tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84266649622863803032024-03-13T19:57:31.554-07:00Blah-dee Blah Blah Blah-dee Blah Blah BlogA whole lotta fun, with a ton of sass, and a smidge of controversy--that would be my blog. ;) I take the run-of-the-mill daily things that life deals out, and I put a little spin on them...called MY OPINION. Just something to grab a cup of coffee, and relax to. Heck...sometimes I might even make you laugh (don't drink the coffee during these moments...I'm not responsible if you spew coffee out of your nose). Also, please visit www.etsy.com/shop/arcticbarbiegirl to view my online art gallery.Blah-dee Blah Blah Blah-dee Blah Blah Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270433511823901795noreply@blogger.comBlogger220125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426664962286380303.post-27874060297061658202023-03-07T04:45:00.003-08:002023-03-07T04:45:25.975-08:00<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7eRnqydEDhTvOYFSaVGYszQuq9eQZuU6AuRRn28ntQh3T2Ko_xCMiJLlWC8Qq8TwQiPHgziocAPPWyRA6ruaKZ_siHU_xY4AFc3TKqF1y9T0YefPPZW2yqlakmQBqACZKSaSQUXW0MnX_UJhtE_SJKc-soHm_vw01KzfPP_JNmeHpTMKZ9saQsDfhSA/s630/Stunts.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="630" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7eRnqydEDhTvOYFSaVGYszQuq9eQZuU6AuRRn28ntQh3T2Ko_xCMiJLlWC8Qq8TwQiPHgziocAPPWyRA6ruaKZ_siHU_xY4AFc3TKqF1y9T0YefPPZW2yqlakmQBqACZKSaSQUXW0MnX_UJhtE_SJKc-soHm_vw01KzfPP_JNmeHpTMKZ9saQsDfhSA/s320/Stunts.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">Guess who's back? Back again. Whitney's back. Tell a friend.</div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">JK. Enough Eminem.</div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">But I AM back!!! I haven't blogged in years. For those who have just tripped over this blog, or who have entered, or re-entered my world in the past few years, HI. My name is Whitney. I am a comedy blogger. Or just a regular blogger--depends on the day. </div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">Re-entry into the blog world for me is both sentimental, and nostalgic. I find writing very therapeutic. I also find my life relatively entertaining. It is also periodically embarrassing. I find joy in exploiting both of those aspects of my life and airing them out to the public for your entertainment. </div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">As some of you know, I made the career move to start travel nursing just a little over a year ago. I love what I do as a nurse, but I got tired of the corporate politics, and the garbage that came with being a staff nurse. I was tired of the chronic understaffing. I was sick and tired of being hauled into the "principal's office" and being told that I was going to be punished for not taking my breaks--only, we were chronically short-staffed with no one to break me. I was told that it was my job to find someone to break me, but, as luck would have it, I don't know how to make competent nurses materialize out of thin air to give breaks. I kind of suck that way as a normal human. </div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">Then Covid hit. We were then chronically short-staffed, and up in the face of a deadly virus. I finally decided to pull the plug and play the travel nurse card. No more staff meetings. No more trips to the principal's office to be reprimanded for slave labor working. I was done. ✌ OH...and big money.</div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">OFF TO THE WORLD OF TRAVEL NURSING!!!</div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">I took my first travel nursing contract in San Jose, California. It was awesome. I loved it. I got to learn new things. I made new friends. I got to travel and see some amazing new things. I took trips to Monterey, and Carmel. I was making a ridiculous amount of money for all of my (ahem) trouble. Some people say, "When God closes a door, somewhere He opens a window." Uh, NO. God slammed that door on staff nursing (and put some stank on it...with a Z-snap), and He opened a tunnel for a freight train--and breathed life back into my nursing career. I am very grateful. </div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">My second travel contract was in Sacramento, California. I was still in the process of figuring out how I wanted to go about housing, and having a vehicle for my contract. I decided to drive up to SAC, leave my car there, rent a place that specifically catered to travel nurses, and then fly home on my days off, and rent a car when I go back down to L.A. </div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">Hindsight is 20/20, but I look back on those poor choices and wonder what I was actually thinking. I rented a room in a 4-bedroom house, with 3 other travel nurses. The house was lovely. The nurses were not tidy. AND...I had to share a bathroom.</div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"> I feel like you reach an age where that really shouldn't even be a thing. Like, I am at that age. </div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">Anyway, I am setting the scene for how I ended up in Sacramento, and subsequently breaking my face in a stupid/rogue accident. Hence the title of this blog, "I DO ALL MY OWN STUNTS".</div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">It was pretty epic,</div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">A little history. I am a klutz. I blame the fact that I have these crazy long legs, and a short torso. Some people who know me are probably like, "Your legs are GOALS!!!" Even my children say that. However, they are SO LONG, and my torso is SO SHORT (like, Bambi gets me). I am this tall girl who gets into cars, and then can barely see over the steering wheel. When I was dating my ex-husband, I borrowed his car one day, a mutual friend saw me driving down the road, and told him that a 10-year old had stolen his vehicle. I can't make this 💩 up.</div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">I digress...</div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">So...I was staying up in SAC. I am a night shift nurse. My days/nights are never normal. I am constantly trying to live in two worlds--day, and night. Consequently, something's got to give. I have tossed around the idea of becoming a day shift nurse, but it is hard to want to. The pay is less. AND...there is a very different vibe between the day shift nurse, and the night shift nurse. Hard to explain, but it's a real thing. Anyway...</div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">So, I was up in SAC. I had this trip to Napa Valley planned on my days off. I booked and amazing resort. I had wine tasting on the brain. I was READY!!!</div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">Because I work nights, it means that I get off of work on my day off. I usually leave work by 7:30am or 8am. I go home. I shower. I nap. Then I try to get up so I actually can enjoy some of my day off. However, on that day, your sleep is off. You run on short sleep. Then, because you napped, when normal sleep time comes, you aren't tired. You are wired to stay up almost all night.</div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">I set my alarm that night (actually, early morning...because I can't sleep like normal people!!!). I set my alarm for 12:30pm. I figured that would give me enough time to wake up, get ready and drive the 1.5 hours to Napa. Hotel check-in was at 3:00pm. My alarm went off at 12:30pm. I was super tired. I got up, knew I needed to pack, and walked into the bathroom. That was the last thing I remember. </div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">I woke up, face-down on the bathroom floor, in a puddle of blood. I was in my PJs. I had my UGG slippers on. I had no idea what had happened. </div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">Being the ridiculous person that I am, when I finally came to, I was like, "Holy shit! This is a huge mess! I have to clean this up!" I quickly stood up, looked in the mirror, saw my bottom lip hanging off my face, checked to make sure I had all of my teeth, cleaned up the floor, folded up the bathroom rug (which looked like a crime scene piece of evidence), and then wadded up a piece of toilet paper, tucked it into my mouth to absorb the blood, and then decided I needed to go back to bed.</div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">K. I am a nurse. This whole scenario sounds so crazy to me now, but this was the scenario, nonetheless. In case you haven't figured it out yet, I WAS CONCUSSED. I was not making good decisions. If Nurse Whitney could have spoken to Face-On-The-Floor Whitney, she would be like, "Um, Sis, that was a poor choice. You could've died. And stop trying to clean everything up for your roommates--like, you have bigger fish to fry." But Floor Whitney and Nurse Whitney had morphed into two different humans that day. </div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">I want to stop for a brief intermission here. I can read your thoughts. You've probably drifted off to your wicked CSI and Dateline skills. Probably like, "Oh, she must have been drinking/been drunk." </div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">First of all, I am bumping my head on 50. I enjoy alcohol. However, I am also a control freak. I also hate the idiocy of drunk people, so I try to never aspire to be like them. </div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">Fun drinking?...YAY!!! </div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">Drinking to get drunk completely wasted?...LAME. </div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"> I was also running on short sleep, trying to flip/flop my days and nights, and trying to get to Napa in zombie mode that day.</div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">BACK TO THE STORY!</div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">I tucked TP (of all things) into my face to stop the bleeding, and went back to bed (fully concussed). My lip was still hanging off my face in my slumber. It's times like these that you must know that it's just not your time to die. Like, I probably should've died. But God was like, "Nope!...girl...you have a trip to Napa!!!" #thankyoujesus</div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">I woke up (3 hours later). I picked up my phone. TP in my mouth. I texted my boyfriend. I said, "I fell. Lip hanging off face. It's not good." Then I drifted off again. </div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">I woke up to him calling me. While I was on the phone with him, I was fading in and out. I didn't know anyone up in SAC, and my roommates were not home. He was like, "Can you take an Uber?" I said, "I don't think so." Then I went back to sleep.<br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">My poor boyfriend. First of all, I am in long distance relationship. I am dating an Alaskan. We have been (on-and-off) for nearly 14 years (mostly on). Imagine getting this information from 2,500 miles away, and how helpless you would feel as the partner, not knowing how to help.</div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">My boyfriend contacted emergency services--only emergency services in Alaska is no help in Sacramento, California. Also, I am kind of a shitty girlfriend, because I didn't give him the address of where I was staying in Sacramento--you know...on the off chance you wake up one day, and break your face on the floor at the house you are staying at for travel nursing.</div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">He finally was able to go through emergency services in Alaska to then get transferred to emergency services in California. Then he had to keep me awake on the phone long enough to get the code for the front door of the house for emergency services to rescue me. It was a successful mission.</div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">The ambulance came and picked me up. I was in my PJs. I had bare feet (a cute pedi and toe rings, though). Lip still hanging off my face. They told me how busy all the area hospitals were. They turfed me to the one I actually was working at. I was still loopy as hell. Still had no idea what happened to me. Because I was considered "stable", they had no room in the ED and sent me to the waiting room.<br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">The waiting room was a cluster of crazy. One woman freaking out because she wanted pain meds stronger than Tylenol. Homeless people left and right. One guy, sitting next to me, dripping blood everywhere after taking a drug elevated joy ride on his skateboard. I was like, "I have entered the seventh circle of hell."</div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">I was in my blood-stained PJs. The ambulance took me in my bare feet, so I ended up with a pair of yellow "fall risk" grippy socks from the hospital. I felt totally mocked at that point. As a healthcare worker, it's an F-you, with a crescendo, "F-YOU!!!...YELLOW GRIPPY SOCKS FOR YOU!!!" LOL! </div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">They finally took me back to the ED. I felt so bad for the doc. Because of my concussion, I had been puking on the way in. Then the blood in my mouth. I'm sure I had death breath as this poor doc was sewing up my face. And he had to sew...DEEP. I ripped that mo-fo from the bottom of my jaw all the way up to my lip. He sewed on the inside, and the outside of my face/mouth.</div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">My CT Scan came back negative, even though I was loopy as fuck. It was a bad day. AND I HAD A TRIP TO NAPA PLANNED (priorities)!!!</div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">I got discharged from the ED. I had no car. I was still in blood-stained PJs. No shoes. Yellow "fall risk" grippy socks. I looked like the progeny of a murderer who hooked up with a homeless person. Definitely NOT my finest moment.</div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">I walked out the doors of the ED. The lobby was still jam packed. People were waiting outside the doors. Made me glad I wasn't and ER nurse. </div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">I walked over to one of the stone benches, sat down. Then I tried to summon an Uber. </div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">As I was sitting there, a guy walked up to me. He said, "Hey, you got a light?" I looked up from my phone. He saw my broken face, He said, "Oh, I am so sorry, are you ok?" I said, "Yes. But I don't have a light." He said, "I am so sorry...I hope you have a blessed day." </div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">Thanks...but...too late.</div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">Then the Uber came. I have taken a lot of Ubers in my life. This was BY FAR the most humiliating. Blood-stained PJs. Hospital grippy socks. I felt so bad for the driver. He got a huge tip. I had to redeem my humiliation somehow.</div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">He dropped me off at the house I was staying at. Concussed Whitney brain said, "You need to put stain remover on the bathroom rugs and throw them in the laundry to get rid of the blood!!!"</div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">Like, why wouldn't that have been my first priority?...I serve people for a living. My roommates are pigs. Forget the fact that I am concussed with a broken face--we gotta Martha Stuart those bathroom rugs, or somebody is not going to have a place to dry their feet!!! Story of life.</div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">Then I called the hotel I was supposed to be staying at that night in Napa. I had reserved two nights. They told me if I didn't come that night, before midnight, that I would lose my reservation. I had pre-paid. The money would be lost.</div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">What do you do when you have a trip to Napa planned, sustain a concussion, don't know you have a concussion, your face looks like a sewing project in home ec, but the hotel is threatening to cancel your reservation?...YOU DRIVE TO NAPA!!!!</div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">My packing strategy was probably not the best for this trip. I did the best I could. The whole day was pretty much a blur. I also hadn't eaten all day, and it was getting late. My teeth felt messed up. I didn't know if I could chew. I decided to go through the only drive thru I saw open--which was Carl's Jr. I have literally never eaten there before. I ordered french fries to try to suck on/eat on the way to Napa. Concussed logic is always the best logic. LOL.</div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">As I was driving through to the drive thru window, the guy opened up the window, told me my total, looked at my face, and said, " Ma'am...are you ok?...like...are you safe at home?" Literally one of the sweetest humans, LIKE EVER. I felt like saying, "Yeah, I did this shit to myself, and like--stone-cold sober. I'll be here all week. I'm just super talented."</div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">I drove to Napa that night. Boyfriend wasn't going to be able to join me on that trip, originally, but he ended up taking an overnight flight down to SAC, and then Ubering to Napa to meet me. He is the sweetest. Not exactly how I had planned that trip to go. </div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">Not sure if you can get a DUI for being concussed without knowing you are concussed. BUT DAMMIT....WE MADE IT TO WINE COUNTRY!!! And before they cancelled my resort reservation. 😂</div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">Boyfriend took me back to the house up in SAC after our trip to Napa. We were doing our forensic research to try to figure out how I broke my face. Turns out, the transition to the bathroom was not nailed down properly. It came up 2 inches when you hit it the right way. It must have been my lucky day in my night shift daze. </div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">From what we can guess, my slipper hit it, got wedged, I fell forward, hit my chin/face on the vanity, and then hit my head on the tub to seal the deal...and that is the story. Pretty lame. I've tried to kill myself way harder and in way more unique ways in this life--the cliff jumping in Kauai was the MVP. Next time I will try to go bigger 😂.</div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">Face full of stitches and 3 root canals later (and potentially braces in my future)...I am still here. Oh. And I do all my own stunts. </div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="background-color: #f3fdfe; clear: both; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">BUT WE MADE IT TO NAPA!!! </div><div class="separator" style="background-color: #f3fdfe; clear: both; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;">😂🍷</div><br style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px;" /><div style="background-color: #f3fdfe; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="background-color: #f3fdfe; clear: both; color: #757575; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Blah-dee Blah Blah Blah-dee Blah Blah Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270433511823901795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426664962286380303.post-88076937237042515832017-12-06T01:41:00.002-08:002017-12-09T03:09:48.930-08:00Do The Lump Dee Lump...A Breast Cancer Scare Blog<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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IT'S THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR!!!</div>
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Or...at least I thought it was. Until I found <b><i><u>IT</u></i></b>.</div>
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I had flown home this past month for Thanksgiving with my family. There was nothing out of the ordinary about that--I fly home monthly. I flew into Denver the afternoon of Thanksgiving. I picked up my twins at their grandmother's house, and then checked into our hotel room at the Sheraton (our home away from home when I am in Denver). </div>
