suddenly quit being a Hospice volunteer, and resumed my normal personna as a listener. As I was listening to her talk, I'd look over at the counselor every now and again just to get confirmation that I was saying the right things. She kept mouthing "wow" as the conversation got longer and longer. I ended up talking to this wonderful lady for almost a half an hour and I could tell in the end that it was good for her to talk to someone. It was good for me too, because I felt like I was doing something important.

After I hung up the phone, the counselor told me that it was an excellent call and that I sounded very affirming and caring. She said that she was impressed that this lady shared so much with me. Normally, the calls are maybe 10 minutes long. Mine was a half an hour.

Next was the son. It was unclear whether I was calling a cell phone, work phone, or home phone, so I was nervous about that. I planned in my head what I'd say if it was work, because certainly I don't want to put someone in a position of talking about their grief while at work. Fortunately it was his home, and he was there. Again, my nervousness melted away as I talked to him and I just became me, and listened just as I would to anyone in my own life. This call was a bit more complicated, and it had to do with the unstable family member. He shared with me that this family member has been emotionally abusive to their mother and to him. He was also worried about his mother's physical safety. I was writing notes to the counselor as he was telling me this information so she could help me in what to say to him. We ended up writing notes back and forth while he talked to me and I would pass along information that the counselor wanted me to share with him. Eventually, I asked him if it would be OK for her to call him next week so she could help them with the situation. He was grateful for that offer. This call lasted 20 minutes.

Again, the counselor told me that this is not the norm. That I shouldn't expect that people will be talking to me and giving me all of this information. Apparently she doesn't know my reputation.

That is all the time I had alloted myself, because I was basically using my lunch hour (+) to do this last bit of my training. I will be going in on Saturdays to make the calls as soon as they can get the logistics worked out.

It felt good. Really good. I was so energized after this hour and felt once again that this is what I am supposed to be doing with my life. Whether it's as a grief volunteer or maybe later as a professional grief counselor, I know for certain that this is what I'm supposed to be doing.