Proud to be Canadian!

So we're not perfect…

We never claimed to be perfect.
That means we’ve learned to be humble;
We say excuse me and I'm sorry… as well as please and thanks.
Even when its not our fault, we apologize.

Sure one arm of the torch didn't rise,
But when the earthquake struck Haiti,
Canadians raised their hands to say… ”we’ll help.”

And yah, there is a fence around the torch;
But you can walk right up and shake hands with our prime minister and most famous Canadians.

We put Gretzky in the back of a pick up, in the rain, not surrounded by police… and he was okay.
And by the way… The Great One is Canadian… and HE wasn’t complaining!

We do have security at the games, of course, but most people don't even have a gun they have to leave at home.

The medals ARE under lock and key, but our doors and our hearts are open to the world.

It has been pointed out that some buses broke down last week… but let’s not overlook the fact that our banking system didn't.

We didn't get the "green ice maker" right this time… but we will, eventually;
Just like we did when we invented the Zamboni.

Citius, Altius, Fortius

If you don't reach higher, how do you get faster and stronger?

Was the first quad jump perfect?
Should we not have given snowboarding to the world "in case" it didn’t take off?

So big deal… one out of four torch arms didn't rise. Good thing we had 3 more! It’s called contingency planning!

But remember… the Canadarm works every time… in outerspace.
And insulin turned out to be okay.

We couldn't change the weather, but maybe we can help stop to global warming.

We don't have the tax base of the US or the power of the Chinese but, per capita, we ponied up for some pretty kick-ass venues in the worst global recession ever!

Sure, some folks couldn't afford tickets, but our health care is universal.

We have shown the world that we can raise our voices in celebration and song but moments later stand in silence to respect a tragic event… together… spontaneously… and unrehearsed.

What's more, we don't need permission from anyone to have a slam poet, fiddlers with piercings, and a lesbian singer tell our story to the world while our multilingual, female, Haitian-born, black head-of-state shares a box with her first nations equals.

We’ve shown the world that it doesn’t always rain in Vancouver, that you can strive for excellence but not get hung up on perfection… And we’ve learned what it feels like to be picked on by some no-name newspaper guy… and we don’t have to take it lying down!

So the point is not the snow, or the hydraulics, or a couple guys being 5 minutes late to a ceremony.

We know we’re lucky that these are the biggest problems we had to deal with in the last couple weeks.

So take your cheap shots… Guardian newspaper and cynics of the world.

We're bigger and better than that.

What's more, we're finally starting to believe it… I believe!

Do you believe?


Shared via email & facebook, traveling like wildfire. Author unknown.

Oh, & I BELIEVE!!!

Psyched!!!

What a week!!!

Last Friday was a monumental one for many. Even me.
I've been PSYCHED. Both literally, and...well... literally.

I had my last before-the-preop insurance-mandated appointment:
my psych consult. (Da-da-da!!!)
It went brilliantly! The dude was casual, easy-going, relatable, & we discovered we attend the same church (an awesome one, I might add)! It felt more like we carried on a casual, "getting-to-know-you" conversation, which wasn't one sided. Then he took a detailed family tree & went over a general checklist of questions. Looking for support system issues, I suppose. I didn't have to sit on a smarmy couch & tell my deepest, darkest secrets... of which I don't truly have any (that he knows of... Ha!).
But seriously, my issues with food & weight have nothing to do with any repressed issues. I'm fat because I like food. Apparently more than I like myself. That's about to change!!!

But I'm also PSYCHED because the Winter Olympics kicked off last Friday! British Columbia, Canada (& for a handful of years, Vancouver) were home to me for a good part of my life. It's been exhilarating & bittersweet watching the coverage, seeing the sights, sounds, & electricity surrounding Vancouver. I SO wish I could be there. I'm living vicariously through my brother & friends, some who live there & some who are visiting for the festivities.

We, in the US, are shut out of Canadian broadcasting stations, but I was hoping that would lift for the Games. Sadly, it hasn't. So, I've been relying on NBC & affiliate coverage of my homeland's hosting of my favourite Olympics. It's not that NBC doesn't have good coverage, truly, but it's all surrounding the US perspective, of course. I'm missing the Canadian athlete profiles & coverage. I'm rooting for my homeland & the US somewhat interchangeably. I want the US to do well, & love the athletes. (SOOO glad Evan Lysacek kicked arrogant Plushenko's bum in men's skating.)
But when Canada wins a medal, especially a gold, well... my neighbours can probably hear the hooting & hollering and my facebook & twitter accounts light up like a Vegas show!
And there isn't a sport in the Winter Os I don't LOVE watching. Seriously.