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I was exhausted. By the time we were settled into the hotel room that night, I had two kids that were full of turkey, and I hadn't eaten since about 11:00 a.m. that day. I ordered room service, had a quick bite to eat, and went to sleep.</div>
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I woke up the next day, and hit the mall for a few things that were not at all Black Friday related. It was mostly items to stock the fridge at the hotel so that my teenage wolverines didn't chew their own legs off in hunger. I went to the gym. I did my normal cardio workout. Then I went over and worked on my abs. I broke that up with my normal weight lifting routine for my arms/back/chest. By the time I got done, I was feeling it. I thought it might have something to do with traveling from sea level in California, up to nearly 7,500ft elevation in the foothills of Colorado and working out. </div>
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When I returned back to the hotel room, I massaged my muscles. I massaged my arms, neck, and upper chest to loosen things up. It was at that time that my hand came to a screeching halt.</div>
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My eyes shifted back and forth for a bit. I pursed my lips and made a, "hmmmm..." sound. Then I ran my hand over my upper chest again. This time, my heart sank a little.</div>
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I found...a lump. The one thing that no woman wants to find on her chest (unless she pays for strategic augmentation that feels more like a water balloon to enhance her "beauty").</div>
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DAMMIT.</div>
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My heart sank. I now had a lump in my throat, too. My hand was right at the top of my breast tissue on my right side--right where I could feel my upper ribs start, and breast tissue end. </div>
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I immediately went into the loo and did a complete examination of both sides of my chest. I am fairly good at remembering periodically that I am supposed to be doing routine breast examinations, but it had been months--and now I had something that I had never felt before...and it was BIG (3 finger widths). However, to give myself credit, I think I'm better at remembering to do semi-routine breast examinations than I am at remembering to go in for an annual GYN examination. It's horrible to admit--especially since, not only am I a nurse, but I'm a nurse in WOMEN'S HEALTH!! Ugh. I kill me sometimes. I think my last GYN exam was in 2011 when I got sterilized. Super horrible to admit. I could've died from cervical cancer like 8 times by now. It's ridiculous. BUT...we all know that nurses are the worst at taking care of themselves health care-wise. Stating fact--not making excuses.</div>
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I checked both sides of my chest so that I had a bilateral comparison of normal vs abnormal--and I definitely had something that didn't match the other side that was going on. My heart sank into my stomach...again.</div>
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"Dear God--please don't let it be cancer."</div>
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I walked out of the hotel bathroom. I sat on the bed. My daughter asked me what was wrong. She's 15, and we don't keep much a secret as far as our bodies go in my family. I am not of that narrow minded school of thought, and I always want my children to be educated and confident in their bodies and their relative circumstances. That, and their grandfather was a physician, and their grandmother was a nurse, so they get hammered with anatomy and physiology, inadvertently, on a regular basis.</div>
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I told my daughter I had found a lump in my breast. She said, "Let me see!" So, I showed her the area of concern, and allowed her to palpate the tissue as her curiosity so desired. She said, "OMG, MOM!!!!...that's HUGE!!!!"</div>
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Awesome. </div>
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Sweet.</div>
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Great.</div>
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Seeing as though I was out of town, and nowhere near my primary care physician, I decided to do the exact thing that I always tell my patients to STOP DOING--I consulted Dr. Google. And, par for the course, according to Dr. Google, with 100% certainty, I had breast cancer. It was going to be a very relaxing trip...OBVIOUSLY.</div>
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I spent the rest of that trip in kind of a daze. I didn't know what to think, and I felt isolated and trapped--states away from anyone who could give me any answers back in California. I had brought it up to my boyfriend. He was sweet, and very supportive. He tried to be reassuring. However, when you are faced with something like this--not even the most reassuring voice of reason can quiet the voice of paranoia and Dr. Google in your head that YOU HAVE CANCER.</div>
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On my last night in Denver, I went over to my ex-husband's house. We had been talking about the kids, and commiserating about how hideous, obnoxious, and entitled most children are at the age of 15, but that we love them anyway, and want nothing more than for them to be successful and to turn out to be decent human beings. Then, one of the kids popped off about something, interjected her two cents worth on the topic of my breasts. I didn't take kindly to it (nor did her father), and I ended up having my eyes well up with tears, and everything I had emotionally been holding in for days finally came flooding out in that moment. I told my ex-husband what I had discovered over Thanksgiving break. However, unlike my unruly teen, he was reasonable, sympathetic, and quick to give me a big hug and tell me that things were most likely going to be OK. Then we both tearfully agreed how hideous 15 year olds are, again.</div>
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I returned to California late that night. The next day, I called my PCP and made an appointment to be seen. They said they could get me in the next day. It became very real, very quickly, how hard it is to WAIT in situations such as these. It's horrible. It's very easy to let your mind get away from you, and run in 90 different directions--none of which are good for your health, or peaceful.</div>
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I went into my doctor's office. I was to be seen by the female nurse practitioner that day. I didn't care. The bottom line was that I needed an order for a mammogram and an ultrasound of the area I found the lump. Nonetheless, as I sat in the waiting room of my doctor's office, I had a blank stare on my face. I just kept repeating, "Please, God, don't let it be cancer." Eventually, I was called into the examination room.</div>
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A woman (not my nurse practitioner) walked into my room. She didn't introduce herself. She just started asking me questions. She had a white coat on. She looked legit. But it rubbed me the wrong way that she didn't even say "HI", or give a proper introduction. </div>
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She then started asking me a whole host of questions about my health history--all of which my primary doctor already knows BECAUSE THIS IS WHERE I GO FOR MY HEALTH CARE. I finally shut her down and said, "I've already filled out all of my information, so if you need a comprehensive patient profile, you can look it up in my chart. I can't even think straight right now because I am so worried." </div>
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She apologized and said, "I'm sorry--I'm a student nurse practitioner, so they want me to ask these questions." I am sure she would've appreciated me being compliant with her interrogation of my health history that the facility already had on file, but I had bigger fish to fry. And I was actually proud of myself that I didn't pop off and say, "Well, if that's the case, we can start with a proper introduction, and a "HI, HOW ARE YOU TODAY?""--which it's impressive that I spared her the lecture on proper formal provider/patient introductions, but Dr. Google said I was dying of breast cancer, so I shouldn't bite the hand that is about to feed me the order for the mammogram I desperately needed, right? RIGHT. Yay me. Sometimes, silence is a virtue--even though it threatens to kill me at times, too.</div>
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I took my shirt off. I was offered a gown, but figured the GIRLS GONE WILD approach would be just as effective. The student practitioner palpated my breast and immediately felt what I was concerned about. The legit nurse practitioner then came in, contorted me into 15 different positions with my arms and body, did the same thing--and said she wasn't convinced I had a lump.</div>
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AS AN ASIDE: I had taken a step back a time or two the previous week to reason with myself. I thought, "Maybe I have always had this lump and just never realized it.--maybe, like Lady Gaga says, "Baby, you were born this way!" Quite possible. But I needed a mammogram before I lost more sleep--and my mind.</div>
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I received my order for my mammogram and ultrasound. The legit nurse practitioner said it would be through a company I had never heard of. I asked her why I couldn't go to my hospital to get it done. She said it was easier for her to order through this other company because their computers interfaced orders with one another. I didn't understand it, but I went with it.</div>
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I sat up, put my bra and shirt back on, and felt my eyes welling up with tears again. Then the floodgates opened. All the emotions I had been holding back had manifested in that moment. Both the nurse practitioner and student NP looked like they didn't know what to do. They asked if there was anyone in the waiting room waiting for me. There wasn't. Then they both came up to me and gave me a hug, and reassured me that it was going to be OK. The first real personal interaction I had felt with them since the second they stepped into my room.</div>
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I called the imaging clinic they had referred me to the next day. There was man "helping" me with scheduling. I'm not usually a man hater, but I really didn't feel like dealing with a male scheduler for my mammogram. Not only that, but I was having to explain things to him, he couldn't find the order, he had no idea who my doctor was, or where the office was located, and <b><i><u>he couldn't find the order</u></i></b>. I'm not saying this series of unfortunate circumstances was due to him being a man--I just didn't feel like dealing with him, or his ineptitude at that moment. I was still in panic mode. He then said he would have to contact my clinic for the order, and then he said the closest clinic he could send me to was in Beverly Hills. I told him that I wasn't driving to Beverly Hills for a mammogram--especially not after knowing the imaging center for the hospital I work with is literally across the street from my hospital. I basically hung up the phone on him. I probably could've been more cordial and appreciative for his mediocre efforts with my scheduling, but I wasn't in the mood. At this point, as far as Dr. Google and I were concerned, I was still dying, and he was just wasting more of my precious time.</div>
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I called my clinic back and asked them to put in the order with my hospital clinic. I knew it wasn't convenient, but neither was my current frame of mind. Thankfully, they bent over backwards, and got me scheduled for the next morning at 9:45 a.m. for a mammogram and ultrasound. I had to work the night before, so I would get off at 7:30 or 8:00 a.m. and then wait for the appointment afterward. </div>
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I went into the women's imaging clinic. I grabbed my clipboard with paperwork I needed to fill out. I sat in the lobby surrounded by nobody my age, and I just kept saying, "Please, God--don't let it be cancer." </div>
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I filled out my paperwork. I was called up to the admission desk. They knew I was an employee of the company. The lady was so nice to me. She could tell I was terrified. I told her I had just worked all night at the hospital, and I had to be back to work that night, so I would be running on short sleep because of my appointment time. She expedited EVERYTHING. She said she would get me back to be seen as soon as possible, and SHE DID. It was SO nice to be so well taken care of.</div>
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I went back to the dressing area. They gave me a locker, and some green scrub kimono top thingy that came in one size fits NOT ME (so that each side could open/cover up for the mammogram). I went into a changing room, put the oversized shirt on, and then went and sat in the mammogram waiting room. I was the only one in the waiting room at that time. I could hear crickets chirping--and Christmas music playing in the background. I picked up a magazine. I flipped through the pages. I didn't care about the celebrities, the fashion, or the ads...I kept saying, "Please, God, Don't let it be cancer."</div>
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I was called back for my mammogram. The radiology tech asked me to point out where my lump was. I palpated my right breast, and pointed it out to her. She said, "Lift your arm up for me, and show me." So, I did. And she said, "OH! I see it!" </div>
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SHIT. For real? You<b><i><u> SEE</u></i></b> it? That's it--I'm <b><i><u>SO</u></i></b> screwed. Dr. Google was right. The Titanic just hit the iceberg. Shit's about to get real.</div>
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The tech marked my lump with a sticker. She then walked me over to the mammogram machine. If you've never had a mammogram, the only way I can describe it is like this...</div>
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If your breast had a face, and your breast's face was pressed up against glass, THIS is what it would look like...</div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dQF3znnliRw/WielPrfOhcI/AAAAAAAABu4/vJKnqB0yGdEDN3Qfarm0RlZL2nUqlgzPACLcBGAs/s1600/boob.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dQF3znnliRw/WielPrfOhcI/AAAAAAAABu4/vJKnqB0yGdEDN3Qfarm0RlZL2nUqlgzPACLcBGAs/s320/boob.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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The tech grabbed my breast and assisted it into a squashing device from many different angles. I was told not to breathe as the images were taken. Luckily, there was a radiologist on site to read the mammogram immediately and give me my results. Unfortunately, the tech had told me that the part of my breast that was affected usually did not show up on the mammogram, and that the ultrasound would need to be used for further diagnosis. Then she raced out of the room to show the radiologist my mammogram results--which also freaked me out. I was like, "She wouldn't be going that fast if I wasn't dying. SHIT. Shit. Shit. Shit." (all things that go through your head at times like these)</div>
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The mammogram tech came back and told me that the radiologist had cleared me from that standpoint. She asked if I was OK. My eyes welled up with tears, and the floodgates opened again. I couldn't hold them back. She said, "Oh yeah, the office told me when they scheduled you that you were really nervous and scared." </div>
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Awesome. At least you knew I was coming. I grabbed some tissue from the tissue box. Next up was my ultrasound. </div>
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I was escorted back to the waiting room in my unruly kimono that basically showed a plunging neckline and was hanging off my shoulders. I thanked God that the mammogram was negative, but walked in a blind stare to my chair in the waiting room, and sat down to wait for my ultrasound. I didn't even grab a magazine this time. However, God has little ways of showing me He is present...even in my loneliest and most terrifying moments. Mele Kalikimaka (the Hawaiian Christmas song) was the song playing on the sound system--which is my favorite Christmas song...EVER. But, I wasn't alone this time in the waiting room. There was another woman sitting in there. She was reading a magazine. We were wearing matching kimono tops. She seemed so composed, and reading away. She then was called for her mammogram--only it was her second of the week. It was a repeat because they saw something on the previous one. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath--for <b><i><u>BOTH</u></i></b> of us. That waiting room--although the decor and amenities were super hospitable, felt like the most terrifying place. It feels like a myocardial infarction in there--the feeling of impending doom. It's indescribable.</div>
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As I sat with a blank stare on my face awaiting my ultrasound and listening to Christmas music, the woman that had been in the waiting room prior, returned from her repeat mammogram. She was awaiting her repeat ultrasound--but this time, <b><i>she</i></b> was in tears. My eyes welled up again. I didn't know her. I don't know her situation. But I'm also not stupid--there was a reason why we were both there. Something wasn't right. And it's terrifying. At that moment, I said a little prayer for <b><i>both</i></b> of us. </div>
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I was called back for my ultrasound. I was shaking. The tech ran the machine over my sticker marked area from every direction. I could hear her taking pictures of the area with the buttons on her machine. Each click made me grow more paranoid. I could barely hold back the tears.</div>
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She finished her procedure, and left the room to show the results to the radiologist. In that moment, I felt like I had every thought running through me. "How am I going to deal with chemo? How do I hold a job? How am I going to pay my bills? Am I going to die?"</div>
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These are all very REAL questions that you face in the moment. That one moment when your world can go from normal, to totally terrifying in a matter or seconds. Not only do you have to come to face with your own mortality, but you have to face that some things are totally out of your control--and we are all mortal...regardless of age. Life deals out a bunch of curve balls...but cancer SUCKS. It is like a hammer...or a wrecking ball. It comes in...uninvited...unannounced...and it delivers a huge, devastating blow.</div>
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My ultrasound results came back negative. By the grace of God...my ultrasound came back <b><i><u>NEGATIVE</u></i></b>. Maybe it's just more muscle tissue on that side since that is my dominant side. Perhaps it's some other sort of fluke. The ultrasound tech said, "I'm glad we have good news for you today, Ms. Madison!" </div>
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<b><i><u>JESUS</u></i></b></div>
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<b><i><u>BREATHE...</u></i></b></div>
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My boyfriend had texted me during the appointment. I called him afterward. I broke down in tears. I had an entire week of struggle prior to that conversation. I couldn't hold back the tears. I just cried. I was happy...relieved...and sad for those who hear otherwise. It was emotional overload. I was driving home talking to him. He was supposed to be in San Diego on business. I had no idea he was waiting for me at my place when I got home. It was just what I needed.</div>
