Adventures in Travel Nursing the Air Force

Christmas Visitors and Christmas Cookies

2011-12-24T16:26:00.000-08:00

This is turning out to be a very special Christmas. . . despite the fact that Brandon is working 12 hour shifts the 23rd, 24th, and the 25th.

We have good friends stationed in Florida who asked if they could stay with us the 23rd on their way home to see family in Arkansas. Um, yes!! I hadn't seen my friend in two years, I was so excited to have them visit. . . even if it was going to be super short. Brandon had to work, but he got to spend some time with them on the 24th before they left. It was so much fun, and I loved having our very first house guests in our new home.

But even more exciting. . . my parents called and said that they are coming to visit on the 26th! So my parents, my sister, my two brothers, and their puppy will all be camped out at our house for a few days. I seriously can't wait. It will be so much to have a big family celebration!

I have to admit, I am a little bit nervous, since we've already had one Christmas disaster. I baked and decorated cookies, and placed them in a decorative tin underneath the Christmas tree. I honestly didn't think anything about it. . . until the next morning, when I walked in and found our German Shepherd puppy with his head stuck in the tin. He had eaten a dozen frosted cookies. This was not good.

He made it through the day without having an upset stomach, so I thought we were okay. But at 1:00 AM, while my house guests were trying to sleep and Brandon was at work, the dog began vomiting. Over, and over, and over again.

The smell was about as rancid as the time Brandon put raw fish guts in the garbage can (in the middle of summer) and forgot to place the can at the curb on trash collection day. It was so bad that I began vomiting. All while trying to be super quiet so that I wouldn't wake our sleeping guests.

The puke fest continued for three hours straight. After it was finished and all of the vomit was cleaned up, it took carpet cleaner, Lysol, Febreeze, Febreeze Air Effects, and two Scentsy burners to hide the stench enough for me to sleep in the room.

The silver lining to the story is that I may never be tempted to eat a frosted sugar cookie again.

Dream Sheets

2011-12-04T12:36:00.000-08:00

Last week, Brandon received an email that it is time to fill out his "dream sheet." The dream sheet is where we get to list the places we would like for Brandon to receive an assignment.

We're only six months in at this point, so I was a bit surprised that it's already time to be thinking about this. We had been told that we could potentially be stationed here for six years, so PCSing feels very far away. But, realistically, they could move us much sooner than that (and we could request to move anytime after the two year mark).

Filling out the dream sheet is complicated for us. We have to make some major decisions. Brandon is required to work ER for two years, but can request to switch to something else after that. It's not guaranteed that the request would be granted. . . there is a shortage of ER nurses, so if the needs of the Air Force dictate him staying ER, then that has priority.

There are only a few bases that have fully functioning hospitals with ERs. So, if he stays ER, there is a limited number of options for the next duty station. Of these, only one or two would make the cut for an actual location based dream sheet. The rest of our top bases do not have ERs, and would require a career change.

So, the big question is, what does Brandon want to do with his career? Honestly, I don't think he has an answer to that yet. He is still so new to the Air Force that he is still learning about all of the opportunities he has. He could go a lot of different directions, and he's still trying to decide what the best fit is for him. I think there is a strong chance that he will stay ER and eventually go into ER management. He loves the ER, and he is good at it.

The real question for us has become whether Brandon is going to make a firm decision on a career path and list duty stations where he could further that, or just "roll the dice" so to speak by putting down our top location choices and agreeing to work wherever they stick him.

As crazy as the last option sounds, we are honestly thinking about it. He'll be a Captain when this next PCS happens, and we've seen the same thing happen to experienced Captains over and over again here: they get this duty station, work a few weeks in the ER, then get pulled to another department. Captains need to get management experience in order to advance to the next rank, so sometimes they get randomly plugged into available management spots. It would be disappointing to sacrifice our very top choices for duty station in order to stay ER, then Brandon get switched to another department anyway.

Like I said before, it's complicated. . . and truthfully, we could think about this from every angle and make a perfect plan-- then the Air Force could throw us a curveball that changes everything.

But in the meantime, it's fun to dream about all the exciting places we could live.

Vacation is just around the corner

2011-11-30T18:38:00.000-08:00

I was hoping to have a funny story to tell you about some dramatic cooking disaster on Thanksgiving. . . but it went off without a hitch! It was actually quite a lovely day, and the cooking wasn't even stressful. My, how I have changed since the summer that Brandon and I were engaged and I actually broke down crying in front of him because he asked me to cook him some bacon and eggs and I was unsuccessful at both (and nearly burnt the house down when the bacon pan caught on fire). I never thought that a mere 5 years later, I would successfully cook an entire Thanksgiving dinner by myself. . . well, minus turkey, which simply needed to be reheated in the oven for a couple of hours.

Now we are in full Christmas mode. We weren't going to buy a tree this year-- but we did. We weren't going to decorate-- but we did. We weren't going to buy each other any presents-- but we did (sort of. We bought two snorkel vests for our upcoming vacation. More of a life insurance type thing than a Christmas extravaganza, but still).

Our "real" gift is the vacation, which works out pretty well since it's pretty much "free."

So what is that vacation? Well. . .

It involves some snorkeling. . .

some kayaking. . .

and some time at sea. . .

We are cruising to the Bahamas!

Well, *I* am cruising to the Bahamas. We're hoping that Brandon gets to come along. We've already been thrown a few curveballs that threaten to ruin his vacation. But so far, we've been able to juggle them all. Here's hoping we've seen the last of the problems, and that it will be smooth sailing from here on out!

Thanksgiving: New Traditions

2011-11-22T18:35:00.000-08:00

We don't normally do the big Thanksgiving meal. I love it, and always loved it growing up. But it was never practical when Brandon was travel nursing. Our Thanksgiving tradition became going to out eat. . . usually for Thai food.

We briefly flirted with the idea of doing the big family meal this year because my parents mentioned the possibility of visiting. But when their visit didn't work out, I assumed we would do like always and just go out to eat. There's a Thai restaurant nearby that I've been dying to try. I've been saving it specifically for Thanksgiving.

But today (Tuesday, as in two days before Thanksgiving), I mentioned to Brandon that I've really been missing my grandmother's dressing, and that I might make a batch this week. Brandon heard that and thought I was offering to make Thanksgiving dinner. His eyes lit up and he said, "Yeah, I would be totally fine with that. Some dressing, maybe some sweet potato casserole. You could do a chicken if you don't want to cook a whole turkey just for us. But if you do the turkey, we could use the leftovers for turkey noodle soup or something like that."

"Oh," I stammered, "You mean. . . me cook the whole meal instead of going out to eat?"

"Right! That was a great idea. Thanks, babe."

. . .

So, two days before Thanksgiving, I headed to the commissary. At 5:00pm.

Without a meal plan, a grocery list, or recipes. Without the faintest idea of how to cook a turkey.

I know.

I'm an idiot.

My grocery shopping trip was chaotic, to say the least. I walked the entire store four times. I bought items totally on instinct. Thanks to my Food Network addiction, a decent sensory recall, and several opportunities to scope out the shopping carts of women who obviously knew what they were doing, I managed to walk out of the commissary with every single ingredient necessary to make all of our favorite Thanksgiving dishes.

I even had one miraculous stroke of luck, and one moment of brilliance.

The miraculous stroke of luck came when it was time to pick out a turkey. Obviously, they were pretty picked over this late in the game. There were a handful of HUGE frozen turkeys, and several frozen turkey breasts. Neither one felt right for us. I wanted a small-medium size whole turkey. I was seriously regretting not ordering a restaurant turkey, like I had thought about when my family was possibly coming.

I happened to glance into another shopping cart and saw it. A reasonably sized whole turkey, fully cooked. What?!? Where were those? I had been up and down every aisle in the store and hadn't seen anything like that. As it turned out, there were a few secret, hidden turkeys. Fully cooked, smoked turkeys that weren't actually out on the floor. Thanks to a very kind manager who took pity on me (it probably didn't hurt that I asked him, a man, if he could tell me how to cook a turkey), I scored the very last one. When I first asked him about cooked turkeys, he said they didn't have any and that I had probably seen someone with a rotisserie chicken. But when I said, "Okay, so this frozen raw turkey. Do I just, you know, put it in the oven?" he said, "You know, we actually did have some smoked turkeys in the back, let me see if we have any more left." He brought it out and said, "You can just heat this in the microwave." Hahahahahaha. I was so, so grateful to him for finding me the perfect turkey.

The stroke of genius happened when I was thinking about cranberry sauce. I definitely wasn't going to make cranberry sauce from scratch. Neither of us really even like cranberry sauce. I just take a little each year because I do like having something light, bright, and fruity with my turkey and dressing. So, I started thinking about pomegranates instead. My first thought was to get a couple of pomegranates and use the seeds in a little salad. But since they were out of pomegranates, I had my little moment of brilliance-- cranberry pomegranate martinis. Perfect, right? You get the cran and the pom, those perfectly tart Thanksgiving flavors, but in a yummy pre dinner cocktail. Oh yes. I'm pretty sure martinis will be our new Thanksgiving tradition.

When I texted Brandon that I had bought a turkey and was going to cook the entire Thanksgiving dinner, he was so excited. He wrote back that he couldn't wait to have our first "real" Thanksgiving together. I realized he was right-- we had never had the full Thanksgiving experience together.

So with that, here is the menu for our very first "real" Thanksgiving:

Pomegranate Cranberry Martinis
Wheat rolls
Watergate salad (a family fave)
Smoked turkey with dressing
Green bean bundles
Sweet potato casserole
Fried Okra
Sugar Free chocolate pie

I'm thrilled about our new traditions!

Catching up, and big changes.

2011-11-07T11:59:00.000-08:00

Seems like it's getting longer and longer in between posts. A lot has happened around here, so I'll try to do a little catch up!

We have a new baby in the family. He was definitely a surprise! Brandon has been begging for a German Shepherd for years. This little guy fell right into our laps-- he's a Purebred, and was 5 months old when he came home to us. He had a medical condition that made him "special needs." This condition (which I would name if I could remember what it is) affected him so badly that when we got him he couldn't even walk. His first owner took him to a shelter. He was adopted there, but the second owner got spooked by a veterinarian who had a glass-half-empty attitude. So, the second owner decided he couldn't keep him. It took Brandon about 2 seconds to decide that we could handle it. He hadn't even met the dog yet. :)

The awesome thing is that two weeks later, the medical condition is pretty much non-existent. All it took was a couple weeks of meds, a nutritional change, and some patience as he learned to walk. He is now RUNNING and GALLOPING around our house. You would never know that anything had ever been wrong. I'll be honest. . . it's sometimes a headache to have a 50 pound puppy around here, but thankfully, GSDs are incredibly intelligent and easy to please. Right now, our biggest problem is that he likes to drag all of the dirty laundry from the hamper into the living room floor (I know the obvious solution is to keep the laundry room door closed, but I swear, he's figured out how to open it). Yes, it's embarrassing when somebody drops by the house and I have to explain why my bra and Brandon's boxer shorts are in the floor, but if that's the biggest problem we face, I'll take it!

Another big change is that I cut off my hair for Locks of Love. I haven't yet taken a good picture of the final product, but my hair is now pretty short (shorter than it is in the picture above), with heavy bangs and layering. It's the most edgy haircut I've ever had. When I'm in the mood to wear a pretty dress to church, I'm not a fan. . . but when I'm rocking my skinny jeans, boots, and a cute scarf, I LOVE it. It's so much fun. I kind of want a nose ring now too, but Brandon isn't convinced.

Brandon took me to a Renaissance Faire, and I got to fulfill a lifelong dream-- I met Captain Jack Sparrow! The RF was a benefit for St. Jude's, and I loved it so much that I want to volunteer next year.

We've also been doing quite a bit of fishing. Sadly, we haven't caught a thing. But when our friends catch fish, they sometimes give it to us, so we've enjoyed some really awesome fresh fish dinners! I've never been a big fan of the water, but Brandon's actually gotten me to go fishing in the ocean, in a canoe. Yes, it was kind of scary. . . but canoeing beside a school of dolphins is quite possibly one of the most amazing things I've ever experienced. I'm enjoying the water so much that I actually asked for a snorkel set for Christmas, and plan on doing some snorkeling next year.

Speaking of next year, it looks like we're going to be doing some major traveling. Possibly some together, definitely some separate.

Remember that vacation we were planning to take for our 5th anniversary? Our second honeymoon, first real vacation? The one that we had to cancel three days prior, because the Air Force disapproved the itinerary at the last minute? Well, even with travel insurance, we didn't get any of our money back. But, the company we booked through was nice enough to give us a credit toward a future trip, worth 75% of what we had spent. So, we used our credit to book a new trip for next year. We will NOT attempt to go to Mexico again, we have decided to go somewhere completely different. So far, Brandon's leave is approved and there are no problems with our chosen itinerary. But, we've learned that anything can happen. So while we are hoping to travel together next year, if Brandon's leave falls through at the last minute, I'll be going solo. On a trip out of the country. Yikes! Brandon is insistent on this. If we cancel, we'll lose the credits/our money. Brandon is definitely not cool with that. So, either way, I'm going on this vacation. We are just praying that Brandon gets to come along! I would be seriously bummed to travel and have all of these amazing experiences by myself. I want my best friend with me.

Brandon will definitely be doing some solo traveling. He's scheduled for a TDY early next year, and it's the kind I can't tag along on. . . which is too bad, because he'll be going somewhere that I actually really want to go. It's a pre-deployment training TDY, where he will have weekends off, so I am keeping my eyes open for super cheap flights. If I could find one of those $99 round trip flights, I would totally fly up for a weekend to visit him.

Of course, pre-deployment training means that he might be doing some MAJOR traveling of his own next year. I try not to think about that though. When Brandon first went to training, they told him that he would probably have between 12 and 24 months before first deployment. That sounds like such a long time. . . until I remember that he has now been in for over six months. Time is flying so fast. Just another reason I am praying that his leave doesn't get messed up again-- I want that real vacation with him before he is up for deployment.

Putting down Roots

2011-09-22T15:39:00.000-07:00

We just finished our 12th week here. If this was a travel nursing assignment, I would already have packed up most of the house and we would be loading up the car on Wednesday morning!

Instead, we are putting down roots. Literally.

It feels like we've been here much longer than a typical travel assignment, probably because we've squeezed so much more life in over these past three months. Less sightseeing, definitely, but more life. We've developed friendships, we've settled in. We've decorated our house and had dinner parties. We've gotten used to the grocery stores and visited our favorite restaurants more than once. We've met people at our church, and we know our neighbors' names and chat with them at the mailbox or in our shared driveway. It's different than our travel lifestyle, where we remained rather anonymous and were focused on seeing as much as possible instead of getting to know the area well. It really is a different mindset. When we were somewhere like D.C. or California, our priority was seeing as much as we could, as quickly as possible. There was just so much we wanted to squeeze in that we couldn't spend any real time anywhere. Here in our new "hometown", there is still SO much we haven't seen or done, but we're taking our time and actually getting to know the place and the people. It makes a difference. We're normally ready to move on by now (unless it's a pretty special location), but we're really settling in here. . . which could be a dangerous thing, since we could be here for 6 years or we could have to leave in 6 months.

About those roots: When I said literally, I meant it. We are "landscaping." That's landscaping in quotation marks, because we have no idea what we are doing (remember how we haven't even conquered the grass yet?? In fact, it's completely brown again because the weed killer we put on it killed everything) and because we are going the low budget flower bed route. But a few potted plants and three days of sweating it out in the "garden" has made a HUGE difference. Honestly, just pulling out the dead plants and adding fresh mulch improved it-- the few things I planted were just the icing on the cake. We are really lucky to have a super long planting season here in the Deep South, which means that even my 50% off bargain bin plants are taking off! Here are a few of my favorite things:

Chives, spearmint, and peppermint. I also just have to brag about the pot. . . Lowes end of the season clearance, I grabbed it 90% off for $1.57!!

Sweet basil, parsley, and (hopefully) oregano. I just planted the oregano seeds, so we'll have to wait and see on those.

Soon to be Thyme, Rosemary, and Cilantro. Another steal-- these pots were $9.98 at the BX, but I grabbed them from Lowes for $1.28 each!

These are tomato seeds. Honestly, I have no idea if these are going to grow, but I decided to give them a try. I'm following directions on these. I'm supposed to keep them underneath plastic wrap until they sprout, then transfer them to a hanging pot. We'll see.

Our lemon tree! Citrus trees do really well here (duh) and I'm hoping this one will pay for itself since I use lemons in my cooking every week. If nothing else, it adds something pretty to our backyard. The extra fencing is for Fiona, who is small enough to slip underneath the real fence.


My mums. I fell in love with these and they add a much needed pop of color to our house.

Obviously, I really love the practical things. I spend a small fortune on herbs for cooking every week, and have always wanted to grow my own. Tonight I'll be enjoying my first glass of iced tea with real mint from my own plant!

Random thoughts about nothing and everything

2011-09-15T05:04:00.000-07:00

A couple of weeks ago, we found out that one of our friends/Brandon's coworker will be deploying soon. It's odd how much it has affected us. We've had friends deploy in the past, but they have always been "old" friends that we don't live around or see on a regular basis. It's very strange now to have this couple that we actually hang out with and see regularly, and know that in a short time he will be heading to Afghanistan. . . and his wife will be going through her first deployment. All the sudden this "military" thing feels a lot more real.
Our yard is terrible. I apparently know nothing about how to keep even basic things (like grass) alive. It's embarrassing. Most of the other wives on base take amazing care of their lawns. They mow, weed, water, fertilize, mulch, and plant flowers that just naturally blossom into loveliness. Me, not so much.
I have a love hate relationship with the commissary. I love that I can buy refried beans for 75 cents when they are 1.25 everywhere else. I love that cheese is about half the normal price, and that sweet potatoes are only 59 cents a pound. I hate that I always forget to bring cash to tip the baggers, so I have to go through self checkout, and I always screw up the machine. Last time, the service guy had to come fix it three times during my attempt at checking out. I also hate that I don't pay enough attention to the calendar and always wind up at the commissary on payday.
All of the friends I've made here will be PCSing before Brandon deploys. I don't know a single person who will be here when he's in the desert and I'm here alone.
I clean the house *almost* every morning, after breakfast. On the days when I clean it, nobody comes over. But if I skip a day and let things get messy, at least two people will pop by unexpectedly. Every time.
I'm pretty sure we are the only couple in the whole neighborhood that doesn't have kids.

2011-09-08T06:41:00.000-07:00

I realize I haven't posted many "adventures" lately. That's because life feels fairly boring. We're settled. We're in a house. We're experiencing something close to "suburban life" and it isn't nearly as exciting as Wisteria Lane over here. . .

Of course, maybe that's just because I've adjusted.

I didn't bat an eye when the guard gates were wearing their M4s across their chest (an M4 is an assault rifle, if you don't know) yesterday when I was coming home from the grocery store. Afterward, I thought, "Wow, that was kind of weird." Not that they were wearing them, but that it felt so normal. I mean, most people don't have to get cleared by someone in ABUs with a pistol on their thigh and an assault rifle across their chest, just to get home to put the groceries away. Yet, we do, and it's somehow normal.

It's also become very normal to hang out and have intimate conversations with people I've just met. There's an instant bond between military wives. It's different than the bond of, say, attending the same college or even going to the same church. With military wives, there is an instant camaraderie and friendship based on mutual experience, and that's really cool.

Everyone always asks me, "Is it like Army Wives?" I always laugh. . . because the answer is both yes and no. It's nothing like Army Wives. And it's totally like Army Wives. It isn't nearly as dramatic or crazy. Life is a lot more laid back and less centered on the military. We wives certainly don't always look like we stepped out of a magazine (it's way more likely to see a wife wearing flip flops and a baggy t shirt to the commissary than one of Claudia Joy's gorgeous dresses). Apparently, some of the military details are wrong. . . I wouldn't know anything about that personally, but I hear that often. :) Yet, a lot of the dynamics are there. Sadly, you do occasionally get a Lenore Baker, Marilyn Polarski, or Jennifer Connor (characters on Army Wives, for those who don't know-- don't want to give the impression that I'm calling out actual people by name, haha). You have some bickering and squabbling and wives trying to be "in charge". You have the politics and the "good ol' boy" system of the military.

BUT, on the positive side, you have wives who would do anything for each other, who are there in a heartbeat when needed, and who support each other through all of the craziness. . . wives who throw baby showers for women they've just met, take meals to wives who are sick, and who drop everything to be there for wives whose husbands are deployed. So no, it's not like Army Wives, and yes, it's a lot like Army Wives. . and mostly in good ways, if you look for the good. :)

2011-08-19T09:33:00.000-07:00

We've been doing this Air Force base life thing for seven weeks now. It's starting to feel normal.

Brandon loves his job. He really does. It's different than a civilian nursing job. . . and it's hard to explain the differences. I think the best way to describe it is "Officer first, specialty second." He is still an ER nurse, but that comes second to his role as an Air Force officer. He doesn't just work his ER shifts. He has many more responsibilities-- trainings, briefings, meetings, TDYs, etc. It's more responsibility, but he is up for the challenge and loves it. It really fits him well. He is definitely doing what he is meant to do, and I'm so proud of him.

The downside is that he works more, which means less time together. That is an adjustment for us-- we are used to having nearly unlimited time together. . . and we still really love that time together. So it's been tough to give some of it up. But we're settling into a "routine" (routine in quotation marks, because every single day is different around here!) and learning to make the most of our time.

We *still* haven't completely unpacked. I know, I know. So wrong.

We did get to have a "sightseeing day" in New Orleans. We had a meeting we had to attend there, and took the opportunity to see the French Quarter! It was a blast. Really. I'm a huge fan of the French Quarter (though not of New Orleans in general. . . the traffic was crazy and the roads were terrible). But the Quarter was a blast-- yummy food, live music, open markets. It was a great day.

My favorite market!


We had a big sampler: seafood gumbo, crawfish etoufee, jambalaya ,and shrimp creole. YUM!

Since I last blogged, we have also celebrated our 5th anniversary and Brandon's birthday. Whew! It's been a crazy month, and it doesn't look like it will be slowing down any time soon!

It's all a blur. . . and my very bad day.

2011-07-27T08:22:00.000-07:00

We've had internet for nearly a week and I am just now updating! Why? Because if I could sum up our new life in one word, that word would be "BUSY."

The whole thing has been one big adjustment, but the thing I am struggling most with is just how crazy busy we are. I knew Brandon would be working more, which would be tough for me. . . but I was expecting it to be kind of like travel nursing where I was sitting around bored with nothing to do. SO not the case here!

I'll give you a couple of examples to prove how little free time I've had. These might not mean much to you unless you know me "in real life" but if you know me well, you'll be shocked. ;)

I started a new novel over a week ago and am only halfway through it.
I've had my household goods for over a week and still haven't hung pictures or curtains.
I've completely missed the new episodes of Burn Notice and Leverage. . . and haven't taken the time to watch them online.
I have been eating-- are you ready for this?-- TV DINNERS and FAST FOOD.

But the weird thing is that if you ask me what I've been doing that is taking up all my time, I have a hard time coming up with an answer. Everything has been one big blur. All I know is my days look something like this. . .

4:30 am. Crawl out of bed and start the coffee while Brandon goes for a run. Drink my coffee and try to wake up before he comes home. Feed the dogs and make the bed.
5:00 am. Brandon comes home and does pushups and situps while I start breakfast. I have it ready and on the table when he gets out of the shower.
5:30 am. Breakfast with Brandon, then my turn in the shower.

After this, the day becomes a total blur of cleaning, laundry, waiting in offices, paperwork, phone calls, unpacking, meetings, social events, errands, inprocessing, orientations, etc. . . I usually don't even remember crawling into bed.

Yesterday, we decided to schedule ourselves for an hour of tv time together. We wanted to watch the new episode of Chopped, which came on at 9:00 pm. So we worked until then, sat down in front of the tv. . . and I was asleep before the first round was over. One hour of downtime together and I slept through the whole thing!

There have been a lot of changes since I last blogged. We moved into our on-base house and our household goods arrived (obviously). We've made friends and love our neighborhood. Brandon is almost finished inprocessing and will hit the floor next week. There are so many things I want to share about his job and this new life, but I'm going to leave it with one story today. . . and story about a very, very bad day.

The day I realized I'm getting old.

It began with a car shopping trip. We left our second vehicle in Arkansas and are selling it. . . it's the one I drove around, a 13 year old tiny little car that isn't really doable with kids (but sure is fun to drive!). We were going to just drive the one car for a few months, but it's had to go in the shop four times in the last few months and needs to go again. So, it was time for a reliable car for me.

I went in expecting to get a mid-size, semi sporty car. Something fun to drive but that would seat three kids in the back (if you're new, here's the deal-- we're in the adoption process and are approved for up to three kids). As we test drove vehicles, I realized that was impossible. Three kids don't fit into the back of a mid-size, sporty little car. . . especially if all three are in booster seats or car seats. Plus, what if a hurricane hits? I'll have to evacuate and Brandon will have to stay here. So how would I fit three kids, suitcases, important documents and photo albums, a cooler (for formula or snacks or whatever the kids need) and two dogs into a car??

So. . . we bought a minivan. A big, dorky, purple minivan. I call it "The big rolling Barney." I drive a minivan. A minivan. No matter how many times I say it, it still just feels wrong. I'm still in my twenties! I still wear cute shoes and tight jeans! A minivan?!

It got worse.

When I picked up a bottle of wine, they didn't even card me.

That evening, when I drove onto base, the guard at the gate called me "Ma'am." He was probably 18-20. I looked at him and saw a peer. He looked at me and saw a woman driving a minivan. A "Ma'am."

Later that night, during a conversation with Brandon about one of our new friends, I asked Brandon,
"How old do you think she is? My guess is early thirties."

"No way. She looks way younger than you."

. . .

So, folks, it's official. I look old. I look old and I drive a minivan and people call me "Ma'am." Oh, and instead of going out to the movies, my husband and I choose to watch cooking shows for our date nights. . . and I fall asleep during them, at nine pm.

I guess it's time for me to start wearing mom jeans and holiday themed cardigans.

Checking Out

2011-07-11T16:40:00.000-07:00

I'll be signing off of the blog for a bit! We are moving into our house tomorrow, but our HHGs (household goods) won't arrive until next week. Our internet equipment is packed away in the HHGs, so we'll be offline!

Following Orders

2011-07-09T17:33:00.000-07:00

One of the perks (for me!) of Brandon going to COT is that after five weeks of being brainwashed to follow orders indiscriminately, he still does. This first dawned on me when I woke him up at 3:30 am to walk the dogs. I guess he was just so used to being awoken at all hours and given commands that he didn't even think twice-- he just rolled out of bed without saying a word, dressed, then walked the dogs. Ten minutes later, he returned and got back into bed. When I hesitantly asked him to get back up to get me a glass of water, he instantly got back up to do it.

I tested this just a couple of times before letting him in on it. He thought about it for a minute and realized I was right. We had a good laugh, and I never tried it again. . .

. . . until today.

Unbelievably, it still works.

I was feeling pretty lazy today. So, this afternoon, I casually suggested that he clean the kitchen. He immediately jumped up to do it. "Wow, this is pretty awesome," I thought to myself, and decided to push it. When he finished with the kitchen, I suggested he put in a load of laundry. Yes, he instantly turned on his heels and headed to the laundry room. He washed, folded, and put away two loads.