I'll give it to NBC, & specifically Tom Brokaw, though. The short piece of journalism that aired just prior to the start of the Opening Ceremonies was poignant & reverent to introduce Canada to a US audience, & the sportscasters have been very gracious about the coverage of Canadian culture & history. As a dislocated Canuck, I'm very appreciative & overjoyed that other nations are getting to witness the beauty & diversity of the land that I love!

Here's that clip by Tom Brokaw:


Blessings,

I'm going to the Olympics!!!

The pairs team of Edward Cullen & Robin McNaueal are vying for Olympic Gold. See them start their journey in the Pairs Short program tonight.

Sneak preview here:

Personalize funny videos and birthday eCards at JibJab!

Isn't my partner handsome? A little pale, yes, but I barely feel the cold with all that spinning. Teehee...

Could You Walk In A Nurse's Shoes?

I came across this article some time back & was meaning to post it.

Nothing seemed like a better time than now, when a TX nurse is fighting for her right to vocalize as an advocate for patients whose physician was working unsafely, after already having been slapped with a warning & fine by the medical board. Thankfully, she's been acquitted of charges, but there's still a debate over whether she had the right to report this physician, which floors me, considering that isn't only her right, but her DUTY as a patient advocate. See some articles about the lawsuit by ABC World News, NPR, & The American Journal of Bioethics.

Finally, here is the writing I found a year or more ago.
As a nurse myself, I encourage you to PLEASE read it & keep it in mind.
And ask yourself: could YOU walk in a nurse's shoes?


Sunday, April 13, 2008
Regina Brett
Plain Dealer Columnist

Patients aren't always satisfied with how well nurses communicate, a recent Medicare survey revealed. Well, nurses had no trouble communicating with me after I defended them Sunday. Nurses from recovery rooms, coronary care, pediatrics, geriatrics, ER and trauma units e-mailed from across the country. Here's what they had to say:

Come walk in our shoes for a 12-hour shift. Come see the joy, the tragedy, the comedy, the 100 ways we are pulled and pushed, then rate my "pleasant greeting," "answers call light in timely fashion," "states name of patient."

Use the bathroom now, because you might not get the chance again until your shift ends. Wear comfortable shoes. Don't worry if they're clean. They'll end up with blood and vomit on them.

We are the patient's advocate, the doctor's eyes and ears and everyone's scapegoat. We can page your doctor, but we can't make the doctors magically appear. We check your stitches, wipe your blood, drain your pus and empty your bedpan.

Nursing is a tough job, but we're tougher. We've been yelled at by administrators, supervisors and doctors. We've been kicked, slapped, punched, spat on and sexually harassed by patients in various states of delirium, mental illness, arrogance and intoxication. We've even had chairs and food trays thrown at us. We work mandatory overtime, weekends and holidays. We eat Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners with co-workers. We deal with families who ignore visiting hours, bring food to patients on restricted diets and insist on staying the night even though it's not a private room. We deal with the son who orders us around to show a parent he's neglected for years that he cares. We cannot be at your side every waking minute. We have 10 other patients. We cannot answer five call lights at once. We can't stop doing CPR on a patient because you ran out of tissues. We are not maids, beauticians or cocktail waitresses. We are professionals with college degrees. We hate that we can't spend more bedside time with you. Swearing at us will not make us move faster. Taking better care of your health would help. Quit smoking. Lose weight. Start exercising. Stop drinking.

How do we survive? We ignore the nasty comments, the demanding relatives, the crazy staffing grids. We count to 10 before speaking. We pray every morning for strength and wisdom, patience and empathy. We drive home tired and frustrated, telling ourselves over and over, "I'm not the nurse I want to be, but I'm the best nurse the hospital staffing allows me to be." We fall asleep praying for the ones who won't survive the night. There is no finish line, ever.

