What would you do if you knew that you could not fail?

That's a quote I see often on paperweights, posters, coasters and t-shirts. Never give it much thought other than thinking I'd love to be a writer, but the inability to do anything for long periods of time totally shreds that.

However, in my car the other day, on my way home from work, I realized what I would absolutely LOVE to do if I could make a living at it: I'd love to help people navigate healthcare.

I guess the job would probably need a snazzy title like "Patient Advocate" but hospitals already have those. But, I wouldn't be working for the hospital. I would be working for the patient. For the patient's family. For the people who need healthcare and are having trouble getting it, or getting it paid for, or even understanding it.

When I went through nursing school, one of the things they hammered into us was patient education. Your patient was to know what tests they were having, why they were having them, what medications they were getting and why, what their diagnoses mean, what doctors they would need to follow-up with and what the prescriptions were that we discharged them on.

This seems to be a thing of the past. I cannot tell you how many people call me after getting home from the hospital and ask me what their diagnosis means, or why they sent them home on a medication. When I ask them, "did the nurse not tell you?" They answer, I didn't even see the nurse after the doctor discharged me." Or, " they just told me to sign the form and told me see my doctor in 2 weeks and they'd cover everything with me.  What are you supposed to do for that 2 weeks? Just wonder if you are to continue your old meds and then new ones? Wonder if Congestive Heart failure means that your heart is failing and you will die soon?

Then, you have the wrangling you have to do with insurance. I'm going thru it right now. We switched insurance last year THREE TIMES. Once when Chad quit his job (I put us on the insurance thru my employer for 3 months), then the insurance county had, then the insurance that county switched to. So, now they've billed the wrong insurance for some labs and are telling me I have to pay $300, because they won't refile. I don't think so. I've called, written, faxed and emailed and it's taken me about 3 weeks. All for labs in JUNE of last year. Now, find me a 70 year old that could sort all this out. Not gonna happen.

Then, you have people who go to several different doctors. Sure, they take their prescriptions with them, but what if Dr. A thinks you are on Spironolactone because you need to drop fluid from your congestive heart failure, but instead you are on it because of ascites from cirrhosis and they change you to a different medication?? How many people know the exact reason they are on a medication? Very few.

Not everyone would need someone to coordinate their care. Only those with several diagnoses or with medical issues that their insurance is fighting to not pay. Or, even those who have to go to multiple doctors or have frequent hospitalizations.

People call me all the time to ask me questions and it's usually one of the above type questions. It is one of the greatest honors in my life that people trust me enough to ask me these types of questions. No joke. I truly don't mind it, I am just so thankful to have the education and experience to do this. I just wish I could do it on a larger scale and help more people. I know so many people need help in these areas.

So, I guess if I could do anything and not fail, I'd help the folks who are being neglected, forgotten or abused BY our healthcare systems. I guess I'd call myself a Healthcare Navigator or Health Guide. And, if ever I could actually do this full time (rather than calls from friends at random times), I'd call myself lucky and blessed. Of course, I'm that already, so even if I never try, it's okay.

So... What do YOU do?

It's a question I somewhat dread. You're standing at the party, and the "look at that weather, huh?" small talk has run out. So, the next small talk conversation: jobs.

They turn to me, smiling and ask "So... what do YOU do?" I used to say, "I'm a nurse." Then, the person I am telling would smile and say, "Oh, what a wonderful job. Nurses are just such angels." No doubt, they have visions of me saving babies and healing the innocents of the world. Um... not so much.

So, now, before they have time to cannonize me as Saint Emily of the Helpful Soul, I answer, "I'm a nurse at the jail," or if it is someone who has that Holier Than Thou air about them, I throw out the fact that I run the medical department. It doesn't really matter, because they all get this horrified look on their faces when I say it. I know in their mind, they are hearing that part in "Silence of the Lambs" when they talk about Hanibal Lecter eating the nurses tongue in the jail and his heart rate never going up.

After a moment of stunned silence, they recompose themselves and say the same thing, every time. "Oh, that must be an interesting job."