I felt pretty bad for using my newfound power, so I took over the dog walking this afternoon and made him a really nice dinner. But after dinner, I couldn't help trying again. I said, "Since that dinner was so great, do you think you would like to clean the kitchen again?" I didn't really expect anything this time, since I had phrased it as a question and had already told him I would clean up.

"Yes, Ma'am," he replied, jumping up to start the dishes.

Wow.

Don't worry, I won't continue to take advantage of this. I'm not a horrible wife. But it sure was nice today. ;)

Adjusting

2011-07-07T07:32:00.000-07:00

We've been living on base for the past few days, and I've sat down to blog several times. I've just never finished or published each post. Why? Because the whole thing has been one big jumble of great experiences and frustrations, and my perspective on this new life seems to change by the hour.

There have been many positives. We have found a house, and are very excited about moving in soon. I really like the house and can't wait to set up our furniture and make it into a home!! Brandon's new coworkers have been incredibly supportive, offering us the use of their lawnmowers, cooking gear, air mattresses-- whatever we need until our household goods arrive. That is such a blessing, and it's great to have instant support and camaraderie at a new place. The people we've met are very nice, and we are looking forward to getting know them better. We are enjoying the area, have eaten at some amazing restaurants, and had a wonderful time watching fireworks on the beach. We've adjusted quickly to the weather (except for my hair, which is officially a disaster. . . not that it was great to begin with, but it was at least manageable prior to moving here. Now I get about an hour of good hair before it transforms into a flat-on-top/frizzy-on-bottom nightmare).

Unfortunately, all of those positives are often overshadowed by the challenges of adjusting to this new life. There have been some surprises and frustrations. Take Brandon's leave time, for example. Thirty days a year for leave sounds AMAZING. But, in reality, it's not what we expected. We're losing ten of those days right off the bat. . . we purposefully took one on our way here, because we had already paid for a hotel and it was non-refundable. That 1 turned into 2, because Brandon couldn't report on the 4th of July. Now, Brandon is on 8 days of chargeable leave (he wasn't given a choice in the matter). That would be awesome, except that so far he's spent every one of those days inprocessing. All the "leave" really means is that he isn't scheduled at the hospital. He's still stuck doing paperwork and meeting with different offices, and is scheduled for computer orientation and other things. Don't get me wrong, I love that his schedule is *somewhat* flexible and that he's only gone during normal business hours instead of 12 hour hospital shifts. It's just frustrating to me that we're losing 1/3 of his vacation days for the next year (days we were planning on using in a few months to make up for the vacation we had to cancel) and he's still tied up doing Air Force stuff every day.

The leave situation is just one frustration in a long line. I won't go into the rest here. They are just issues with incorrect pay, reimbursements, our household goods, etc. Just a headache (but when it comes to finances, any headache is a big headache).

Just like with anything in life, you have to take the good with the bad. I still think that the positives will ultimately outweigh the frustrations. We're still in an adjustment period. We will eventually get past the inprocessing, get everything corrected, and we will adjust to the new lifestyle. There's a lot to love and embrace in this new life! The headaches are temporary. . . I just have to keep reminding myself of that. :)

To show you it's not all bad, here are a couple of pictures. . .

Fireworks on the beach for the 4th of July

Hugging my husband goodbye before his first day of ~~work~~ "leave."

4th of July

2011-07-04T07:12:00.000-07:00

Happy Independence Day!

A small (okay, big) part of me still wishes that I was boarding our anniversary/"honeymoon" cruise today, but I am excited to spend Independence Day on an Air Force base! American flags are flying everywhere and the spirit of patriotism is going strong.

Be safe and enjoy the holiday!

Enjoying the Gulf

2011-07-03T12:57:00.000-07:00

My sweetheart is sleeping again. He's slept a LOT since he was released-- 9-10 hours a night, plus two naps a day. I think he was exhausted!

The last 48 hours has been very low key. We drove to a pet-friendly hotel Friday night and crashed with the dogs. We ordered pizza and only left the room to grab some decaf coffee downstairs. We slept late, drove the rest of the way the next morning, and dropped the dogs off at their boarding facility. We visited our base, which was exciting! Then we called our hotel and asked if we could check in early. I was hoping to change and hit the beach, but Brandon slept for three hours straight, haha.

We went to a local seafood restaurant last night, which was quite the experience. The restaurant was about 12 feet in the air, sitting on wooden beams. I thought that was kind of strange, because it wasn't on the water so high tide wouldn't be an issue. Obviously, large hurricanes and flooding could be a problem, but in the surrounding area, only one other building was built like that. All others were just normal ground level buildings.

We sat outside on a screened in patio, in order to really experience the mugginess of the deep south (and to get a table quickly, haha). The humidity is out of this world. I grew up in Arkansas, so I thought I was prepared for humidity. . . but I've never experienced anything like this.

The restaurant was a strange combination of typical Northeastern seafood (grilled tilapia, fresh lobster from Maine, etc.), Southern seafood (fried catfish, fried clam strips, fried popcorn shrimp, etc.) and Cajun (seafood gumbo, red beans and rice, alligator, etc.). I ordered off the Cajun menu and probably would have really enjoyed it had I not had the real deal in Alabama two nights before. Seriously, if you're ever in Prattville, stop by Uncle Mick's Cajun Cafe. It is authentic and out of this world. My mouth waters just thinking about it. There is nothing like good Cajun food-- I love it.

Today, we picked up a local brochure and were pleasantly surprised by how much there is to do in the area. I wish I could drag Brandon sightseeing, but I'm going to be nice and let him rest. :) There are some interesting historical sights, a strong military heritage, a farmer's market (very surprising!), blueberry picking, beaches (of course!), outlet mall shopping, and big name concerts/shows in the area!

Tonight we're going to try another seafood restaurant, and tomorrow we're going to check into base lodging and go to a base bonfire and fireworks on the beach. Brandon will report Tuesday morning and our fingers are crossed that we will be able to get set up in base housing that day!

The only thing certain in the military is change.

2011-07-01T20:49:00.000-07:00

Graduation events are over, and it's been quite the emotional weekend!

It all began with the long drive to Alabama. Originally, Brandon had been told that we would have four hours together that first night. Actual time together: none. Nada. I knew this was coming, but it was still tough. . . especially since he was having dinner with his flight. Right down the block from my hotel. Yes, he actually passed my hotel both coming and going, but couldn't stop in to say hello. *sighs* In good news, I had an absolutely delicious Cajun meal with my family.

I didn't get any sleep that night. I was soooo excited about seeing him the next morning! The plan was for him to meet me in the parking lot before my first event (spouses orientation) so that we could have a few minutes together before we were split up for the morning. What actually happened: I waited in the parking lot, watching other couples reunite, while Brandon was stuck in an unexpected meeting and couldn't even let me know he wasn't coming.

As rough as that was, I got over it and really enjoyed spouses orientation. They had a panel of military wives (and one military husband!) answering questions and going over the basics of insurance, benefits, and services on base. It was very informative and it was great to see other "newbie" wives. I only got to chat with a few of them personally, but I was amazed by how we were instantly comfortable with each other.

Finally, noon rolled around and we were able to attend the retreat ceremony and see our airmen for the first time. I had a hard time picking Brandon out of the crowd! I did spot him, but was only 50% sure it was him. He had lost weight and was super tan!

After retreat concluded, the airmen ran out to meet their loved ones. . . well, except for Brandon and his flight. They immediately turned around and left for another meeting.

At that point, I was seriously about to break down into tears. Our families and I waited on the field for what felt like an eternity and FINALLY he was released! I ran into his arms. That first hug was a moment that I will never forget. I'll also never forget his first words: "I love you. I missed you. I only have 45 minutes."

. . .

There were nearly 300 students. All of them were released to spend the next three hours with their families, except for 18 who had to attend a meeting. Brandon was one of the 18. Of course.

We jumped in our cars and headed for the BX so that Brandon could scarf some lunch. He had to leave before his parents even got out of line and made it to the table.

Twenty minutes later, I was sitting in the booth and spoke (out loud) to my phone, "Please ring! Please be Brandon saying that the meeting was canceled!" I looked up and Brandon was walking toward us! The meeting didn't happen and he was free.

So we had some time with him before the final event of the day. After that, we were able to go to dinner as a big family and then he got to come back to my hotel for two hours before curfew.

Skipping over that and to the next day. . . ;)

This was the ugly part. Today should have been an amazing day of celebration. It wasn't. See, we had a little bit of a problem. . .

A few weeks ago, all the students were asked to submit a travel itinerary. Brandon and I were planning our "second honeymoon" anniversary trip, as you well know. We submitted the itinerary and Brandon was told it was fine by three different people.

But it wasn't. Our itinerary included leaving the country. . . and it was disapproved. . . and we didn't find that out until this morning. Immediately after graduation, Brandon had to go try some last minute paperwork in an attempt to get approval. We didn't even have time to snap a picture together. The paperwork was again denied. The officer who had to deny it honestly felt horrible about it, but he wasn't authorized to approve it. He had no choice. Of course, this left us in a lurch. We had to cancel our plans (and lost several hundred dollars. even with our travel insurance) and only had an hour to submit a new itinerary.

There was no time to plan anything else, so we made a quick decision. We're spending just a couple of nights in a hotel then Brandon will report on Tuesday (the first day after the holiday).

That was very hard. This is the first time we have ever planned a big vacation like this. Our honeymoon was three nights in a state park! We were so, so excited, and had spent so much time talking and planning for the trip. But the part that hurts the most is giving up the leave time together. I know it's only been a month and that's nothing in the military world, but we've never been apart this long. We needed the time together to reconnect and destress. . . and Brandon really needed a vacation after the very tough program he just went through!

But all that matters in the end is that we are together again. My sweet husband is sleeping beside me right now. He's sunburned, too thin, covered in bruises and scrapes, has an injured ankle, and is exhausted-- but he's here, and I get to fall asleep next to him tonight.

We'll take our honeymoon eventually. We'll start the paperwork process wayyyy ahead of time, and check with at least ten people before paying for any of it. . . but we will take it. It's important, and we'll make it work down the road.

Meanwhile, I'm going to soak up every minute with my husband over the next three days.

These pictures say it all

2011-06-30T20:14:00.000-07:00

I swear, I don't make up the drama.

2011-06-28T17:33:00.000-07:00

Ha.

Hahaha.

Hahahahahahahaha.

I'm laughing at myself. For being naive and thinking that the actual moving process would go smoothly.

I should have known the day was doomed when early this morning a storm hit. . . a storm that tore my parents' fence down and blew tree limbs all over the road. Still, I braved the drive to myself so that I could be there at 8:00 am just in case the movers really did make it on time.

I wasn't surprised when 8:30 came and they still weren't there.

Still not too surprised at 9:30.

At 10:30, I started wondering if they had been in an accident, or if the storm was so bad wherever they were that they couldn't make it.

At 11:30, I finally called and asked (in my surprisingly timid little voice), "Um, I was supposed to have movers here today and I was just wondering when they might arrive?"

Hahahahaha.

Yeah, the movers weren't coming, and it had nothing to do with the storm (which had already blown over). They had been late on another shipment and weren't even in Arkansas. They decided to come the next day. Without telling me. The manager said they had left a voicemail on Brandon's phone. . . but Brandon has been out on a training exercise and didn't have access to his phone.

. . .

I wanted to say a lot of things. . . none of which I will repeat here. But I didn't. Instead, my fake-nice Southern drawl came out, and I very sweetly said, "I'm afraid that's not going to work. See, my husband is in the field on a training exercise and there is no way I can get in touch with him. I will be leaving the state in the morning. I'm not driving myself, so I can't delay it-- my plans are set. Both sets of our parents are also going out of town, so none of them can be here to release our things-- not that it matters, because I can't get in touch with Brandon to get a letter of authorization for anyone else to act as agent, so I guess we're in trouble!"
Thankfully, the man was very nice. He made some calls and got other movers (the same ones who packed me) to head my way. They left their headquarters within minutes, and four hours later, I had four men moving everything out of my house as quickly as possible. I don't think they were happy about it-- I can't really blame them, since they had to drive so far and will have such a long day-- but they were professional and nice and got my entire house loaded into the truck in less than two hours.

So, I'm bunking with my parents again. In a few minutes, I will be packing my suitcase and attempting to load up in my parents' van. That could be an adventure in itself, as there are six people and two dogs going to be riding together. . . Yes, the babies are going, and will be staying at a boarding facility for a couple of nightes during graduation. I'm trying not to think about it-- you all know how protective I am of them!

Say a prayer for our journey!

Last day

2011-06-28T08:57:00.001-07:00

I'm blogging from my phone, so please forgive the typos!

It's almost 11am and I'm still waiting on the movers to arrive. I'm so bored it's ridiculous. I've cleaned the house, painted my toenails, and done so many pushups I can no longer move my arms. I hate just sitting around with nothing to do.

I can't believe that I'm leaving tomorrow. I can't believe that I get to see Brandon on Thursday. I can't believe our vacation starts in less than a week and that in roughly two weeks I'll be living on a military base. Life is changing crazy fast and I feel like I haven't had time to process it.

I'm nervous about life on base. The military is a whole separate world. I know that life is about to change in ways I can't predict or prepare for, and that's a little scary for me!

Military life will have a few benefits though. I called today to cancel my security service and found out there was going to be a roughly $500 charge for breaking our contract a year early. . . until I later mentioned that we were moving to a military base and the guy said, "Oh, this is a military move? We will wave that fee then." So nice of him to let me know that since I had not thought of Brandon's orders as a way to break the contract. The company just went up a few points in my book.

Half an hour later and still no word from the movers... time for a nap.

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Boxes Packed

2011-06-27T20:14:00.000-07:00

Well, the packers arrived and packed ~~all~~ most of our stuff in boxes today. I've temporarily moved in with my parents. The movers will pick everything up tomorrow and head to our new location. I will give our house one final scrub, then hit the road Wednesday morning!

I can't believe this is all finally happening. It's so surreal. We've loaded up our car and gone somewhere new so many times that it's hard to believe that it's for real. It still kind of feels like we'll just go do this for 13 weeks then come back home.

I think it will sink in more when they actually move my furniture out tomorrow.

I'm thrilled that I will see Brandon at the end of this week. I miss him soooo much! Just a few more days and we will be leaving for our anniversary vacation!

Any guesses as to where we'll be heading? ;)

Things Brandon will discover when we unpack at our new house

2011-06-26T08:23:00.000-07:00

I never actually complied with his detailed filing system. After I paid bills, I just stuck them in the top of the filing cabinet to file later.
I may have done a *tad* more shopping than he realized.
I slept on his pillow, and now it's shaped the way I like instead of the way he likes.
I bought the dogs all sorts of yummy treats to make up for their Daddy being gone, and Ralph has gained almost a whole pound (which is significant for a dog his size!).
I gave his golf clubs to Goodwill.

Think I will be in trouble?? Haha. Hopefully, he will also notice all the good things. . .

I paid all the bills on time, only locked myself out that one time, and only forgot where I parked three times.
I kept his stereo instead of selling it like I wanted (seriously, it's been three years since the thing has even been plugged in. . .)
Some of that shopping was for him, and he now has some summer clothes for life on the Gulf.
The house is (so far) still in one piece. It even got mowed once, hahaha.

Throwing my plans and expectations out the window, and rolling with the punches.

2011-06-24T07:40:00.000-07:00

I hit an emotional wall yesterday. The kind of wall that makes me say, "Forget cleaning!" and curl up in bed with a chick flick and ~~a glass of wine~~ a glass of water because I'm too lazy to pull out a bottle of wine from my already packed suitcase. I'm not sure if it was because. . .

. . . I started pulling pictures off walls and taking down curtains, and our upstairs is now completely dismantled. . . which was surprisingly hard for me. We have so many treasured memories in this house, and they all came flooding back to me as I tore the house apart.

. . . Brandon had to cancel the plans we had made for the first night I get to Alabama, because his class is having a special dinner. Spouses are normally invited and it's a big, fun celebration that I had already bought a dress for. This class is too big, so no spouses. They were originally planning on having the dinner earlier in the week so everyone would be free to see their families when they drove in, but it got pushed back onto "our day" and I get to tack another day onto our time apart.

. . . Brandon had to cancel our plans for the second night I'm in town, because of another dinner. I get to go to this one at least, but I'm disappointed that the entire first day that I get to see him will be spent at scheduled functions, surrounded by people. We will have zero alone time, and I'm annoyed/disappointed/cranky. Don't get me wrong, I'm really excited about (most) of the functions. It's just that after being apart over 3x longer than ever before, walking around campus in a group and having to sit apart at the events is about as close to torture as I ever want to experience.

. . . The dress I bought for graduation will. not. work. Remind me to never again buy a dress in a dimly lit store! It was absolutely gorgeous and perfect in the dressing room. Seriously, most perfect dress I've ever worn. . . the kind of dress you put on and instantly feel ten pounds slimmer and a thousand times sexier. . . until I tried it on yesterday and realized that in bright light, it's completely see through. Not even sure how that's possible, since it's a blue dress and the material isn't super thin. But walking outside in that dress is about like walking through the new body scanner at the airport. The graduation is an outdoor event. Bad, bad combination. I don't want to be that girl. I'm going to go slip shopping, but I've been looking for a slip for another similar dress for six weeks now and still haven't found one that works. Any recommendations for a great (non-shaper) slip? Something that is above the knee, but full length (as in, both top and bottom), is fitted enough to wear with slim fitting dresses but loose enough to be comfortable??

In other words, yesterday was filled with a lot of little annoyances/frustrations that really don't matter a hill of beans in the long run.

Yes, leaving this house is sad, but there's some loss in every new beginning.

Yes, it's frustrating that mine and Brandon's plans got canceled, that I completely lost our first day together, that I have to share him with the Air Force and some insurance company on the second day, and that I won't have a single minute alone with my husband until we get in our car to drive the ~~hellish eternity~~ 200+ miles to our hotel. . . and that instead of being able to go out for a nice leisurely dinner that night, we'll be ordering pizza because we're bunking with the dogs that night (in a cheap, pet friendly hotel). . . and that all of my plans for a stress free, romantic reunion just went out the window. But, again, that's only a short term frustration. All that really matters is that we will soon be together again, and that we have an entire week of vacation to look forward to.

The dress is a real bummer, because this dress was perfect. I have a couple of back up options, but if the dress is a ten, the back ups are only a 5 and a 6. But, worse case scenario, I will take the perfect dress on our vacation and wear it to a late dinner at a dimly lit restaurant.

I'm feeling a lot better after my water, chick flick, and a full night of sleep.

We're moving!

2011-06-23T09:23:00.000-07:00

Today, we had our pre-moving survey! This is where the moving company comes out and surveys our house to see what they need to bring for moving day. Which means. . .

We have official moving dates!!

Seriously, ya'll (I'm practicing my southern-speak since we're moving to the deeeeeep south), this is huge. As of Monday, I had been told that it wasn't possible for us to have our household goods moved until sometime in July, which meant that I would have to come back to Arkansas next month. Doesn't sound like a big deal, but it was going to be a major hassle. It would impact a possible closing date for our house, I would have to either fly or buy a vehicle or rent a car, the dogs would either have to come with me or stay at a boarding facility, etc. Nothing life shattering, just a pain in the butt (and added expenses) that realllly stressed me out.

I am not kidding when I say that Monday night, I got down on my knees and prayed for a miracle. Tuesday morning, I got the amazing news that we were scheduled for the exact days I had requested. Huge, huge relief.

So, I am packing our bags and finishing up the last of the house prep! Yesterday, I finished going through our old "memory boxes" and found some letters I had written Brandon years ago. . .

. . . I think I was in love with him long before I realized it or admitted it. :)

Full time wife vs. "Real Job"

2011-06-21T08:25:00.000-07:00

Sorry I've been MIA. The moving process is underway and it has been crazy!

A few days before Brandon got the call from the Air Force, I started writing a blog post about some career decisions I was making. I had been putting off my plans for a long time, waiting on the Air Force, but my GRE was going to expire soon and I wanted to get grad school figured out before that happens.

I worked until the last three years. I started a babysitting business when I was 11 (I was slightly obsessed with The Babysitter's Club) and I continued to babysit throughout highschool. I worked all through college, on top of taking a full load each semester. When we graduated college, I worked (sometimes two jobs!) until Brandon started travel nursing. For us, one of the big perks of travel nursing was that I wouldn't have to work and we could spend more time together. . . something we really needed.

But I always planned on going back to work when we stopped traveling. I enjoy working in my field, and I love school. I want to get my Master's degree (at the very least!) and have a challenging, stimulating job in the field that I love. I worked my butt off in school so that I would have the grades and preparation to be able to do just that.

A few days ago, I was at my Mom's house working on some paperwork for Brandon, and I mentioned going back to school for my Master's degree. She very gently asked, "When are you going to have time to do that? You already have a job. You're doing it right now."

Just to be clear, my Mom is not one of those women who believes the only place for a woman is in the home. She also worked for years until she decided that working a different shift than my Dad and not being home with me just wasn't working for her or our family. So, she became a stay at home mom. She actually tried to go back to work several years ago, but a few weeks into her new job she found out that God was blessing her with a huge surprise-- my baby brother.

The thing is, Mom is right about me already having a job. Right now, being Brandon's wife really is full time work. During these three weeks that he has been gone, I've been "working" 8-16 hours a day. I have a lot of responsibilities: paying the bills (both for here, and for the Kansas City apartment we moved out of), doing paperwork, setting up TMO, preparing our house for the move, selling our house, selling everything we don't want to move, supporting Brandon by writing him letters and being available any time he gets a chance to talk, applying for base housing, researching/scheduling vacation plans (that's the fun part!), packing, taking care of our dogs, handling adoption/immigration paperwork issues, etc. Yesterday I worked from 7:00 am to 11:30 pm, only taking breaks for meals. With him being gone, I have all of my normal responsibilities + his normal responsibilities + house selling responsibilities + moving responsibilities. Obviously, it won't always be this way. . .

. . . but while I won't always have the house selling/moving stuff, it will come around every few years. I'll also have to take over all of his responsibilities every time he gets sent on TDY or deploys. I'm sure there are additional responsibilities and volunteer opportunities on base, which is something I would really like to be involved in. Plus, we are obviously hoping to have kids soon, which will change everything.

I feel very torn. I want a career. I want the challenge and stimulation that working in my field would provide. I justify it by saying that it would be great to contribute financially to our family. . .

. . . but is that even true? Yes, I would be bringing home a paycheck, but not a huge one, and when you consider all of the extra expenses of my working and going to school (gas, eating out more, childcare and/or private school, housekeeping, etc.) I'm not sure that I would be contributing at all.

It's a huge internal conflict for me. What I want (a career) vs. what I believe would be best for my family (staying home). But if I'm not content staying home, then it's really not best for my family. . . because "when momma ain't happy, ain't nobody happy."

Obviously, it's a personal decision for everybody, so please don't think I'm making any kind of blanket statements or judging what is best for you and your family. But for me and my family, I believe that the best case scenario would be for me to be truly content and happy staying at home. As long as Brandon is in the Air Force, my career will have to play second fiddle. Since we will probably be adopting a kid or a sibling group vs. an infant, bonding/attachment will be a bigger deal and it will be even more important for me to be home for at least the first year or two. And I know how Brandon feels-- he will support me 110% whatever I decide, but he really loves having me home. It takes a lot of stress off of him because he knows that I can handle all the paperwork and household duties, and we both love the extra time together. When we both worked, we rarely even got to have meals together. It's definitely nice to wake up and have breakfast together every morning, and to go to bed at the same time every night.

I have a job. A full time job that I'm pretty dang good at. I just have to decide if I'm okay with it being my only job.

Humanitarian aid and the military

2011-06-16T08:28:00.000-07:00

Today, I find myself wishing again that I could be at COT. My husband is giving a presentation on one of my favorite topics-- Africa. He is discussing how the Air Force has helped fight HIV and AIDS on my favorite continent.

Did you know the Air Force is involved in that mission? I didn't. But it's just one more reason that I am proud to call us an Air Force family.

What has struck us the most over the last two years is how involved our military is in humanitarian aid. As a civilian, I was pretty ignorant of that fact. I'll never forget when the earthquake hit Haiti. Brandon immediately wanted to go help with rescue operations and emergency medical treatment. . . but he couldn't, because he wasn't hooked up with any group that had access. We followed the news and later saw that the United States Air Force was one of the first groups to hit the ground. Brandon had already made the decision to join, but that gave him even more confirmation that this was what he wanted to do.

On the news, I typically see more sensational stories about the horrors of war-- soldiers returning with PTSD, the rape of our female service members, the many, many causalities. . . These are all true stories, and deserve coverage. We should never forget the cost of war or minimize the sacrifices our service men and women and their families are making.

But I also want to see these stories-- stories about the Air Force team that has assisted a school for girls in Afghanistan and donated school supplies out of their care packages, about the many ways the Air Force provided relief through Operation Haiti, and about people like Chief Master Sgt. John Gebhardt.

I'm proud to be a part of the military family.

Photographs are important.

2011-06-15T09:04:00.000-07:00

Our 5th anniversary is this summer, and we are going to celebrate! I am so excited. :) All of our anniversary planning makes me reminisce about our wedding. . .

We don't have a lot of wedding pictures, because our professional photographer was taking pictures with a broken camera (that he knew was broken) and didn't use his back up (even though it was there) and his assistant kept physically stopping our families from taking pictures because she wanted us to buy more from them of course. Just thinking about it makes me sick. The handful of pictures that we have framed in our house came from random guests and a few blessed family members who snapped pictures despite being yelled at.

That's it-- the only two digital back ups I have. I have three other 4x6 prints framed in my house, but they are prints only. . . I think before we move, I need to take them somewhere to have them scanned in high resolution just in case anything were to ever happen to them.

For our third anniversary, we had professional pictures taken in Montana, by Shannon Hollman of Shannon Hollman Photography. She is insanely amazing, sweet, and wonderful. The pictures she gave us were so awesome that it helped take the sting out of our lack of wedding pictures. . .

For our 5th, I've always wanted to renew our vows. Nothing huge or elaborate by any means-- just me and Brandon, in the mountains beside a waterfall or lake, with a minister and a photographer to capture the moment. Our vows mean so much more to me now. I meant them with all of my heart when I said them the first time, but they have a much greater depth of meaning after five years of marriage. Plus. . . I still really want those wedding pictures. ;)

I had started making some tentative plans for a vow renewal, then the Air Force called and all the sudden our summer looked completely different! So plans have changed, and I had to scrap my idea, but we will definitely be celebrating in style. =)

And since I am in a picture mood, here are a few more. . . these should make you laugh!

Me and Brandon at our first "prom" over a decade ago. Wow, that makes me feel old!

Another "Prom." I believe this was Brandon's senior year.

Another "prom." This picture has a funny story behind it, but I can't tell it without Brandon's permission, so you'll just have to wait. ;)

My crazy kids

2011-06-14T08:56:00.000-07:00

Today, for the first time, I actually wanted to trade places with Brandon. I'm talking more than just the fleeting moments of envy I've had over some of the things he gets to do (I'll be honest, I think some of the obstacle courses and leadership challenges look like a TON of fun). I mean that there was a point today where if I could have pushed a button and switched places, I would gladly have endured military PT in the Alabama heat to get out of what I was doing.

I took the dogs to the vet. Both of them. By myself.

If you've never met my dogs, you're probably thinking, "So what? How bad could it have been?"

Oh.