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I can't imagine being the nurse or tech who has to tell someone they have cancer. I feel so lucky right now. This whole experience has been so terrifying. I am a nurse. I realize I deal with things people can't fathom. I help people bring their babies into the world, hold their babies as they die, or try to save mothers' lives in pregnancy/childbirth. And that's what I do...and I <b><i><u>CAN</u></i></b> do that. And it is heartbreaking, but I feel like that is part of my calling in this life. However, working in a clinic where you have to tell people they have cancer?...I don't know if I'm strong enough for that. Nursing is so funny that way. We are all cut out specifically for a purpose--or calling. And we can't fathom it any other way. </div>
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PLEASE...please...make sure you are doing your monthly breast examinations. Do not ignore your health. Health and health care can be very scary, but please take the time to know your body, and address abnormal findings with your healthcare provider. There is a lot of amazing life to live out there.</div>
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Stay Healthy.</div>
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We've got this.</div>
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(: CHEERS. :)</div>
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Blah-dee Blah Blah Blah-dee Blah Blah Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270433511823901795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426664962286380303.post-41407044391378481312017-05-28T19:51:00.001-07:002017-05-28T19:51:40.013-07:00Epic Summer 2017 #endlesssummer<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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HAPPY SUMMER!</div>
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The adventure starts NOW.</div>
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Blah-dee Blah Blah Blah-dee Blah Blah Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270433511823901795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426664962286380303.post-32842648916507729352017-02-10T01:11:00.000-08:002017-02-10T02:37:18.046-08:00So This Is Happening Right Now...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I AM IN VEGAS!!!</div>
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Whaaaaaat???? Couldn't be further from my comfort zone, but I am here, and it is CRAZY.</div>
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So, I arrived at my hotel, walked into the lobby, and this was my response shortly thereafter:</div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzGN5_hvmhU1_RHxwCFgMvstObcx4uFRyaiPdYuMBWb1PUmvNYRy3AhGmLDVXOTGU2xSS6oeNGQbe67FvdrmQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br />
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(you can follow my ridiculous Snapchat videos on www.instagram.com/whitneythesnapchatdeer)</div>
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Apparently, I've lived a very sheltered life. Yes, I'm the new kid in Vegas.<br />
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www.instagram.com/whitneythesnapchatdeer<br />
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I have sensory overload at the moment. So I had to go to my hotel room and do yoga. Not even kidding. Then I busted out the wine.</div>
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Just going to wing it, and have a kick-ass time!!!</div>
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#whathappensinvegas</div>
Blah-dee Blah Blah Blah-dee Blah Blah Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270433511823901795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426664962286380303.post-38569015980703130662017-01-29T01:54:00.003-08:002017-01-29T12:07:49.287-08:00Looking Forward To What Is Next<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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(: I LOVE MY LIFE. :)<br />
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**CALIFORNIA LOVE**</div>
Blah-dee Blah Blah Blah-dee Blah Blah Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270433511823901795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426664962286380303.post-41327123399176122522016-12-15T03:45:00.003-08:002016-12-15T04:26:04.790-08:00MERRY CHRISTMAS 2016!!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span class="">Happy holidays!!! Some people send Christmas cards. I send a Christmas blog these days. I used to handcraft all of my Christmas cards. They were super elaborate, and I had fun designing them every year. However, that all stopped when I got divorced, and I haven't been able to get stoked about Christmas cards since. THAT DOES NOT MEAN I DON'T LIKE TO RECEIVE THEM!!! I WANT YOUR </span>CHRISTMAS CARDS!!! Glad we are clear. I'm waiting for your cards. Eagerly. :)</div>
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<span class="">As anticipated, this has kind of been a wild year for me. I packed up and moved from Wasilla, Alaska in 2015, and moved to a town in California that I had only picked out randomly on a map one night when I was working in OB Triage at my hospital in Alaska when had i no patients. I knew I wanted to be closer to home so I had a shorter commute to see my kids, but I loved the hospital system I was currently in, so I called up all of their job postings on the intranet, did my research, and picked the hospital that was closest to the BEACH in California!!!! And it has worked out well for me in most areas thus far :)</span></div>
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I spend a lot of time at the beach on my days off. I workout a lot, but my workouts have taken on a new form. I go running on the beach multiple times per week. I was just there tonight, and it was GORGEOUS!!! I've logged 17 miles on my Fitbit in the past two days, and mostly because I JUST DON'T WANT TO GO HOME!!!</div>
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<span class="">Something strange happens in Cali in the winter. People get cold--when it's 60F. I am one of them now when I'm not running, but this is PERFECT RUNNING WEATHER!!! I run on the beach all the time, and it isn't abnormal to be there by MYSELF and late at night!!! Which is ALSO amazing!!! It's so quiet, and peaceful. It's better for my soul than any breathing and relaxing I've paid to do in a yoga studio--and it's FREE. Unreal.</span></div>
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<span class="">Of course, I have spent many, many days surfing, as well. This is a surf photo from one of my many trips to surf the North Shore of Kauai, but, funny story as to why this insn't a recent Cali photo-- it's hard to video yourself surfing in Cali when you fly solo 97% of the time in the waves, so this is the photo you get--and it's from close to shore, because cameras also don't like to get wet, and Santa hasn't brought me the GoPro of my dreams. I have also joined the South Bay Surf Club here in Torrance, CA, but those weirdos like to surf dawn patrol at the crack of dawn, and this kid works nights, so our times don't jive most of the time. Solo surfer girl most of the time, but I have met some pretty awesome surfers here, and they have always treated me well. I've had encounters with dolphins, whales, flying fish, and a baby (5ft) great white shark. Thankful for that, and not getting bit or eaten :)</span></div>
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<span class="">I have been able to travel home more frequently to Colorado from L.A., which has been GREAT. It's ridiculous. I fly exclusively with Southwest Airlines as my airline of choice. They are the BEST AIRLINE, EVER. I loved Alaska Airlines, but Southwest ROCKS. Not only do bags fly free, but I get my return tickets from Denver to LAX for $44. What?!!? I can barely put gas in my car for that price! I am their biggest fan. They really have made my family situation a whole lot easier. I don't have to work as many overtime hours to make my life work because of their low fares, and I feel like they truly CARE about their passengers. Always happy, nice, friendly people to help me out along the way. It warms my heart--because a big piece of my heart is in Colorado and I need them to get there every few weeks to be with my kids!!! And my girls have been able to fly solo on Southwest as "Young Travelers" since they were the age of 12. I don't have to pay the crazy babysitting rate to have someone watch my kids that the other airlines charge ($100 per kid and each way). My kids can watch themselves on an airplane, and are VERY well solo-traveled by now--they know how to navigate LAX better than I do.</span></div>
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Still loving the hospital I work at. Every unit has its issues, but I've learned to just step back and let that be the case. It's the nature of the beast. The thinG I have enjoyed the most about where I currently work is my nurse coworkers. We all have fun, enjoy being around each other, and we're a great team. We always have each other's backs, and there is none of the catty crap I had to deal with in Alaska. It makes all the difference in the world, and I'm am very thankful for all my L&D girls!!! However, the one thing I will say is that the docs are super hit or miss here. You need some THICK SKIN to work in this part of Cali. Which makes it all the more necessary that I have a good team of girls to work with as nurses. We have to combat a lot of doctor crap, but we can spin it, make fun of it and it keeps our spirits up :)</div>
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I'm not Catholic, but my hospital does a great job of decorating at Christmas, and keeping true to the Christmas message of Christ's birth. I am always thankful to work for a hospital that is faith-based. FAITH--not RELIGION. I have some strong lines I draw between faith and religion, but this is a stellar bunch, and I always enjoy the prayer over the speakers on each shift to ground me, lift me up, and remind me of my purpose. It is enlightening, and welcomed.</div>
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So, funny Cali story. I've been asked multiple times since I've been here if people can have my autograph, and if I'm an actress. No. But I'm a labor and delivery nurse, and a mom of 4 amazing kids. Does that count? Makes me laugh every time. Sorry, LAX paparazzi. You guys kill me. I would rather die with unpedicured toes than be the Kardashians. Or maybe L.A. will "discover" me, and give me a late night show. I'd actually dig that. More my style.</div>
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My twins will be out here on December 22nd for Christmas!!!! I'm SO looking forward to our time together. I love my girls so much. Looking forward to Christmas cookie baking, gingerbread house making, all the Christmas movies they make me watch (over and over and over again), and watching out traditional movie each year, "It's a Wonderful Life", beach hikes/runs, surfing, and DISNEYLAND!!!! Oh...and PRESENTS! I'm such a Christmas kid, and, if nothing else, I'm glad I've been able to share Christmas with these babes in both Cali and Alaska because of my work situation. Not the ideal situation, but the way your family works is what makes you a family. Love is glue. This works for us. :) And we get some awesome memories and adventures to boot. ;)</div>
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Did I forget to mention that I met Santa in L.A.? It just happened to be running past him one night. He was sitting on a cliff, in a lawn chair, enjoying the sunset in Palos Verdes, CA. I walked up to him. Asked him for a pic. I told him that I went to college at the University of Alaska Fairbanks, just outside North Pole, Alaska. He got a kick out of it. He is a TV personality here in L.A., but lives part time in Oregon. He has written multiple children's Christmas books. He does a lot in our L.A. community to keep the spirit of Santa alive. He also drives a red Mini with the license plate "N-Pole". He's good people. He even gave me his card.</div>
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SO...<br />
<b><u>Single? Dating?</u></b><br />
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Wouldn't you like to know. Here is what I can divulge about the current situation:<br />
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<b><u>Dating</u></b><br />
Blue Eyes<br />
Dark Hair<br />
Mostly athletic<br />
Gainfully employed with a Master's Degree<br />
Long distance relationship<br />
Sweet<br />
Kind<br />
Caring<br />
Does not drink alcohol (which is OK--I probably drink enough for both of us most of the time)<br />
Age? 30s<br />
Does he surf?--Yes. Praise the Lord.<br />
<b>Favorite attribute: </b>He enjoys my CrAZy and offers sweet advice when I exceed my parameters.<br />
<b>Weakness?</b>--flossing teeth regularly. I floss my teeth twice daily and expect the same from those I date--I'm the dental hygiene Nazi.<br />
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That's all. Oh, and these Emoji pics that preserve our identity.<br />
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As I conclude this blog, I wish you all a very happy holiday season. This has been a very trying year for me at times. It has brought me to my knees in tears with heartbreak at times, but I'm eternally grateful for the grace of God. For growth. For change. For having faith that God isn't going to leave me where I'm at right now, and that my future and potential is bright beyond what I can fathom. Aim high in 2017. Don't get stuck feeling down, depressed, weird, or unloved. Engage in this life. Seek out a purpose. Be strong. Forgive. LOVE. Love love love!!!! You are all amazing, and when we truly realize that we are not here by accident, then we can start living with a purpose and stream our focus. I'm thankful for the celebration of this Christmas season. Thank you, Jesus. You are, and will always be my <span style="background-color: yellow;">RoCkStAr</span>.<br />
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XOXO Whit<br />
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Blah-dee Blah Blah Blah-dee Blah Blah Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270433511823901795noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426664962286380303.post-40168076574237725072016-11-19T01:51:00.001-08:002016-11-19T02:04:46.572-08:00DOLPHINS!!!! How these sweet creatures have touched my heart :)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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So, when I first moved to Torrance, California, I was out on my surfboard at sunset, and about 10 ft in front of my board, a fin popped up. And then another fin popped up. And another. There was a beautiful pod of dolphins in front of me. Then, all of the sudden, a juvenile whale blew water out of his blowhole (he was swimming with his dolphin friends). I was just lying on my board, just watching all of this magic unfold in front of me. I wanted them to come closer. All I could think was that they showed up as a sign that I was where I was supposed to be at this time in my life. It was so beautiful, and felt so right. I had a calming peace that overwhelmed me.</div>
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Ever since, I've adopted the dolphins as a "sign". I've gone through some tough times in the past 6 months. When I'm at the beach, I've said, "God, if ___________ is supposed to happen, or be your direction for my life, let me see the dolphins." Some days I would ask questions, and see them. Some days I would ask questions, and no dolphins were in sight. </div>
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I asked a very specific, and important question one night at the beach; a very important question that could, and would change the direction of my life. And the dolphins never showed up. However, the question I asked was regarding a special person in my life, and the direction I should go with him. I was confused at that time. I had different directions I could go, and they were intriguing. But I had to know for sure what God had planned for my life.</div>
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About a week later, I was walking a path in San Diego with this wonderful man. We were holding hands. The ocean was just off to the side of the path. This man turned to me, hugged me, and gave me a long, beautiful kiss--that was then interrupted by the sound of dolphins blowing water out of their blowholes. Of course, this man had no idea that the dolphins were the symbol of the answer to my deepest questions, but we stopped kissing, and turned towards the water to see where they were. They were SO close to us!!!</div>
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This is the video that I took while walking on the beach about a week and a half ago with that same man. And the dolphins showed up, and put on quite a show for us. It was like watching a dance that had choreographed just for us. And there is no one in the world I would've rather shared the moment with :)</div>
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<br />Blah-dee Blah Blah Blah-dee Blah Blah Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270433511823901795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426664962286380303.post-24706080860763869262016-11-19T01:16:00.003-08:002016-11-19T01:20:26.421-08:00Good Advice...<div style="text-align: center;">
I took this photo at Torrance Beach, and added the words. I saw this quote during a very difficult time in my life, and it couldn't have been at a better time, or had a greater impact. These words are SO true, and have spoken VERY clearly to me. There has been such a major change in my heart, my actions, my words, and my life over the past 6 months. Not a bad thing. I'm still the same me, only better, and I'm very, VERY, thankful for that. :)</div>
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Blah-dee Blah Blah Blah-dee Blah Blah Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270433511823901795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426664962286380303.post-81472856817145003422016-11-19T00:36:00.000-08:002016-11-19T02:14:59.761-08:00Snapchat Snap Of The Week (on my blog) ;)<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>!!!SNAP OF THE WEEK!!!</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>My oldest daughter and I were sending Snaps back and forth on Snapchat during my workout session. She sent me one that was so funny that I laughed so hard I cried. She was talking about how she needs to exorcise her demons to make room for turkey, but it was in a baby fox voice, and she said something along the lines of, "Like, hey, YO, get out! Make room for some turkey in here!" This was my Snap reply. It sounds hilarious with the voice changer that accompanies the fox filter. LOL!!!</b></span></div>
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Blah-dee Blah Blah Blah-dee Blah Blah Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270433511823901795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426664962286380303.post-76829535581158771542016-09-05T21:13:00.001-07:002016-09-05T21:15:06.984-07:00The Twins Are Fourteen!!!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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IT'S OFFICIAL!!! THE TWINS ARE FOURTEEN!!!</div>
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Where does time go?</div>
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I remember taking a trip to Durango, Colorado, when my twins were 4 years old. This was the summer before my girls started kindergarten. My godmother (God rest her sweet soul), told me that "You'd better enjoy it--because once they start school, TIME WILL FLY." </div>
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The girls have a September birthday (stating the obvious), but they have always been the youngest in their class at school. They just started highschool a few weeks ago, and were in the minority of thirteen year-olds that are in the freshman class. OH!!! And my Fairy Godmother was right...time DOES have wings.</div>
