The unfortunate events that lead to Otto's premature balding.

Otto and I love to visit Washington. Otto calls it his "happy place." If you have ever been there, it's not hard to see why. This time of year happens to be my favorite, because the wheat has started to grow, and the fields everywhere are a deep, beautiful green color. My parents home is surrounded by pine trees and rolling green hills. You rarely hear anything but the croaking of frogs in the summertime, and the falling of rain. And the stars achieve a brightness that anyone who lives in the city has only experienced on rare camping trips. It really is a peaceful, charming, wonderful, calming, relaxing, beautiful... happy place. And for me, it will always be home.

Of course nature has a way of keeping score. Like life, there must be challenges and trials associated with any level of beauty. For Otto, that trial seems to be losing different pieces of his scalp in continuously increasing amounts with each trip. For us as a family, it seems to be racking up as many injuries and trips to the ER as is humanly possibly. Allow me to illustrate:

In October we visited the farm. We had been there less than 24 hours when fate attempted to force me to chop off my finger with my mother's extremely sharp kitchen knife. We of course, went to the Emergency Room where the doctor poured a bunch of superglue into my finger, charged me several hundred dollars (as Emergency Room doctors so graciously do) and sent me on my way. One beautiful scar later and I am as good as new. In December, we again visited the farm, and Otto ran headlong into a cupboard that was very unfortunately built into the kitchen wall and spent the next hour moaning on the floor while I wiped up a few drops of blood and examined the dent in his skull.

In April, we again visited the farm. Not to be outdone by the last two times, Otto (while holding up a future living room wall while my very talented amateur building father nailed it together) received a 2x6 to the head which blew straight INTO his head from a 12 foot ceiling structure above him when a 30 mph wind picked up.

One thing you must know about my talented but amateur building father is that he is a man of many trades. He is also a farmer who was raised with the attitude "If you are still conscious, you are probably fine." Even if you lose consciousness, that point may still be debatable. I likewise, was raised with the same attitude. And then I became an ICU nurse. Poor Otto was doomed from the start if he ever wanted a sympathetic woman to share his life with.

So, it was not surprising when my father's first thought when the board gracefully passed over his head and completely creamed my husband's was, "Oh I hope he doesn't drop my wall!"

Otto was as brave and strong as any aspiring farm boy could hope to be. After leaving his bloody mark to forever stay on the living room wall of my parents dream home, he hobbled home, and there I found him sitting on the kitchen floor, with blood matted through his hair and half way down his head. After rinsing him off in the bathroom sink, and pulling out several chunks of scalp and hair in the process, I gave him a few advil, and very sympathetically went to book club with my mother.

Upon arriving home, the continuation of bleeding coming from his noggin suggested the need for another expensive trip to the emergency room. But fate couldn't get me down, oh no. I went to four years of brutal school and had five years of training in an ICU that often sent me home feeling more beat up than Otto's head. No ER bill for me Colfax Washington, not this time! You will not win!

Of course when it finally stopped bleeding long enough for me to pull it apart and realize that even with a flashlight I could not see the depth of it, I started to suspect that my dad's previous suggestion of "just let it scab over by morning" was not wise. (And then I thought, "Why am I listening to him anyway??? He tried to kill my husband!!") So I did what any poor calloused ICU nurse wife would do. I poured rubbing alcohol down it to make absolute SURE that no infection could survive, and then I super glued his head back together.

Here are the before and after pictures: 

So now, I have saved our family another 750 dollars to put towards our hundreds of thousands of dollars of debt we are about to incur. Otto has a charming bald spot where he was recently scalped, and an awesome scar for posterity to know how tough and awesome he is. I'd say it was a win all around.

So Fate: 2, Emily: 1. I can't wait for our next trip to Washington to see what I can glue back together to even the score once and for all.

And I'm not going to lie and say I didn't enjoy it just a little. Sorry Otto... someday you can practice stitches on me.

Back in the Saddle

Right out of school, I knew I wanted to be an ICU nurse. It wasn't a decision that came easily, but once it came, it stuck. Like, forever.

For three years I battled day shifts, night shifts, weekend shifts, Christmas shifts away from my family, and everything else that comes with the brutality of medical schedules. I prayed almost constantly that I wouldn't kill anyone, and I sometimes had to keep glancing at my badge that said "RN" all the way into work, and then all the way through my shift to remind myself that I was capable of handling the responsibilities I had. After about a year, my confidence increased, and so did my exhaustion. I remember distinctly one day, listening to a friend tell me all about his hiking adventures from the weekend, and all I could think of was, "I wonder if I'll ever have enough energy to want to go hiking again." After three years I had come a long way in my career. I was now a charge nurse, and running my own regional committee centered around patient safety and involving managers of all regional ICUs. I loved it, but I decided that it was time to bring it to an end, and do something a little more "family friendly" in preparation for my upcoming marriage. So, I switched to Home Health, and left behind the ICU and all of it's memories and experiences. One of my dear friends, a nurse practitioner on the unit wrote on my goodbye card, "When you get bored, we'll still be here." I laughed and told her that wouldn't happen.

About two weeks into my home health career, I came home and told Otto that 9-5 was heaven, and I did not miss the physical, emotional and mental drain of the crazy, hectic, holding people's lives in your hands, ICU.

Two weeks after that to my surprise, and for the remainder of the year, I spent all of my time longing to be back in the throws of the chaos and the challenge, and the craziness.