Nursing is demanding and fulfilling, and we can't imagine doing anything else. Nothing beats washing blood and glass off a car crash survivor, stabilizing a broken neck, saving a diabetic's leg, keeping a cancer patient in remission. The day we send a patient home we relish the unbelievable resilience of the human body and spirit. We did not become nurses for the hours, the salary or the glamour of it all. We became nurses to make a difference. We don't ask for much. One sincere thank you makes all the thankless hours worth it.

Catch Regina Brett every Friday at 9 a.m. on WCPN FM/90.3.
To reach Regina Brett: rbrett@plaind.com, 216-999-6328
Previous columns online: http://cleveland.com/brett

Gettin' a Move On...

This week has been a LONG one...
Started with a dietician appointment in which I'd lost ONE stinkin' pound. ONE!?
Okay, it's time to get down to business here. I mean, if I didn't have a problem I wouldn't be contemplating this surgery, right? But still... I need to get serious about being healthy. The band will be my friend. But friends only stick around as long as you're good to them! Time to get out & buy some new tools to help me, like my friend Camille.

Speaking of Camille, it's her birthday today! Happy Birthday, my friend!!!
And, since we're eating more "sensibly," I got you a virtual cake too. I thought of you the second I saw it:



Perhaps, someday (sigh), I'll be wearing shoes like that again. Right now, they'd be sure-fired tools towards my demise...

Speaking of demise, I have my psych consult TOMORROW! I finally made the appointment. Let's just say, I'm excited to get this one over with! He might find me crazier than a loon, but it'll be one more step along this journey.

More to come... but I must drag my bum into the shower & ready myself for a Thursday at work that looks sure to kill me. Sooo many surgeries... aaaarrrgghhhh!

Blessings,
Robin

Regret

We all have some. We're not supposed to dwell in them, however.
Such a dichotomy. Live in the now, but what did we do to bring us to "the now." What can we do better. That's supposed to be self-actualization, right?
I can think of a whole bevy of things.

Twice, in H.S., I got a little full of myself & broke up with my boyfriend thinking I could do better. Twice I regretted it afterward. But H.S. is full of such blunders, right? We're learning who we are & who we're to become.

So, here I am, on the verge of 40. Yes, 40!!! And still with the blunders. And so many regrets. I'm learning to let go & let God. Knowing there's a master plan behind it all both has me feeling comforted & bewildered. And that's where free will comes in.

Ahhh... my blasted free will. I CHOSE where I am today.
How comforting. If only I'd let go & let God SOOO much sooner... ??? Or found me a magical, time-traveling psychotherapist.

That's where "Being Erica" comes in. I discovered this little show on SOAPnet. Don't know how because I have never watched SOAPnet. I have enough fantasy & daydreams living on in my own head, thank you very much.

But "Being Erica" is all about having the ability to go back & undo past regrets. The character can't change "destiny," but does come to some interesting realizations about how things would (or wouldn't) have changed in spite of them.
In the end, it's all about being okay with our own decisions.

What is your biggest regret... & how would you have rewritten things?

The Band Trio

At the prodding of my fellow secret band society (secret for now), I am starting a new blog to track my progress during this venture of (hopeful) liberation. Hence the name of the blog.

Liberation from what? From the me that is so NOT me, & hasn't been me. Not for a long, long time. The me that I am, the angry, unhappy me... the withdrawn me... is tired. Sick. Fed up with being me. Oh, don't worry. Not fed up in the sense of despair.
Quite the opposite.

The me that I am is mounting a coup. She is anxious to be another me. Glimpses of the past, sure... but not unrealistically wanting to regain my misspent youth. Forging ahead to become the me that I've always known I SHOULD be, could be again. If only.

The "if onlys" are the guilt, the blame. If only...
...I was stronger
...I was steadfast
...I had some semblance of willpower
...I wasn't so emotional
...I didn't hate the gym so damn much!

I could go on... & on...

But I won't. The me that I am to become is not going to berate myself anymore for my shortcomings & failures. Yeah right. She's going to try not to do that.

While she's at it, she's not going to talk about herself in the 3rd person anymore either. Deranged AND fat is not what I where I want to start off. Okay, let's not bring my OCD into this.

So, anyhow... here I am, warts & all. SO ready for a change. Laying siege to the self-condemnation. On the cusp of a whole new me. CHARGE!!!