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These two sweet babes came into my life 14 years ago and completely blessed my life. I always wanted twins. I have no twins in my family. However, I did pray very hard for twins prior to conception, and badda-bing...I had my prayer answered. They are fraternal twin girls, and I said multiple times when they were babies that I was so glad they didn't look alike because I was too ridiculous to have identical twins.</div>
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My trip to Colorado has been amazing (as per usual). This place will always feel like home, no matter what. However, over the past few years, I have realized that home is literally where you make it. I took this photo the other morning when I had gotten up at 6:00 a.m. to get the girls to their schools (they attend different highschools--one of them is in the International Baccalaureate program at a local school). The Denver skyline is in the photo. I miss looking at this from my old suburbia on a regular basis.</div>
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We have spent the past year staying with my daughter in Colorado when I am down here. I have been a "rent partner" and the girls and I have had our own space with her during our many trips. This is coming to an end soon, and we will go back to staying in hotels, but it has been fun nonetheless. This is a picture of Paige and her furbaby, Daisy. Daisy is such a sweetie, and makes us all feel very loved on our frequent visits. Paige calls her my "granddog". I can't wrap my head around grandkids yet, so I'll take it! Even though I'm not a dog person, the dogs haven't gotten the memo, and continue to love me. Crazy fuzzy beasts.</div>
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Daisy is sweet. However, she doesn't enjoy my militant approach to healthy eating. I try to involve everyone in it, but she basically told me that she preferred processed dog food as opposed to my baby carrots, snap peas, and tomatoes. At least she humored me by chewing them a little.</div>
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I didn't really know what to do for the twins' birthday this year. It gets harder to buy them gifts they get excited about as they get older (because they already have smartphones, and that is their life). I got into town on September 1st, and decided to surprise them with one birthday gift, every day, leading up to September 5th. The second day, they got new kicks. It was a fun way to celebrate.</div>
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The first two days in Colorado were spent at my daughter, Chloe's, softball tournament. She is the starting varsity pitcher for the Green Mountain Rams. Quite a feat at the age of 13, and considering she is playing with seniors who are 18. She pitched every game, and did great. I don't know how she functions so well under the pressure, but I am SO proud of her. Guess those private pitching lessons are paying off!!!</div>
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Chloe humored me and went for a 7 mile hike at Red Rocks with me. Red Rocks is my favorite hike. I did it almost every single day I lived in Colorado. Emma did not want to hike, but this gave the two of us some much needed mother/daughter time one-on-one. We had SO much fun, and it was beautiful!!!!</div>
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When we got back to the car after our hike, we had this adorable friend waiting for us!!!!</div>
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Woke up today and made cupcakes for the girls. Em loves red velvet. Chloe loves vanilla cake. We have a metric boatload of fat and sugar at the moment. Abnormal for us, and only once a year.</div>
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We had tons of fun while I was here. There were multiple Snapchat filters that were utilized.</div>
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We embraced our inner deer.</div>
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We were flower princess chicks.</div>
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The rest of the time was spent shopping for birthday stuff, and homecoming dresses. We found one for Chloe. Em is picky, and we do not have a solution yet.</div>
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Super awesome trip, and birthday for these girls. Can't wait for my next trip! Back to L.A. tomorrow night. :(</div>
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:) CHEERS!!! :)</div>
Blah-dee Blah Blah Blah-dee Blah Blah Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270433511823901795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426664962286380303.post-28796630615098424272016-08-18T00:53:00.002-07:002016-08-18T05:42:05.893-07:00"Wine Mom" On Best And Worse Parts Of Pregnancy--And My Thoughts On Her Video<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My daughter actually tagged me in a post on Facebook today that had this video. First of all--let me warn you--there is some colorful language in here. If you have virgin ears, you might want to look elsewhere for your entertainment today. However, as someone who works in labor and delivery, I couldn't pass up the chance to write a blog on this.</div>
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<b><u><i>Here are the directions for this blog:</i></u></b></div>
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<b>STEP 1</b>: WATCH THE VIDEO BEFORE YOU READ ANYMORE OF MY BLOG</div>
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<b>STEP 2:</b> GO BACK TO STEP 1 AND DO WHAT YOU ARE TOLD TO DO BEFORE YOU READ THE REST OF THIS BLOG.</div>
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<b>STEP 3:</b> QUIT BEING A REBELLIOUS WEIRDO TRYING TO GET OUT OF YOUR HOMEWORK--ORDER OF OPERATIONS IS IMPERATIVE HERE, PEOPLE, NOW WATCH THE VIDEO.</div>
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Did you watch it?</div>
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<b>Yes?----> </b>You may pass go, collect $200, and read the rest of this blog.</div>
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<b>No?--></b>You are a pain butt, and it's clear that I can't control your behavior, so read on and only be slightly entertained. See if I care...</div>
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Sometimes people amp up the <b><i>"gentle"</i></b> and <b><i>"caring"</i></b> during a time when a woman is <i style="font-weight: bold;">"in a delicate condition" </i>during pregnancy. However, I work in labor and delivery with these <b><i>"delicate women"</i></b>, and with the right amount of pain in labor, they are frickin' honey badgers who will MESS. YOU. THE. HELL. UP.</div>
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These are the same "delicate women" who have grabbed me around my neck to strangle me during contractions, squeezed my hand so tight and hard during labor that I thought they broke it, called me names that I don't even think I can Google, have bitten me, punched me, kicked me, slapped me, and whom I've had to restrain so they don't knock out the doctor who is in between their legs trying to deliver their baby while they are physically/verbally accosting him/her and sound, quite literally, like they need an exorcism.</div>
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It's not that I don't understand pregnancy, labor, and delivery--I've had four children of my own, including a set of twins, so I know how good a 9 cm dilated cervix with no epidural feels like while (in my case) <b><i>two</i></b> humans tried to fight their way out of my southern exit at nearly the same time. It's like that scene in Braveheart where they disemboweled him in front of the huge crowd while he was strung up by ropes. <b><i>That is labor and delivery</i></b>. Everyone in the room is cheering, you want to kill all of them, your baby is trying to kill you, and you feel like you're exploding into 450,000,000 gooey, gross, bloody, disgusting pieces. One more thing to thank God for when we all get to heaven. </div>
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<b><u>THIS VIDEO</u></b></div>
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We all have pregnancy stories. We all like to freak other pregnant women out with our pregnancy stories. I don't know why everyone only likes to tell you the bad stuff. I hear this time and time again from my patients who have actually had relatively normal deliveries. It's like a right of passage. Even those "normal delivery" women have to eventually make up something horrible so they can tell their poor, unsuspecting, first-time pregnant friends all about it, and keep them in mental torment for 9 months. </div>
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<b><u>FIRST TIME PREGOS TAKE NOTE:</u></b> DO NOT invite women to your baby shower who already have had kids. They are brutal bitches who only want to hurt you emotionally with their poorly recollected, and often times fabricated stories. Like this video says--you aren't going to remember how horrible it is, which is why we end up with <b><i>multiple babies</i></b>, and why I am gainfully employed as a labor and delivery nurse!!! I swore each child I had dropped my IQ by 10 points. It's called "Postpartum Retardation"--it's a real thing!!! Besides, those women already have kids, so they probably don't have the mental focus, or the funds to get you the posh baby shower gifts you really deserve. Just sayin'. Time to find some new friends who have never had an occupied uterus!!!</div>
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Now that we have hit a couple of things, this is where I like to interject my critique of this (brilliant and very accurate) video.</div>
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First of all, her name is <b><i>Wine Mom</i></b>. Right out of the gate, <i><b>I like her</b></i>. This is the first video I've ever seen from the Wine Mom, but my mom was also a wine mom, I'm a wine mom, my 25-year old daughter drinks wine, and because of it, she will eventually become a wine mom, and I have two future wine moms (my twin girls) who graduate highschool in 2020, and who better not become wine people, or wine moms until I tell them it's OK.</div>
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<b>**IN THIS VIDEO**</b></div>
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<b>(The Best And Worst Parts Of Pregnancy)</b></div>
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<b><u>TOPIC 1: PREGNANCY GLOW</u></b></div>
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LIES! LIES! LIES!!! Actually, for me, I was glowing a little with my last pregnancy, because I was living on the east coast during what would be the hottest summer in history. I would wake up daily to temperatures of 105-112F, with 100% humidity. It was horrible. I would've had to have had no sweat glands to avoid a glow.</div>
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I <b><i><u>hated</u></i></b> being pregnant. I am a horrible pregnant lady. The day I actually got sterilized was one of the happiest days of my life.</div>
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First of all, I'm a pregnancy puker. I puke. and I puke. And I just keep puking when I'm pregnant. Doesn't matter what trimester it is. As a matter of fact, when I was pregnant with the twins, I slept in the bathroom on the floor. I brought my pillow in for the night and everything. My husband and I were watching the Winter Olympics during this time, and I'd have to run and puke in between each figure skating performance, or skier. My (now ex) husband got so frustrated with not being able to do anything about my puking, that he actually yelled at me while I had my face in the toilet, and said, "What the hell is wrong with you?!?!?"</div>
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Don't make me repeat my response to him. Apparently, the inner honey badger can come out during pregnancy, too.</div>
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The point is, I only glowed from sweat, or barfing. It sucked. I hated it. NO MORE BABIES...EVER!!!</div>
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<b>TOPIC 2: WEIRD CRAVINGS DURING PREGNANCY</b></div>
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This <b><i>IS</i></b> a real thing. I've actually only had ONE of these weird cravings, but it <b>WAS</b> weird. We'll get to that in a moment. </div>
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I have to ask admission questions to all of my inpatients when they are on labor and delivery. One of the admission questions is, "Do you have a normal diet, and have you been craving any non-food substances while pregnant?"</div>
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A lot of times, people <i><b><u>DO</u></b></i> ask me if that is a real thing--<i><u>IT IS</u></i>. Some examples I throw out when they need further information is, "Do you feel like eating laundry detergent, clay, chalk, lightbulbs, sniffing glue, nail polish, or the smell of gasoline?</div>
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<b>DING DING DING---the last one--my winner!!!!</b></div>
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OMG--during my pregnancy <i><b>I CRAVED THE SMELL OF GASOLINE</b></i>!!!!! It was so bad that I actually looked forward to running low on gas and got excited about days I got to fill up my car. I also had to ban myself from being anywhere near the car while it was filling up. If I could've stuck my nose in the gas tank hole, I WOULD HAVE.</div>
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I think my kids came out OK. <b><i>Maybe</i></b>. Depends on the day. However, one of my twins always says to me, "Mom, I really<b><i> LOVE</i></b> the smell of gasoline." Yep. The little acorn doesn't fall far from the caustic, deadly tree on that one...</div>
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<b>TOPIC 3: BREAST ENLARGEMENT WITH PREGNANCY AND BREASTFEEDING: </b></div>
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I'm not going to spend much time on this subject, because we all know that our chests balloon into the size of every man's dream during pregnancy and lactation. Although the sheer size can be sexy, there were times I never felt more unattractive with my Dolly Parton jugs--especially with the twins. </div>
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Maybe it had something to do with me sitting on the couch with a giant Boppy pillow on steroids (nursing pillow specifically made for twins so you could feed them simultaneously), two babes facing head-to-head on my chest, and being so busy feeding them that my husband had to feed me a Philly cheesesteak sandwich while I held onto them for dear life. It was a group effort, for sure, but Baywatch sexy???--not so much for this kid. I'm happy with my normal size chest these days--even living in L.A. Keep your water balloons, ladies.</div>
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<b>TOPIC 4: WEIRD TOUCHING DURING PREGNANCY</b></div>
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I see this happen all the time to people, and it is actually illegal, and punishable by law in some states right now. Why people feel like they need to touch another woman's pregnant belly (unless it's offered) is beyond me. I don't remember if that happened in my first two pregnancies--those are a complete blur. However, there was some of that going on when I was pregnant with the twins--mostly with people at church, so at least they were religious weirdos who semi-knew me peripherally on Sundays. </div>
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I did, however, have some people say some <b><i><u>rude</u></i></b> things to me during pregnancy with the twins. I only gained 35 lbs with that pregnancy. I was carrying fraternal twins, so I had two babies, two bags of water, and two placentas in me. The twins were 7 lbs and 7lbs 2oz at birth, and I basically lost about 34.5lbs on the delivery table (we were in the OR--just in case they needed to do a C-section...which they did not, but we always deliver multiples in the OR).</div>
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Towards the end of the pregnancy, you could not tell I was pregnant from looking at my back. However, when I turned sideways, I looked like one half of the Goodyear Blimp had relocated to my midrif. I look like I swallowed a Zeppelin.</div>
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Because of this, it was impossible to find clothing that would cover my belly properly. When I was home, I wore my husband's sports shorts (rolled down and under my waist), and a sports bra--and that is it. I had ONE shirt that I could wear out into public by the end, and even that one was held so far off my belly that I always had a nice draft blowing up my shirt at all times. The shirt was workin' hard--it was more like a parachute. During that time, I had a lady come up to me in the Laura Ashley store in Greenville, Delaware, and say, "Please tell me that there is more than one baby in there."</div>
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Really? What if there hadn't been?!? <b><i>So rude</i></b>. I should've walked up to her after and been like, "You should lay off the creme puffs, and the hamburgers, lady. Lookin' a little pudgy, my friend."</div>
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<b>TOPIC 5: WEIRD DREAMS DURING PREGNANCY</b></div>
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It is very true that some of your most vivid dreams happen when you are pregnant. Unlike the Wine Mom, I didn't have any weird dreams about having sex with Judge Judy, or any other women for that matter, but I did have a very scary-ass dream about being a <span style="background-color: yellow;">killer whale </span>trainer at Sea World. I was in the tank, and Shamu took off from one end of the tank, picked me up with his face, swam me back across the tank, and launched me a million feet in the air off his nose. It was at this time that I woke up screaming in terror.</div>
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I felt everything. I felt the water, the wetsuit, and I felt that frickin' giant orca launch me into oblivion. Pregnancy dreams are crazy.</div>
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<b>TOPIC 6: PREGNANCY SEX</b></div>
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I don't want to spend too much time on this topic, either. I'm pretty private about the subject of sex to begin with, but it's become clear to me, after years of working in labor and delivery, that a lot of people are <b><i>not very particular </i></b>about sex to begin with. Believe me, I've seen some weird stuff, ANYONE CAN MAKE A BABY, and have walked out of a few delivery rooms wondering how this blessed child was even created. Then I am weirdly forced to think about it (by sheer circumstance in front of me) and I want to puke, die, rip my brain and eyeballs out, stomp on both, put them in a meat grinder, gag, hack, splutter, and then I have to regroup before I can successfully finish helping them bring their precious child into the world.</div>
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The only thing I want to add to this portion is that, if the Wine Mom thought pregnancy sex was like having sex with one watermelon strapped between her and her husband. Try strapping two watermelons between the two of you, and let me know how that works for you. Enough said. I can't go beyond that with triplets, Kate Plus 8, or Octomom. That's just where you just have to close the door on your man until after your 6-week check up...end of story.</div>
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<b>TOPIC 7: MEMORY LOSS</b></div>
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It is crazy to me that women simply can't remember pregnancy, labor, and delivery well enough to NEVER DO IT AGAIN. I would say that about 90% of my patients tell me during labor that they are never going to have another child. Yet they become repeat offenders on labor and delivery like everyone else. Not to mention the drop in IQ after each baby. It's a real thing. It doesn't go away. So grab wine, and enjoy the crazy ride!!!</div>
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:) CHEERS :)</div>