Lady, we just had a transsexual yell at us because he isn't getting his premarin and if I get told once a day someone is going to sue me, it's a slow day. I've had a crazy pregnant chick on crack try to attack me and the DOCTOR took her down!!! I've yelled at a probable serial killer. I've been yelled at by more than one! I've learned more about hiding places for drugs on the human body than I EVER wanted to. I've learned what street names for drugs are. I've got a hand-drawn Christmas card featuring Charlie Brown on it from a guy who is serving 30-something years. I've learned that most any pill can be crushed and snorted (even if it doesn't do anything, it just seems to make them happy to do it). I've seen boils in places I NEVER wanted to see.

Interesting doesn't quite do it justice!!! But, it is the most fun job I've ever had. There is no way in the world I could go back to being a normal nurse now!!

The next question: "Don't you get scared?"  My first day, I thought I was doing really great. I was just amazed that I wasn't more nervous. Then, I looked down at the pack of meds I was holding, and realized my hands were shaking. So much for calm, cool and collected!!

But, after a while, I came to realize I feel safer (and am safer) than anywhere I've ever worked. Most of the places I worked had large amounts of narcotics laying around and absolutely NO security staff. It's a recipe for disaster, and I cannot believe that something bad hasn't happened because of that. But, I am surrounded by security where I'm at. We have absolutely NO narcotics and we are NEVER alone with the inmates. How much safer could it be?? The one time someone started to attack, within 15 seconds we had so many officers in there, you couldn't stir them with a stick. NO ONE messes with us! It's awesome!!

Next up: "What on earth do you do when you see them out??"  OK, that one did worry me when I first started. I am still cautious when I am out. I keep a better eye on my surroundings than I ever have. But, I really haven't had issues. As funny as it is, I've ran into a lot of our, ahem, clients out. And, I am amazed that they are actually super nice! They usually tell me how they are doing. Then, a lot of times, they want to introduce me to their family! "This is Nurse Emily! The one I told you about!" Makes me wonder what their dinner conversations are like...

I love to talk about my job. I love to tell people the day to day pieces of it, but due to confidentiality, there is a lot I can't say. But, I thought some of you who don't work in this field might get a kick out of this. Ask me about my job any time you want. I can guarantee you I've got a story or twelve that'll make you laugh your butt off!!!

Update on the sugar free cake/brownie mix

I cannot voice to you how amazingly good the Pillsbury sugar free mixes are. And, it wasn't merely my carb-starved self that thought so! I had a widely varied test group on the chocolate cake and everyone from the 9 year old to the 96 year old said it was fantastic. It was super-fluffy (if that's a word. Very light) and the icing is fabulous. I could have eaten the whole can without even the cake.
I made the brownies tonight. The mix is so thick when you make it, it's like fudge modeling clay or something. I was pretty worried about it. But, my fears were for naught! It was delicious. Chad is a picky man when it comes to brownies. He wolfed one down and took 2 to work tonight. So, they are Chad tested and approved!!
I have not yet made the yellow cake mix, so I'll have to report back on it. I may try making the cake mix cookies with it. I also have yet to try the white icing. So, I'll update when we go through all this batch and are all sweet-starved again!

Sugar Free and Low Carb Finds

Low Carb Happiness is abounding in my world!!!!  I have found some new goodies!!!

The Carb Master Yogurt that I love from Kroger has new flavors!!! Tropical fruit is good, but the WINNER is... are you ready? Are you able to handle this????

CARROT CAKE!!!!

Oh, it is so good!  It has those lovely spices to it. Oh, good, good, good stuff.

And, a handful of new Low Sugar and Sugar Free stuff from Pillsbury is making its way to my house! I haven't tried them yet, but will do so and report back!

Chocolate, Chocolate, Chocolate. 

Oh, and yellow cake mix, too. 

Emily's gonna be bakin' soon!

I guess this is a short, information post, which is such an unusual thing for me. I usually go for long and useless. But, hey... gotta mix it up a little. Sometimes!!!

Rest in Peace, Mittens

Mittens final journey is complete. His ashes came home with us today. To be such a huge presence in our lives for 15 years, his ashes were so tiny. Maybe 1/4 of a sandwich baggie worth. We got the perfect urn for him. We always laughed and said that despite the fact that he was a scaredy cat, he thought he was absolutely a god. That we should worship him and, really, so should everyone else.

The urn we found is an Egyptian goddess that looks like a cat. Bastet, goddess of (amongst many other things) joy. Fitting, I do believe. 