My.

Goodness.

I'm pretty sure we'll never be allowed back there again.

Some history on my babies: They are both rescues. They both came from pretty bad situations. They both have issues. Don't get me wrong, I love them to death. But they are not easy dogs. Ralph has major anxiety issues. We've been working on it for years, and we've had a lot of improvement. He used to be on meds (valium and prozac) and a strict behavioral regimen. In the last six months, we've been able to take him off medication completely and he's been fantastic-- almost perfect even. . . until Brandon left for training. Ralph is very much Brandon's dog. . . which stings a little, since he was actually my birthday present and I'm the one who takes care of him. But Ralph chose Brandon as his master and Brandon is very much a security blanket for his anxiety. So with "Dad" out of town, Ralph's anxiety is back with a vengeance.

Fiona is actually great. She's very low anxiety and would be perfectly behaved if she were the only dog in the house. But she has a low tolerance for Ralph, and when he goes crazy, she does too.

Anyway, we normally don't take them to the vet at the same time because they have been on different vaccination schedules, and Brandon and I always go together. . . so it's usually not that big of a deal. But this time, they were both due for bordetella boosters and needed refills of their heartworm preventative, so I didn't think twice about scheduling them together.

I loaded them into the car and drove to the vet-- a new vet. First mistake.

I realized I was in for trouble as we were walking to the door. They were both straining and pulling on their leashes. When we walked in the door, they went crazy. I was trying to check them in, and they were pulling at the bit to get to a puppy in the corner.

The receptionist wanted me to fill out two pages of questions. . . ugh. So I took the dogs to a chair, and started trying to write, while they were pulling and fighting to get free. The paperwork looked awful, because everytime I tried to write something, the dogs jerked my hands. It seriously looked like a 2 year old had scribbled all over it in ink pen.

Fiona, who is a little bit dominant, decided to "mark" the waiting room as hers. Since she had just peed outside, she marked by pooping. I didn't notice it, and stepped on it while walking the paperwork back to the front. . . tracking poop across the floor with every step.

I just left everything and took the dogs outside. A quick walk around the building and they both got under control. We went back in the waiting room and they started waiting nicely. Whew.

Until a man brought in his pet cat. Oh $#!@. My dogs hate cats. Our neighborhood has several strays, and my dogs think it is their personal job to protect our yard by threatening the cats with the loudest, most ferocious barking you can imagine. So when the cat came inside, well, my dogs started acting like rottweilers. They puffed out their chests and let the whole world know that they were not going to tolerate any cats in that waiting room.

Then things got worse. Ralph, super excited that Fiona had joined him in his barking, jumped her. This is a game they love to play. They wrestle all over the house. It's all good fun to Ralph, who happily "loses" every time (and is quite dramatic about it too-- think of a kid playing "cops and robbers" and having a dramatic death scene. Ralph always ends up on his back playing dead, then jumps up for more). I know that they are just wrestling and not actually hurting each other. But to someone who doesn't have dogs, or whose dogs don't play the wrestling game, it looks vicious. So, of course, the cat person is staring at me in horror, probably thinking that my dogs have rabies or something and are about to kill each other.

I took the dogs outside. Again. They calmed down, I sat on a park bench, and they waited nicely at my feet, sitting at attention and obeying my commands. Why, oh why, can't they act like that in front of other people?!

Then, the receptionist waved us back in. I was groaning with dread. At this point, there were two dogs and a cat in the waiting room. It was a not a situation that I wanted to walk into .

Surprisingly, the dogs walked in nicely. I guess they had worn themselves out. I felt the faintest glimmer of hope as we sat in the waiting room and they remained quiet at my feet. Maybe the worst was over?

Ha. Haha. Hahahahaha. I am soooooo delusional.

We got ushered back to the exam room, and the vet joined us a few moments later. When he walked in with his white coat on, Ralph suddenly remembered, "Hey, I hate those guys!" and decided to hide under my chair and bark as loudly as possible. The vet thought he was funny (thank goodness) and nicknamed him Killer. Strangely enough, this is the second dog I've had that has been nicknamed that by the vet. . . the other was a full blooded Yorkie, and Ralph is half Yorkie. Maybe it is the breed? I don't know. Anyway, they finally won him over with treats and proceeded with the exam. Of course, then Ralph morphed from a pretend Rottweiler back into the scared baby that he really is, clinging to my arms and hiding his face in my shirt. Poor guy. In moments like that, I remember why he acts so badly in scary situations. He really is a terrified little dog who has never gotten over his rough start in life.

Fiona was perfect for her exam, of course. She is the mature adult. I could almost see her rolling her eyes at Ralph. I'm sure that in doggy world, the conversation was something like this.

Ralph: I'm scared! I'm scared!!!! Hold me! I don't want a shot. Please, don't give me the shot. Mom, do I really have to have a shot?! Please make that man go away. I'm really really scared! Is that a needle? Oh no!! Go away. Please go away. I'll be good, I promise! Just don't give me a shot!

Fiona: You ridiculous crybaby. We do this every six months, aren't you used to it by now? Suck it up and get over it. Why can't you grow up?

They gave the dogs cheap little treats, and Fiona, of course, spit hers out on the ground and walked away in disgust. Apparently, they had never had a dog do that, and it shocked them. I explained that Fiona will only eat the high end treats and people food. . . and only healthy people food. Give her a cheeto and she will spit it out. Give her a carrot and she will devour it. Like I said-- she's a mature grown up. Ralph, meanwhile, happily devoured at least a dozen treats straight out of their hands.

I breathed a sigh of relief that it was all over, but unfortunately, the worst was still to come. We had to go into the waiting room and pay. At our old vet, the check out was separate from the waiting room. . . not here. And at this point, the waiting room had six dogs and three cats in it. That's when I started trying to somehow magically switch places with Brandon. The drill sergeants could yell at me all they wanted. I would do pushups and sit ups until my muscles were so weak they couldn't hold me up any longer. I would march around in those longs sleeved uniforms and heavy boots in the heat of the day. I would eat MREs. I would go without sleep. Anything, ANYTHING to get out of walking into that waiting room with my badly behaving dogs.

I took a deep breath and braced myself for the storm. The next few moments were a complete blur of barking, growling, another dog attacking Ralph, Ralph jumping on Fiona, Fiona trying to climb up my leg, me tripping over their leashes, cats screeching, vet techs running out to help-- so chaotic that I ended up paying $24 that I didn't owe and only signed a "c" on the credit card receipt. Another person held the door for me so that I could run out as quickly as possible, leaving my sunglasses and inkpen behind.

As soon as we hit the outside air, they were back to normal. Walking nicely beside me, waiting patiently for me to open the car door, riding in their respective seats without budging, waiting patiently at the door for me to find the house key, and now they are curled up together on the couch napping.

Oh, how I love my well behaved dogs. I just wish I could take those dogs to the vet instead of the maniacs they become.

Missing him

2011-06-14T06:38:00.000-07:00

I've surprised myself by how well I've handled this separation. Honestly, I've been so busy and preoccupied by juggling my normal responsibilities, Brandon's normal responsibilities, 100% of the dog care, moving prep and packing, military red tape, planning our leave time, shopping for summer clothes (I don't really have any and am moving to the deep south), yard sale prep, supporting Brandon by writing letters and reassuring him that everything is great and under control here, and trying to sell our house that I just really haven't had time to even think about missing him! I know I have it easy compared to the exhaustion he is enduring right now, but my new "job" is pretty busy right now too!

It's catching up with me though-- the missing him part. Despite not having time to think about it or even really feel it, it's there. . . and it catches me off guard sometimes. Like Saturday night, when I went into his closet to put away some laundry and caught a whiff of his cologne. That sensory experience instantly threw open the gate to all of the emotions I hadn't had time to process, and my eyes had welled up with tears before I even knew what was happening.

Thankfully, his training schedule is letting up a bit. He's still busy, but we're able to talk a little more. Last night, I got to talk to him for nearly an hour, which was completely unexpected and wonderful. I also found out that as long as everything goes as planned, I will get to see him a couple days sooner than I expected!

Functioning Security

2011-06-09T16:07:00.000-07:00

I'm happy to report that not only was I able to remove the deadbolt myself, I put it back on correctly and now have a functioning lock! I kind of wanted to do a victory dance, but my windows were open, so I didn't. I did high five the dogs though. They were very happy for me.

You can take all the precautions in the world. . .

2011-06-08T15:14:00.000-07:00

We've had a week straight of 98-100 degree weather. Today is "only" 95. The difference isn't all that noticeable, but I'm still thankful for it!

I tortured myself today by looking up the temperature in East Glacier. The high was 46. 46 degrees! I would be in heaven. Their warmest day this coming week will be 58 degrees. Oh, what I would give to go back to Montana!!

Yesterday was a 99 degree day, which made what happened even worse.

I got locked out of the house.

The reason that is SO irritating to me is that I am obsessive about not locking myself out. Every time I walk the dogs, I triple check the knob before I close the door, and I carry my cell phone and keys just in case. I do this because we've been travel nursing for three years, and if I lock myself out on the road, I'm in trouble. It's next to impossible to get in touch with Brandon when he is in the ER, and we never have friends or family around with a back up key.

So how did I lock myself out, despite my obsessive precautions?

The stupid lock broke.

I had been in town running errands (finally got the TMO paperwork faxed!) and came home during the hottest part of the day. I was driving our second vehicle, which doesn't have AC, so I was literally dripping sweat by the time I got home. I couldn't wait to walk into my air conditioned house and down a tall glass of ice water.

I put the key in the deadbolt, turned it, heard the lock switch. . . then nothing. The key wouldn't move. I couldn't pull it out of the lock. I couldn't turn the lock either way. The deadbolt was unlocked, but the lower lock wasn't, so I couldn't open the door. The dogs could hear me and started crying and trying to get to me, which stressed me out even more. I yanked and yanked on the key and couldn't get anywhere. . . and the sweatier my hands got, the harder it was to get a grip on the metal, so I had to pull up my shirt and use it to hold onto the key. Eventually, I started trying to pick my lock with a hairpin-- I mean, it does work on tv, right? Oh, it was bad. I'm just hoping none of the neighbors were witnessing this.

Thankfully, I had my cell phone (seriously, what did we do in the days before cell phones?!) and my parents live just down the road, so my Dad came to the rescue with his tool box. Now I just have to get the deadbolt repaired. It locks properly from the inside-- you just can't unlock it from the outside.

I guess the positive note in all of this (other than the fact that my Dad was home from work, and I only had to spend a few extra minutes in the heat), is that I now get to learn how to remove a deadbolt. The last time Brandon was out of town, I got into his tool kit and did all sorts of interesting and new-to-me home repairs. He about had a heart attack when he called and heard me using his electric saw. At least this won't require power tools!

More TMO drama

2011-06-07T07:20:00.000-07:00

The TMO battle wages on.

Last Thursday, when I finally completed all of the self-counseling and application pages (and then recompleted them because their server crashed), and hit "submit", I am 99% sure that the page said something like "Your application has now been submitted to the TMO location you selected. If you need to make any changes, you will need to contact the office personally. They will now begin the review process and contact you if there are any problems. Please submit a copy of your orders within six days."

Since I tend to just, you know, accept what somebody in authority is saying, I relaxed, thinking everything was being reviewed and I would hear from them soon. Yesterday, I called the TMO location to get their fax number so I could send Brandon's orders. . . and found out that the computer system doesn't actually submit our application like it said, that they had never received anything from us, and that I needed to print it and fax the application (along with my POA showing that Brandon has actually given me the right to do so).

Here's the thing. I don't have a fax machine. I don't even have a landline phone to hook up a fax machine. I don't even know anyone with a fax machine-- not even my sister, who owns her own business. Everything is email these days. So I ran all over town (in 100 degree weather, and without AC in my car) on the hunt for a fax machine I could use. . . for a cheap price. Yes, I know a local copy/printing business that allows you to fax. But the last time I went there to fax paperwork to the Air Force, they charged me (are you ready for this?) $90. Yes, that is really a nine with a zero after it. It was $2 a page. I will never do that again.

By 3:00, I gave up.

I'll be honest, I was pretty fed up with the whole thing until last night when Brandon called and told me that his Captain asked him yesterday if he needed help setting up TMO, and Brandon responded "No, my wife has taken care of all of that." The Captain told him he was a lucky man, and Brandon agreed. Well that just made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. . . and motivated me to actually finish taking care of TMO. ;)

Speaking of Brandon, he is doing great. I don't think training will ever be easy, but he's managing well. I can't wait to see him!

Changes and (prematurely) gearing up for graduation

2011-06-04T18:39:00.000-07:00

I love weekends.

I love weekends because my husband actually has time to have a real conversation with me! Not a long one, not anything like we are used to, but a conversation that goes beyond "Are you okay?" "Yeah, you?" "Yeah." "I love you." "I love you too."

Brandon is doing really well. Earlier in the week, I heard exhaustion and stress in his voice. . . now I'm hearing confidence and determination. It is sooooo great to talk to him. It is strange to hear him though. I can tell that he is transforming from civilian to military. It's hard to put my finger on what the difference is, but I can definitely hear it.

I booked my hotel for graduation today. The hotel does NOT take dogs, so now I am scrambling to find accommodations for them. Have I mentioned I hate boarding them? Seriously. They are my babies, and I hate just dropping them off with strangers-- even licensed ones! I wanted to have them at the hotel with me and just do doggy day care during the day, but the only option for that had really bad reviews online. Sighs.

I was a little bummed to find out that spouses aren't invited to the dining out this class. Apparently they have like 300 trainees and there just isn't room at the restaurant they've rented. I bought my dress for the dining out almost two years ago, when Brandon first started the application process and I was delusional enough to think it would go quickly. It's been hanging in my closet with the tags on ever since! I guess it will have to hang there a little longer.

More phone time with my hubby!

2011-06-03T07:06:00.000-07:00

Brandon called again last night! This time we had a whole 4 minutes and 56 seconds to talk. That's improvement, so I'll take it.

He sounded much better than the night before. The confidence was back in his voice and he said he felt "rested." Rested? At training? Where you only get 5 hours of sleep a night? That's. . . odd. They haven't started PT yet. Their baseline test was scheduled for this morning, and then they will start the physical stuff.

He said he still feels really overwhelmed, but that he knows that is just part of it and he'll push past it. He mentioned that they are all given an extra "duty" on top of their other work, and that his involves the computer system (he actually did explain what his computer related job is, but you should know me well enough by now to know that what I heard was something like this: "computer system blah blah blah network blah blah blah haywire blah blah blah).

Speaking of computers. . .

Since I vented all negative stuff yesterday, I am going to balance it out by telling you the positive side of things. Even though TMO was frustrating and took entirely too long (seriously, long enough that I could have driven the 6 hours roundtrip to do it in person and still saved time), I have to say that every helpline person that I spoke to was actually friendly and helpful. Even the guy who had the ~~misfortune~~ pleasure of walking me step by step through making the website work on my computer. The conversation went something like this:

Helpline: You just need to download and install the correct security certificates from our website so that your web browser will allow you to access the site.

Courtney: Huh?

Helpline: Okay, let's start at the beginning. Turn on your computer.

Courtney: Okay. . .

Helpline: Click once on internet explorer.

Courtney: Okay. . .

Helpline: Pull up our webpage and look for the "help tab."

Courtney: Um, I can't find a help tab.

Helpline: Login with your name and password first.

Courtney: Oh, okay. . .

This went on for about 15 minutes, as he walked me step by step through the process. But while I'm sure he was rolling his eyes at me for my complete idiocy, he never once made me feel that way. I apologized to him about a million times, and he always just said, "Not a problem, Ma'am."

So while the system is a pain, the people working in the system are actually quite nice.

TMO update

2011-06-02T12:46:00.000-07:00

Several hours later, and I am still working on the TMO thing. . . here's what has gone down.

I got the number for a help line and called them. They in turn gave me a number for another help line. That help line was able to walk me through the 7,536 step process for making the website work (a bit of an exaggeration, but not by much!). Once the website started working, I was able to start the actual process of "self counseling" and setting up TMO. Sound easy?

Well, it was still all in jargon that I don't understand, so I called Ann, another Army wife friend of mine, who called an Air Force friend of hers, and finally-- FINALLY-- we got page one of the application completed. Yes, I still have quite a bit to go through, but it's progress, people!

The point of this story is two fold:

1. Government stuff/red tape sucks. It would be SO much easier to just call a private moving company and set things up and pay out of pocket. Working through a government system may be "free", but it is so complicated you practically need a degree in rocket science and it takes a thousand times longer. This is why government healthcare terrifies me. . .

2. The military wife community is amazing. Seriously, my friends have no idea how much it means to me that I can call/message them about all of this crazy stuff. Most helpful community/support system ever. I "heart" you guys big time.

Update on Brandon and the frustration of getting things done through the military

2011-06-02T10:29:00.000-07:00

I heard from Brandon! It was a four minute, seven second phone call. Not enough, but more than he had time for, honestly.

They are very busy and he sounded exhausted. . . and overwhelmed. . . and stressed. But I know Brandon, and I know that he can handle it. My only concern is that he will work so hard that he forgets to take care of himself and gets sick. As long as he stays healthy and hydrated, he will push himself through it no matter how tough it gets. And I'm hoping things get easier instead of worse. . . it seems like they get more privileges and things let up as time goes on. He says that right now, every time he starts getting his head wrapped around everything they are asking of him, they dump ten more things on top. I hate hearing him so stressed, and not being able to help carry the burden. I'm just trying to handle everything here at home so that he doesn't have to worry about any of that on top of everything else.

Speaking of that, I've been trying to set up our TMO, and it is a NIGHTMARE. Brandon got his orders on such short notice that he wasn't able to take care of it before he left, and things are too crazy at COT right now for him to deal with it. Luckily, we have an all inclusive POA, so I am just going to get it set up myself. Hopefully.

We had virtually no information on how to actually get it set up, so I started by trying to call what I assumed would be the nearest TMO location. No answer. For days.

I eventually got a phone number for the TMO "hub", which referred me to a website where I could apply and do "self counseling." It was supposed to save me time so that I didn't have to drive to a base and have a meeting in person. Sounds great, right? Yeah, not so much. The first problem was that the site used all of these abbreviations and anagrams that I was unfamiliar with. I called a five year military wife friend of mine, and even she wasn't sure about all of them! But that was just the beginning. Five hours later, and I still can't get the website to work correctly. It doesn't support my browser. I tried using the browser it suggested, but that didn't work either. I tried updating my browser. Nothing. I tried a different computer. Nothing. This is where having Brandon around would really be helpful, because he's good at all of that computer stuff, and I'm, you know, not.

I'm taking a break from it for awhile, because I really don't want to resort to literally pulling out my hair. I'll try again later, and if that doesn't work, I may just sell everything we own that can't fit into the car and buy new at Brandon's duty station. Okay, not really.

It's a wine night.

What I would ask if Brandon had time to talk. . .

2011-06-01T09:35:00.000-07:00

It's really weird for me to have absolutely no idea what Brandon is up to or how he is doing. We're one of "those" couples that texts each other off and on all day. I know, I know. . . we're ridiculous.

To know that he is having one of the craziest "adventures" of his life and to not be able to hear from him about how it's going is very strange. I have so many questions I want to ask him:

What is your roommate like? Is he another nurse or something else? Did you get someone normal or psychotic? Is it the weird guy from facebook who I'm pretty sure is really a serial killer?

What kind of MRE did you have to eat? Did you get to pick or was it randomly assigned to you? Just how gross was it?

Were you able to get PT shorts in the right size, or are you stuck with those extra large ones that make you look like you're wearing a blue hula skirt when you run?

Do they really make you drink gallons of water and then not let you go to the bathroom for hours?

Did they really start yelling at you as soon as you got out of the car?

Do they really make you drink from a toilet when you mess up?

and most importantly. . .

How are you doing?

I've heard that the first week is so busy that people sleep in their uniforms because they don't even have time to change, and that he might not have access to his phone for awhile. So I know better than to expect to hear from him anytime soon. But I'm sending him letters, just in case he gets time to read them, and I can't wait for things to slow down so that I can talk to him and hear how he is doing!

Day 1 of our new lives

2011-05-31T05:39:00.000-07:00

It's official-- as of today, Brandon is Active Duty and I have joined the ranks of military wives missing their husbands.

The last few days have been a whirlwind. Each day started at 4:30 AM, when Brandon would get up and run while it was still nice and cool outside. We've been used to great temperatures in Kansas City, but it's been in the nineties here in Arkansas! Good preparation for the south, I guess.

On top of PT, we've had to gather all of Brandon's gear and get him ready for training. Between us and my Mom, we've spent at least six hours decabling his uniforms (cutting off every tiny loose thread). We were idiots and decabled them before washing them for the first time. When I pulled them out of the dryer, there were loose threads everywhere! So Mom and I went back over them with a fine tooth comb. I was determined that Brandon would not get in trouble at inspection!

Every day was so packed with errands and work that we really didn't have any time to just relax and connect. We tried to watch a movie together, but could only make it through about 15 minutes each night before we fell asleep. We still haven't made it to the end.

So yesterday we decided to take things a little slower. We slept in (only until 6-- still hours earlier than we normally get up!) and spent the morning just hanging out at the house. We drove out to the cemetery and put a flag on his grandfather's grave. His grandfather was a Navy veteran, and we wanted to honor him for Memorial Day. He and Brandon were very close. He is the reason Brandon became a nurse, and I know he would be very proud of Brandon's choice to serve in the Air Force.

We also visited Brandon's grandmothers. "Grandma" told us stories of being a Navy wife. . . how they lived in Rhode Island and drove through New York City at night just to "see the city that never sleeps". . . how they visited D.C. and she and her Navy wife best friend splashed barefoot in the fountain in front of a memorial. . . how she and the other wives stuck together while the husbands were on duty. . . how she experienced her first hurricane while Brandon's Grandpa was away on a ship. As she told her stories, I couldn't help but notice the similarities between them and us. I thought about the cities Brandon and I have driven through just to say that we did, the silly pictures we took in Washington D.C., and the blizzards I survived on my own while Brandon was stuck at hospitals in Montana and Pennsylvania. Maybe I'm cut out to be a military wife after all.

We went on a "dinner date" to our favorite restaurant, came home and double checked all of Brandon's bags, and went to bed early so that he could get up before daylight and hit the road.

This isn't the first time we've been separated, but it is a much longer separation than we are used to-- 3x longer than our longest, and 10x longer than our norm. I know it's absolutely nothing compared to what most military wives go through, and even compared to what we will go through in the future. But even though it's just a little blip in the long run, it's hard. We're best friends, and we are used to doing everything together-- especially after travel nursing, when we've pretty much only had each other for three years.

I wanted to have a really romantic morning together before he left. I decided to serve pumpkin pancakes with real maple syrup, coffee, juice, fruit, and scrambled eggs for breakfast. That was a bad idea, because I ended up stuck in the kitchen when I really wanted to be hanging out with him. Plus, I had never made pumpkin pancakes before, and they ended up burned on the outside and raw in the middle. Not romantic at all.

Our goodbye wasn't very romantic either. Ralph, our dog, has separation anxiety, and while he is doing really well overall, he could tell that this was a major separation. When Brandon and I started saying our "see you laters", Ralph went crazy. So instead of sweetly telling Brandon that I loved him and couldn't wait to see him at his graduation, I was yelling at Ralph to be quiet and swatting him away from our feet. Just when things couldn't get any worse, a bee started swarming us. I am terrified of bees, so that pretty much ruined it.

When Brandon left and I locked the door behind him, it hit me that he wasn't going to be home in a few hours. So I ran out to the car, gave him one more big hug, and waved a little American flag as he drove away. I did it to be silly and corny, but as his car disappeared from sight, I noticed that I was clutching the flag a little tighter to my heart. It was meaningful to me. I know that Brandon is going to "do his duty." It's not a deployment and it's not for long, but he is still going with a great purpose-- to train so that he can serve our country in the Air Force.

I am so proud of him, and proud to be his wife.

Sunshine and Spring Storms

2011-05-26T04:46:00.000-07:00

Have you noticed that nearly every time Brandon and I have to travel to or from an assignment, the weather just goes insane? Like. . . the blizzard that stranded us in Wyoming for days, the epic ice storm that almost kept us from getting to Pennsylvania, the blizzard that turned a 12 hour trip to Wisconsin into 28 hours, etc.

Yesterday was the day we had to move out of our apartment building in Kansas City. No way a blizzard could hit this time! Nope, we had tornadoes instead.

While we were in Kansas City, loading our car, a tornado hit. Luckily, I was blissfully unaware. I mean, yes, the sirens were going off, and yes, Brandon took a picture of a freaky funnel cloud. But the sirens had gone off so many times in the last few days that I didn't take it seriously (I know, I know, you should always take it seriously). Little did I know that there were two tornadoes on the ground-- one in the community next to ours.

We got about an hour down the road, noticed some freaky clouds, turned on the radio, and discovered there was another tornado in the next town over. Huh.

At one point, I was pretty sure we needed to just spend the night on the road, because the area of Arkansas that we were driving into was listed as "Tor: Con 9" which, from what I'm told, means there was a 90% chance of an F2 or larger hitting within a 50 mile radius. Everyone was freaking out. Churches cancelled services, schools dismissed early. Reed Timmer from Stormchasers was in the area, as was the TIV and those guys. Um, can you say freaky?

But my husband is a genius. . . and a storm nut. If he wasn't an ER nurse, he would be a storm chaser. Seriously. So, he looked at all of the models and said he thought we should just go for it. He was pretty sure the storms were going to form in our area, but that they wouldn't be anything like the apocalypse we were all expecting and would move out of the area a few hours earlier than expected. He explained why-- something to do with the ridge, the delta, the low pressure, the jet stream, yada yada yada. I wasn't paying much attention. I was too freaked out by what we were hearing from everyone else. . . and of course by the images of what had just happened in Joplin, Missouri.

I was sure he was wrong. I'm pretty sure I told him we were stupid to be driving into such a dangerous situation.

But he was right. We drove through sunshine all day. The storms were long gone before we made it home, and while there were some tornadoes in Arkansas (and, sadly, some loss of life), it was nowhere near as bad as everyone was expecting. I'm so, so thankful for that. Not just for us, but for the entire state. Arkansas has really been through the ringer this year, with tornadoes and widespread flooding that have devastated many communities. It's been a rough spring for the south.

So we made it home safely. It's hard to believe that we won't be packing up again in a week for another travel assignment. Next time, we'll be packing up for good. . . leaving this home for our new one. Very surreal. We're so used to temporary assignments that I don't think it will sink in for awhile.

Orders and moving on

2011-05-24T14:20:00.000-07:00

We got Brandon's orders today!

We, being newbies, thought the orders would tell us when to show up at Brandon's assignment. We knew that he might have to report the day after graduation, or that we might have some leave time. So we made hypothetical plans based on either possibility, and figured the orders would dictate which set of plans we went with. Instead, we have options. I'm kind of stunned-- happily so.

But the problem with options is that we have to make a decision and live with the consequences. Use some of his leave now and regret it later when we want some time off and don't have it to take? Report immediately and regret it later because things are so busy with his job that he isn't granted leave when we want it?