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Blah-dee Blah Blah Blah-dee Blah Blah Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270433511823901795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426664962286380303.post-68194188338478955022016-08-15T23:59:00.000-07:002016-08-15T23:59:33.997-07:00Welcome To The Ho-Lympic Zone, Rio!!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I read a funny (and alarming) news article the other night when I was on break at work. It was about how the use of apps like Tinder (the "hookup" app--i.e. the "you don't have to even buy me dinner; we can just get naked and go for it after we give each other a once-over" app). The statistic said that they had to increase the amount of condoms available in the Olympic Village in Rio because they had an issue with supply and demand in London--demand far exceeded supply. No telling how many babies and STDs came out of the London games, but they weren't going for a repeat in Rio.</div>
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The article went on to say that the amount of used condoms found all throughout the Olympic Village is staggering. They were found on rooftops, alleys, beaches, etc. (Can I get an "Ewwww" and a "Watch your step"?)</div>
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Then it went on to say that 450,000 would be available in the Olympic Village in Rio. That's A-LOT-O-LATEX. They crunched the numbers, and said that averaged out to 49 condoms per Olympian.</div>
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Apparently the equestrian people aren't the only ones who are going to be walking through the Olympic Village like they just got off a horse. Not only that, but I'm still trying not to picture how weird it must be to meet someone and say, "My roommates in bed right now, so let's head to the roof."</div>
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Athletes aren't the only ones breaking Olympic records in Rio, and Wednesdays are no longer the only hump days every 2-4 years for 2 weeks.</div>
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Blah-dee Blah Blah Blah-dee Blah Blah Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270433511823901795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426664962286380303.post-19802744539469180152016-08-08T03:48:00.000-07:002016-08-09T16:55:58.043-07:00It's Been Exactly One Year Since I Moved To Cali--An Update...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
This is looooooong...so grab a pot or two of coffee. ;)</div>
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It has been exactly one year to date that I stepped off a plane in Long Beach, California, and headed up to my new home in Torrance, CA. It has been a year full of great things. It has been a year full of not-so-great things. In other words--<b><i>It's been a year in life</i></b>. But what fun would my blog be if I stopped there?</div>
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My year in California got off to a great start, and by "great start", I mean completely terrifying.<br />
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The very first night I was here, I went for a run down at the beach. At that time I had no idea about neighborhoods, where to park, what was safe, what was not safe. As far as I was concerned, I had done my homework, and my homework said I was moving to one of the safest cities in L.A. County.<br />
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I parked my rental car in the underground parking garage at the Redondo Beach Pier. My own car was en route, and being shipped from Wasilla, Alaska, so my company had me in a rental car until it arrived. I paid for parking, and went up the stairs that led to the beach path that I was going to run on. Off I went...<br />
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It was a great run. I got back to the pier, and the sun was setting. I decided to take a walk out on the pier, and take it all in. As I was walking back toward the steps to where my car was parked, I turned around to take one last picture of the sunset. A guy was standing over to the side of the walkway, and asked me about my picture. I told him that I was new to the area, and that I hadn't seen the sunset from the pier. And he started to approach me, smiling.<br />
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<b><i>By this time you probably all have the theme song to your favorite slasher movie running through your heads. Keep it there...it gets better, and your musical selection will only add to the excitement of all of this.</i></b><br />
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So Mr. CuriousAboutMyPhoto approaches me, introduces himself, and holds out his hand for me to shake. I'm new to town. Where I come from, people shake hands and introduce themselves, so I did, and gave him my first name. He didn't look super scary, but he did have a blue diamond tattoo over his left eye. He was also holding a fishing pole, and his bicycle with the other hand.<br />
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The conversation went quickly downhill. He asked me if I was interested in smoking weed. I told him I wasn't into that. Then he suggested we get a drink. He told me that he was 32 years old, and had been "looking for the one" for his whole life, and that I might be that girl. Then he started saying how amazing it would be to get me in a Jacuzzi, and "take care of me".<br />
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<b><i>Hmmmm...does that kind of shit fly here in L.A.? </i></b><b><i>Because where I come from we call that, er, super creepy. </i></b><br />
<b><i><br /></i></b>I was quickly realizing that I was not in Kansas (or Alaska, or Colorado) anymore. Homeboy continued to whisper sweet (crazy-ass) nothings into my ear. Only this time, he had decided he was going to put his arm around me, and rest it on my shoulder. He still had his bike and his fishing pole in his other hand.<br />
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I started to walk at a faster pace. I tried to push his arm off of me, but the more I tried to push it away, the tighter he grabbed me--and now he was up to my neck. I was still trying to loosen his grip as I was rapidly trying to get to my car (like a Toyota Corolla was going to save me--oh the flawed logic you have when someone is trying to sexually assault you). He continued to whisper in my ear about all the things he wanted to do to my body, while essentially having a death grip choke hold on me. He was like a horny boa constrictor.<br />
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There were a couple of people in the parking garage a few rows over, so I yelled "STOP IT!!!" and for help, but nobody even batted an eye. I could see my car a short distance away. I was trying to calculate how I was going to get out of this. I was just fortunate that he had his bike and fishing pole in his other hand, or I'm not sure I would have.<br />
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As we got closer to my car, his grip around my neck was tighter than ever. I decided that I was going to put all my strength into somehow ripping his arm off from around me, while simultaneously unlocking my car with my key fob, and I was going to make a mad dash to get in.<br />
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Somehow, by the grace of God, I was able to force his arm back over my head, shove him away (and he went off balance, and the bike took him the rest of the way) and I jumped in my car, slammed the door, and quickly locked the doors (how I knew where the stupid button was in a rental car, I have no idea, especially in full-on panic mode). He then ran up to the car, started banging on my windows, and was trying to open the door to my driver's seat.<br />
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I threw my keys in the ignition, threw the car in reverse, and hit the gas. Then I flipped it into drive, and while I was doing this, he got on his bike, started pedaling, and rammed it into the side of my car. My foot hit the gas pedal again, and I headed for home.<br />
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I couldn't process what had just happened to me. My heart was still going a mile a minute, my knuckles were white as they gripped the steering wheel, and my focus was entirely on getting back to my home. I reached home, and I needed an outlet--so I went to Facebook.<br />
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I posted what had just happened. The first thing friends said was, "Did you call the police?"<br />
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<b><i>Oh, those guys...I forgot they existed.</i></b><br />
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Did you push the red panic button on your key fob?<br />
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<b><i>Oh, that thing--that's what that is for...</i></b><br />
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People gave me all sorts of very sound advice that would've been helpful if my brain hadn't completely shut down after all that had just happened.<br />
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The good news? I got a lot smarter after that little episode. <b><i>OH! And I didn't get raped!!! YAY ME!!!</i></b> The bad news, he never got caught because I didn't report it to the police in time.<br />
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Being a single woman in L.A.is no joke.<br />
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<b>WELCOME TO CALIFORNIA, BLONDIE!!!</b><br />
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I took off from the Long Beach Airport, and headed up to Torrance, CA. I had never seen the hospital that I was transferring to, except in pictures. As a matter of fact, I had never heard of Torrance, California.<br />
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I had been living in Wasilla, Alaska for the past two years. In 2013, I moved to Wasilla to work in Anchorage, Alaska. That was the year that labor and delivery nursing became super unreliable, I was on call, nearly every week, and marijuana became legal in Colorado. After 6 months of watching my bank account hemorrhage, and watching the influx of people to CO who were interested in living life in "greener pastures", I was forced to make a huge decision about my family, and career.<br />
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When pot became legal in CO it caused a mass migration of people to the state. Housing prices went through the roof. I had friends bidding on houses and having to go 30-100K over asking price to win bidding wars. All housing went through the roof.<br />
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I have 4 kiddos--two of which are out on their own, but I have my twin teenagers, and that requires space to live, and breathing room. When I left CO, I was in a beautiful 4-bedroom, 3 bath house. That same house now rents for $800 more per month than what I was paying. It went up $800 in one year; and nursing wages in Colorado did not increase to compensate. I was going to be forced to downsize my world to shoebox magnitude, and living with two teenage wolverines living on top of one another, and constantly at one another's jugulars did not sound appealing. I made the decision to start looking for work in other states.<br />
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I had nursing licenses in both Alaska, and California. I decided to place applications in both states--both of which have some of the highest nursing wages in the United States. Alaska called me immediately, and with an amazing relocation offer, and sign-on bonus, so north I went (and I signed a two-year agreement that I would stay for a minimum of 2 years because of the relocation and bonus).<br />
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My ex-husband was very understanding, and so were the kids. We were not going to uproot the kids just because my work was less than ideal. They would stay with him in Lakewood, CO, and I would start traveling home as often as possible, and the twins would come my way as often as possible.<br />
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The Alaskan struggle was real. I spent that first year in a lot of tears. I missed my home. The twins were up in Alaska for holidays, and spent the summer in Alaska with me. That part of things was fun, and was a great experience for them. Most people only dream of seeing Alaska in a lifetime. My kids had the chance to live it.<br />
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The second year in Alaska went a little better for me. I made some great friends at work, and out hiking, etc. I made some great memories in Alaska during the second year I was there. However, work had kind of gone south. Management on my unit had changed, and new practices and people had been implemented, and placed in positions that made work a pretty miserable place to be. There was a lot of power tripping from the charge staff, and higher ups, and I no longer wanted any part of it. It was sad to see, because it literally divided a unit that used to be fun to work for--but it was no longer. A lot of my coworkers were unhappy. I was unhappy. By the time I got out, I felt like I was one of the lucky ones who got a life raft and escaped from a sinking ship.<br />
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I was also traveling a lot to see my family--as often as every three weeks. The flights out of Alaska are always overnight down to Denver. I was at the point where I was literally either working, or flying to Denver. It was hard on me. It was worth it, but difficult.<br />
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One night I was out on the OB Triage unit in Alaska. There were no patients. I was trying to figure out what direction to take next. My two year contract was getting close to ending, so I got on the intranet at work, called up all of the hospitals within my hospital system, and chose Torrance, CA.<br />
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Torrance, CA, is located in L.A. County. However, it is the southernmost point of L.A. County--called South Bay. It is close to the beach, and in some cases, right on the beach. The average annual temperature is 72F. This is the area that is known for smog-free, clean beaches, and is one of the safest areas in the L.A. area (minus my friend in the parking garage). Torrance is a predominantly Asian, and very affluent community. There are a lot of Japanese, Korean, and Chinese in the area.<br />
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I started work at my new hospital, and it was good. It was different, but good. Every labor and delivery unit operates differently, so you have to be able to adjust. There were some really good things about the hospital, and some things it took some time to get used to.<br />
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I have now been at my job here in Torrance for one year. It has been good. Work is not as reliable as it was in Alaska, but I have to say, I LOVE MY COWORKERS!!!!! I work on one of the most cohesive units I have ever worked on. We all have such different backgrounds, but we all get along, there is no power tripping, and everyone has one another's backs. IT. IS. AWESOME.<br />
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Christmas on Labor and Delivery, Torrance, CA<br />
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The one thing I'm not such a huge fan of in Cali is my doctor friends. They are super hit-or-miss. I either love them or I hate them, and that can change on any given day. You have to take the good with the bad, though, and I'll take amazing coworkers over well-behaved doctors any day of the week. I want to be able to enjoy working around the people I spend the most time with, and I have found those people here in Cali.<br />
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New Year's on Labor and Delivery, Torrance, CA<br />
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One of the only nurses NOT pregnant on Labor and Delivery, Torrance, CA--YAY ME!!!<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>HOUSING IN CALI</b></span><br />
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I had flown down from Alaska to California last July to find housing. Originally, I was going to rent "sight unseen", and roll the dice. My friend in Alaska, who was from San Diego, highly discouraged this. She said, "You can be in a nice neighborhood, and go two blocks, and hear gunshots." Awesome. That sounds fabulous. Sounds a lot like Alaska, only people were out shooting fuzzy beasts, or inanimate objects with riffles.<br />
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Off to Cali I went. I made a quick 3-day trip to South Bay, L.A. I stayed at the beautiful Portofino Inn and Suites that is right on the water in Redondo Beach.<br />
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I arrived a little early--before I could check in. The girl at the front desk was SO nice! I told her that I was in town to look for housing, and that I would be moving here, and working at the local hospital. She asked what unit I worked on. I told her labor and delivery. She told me that she had just had a baby at my soon-to-be hospital, that it was the most amazing experience, the staff was wonderful, and then she upgraded my room to one of the best, and RIGHT ON THE WATER! She also gave me a discount to the local restaurant so I could go have a glass of wine, and appetizers while I waited to check in.I was so happy to hear that she had a good experience there, because these were my new people!!!<br />
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I finally checked in. I had the BEST room. The sliding door in the room opened onto the deck, and right off the deck was the waterway for the boats to the marina. I saw every size boat pass through, and off in the distance was a wooden platform that was COVERED in sea lions. Their barks were so loud, but it was so fun to hear them. As a matter of fact, the hotel decor is inspired by them.<br />
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I wish my housing search had been as successful. I had a list of places I wanted to see when I arrived, but housing supply and demand is crazy in South Bay. The moment something hits the market, it's gone. I made multiple phone calls, and received only a few in return. One in particular was the most welcome.<br />
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I had contacted the gal I am renting from while I was in Alaska. I told her I was flying down to look at housing, and only had a 3-day window in which to do so. She called me when I got to town. She was the ONLY person who called me when I got to town.<br />
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I knew I would be downsizing moving to CA. Everything is smaller in Cali, and more expensive. I had a budget I wanted to stick to. There were things I desired--a second room for the twins when they were out, a pool, and A REFRIGERATOR!!! I don't know what is up with rentals here, but NONE OF THEM HAD REFRIGERATORS!!! It was so weird. The last thing I wanted to buy, and haul around with me was a fridge.<br />
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I went to see the place in Torrance. It was 2 (good size) bedrooms, a pool, and a FRIDGE!!! It truly is the little things in life sometimes. It was better than anything I had looked at. Some places were so small that I don't even think I could've fit my couch in the living room.<br />
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This place is a gated community. It has gated parking. It's still smaller than anywhere I've lived since 1996. However, I have the pool right off my balcony, I'm 15 minutes from the beach, there are upgrades throughout (granite, etc.), and I didn't have to buy any appliances. AND...I'm only 4 miles from work! I spent two years in Wasilla, Alaska, commuting 1.5 hours to work each day. It is SO nice to get the extra sleep, and not spend much time in my car!<br />
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Speaking of cars--mine finally arrived from Alaska!!! The surf mobile had made it to Cali!<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">CALI TIMELINE</span></b><br />