The urn

I hadn't cried in several days, but did so last night when we brought his ashes home. I put them in his urn, and I just carried it around for a little while. I don't know why, but it was so hard to put that urn down. So, I just carried it over to the door and we stood and watched the snow. It was rather odd, but I think that was what I had to do so say goodbye this one last time. I talked to him for a little while and told him the story about when he was just a kitten and went flying out our front door and sunk right up over his head in the snow. That broke him of running outside for about 10 years. I know he wasn't there, couldn't hear it and wouldn't have understood it if he did hear it, but it felt good to tell him a little story about a time that made me smile. 

Finally, I put him down on the library table that is under our TV. My original plan was to put him in the curio cabinet. But, for right now, I need to see the small reminder of him. So, in the living room he remains. 

Rest in Peace, Mittens.

April 1996-December 21, 2010

We can be heroes...

"I, I will be king
And you, you will be queen
Though nothing will drive them away
We can be Heroes, just for one day
We can be us, just for one day"
-"Heroes" by David Bowie


My friend Charles posted a question on his Facebook today. It's one I've probably given a few seconds thought here and there through the years, but never really sat down and given deep consideration. 


"Who inspires you?"  


i thought about this all day today, off and on. As we all know, I have the attention span of a gnat, so that is how I think... off and on. So, it's been stewing in my brain, trying to figure out who inspires me. And, while that stew was cooking, another little thought, a side dish I suppose, was also baking...


"Who is your hero?"


I've always had a incredibly active imagination. I create whole worlds inside my head. I have made several attempts at writing them down, but due to the ADD thing... never works. I'm much better suited to short bits of writing like this. But, in those worlds, I am sometimes a hero. Not the kind with tights and a cape, just the kind with a good idea, and a helping hand. I win the lottery and help people who are down on their luck. I plan an entire building out just to distribute food to the needy. I revitalize a neglected downtown. In my little world I don't do it for recognition. Even in the real world, I don't do nice things then put up the neon arrow saying "Come here to praise me for what I did today!" I do the nice things because they make me feel good, and because sometimes people just need someone to be nice. I just wish I could do more of them in the real world, rather than the one in my head. 


So, I realized that my heroes, idols and inspirations are the people who I model my other-worldly self after. The quiet heroes. The people who help and never tell anyone. The ones who quietly step in and make the world better and then quietly step out, often with no recognition. 


I remember long-lost friend coming to see me in the hospital and bringing his family photo albums. I didn't know his family at all. But, he wove these wonderful stories about his family, like a vivid tapestry. He got me so involved in the stories that I forgot to be scared and forgot how very badly I hurt. He didn't see it as doing a big thing, never expected the thanks I gave him. He just wanted to make me feel better. That is a hero to me. No cape, no tights.


I remember another time when I honestly thought my world was coming to an end. It was high school. I was the typical overly-dramatic drama queen teenage girl, but the problem felt so real to me. I hit a point in my life where I knew I could not continue a relationship and had to end it, but was so afraid of what I would be WITHOUT that relationship that it terrified me. I was stuck. And, I was scared, disappointed in myself and downright depressed. I reached out to one of my best friends and he dropped everything, came to see me and gave me some painful advice. He rubbed my back while I cried and held my hair while I puked and then made me get on the phone and end the relationship. Then repeated all the above steps after I did what had to be done. He also brought me gummy bears. Again, no cape, no tights, no article in the paper singing his praises, but he was my hero.


My friend Heather drove me home, so I could cry and hold my cat when I was told I had to put him to sleep. My husband carried 3 handkerchiefs to my Aunt Sandy's funeral, and again to my Uncle Ronnie's funeral, because he knew I never remember Kleenex and knew I would cry. 


I could make lists and lists. But, I've babbled far too much. 


I've never had a need for someone to swoop in with super-human strength and save me from a speeding train. I've never needed someone to whisk me out of a dangerous situation. So, maybe my idea of hero is different than others. But, the heroes that I know have made my life easier, more bearable. They have shaped who I am, in a positive way. They've saved me from pain, fear and most often and importantly, they've saved me from myself. 


So, who inspires me? Who are my heroes? They are my friends, my family, my husband, my coworkers. They are the people who tell me it will be okay. The people who lead by example and SHOW me it will be okay. They are the people who take the risks to be what I need at that moment. 


And, in my head, they have a cape, maybe even tights. And, they have my praise and eternal gratitude. It's not a bat signal, but it's the best I have.