Of course, the real reason I'm obsessing over this decision is because it's our last day in Kansas City and obsessing over leave distracts me from all the packing/cleaning I need to do. I think I'm fighting "the end" a little bit. I'm one big walking contradiction-- as ready as I am to say goodbye to travel nursing and move on to bigger and better things, there is a part of me that is really resisting the change. I'm so thankful for travel nursing, and how it allowed us to see the country and grow as a couple. I read some of my old blog posts from some of our "rougher" seasons of traveling, and it made me laugh. . . because when I look back on those times, I don't remember those parts of it. I don't think back on crappy apartments, broken appliances, plywood mattresses, miserable road trips, crazy neighbors, broken contracts and bad coworkers.

No, I remember other moments. . .

I remember the excitement of the first time we saw the signs for the Appalachian trail, the joy of walking hand in hand and smelling the sea air in California, and the delightful shivers of fear when we saw our first bear in Montana. I remember dragging Brandon horseback riding and the way he smelled like sweet grass after. I remember going on our first train ride and tagging behind Brandon for hours as he took pictures of every. single. train. in the museum.

I remember the heaviness we felt in the Holocaust museum and the pure delight of the Smithsonian. I remember the feel of the cobblestone sidewalks in Alexandria, and the way Brandon had to steady me as I tried to navigate them in stiletto heels on our 2nd anniversary.

I remember the strong sulfur smell in Yellowstone, and how excited Brandon was to see Old Faithful for the first time. I remember being holed up for days in a Wyoming hotel room during our first blizzard.

I remember snuggling on the couch with Brandon and watching all six seasons of Lost in six months, attempting to make tamales without a recipe or any idea of what was even in them, chasing the dogs around their favorite dog park, snapping pictures of every state we visited, driving three hours just to spend an hour at the beach and eat real Maryland crabcakes, sharing a kiss by the Grand Canyon, making a Christmas tree out of leftover scrapbook paper, and roasting marshmallows by our own private campfire in the mountains.

It hasn't always been easy, but the last three years have been amazing. In many ways, it's been like an extended honeymoon-- you know, except for that whole work thing. We're ready for something more permanent. . . and hopefully, to add a few children to the mix.

It's time to move on, but part of me will always miss this.

Counting it down

2011-05-23T19:52:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow is Brandon's last shift as a travel nurse. There's always a chance we'll pick it back up again someday, but I don't see much room for it in our future. We have other plans.

Eight days ago was the three year anniversary of this blog, and our official travel nursing announcement. Five days from now marks three years since we hit the road for the first time, embarking on this crazy adventure with no idea what we were getting ourselves into. It's only fitting that we'll be celebrating that anniversary by jumping into yet another crazy adventure!

I have to admit, I'm nervous. I think it would have helped to have a little more notice and time to plan, but hey, at least travel nursing has prepared us for that part of it. We've had three years of plans changing quickly, packing in a hurry, heading new places on short notice, turning strange cities into home, and continually reinventing ourselves.

It's going to be quite a ride. . .

Another Crazy Rule

2011-05-21T08:42:00.000-07:00

"Trainees may not wear shower shoes while ironing."

How we got here, part 4

2011-05-20T09:04:00.000-07:00

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3

Thanks to that dare, I sat and listened to all of Brandon's reasons for wanting to join the military. He said things like:

"I want more from my career than I'm getting now."
"I want the opportunity to do more humanitarian aid work."
"I want leadership training."
"We could live all over the world. You've always wanted to go to England, Italy, and Alaska-- well, we could get assigned to one of those bases!"
"I want to serve the men and women who are fighting for our country."
"I want my career to have a greater sense of purpose."

Those are all good reasons, and he was sincere in all of them. But all I heard was, "I want to live out a childhood fantasy and play GI Joe. I want to shoot big guns and fly in big airplanes. I want to blow stuff up and look cool in my combat boots and dog tags."

He didn't actually say any of that. . . but come on. You know that had to have been part of it.

I listened to all of his reasons, but I came away with the conclusion that this was just something he needed to get out of his system. He could do humanitarian aid work and service without joining the military, and his career already was purposeful. I mean, the guy saves lives for a living!

So I decided to just be mildly supportive. Enough that he could feel free pursue it and get it out of his system, but not enough to encourage it. I said, "Hey, if this is what has been preoccupying you for so long, then you need to find out more. Call a recruiter, talk to some people. Maybe this is what you are looking for." I also made him a list of my own questions that I wanted him to ask (all carefully crafted to cast the idea in the worst light possible, of course).

He started making calls. He talked to people from all branches, but kept coming back to the Air Force. Maybe it's because they had the best website. Maybe it's because their commercials were so inspiring that they even made me want to sign up. Or maybe that's just where he was supposed to be. Either way, after a few more weeks and several conversations, he decided to submit his application to the Air Force. . . right in time for our 3rd wedding anniversary.

At that point, I had a reality check. He was really moving forward with this. I was still very reluctant about the whole thing. Can you blame me? What wife really wants for her husband to work more hours and go on deployments halfway across the world? What wife would really be happy about her husband changing their life plans out of the blue. . . especially when said wife specifically told him she would never marry someone in the military?

Our anniversary

I honestly don't remember much of our anniversary dinner. I do remember that I did a lot of staring out the window that overlooked the forest. We didn't say much, because tears would spring to my eyes every time we tried to talk. I'm sure our waiter thought that we were breaking up or that one of us was dying or something. The night ended with me drinking a shot of vodka and walking out of the restaurant, leaving Brandon to finish dinner alone. It's comical to look back on it now, but there was nothing funny about it at the time.

I was miserable. But. . . I could see that Brandon really wanted this. I didn't understand it, I didn't like it, but I could see how much it meant to him. And I loved him. Totally, completely. I loved every part of him, even the part that wanted to do this crazy Air Force thing. We're a team. We support each other. If this was his dream, then of course I would support him.

Weird things started happening, like these mysterious rainbows. Every time we started talking about the Air Force, a double rainbow would appear in the sky. It didn't matter what time of day it was, where we were, or what the weather was like.

Things also seemed to just fall into place. Brandon's recruiter was in St. Louis, which meant we needed to go there for paperwork. We, of course, were in Montana. But where do you think our next travel assignment was? You guessed it. St. Louis. We hadn't even tried to make that happen.

The timing also seemed to work out perfectly. Brandon's recruiter expected him to go to training in January of 2010. We were a little worried about that, because Brandon's travel assignment ended the beginning of December. We didn't want to go six weeks without work (or a paycheck!), but we knew it would be next to impossible for Brandon to find a 4 week contract. As we were stressing about this, St. Louis called and asked if he would please consider signing up for a longer than normal contract. . . that just so happened to end one week prior to his expected COT date.

The pieces were definitely coming together. Even I had to admit that. My own reservations were slowly melting away as well. Brandon's recruiter spent some time answering my (real) questions, and my Marine wife friend Jen helped me talk through all of my worries. I wasn't yet enthusiastic, but I had accepted it and was beginning to see the good side of it all.

Brandon submitted all of his paperwork, we told our friends and family, and began preparing for the transition. I started reading books like Married to the Military and Going Overboard: The Misadventures of a Military Wife. I was using jargon like "Conus" and "BAH" in every day life. We were on our way to becoming a real military family.

So imagine our surprise when we got an unexpected email that changed everything. . .

Crazy Military Rules

2011-05-19T08:25:00.000-07:00

Before Brandon goes to training, he has to read through hundred of pages of instructions. It's all posted on the internet, which means that curious civilians like myself can read it too. I came away with two things: an enormous amount of respect for my husband, and a really strong desire to know the stories behind some of the rules.

There is one manual in particular that has caught my attention. It's 115 pages of rules. Most of them are pretty boring (at least to me, since I don't need to know them). They are the basics of respect and protocol-- when to salute, how to properly greet someone, etc. There are some cool things, like how women are to be greeted first (so if greeting a large mixed group, you would say "Good morning, Ladies. Good morning, Gentleman").

But what I've found REALLY interesting are rules like these:

Don't greet an officer while (s)he's using the bathroom. Can't you just picture a young trainee attempting to salute a Colonel while he is standing in front of the urinal?
Don't sleep naked in government issued sheets.
Don't print pornography from a government computer.
In case of lightning, take the shortest route possible when walking to the dining facility.
Don't say you are going to church and then skip the service to socialize outside the building.
Don't talk on your cell phone while greeting an officer.
Don't bring alcohol to training.
Don't bring your pets to training.
Don't walk around the training facility in a swimsuit.

You KNOW that every one of these has a story. I personally would love to know the ones behind the sleeping naked rule and the pet rule. I mean, who in their right mind would try to bring their pet?! Who would be stupid enough to sleep naked when you could be woken by a drill sergeant at any time?!

So have you heard any funny stories about crazy things people have tried to get away with at military training?

Oath of Office

2011-05-18T14:04:00.000-07:00

“I, Brandon ________, having been appointed in the United States Air Force, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the office upon which I am about to enter. So help me God.”

First MRE

2011-05-16T08:27:00.000-07:00

Back in September, I blogged about how Brandon ordered MREs for us to try for a future trip to Africa. I promised we would try them, then blog about it for you guys.

Yes, it has taken me nine months to get up the courage to try them.

But they are good for 14 years, so really, that's not bad at all. ;)

Honestly, they probably would have sat on my shelf for another 13 years and three months had Brandon not gotten the call to go to training. See, he'll have to eat MREs at COT. They do a mock deployment exercise where they live in tents and set up a field hospital. During this period, and on other field exercise days, MREs are the only option for "food."

So, we decided we better break into one of the MREs to make sure he'll be able to stomach it. We couldn't bring ourselves to try the egg one yet, so we opened the chili.

We ordered ours as civilians. Supposedly, it is the exact same food as the military ones, just packaged a little differently for security reasons (although I have heard that the "real" MREs also come with laxative gum).

It came with:

One package of vegetarian chili.
One package of "bread."
Peanut butter.
Strawberry jam.
One package of fig bars.
Powdered strawberry lemonade.
Two hard candies.
Salt, pepper, a moist towelette, and packaged silverware.

I opened the "bread" and the fig bars while Brandon heated the chili. Yes, we ate off of a plate. I realize that's not the typical way of eating an MRE, but I try to keep things civilized when possible.

You can see just how excited Brandon is about this lunch. Honestly, it wasn't as bad as we expected. The chili was just like canned chili-- not something we normally eat, but a pleasant surprise. It was something that we would definitely take backpacking.

The bread was interesting. It didn't have the texture of bread at all. It was like a really thick poptart without any fruit filling or icing. Dry, gummy, and mildly sweet.

The peanut butter was regular creamy peanut butter.

The jam was intensely sweet-- it would have been fine with half the sugar, but was almost inedible as it was.

The fig bars were close to the kind of fig bars you would buy in a store, just a lot more dry.

In fact, "dry" is the word I would use to describe the entire meal. I only took a few bites, and it left me craving water. They are also VERY high calorie-- over 1,000 calories per meal. We split this one and still threw away half of it. The chili pack was only 230 calories. . . so most of the calories were coming from sugar, fat, and highly processed grains-- not exactly a healthy way of getting your daily calories.

Here's my grade:

A+ for convenience.
C for nutrition (for daily living, I would rate them an F for nutrition. But since their intended purpose is to supply valuable calories to soldiers who are expending a lot of energy in the field, I give them some credit for achieving that goal).
C+ for taste (way better than we expected, but not something we would eat for fun).

I'll let you know when we try the breakfast meal. The eggs terrify me, but I'm definitely curious to try the french toast. . .

Crazy ER Stories: Rationalization

2011-05-15T11:11:00.000-07:00

I'll admit, I'm fascinated by the ER. I think many people are-- that's why there are so many dramas and "reality" shows about what happens there. Truth is sometimes crazier than fiction. . . and almost always more hilarious.

One of the things that cracks me up is the way patients can be incredibly judgmental about other people's vices, yet completely justify their own. Here are a few of my favorite examples:

Brandon:   Do you drink alcohol?
Patient:   Oh, goodness, no! I grew up with an alcoholic father. I know what kind of damage that does. I have never let even a drop of alcohol touch my lips. I use meth instead. It's really much less damaging to my family.

Brandon:   So you're shooting coke?
Patient:   Man, who do you think I am? I'm not one of those crack whore junkies. I would never shoot up. I'm high class-- I only snort fine powdered cocaine.

Brandon:   Do you drink alcohol?
Elderly female patient:   Of course not! (highly offended)
Brandon:   I don't mean any offense by it, I just have to ask. Do you smoke?
Elderly female patient:   Absolutely not! I'm not that kind of person.
Brandon:   I'm sorry, Ma'am, we're just required to ask. Do you do any drugs?
Elderly female patient:   Yes, but only cocaine.

Brandon:   Do you drink alcohol?
Patient:   I used to, but I've cut way back.
Brandon:   Okay, about how much do you drink?
Patient:   I'm down to a pint a day.
Brandon:   Of beer?
Patient:   Vodka. But only the good Russian kind, so it doesn't really count.

Crazy ER Stores: Milk and Molasses

2011-05-13T14:52:00.000-07:00

WARNING: PLEASE DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME.

One of the disgusting things about Brandon's job is that he has to deal with the countless patients who come to the ER for constipation.

Can I just say something? (Oh yeah, it's my blog, of course I can.)

EAT SOME FIBER, PEOPLE!

Now I totally understand that there are medications and medical conditions that cause constipation, and that sometimes it really is out of a person's control. But many times, it's just diet related. In this case, the prescription should be simple: eat more fiber, drink more water, and get more exercise. Actually, that prescription would solve quite a few of America's health problems. But I digress.

Anyway, a lot of people don't want to eat fiber, drink water, or get more exercise. . . so instead, they wait until the constipation is unbearable and then go to the ER for an enema. Some people make it a regular weekly date. I don't really get it. I personally would rather change my lifestyle than have a stranger stick a tube up my rectum every month, then have to vacate my bowels in front of said stranger, but to each his own.

Most hospitals use a "soap suds" enema. But the hospital where Brandon is currently working strives to use more natural approaches whenever possible. So when Brandon had his first constipation patient, the doctor prescribed a milk and molasses enema.

Brandon was like, "What?" Surprisingly, despite working in hospitals all over the country, he had never even heard of such a thing.

The recipe was simple. 2/3 cup warm milk and 1/3 cup warm sorghum molasses.

So of course, my husband had to taste it.

(Just kidding! He didn't ACTUALLY taste it. But when he told me the story, he pretended like he did. . . and didn't tell me the truth until AFTER I vomited.)

So how did it work? Well, I won't gross you out with the details, but he said it is the most effective enema he's ever seen.

Seriously: Don't try it at home! You could perforate your colon, you could irritate your intestines, you could have a bad reaction, etc.

How we got here, part 3

2011-05-13T05:51:00.000-07:00

Glad we are finished with part 2, because that was just depressing!

I left off by mentioning that when I found out that Brandon was researching the Air Force, I normally would have flipped out, but there was something else in play that even he didn't know about. I happened to have a secret of my own (insert suspenseful music here).

A couple of months beforehand, I did something horrible.

I forgot Valentine's Day.

I know, I know, I win the Bad Wife Award. To make matters worse, Brandon had remembered me mentioning that I liked something months beforehand, and had bought it and been hiding it for weeks. He had also surprised me with pink champagne and donuts for breakfast, and planned a special dinner out at a lakeside cafe. He had put all this time and energy into planning a romantic day, and I hadn't even bought him a card.

Fail.

So, I tried to cover for myself. We were together all day, and I didn't have a chance to go shopping by myself. But on a grocery run, I managed to send Brandon on a wild goose chase while I ran down the Valentine's aisle. I saw this book called "The Love Dare", grabbed it and some chocolates, and hit the checkout line.

I had never heard of "The Love Dare" and, honestly, I was expecting it to be a totally different kind of book. . . more like a "truth or dare" game for couples. It's not that at all. It's a very serious 40 day challenge of marriage devotionals and "dares" that one person does secretly on the other person. . . which meant that I got caught, because I gave it to him before I even read the back cover and it was obvious I had no idea what it was. (Just so you know, I did eventually give him a real gift, and I went out of my way to put tons of time and energy into the next Valentine's Day. I will never forget it again.).

So, months later, I had decided to do the dares on Brandon. I still felt really bad about my lousy gift, especially when he had put so much thought into mine. I thought it would be nice to actually do all of the dares in the book for him, as kind of a late "secret" gift.

I had already completed the first eleven dares. When it dared me to buy something unexpected for Brandon, I bought him a magazine featuring the guys from Mythbusters. When it asked me to contact him unexpectedly during the day, I called the hospital (which, by the way, was a bad idea since I normally just text his cell phone. He thought somebody had died when the hospital paged him and said his wife needed to speak to him).

But then I got to day 12: "Love lets the other one win." The dare was to willingly give into an area of disagreement and tell Brandon that I would put his preferences first.

When I read that, I was stumped. Brandon and I don't disagree on much. We even like the same tv shows. Sometimes we disagree over whose turn it is to walk the dogs, but I knew that wasn't quite the same thing. To really fulfill the dare, I wanted to give in to something that really mattered to Brandon. . . and I wanted it to be a real sacrifice. Not just "Yeah, you can have the remote control" because it didn't matter to me, but something that would cost me.

So, OF COURSE, that was the day I found out about the Air Force. Why, oh why, couldn't I have discovered his plans on some other day?? When I saw the computer screen and realized what was going on, that stupid dare was the first thing that popped into my head. The second was a long string of expletives that I can't post here. ;)

So that's why I calmly asked Brandon to give me the details. My face didn't match my words (he described my expression as "quiet despair"), but at least I tried, right?

It's kind of crazy to think about how the smallest decisions can impact your life. If I hadn't forgotten Valentine's Day, I never would have grabbed The Love Dare off the shelf. . . and I would have reacted completely differently.

And honestly, if we hadn't left California early (and if our permanent jobs hadn't taken so long to call us with their offers) we wouldn't have ended up in Montana. . . and if Brandon hadn't ended up at that hospital, working with an absolutely amazing retired Navy physician and an Army Reserve nurse, he probably wouldn't have started thinking about the military again.

But I did, and we did, and he did, and somehow we ended up in that place, on that day, with that dare. . .

Of course, that's just the beginning of the story. . .

How we got here, part 2

2011-05-10T22:24:00.000-07:00

To read part 1, click here.

I was stunned. I felt confused. Betrayed. Hurt. Resentful.

Brandon expected me to freak out, maybe even (gasp!) yell. But I didn't. According to him, I opened my mouth to say something, paused, then shut it. I took a loooooooooong breath, sat down, and asked him to give me the details.

There was a reason for my strangely calm reaction, but first things first.

Rewind a little more with me. In January 2005, Brandon and I were in that awkwardly wonderful "talking" phase-- you know, where you are interested in each other, but aren't in an actual relationship. We lived 700 miles apart, and were on different life tracks. We were crazy about each other (Brandon calls it a fatal attraction-- but he's never seen the movie, so he has no idea how psycho that makes him sound, hahaha), but we had been friends for years and didn't want to mess that up for something that was doomed to fail.

Brandon had just returned to school after Christmas break, and we were chatting on the phone. The conversation went something like this:

Brandon:   So we had a career fair today.

Courtney:   Yeah?

Brandon:   Each branch of the military had a booth set up and I talked to a couple of the recruiters. Did you know I can be a nurse in the military? They have awesome training and career opportunities, and they would even help repay some of my student loans.

awkward pause, as I try to figure out how to respond.

Courtney:   Is that what you want to do?

Brandon:   I've never really thought about it before. It was just interesting to hear what they had to say.

another pause.

Courtney:   If that's what you want to do, that's awesome. I will support you completely as your friend. I'll always be here for you, and I'll send care packages and letters and be completely happy for you. I mean it, you should go for it if that's what you want to do with your life. But. . . if you're going to seriously consider it, I kind of need to know up front. I'm never going to be a military wife. I'm not telling you that to try to talk you out of it, because that's the kind of decision you need to make for yourself and I wouldn't want you to ever regret not doing it. But relationship wise, it's a dealbreaker for me, so I want to know before we get more involved.

and yes, another awkward pause.

Brandon:   Oh, I'm not really interested. But while we're on the topic of careers, what do you think about travel nursing?

Courtney:   Travel nursing? Hmmm. . . now that's an interesting thought. . .

After that conversation, Brandon never brought up the military thing again. We began an "official" relationship, I moved 700 miles and transferred schools, we got married, and crazily enough did that whole travel nursing thing.

Just in case anyone gets the wrong idea, let me explain why the military was such a dealbreaker for me. I am NOT anti-military. But at that point in my life, I was surrounded by Army reserve wives, girlfriends, and fiances. . . and it was during a deployment. I saw their sacrifices up close. I watched my friend R play the roles of both mom and dad while her husband was deployed for over a year. I watched her kids cry for their daddy to come home. I watched an engagement break up. I watched a friend cry through church when nobody had heard from her boyfriend after the news reported unnamed fatalities in his group. I watched my best friend struggle with fear and worry while her boyfriend (and eventual husband) was deployed, performing a high risk job in Afghanistan. I watched them have relationships with their phones and computers instead of the men they were in love with.

I didn't want that kind of life.

So when I "caught" Brandon researching military careers over four years later, I did feel kind of betrayed. I know him. I knew that anything that had been preoccupying him for this long was more than a passing fancy. This was for real, and it was totally unexpected.

And, if I'm being totally honest, I was resentful because I felt like it was my turn to pursue my career. I don't know why on earth I would have felt that way. . . oh wait, it was because a few weeks earlier, Brandon had told me it was my turn. . . that he was thankful that I had quit my job and put my grad school plans on hold so that he could travel nurse, and that now it was my turn to go back to school and follow my own dreams. He would get a job wherever I wanted to go. Yet here he was, researching a new career that would again dictate my own plans.

It's hard for me to put all of that out there, because I'm fully aware of how selfish it makes me sound. I wish I could say that I was instantly happy and honored to serve our country as a military wife. But. . . I wasn't.

So with all of those negative emotions, why did I not freak out? Well, there was something else in play. . . something that even Brandon didn't know about.

Kansas City BBQ

2011-05-09T10:51:00.000-07:00

We're still a travel nursing family for a few days, so just in case any of you travel nurses out there think I've forgotten about you, I'll share a little story (review?) from our time in Kansas City.

After talking about New Orleans and all of the yummy food there, I was craving some Cajun food. It's a favorite of ours, but a very, very rare treat. The last time we had any was for our anniversary last year, when we went to Texas for adoption training. We actually ate alligator there, and it was fantastic.

So we got in the car and searched for "Cajun food" on the GPS. It brought up Popeyes Chicken. Hmm. Not exactly what I was thinking, but close enough.

The one closest to us had bad reviews, but I saw one a little farther down on the list with great ratings, so I selected that one, and off we went! I should have realized something was wrong when the GPS kept freaking out and changing our route. It sent us down three different interstates, and finally took us way, way out of town into the Kansas prairie. We almost hit a deer.

The GPS ended at an address, telling us that was the restaurant. It wasn't. It was a pretty little country neighborhood on a small lake.

So we headed back into the city, stomachs growling, ready to settle for a gas station hot dog if necessary. Instead, we saw Zarda BBQ, which happens to be on the top ten list of Kansas City BBQ joints-- and Kansas City takes BBQ very, very seriously.

We are used to Memphis style bbq, and KC bbq is different. We definitely like Memphis style sauce better-- it's thinner, with more vinegar and spice. The KC sauce was okay, but had we gotten take out, I would have mixed it with apple cider vinegar and cayenne pepper. It was just a little too thick, sweet, and ketchupy for our taste. But the meat was fantastic. It was juicy, tender, and had an amazing smoky flavor (which we love!). And the bar-b-q beans? Heaven on earth. By far, the best we've ever had.

So if you're traveling through KC, I would definitely give Zarda's a try.

I was not asked to do this review or compensated in any way for it. But if Zarda's would like to send me some bar-b-q beans, I would be forever grateful. Hahaha.

Wish I was that cool

2011-05-08T12:40:00.000-07:00

Don't make fun of me-- I'm a natural blonde, remember?

I logged into my adventuresintravelnursing email account today, and found that one of my new bloggy friends had replied to some comments I left on her blog. . . only instead of commenting on her blog post, she somehow replied to my comment and it went straight to my email.

This was very cool.

So I, of course, wanted to figure out how to do this. Only, I am not so great at computer/web/tech stuff. . . and couldn't figure it out on my own.

Anyone want to fill me in on how to use this feature?

How we got here, part 1

2011-05-08T11:19:00.000-07:00

Rewind with me, about two years. . .

Brandon and I were in Montana. We had spent a month trying to settle down in our home town in Arkansas. We were both offered jobs (Brandon was actually offered 2-- one as an ER nurse, one as an OR nurse, and I was offered a really cool job as a fitness instructor). Unfortunately, the phone calls telling us we got these jobs were delayed. . . they came pretty much the exact moment our car pulled to a stop at a motel in Montana, after fighting through blizzards for 5 days just to get there. The roads behind us were officially closed leaving us (both literally and symbolically) no way to go back home.

It was a blessing.

We had a lot of long talks while we were holed up in that hotel room, living off of canned soup and trail mix. We realized we didn't want to spend our lives in our hometown. Our decision to go home had been a kneejerk reaction to a hellish travel nursing assignment. We thanked God that the doors had seemingly closed.

As the snow melted and revealed the gorgeous little world we found ourselves in, we became more and more thankful. . .

If we would have settled down when we wanted to, we would have missed those moments, and countless others. The six months we spent in Montana, while sometimes difficult (you may remember how our little house had a water hose instead of real water lines, how the hose froze every night when the sun went down, and how we had to save up water during the day to be able to flush the toilet at night), was the most amazing adventure we've ever had.

During those months, we began talking about our future plans. They no longer involved settling down at home. They definitely involved mountains and hiking trails. We researched hospitals, grad schools for me, the housing markets, the grocery stores. . . We were considering a few places, but were focused, of course, on Montana. We spent a couple of weeks driving through small towns and "big" cities. We combed through classified ads and looked at a few houses. We picked a town and Brandon began the application process for their life flight program.

But. . . Brandon started acting strangely. He was preoccupied. Serious. Quiet. He started spending a lot of time on the computer, but would close the laptop any time I walked into the room. His interest in our house shopping dissipated.

This was radically different than the Brandon I knew. We tell each other everything and do pretty much everything together. The only other time he had ever been secretive in our relationship was when he was getting ready to propose.

I knew something was going on. My mind was going all sorts of places-- none of them good.

I tried to ask him what was going on, but he just gave me all sorts of weird excuses. I gave him some space for awhile, but after a couple of weeks, I just had to know. I was prepared for the worst. Or so I thought.

One day I surprised him by walking into the room suddenly, before he was able to close the laptop.

I caught a glimpse of the screen.

I was stunned.

He was. . . are you ready for this?

Researching the United States Air Force.

To be continued. . .

Home is where the Air Force sends you

2011-05-07T10:36:00.000-07:00

I have a confession. . .

Brandon's Air Force recruiter called him on Thursday night and told him that May was a possibility. We immediately contacted Brandon's travel nursing recruiter and told him what was going on. The next morning, Brandon got an email from the AF recruiter that apparently meant May was a definite. . . we just didn't realize that's what it meant. I know, I know. It will take us awhile to pick up on all the military speak. Late that afternoon, Brandon called to touch base, and found out that yes May was a go.

On that second phone call, I was standing next to Brandon and could hear what his recruiter was saying. Keep in mind that we still didn't even realize that May was official. When his recruiter said, "Well, I have some news for you," we were expecting to hear about COT. Not, "We're sending you to the deeeeeep south" (okay, those weren't his actual words, but that's the way my brain heard them. In a scary ax-murderer kind of voice).