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The twins flew out to California for their thirteenth birthday last September. We spent some time at the beach. They got a new surfboard. Then they found out how different it is to surf Cali.<br />
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We had only ever surfed Hanalei Bay in Kauai. Granted, we go on family surf trips nearly annually, but the waves in Hanalei Bay are very different. The beach here often times has an impact zone that is harder to get past, and the waves can literally be one right on top of the other--so it's easy to get pounded. Regardless, they started to adapt, and it was a ton of fun.<br />
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I started flying back to CO every couple of weeks to be with them. I was back for Thanksgiving, too. We had a great time with family during that time. We also found out that ex-hubs and his beautiful wife were expecting a new baby in May.<br />
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Thanksgiving 2015, Lakewood, CO<br />
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Then came Christmas. I flew home in December for Chloe's figure skating performance. She brought down the house. I was so proud of her. That was also my fist time bedazzling a figure skating outfit. I was pretty proud of myself. Click the link below to see a clip from her show.<br />
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Link to part of Chloe's figure skating Christmas program below.<br />
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<a href="https://instagram.com/p/_f-QOtMQMG/">https://instagram.com/p/_f-QOtMQMG/</a><br />
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We spent some fun days in Colorado prior to Christmas, including decorating big sister Paige's house for the holidays. Paige crochets, and the Santa hat (on Emma) was the favorite this past holiday season.<br />
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The twins then flew out to Cali for the rest of Christmas break. I had to work Christmas, so they were able to spend that with their dad, and we had a late Christmas here in CA. Part of their Christmas present--season passes to Disneyland.<br />
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We spent some fun days at Disneyland over the Christmas holiday. It was so much fun to see the parks decorated for Christmas. Disneyland continues to be a favorite of ours. They were back out for spring break, and also this summer, and we were either surfing, or at Disneyland during those days. Every once in a while we break it up with a day at the pool.<br />
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Chloe (LoLo) at the beach in Cali.<br />
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Twin mermaids and the water.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>JANUARY 2016</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>SURGERY TIME...</b></span><br />
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A random 80+ degree day in January/February post-op. SPF 50 on those incisions. I was forced to watch the surfers because of my incisions.<br />
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January came, and with it came me landing back in the hospital. I had a few episodes when I was in Colorado where I had some crushing abdominal pain. Some of you know I've had pretty extensive GI surgery. Well, the fun wasn't over yet, apparently.<br />
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I had 4 days off of work. I went running at the beach. After, I had gone out to one of my favorite restaurants, and I had a grilled chicken salad. I had also ordered a side of onion rings (I like to eat a couple--just to be a little naughty). While I was eating, I started hurting. Pain started in my right side, and radiated to my back. It was indescribable. Because of the GI surgery I've had, I had though it might be a paralytic ileus, or maybe an obstruction in my upper GI tract of some sort. Why I didn't think gallbladder, I have no idea. It was such the obvious winner.<br />
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I ended up going through two surgeries. I had stones that were so bad that they had gotten into my common bile duct, completely obstructed that, and gave me rebound pancreatitis. They had to do one surgery to clear the bile duct, and another for the cholecystectomy (gallbladder removal) Fun times.<br />
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Because I am a nurse, I don't go to the ER unless I am dying. I fought going to the hospital. I went 4 days without eating, and stayed on clear fluids in an effort to flush out my system. I had to go back to work, so I finally had to eat something--and it about killed me. I drove myself to the ER in tears, and was then in the hospital for the next 2.5 days. The GI doc told me that gallstones were one of the common risk factors of the original GI surgery that I had back in 2009. I was pissed, and asked him if there was anything else inside of me that I didn't really need that he could take out while he was at it--we might as well clean house, right?<br />
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I had two weeks off of work to recover (and I was compliant, and took time to heal). I was supposed to work Super Bowl weekend, but got out of it due to my organ removal. I had a good excuse. Even though I am a Philadelphia Eagles fan, it was fun to watch the Denver Broncos win the Super Bowl.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>SPRING BREAK</b></span><br />
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The twins came out to Cali during two different weeks for spring break, and only shared one common weekend with me. Chloe decided mid-year to finish junior high at Notre Dame Catholic School. I think she was tired of the drama, and needed a change of scenery. It was, however, the start of my twins not attending school together anymore. This is not necessarily a bad thing, but even next month, the twins will be attending different highschools.<br />
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Emma has made it into the International Baccalaureate Program at Lakewood Highschool, and Chloe will attend Green Mountain. Emma has known since she was about 7 years old that she wants to be an attorney, and she wants to attend Harvard Law School. She is very focused, to the point where she's had a bad day in gym class, and calls me in tears to ask if it ruined her chances of getting into Harvard. She's so cute.<br />
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My Emmer.<br />
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We are all hoping that she can realize her dream. Her grandfather, Garth Sr., was an internal medicine physician, and he attended Harvard, and Yale. It would be amazing if we could be a "legacy" of sorts with respect to that--GO EMMA!<br />
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Both girls continue to play softball. They are both pitchers for their competitive team, they both have varsity softball hopes at the age of 13. They are the youngest in their class because of their September birthday, but they are sports powerhouses. Both take private pitching lessons weekly, and they are incredible to watch. I've been on the receiving end of a misguided pitch to the shin (58mph; and I can honestly say--it hurt like a MoFo).<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>MAY 2016--WELCOME TO THE WORLD, MARGO!</b></span><br />
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May of 2016 came, and with it, a new sister for the twins. Margo Ilona Graham was born to my ex-husband, Garth, and his beautiful wife, Katha. My ex is half German, and his wife is from Germany. This is their little German babe. She is so sweet.<br />
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I coincidentally flew into Denver the day Katha went into labor. It worked out perfectly. Garth was able to spend all day with her during labor, and Margo was born that night. It has been a bit of an adjustment for the twins to have a baby sister, but like any good mother, I hope it's awesome birth control.<br />
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There are definitely some fun moments with this babe. Paige sent a text to Emma, requesting a picture of her with her baby sister. This was what she received. Gotta love Snapchat. LOL!<br />
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At times, some of the most precious moments are captured.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>JUNE 2016</b></span><br />
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The end of May, and into the beginning of June brought something I could not foresee. Anyone who knows me know how much I love Hawaii. I dream about Hawaii. I want to live there one day. But something happened that was both beautiful and horrible during my trip to Hawaii. It quickly became the best and worst trip of my life.<br />
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I flew to Lihue, Kauai the end of May to be a bridesmaid for my best friend, Lindsey. Lindsey and I have been best friends for nearly 20 years. We were roommates at the University of Alaska Fairbanks, and became best friends in the process. I've hated every boyfriend Lindsey ever had--until she met Ed.<br />
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Ed quickly stole my best friend's heart. He is older than she is, and she calls him her "silver fox". We always joke around that Ed is necessary when we are together because we need adult supervision. But I truly can say that he is an amazing man--and he LOVES my best friend, and she loves him. They are one of those couples who are going to make it. I can't say that about too many people these days, but these two will be alright.<br />
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Lindsey was one of my bridesmaids in 2000 when I married Garth. I could not anticipate how I would feel going into all of this wedding hoopla. It blindsided me, and I had a panic attack of sorts, and a bit of a meltdown.<br />
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There has always been drama in my past with my parents. They reluctantly attended my wedding in 2000, and it was not an experience I ever care to relive. I've only been to a couple of weddings since that time, and each time it has been very traumatic for me. This wedding was no different. I panicked, and I actually said that I didn't know if I could ever get married again. This will come into play later.<br />
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I survived, and with the help of my girl, Kelly, here, and my best friend, we all managed to hold it together, and get Lindsey married off in Poipu, Kauai. It was a beautiful backdrop for a beautiful wedding.<br />
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It was a very different trip to Kauai for me. Normally, I take my kids surfing there every year. This was the first time I was there, and staying on the north shore, AND THERE WERE NO WAVES. None. Nothing to surf. The bad news--this was depressing. The good news--it forced me to get out and explore the rest of the island. The other good news--I live in California now, and can surf whenever I want.<br />
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There were sweet sea turtles to see.<br />
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There were giant sea turtles to see.<br />
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There were deadly cliffs to be jumped off of, and swells waiting at the bottom to try to kill you again. I ended up getting caught in a swell here. I also ended up breaking my tailbone--which was super fun, especially on the 5.5 hour flight back to the Mainland.<br />
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But there was still beauty in the moment.<br />
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My tailbone was also not the only thing that came back broken from Kauai.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>JUNE 2016--THE FINAL DEMISE TO THE RELATIONSHIP WITH THE CUTE ALASKAN MAN</b></span><br />
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I had been reluctant to bring anything up about my ongoing on-again-off-again relationship with my boyfriend, Tristan. We were broken up around the beginning of the year, I got hospitalized with my surgeries, and he entered back into the picture at that time. I had told him I was tired of going in circles, and that I needed a commitment out of the deal--not only because I needed something I could rely on, but I am someone who needs to have that sense of security in a relationship. I remember going back and forth with banter with him. I remember all the promises he made that "things would be different this time"--that they would "finally move forward". We have a set of complicated circumstances, and for both of us to get what we need with our unique circumstances, there were going to have to be some compromises, and they were going to have to be big.<br />
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Tristan was my best friend in college. I never dated him. He always liked me, but he settled for being my best friend. This is a man who spent a lot of his time in college hanging out with me and my girlfriends at our crazy apartment. I didn't have a car up in Alaska, and he took time out to take me to the grocery store every week, and we always had friendly "dinner dates" where we would go out, just the two of us, and catch up on life.<br />
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I spent most of my college days not dating men. I was focused on school. Tristan was a mechanical engineering major. Math wasn't my strongest subject, but he always helped me through it, and it WAS one of his strongest subjects. There were many nights spent crunching numbers with him around my dining room table at the University of Alaska Fairbanks.<br />
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We hung out together, went hiking together. We spent a lot of time together in college. I'm not sure why we never ended up dating back then. Not sure where my line of logic was with that. I think I was such a strong personality, and he was so quiet, and kind, and loving--I worried I would crush him, and damage him beyond all recognition.<br />
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In 1999 I started dating Garth. In 2000, I married him. Tristan was happy for me, but disappointed at the same time. But he was still there for me--and he even DJ'd at my wedding.<br />
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I saw my best friends (Lindsey and Rhonda) in Fairbanks, Alaska in 2006. Tristan was there for part of that. He had his life at that time. He finished his Masters Degree at UAF, had been working in Portland for a while, and then moved up to Alaska and took over the robotics program in the engineering department at UAF.<br />
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I went back home to Colorado, In May of 2008, my husband and I separated. By December 2008, the divorce was final. In January 2009, I decided that I wasn't going to close that door on Tristan anymore, and we started dating.<br />
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I don't think I could've anticipated this relationship. If I could have, I'm not sure I would've gone forward with it. In the end, friends should maybe just stay friends, because if they don't, sometimes the friendship dies and burns up with the relationship.<br />
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I know people are probably tired of the Tristan and Whitney saga, but I can guarantee you one thing--you are not nearly as tired as I am, Not to mention broken. As painful as it has perhaps been to watch, it has been exponentially more painful to go through. It may be a self-inflicted wound that you all shake your heads at, but it was a journey.<br />
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It is because of our unique friendship and history that things have not been easy to let go of. I can't tell you how many times people have said "get over it" or "move on" or "there are billions of men out there--find one less complicated!"<br />
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Although all of those things are sound advice, when you're in the middle of it, it's not that easy.<br />
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Tristan was also good friends with my best friend, Lindsey (by default, because where there was a Whitney in college, there was a Lindsey, and vice versa). I had agreed to give our relationship another chance after my surgery in January. I was still exhausted, and only partially optimistic this time--the man had 7 years to commit to me, and never could. Why would something miraculously change now?<br />
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We went to Hawaii to get Lindsey married off. From the start, it was a trip we had looked forward to. It would be our first time to Hawaii since 2010 that we had a trip that was just the two of us. The years that preceded that were all surf trips with the kids. We arrived in Lihue on May 26th, 2016, and we headed up to the condo on the North Shore in Princeville.<br />
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The trip was strange. Something was off. I couldn't put my finger on it, but I had a sixth sense that something was going on. We were both fairly distant the whole time. We were able to get through the wedding. He saw my struggle with my post-traumatic wedding disorder that I suffer from, and he became even more distant.<br />
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The trip was not fun--except for the part with Lindsey. As a matter of fact, I didn't know I could enjoy a trip to Hawaii less. But it happened.<br />
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I still couldn't put my finger on what was going on, but something was definitely up. We arrived back home (me in Cali and him in Alaska). A few phone calls and text messages later, it was all over. He told me he was ready to move on.<br />
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He then contacted me a couple of months later via email. He told me he had started seeing someone when he got home to Palmer, Alaska, and pretty much right after his return home. What I came to find out was that we weren't the only two people on that trip to Hawaii--we had a text messaging guest who was quite disappointed that he was in Hawaii with his girlfriend.<br />
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I've had some conversations with Tristan since then--and they have been some of the hardest conversations I've had in my life. There have been a lot of tears. There's feelings there that I won't ever be able to erase. I spent the vast majority of the 7.5 years in a long distance relationship with this man which included many trips between multiple states, and never had such a sinking feeling come in and taint my relationship as I did with his new girlfriend.<br />
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Tristan told me that he figured if we hadn't figured out a way to move forward by the time we got home from Hawaii that he was determined to move on. There was never a time that he even brought up the subject in Hawaii, and I'm sure my wedding meltdown and insecurities did not help, but the truth was, he already had one flip flop out the door, and pointed back to what would soon become his new future of uber domesticated bliss in Palmer, Alaska--and I would be in California, and there would be nothing to do but listen to him tell me the details of how it all materialized.<br />
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I had time to process things, look back on conversations, and try to take into consideration the "spin" he put on things in order to justify the suspicious timeline of events, and to justify things. However, if it looks like a duck, and walks like a duck, it must be a fucking duck. I can't wrap my head around putting unilateral, undefined parameters on a 7.5 year relationship without telling the other person your intentions (the..."Oh, BTW, if you don't figure all of this out in Hawaii by yourself, we're done"). Not once did he mention that Hawaii was the trip that would declare the outcome of our relationship--but then again, he was already a little distracted.<br />