Nine months later, with all the courage I could muster, I went and spoke with my old manager, hoping she wouldn't hate me for leaving previously. To my relief, she was glad to hire me back PRN, which was perfect since I was expecting a baby four months later. After jumping through several hoops, I walked back through those doors in my green scrubs, nearly a year after I had left and immediately felt I had come home.

I was overwhelmed by the response from coworkers, who at least pretended to be as glad to see me as I was to see them. It almost felt as though I were attending a party with old friends instead of being at work. I relished every second. I came home feeling that old familiar feeling that I had been run over by a bus. Ah it felt good!

Now I am signed up for just two shifts a month, often times I only work one of those, based on the census of the unit. Today at work I was told that I could start charging again when I was needed to cover for a charge nurse. How unfair is it, that I get to have it all? All the glories and experiences of my old job, with only enough shifts a month to make it fun? Most importantly, I get to do what I love OCCASIONALLY, so I can do what I love MOST (taking care of my sweet baby) full time? How unfair is it that I get the best of both worlds? Life is so grand.

So here are a few pictures (old as they may be) of life on the unit:

Although these pictures may appear as though life in the ICU is leisurely, there is a reason why I only have four pictures from the last four years. In the ICU I sometimes work 13 hours without stopping to eat. I clean up every body fluid you can think of. I get kicked, punched, spit on, slapped, and yelled at. I mop up blood, perform chest compressions, and manage several life support machines at once. I help people live, and I watch people die. I hold hands of frightened patients and family members. I teach every opportunity I get.

And I love it. I don't do it full time anymore. Crash carts and IVs are second place now, and my stethoscope and badge have to be dusted off from time to time. This is because first and foremost, I was born to be a mother.

Second to that, I was born to be an ICU nurse. Today I worked 2 1/2 hours, and then came home to hold my baby. I'll work one more time this month while his daddy spends the day with him, and spend every other minute with him. It really isn't fair... I have everything I ever wanted. Life just couldn't be much better than this.

We're going to Medical School!!! (Again)

My beautiful chart has been destroyed. Tragic really.

It just so happens, that after MONTHS of researching into the early hours of the morning, HOURS of carefully examining the pros and cons of every aspect of every medical school in the country, and after several hours of bribing, coaxing and encouraging Otto to press submit on the 22 schools we had finally decided on......

He panicked the day of a major deadline, and added five more.

There really were two tragedies involved here:

#1- There was no room on my poster board for five more schools

#2- My alphabetical order is now totally thrown off.

Luckily, I am a flexible person. After some careful planning and extreme creativity, not to mention flawless skill at resurrecting potential disaster.....
our chart now looks like this:

Albert Einstein, (NY), Case Western (Ohio), University of Kentucky, University of Pittsburgh, University of Wisconsin (Apparently Otto REALLY wants to live in Wisconsin). 

I am told this is the final final FINAL list. However, there is another deadline coming up on November 15th. Luckily, you can't fool me twice, and I left room at the end, just in case. But if he adds more than two and a half more, he'll be in trouble with me. Our front door is only so big you know!!!

So far we have secondary requests from 11 of 27 schools. Here's to hoping!!!!

We're going to Medical School!!!!

Last Thursday, October 13th, 2011, Otto submitted applications to medical school. While it felt like that submit button was a long time in coming, looking back at the last year, it is really quite amazing what he has accomplished.

Last October at this time Otto was submitting applications to MBA programs. In the course of one short year, he made a decision, took 9 core science pre-requisites and respective labs, built up dozens of hours in shadowing, volunteering, research, and leadership in every club on campus. In addition, he studied for, and took the MCAT, and somehow had time for his wife and brand new baby. Ten months after a final decision was made, he put in his applications. Who does that? Who pulls that off? My Otto.

So here we are... living the charmed life. And it hasn't been for a lack of hard work, challenge, fatigue, doubt and fear. None of that is close to over; in fact we're diving into the deep part, head first. But the charmed part comes from overcoming all of that together, and looking forward to great challenging things ahead.

This week I created a fun way for us to track our progress. It also seems to be a necessary part because keeping track of 22 schools and a 5 step process is quite the challenge. Our living room decor has now changed slightly to include:

The process is long and consists of several components including Primary and Secondary applications, interviews, etc. Matriculation rate to any given school averages about 1% of total applications.

It's incredibly competitive, as it should be. Now we can only trust the many evidences we have that we have been directed this route, and that we will end up where we are supposed to end up.

That doesn't mean it isn't fun to speculate...

Choosing 22 out of 130 something schools was one of the most difficult time consuming process I have ever been through. At the end of the day, here is our final list: (If you can't read it above)
1. Boston University
2. Drexel University (in PA)
3. Hoffstra University (in NY)
4. Loma Linda University (in CA)
5. Medical College of Wisconsin
6. New York Medical College
7. Northwestern University (Chicago)
8. Oakland University (Michigan)
9. Rosalind Franklin University (Chicago)
10. Tulane University (New Orleans, Louisiana)
11. University of Arizona (Phoenix)
12. University of Arizona (Tucson)
13. University of California LA (UCLA)
14. University of California SF (UCSF)
15. University of Cincinatti
16. University of Indiana
17. University of Maryland
18. University of Minnesota
19. University of Utah
20. University of Washington
21. Virginia Tech Carilion
22. Wakeforest University (North Carolina)

So please weigh in, where do YOU think we will be in a year? (Vote on the poll to your right!)