. . .

My confession?

I sat down in the floor and cried.

Yes, that was ridiculous, and I did pull myself together and put on my big girl panties. But I was really disappointed. It's no secret how I feel about the south. I was raised there, but it's not me anymore. I'm not sure that it ever really was. Even as a kid, I felt more at home in Wyoming than I ever did in Arkansas. Mountains, snow, and wide open spaces are in my soul.

Deep south on the gulf? Not.so.much.

When Brandon hung up the phone, I said, "I would rather live in a hut in Africa." You think I'm joking, but I'm not.

But. . . I'm coming around.

I won't have mountains, but I'll have the ocean, which is my second favorite. I love the ocean. No, the gulf isn't California, but it's still a beach with dolphins, salty air, and white sand.

I've already connected with some other wives on base, and we found out today that an acquaintance of ours will be PCSing there in September.

We'll get the chance to visit places I've always wanted to see, like New Orleans (okay, all I really care about is getting some jambalaya, gumbo, and crabcakes, but still).

The base seems really great and supportive.

With the exception of Disney World, I have never been to the deep parts of the southeast. So maybe I've judged it unfairly.

The south is going to be my home for a few years, so I'm just going to embrace my old southern drawl and start making sweet tea again. I'll keep "all ya'll" posted on how it goes. ;)

Happy Military Spouse Appreciation Day!

2011-05-06T11:03:00.000-07:00

Before today, I had never even heard of this holiday.

But my sweet friend Randi, who is an Army wife, posted a "Happy Military Spouse Appreciation Day!" on my facebook today. I was so touched that she would think of me, since the extent of my "Air Force Wife" resume is some paperwork, a couple of meetings, waiting/limbo, holding Brandon's feet during his sit ups, and buying American flag rain boots.

I did a little research and discovered that this IS a real holiday. President Reagan began the tradition in 1984. Yesterday, President Obama issued a proclamation, declaring today Military Spouse Appreciation Day and asking Americans to thank and support military spouses.

"Our service members and their families seldom ask for support or recognition. They carry out their duties to family and country with the quiet courage and strength that has always exemplified the American spirit. On Military Spouse Appreciation Day, we have an opportunity to not only honor the husbands and wives of our service members, but also thank them by actively expressing our gratitude in both word and deed." President Barack Obama.

It makes me sad that I have never even heard of this holiday! Some of my best friends are military wives, and I've seen their sacrifices first hand. Spouses and children really do serve too. Spouses often have to put their careers on the back burner to support their husband/wife in uniform. They miss many of the "normal" things in a relationship-- celebrating holidays together, living together year round, having control over their lives, etc. They stay at home and keep things running smoothly when their spouses are deployed. They volunteer on base, send care packages to the troops, and organize fundraisers for charitable causes. The list goes on and on.

So to all of the military spouses out there, thank you for all that you do. You are amazing. =)

First purchase as an AF wife, and bloggy decisions

2011-05-05T10:54:00.000-07:00

We went shopping yesterday to try to tackle some of the items Brandon has to take to COT (everything from a sewing kit to a black eyeglass strap to a shoe shine kit) and I couldn't pass up these American flag rainboots. I've never owned a pair of rainboots, although I've wanted them since my days in college when I would try to navigate our often flooded campus in flip flops (which usually floated away, leaving me barefoot until I could chase them down). I saw this pair on CLEARANCE at Gordmans (oh, Gordmans, how I love thee). It was an easy purchase to justify since we'll be heading to the gulf at the beginning of hurricane season. I was so happy to wake up to RAIN this morning so that I can try them out when I take the dogs on their many potty runs!

Oh, and if you're thinking I look pale and tired, it's because I am. This week has been beyond stressful. We are excited and happy to be starting this new chapter of our lives, but there has been an ugly side to it as well that has really put a lot of strain on both of us. I'm going to blog more about that in the future, but I want to put some distance between me and this week first.

In other news, I've been trying to decide whether to continue this blog or not. I get emails regularly from travel nurses and potential travel nurses who use it as a resource, so I won't take it down. I am just not sure whether I will continue updating it. On one hand, I know that friends and family use it to keep up with us and feel connected to us. On the other hand, we're a lot more concerned with privacy and anonymity as a military family. . for many reasons.

Thoughts?

Answering YOUR questions

2011-05-01T23:57:00.000-07:00

Some people were shocked by our news, some knew it was coming but didn't expect it so soon. Either way, everyone has a lot of questions. Some are valid, some are moronic (and therefore humorous-- sort of). I'll do my best to tackle the "frequently asked questions."

Was Brandon in the Reserves and just called to Active Duty? No, he has never been in the Reserves. He began the looooong application process for AD in the summer of 2009.

What will his job be? The same as it is now. He joined the Air Force Nurse Corps. He will be working in an ER-- it will just be an Air Force ER on base instead of a private hospital. He will also have additional responsibilities as an AF officer, but (for now) his primary job will be ER nursing just like always.

Why can't you just tell the Air Force that this date was too soon? I'm tempted to put this question into the moronic category, but I do understand that not everyone is familiar with how the process (or the military in general) works. We don't get to tell the military what we will or will not do, or when we will or will not do it. Brandon did get to request a training date when his file was sent to the boards, and he requested January 2011 (which would have been convenient, as his travel nursing contract was up on December 28). But the spot wasn't available then, so the request wasn't granted. He got called now, and when the military gives you orders, you go. Same with his base assignment. We didn't get our number one choice. I believe we received what we listed as #5. There wasn't any negotiating-- that's where he is being sent. It would have been great to get our first choice, but honestly I am just really thankful we got something from our top five. They could have sent us anywhere. Once we got over the initial disappointment of living in the deeeeeeep south, we realized how great it was that we will be at *one* of our top picks, close to family, close to the beach, and close to other military friends.

Will Brandon go through basic? No. He will attend COT-- Commissioned Officer Training. It's different than basic. There is an emphasis on classroom time and leadership training, but they still do PT (the exercise part) and obstacle courses and all that.

Do you get to go with him to training? Nope! It's not a long term training, so spouses don't get to move there too. Which is fine, because I have plenty of stuff to do to get ready for our real move.

Will Brandon have to deploy? Just about everyone in the military deploys at some point. What that will look like for us, we won't know until we get there.

Will you live on a base? We hope so. Brandon will be working on a base, and we will be requesting base housing. Everyone has different opinions about this-- some families love being on base, some will only life off base. We feel like being on base is the right decision for us.

Well, I think that's it! Did I miss anything? Any burning questions you are dying to know?

If only. . .

2011-04-30T10:29:00.000-07:00

If the Air Force had called sooner, we wouldn't have. . .

. . . bought the bulk package of 48 rolls of toilet paper.

. . . lugged half of my cookware up to the Kansas City apartment.

. . . bought the big carton of oatmeal instead of the normal size.

. . . stocked the apartment with $300 of bulk groceries to "save money over the long run."

(Actually, I would have just avoided the bulk store altogether.)

. . . unpacked my suitcases.

. . . left our Arkansas house without cleaning the oven and microwave (because now my Mom is going to have to do it for me, which just isn't right).

. . . said, "Oh, I can put off getting a haircut for another month. Sure, it's already been 8 and my hair is getting so long I look like a sheep dog, but things are just so busy right now and they will surely slow down in May." Ha. By the time things slow down enough for me to remember to make an appointment, I will probably transform from a sheep dog to a wooly mammoth. Although, Dear Husband, if you are reading this, do NOT under any circumstances start calling me a wooly mammoth. After all, I'm the one who cuts your hair.

. . . bought a vacuum cleaner specifically for travel nursing.

. . . signed a lease on a work apartment that requires professional carpet cleaning when you move out (I now have to have carpets professionally cleaned even though they are brand new, we will only have lived (part time) on them for six weeks (and only in half the apartment since this one is so huge), our dogs are potty trained, we don't smoke, and we don't eat on them. Crazy).

. . . paid an expensive delivery fee to have said apartment furnished.

. . . bought Brandon all new scrubs that he can never. wear. again.

And I'm pretty sure that Brandon wouldn't have skipped PT for the last, oh, two years.

Plans Change

2011-04-29T09:31:00.000-07:00

We love this travel assignment. We love it more than any assignment we've ever had (except for Montana, of course, which will always reign supreme). We love it so much that yesterday, we sat down with our apartment manager to discuss extending our lease, in hopes that Brandon could extend his work contract here. I'm totally not kidding when I say that I put it on my list of places we would move. We are so happy here.

But plans change.

That "dream job" we've been waiting on? Yeah, they called. An hour after we finished the meeting with our apartment manager.

I can officially announce that Brandon will be commissioned into the United States Air Force in the next couple of weeks, and will head to training shortly after!

If you've been following the blog for a really long time, this news maybe anticlimactic. . . since we announced he was joining the Air Force almost two years ago. But it didn't happen. The reasons for that are long, complicated, and boring-- it wasn't about Brandon, it wasn't about the Air Force, it was just a paperwork mixup and bad timing that seriously delayed things for us. When people would ask us, we would laugh and say, "it's permanently delayed," because we were just indefinitely on hold and we honestly weren't sure it would ever happen.

In fact, there came a point when we really didn't think it was going to happen. So we moved on with our lives and began the adoption process. A couple of months into that, we got a phone call. Things had changed. We were still on hold, but with the expectation that things would open up. Like I had said on the blog-- they wanted Brandon, they just didn't have a position for him. We've heard two different reports. One was that they didn't have a single ER nurse spot for 2011, one was that they only had 1. Essentially, Brandon was waitlisted-- number 4 in line for a job. A few weeks later, he was bumped to number three. Then we didn't hear anything. For months.

After our last meeting (I say "our" because I tagged along and took notes, haha), we believed that there was absolutely no way a spot would open for him this year, because they had only had one spot to begin with. Even if that person turned down their spot or didn't show, only one person could move up-- which left Brandon as alternate #2, best case scenario. We were hoping for October (the beginning of fiscal year 2012), but planning for January.

Three days ago, we heard a rumor from some other waitlisted nurses that some spots had opened up for August. I didn't believe it. I mean, really. I did put some lame post on my facebook status about it, but I seriously thought it was just a rumor.

The next day, we were in Sam's Club, and Brandon came running over to me. I could tell that something big had happened. I could just see it on his face. I honestly can't tell you what he said. . . all I heard was "Tsgt. ******* just called. . . May. . . No other option. . . "

May?

MAY?!

MAY?!?!?!?!?!

It's April 27.

MAY?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

After I picked myself up off the floor, I found out that "May" was kind of a misnomer. Training starts May 31, which is practically June, and he won't actually start at the hospital until July. That is still REALLY soon, when it comes to selling our house and moving, but after 3 years of travel nursing I'm pretty sure I can handle it (after 3 years of travel nursing, I'm also really good at living in a state of denial).

I would have preferred six months notice. I would have preferred relocating in October or January. But, I am slowly (very slowly) learning that God's plans are always better than mine. Always.

So we're moving. We're selling our house, we're relocating. . . just like always, except that we'll take our own bed with us this time. We'll be settled for a few years probably.

Unfortunately, we won't be leaving the south. Brandon was assigned to an Air Force Base on the gulf. At least we'll be close to some great beaches! After spending two summers wayyy north, it will be hard to face the heat and humidity of the deep south, but we'll get through it.

After all, we're a military family now. We roll with the punches. It's what we do.

Where are we? Is there a camera somewhere?

2011-04-25T10:50:00.000-07:00

If I had to choose one word to describe our Kansas City experience thus far, it would have to be "peaceful." If I got to choose two words, the second would be "freaky." As in, sometimes peaceful, sometimes freaky, and sometimes "freaky peaceful."

Even the ER is peaceful. Don't get me wrong, Brandon has had plenty to keep him busy, and the primary patient population seems to be psych patients (and any time your job requires putting people in padded rooms on a daily basis it's kind of freaky). But, at least at this point, the ER seems to have way less drama than many others. Patients have been nice. The staff has been friendly and welcoming. They treat him as an equal. Amazing, in this world of travel nursing. At his last hospital, one of the charge nurses treated him as her personal you-know-what, assigning him 6 patients when other nurses would have 2 (or sometimes zero!). I'm not kidding. He would have a full load, her friends wouldn't have any patients at all and would be sitting at the desk watching youtube videos, and she would ask him to clean, stock rooms, and run her personal errands on top of his full patient load. I don't think that would ever happen at this new hospital. Obviously, it's hard to tell for sure at this point. But I'm loving the fact that Brandon is enjoying his job and coworkers again. He doesn't dread going to work anymore, and that is truly an answer to prayer.

Brandon had the last few days off, and we stayed in KC to get to know the area a bit (and to avoid the storms back home). We took the dogs to a nearby park that had pretty walking trails. As we walked, we ran into a small wedding (elopement?) taking place at a gazebo by a pond! The party was made up of about 12 people, and it was very sweet. It was a fun surprise, and very fitting for the laidback, friendly atmosphere of the area.

Even the dogs are more peaceful here. Ralph has separation anxiety which is primarily manifested through barking. This means that we aren't always able to leave him at new apartments. We've worked with behaviorists and veterinarians for years, but can only manage the anxiety. Even Prozac doesn't cure it. We don't want to be a nuisance to our neighbors, so if he's really anxious somewhere, we just take him everywhere we go. Seriously. St. Louis was one of those places. We were never able to leave him at that apartment. But here? He doesn't bark. At all. He's totally at peace. It's actually freaky. We've left him twice now, and he didn't bark either time. We would come back and peek in the windows, and he would just be sleeping on the couch. It's really like he is a different dog.

Other random things that fall into the peaceful, freaky, or freaky peaceful categories:

The grocery store is always fully stocked with fresh produce-- even the day before Easter, when it should have been ransacked. Also, on the day before Easter, everyone at the grocery store was friendly and said please, thank you, and excuse me. Well, I take that back. There was one rather strange lady with her hair in pigtails and an outfit worthy of peopleofwalmart.com who did kind of run us over with her shopping cart, but I'm giving her a pass because she has plenty of other things to work on.

People are nice and will randomly share coupons and sale adds with you, without you even asking. On our first night here, we got takeout from a nearby restaurant. When we picked it up, a customer stopped us and offered us her coupon for a free desert or appetizer. At the grocery store, friendly people pointed out the best sales and where to find things. When we checked out, the lady in front of us was a real "couponer." Her total should have been over $100. . . after coupons, she paid only $3.68. People actually clapped. It was kind of crazy.

On the freaky side, for some reason, people wear mis-matched shoes her. We haven't just seen this once or twice, but nearly a dozen times. Some people will wear the same shoe, just in different colors-- a red on one foot and a blue on the other, for instance. Some people take it to the extreme, wearing a flip flop one foot and a snowboot on the other. I don't get it. I put on one high heel and one sandal for church yesterday, but it only lasted about 15 seconds before I decided I just couldn't jump on the bandwagon, no matter dorky I looked in my matching peep toes. But I did paint my toenails in black and white zebra stripes while my dress was a brown and pink paisley, so HA. My own way of mismatching. I know. I'm wild.

People have horses in the city. I heart this.

There's a large population of immigrants from Africa, and an Ethiopian church. We are excited about that, and hope to meet with their pastor to learn more about our children's culture and the way they practice and celebrate Christianity in Ethiopia.

I kind of feel like I've stumbled into the Twilight Zone, or Stepford, or Mayberry, or something like that. It's not what I expected at all, but I'll take it!

Don't judge a book by the cover.

2011-04-22T22:40:00.000-07:00

We have been at Brandon's new assignment for a few days, and it is absolutely unreal.

The assignment is in Kansas City. Boring, right? Crowded, congested, stressful, right? Brandon's recruiter has mentioned this assignment to us several times and we've never even considered it.

But we have hit the jackpot. Seriously.

We honestly had no idea what to expect. I always equated KC with crime and bad traffic. We were really concerned about finding a safe area to live, because I knew there were areas of the city with severe drug/crime problems. Luckily, we had some connections, so we ran some areas past them and got the stamp of approval. One of the areas happened to be the neighborhood Brandon's company usually used for housing, so we went with it.

The apartment is amazing. It is a totally different kind of apartment than we are used to. It's more like a condo community. It's not a tiny barebones apartment. . . it's the kind of a place that couples or small families can make home. It has brand new carpet (hallelujah!), real ceramic tile, a normal size bathtub, tall ceilings, crown molding, windows everywhere, and a real laundry ROOM with a built in washer and dryer. It's light, bright, and even clean enough to meet my approval. I. Love. It.

The area is also really nice. I've found great places to walk the dogs. There are beautiful parks and trails-- something I didn't expect. We even have a sweet bunny rabbit living in our yard. Brandon and I like to sit on our patio and watch him at night. It's not quite country living, but it's quieter and more peaceful than I would ever have imagined.

To make things even better, Brandon loves the hospital. This is the first place where he's been treated like regular staff from day one. Everyone has been so nice and welcoming to him, and he's been impressed with the way the ER functions. I was impressed by the handbook they sent home with him, which places a high priority on personal responsibility, respect, cooperation, and teamwork.

I keep waiting for the "catch." What will be the downside to this assignment? So far, it seems like a great hospital, a great apartment, a great location, close to home and close to friends. So what's the catch?

If there's not one, this might just go on my "dream sheet". It would go:

1. Brandon's dream job, location undisclosed
2. Win the lottery, pay off our student loans and move to Africa.
3. Move to Montana
4. Move to Maine
5. Move to Kansas City

Obviously, Kansas City is missing the mountains and wilderness that are vital for my perfect happiness, but a fantastic hospital and nice place to live go a long way. . . and we don't actually play the lottery, so there's probably no chance of 2 ever happening. . . so who knows? It's something to think about.

I'm having an affair. . .

2011-04-14T19:17:00.000-07:00

. . . with this.

Yes, I'm cheating on my vacuum. For the last 5 years, we have had a Rainbow vacuum. It's amazing. Primarily because I was able to pretend like I didn't know how to use it for three full years, but still. . . it's amazing even beyond the fact that Brandon does all the vacuuming. BUT. . . it's big. Really, really big. We did buy another cheap, "stick" vacuum for another apartment once, but it did a lousy job cleaning and broke after just a few uses.

Our furnished apartments usually come with a vacuum, but of course Brandon has been in an unfurnished apartment. So we've been taking turns with the Rainbow.

But we finally broke down and purchased this Bissell for the road. I'll be honest, I picked it for two reasons. 1, it was cheap and 2, it is small.

I love it. I seriously can't believe how much dirt this little vacuum can get out of the carpet!

And no, I didn't get paid anything to write this or anything like that. . . just wanted to pass on the info for other travelers who may be looking for a tiny vacuum to carry on the road.

Just in case there is any question about how much we already love our kids. . .

2011-04-02T19:53:00.000-07:00

You know how I said that the cool travel jobs seemed to be disappearing in lieu of the southern/midwestern areas? Apparently, I spoke too soon. . . because there are some AWESOME jobs available right now. I'm talking Hawaii, Alaska (our DREAM assignment), New York City. . .

. . . and Brandon isn't even applying. We would need to put our adoption on hold to go somewhere awesome like that. We need to be settled at home to adopt. So no Alaska or Hawaii for us. . . and we are totally okay with that. Okay, like 93% okay with that. ;) Maybe in a year or two after our kids are home and settled in with us, we'll be able to take a vacation to somewhere like Alaska or Hawaii. It will be 100x more fun to see it through their eyes anyway.

But if you have the freedom to travel, seriously, check into some of these opportunities. Then send me pictures so I can live vicariously through you. Just kidding. ;)

Goodbye, St. Louis

2011-03-24T20:22:00.001-07:00

The last post was a little more "rant-like" than I like to be, so hopefully this will make up for it.

Brandon's St. Louis contract was originally 12 weeks, but we fully expected to extend for longer. We hoped to stay here until Brandon starts his new permanent job this winter. We loved being able to live at home and for Brandon to be able to work in St. Louis three days a week and be home the other four. It was perfect-- we made tons of progress on the adoption and started working on our kids' rooms. It was the stability and home life that we wanted.

The manager at the hospital also expected for us to extend. She and Brandon had talked about it, and she had submitted the paperwork to HR weeks ago. We weren't even looking at other assignment possibilities.

Then, one day last week, Brandon and I both got a really weird feeling. We were in Arkansas, picking up some groceries, and it just hit us randomly. Have you seen Bruce Almighty? You know the scene where he's driving in the car and asking for guidance, and this truck passes him with all of these "DANGER AHEAD" flashing signs? It was kind of like that-- only we weren't asking for a sign, and we DID see it. The feeling was strong enough and random enough that it was like someone had all the sudden placed a flashing neon sign in front of us that said "GET OUT OF ST. LOUIS."

When we get those feelings (especially when we both get them at the same time), we trust it. We pray daily for God to lead us, and I believe that He does. So we took the gut feeling seriously and called Brandon's recruiter right there in the middle of the store.

His recruiter mentioned two possibilities for us that were still within a half day's drive of home. Brandon had his file sent to both, but honestly, we didn't expect to hear anything. We still had a few weeks left on the St. Louis contract and hospitals usually don't look that far out-- they want someone who can start immediately.

But a few hours later, Brandon got a call from one of the hospitals. He wasn't even expecting it. Normally, Brandon's company gives him a heads up about an interview call, but I guess they didn't even know it was coming. After a quick interview, Brandon was offered the job.

Brandon really connected with the manager, and was very excited about the ER. He was so impressed with the manager and the way she runs the ER. It was a job that we honestly hadn't even seriously considered, but when he hung up the phone, he said to me, "I want to work at that hospital." The only hang up was the pay, which again was lower than our norm, because the assignment is in a state with a lower bill rate. Like I said last time, that seems to be what happens when the economy gets tough. . . and with sky rocketing gas and grocery prices, we'll probably see more low paying locations and fewer high paying locations available until things level out again.

But this is why I love Brandon's travel nursing company. I mean, seriously love them. Brandon called and left a message for his recruiter saying that he had been offered the job and we were trying to make a decision. The recruiter called back and basically said, "Hey, I know you're in the adoption process and this would be a great job for you to be close to home and have good hours. I also know that adoption is super expensive and this pay is less than you normally get. I'll talk to our housing department and see if we can help you come up with a way to make this work."

First, I love that they care enough to remember that we are adopting and to be so supportive of that. Second, I love that they help us. They don't just leave us on our own to deal with it.

So with their help, we were able to make it work. Brandon officially accepted the contract. We are both really excited about this.

And that gut feeling? Right on the money. Less than 48 hours later, Brandon got word that the St. Louis extension fell through. The hospital had denied the manager's request for budget reasons. But if he had waited until he heard that to apply for other positions, we would have missed out on this new contract. If we hadn't called right away, while we were still at the grocery store, Brandon's contract wouldn't have gotten sent before 5:00, and the job probably would have been offered to someone else. I believe there is a reason for everything, and that there is a reason why we're supposed to be at this new contract. . . and I'm super thankful that it was all settled before we even had the stress of knowing that the hospital here wasn't going to be able to extend Brandon after all.

What NOT to do when apartment searching

2011-03-24T17:58:00.000-07:00

Travel nursing companies typically offer you a choice when it comes to housing-- either they will set it up for you and you don't have to worry about anything* or you can take a stipend and set up housing yourself. The stipend is a great option for people who can take it and pocket the money by staying with friends or roughing it in a cheap hotel. For those of us who want furnished apartments, it's usually better to let the travel company set it up. They are able to get better deals, use corporate discounts, etc. Since we prefer to have a nice, safe, completely furnished apartment, we avoid the stipend situation.

*Travel nursing companies vary in what they provide, which means your degree of worry also varies by company. When our company sets up housing for us, they really do take care of EVERYTHING-- deposits, utilities, pet rent, housewares, etc.

BUT. . . the cost of living is going up and contract pay seems to be going down. We've seen this cycle before-- from our perspective, it seems that when times are good, there are a lot of jobs on the coasts and in big cities that pay well. When the economy gets rough, these jobs start disappearing and there are more contracts in the south and the midwest where pay is significantly lower.

The job in St. Louis paid less (it's a Missouri thing) than our "norm", so we decided to take the stipend and rough it in an unfurnished apartment. Realistically, we could have afforded a furnished apartment and still have made a little bit of money on the stipend, but we are so close to home that we didn't plan on spending much time here anyway, AND we're saving up for an adoption-- our plan was to rough it and save up LOTS of money in a short amount of time.

The plan didn't work.

It could have worked. But we made some HUGE mistakes setting up this apartment. Rookie mistakes. Mistakes that cost us every bit of that money we should have earned by "roughing it." SO. . . to help other travel nurses avoid our mistakes (and to serve as a future reminder for us), I'm going to share what we did wrong and how you can avoid it.

1. Don't assume that apartment management companies have your best interest at heart. This is more a reminder for me than anyone else reading this. We've had some really great apartment managers in the past-- people who were very understanding about our situation and were willing to work with us on lease dates, extensions, etc. I assumed that was the norm, and that we could trust everyone to be up front with us. Am I a Pollyanna or what?

2. Be very specific about how much money it will cost you up front to get into the apartment (application fees, deposits, pet deposits, etc.) and how much of that is refundable-- and get it in writing. Factor this into your monthly fees to make sure your budget is realistic.
Application fees: application fees are typically $25-$50 dollars, and are non refundable. The apartment we are in right now charged a $310 application fee to our credit card. $310 for a 3 month lease. We knew that was ridiculous, but didn't argue with it because we were in a pinch-- we were short on time and hadn't found another option that was pet friendly, had a vacancy, and would take a 3 month lease. We thought it would be worth it at the time, it wasn't, and we'll never pay another outrageous application fee like that again.
Deposits: Deposits are expensive, there is no way around that. But pet deposits are negotiable, and SHOULD be at least partially refundable. The apartment we are in right now charged us a ridiculous non-refundable pet deposit for both dogs. An apartment I talked to today waived the fee for our second dog, and will refund 75% of the deposit at move out (unless our dogs destroy the apartment of course). We expected that our current apartment would at least repair pet damage since they charge so much, but when we moved in, there were numerous urine spots that had never been shampooed (none of which were listed on the inspection report). Again, a rookie mistake-- I should have requested that they shampoo the carpets on their dime since they were not acceptable on move in. Instead, I cleaned the carpets myself and purchased a roll of plastic to put on top of it so that our bed didn't have to touch it (I know, I know-- I'm OCD).

3. Be very specific about your monthly charges and get it in writing-- before you apply. Our apartment gave us a number for our monthly rent. Okay. So we paid our ridiculous application fee, deposit, and pet fee. . . THEN found out that we had to pay an additional monthly charge for cable (required), renters insurance (required), and pet rent (required for all three months even though our pets spent less than 4 weeks in the apartment the whole time and we explained up front that they would be living in Arkansas with me and would only be there occasionally when I came with Brandon).

(by this point, if you add up the money we spent up front and our additional monthly charges, we are up to $200 a month more than we thought we would be spending).

4. Ask about prorating-- in and out. We assumed that we would pay rent for the time we were in the apartment. They prorated our first month. But we just found out TODAY that even though our actual lease ENDS on a certain date, they are charging us for two extra weeks. Um, what? Our lease is ending. We are moving out. Our initial contract says nothing about this. Yet we checked, and they are legally covered in the fine print. But here's the real kicker. Not only are they charging us for these extra two weeks, they are charging it at a significantly higher rate-- which means we will pay an ENTIRE month of rent and only live there for a week of it. Our housing stipend certainly won't cover that.