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I wish there hadn't been 7.5 years lost in the process. I wish that I still had a best friend, and not ill feelings toward someone that I used to have multiple feelings for. I wish I didn't feel the way I do about someone I thought was sweet, and kind, and loving. This was not the fairytale ending I wanted.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>RANDOM TAYLOR SWIFT MOMENT</b></span><br />
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I liken my blog to how Taylor Swift writes songs. She dates men, and then the men of her successful/failed relationships end up the subject of her new music. If you don't want to end up on my blog, don't date me. Or if you do date me, make sure you do it properly so you don't end up in a predicament on my blog. Just sayin'.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>CLEAN UP SOUTH BAY: A PROJECT THAT IS NEAR AND DEAR TO MY SURFER/EARTH LOVING HEART</b></span><br />
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I took on a project in the recent months. I started an independent cleanup project inspired by the World Surf League, Columbia University, and Lamont Earth. The cause? Clean up our world so we can keep our oceans clean. As a surfer, mermaid, and ocean lover, I have so much respect for our oceans, and the beauty therein. It is such a high to be able to get into the waves, and experience, what I consider to be, another world. The ocean and the earth have a symbiotic relationship, The more we trash our oceans, the more we are harming ourselves.<br />
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I hike the cliffs at Palos Verdes, often. There are tide pools down there.There is some amazing Waikiki-esque surfing in the cove (nice rolling waves that are widely spaced apart, and you can catch super long rides if you can man-up to the lengthy paddle out. The cove has many areas where people hike down, and have bonfires. All of that is awesome--until they don't clean up their garbage.<br />
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This picture shows an entangled lobster that I found on one of my cleanup days. The lobster had gone in the bag for food, and could not get back out. It became part of the trash that I hauled back out of the cove that day.<br />
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I go to the cove a couple of times per month now--not to hike, but to clean it up. I clean up trash, old food, beer cans, bottles, broken glass, fishing line, clothing, fishing tackle, buckets, barrels, boxes--you name it, people crap up the beach with it. It is truly heartbreaking.<br />
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There was a fire pit that was filled over 3.5 feet high with GARBAGE. There were people fishing off the rocks. Kids running around with sticks who were playing on the rocks. They kept coming over by the fire pit, but the smell was so bad, and their mothers kept yelling at them to stay away from it.<br />
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I took trash bags out of my backpack. I had gloves on. I started taking each piece of trash out of the pit. I didn't stop until it was empty. The smell was horrible (but I'm a nurse, so I'm used to some stuff). I ended up loading up two 13 gallon trash bags from the fire pit alone. As soon as I finished, I started hiking the trash back up the back up the cliffs. When I came back down to go to the next rock section of the cove, those same kids were still running around with sticks, only this time, they were pretending to roast marshmallows at the fire pit--and the moms were OK with it. They were allowed to play.<br />
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The picture above has my most recent "haul" from the cove. I hauled all of this garbage back up the cliffs, and to a spot where trash is collected by L.A. County. While I was collecting it, an older couple (in their 70s) was hiking the rocks by the shore where I happened to be cleaning. They came up to me, and talked about how frustrating it was that people trash the cove. They said there have been times they go for walks there, and they can't get past the bottles, and garbage to enjoy the beauty. Then, they thanked me.<br />
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As I was hiking around the area collecting trash that they were still in, the gentleman started grabbing trash, and drink cups, and all sorts of other trash. Then he brought an armload over to me, placed it in my trash bag, and said, "Thanks, kid. This really means a lot."<br />
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THIS WAS THE MOMENT--THIS IS WHAT I WANTED. This is where you show others how easy, and rewarding it is to do the same thing--and you INSPIRE people. It is PRICELESS.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>CALIFORNIA FAMILY PERKS</b></span><br />
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I was born in California. My parents moved away from Cali when I was a month or two old. Most of my family resides in California. I have not been in touch with them since I was a child, but it is a fact.<br />
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My sister has also been bit by the Cali bug. She is also a nurse, and told her boyfriend in Colorado this year that she needed to start "wintering" in Cali. She came out for a 13-week travel nurse assignment, and was in San Diego. During that time, we were able to meet up for drinks and apps in Orange County, and little while longer, we spent a day together at Disneyland (which we both are in LOVE with).<br />
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I love this girl. We have also had a love/hate relationship since we were kids, but the older I get, I don't know how I function as well as I do without her. I love her sass. I love her perspective. I am an emotionally charged person, and she grounds me. She reels me back in when the emotions shoot out like a torpedo. She benefits from me, too. She has the Vulcan gene. She take exorbitant amounts of times to process emotions, and periodically I am the light that goes off, or acts like her trigger. We are a good balance for one another.<br />
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It was so good to see her in Cali. She also plans to come back this winter. One of my favorite things she said to me while we were waiting in line at Disneyland was, "Why did mom and dad ever move from here? Can't they see that we belong here?!" LOL! She is right.<br />
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My sis is pictured here with my nephew who just got out of Army bootcamp. Our poor sons are often mistaken for our spouses. Sorry boys. We love you--just not in a creepy way. Thanks for putting up with us!!!! XOXO<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>SURFING</b></span><br />
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My original reason for moving to California was to be closer to my family, yet financially stable enough to be able to provide "the best of both worlds" for them. It just so happened to be that one of the states that actually pays their nurses what they are worth, also borders the Pacific Ocean.<br />
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Moving here has been pretty incredible. Although I live in an affluent area, I also live in a beach town. I can go to the grocery store with no makeup on, in a bikini with a cover up thrown over, flip flops, surf hair, and whatever else I want--and I still fit in.<br />
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Don't get me wrong, I love getting all "girled" up. However, I also love my beach downtime, and my fresh face, and my surf hair.<br />
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See this crazy beach hair??? This is now a big part of my life. ;)<br />
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I have enjoyed the challenge of learning to surf in California. My kids have also learned that this isn't as easy as some of the "easy roller" waves in Kauai--you can't BS your way through them. But the twins have both powered through, continued to persevere, and learn to enjoy, and get better at surfing in Cali.<br />
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When we aren't laughing, and playing in the waves, we are just truly enjoying life, and one another. I am so thankful to the sport of surfing, and for the family bond it has created between me and my girls. We are ridiculous. Sometimes we get tossed, or look completely stupid, but it is the epitome of true love--all the way around.<br />
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I gave the twins the option of going to Disneyland recently, or going surfing. They both yelled, "SURFING!!!" They are being raised correctly. ;)<br />
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Surfing is my love. It brings love, fun, and so much to my life. Hopefully someday I'll be better at it. Until then--I'll just keep chargin'!!!!<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>FAMILY</b></span><br />
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<b style="font-size: x-large;"> </b>This has been a crazy time in my life, but the one thing that remains amazing is my family.<br />
We have a weird family. We are not conventional. There's nothing typical, or standard, or super domesticated about us. It's a giant cluster of crazy that somehow fits together--like a giant jigsaw puzzle.<br />
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The one thing we all have is LOVE, and FORGIVENESS, and SUPPORT. Granted, since we are atypical, people who see us from the outside might think that we are crazy, which is OK. Then we fit in well with the rest of the world. The only time crazy becomes a problem is when it doesn't function. However, crazy is our baseline, so we are thriving.<br />
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We love each other.<br />
(Me with my son, Beau)<br />
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We cheese it up.<br />
(Me with my daughter, Emma)<br />
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We think very highly of ourselves.<br />
(Me with my daughter, Paige)<br />
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We consider it a team effort to look ridiculous.<br />
(Me with Em, and Paiger)<br />
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And hair color may change 689 times between now and college.</div>
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(Me with my Chloe (LoLo))</div>
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This is our life. This is our crazy. This is our love, and our family.</div>
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IT MEANS THE WORLD TO ME.</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>SO WHERE DO I GO FROM HERE?</b></span></div>
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Right here--and I just keep on keepin' on. When I look at my life right now, I'm pretty damn lucky. I have an amazing relationship with my kids. I live in a beautiful place. I have a mostly predictable job, with people I genuinely enjoy working with. I live near the beach. I live near Disneyland. I live near some of the most beautiful parts of the United States--all located in Cali. </div>
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I have a 15 minute commute to LAX. A 2 hour flight to Colorado, and sometimes I can get those flights as cheap as $44 each way. I have a brain in my head that functions well. I have a heart that is very passionate (yet cautiously reserved). There is SO much good to look forward to, and I'm tired of looking back with regrets.</div>
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So I will keep on--</div>
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Having fun with my kids.</div>
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Doing yoga.</div>
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Enjoying the sunset while doing yoga.</div>
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Date when I feel like it.<br />
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Continue to make a difference--every single day.</div>
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That is my plan. I started back dating recently. I've decided that I'm not all about it. I'm not ready. It's fun to get dressed up, and have guys tell you how amazing you are, but I just don't care right now. I'm going to dial it back a bit. I don't want to get myself into a situation where I'm settling for "what's left". I just don't care that much. I like being by myself, and if I feel like going out, FINE. But it is not my priority.<br />
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I have 4 years until my babes go to college. I want to spend as much time as possible with them before they get there.<br />
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I am also moving to Hawaii. I have decided that after the twins graduate, and move on, that I am moving on, too. I am going to stay focused, and make it happen. There will be nothing in my way (which is why dating seems stupid at this point).<br />
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All each one of us can do each day is breathe, process, pray, breathe some more, and pray.<br />
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I look forward to the next year here in Cali. Sorry this blog is SO FRICKIN' LONG!!!! But I've been a bad blogger for a while. I'll try to break it up over the next year.<br />
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:) CHEERS. :)<br />
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Blah-dee Blah Blah Blah-dee Blah Blah Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270433511823901795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426664962286380303.post-6493726650603079452016-08-02T23:22:00.001-07:002016-08-03T02:04:56.082-07:00Learn To Laugh Your Way Through It...And Have A Little Faith, Too...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It's been a crazy week. Lots of high highs, and low lows. However, my sister and I were talking recently--and not about anything funny, but we both just busted up laughing...hysterically. The subject was tragic, but in that moment we were able to find something in it that we could laugh about (maybe we get this from being nurses--who knows). We collectively agreed that if we couldn't laugh about it, we would break down into tears like blubbering idiots.</div>
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This is kind of like my life right now. The other night I was at work. I have been going through a rough time (with family circumstances/relationships), but I just needed a moment to stop focusing on that. I was talking with one of the docs, and my nursing coworkers, and I was <b><i>going off </i></b>(comedy-wise, I have a tendency to do this. I like entertaining people (not in an attention whore way)...hence, the blog). I had them all laughing so hard that the doctor was begging me to stop, and saying she couldn't take it anymore. Then she told me I needed to get out of nursing and into stand-up comedy.</div>
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I'm not quitting my night job, but it made me think. At the base of all good comedy<b><i> has</i></b> to be reality. Sometimes that reality is not good--it's tragic. However, if you don't find a bright spot in it, it will drag you down, and keep you down. You have to be able to laugh your way through some of this life. There is a time, and a place for it, but it <b><i>has</i></b> to be there--and it has to be stronger than the crap that is pulling you down. It has to sustain you.</div>
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This week brought some finality to my life. I've closed a chapter that I questioned even opening to begin with--one that I should've maybe done a bit more of a cost/benefit analysis on. I'm still not sure how to feel about it. You have to take some risks in life, but sometimes I wish some of mine were more calculated, and measured.<br />
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I have been looking back with some regret--which is probably stupid, because it won't erase choices I've made, or undo the current circumstances. The choice is now to move on, and to not look back anymore. And it is the only choice. And that is OK.</div>
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So why did J.C. make an appearance in my meme of choice this week? Because there have been a lot of prayers being shot up in His direction from my heart/head. If I had to go through this by myself, I'm not sure I could laugh my way out of it. However, when you have a rockstar who has your back, the odds are way better that you will prevail. </div>
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I have felt like I'm bailing out a sinking ship with a straw for a long time. Then God swoops in with buckets, and a big piece of chewing gum to plug up the hole. It was a good reminder that He's not going to leave me here, and that I'm not going through this by myself.</div>
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Over the past few weeks it has become very clear that when God closes one door, He opens windows...and sometimes enough windows to get a good cross-breeze to let you catch your breath, and know that everything is going to be OK. Until those windows open in your life, learn to laugh a little--or a lot.</div>
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I did not find this meme at all blasphemous. I'm pretty sure Jesus laughed at this meme, too. ;)</div>
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:) CHEERS :)</div>
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Blah-dee Blah Blah Blah-dee Blah Blah Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270433511823901795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426664962286380303.post-91675007604103500872016-07-26T02:23:00.000-07:002016-07-26T18:18:57.197-07:00Surf The Waves...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Life is so funny. It just brings this overwhelming feeling sometimes--and you don't know how to handle it.</div>
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When I moved to California, I was so excited to surf whenever I wanted. However, I had only surfed Hanalei Bay in Hawaii prior (reference above pic).</div>
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I fell in love with surfing. It became a passion of mine--a passion that I still struggle to be good at (because I'm not that good). It is so irritating sometimes--I just want to get good.</div>
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Cali brought on new waves. New ass-pounding waves (in many areas of my life). They are so unpredictable here. I can't believe the surf reports I read on surfline.com. Trying to predict waves is like trying to predict the weather--it's a bunch of crap.</div>
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The struggle is real. Cali is so different. I still don't care. I still strap my board to the car, and go. I will eventually figure this out.</div>
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It is so humbling to be out there--and some of these waves are BIG. They kick my butt. They toss me, and hurt me, and challenge me. But I keep going out. And I won't stop. When I catch them--it's like the biggest high ever. EVER.<br />
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I had my twins out here a couple of weeks ago. I paddled out with one of them through the impact zone, and she kinda freaked out. She ended up going back to shore. My other kiddo paddled out with me, battled the impact zone, and had a great sense of humor on the other side of it. She was like, "OMG--MOM!!! Those waves were HUGE!!! I was laughing so hard about getting pounded that I thought I was going to choke on the saltwater!!!" </div>