Now this is, technically, our fault. They have a tiny fine print clause (that they never told us about over the phone or in person when we met with them to discuss the lease) that they have to have a 30 day written notice before we move out or else they can charge us this higher rate and we are legally obligated to pay it. But we never discussed that. We told them in the beginning that Brandon was a travel nurse, that his contract was 12 weeks and that we would be leaving after that. We had our lease written specifically to his contract dates. We paid a significantly higher premium each month in order to have a 12 week lease. They never told us that we had to give them additional notice in writing, BEYOND our original lease. However, they did leave a note on our door about it. . . while we were in Arkansas. We just got back to St. Louis yesterday, found the note, rushed over a written notice. . . too late. We have to pay the extra two weeks.

Here is where working with a reasonable apartment manager would be great. Now, we never once balked at any of their other charges. We didn't ask them to waive any deposits or fees, even the ones that they hit us with at the last minute. But this time, I asked. I said, "Since you guys knew we were here on a temporary assignment and that we were leaving on this date, can you help us out? Yes, we should have given you written notice, but until you left this letter on our door we weren't aware of that. We rushed it to you immediately. Can you help us out and only make us pay through the end of our lease? Or at least prorate those two weeks according to our original rent (which would have saved us a few hundred bucks)?

Nope. They wouldn't waive it, or even lower it. They really could care less.

It's just money. But do you know what makes me angry? This apartment building is taking away money that I had designated for our adoption fund. Brandon and I slept on a mattress on the floor during this assignment, thinking that we were making a sacrifice to help bring our kids home. Instead of helping bring our children home, that money will now pad the pockets of this huge corporation who charged us exorbitant amounts of rent to live in an apartment with urine filled carpets that they didn't even bother to shampoo for us. This is a NICE apartment complex, that jumped on the fact that we were renting sight unseen and stuck us in their "bad" building. It's at the back of the complex, filled with smokers, people who don't pick up their dogs' poop, college students and criminals. Meanwhile, the other buildings are full of nice families and older couples-- and have updated kitchens, new carpet, etc. I would tell you the name of the corporation, except that I'm still hoping to get our security deposit back. HA.

If you haven't figured it out yet, we are leaving St. Louis. I'm not sure what it is about this city, but we have bad luck here. Brandon accepted a new assignment and we are SO looking forward to it. I'll post more details later. It's still close enough that we can be home for adoption stuff and it's also close to some good friends that I'm looking forward to spending time with. I've been a lot more careful about our apartment hunt this time, and I think I've found a really great place-- our company has used it a lot the other nurses have great things to say about it, and the manager is an actual PERSON instead of corporation. He has worked with a lot of travel nurses and we were able to negotiate a contract that works for us and the apartment as well.

I've now interviewed a dozen apartments for the area, and I'll give you a rundown of my new format

Hi, my name is blah blah and my husband works for blah blah blah. He is a travel nurse and will be in the area from blah to blah. Have you ever worked with travel nurses, and are you able to provide short term corporate leases? (If your company has already worked with the apartment, mention that-- it helps).
(If they respond positively and say they can do a three month lease) Do you prorate both in and out? Can we set the lease terms to fit our contract dates?
Sometimes we extend our contracts. If we were to extend, could you extend our lease at the same rate or would the rate increase?
Is there an additional rent premium for a short term lease? Can you waive this?
How much is your application fee? What is your application process? How much is the deposit? What other monthly fees/services are included? What is the monthly pet rent-- is that for both dogs or per pet? What is the pet deposit, and how much is refundable?
Can you waive the pet deposit? Can you waive the pet rent? (It doesn't hurt to ask. I got several places to waive at least half of it, only charging us for one dog)
Do you work with any furniture rental companies?

So those were my questions-- I got a lot of interesting responses. I scratched anyone off the list who seemed mechanical/non flexible. We're waiting to talk to a couple of other places before we make an official decision, but our "first choice" right now was willing to waive the short term lease premium, waive the second pet deposit and second pet rent, refund the first pet deposit at 75%, change their prorating policy to accommodate our specific contract, and give us a choice of apartments based on our priorities. I've gotta say, I'm pretty impressed! I feel good about our next assignment. I'm just ready for it to get here.

Wilderness. . . ?

2011-03-19T01:29:00.000-07:00

Last time I wrote, I shared that Brandon and I had some big decisions to make.

Brandon and I recently both took personality tests. Oddly enough, we both had the exact same personality type (despite answering the questions in different ways) and our personality type happens to be quite rare. According to the profile, less than 2% of the population has this specific type.

Part of what it said about our personality type is that when we make decisions, we don't ask anyone for input. We prefer to get away by ourselves, think through the problem, and come to a decision. We usually don't even tell anyone the dilemma until we are completely confident in our decision (as a side note, it made me laugh because we said almost the same exact thing during our homestudy when our social worker asked us how we dealt with stress).

The day we were presented with new information/options in our adoption and Brandon's future job, I said, "Hey, let's go camping." I wanted to get away from all outside influences. I wanted to be alone in the wilderness, surrounded only by the friendly chatter of nearby birds, and maybe the cheerful laughter of a babbling brook. I wanted to walk, for miles, without any particular destination. I wanted to sleep under the stars. I wanted to smell the woods. I wanted to feel small. I wanted to talk through both situations, pray, meditate, and not come back until we had some resolution.

Unfortunately. . . Arkansas may be the "Natural" state, but there really isn't any true wilderness within an hour drive, and since our car had to be put in the shop (again-- seriously, it's time to stop making it drive us all over the country), we were quite limited. We ended up choosing a nearby nature center that supposedly had hiking trails (I'm not sure you can really call it a hiking trail, since it was paved and took less than 45 minutes-- even with my doubling back to the car to stow my empty Route 44 Sonic cup, then doubling back to the main center bathrooms because I had just finished a Route 44 drink, my stopping to pet a very strange dog, and my stopping to sit on a wet log because I wanted for the group of 30 + noisy children to get way, way ahead of us before resuming our walk).

Obviously, we weren't going to do any meditating or thinking out there. So instead, we went home and drank a bottle of wine, which gave us a surprising amount of clarity (in fact, Brandon went so far as to say that he understands the Bible so much better now that he drinks wine-- wow!) (and just in case you are offended by that, I'll explain that he was referring to all of the passages that actually refer to wine or use it as an illustration).

(Of course, getting a phone call from Brandon's future employer with some good news about his future prospects helped too.)

So. . .

We're sticking with our current adoption plan, and have made peace with the fact that it will likely take longer than we expected.

Brandon decided to (for now) pass up the opportunity that was presented to him in favor of his dream job. The position definitely had benefits, but would have required a long commitment. Realistically, he would never have been able to do the job he really wants to do. He has the opportunity to do exactly what he wants to do-- that is something worth waiting a few more months for.

So there we are. Decisions made. I'm still dying for a trek into the wilderness, but I'm sure we'll make it out of Arkansas and back to the mountains someday.

Tornadoes and flooding and Dayquil-- oh my!

2011-03-07T12:35:00.000-08:00

I've been feeling some major blogger-guilt for practically abandoning this blog. Not that you've been missing anything-- I can't talk about the ER or Brandon's job, I haven't even been in St. Louis, and my life in Arkansas is so ridiculously boring that you would fall asleep if I even attempted to describe it.

So, in an effort to give you something interesting to read, I packed my bags and headed to St. Louis for a little mini-vacation at Brandon's work apartment (yes, it was totally for you-- missing my husband had nothing to do with it at all *winks*).

We had big plans-- hiking trails, the wildlife refuge, the St. Louis Zoo, and maybe dinner on The Hill (little Italy).

Unfortunately, I forgot to check the weather before making this plans. Turns out, it's really hard to do those things with tornadoes, hailstorms, and widespread flooding.

The best we could manage was a very cold, wet trip to the dog park.

What happens when two people stand shivering for an hour in a cold, wet dog park with mud up to their ankles? Those two people get serious head and chest colds.

What happens when two people decide (at 2 am) to take some cold medicine, but choose Dayquil instead of Nyquil so that they will still wake up "fresh" in the morning? Those two people lie awake all night, hearts racing, staring at the ceiling. Those two people eventually doze off hours later and wake even more sick the next afternoon.

So, nothing truly interesting to report. That could change soon though.

Brandon has a meeting later this week with his hopeful/future/possible/probable employer. While we aren't expecting any new news, rumor has it that a meeting later this month might answer the question as to *when* this position will be open. . . which means it's possible that we will have announcement and timeline by the end of this month. Our expectation is that even if that does happen, the best case scenario is that we will have an official contract in hand but that the actual job won't start until fiscal year 2012-- which is exactly what we are hoping for.

Our Future Plans (sort of)

2011-02-27T16:59:00.000-08:00

Every time I write a post like my last one, where I make vague references to our future plans, I start getting emails from friends who are (understandably) confused. "Are you settling down?" "Has Brandon taken a permanent job?" "Where are you moving?" "Do you guys have definite plans yet?"

I'm sorry for the confusion-- I'm really not trying to confuse people or contradict what we've already told you! It's just that we have a game plan in our minds, but time lines keep changing. For one thing, the adoption comes first. . . and as those timelines keep getting pushed back, so do all the others. Second, we're "holding out" for something that we don't really have any control over.

Here's the scoop:

Brandon has a potential future job lined up. This is THE job, the one he really wants. The problem is that they definitely want him, but the position isn't available yet. We're hoping that it comes open this fall/winter, but realistically, it's not going to open until 2012. There's even a chance it won't open at all. That's really all I'm able to say about it.

Our tentative plan, for the time being, is to keep taking travel assignments that are close to home so that we can be here and prepare for our kids. We definitely don't want to travel for real while adjusting to parenting and helping our kids adjust to life with us. But as of right now, we aren't interested in taking permanent jobs in our hometown. That's what I mean by being glad we aren't settling here, even though we are "settled" here for the time being. We just don't want to tie ourselves down here, knowing that Brandon has the opportunity to move into his dream job in the next year-year and a half. Sure, it would be easier to take jobs here in town so that Brandon doesn't have to drive back and forth from the nearby cities. But there are psychological and practical benefits to continuing to "travel" even if we're actually home. For one thing, it saves me from having to redo all the employment/financial information on our adoption paperwork. ;) For another, it keeps us flexible, which is great when considering that we're going to need two good chunks of time off of work to travel to Africa. It's the best of both worlds-- all the flexibility and benefits of traveling, with the stability of home and community.

So, yes, we're settled here at home, but no, we're not settled here. And yes, we're still traveling, but no, we're not actually traveling. And yes, Brandon has a future job lined up, but no, it's not really lined up. Until he has an official contract in hand, we can only consider it a probability.

Make sense? Haha. Now you understand why I seem to contradict myself!

Can you go home again?

2011-02-20T10:59:00.000-08:00

The first month of Brandon's St. Louis assignment has already come and gone, and it's been very interesting. In some ways, we are reliving our first St. Louis experience. With the exception of a few days, I have lived at home and Brandon has traveled back and forth. Actually, that's stretching things a bit. He's only had the opportunity to come home once. The hospital has been very cooperative with block scheduling, but the weather has not been cooperative with snow-- I'm talking the kind of massive snow/ice storms that have shut down the interstates separating us. By the time everything opened up, Brandon had to return to work. The one time the weather was beautiful, Brandon's car had to be put in the shop-- probably from driving over 11 inches of unplowed snow to get to the hospital. Such is life.

So the end result is that I've been living at home, by myself. It's a very strange thing.

We started traveling in the spring of 2008. At that time, our plan was to travel for two years, then return here to our hometown for a few years. We knew we didn't want to live here forever, but we had no idea where we wanted to go. For some reason, we didn't feel like we had deep roots here, despite both having grown up here. We hoped that through travel nursing, we would find that place that felt like "home."

And we did. We discovered that for us, "home" isn't so much a place, but a feeling. It's curling up on the couch together to watch StormChasers and share a pizza. It's a great hiking trail, where we can spend a few hours connecting with each other. It's having our morning coffee together, in our favorite mugs. It's talking late into the night. It's corny, cheesy, and flies in the face of my independent nature; but the truth is, my "home" is Brandon.

So without Brandon, "home" does not feel like home. At all.

More than anything, it's a reminder of why we left in the first place.

Our lives looked so different when we lived here. We were both working full time, different shifts. I left for work before Brandon even woke. He would usually stop by to see me for 2 or 3 minutes on his way to work, but that was all we had time for. I was usually in bed asleep before he got home. I tried sleeping in half shifts so that I could have evenings with him-- e.g., sleeping from 8-midnight, waking to spend a couple of hours with him, then sleeping from 3-6. That didn't work very well. Weekends were great except that we were still on different sleeping/eating schedules, and Brandon had to work every other weekend, so time was still limited. I think that's one of the reasons we didn't put down "roots" here-- our time together was so limited and precious that we didn't want to get involved in any other obligations.

We were also falling into the patterns that surrounded us. I'm not talking about negative patterns-- just the normal patterns of life. Things like how long you should wait to have children after marriage, what kind of jobs you should work, what kind of house you should have, how you should spend your money, how you should spend your free time, the impact extended family should have on your own family, privacy (or the lack thereof), what church should look like, etc. But it didn't feel right. We both had this feeling we couldn't shake that maybe what was right for our friends and family wasn't right for us. . . that there was some unknown and completely unfamiliar adventure waiting for us just over the horizon, but that as long as we played it safe and stuck to what we knew and saw around us, we would miss out on something truly remarkable.

That's why I've said so many times that travel nursing was the best decision we've ever made. It forced us to figure out who we were, both individually and as a couple. It forced us to evaluate ourselves outside of the constructs in which we had grown. It forced us to learn to play by our own rules. It forced us to grow up.

One week, we were working familiar, safe jobs in a familiar, safe town. Both his and my parents were living less than a mile from us. We knew the town like the back of our hands. Anytime something went wrong, there was someone we could call to help us. It sounds awesome-- and in some ways, it was-- but we never grew.

Then we packed up and hit the road, and all the sudden, we were living somewhere radically different than what we had known. We didn't know a soul. There was nobody we could call for help. For the first time, we were really, truly on our own. It was harder than we could ever have predicted. If you've been following us for long, you know that we wanted to quit after the first assignment. But we stuck it out, and it was so worth it.

It's been well over two years now (we will hit the 3 year anniversary very soon!), and I'm definitely looking forward to saying goodbye to travel nursing and starting the next phase of our lives. Brandon is very excited about his new/future job, and I'm excited about starting our family and "settling down". But I'm really happy that we aren't coming back to our hometown to settle. I know that's hard for a lot of our friends and family to understand. Often, they take it personally, thinking that we don't care about them. That's not the case at all! We just don't want to fall back into the patterns that didn't work for us. We don't want safe and familiar. I love that what we're doing next is going to be a challenge-- even more challenging than travel nursing was. I love that it's another adventure, that it's a little bit (okay, a lot) scary, and that it's going to force us to keep growing. I love that it's going to force me to get even more out of my comfort zone.

So perhaps the best thing about this assignment is that it's given me some closure. You really can't go home again. It was an awkward fit before, and it doesn't work at all now. We are different people than we were when we first hit the road 3 years ago. In some ways, that makes me sad. This is a great town, and most of the people dearest to our hearts live here. It's one thing to leave for 3 months at a time and still maintain our permanent home and level of connection here. It will be another thing completely to actually sell our house and let go of that physical connection. I won't lie, the thought really does make me sad. It will be strange to move on and know that life is still going on here, that I'm missing out on watching the children in the family grow up and missing the day to day lives of our friends. But I'm excited about the future, and convinced that we're doing exactly what we should be doing.

I'm ready for the next chapter. Just a few more months. . .

The end of Crazy ER Stories

2011-01-22T13:42:00.000-08:00

I won't be sharing any Crazy ER Stories for the duration of this assignment, per hospital policy.

We always go to great lengths to protect patient privacy. We have both received HIPAA training. Brandon is 110% HIPAA compliant and never gives me any potentially identifiable information when he tells me stories about his day. The situations-- read: the punchlines-- in Crazy ER Stories are all real and true, but the details about patients, patient families, medical problems, dates of treatment, location of treatment, etc., are changed or completely made up.

But his new hospital has a policy that goes even beyond HIPAA. All employees are asked to sign a document that prevents any discussion of patient situations at all, even if all potentially identifying information is withheld, and even for the purpose of professional case studies or training of other healthcare providers.

We will respect and uphold this policy, which means a temporary end to stories from the ER.

(random side note: I recently had a good friend tell me that it really hurt her feelings that I never acknowledged her illness and hospital stay a couple of years ago. I had no idea what she was talking about. She had assumed that Brandon would tell me that she was sick, since he was her attending RN. Nope, he had never breathed a word. So if you are my friend and are in the hospital and want me to know, give me a phone call!)

Oops, we did it again.

2011-01-22T13:07:00.000-08:00

Brandon's last assignment in St. Louis was a nightmare.

It was his first (and only) straight nights assignment. We both hated the nights schedule. We were constantly tired and had to be quiet all the time. The hospital was in the heart of St. Louis and was constant chaos. The hospital also paid less than anywhere we had ever been, so we took an unfurnished apartment to save money and slept on an air mattress and camping chairs. It was one of the hardest assignments we've ever done.

It left such a bad taste in our mouths that we said, "Never again." But when priorities change, you do things you wouldn't otherwise do. . . which is why we turned down much better situations to be able to live at home and move forward in our adoption.

We had no intentions of getting another unfurnished apartment, but as we checked into a variety of places, we realized we had a big decision to make-- a nicely furnished apartment in a rough area, or an unfurnished apartment in a wonderful community with the lowest crime rate I've ever seen. We picked the latter.

Still, we thought we would furnish through a rental company. But have you seen those prices? It's insane. It might be worth it if the furnishings were super nice and new, but they never are. So, since Brandon was going to have block scheduling and only have to be here 3 days a week... we skipped the furniture rental.

Which is why we found ourselves again driving to St. Louis with our camping chairs in the back of our car. Only this time, we didn't even have an air mattress (it didn't survive the last St. Louis assignment).

Our guest bed (which may end up being a child's bed depending on what age we adopt) desperately needed new mattresses anyway, so we ordered a new mattress to be delivered to the St. Louis apartment. It was supposed to arrive on the same day Brandon moved in. But. . . we got 9 inches of snow. So for three nights, we've been sleeping on the floor in sleeping bags. Talk about roughing it!

You're probably expecting me to say how miserable we are, and how we regret doing this. But we're not, and we don't. Strangely enough, this assignment seems to have a lot of great potential. It's a different hospital, and so far, Brandon has been really impressed by the quality of his coworkers and the way the ER is ran. The apartment is quiet and private, and in a gorgeous area. . . made even more beautiful by the undisturbed snow. We have a great place within walking distance for the dogs to play, and a wonderful grocery store right down the road. So far, everything about this assignment has surpassed our expectations. I imagine it will only get better when Brandon's bed arrives.

I'm happy that we'll mostly be at home, but I'm also glad that it's looking like a good situation for Brandon. It always helps to have a good hospital and a comfortable place to stay.

Post Wisconsin

2011-01-21T09:26:00.000-08:00

Leaving Wisconsin was very strange. We had extended Brandon's contract there for so long that it had really started feeling "permanent." Even the hospital staff had completely forgotten that Brandon was temporary. By the end, he had been there longer than many of their permanent nurses, and was actually orienting new hires to the department. We had gotten really comfortable at our church, we had made friends in the community, and we were getting involved in ways we normally don't. It was definitely not a normal travel assignment.

So on one hand, it was a relief to leave-- we're obviously ready to have a more settled, involved life, and despite our Wisconsin involvement, it still felt like limbo. It still wasn't home, and we couldn't move forward in our adoption while working so far away.

But on the other hand, it was actually tough to say goodbye. We had bonded with people on a much deeper level. Leaving was the best thing for us, but it was hard.

But going home was amazing. Seriously amazing.

That's where we are now. Living at home. Normalcy. Stability. Pretty radical stuff for us. =)

Brandon is still a travel nurse, but he took an assignment in a city close to St. Louis and negotiated block scheduling so that he only has to be there three days a week. Brandon's new non-travel job will start at some point later this year (and again, I'm sorry that I can't share those details like I promised. Brandon still isn't quite comfortable with it), and we are hopeful that he will be able to extend his Missouri contract until the new permanent job begins.

Oh, and as a side note. . . we got to celebrate New Years together this year, in our house, with a bottle of champagne and a kiss at midnight. I'm pretty sure that means that 2011 is going to be awesome. There are BIG changes happening this year, but I am crazy excited about everything that is to come!

Moving Day

2011-01-20T09:56:00.000-08:00

I apologize (again) for the lack of updating (wow, I feel like I'm always apologizing for that!). Our life has been in a crazy state of upheaval and I took a serious break from the computer. So let me catch you up. . .

Since my last post, I've had some interesting discussions with people about healthcare, insurance, ethics, moral responsibility, and personal responsibility. I am still interested in hearing what YOU think, so drop me a line and let me know!

Also since my last post, Brandon finished his assignment in Wisconsin. Our last week in WI was crazy, as Brandon was working 5 back to back 12 hour shifts, and I was overwhelmed with trying to pack up our apartment (on top of finishing up handmade Christmas items, baby gifts, and Etsy orders).

Moving day was insane. We woke up early that morning to find that our neighbor was also moving, and had parked a semi in front of our apartment. They had turned our walkway into a moving ramp. So we couldn't pull our car up anywhere close to the apartment, and we couldn't use the walkway. We had to carry our stuff across the yard and around the truck. Did I mention that we had just received a foot of snow? And the snow plows had pushed it up to our yard? Which meant that we were crawling over about two feet of snow with our giant suitcases and tubs?

Oh, and remember the bet I mentioned? How I bet Brandon that I could fit everything inside of our car without shipping anything home? Well that bet was made with the understanding that all of Brandon's clothes, Brandon's shoes, the Wii, the Wii balance board, and his Wii games would fit into his suitcase. He assured me that was the case. So in my mind, I had the car mapped out-- the trunk would hold both of our large suitcases, our yoga mats and my craft supplies; the backseat would hold the dog kennel (with Ralph inside), the laundry basket (with towels, washcloths, blankets, and ski pants inside), our overnight bags and the laptops. Everything else (books, dvds, kitchen gear, dog gear, Christmas gifts, etc.) would be squeezed in wherever it would fit, and I would hold Fiona in my lap.

So imagine my surprise when Brandon brought out a full suitcase, a garbage bag full of clothes, a third bag full of shoes, and a fourth bag packed with the Wii items. Instead of switching clothes out over the last few months, he had just brought more and more to Wisconsin.

I was not happy.

But I'm incredibly stubborn, and I was DETERMINED to win the bet. Brandon felt really bad that he had so much, and he wanted to just head to the post office to immediately ship a huge box home. No way. I was going to make it happen, somehow.

So I packed and repacked, and found ways to save space. I packed shampoo bottles in Brandon's shoes and crammed items into every square inch. It took me four hours straight to pack that car, but I did it. No shipping items home, no throwing items away.

That was only the beginning. We still needed to do a final cleaning of the apartment. . . and the apartment management was PICKY. The cleaning list they sent us asked me to do things like clean the windows inside and out. Easy enough with the normal windows, but the picture windows that were 16 feet off the ground in the entryway? Right, because travel nurses always travel with 12 foot ladders in their cars.

But the worst part of the cleaning process was when the vacuum cleaner died. . . about 30 seconds after I started to vacuum. Now this was bad. Really bad. Our floors looked awful. We tried so hard to not track in snow and sidewalk salt, but the entryway was pretty rough after four hours of loading the car. I had also cut 13 yarn pom poms the night before, which meant that the carpet in front of my crocheting chair was absolutely covered in fuzz.

We spent two hours trying to find a vacuum we could borrow. Nada. We finally gave up and did the best we could with a broom and a damp rag.

By the time we hit the road, we only had an hour and a half of daylight left. We wimped out. We drove four hours before we pulled over to spend the night in a hotel.

I think we're getting too old for this.

Crazy ER Stories-- Leave your politics at the door

2010-12-26T10:38:00.000-08:00

I originally wrote this post a few weeks ago while I was in the middle of sharing Crazy ER stories. The original post contained four Crazy ER Stories as well as a lengthy commentary from me on what I believe to be problems in our health care system. But then something happened in our lives, and this post took on new meaning for me. Rather than tell you what I think, I'm going to instead share several stories. Some of these are recent, some are old stories that I never shared. I'm skipping the commentary, no matter how strong the temptation. Then, you'll have a chance to tell me what YOU think. I hope you will. I'll share my thoughts on a later post.

** Each patient in the following four stories receives free health care from the state. Two of the patients have state plans that require a copay-- a copay of $1. Neither of them paid it. Most don't, because Emergency Departments are required to see every patient, whether or not the patients are able to pay.

Crazy ER Stories: Is that free?

A young mom came to the ER with her sick child. The mom had a new smart phone, a fresh manicure, and designer jeans.

The doctor saw the child and diagnosed an antibiotic (generic-- $4). Brandon brought the prescription into the room and was going over it with the mom, who looked up from browsing the internet on her smart phone and said, "Wait-- is that free? You're giving that to me free, right? If not, we don't want it."

Brandon replied, "Well, it's a prescription, so you'll have to go to the store to pick it up. But this particular prescription only costs $4, and it's really important that you fill it, because your child needs it to get well."

"You'll have to check whether or not it's one my insurance will cover, because I'm not paying for it."

Crazy ER Stories: The government is awesome!

Brandon treated a man in the ER who was talking about his plans for a family. A few facts, before you ask. First, I swear I'm not making this up. Second, you might be interested in knowing that this man was from a different county. He had already been banned from every single ER in his own county, for calling ambulances on a regular basis to take him to the ER for non-emergencies, and for being demanding and belligerent to the staff.

"Yeah, I was in the ER last week and I shared a room with a girl, and we got to talking, and it turns out we're both on disability!"

"Oh, yeah?" Brandon responded.

"Yeah. I make $4,000 a month from the government, and she makes about $3,000. Anyway, we came up with the best plan."

"What's that?" he asked absently, listening to the guy's chest with his stethoscope.

"Well, we can make even more money if we have a child, so we're going to have a baby together."

This got Brandon's attention.

"What?"

"Yeah! It's great. I mean, the baby won't cost us anything. We looked it up on the internet. The government will pay all of her medical expenses, and then we'll get more money just for having a child! Isn't our government amazing? Man, I am so thankful for this. I mean, I hated working. It just wasn't for me, you know? Having to listen to a boss tell you what to do all the time, it sucks, man. I am just so much happier now that I get to do what I want."

Crazy ER Stories: That's your job.

One afternoon, Brandon got a patient who came in by ambulance. He recognized her immediately. "Hey, weren't you here this morning?"

"Yeah, I was," the patient replied.

"Okay, what were you here for this morning?"

"I was having trouble breathing, so I called an ambulance."

"What was your diagnosis?"

"I don't know, I guess I didn't get one," the lady shrugged.

"Well, we don't let you leave until we have a diagnosis. You should have received some papers when you were discharged. What did the papers say?"

"I don't know, I didn't actually read them. They are at home somewhere."

"Oooookay," Brandon went on, "Well did the doctor prescribe any medicine or breathing treatments for you?"

"Yeah."

"Did they not help?"

"I don't know, I didn't pick them up from the pharmacy. When I felt like I needed a treatment, I called the ambulance again and got them to give me one on the way here. I'm fine now, can I go home?"

"Um, no, you can't. So you didn't fill your prescription, you didn't give yourself any of the breathing treatments, and you didn't read the papers that went over your diagnosis and treatment plan?"

"No. I figured I'd just come back if it happened again and let you guys treat me."

"Alright, well, I'll tell the doctor."

"Hey, on your way, could you heat my lasagna up in the microwave and bring it back to me with a coke? Thanks," the lady tossed a Tupperware container full of lasagna at Brandon, picked up the remote control and flipped on the tv.

Crazy ER Stories: Classic Drug Seeker

Brandon's first patient of the day was a woman he recognized. He had seen her twice in the last week. Her symptoms were always the same-- intense pain, for which the doctors could not find any legitimate cause.

When Brandon saw her that day, the case sent off a lot of red flags. She was exhibiting classic drug seeking behaviors, and that, coupled with her multiple ER visits, was a bad sign. So he started calling pharmacies.

As it turned out, this woman had been to ERs all over the state, and had been getting physicians to prescribe Vicodin for her. In the last month, she had received 685 Vicodin. When the nurses gave her a more thorough physical, they discovered crushed up Vicodin in her nostrils.

And finally, the 5th story. . .

Brandon recently lost a good friend. She worked in one of the ERs where Brandon used to work. Brandon described her as one of the most hard working, caring women he had ever met. He had so much respect for her.

She worked full time and picked up as much overtime as she could. Money was tight, so she declined the hospital's health insurance. Her family needed every dime of her paycheck, and she couldn't afford to have such a large amount deducted each week.

But she had a health condition. A very treatable condition, but one that was dangerous without treatment. She decided to risk it, because she had to make a choice-- take time off of work and pay for treatment, or continue working and pay her bills.

She passed away due to complications from her treatable condition. It is absolutely heartbreaking, and unnecessary. Some simple preventative care could have made all the difference in the world. I am so very sorry for her family and friends. She was a wonderful, sweet person, and the world lost someone who tried every day to make it a better place.

YOUR TURN. Some things to think about.

Do you think there is a problem in our healthcare system? If so, what do you think are the problems?
Do you think the healthcare reform bill that passed this year will help or hurt the situation? Why?
Do you think we are helping people who need a hand up, or enabling people to become dependent on the government? Why?
Do you think we should do more? Less? Something entirely different?
Do you think that programs like Medicaid and other state paid healthcare programs are a positive thing for people who need assistance, or reward people for bad choices and punish people for good ones? Why?
Do you think the first four ER stories illustrate people who take advantage of the system, or who became dependent on the system? (In other words, is the system at fault? Or is it the people?)
There are people who take advantage of the system and people who honestly need help. Some people fall into both categories-- they honestly need help, but use resources irresponsibly. Do you think it's better to continue helping those who really need it, even though it means allowing others to take advantage? Or is it it better to cut off benefits, even though it means that people who need help won't be able to get it?
Do you see a way to provide assistance that helps everyone who needs it without allowing people to take advantage?
If you were in charge of fixing our system, what would you do?

There are no right or wrong answers. This is complicated and messy. People have different opinions and worldviews. I hope we can all respect opinions that differ from our own. I do really hope to hear what you think, but please-- no inflammatory or abusive comments. They will be deleted. And finally, an even bigger request-- I would really love it if we could discuss this without making it overtly political.

So your turn. What do you think?

Our Christmas, Part 2-- Christmas Day

2010-12-26T09:56:00.000-08:00

Christmas Day really is not my favorite day of the year.

Since Brandon always has to work, and since we have our holiday early, Christmas is a "work day" for both of us. For the last two years, Christmas has also fallen on a day when we are getting ready to end an out of state assignment-- which means I'm alone in a strange city, and I spend my day packing, cleaning, and wondering how on earth we managed to accumulate so much stuff in a part time corporate apartment. Brandon always reminds me that I can stay home and celebrate with our extended families, but there is no way that I would abandon him on the holidays. It's sad enough that he has to work and miss everything, I can't imagine him also coming home to an empty apartment at night.

So I do try to make the morning a little "special." For instance, I added bacon to our breakfast menu. This benefited our dog, Fiona, more than it benefited me, since she snagged my slice right off of my plate while I poured a second cup of coffee. Although, if we're being honest, not having the bacon will probably benefit me more in the long run.

Even though it's "normal" for us to work on Christmas, it's still hard on us both. Once Brandon is gone, I pretty much try to ignore the fact that it is Christmas. I avoid facebook. I don't send the group "Merry Christmas" text messages. I don't listen to Christmas music. It's not that I'm a Scrooge-- I love Christmas, and really do hope that everyone has a wonderful day celebrating with family. I just don't need the constant reminders of what I'm missing. It's a small mental shift that makes a big difference in my attitude. "Brandon and I had a wonderful Christmas together and now it's back to work as usual" = happy and productive. "It's Christmas and I'm alone in strange city where I don't know anyone, Brandon is going to be gone for 12-14 hours, I'm stuck at home without a car, and all of my friends and family are celebrating and feasting 600 miles away" = feeling sorry for myself. It's a glass half full/half empty kind of thing.

So I kept my glass half full and had a wonderfully productive day, despite being hit by-- are you ready for this?-- a foot of snow. Yes, a foot. We are right on the lake, and got pummeled by unexpected lake effect snow. When Brandon left for work, we were only expecting 2 inches. The dogs and I spent a lot of time outside, because they love playing in it, and I'll admit that I enjoy throwing snowballs at them. Their love for the snow surpassed mine, and I finally had to just let them play in the 3-4 inches that had piled up on our balcony while I stayed comfy and dry in the house.

All in all, it was a good day. . . and we still have one more "Christmas" to look forward to-- a late celebration with family featuring AFRICA and Ethiopian food. I'll take pictures and share.

As I always do when I'm alone on the holidays, I spent some time thinking about our troops overseas. I had never really thought about the emotions they must experience on Christmas until I spent my first Christmas alone a couple of years ago. They have it much harder than I do. They go months without seeing their loved ones. They sacrifice so much, and miss holidays and special moments with their families that they can never get back. Please remember them. There are a lot of ways you can make a difference. You can send care packages and special treats, make donations, and remember them in your prayers. I encourage you all to find a way to say thanks and make a soldier's day a little brighter.

Merry Christmas. I hope you all had a wonderful day. =)

"Our Christmas" Part 1- Six Years

2010-12-22T10:13:00.001-08:00

It's 1:00 AM on December 22, and "Our Christmas" has officially started!

Brandon has to work Christmas Day and all the days surrounding (that's life for an ER nurse), so we chose a different day for Christmas. The 22nd is "our" day because it is also the anniversary of our very first date.

Six years ago today, Brandon picked me up at my grandmother's house. I was in town for Christmas, and we made plans to go to dinner with a group of friends. It was never meant to be a date. We were simply friends who hadn't seen each other in over a year, and had been talking on the phone quite a bit. I'll be honest. I definitely had feelings for him, but I didn't expect for them to go anywhere. I thought my feelings were only lingering sentimentality from growing up as best friends. I figured that my memories were hazy and rose colored after years of living in different states. I thought we didn't have a chance of making things work in "real life." We were too different. We were on completely different life paths.

But when I opened the door that evening and saw him standing there on the steps, my heart betrayed me. He wasn't my teenage best friend any more. He was different. . . and I knew that I desperately wanted to get to know the man standing in front of me.

He felt the same way. Later he told me that he expected for his kid friend Courtney to open the door, but that instead, he found himself face to face with this "drop dead gorgeous woman" (his words, not mine-- and I'm sure that was just love talking, as most people still think I look like a kid).

We went to dinner with our friends, then went to a coffeeshop and talked for hours. When the coffeeshop closed, we went to my cousin's house and talked even more, sipping cocoa in her chilly attic.

When I walked him to his car late that night, he hugged me for the very first time. In that moment, I knew that my life was turning upside down.

But looking back now, I know that I had no idea how radically my life plan really was going to change. Before that night, my ten year plan included me getting my doctorate, starting what would certainly be a fantastic career, and buying a fabulous apartment somewhere in Seattle or New York City. It was a pencil skirts, stilettos, and martinis kind of plan. My back up plan (in case I failed graduate school and needed to hide away in shame) involved raising horses on a little mountain ranch in Wyoming or Montana, and becoming "that crazy lady with a shotgun." It was a flannel shirts, cowboy boots, and whiskey kind of plan.

Six years later, my life looks radically different than I ever imagined. I am married to the most amazing man on the planet, and I fall more in love with him every single day. I still haven't even applied to grad school, although I'll admit that I think it's still a "someday" thing for me. I no longer want that city apartment (although I would be quite happy with a ranch in Montana). My career history is less than impressive, since I've spent the last three years as a (gasp!) stay at home wife. Brandon will soon be starting his own new career, which will change my life even more, and in a way that I swore up and down I would never do before he came into my world (but I'm still not at liberty to tell you about that, you'll just have to take my word for it). I'm going to become a mommy to three Ethiopian sweethearts all at one time (hopefully!) and crazily enough, there is NOTHING in the world I want more. It's a sweaters, snow boots, and cheap champagne kind of life, and the funny thing is that it fits me better than any plan I ever would have come up with on my own.

So this Christmas, I can't help but think back on that night six years ago when Brandon showed up on my doorstep and this crazy journey began. . .

Always good to go home.

2010-12-17T08:55:00.000-08:00

My apologies for falling off the face of the planet for awhile.

Brandon and I were given a beautiful gift last week-- a fabulous travel nurse offered to switch shifts with him, giving us time to GO HOME. This was awesome. It saved us a fortune in shipping, because after living here for *gasp* 8 months, our apartment was quite full. It will still be a challenge to squeeze everything into our car when it's time to move out (less than 2 weeks!!), but I think it's doable. I sure hope it's doable, because I made a bet with Brandon that I can fit everything in, and I really hate to lose. If there is any possible way to do it, I'll do it-- even if it means carrying a suitcase in my lap!

The trip home was wonderful. We ate Mexican food four times (it's impossible to find really good Mexican food in Wisconsin), we got to wear regular clothes and light jackets (it was 50 degrees in Arkansas, vs. the single digit temps Wisconsin was experiencing), and we got to sleep in a bed that didn't feel like a piece of plywood. Amazingly enough, those three things made our long weekend at home feel like a 5 star vacation.

Of course, we are talking about me and Brandon here, so things couldn't stay perfect for long. Our plan was to drive back to Wisconsin on Sunday, but you may have seen something about a little snowstorm on the news. You know, the one that dumped so much snow that it collapsed the metrodome? Yeah.

As we were packing our suitcases Saturday night, Brandon checked the weather on his phone. Blizzard warning. Great.

Sunday morning, the storm was already wreaking havoc on our driving route. St. Louis was covered in black ice, and blowing snow was creating whiteout conditions over nearly 2/3 of our drive.

So, we decided to stay put and hit another Mexican restaurant for lunch. I mean, what else could we do?

By 2:30, it looked like we could take a slightly longer route and make it to Illinois, just east of St. Louis. We decided to go for it, spend the night there, and try to drive to Wisconsin on Monday morning.

As we drove, we realized that the weather wasn't the problem on the roads. Sure, there were a few slick spots, and there were a few moments when visibility was severely limited, but it didn't even begin to compare to the weather we had to drive through in Wyoming and Montana, or even in Arkansas last year after the ice storm. The problem was the other drivers on the road.

People in the south aren't used to the snow. That's why, in our hometown, if there is even a 20% chance of flurries, everyone in town hits the grocery store to stock up on milk and bread. If they get even half an inch, schools are canceled.

So the roads were covered with truckers, trying to drive normal speeds, and southerners, driving 25 miles an hour down the middle of the interstate with their hazards lights on and windshield wipers working furiously (even when there was no precipitation falling). They made it a nightmare, because those of us who weren't too concerned about driving on the (95% clear) roads were either having to follow them at 25 mph, or risk them weaving into us as we tried to pass them.

Even crazier was that those of us trying to drive the speed limit weren't having any problems with the road conditions, while those who were driving 25 mph kept wrecking. Brandon and I saw 11 wrecks (not counting one upside down semi who we think got blown over by the severe wind conditions that had passed through earlier, and two bumpers in the ditch). Some of these wrecks happened right in front of us, and for the life of me, I can't figure out what caused them. These people driving 25 mph just literally drove themselves into the ditch. The roads weren't slick. It wasn't snowing at the time. I would look at Brandon and ask, "Do the roads seem icy to you? Because I'm not really seeing any ice, and it feels like we're driving over clear pavement. . . is there something I'm not seeing?"

Brandon would shake his head. "The road is completely clear."

Thankfully, we were able to avoid these drivers and made it safely to Wisconsin on Monday afternoon.

Now that we're settled back in our apartment, I will pick back up with the crazy ER stories!

(and on a totally random and unrelated note, I just saw a commercial for the "gyro bowl." Have you seen this? I know I'm a sucker for tv ads, but I totally want this. Ralph flips his food bowl every day because he prefers to eat off of the ground. Crazy dog. I wonder if this would work for him. . . )

Crazy ER Stories: Appearances can be Deceiving

2010-12-03T10:06:00.000-08:00

Note: if you aren't familiar with ER lingo, triage is where all patients are initially assessed. The triage nurse uses a system-- usually the ESI-- to determine the order in which patients will be seen. Someone with a gunshot wound will get priority over someone with chapped lips. Makes perfect sense to me, but you wouldn't believe how often the patients with minor complaints will complain when somebody who is in danger of dying gets a room before them.

Brandon was working triage when a couple came in the front door. The woman was in a wheelchair and was clutching her belly. Her husband wheeled her up to the triage station.

"What's going on today?" Brandon asked, noting that the woman appeared to be about eight months pregnant and in severe pain.

"I'm here for an ultrasound."

"Okay. You appear to be hurting pretty bad, can you tell me what you are experiencing?"

The husband jumped in. "She's having these waves of really bad cramps. They are coming about every five minutes."

Brandon's initial thought was the same as mine was when I heard the story-- she's pregnant and went into labor way too early, and she needs to get up to labor and delivery immediately.

But Brandon knows better than to assume anything, so even though he was certain she was pregnant, he asked, "Are you pregnant?"

"Well, that's why I'm here," the lady answered. "The clinic thought I was, but they tested me and it came back negative. That's why they told me to come here for an ultrasound, to find out for sure."

This caught Brandon off guard. He couldn't send someone who wasn't pregnant up to labor and delivery, but he also didn't want her delivering in the ER if the test had been wrong.

He quickly had her give him a "sample" (read: pee in a cup) and sent it to the lab for a rush result (side note: why don't emergency departments keep tests in the ER and skip the lab part? The lab uses the exact same pee sticks that everyone else does, unless they are given a blood sample. Seems like it would save time to just run them in the ER). But he knew it would take them at least fifteen minutes to get the results back to him, and this woman was having what looked like contractions every few minutes.

So he made some calls, and had a L&D nurse down to the ER in minutes. They did an ultrasound and it confirmed what the lab tests said-- the woman was not pregnant.

Meanwhile, there was a small woman with a completely flat stomach waiting to be seen for pain that she believed to be a urinary tract infection. She went to the bathroom and screamed for help. A nurse rushed in to check on her and called out, "Call labor and delivery NOW, she's crowning!"

I think the most important thing you can take away from this story is to never make the mistake of asking, "How far along are you?" no matter how obvious a woman's baby bump seems. I've made the mistake. It's not pretty. And as our story illustrates, you really never can tell.

Crazy ER Stories: Jailbirds

2010-11-27T13:53:00.000-08:00

Brandon worried it might be a bad day when he pulled up to the hospital that morning and the parking lot was already completely packed.

He knew it would be a bad day when he walked in the ER waiting room and was greeted by a man screaming, "I'm just ready to kill them all! Give me a freaking medication list for the pills I'm feeding my snakes! Can't you see my snakes? Are you seriously telling me that you can't see them? They are RIGHT HERE!"**

Brandon and I have both worked in healthcare for years. When your day starts like that, you might as well go home.

But Brandon isn't the kind of guy to retreat in the face of danger (or in this case, mass chaos), so he just took a deep breath, texted me to say a prayer for him, and braced himself for the day to come.

His first patient was brought in by ambulance. The paramedic said, "Hey, man, you should probably call the police before you do anything. When we picked this guy up, he had a big knife and was threatening to kill everyone. We took it away from him, but he might still be armed." (Side note: Here's a crazy idea. Why not call the police at the scene so that they could assess the situation there? That makes more sense to me than taking a possibly armed/homicidal man to an ER full of already tense people.)

So Brandon called the proper authorities and went in to assess the man. "What's going on?"

"Oh, nothin', I'm fine. This was all just a misunderstanding."

"I heard you were waiving a knife around. Is that true?"

"Well, yeah, but I was just kidding. I never would have really hurt anyone. It was just a joke, really." Rightttttt.

"So you weren't trying to kill anyone?"

"No, of course not. I was just trying to scare them a little. Just a game."

"Have you had any thoughts about killing yourself?"

"Well. . . " the man thought for a second, then began screaming hysterically. "Yes! Yes, I want to kill myself."

Thus Brandon's morning began with frisking the man (no weapons, but a few empty knife sheathes), and calling for a psych consult. Cases like that are tough, because you never really know if the person is truly suicidal or is simply making empty threats. A weekend in the hospital psych ward is considered better than a weekend in jail, so people who have some experience with the justice system will often "cry wolf" to try to score a psych hold. If you've ever watched Cops, you may have noticed that people who have just been arrested often make suicidal threats or claim to be having chest pains (which gets them an immediate trip to the ER). Anything to postpone the jail trip. Over the past few years, Brandon has seen hundreds of patients in police custody. The worse their alleged crime, the more "symptoms" they have.

If I can opine for a minute, this is one of my problems with the way our healthcare works. 1. These patients are rarely true emergency cases. Obviously, you need to treat them as such, in case they aren't faking. I'm not suggesting we should ignore their claims. But it is frustrating when non-emergencies (of any kind-- but more on this another day) congest the system and the ER staff cannot give their full attention to the people who really need them. Non-emergencies contribute to the ridiculous ER wait times we're seeing across the country and take up valuable resources. 2. Who do you think is paying for these jail-postponing hospital visits? Any guesses? I'll give you a hint. It's not the person who is benefiting from the service.

I'll get off of my soapbox now. More crazy ER stories to come.

**No idea why the man was screaming about snakes or wanting a medication list for his snakes. That's just an unexplainable snippet of crazy ER behavior that Brandon decided to not get involved in.

Happy Thanksgiving

2010-11-25T10:50:00.000-08:00

You're going to have to wait for the crazy ER stories, because today is Thanksgiving, and I'm feeling nostalgic and ridiculously sentimental. This probably has something to with the fact that this is my very first Thanksgiving alone. Yes, utterly alone. I am, at this very moment, sitting in our corporate apartment in a sweatshirt and leggings, with my hair pulled back in a messy bun, trying to decide if I'm going to eat a bowl of cereal or yogurt for lunch. Meanwhile, my neighbors are all dressed to the nines and throwing holiday parties, staring at me with awkward pity when I take the dogs outside to potty.

I didn't think I would mind Brandon working today. He often works on Thanksgiving, so I am used to it. But what I forgot was that we've always been close enough to home that I've been able to spend Thanksgiving with family. I've always had the traditional turkey dinner and family time. It is the only tradition that has remained stable in my adult life. Sure, there was one year that we didn't make it back home, but Brandon was off work. We still had the traditional meal, and spent the entire day snuggling, playing in the snow, and having deep conversations about everything for which we are thankful.

I really wanted for us to have our own Thanksgiving this year. I very seriously considered cooking the turkey and fixings myself. That lasted about two minutes before I remembered that we are in an apartment furnished for a single travel nurse, who is expected to be eating out most days. One measuring cup (a 1/3 cup, in case you are wondering), one pot, and one pan (which I actually purchased myself) really can't handle an entire Thanksgiving dinner.

So we had our own strange Thanksgiving earlier this week. We went out for Thai food and bought a pumpkin pie. It definitely didn't feel like a normal holiday, but I guarantee that we'll always remember it. Our life will never be normal. Brandon will always have to work holidays. He's an ER nurse. Emergencies happen 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. Holiday traditions will never be normal for us. That just makes it all the more important for us to find a way to celebrate every year, and make memories of the holidays, even if those celebrations are always changing.

With that, here are the ways we've celebrated Thanksgiving during our relationship:

2004: This was a very special Thanksgiving. We had been long time friends, but had only seen each other a couple of times over the past few years. We lived in different states and went to different colleges. That Thanksgiving, we started chatting on an instant messaging program and he asked for my phone number. We talked for four hours straight, and thus began a renewing of our friendship that led to us falling in love. The rest is history, and it all started on Thanksgiving.
2005: We were dating, and Brandon was working as a tech in the ER. He pulled a 12 hour shift and missed out on all the family celebrations, but I made him a plate of leftovers from my family lunch and took it to the ER. We ate together in the break room. He got called away twice to help deal with emergency situations. Not my favorite year.
2006: Our first married Thanksgiving! Brandon actually had the day off of work, and we had an entire week off of school. We stayed at my grandmother's house, celebrated with both of our families, and did Black Friday with my Mom. I'm thankful we had a "normal" holiday as newlyweds.
2007: Brandon had graduated with his BSN and we had moved to the city where our families lived. Brandon had to work again. This time, he didn't even get a dinner break. I still made him a plate, and we ate together at midnight, after he got home from work.
2008: We were in Wisconsin on a travel assignment, but Brandon had the day off, so we went to Cracker Barrel! The Thanksgiving dinner plates were surprisingly close to what we were used to (good Southern food), and there was snow on the ground, and it was a peaceful, romantic day. We took a walk in the snow, talked, watched movies, and drank cocoa.
2009: Brandon was working in St. Louis. He had to work the holiday (overnight), so I stayed home and celebrated with family. I got to talk to him for an hour or so before he went to work that evening. That was a tough Thanksgiving. It was the first year that we didn't get to see each other at all. He really is the other half of my heart (mushy, I know-- told you I was sentimental today), and even though it was great to be with family, it was really hard for him to not be there. The plan was for him to go back to his apartment when he got off work (about 8 am), sleep until about 3, then drive home to spend Friday night with me. But he couldn't wait. He hit Starbucks on his way out of the hospital and drove straight home to surprise me. I was exhausted too (I had stayed up all night to hit the Black Friday sales with my Mom), so I was actually in bed asleep when he arrived. I vaguely remember hugging him and being unbelievably happy to see him after three days apart, but that's it. The next thing I remember is waking up at 9 that night. I think we got some take out and watched a movie, then went back to bed. Still, it's one of my favorite memories.

So far, he's worked every other Thanksgiving, so I have high hopes that trend will continue and we will get to spend Thanksgiving together next year. I promised him that if we are in our new home and can't make it back to AR to celebrate with our families, I will cook the entire meal myself. But if he has to work again, maybe Thai food two days early will be our new normal. We'll see.

No bed bugs for us, and a "Crazy ER Story" teaser.

2010-11-24T11:21:00.000-08:00

For those of you who are wondering, our apartment passed inspection with flying colors and we do NOT have bedbugs. However, the neighbor who shares our bedroom wall DOES. . . which is why I'm shampooing the carpets again today, and I'm washing all of our bedding and spraying Lysol all over our shared walls. I doubt that Lysol actually does anything to bed bugs, but maybe the smell will deter them from sneaking over here. *shudders*

In other news, I'm happy to report that I have a LOT of crazy ER stories coming. The craziest part is that they all happened on the same day. It was the most insane day that Brandon has ever experienced on the job-- you'll have to wait for the stories (which will come in a series of posts because there are so many); but as a teaser, I'll tell you that in one day, they experienced a Code Blue, Code Black twice, a Code Green, a Trauma Alert, and their very own "I didn't know I was pregnant." On top of that, Brandon had to frisk one patient and got kicked in the face by another. So stay tuned-- you won't be disappointed.

A Clarification and a Rant. Sorry.

2010-11-17T20:03:00.000-08:00

First, a clarification... we ARE still planning on settling down soon, sorry for the confusion. We may possibly be pushing that date back a bit (don't we always), but we're definitely not staying on the road forever!

Second, a rant...

I have spent more of my adult life in Wisconsin than I have at "home." I have defended Wisconsin (and Wisconsinites) to everyone who has made fun of them. Sure, occasionally I've mocked the accent, but that's it. I've truly enjoyed my time here.

But this week? Wow. The people of Wisconsin are driving. me. crazy.

It started a week ago when we made the mistake of telling a stranger where Brandon worked. We got to hear an hour long rant (full of every expletive in the book) about a bad experience at the hospital, as well as the entire medical history of every member of his family (including descriptions of colonoscopy procedures and gastrointestinal issues, and complete medication lists and dosages).

Another random stranger overheard that Brandon was a nurse and spent 20 minutes describing to us her recent bowel movement and how scared she was by how it appeared to have been bloody. This person had already been to two doctors and an ER about this... all three had told her it was due to the insane amounts of fruit punch she had been drinking. Yet she still had to share every. single. detail. with us about the way it looked, the way it felt when she wiped... I mean, seriously people!! Brandon and I rarely get to go out for lunch together, we don't want to spend that lunch hearing about your bowel movements.

Another random stranger (what is it with random people telling us personal details lately?) told us all about her problems in the bedroom and how she's just waiting for her husband to die so she can collect the life insurance (in case you're wondering, she thinks he'll only make it another year or so). How do you even respond to that?

Another random stranger told us all about his boyfriend and incredibly intimate details about the relationship, including "games" they play and "parties" they go to. Again, really not interested in hearing about strangers' sex lives!

Another random stranger told me all about her periods, including her exact cycle length, every variation in cycle length that she's experienced in the last year, and the type of discharge she has when she's ovulating. No, we were not having a conversation about periods, ovulation, pregnancy, or anything like that. No, I didn't ask. Yes, people really do start sharing all of this when they hear that my husband is a nurse. No, I'm not making this up. You can't make this stuff up.

Then today, I got a call from our apartment manager. Apparently, someone in our apartment building has possible bed bugs. It has not been confirmed, and I'm hoping it's not true. Like, really, really, really hoping. If you read my Crazy ER Story "Don't Let the Bed Bugs Bite," you know how incredibly grossed out I am by them. That news was bad enough, but I found out that one of our neighbors suggested that the problem had to have started in our apartment, because-- can you guess?-- we have dogs and therefore must have a filthy home. So even though I told the manager that we don't have bed bugs in our apartment, he's still coming tomorrow to inspect. It's so ridiculous that it's funny. I am OCD about cleaning (think Monica, from Friends). I scrub baseboards with an old toothbrush. I wash our sheets every 2-3 days (horrible for the environment, I know, but I cannot sleep if I feel like my sheets are dirty). I lysol and bleach EVERYTHING. After I mop, I go back over the floors on my hands and knees with a rag and a sanitizing solution. I've shampooed the carpets 6 times in the 6 months we've lived here. Sure, I'll let the clean laundry pile up for a week before I put it away, but I am ridiculously obsessive about keeping things sanitized and germ free.

Now I know that despite common misconceptions, bed bugs do not feed off dirt, and are just as likely to be found in a pristine home as a dirty one. But I still find it slightly offensive that he feels the need to come inspect our home for cleanliness. And it's offensive that our neighbors would automatically assume we or our dogs are the problem, when their recent vacation is a much more likely culprit (people often pick up bed bugs when staying in hotels. Gross, I know).