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We were on the other side of the impact zone and sitting on our boards (and we were FAR away from the beach), she said, "Mom, do you think there are sharks out here?" I said, "Of course there are sharks out here!!! This is where they live!!!! This is their home! and we're trying to surf in it!!!" She said, "MOM!!! Lie to me!!!" At that point, we both cracked up, and just enjoyed the moment. Then I tried to paddle into a couple big waves and she was yelling at me. She said, "MOM! What the hell!?! Do you think you're Laird Hamilton (pro big wave surfer)?!? </div>
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I don't think I'm Laird. However, if you are going to fight your way out to the waves, you might as well try to charge them. It's a lot like life--if your're going to fight your way through, you might as well see what's at the end of it--even if you get tossed. At least you paddled in.</div>
Blah-dee Blah Blah Blah-dee Blah Blah Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270433511823901795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426664962286380303.post-87217501840856498582016-07-26T01:34:00.001-07:002016-07-26T01:36:39.505-07:00Let Go...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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There is such power in release. </div>
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Let go.</div>
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If it is too big for you--LET IT GO.</div>
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Feel the freedom in ultimate submission.</div>
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It is the most overwhelming feeling of peace you will ever obtain.</div>
Blah-dee Blah Blah Blah-dee Blah Blah Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270433511823901795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426664962286380303.post-74577118483796271002016-07-20T14:55:00.002-07:002016-07-20T16:58:53.600-07:00I Think I Need To Do This...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Can we make it Hawaii, tacos, and champagne instead? And for the love of God, can we take the apostrophe out of that word "tacos"? It doesn't make them plural.</div>
Blah-dee Blah Blah Blah-dee Blah Blah Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270433511823901795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426664962286380303.post-12803435166198422262016-07-19T20:59:00.000-07:002016-07-21T02:29:58.272-07:00This Song Touches My Core. RISE by Katy Perry<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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There really are no words for how this song touches me. I feel it in the depths of my soul. The timing for this song could not be more perfect for my life.</div>
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Favorite part of the lyrics (besides EVERY ONE OF THEM):</div>
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<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">When, when the fire's at my feet again</span></i></b></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">And the vultures all start circling</span></i></b></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">They're whispering, "You're out of time."</span></i></b></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">But still, I rise</span></i></b></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">This is no mistake, no accident</span></i></b></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">When you think the final nail is in; think again</span></i></b></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">Don't be surprised, I will still rise.</span></i></b></div>
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I hope every person has that part inside of them that, no matter how completely obliterated your world feels, there is that strength to not only rise up, but in such a way that you are exponentially stronger than you were before you were deconstructed.<br />
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<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">I must stay conscious</span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">Through the madness and chaos</span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">So I call on my angels</span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">They say...</span></i></b><br />
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<i>Oh, ye of so little faith</i></span></b><br />
<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">Don't doubt it, don't doubt it</span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">Victory is in your veins</span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">You know it, you know it</span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">And you will not negotiate</span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">Just fight it, just fight it</span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">And be transformed...</span></i></b><br />
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#katyperry #rise</div>
Blah-dee Blah Blah Blah-dee Blah Blah Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270433511823901795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426664962286380303.post-51925393615526153842016-07-18T00:52:00.002-07:002016-07-20T14:57:40.886-07:00Because Life Is Short...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It's been a rough patch, but I have finally rallied. I'm tired of being sad, having regrets, and overthinking my life.</div>
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I read some of my older blogs (and by older, I mean--"Old As Moses' Toes Older"...like 5 years ago old), and I realize the magnitude of the stupid cycle I've been stuck in for years (because nothing can change unless you change it). I even deleted some of them because they aren't worth anyone on the planet wasting their time reading. </div>
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This week (and in recent weeks), and after numerous conversations with amazing friends, I realized how much time I've flushed down the toilet with my life, and I GOT BACK OUT THERE. Where is there? LA. CALI. CA. I'm in the city of nightlife, fun, and the highlife. So yes, I took the leap. And it was worth it.</div>
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Tonight (and in the recent weeks), I realized how much fun it is to date again. And flirt again. Tonight was (a new) date night. It was fun, refreshing, and it felt amazing to feel <b><i>AmAzInG</i></b> again.</div>
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Don't waste your time. Life is still willing to happen for you--if you let it.</div>
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:) CHEERS :)</div>
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(post-date night photo from tonight--it was a good hair day--praise Jesus!)</div>
Blah-dee Blah Blah Blah-dee Blah Blah Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270433511823901795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426664962286380303.post-5728956642606573132016-07-15T23:14:00.004-07:002016-07-16T14:45:48.647-07:00Thought For The Day 07.15.16<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I had a discussion with a good friend last night. She said her grandmother told her, "Women leave a relationship because they get hurt, upset, or angry. Men leave a relationship because they already had somewhere else to go."<br />
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Grandma was a smart woman.</div>
Blah-dee Blah Blah Blah-dee Blah Blah Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270433511823901795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426664962286380303.post-42679634219911050372016-07-02T08:54:00.002-07:002016-07-02T08:54:49.047-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Blah-dee Blah Blah Blah-dee Blah Blah Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270433511823901795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426664962286380303.post-32890226663144685672016-04-11T03:13:00.001-07:002016-04-11T03:24:34.198-07:00NEW PAINTINGS: Fireman Nursery Paintings by Artist Whitney Madison<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><b>**FIREMAN NURSERY PAINTINGS**</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><b>By Artist Whitney Madison</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><b>I just finished my new paintings for my friend, Trier (tree-air...in case you didn't know how to pronounce this BEAUTIFUL name). I have been so busy lately, and my friends have been busy building their families with these sweet little additions. However, I finally finished this little fire fighter's nursery artwork!!!</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><b>The theme for this sweet baby's nursery is just like his daddy--being a fireman (see photo above)!! This sweet babe is blessed with two incredible parents. Mom is a nurse. Dad is a firefighter. Both are ridiculously strong and beautiful people, and passed on their genetics to their children. I was fortunate enough to meet Trier at my church in Colorado (she is my pastor's daughter). I felt like the Sunday weirdo when I first started attending the church, but she embraced me, and we found out we were both going to the SAME nursing school (within about a year of one another for graduation), and she's just a sweet, beautiful friend. </b></span></div>
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<b><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">This is the first painting I made for Trier after the birth of her GORGEOUS daughter, Emberlin. She told me that her little girl is into Disney themes now, but Emberlin chose to keep this painting in her room even now that she is "growing up". That makes my heart happy. :)</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;">Trier and Kenny's new babe is a sweet little boy named Kaias. I have no idea where they come up with their awesome names for their family, but I love them.</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;">This painting was a cute little personalized piece for the nursery.</span></b></div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hQWNlQGM9Js/Vwt1zE-346I/AAAAAAAABcQ/UjmX_n0zM1ogaoy-4HBEsoC8pZHNKaXhQ/s1600/FullSizeRender%2B%252827%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="312" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hQWNlQGM9Js/Vwt1zE-346I/AAAAAAAABcQ/UjmX_n0zM1ogaoy-4HBEsoC8pZHNKaXhQ/s320/FullSizeRender%2B%252827%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;">After looking at the nursery theme and trying to come up with the artwork, I decided that the stars were my favorite part. When you have two parents who go to work and save lives--the stars are totally appropriate!!!! :)</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;"><br /><span style="color: #cc0000;">Trier, you and Kenny have built a BEAUTIFUL family, and I love watching all of you grow in happiness, laughter, and love. Blessings to you all! I hope you like your paintings!!!! :)</span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;">Love, Whitney</span></b></div>
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<b>Please visit my online art gallery at www.etsy.com/shop/arcticbarbiegirl</b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;">(: Custom orders always welcome! Please feel free to contact me. :)</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: x-large;">CHEERS!!!</span></b></div>
Blah-dee Blah Blah Blah-dee Blah Blah Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270433511823901795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426664962286380303.post-58487239458496372522016-02-18T00:02:00.001-08:002016-02-18T00:37:42.717-08:00**NEW PAINTING**: Nautical Hampton Nursery Artwork--Original Paintings by Artist Whitney Madison<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I was recently asked to do three custom paintings for my dear friend's nursery. Nursery artwork is one of my favorite topics. I am a labor and delivery nurse, and I not only love helping bring these little people into the world, but I love to decorate their world as well!</div>
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This is a trio painting, and is in a Nautical/Hampton theme. I recently moved close to the ocean, and it seems almost ridiculous that it has taken me this long to do some nautical themed paintings, but they have arrived nonetheless! </div>
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These three paintings are on 12"X12" stretched canvas. They are in an acrylic medium. They include my custom, signature handcrafted frames (which makes the frame size approximately 13"X13"). The paintings stand off the canvas, and are fun to touch! </div>
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The whale and anchor paintings have the interior perimeter of the frame embellished with a patina and white grosgrain ribbon. The main colors are white/navy/patina (sea foam) green/gray. The center painting reads "Dream BIG Little One". All paintings are sealed in a high gloss glaze for protection, and they are ready to mount directly on the wall (with nails).</div>
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Perfect for your nautical nursery!!! This set ships for free in the United States.</div>
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To view my paintings, or place a custom order, please visit my online art gallery</div>
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Ooooh La La Art Gallery by Artist Whitney Madison at</div>
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(: CHEERS! :)</div>
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Blah-dee Blah Blah Blah-dee Blah Blah Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270433511823901795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426664962286380303.post-36429168658988864742016-01-20T22:32:00.000-08:002016-01-20T22:32:17.432-08:00OH BABY!!! Original Artwork/Paintings for Laura Hart by Artist Whitney Madison<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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OH BABY!!!!</div>
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I was very blessed to receive a request a couple of weeks ago from one of my sweetest friends. She was requesting that I do the artwork for her baby's nursery--the babe she is still carrying, and making a sweet, loving home for.</div>
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This girl and I have some history. She is one of my Labor and Delivery coworkers. She is brilliant, beautiful, and one of the best L&D RNs I know. I was asked to do a painting for her nursery with her first baby--and that was awesome, but I also got to be one of the nurses in on her delivery of her sweet baby boy, and that was the REAL cherry on top!!!</div>
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Laura sent me a picture of her nursery, and sent me some ideas of nursery artwork that she liked. She has not seen these paintings until now, so I'm hoping I didn't take too much liberty with color/content/etc!!! These paintings will go in the nursery below. I love the horizontal paint on the baby's wall--and the colors are fabulous!</div>
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The following are the paintings I made for this room. I took some liberty and peppered in some light sage greens, soft yellows, and some navy blue highlights to add a pop of color and some definition.</div>
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This sweet little elephant blowing bubbles.</div>
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LOVE--the reason we live.</div>
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And this cute little tree.</div>
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Laura Hart--I love you, Beautiful Girl!!! You are an incredible woman, and this baby is such a blessing, but is also SO lucky to have you and your sweet husband as parents (and that awesome big brother!!!)!!!</div>
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XOXO</div>
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Whitney</div>
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Please visit my website to view my paintings at</div>
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www.etsy.com/shop/arcticbarbiegirl</div>
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Custom orders always welcome!!!</div>
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(: CHEERS!!! :)</div>
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Blah-dee Blah Blah Blah-dee Blah Blah Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270433511823901795noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426664962286380303.post-31592445421090751912016-01-14T22:59:00.002-08:002016-01-14T22:59:28.274-08:00CHEERS Original Painting by Artist Whitney Madison<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-G2buyi87TMU/VpiXtcJ_JFI/AAAAAAAABZg/raFATwf-1h8/s1600/FullSizeRender%2B%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-G2buyi87TMU/VpiXtcJ_JFI/AAAAAAAABZg/raFATwf-1h8/s320/FullSizeRender%2B%25281%2529.jpg" width="210" /></a></div>
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CHEERS!!!</div>
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Original Painting by Artist Whitney Madison</div>
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www.etsy.com/shop/arcticbarbiegirl</div>
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This is an original painting that I made to CeLeBrAtE my love for LIFE, LOVE, and CHAMPAGNE!!! I think champagne is the the most beautiful, fun, exciting, and BUBBLY beverage, and it is my absolute favorite (besides Fiji water, and Perrier). </div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0UlVnE1fGLs/VpiX6TuCUTI/AAAAAAAABZo/3CM1yc1198E/s1600/FullSizeRender%2B%25284%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="307" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0UlVnE1fGLs/VpiX6TuCUTI/AAAAAAAABZo/3CM1yc1198E/s320/FullSizeRender%2B%25284%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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www.etsy.com/shop/arcticbarbiegirl</div>
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There is just something very HaPpY about a delicious glass of golden bubbles! This painting is a mixed media painting on a 12"X24" canvas. The base paint is an acrylic Sahara gold metallic medium, and it is texturized in my signature style. </div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iAwQs0pmn3U/VpiYBpHUk9I/AAAAAAAABZw/N-MCinOdfec/s1600/FullSizeRender%2B%25285%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iAwQs0pmn3U/VpiYBpHUk9I/AAAAAAAABZw/N-MCinOdfec/s320/FullSizeRender%2B%25285%2529.jpg" width="272" /></a></div>
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I used many different shades of gold throughout, so the color variation shifts and is pleasing to the eye. I used authentic gold leafing to accent the hand-sculpted bubbles that stand off the canvas. There are also gold micro-beaded embellishments flecked throughout, and the entire painting is highlighted in a sparkle gloss and high gloss glaze, and sealed for protection. The painting is on a stretched canvas that requires no framing, and is ready to mount directly to the wall.</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zSLr02HDxvc/VpiYIypRVjI/AAAAAAAABZ4/Ovv_m66Lk1k/s1600/FullSizeRender%2B%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="318" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zSLr02HDxvc/VpiYIypRVjI/AAAAAAAABZ4/Ovv_m66Lk1k/s320/FullSizeRender%2B%25282%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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www.etsy.com/shop/arcticbarbiegirl</div>
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This painting is perfect for any room, and fun to touch! A classy convo piece :) Celebrate, and decorate with everything you have to be thankful for! Shipping is free in the U.S. :) CHEERS!!! :)</div>
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(Custom orders are always welcome--just drop a message to me on Etsy in my inbox, or on this site in the messages)</div>
Blah-dee Blah Blah Blah-dee Blah Blah Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06270433511823901795noreply@blogger.com0