So... overall, it's been a pretty weird week here in Wisconsin. I really do try to connect with people. I want to hear their stories and be a listening ear for them, and show them a little love. But wow, I just don't want to hear any more poop or period or sex stories.. especially when I'm trying to eat lunch. And I don't want for the neighbor's bed bugs to crawl over into our apartment. And I've been itching ever since the manager called. And I'm irritated that someone would blame the problem on us or our dogs, especially when I'm so obsessive about cleanliness.

So forgive my rant. I promise, I'll come back with a better attitude next time. I just really need a vacation. ;)

Do I have a fever?

2010-11-08T21:25:00.000-08:00

'Cause it sure feels like I've got a bad case of the travel bug!

Until yesterday, I was surprisingly content with staying put for awhile. Until yesterday, I was daydreaming about settling down "permanently". Until yesterday, I was thinking about grad school and potential jobs.

So what happened?

It started yesterday morning, when Brandon and I took our dogs on their morning walk and ran into a fellow traveler. She and her family were loading up their car and leaving Wisconsin. Her contract was finished and she had just accepted a new assignment in Seattle, Washington.

Talk about travel envy. Within 30 seconds of hearing the news, I had plotted a driving route that would wind through the best that the West has to offer: Mount Rushmore, the Badlands, Yellowstone National Park, and Glacier National park. I love those parks, and was willing to jump in their car as tour guide for a chance to visit them again. Plus, I've always wanted to visit Seattle... and from there, I could swing down through Oregon and into California to see Redwood National Park (something we missed while we were in Cali)... then hit Yosemite (which we missed due to snow related road closures)... then make my way over to-- well, you get the picture.

To make matters worse, we received our first 2 issues of Backpacker Magazine that afternoon.Oh. My. Goodness. Major travel envy. We spent hours poring over the pictures and articles, discussing the merits of the advertised gear, planning trips, and taking quizzes (in the "lost in the wilderness" scenario quiz, I'm sorry to say that I fell off a cliff and my body was eaten by raccoons, while Brandon managed to make his way back to the trailhead. . . but I totally beat him on the trail etiquette quiz. You should know that on a backpacking trip he will hoard his bourbon and only trade shots for snickers bars, while I will freely pass it around the fire for all).

Yes, we've got it bad.

Only 7 more weeks until this assignment is over... I don't think we'll be renewing this time.

(And on a completely unrelated note, only 4 more weeks until we can tell you our plans for the future!)

Crazy ER Stories: Hypochondriac

2010-10-24T20:38:00.000-07:00

I'm pretty familiar with hypochondriacs. After all, my family is full of them (yes, this means you Brittany. And Charlene. And Sandra. And-- well you get the picture). But this patient makes my family look almost normal.

As soon as Brandon walked into the room, he knew this would be an interesting case. The lady was wearing dark sunglasses and a full length coat with the hood pulled up over her head (side note: my Aunt Charlene, a true hypochondriac, also has a weird thing about coats-- during the flu season, she wears a shiny raincoat everywhere, so that the "germs will slide off."). The lady was stretched out on the bed with her hands folded neatly on her chest, as if she were practicing for her burial.

Brandon introduced himself and asked her why she was there.

"First, I saw a dead bird in the yard. Then I saw a mosquito, and it must have come in my house, but it disappeared down the drain. Then I started coughing, so I know I was bitten and have West Nile."

Yes, because that makes total sense. A mosquito bit a bird, the bird instantly contracted West Nile and died while still in your front yard. The same mosquito then came inside of your house, bit you, and disappeared down the kitchen drain. You coughed, so of course you have West Nile too.

Her ER visit was pretty short. The doctor assured her that she did not have West Nile, gave her some cough medicine, and Brandon discharged her and walked her to the door.

Or so he thought.

About 30 minutes later, the call light in her room came on. He noticed it and thought, "That's strange. Housekeeping must have accidentally hit it when they were changing the sheets."

A few minutes later, another nurse found him. "Your patient in room __ needs another blanket and some more cough medicine."

"That room is empty, I discharged her over half an hour ago and walked her out myself."

"What? I just talked to her."

Brandon dropped what he was doing and went back to the room. The lady had somehow gotten back in, past reception and the nurses' station, and was again stretched out on the bed in her sunglasses and coat.

Brandon again reassured her that she did not have West Nile, that she didn't need to be seen again, and that she was going to be just fine. Still, she preferred to stay in the hospital for awhile.

After a few minutes, she decided she was ready to get out of the ER. She went to the front desk and asked how to get to the parking garage.

"The parking garage is all the way on the other side of campus. Is that where you parked? I can have security give you a ride over there."

"No. One of my friends drove me. She's out in the waiting room. My driver's license got taken away. Life's a b****."

"Um, okay," the nurse replied. "Well if your ride is out in the waiting room, why do you need to go to the parking garage?"

"Because I just feel like taking a walk through the garage!" the lady answered, obviously irritated. I mean, who doesn't have the occasional need to walk through a parking garage? The concrete floors, the oil stains, the thick cloud of exhaust-- it truly is the highlight of every hospital.

"Well, okay, the parking garage is that way. You walk down that hall, then turn--"

"I can't see where you're pointing!"

"That's because the hood of your coat is covering your eyes."

"AGH! LIFE IS SUCH A B****!" The woman pulled back her hood, saw where the nurse was pointing, and walked off.

You can't make this stuff up!

Crazy ER Stories: A few short stories

2010-10-23T10:43:00.000-07:00

Hello all, this is Brandon. Courtney has been a little busy the past few weeks, so I thought I'd share a few smaller, light hearted stories with all of you. Courtney has told me she will post a new story soon.

Story 1:Sore throat + Midol = WHAT?
Not to long ago I took care of a young teenage boy with minor ailments. While I was checking him in he told me about having a sore throat for several days. When I asked him if he had taken anything at home to help relieve the pain he stated simply - Midol. Caught off guard by such an interesting choice of medicine to take for a sore throat, I asked again. "What have you been taking?" This time I was 100% committed to the conversation, thinking I might have dazed out for a minute the last time and misunderstood what he said. But I wasn't mistaken, the answer came clear and calm "Midol."

I just couldn't leave this one alone. I had to figure out why a teenage boy would take Midol for a sore throat. Most boys, and men alike, wouldn't be caught dead holding a Midol bottle, much less admit to taking some of it. Not to mention I just had to know if he had any amazing side effects: less moody, lost a few excess pounds, grew man boobs, etc.

So I asked simply, "How'd that work out for you?" The teen remained calm and collected and stated, "it took my sore throat away for a little bit." Not to surprised with his answer I went in for the big one and asked, "why in the world did you take Midol?" His answer, "My mom gave it to me."

Satisfied to have my answers, I suggested a few other pain relief medications for him: Tylenol or Motrin. This way he wouldn't have have to admit to others he was taking Midol. In the end another satisfied customer and another great story!

Story 2: Bow Chicha Wow Wow!
We often have prisoners and police suspects come through the ER for a variety of tests, exams and treatments. It's just part of the ER job. Often there's not much to these cases, but every now and then we see a good one.

This particular case involved a well intoxicated gentlemen who had been pulled over for suspected DUI. He either had failed his field sobriety test miserably and now the police needed a blood alcohol test for court, or had refused the field sobriety test, still requiring a BAT. Either way he needed his blood drawn and was sent to the ER to get it done.

On arrival to the ER, he was escorted in in handcuffs by a police officer. As he entered, still barley able to stand on his own two feet due to his drunken stupor, he passed one of the young female registration clerks. Without a second thought in his mind, he ripped free of his police escort and ran up to the clerk, thrusting his pelvic region forward at her and announced for the whole ER to hear "BOW CHICHA WOW WOW!"

The registration clerk was able to keep her composure, looked square him in the eyes and simply said "I don't think so." Just as the police officer grabbed him by the neck and pulled him back into submission.

You have to love it when patients are so drunk the come into the ER with their own theme music and thinking they are "all that". He even found time to make advances towards the registration clerk. Unfortunately this guy was so sauced, he wouldn't remember any of it when he woke up the next day in the drunk tank.

Stuck in Limbo

2010-10-09T09:07:00.000-07:00

We haven't quite fallen off the face of the planet, but we have been in Arkansas, which is kind of close. ;)

Since I last updated, Brandon finished his second contract with this hospital. We ended his contract on a Tuesday (so he could work Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday-- thus fulfilling his time requirements) and began his next contract on a Thursday, so that we had some time off without actually missing any work hours. It would have been really nice to actually take a week off on top of that, because the last time I can remember Brandon taking a week off was 1.5 years ago! But if we had missed a week's work requirements, not only would we have lost pay, our company would have required us to pay the rent for our apartment.

I know I've mentioned it before, but that is one of the sacrifices with travel nursing-- you don't get paid time off. I think it would be a great idea for travel nursing companies to start offering incentives for nurses to stick with them-- like PTO! A couple weeks of PTO a year, and we certainly would be more interested in continuing with a travel career.

Speaking of that. . . we will be announcing our future plans very, very soon. Final decisions are being made right now. I'm sorry for all the secrecy and suspense, but we don't want to say anything until it's OFFICIAL.

So that's where we are! Brandon is starting his 3rd contract with this hospital, and we will be here for a few more weeks. We enjoyed having some time at home. We are still waiting for a definite answer on what's next for us. In other words, not much has changed!

Even Wisconsin feels oddly stuck in limbo right now. Right before we left for Arkansas, Wisconsin was turning decidedly cold-- so much so that we actually canceled a camping trip we had planned. We thought we would grab our backpacking tent while we were in Arkansas, and camp a few times in Wisconsin before winter hit. But we decided there was no pointing in bringing our supplies up here, because winter was too close! Now that we are back, it's 80 degrees again. The leaves have stopped changing, the fall air is gone. It still looks like fall, as most of the leaves are yellow... but the air feels like summer!

It's very strange, but fitting for our lives right now. We know that major changes are just around the corner, but this Wisconsin stage of our lives seems determined to hang around for as long as possible.

Crazy ER Stories: Room Service

2010-09-20T20:13:00.000-07:00

Just when I think I've heard it all. . .

This past week in the ER, one of Brandon's patients pressed the nurse call button. Brandon answered, and then man asked (seriously), "Who is responsible for food orders?"

"What do you mean?" Brandon replied. "We have juice and crackers, do you want me to check with your doctor and see if you can have something?"

"No, no, not that. Here's my list," the man handed him a note. "I want a 3 piece from Popeye's Chicken with the mashed potatoes and a biscuit, fries and a large strawberry milkshake from McDonald's, two chalupas and an order of cinnamon twists from Taco Bell, with a large Diet Coke to drink. Can you get that to whoever is responsible for picking up food for the patients?"

(Side note: Diet Coke? Really? I'm just saying.)

Brandon, who never ceases to amaze me, kept his cool. "First, there is nobody in this ER who is going to leave the department to go on a food run for you. That's not what we're paid to do. Second, you can't have anything until I check with the doctor. If he says it's okay, I will be more than happy to bring you your choice of juice and crackers. Finally, you're here for heartburn. You might want to reconsider the things you're putting in your stomach."

People, it's called an EMERGENCY DEPARTMENT for a reason.

The MREs have arrived. Great.

2010-09-14T21:54:00.000-07:00

The MREs arrived today. Thankfully, Brandon was at work, so I haven't had to taste them yet. They look less than appetizing.

I found out that they are NOT for a backpacking trip like I was hoping. We are planning a trip to Africa next year, and will need to take most of our food with us, and Brandon ordered these to see if MREs would be practical for the trip.

So far, I'm thinking that I will stick with a loaf of bread and a jar of peanut butter.

Don't worry-- you will get a full report (with pictures) when we eat the MREs. I'll be brave and taste them so that you don't have to. I think the technical term for that is "experiential journalism," but don't let that fool you-- I can already tell that this isn't going to be an "experience", this is going to be a sacrifice of epic proportions. Seriously, preserved liquid eggs and cottage cheese designed to last 14 years? I am actually going to suffer through eating that so that you can know what an MRE is like without having to taste one yourself?

Yes. But only because I've been on an A.J. Jacobs kick recently, and if he can do crazy things like follow every single rule in the Old Testament (including stoning adulterers and refusing to touch or even sit on the same furniture as his wife one week out of each month), and then write about those things for my enjoyment; then I can force myself to at least taste the Meals Rejected by the Enemy and write about it for yours.

***If you are interested in the A.J. Jacobs book, it's called "The Year of Living Biblically," and it is a wonderful read. I also just finished his "My Life as an Experiment" (where he does crazy things like live as George Washington and outsource his personal life to India) and just started "The Know-it-All" (where he reads the Encyclopedia Britannica from a-z).

Apple Pie. . . but no apples.

2010-09-12T21:39:00.000-07:00

The beautiful fall weather we've been having inspired us to head out to an apple orchard for some apple picking. Our experience 2 years ago was idyllic-- we found a beautiful Norwegian farm in the middle of nowhere, that let us pick apples for $1.20 a pound. They barely spoke English, but were incredibly welcoming, and we had the entire orchard to ourselves for most of the day. They welcomed us to sample all the types of apples and invited us to enjoy a warm cup of apple cider on their porch after our labor. It was peaceful and romantic, and quickly became one of our favorite traveling memories.

So, with high expectations of repeating our romantic date, we headed out to Apple Holler. As you can see, it was not an idyllic farm in the middle of nowhere. It was a tourist trap, right off the interstate, with a full parking lot and thick crowds fighting for picture opportunities.

Plus, the minimum charge for apple picking was $39.95. Seriously.

We skipped the apple picking.

We did, however, enjoy a quick dessert from their restaurant/bakery. Brandon chose an apple turnover with fresh apple cider, and I selected a slice of Dutch Apple Pie. The desserts were delicious, I will give them that. The apple pie was without a doubt the best slice of pie I have ever had.

But the next time we get the urge to go apple picking, we're going to try to find another sweet country farm. No more crowded tourist traps for me, please.

Pictures from Lake Michigan

2010-09-05T14:13:00.000-07:00

Ralph LOVES Lake Michigan. He stands there waiting for the waves to hit him. He needs a mini surfboard!

He is so happy to play in the water!

Fiona likes the lake. . . as long as she stays dry.

She would rather snuggle with me and pose for pictures than play in the cold water!


But she'll venture close as long as Dad is there to keep her safe.

Fall, Pumpkins, and. . . MREs??

2010-09-03T20:02:00.000-07:00

I am officially declaring it "Fall" in Wisconsin.

I woke up this morning, left my sweet hubby sleeping in bed, threw on some jeans and headed out the door to walk the dogs. I was shocked to find that it was COLD outside! It got down into the 40's last night, and the cool, crisp air has lingered all day. The leaves have started to turn, and the pumpkins are ripe for harvest!

Longtime readers may remember that we spent the Fall of 2008 in Madison, Wisconsin. We went apple picking, floundered through our first corn maze, and spent many hours watching the sun set over the deliciously orange trees across from our apartment. In Arkansas, Fall never seemed to last more than a few days. In Wisconsin, it stretches on for weeks, and we love every minute of it.

But I have to admit, I'm a little surprised by how Brandon is ringing in the season. He's not making plans for apple picking. He's not searching for a nearby farm that does hayrides and bonfires. He's not buying apple cider and hot cocoa.

No, he just ordered us each an MRE.

For those of you unfamiliar with military lingo, MRE stands for "meal: ready to eat." It's an individual ration of food utilized by the military in combat situations or field exercises where fresh food is not available.

Just to give you an idea of what people tend to think of MREs, here are some of the nicknames I've heard:

Meals Rarely Edible
Mr. E (mystery)
Meals Rejected by the Enemy
Massive Rectal Expulsions

So why did he just ordered us each one? I can only hope this means he's planning a backpacking trip through the fall foliage. We'll see.

Extension #2

2010-09-01T11:37:00.000-07:00

It's only been a week, but it feels like a month!

August was crazy. We've been in Wisconsin, Minnesota, Texas, Georgia, Illinois, and Missouri. Crazy. Crazy. Crazy.

Thankfully, my September calendar is much more empty.

Brandon had a super important job interview last week. We probably won't know anything for sure until November, but we expect that things are going to go in our favor.

For now, we've extended our Wisconsin contract. If everything goes according to plan, Brandon will start his new job the beginning of next year. So we're going to hang out here in Wisconsin for awhile longer. Our extension will make this the longest we've ever spent in one place! I guess that just shows the change in our priorities. . . and how much we love Wisconsin.

Fall is definitely on its way

2010-08-25T20:08:00.000-07:00

The temperature here is dropping down to 55 degrees tonight-- one of the many reasons I love Wisconsin. I LOVE fall. It is my favorite season by far, and these cooler temperatures assure me that crisp leaves, apple cider, hayrides, and bonfires are just around the corner.

My favorite fall activity is camping. I love the smell of the woods during fall. I love nights where it's chilly enough that you need to snuggle under a blanket by the campfire. I love waking up toasty warm in my sleeping bag, even though I can see my breath. I love hiking through the fall foliage and feeling the leaves crunch underneath my boots. Camping is always fun, but camping in the fall is almost magical.

Brandon and I have an entire closet full of camping/backpacking gear (he is an Eagle Scout, after all), but we haven't been able to use it while we've been traveling. We simply don't have room for it in the car. It's one of the small sacrifices we've made for travel nursing.

Now that we are nearing the end of this (and yes, the end is very near! we will soon be announcing our plans for settling down), we are daydreaming about all the things we're going to do that have had to wait while we've been on the road. Camping is number 1 on the list.

I can't wait!

It All Makes Sense Now: Follow Up to Previous Post

2010-08-23T21:25:00.001-07:00

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bubbler

Only in Wisconsin

2010-08-23T19:16:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, in the ER, a lady came up to Brandon with a strange request.

"Excuse me," she said, "My son would like a bubbler."

"What?" Brandon asked.

"He's looking for a bubbler."

"Um. . . we don't have any of those," he replied, walking off.

His first thought was, "Seriously? They are in the ER and are asking for a bubble blower?" It always amazes us how people think that a trip to the ER should be somewhere on par with a trip to the Holiday Inn. Take, for example, the woman who a few weeks ago tried to order cheeseburgers, fries, and milkshakes for her entire family (requesting that it be billed to her insurance, no less). Or the patients who have asked Brandon to have a nicer bed brought in for them. Or the patients who demand a "private room with a personal bathroom." Or the patients who request fluffy bathrooms. Or the patients who-- well, you get the idea.

But, as it turned out, this lady wasn't asking for a toy for her child-- in Wisconsin, "bubbler" means "water fountain." Her son simply wanted a drink of water.

Who would have thought?

but when the Starbucks is bad. . .

2010-08-17T16:25:00.000-07:00

I told you that after getting some wonderful Starbucks, I joked with Brandon that, "When the Starbucks is good, the day is great. But when the Starbucks is bad, you might as well go back to bed." The day of good Starbucks went smoothly. Our flights were on time, and everything was fine (except bumpy landings).

But on our way back to Wisconsin, the Starbucks was bad. . .

There are two things you should know.

1. Brandon and I are total coffee snobs. I worked for a very long time as a barista. I was trained by a barista champion. I know my coffee. I know my steamed milk-- which is actually even more important to me than the espresso. If I'm paying $4 for a drink, I want it to be right.

2. Starbucks is great when it's good. But unfortunately, it's ridiculously inconsistent. I don't know how they do their training, but some of their employees truly do not know anything about the drinks on their menu. Note to Starbucks: PLEASE work on this.

Back to our day:

We decided to eat breakfast at the airport, which we realized was a bad decision as most of the restaurants were closed when we arrived. But of course, there was Starbucks.

So we got up to the counter, and I ordered a cappuccino. The lady looked at me and said, "A cappuccino? What's that?" I'm dead serious. I just looked at her. She then said, "Is that on the hot menu or the cold menu?" I should have canceled the order right then, but I noticed that another girl was making the drinks. . . so I went ahead with it.

But the lady who didn't know what a cappuccino was did in fact make my "cappuccino" as well as Brandon's latte. The drinks were terrible.

So what else went wrong? Well. . .

Next was breakfast at an airport cafe-- a breakfast that made us both sick.

Then we got bumped off our flight, and put on a flight to Atlanta.

The flight to Atlanta was 45 minutes late.

We got stuck on the tarmac in Atlanta, and by the time we got off the plane, we only had 7 minutes to get to our next flight-- which was in a different concourse (this also meant that we didn't get to eat lunch, and were both starving).

We were late to the second flight, but thankfully they hadn't close the door and let us on-- we just had to deal with the dirty looks from all the other passengers.

That flight got delayed, and we ended up sitting on the tarmac for nearly an hour.

We arrived safely in Milwaukee and ran to the food court to eat. All the restaurants were closing.

We bought some premade sandwiches and sat down to eat. Brandon spilled his glass of water, right after the custodian had mopped. The custodian yelled at us, I cleaned up the water, Brandon got a new glass. . . and accidentally knocked over both of our glasses. Again.

At this point, we cleaned up the mess, swallowed a few bites of our sandwiches, drove home, and went to bed. Like I said. . . if the Starbucks is bad, you might as well just go back to bed. It's going to be a rough day.

When the Starbucks is good. . .

2010-08-16T08:45:00.000-07:00

This past week, Brandon and I had to make a quick trip to Texas for a meeting. We flew to Texas one day, had the meeting (alllllll day) the next day, and flew back to Wisconsin the next morning.

That first morning was tough. We had to get up about 5 hours earlier than normal (and we are both people that really NEED our sleep), drive to Milwaukee, drop the dogs off at "Scout Camp" (more on this later), then drive to the airport.

On our way to Milwaukee, we stopped at Starbucks for breakfast. That's a tradition for us. We would much rather eat their oatmeal than a greasy breakfast sandwich from somewhere else. Plus, sipping a warm latte (or caramel macchiato in my case) makes traveling feel almost luxurious, instead of something we have to do for a living.

The Starbucks was perfect that morning-- the milk was steamed perfectly, the espresso had a great flavor, and the oatmeal was made exactly the way we like it.

As we quickly ate our breakfast, I joked with Brandon that "when the Starbucks is good, the day goes smoothly; but when the Starbucks is bad, you might as well go back to bed."

I had no idea how right I was. . .

(To be continued)

Crazy ER Stories: Delusions? Or a good ol'fashioned haunting?

2010-08-10T07:56:00.000-07:00

One of Brandon's recent patients was quite interesting. She didn't really feel the need to be at the ER-- her daughter brought her in. The problem?

The woman kept seeing two small children in her house.

She had no other symptoms. She only saw them in her house-- never anywhere else. She didn't seem to have any paranoia, delusions, or hallucinations. She was in great health, and was not taking any medications. She said they never spoke to her or communicated in any way-- in fact, they usually ran out of the room if she walked in. According to her, they were simply two children she had never met who kept showing up in her house.

Of course, there are a lot of possible explanations for something like this. Here are a few possibilities:

High EMF (electromagnetic frequency) levels in the house. If she is sensitive to EMF, it can cause hallucinations-- which would explain why they only happen in her house.
High levels of carbon monoxide in the house (though not an issue in this particular case).
According to an experienced hospice nurse, patients often begin seeing loved ones that died before them in their last days (though again, not an issue here as she was in great health and claimed not to know these children).
Attention seeking behavior (again, not suspected here at all).
Changes in medication (not applicable here).

Well, obviously, Brandon couldn't go over to her house to check the EMF levels. I'm sure he would have if he was a character on House, but that's not how things work in the real world.

So for now, it's a mystery-- and a creepy story.

Life on the Road-- Will I ever get a decent haircut?

2010-08-04T21:25:00.000-07:00

There are certain things that we try to time correctly for visits back home-- my haircuts, vet visits, doctor's appointments, etc. In a travel life that is always changing, it's nice to have some consistency and normalcy in things like that.

But it doesn't always work out that way, and we found ourselves having to do three of those things this very week:

Haircut for me (it had been months, there was no way I could put it off any longer).
Vet visit for Ralph (I had been delaying it, because he was only a month late on one vaccine that is only really important for boarding-- but of course, we have a situation coming up next month where we need to board).
TB skin test for Brandon (required yearly).

Two out of three of these went rather poorly.

First up was my haircut. I seriously hate having someone new cut my hair. I do my research, read online reviews, and still always pick someone who has absolutely no idea how to deal with my hair. This time was even worse than normal. She pulled my hair so hard during the shampoo that I bit a hole in my bottom lip. She only spent about 5 minutes cutting my hair, and refused to blow completely dry (even though I paid for a dry/style). The haircut? Well, it's less than flattering, but she assured me that it would "grow out in about 6 months". Wonderful.

The vet visit for Ralph was a happy surprise. We took him to a small clinic with one young veterinarian. She was incredibly sweet and attentive, the exam room was huge, the waiting room was peaceful, the wait was way shorter than our vet back home, and the price was much lower than we expected. The experience was so good that we will probably look into finding a new "regular" vet-- who knew that vet visits could actually be short and pleasant instead of long and stressful?

The TB skin test-- that is something we dread every year. It's so much more pleasant when we can do it back home. On the road, we usually get sent to a national healthcare chain that provides TB tests, drug screenings, and other services to employers. This particular location was probably the best one we've been to, but it was still such an experience that Brandon plans on writing about it in a blog post entitled "Crazy Stories from Outside the ER." I'll leave the story to him, since he wants to tell it.

It's one of those things you don't really think about until you start traveling, but having consistent service providers is definitely one of the blessings of being "settled." I am seriously looking forward to developing a long term relationship with a great hairstylist.

Extreme Traveling Family

2010-08-02T11:07:00.000-07:00

I came across this article today about a family who liquidated all of their assets, bought a boat, and spent the last 83 months (that's nearly 7 years!) sailing around the world. Their story is amazing, and I can't wait to read their book! I love their mindset-- family is so much more important than financial gain.

Life

2010-07-24T11:50:00.000-07:00

Again, I apologize for the lack of recent posts. Here's the thing:

life is crazy right now.

Which means that it's also time for one of my more personal posts-- some self disclosure, some introspection-- scary stuff, right?

I mentioned a few posts ago that Brandon and I are hoping to grow our family soon. What I left out is that the way we are doing this is through adoption. We are just beginning the adoption process, and it is already overtaking our lives! I can't believe I ever complained about travel nursing paperwork-- adoption paperwork is going to be a thousand times worse.

I realize the timing probably seems odd. After all, we are still traveling. So let me answer the inevitable question-- no, we are not planning on traveling with a baby. =)

Let's be honest. Brandon and I are near the end of our travel nursing career. We've been doing this for over two years, and while it has been wonderful, we are more than ready to settle down into a more stable life. We've felt that way for awhile, but we've had good reason for delaying the switch. Wisconsin probably will not be our last assignment-- we expect to do 1 more after this-- but our goal is to be settled down by January.

Since the adoption process can take awhile, we are starting now. There are some things that will need to wait until we are settled (the homestudy) but there are plenty of things we can do in the meantime (orientation, training, fundraising, paperwork, physicals, background checks, references, etc.).

As far as our plans for settling down, I'm not quite ready to discuss those. =) I'm just excited about the "settled" part. I'm looking forward to decorating a house, cooking with my own cookware, sleeping in our own bed, and hopefully having a yard for the kids and the puppies.

But anyway, that's why things are a bit slow on the blog right now. Life is crazy, exciting, wonderful-- and busy. =)