VERY emotional today

....almost feels like I'm a girl.

:)

So, it was my birthday yesterday...facebook is good like that...reminds every random person to tell you "happy birthday." It was awesome. People OUT of the woodwork!

and somehow I focus on those I didn't hear from....not in some ridiculous way...just missed....

like my dad. Not that I expected a call from the beyond...but I crave a kiss on the forehead....and just always think of my parents...and "what they were doing..."

CRAZY....

my mom...."facebooked" me.... another "welcome to my world" does that count? It should...because that woman loves me...I mean REALLY LOVES ME...faults and all...and her "welcome to my world" comment was the very first words I spoke to my own children.... I wonder if she knows that?

like my brothers and sister....I got a "happy birthday" email from Rick...but NOTHING from Kelly or Johnny....leaves me wondering if I am too old for that? Kerry emailed, texted AND came out with me after work. :)

I worked yesterday -- and they knew that....and Justin sent me a wonderful fruit bouquet.... we all devoured. We went out last night....and drank like I was 21. OUCH

I love my friends and family -- and feel a little fragile today.

I sent a another patient to hospice yesterday. His family was just like mine. Large.,...annoying...demanding.....lost. :) I looked in his eyes and LOVED THIS MAN.....(I've only been his nurse for two days!) He had a major stroke which left him completely aphasic (he couldn't talk) and right side deficit....but don't FOR ONE SECOND think that man didn't know what was going on OR that his LEFT hand wouldn't tell you! He was a truck driver by trade, I came to find out. A father of 5 (and maybe 2 others, LOL, his son told me).... A brutal, hard, difficult man (I was told).... Just recently with a major bipass and endarectomy...and threw a fucking clot and was found unresponsive at the rehab unit....yet when the family left the room to arrange hospice details, he tried to haul his body OUT of the bed after them...and I held his strong hand....telling him everything that was happening...

"I know you are frustrated....probably scared."
"you are in the hospital...you had a major stroke."
"Your family is amazing...a true testament to you as a man."
"Be proud of them. Be okay that your wife is OK..you made it be so..."
"I know you understand me, I know you hate this. I know."

....and he cried.

....and I cried.

And, I cry yet today....right now....thinking of this beautiful family struggling right NOW. Watching the man that led thefamily (at least financially..come on...we all know the woman does everything...LOL)...die. Watching the man that loved their Mom...and made it be that HE DID EVERYTHING FOR HER.... die. Watching them be scared....all of them in different stages...some of them wanting more, some of them wanting it over.....And I think of my own dad's death....and my insignificant wondering if anyone cared... PLEASE don't hate them for wanting "it over".....it....is...the MOST difficult thing....EVER....being honored enough to watch them die...

I hugged each of them...and felt the weight of their saddess with every fiber in my body...each....one....

truth is....

...life goes on....

and I remember vividly walking into the elevator after my dad died....a little relieved and guilty to be so...."and now there were 6" from my mom...and every single sound as I got into my car....next to the throw up from mere hours previous... I actually got LOST driving back to my parents house...in a town I've lived in ALL MY LIFE. (side note....I feel sick to my stomach remembering.)

Oh Dad....please welcome him....Russ....I called him "Russ"

and please bless his family....

...and somehow let people know...like you just did....that is DOES matter....to even the insignificant.....

...as I sit here...his nurse...that sealed his fate, made him DNR...and sent him to hospice....

I did celebrate my birthday last night -- 37 years old. He smiled when I told him it was my birthday (half a smile...got a point on the NIH scale for that)....he squeezed my hand tight...I know he wished me a "happy birthday"...I know.

I sit here in tears....

...wondering if this is the right profession for me...

....I sit here in tears....

...thinking of Russ.

Sick obsession or something....

I have a slight fascination with death -- I can't lie. My family and good friends all just know that it's part of me. I don't really know when it started...or, for that matter, why. I think it probably jumped a few notches when my friend, Aaron died when we were in high school. Simply knowing that I was suppose to be there with him and that I was one of the last people to talk to him has forever changed my thinking of "coincidence" and "timing." His death absolutely changed me.

When myspace was the rage, I found mydeathspace.com -- which was a running total of dead myspacers -- then they added myspacers that murdered on this uber cool map of the world. Black means dead myspacer (it links you to their page) and red meant murderer myspacer (also a link.) I was beside myself....and spent hours on that damn site. Intrigued. My friend, Angela, and I made a pact that if we died we would submit each other (sealed with a kiss of account login and password details.) Now facebook has taken over -- but no one has created a death face book... perhaps that will be my ticket to the money tree. facesofdeathbook.com (I gotta search if that domain is available.)

I read the obituaries every day, too...not for any particular reason...just cause I'm alive to read them, I suppose. It use to be that I looked for people I knew (or grandparents of those people)...or for those close to my age. I even came up with a game in which I would get an extra point for an article in the newspaper regarding a death -- and an obit on that person -- in the same paper, same day. That would get me 2 points. 2 points to what? no clue! But it was a bonus point, never the less. Since I've become a nurse, and my population has a higher likelihood of dying, I look for names I know. And, it happens. (and I get an extra point.) I had a journal entry somewhere years ago where I wrote my obituary and it was amazingly crazy. It prioritizes your life. If I die today, I hope it will say: (off the cuff...)

Kristen's life and love revolved around her children, Dane and Cole. They are
her dream come true and the song in her heart. Every day she loved them and told
them....everyday...over and over and over again. There is NOTHING these boys
can't do -- and she told them that, everyday.
Kristen's life was blessed with the love of two men: The father of her children (Joel Nusbaum) and the owner of her heart, her husband, her best friend, her partner in crime, the person that made her laugh and loved her the most, Justin Essary.
Kristen loved her family incredibly and was proud of the Beiriger and Kealy blood that pumped through her body (She was a stubborn German with blubbering Irish eyes, crying mostly during the great times.)
Kristen 's loyalty and pride lied with her family (Dad, Mom, Johnny, Erin,
Rick, Cliff, Kelly, Thomas, Kerry, Travis, Keegan, and Connor) and she embraced
her "other family" which included in-laws, old and new friends and coworkers.
Kristen loved hard and fast, was fun and forgiving, silly and sarcastic
(perhaps sadistic - ha!), passionate and public, honest and ornery, but most of
all...she knew who she was.
A wife. A mother. A daughter. A sister. An Aunt.
A godmother. A cousin. A friend. A nurse. A survivor. A compassionate soul.
She hopes that she is kicking back with her dad, aunt, uncle, Aaron, and the
other's that have passed (and maybe conceding to her dad and having a Schlitz)
and watching the movies of YOUR life unfold...
Until you meet her again...
Be kind to each other.
We all just want to be happy.

"Some of it's magic

and some of it's tragic,

but I had a good life

all the way." (Kristen Kealy, via Jimmy Buffett)

(something like that...)

I was honored to write my father's obit...I was proud of it -- but made a cardinal obit. sin of omitting how he died...I guess I was wrapped up in my dad...I figured EVERYONE KNEW he died of cancer. (you might want to add that I'm conceded and egotistical in my obit...when I die. Seriously. LOL) But be sure you add how I did in there somewhere.

Anyway -- I just spent the last few hours reading about those on death row in Arizona. There is an execution set to take place on 2.29.2012. I will be a year older and this man will die. Irony. But on this site...it tells you what they did...what their court history was...mitigating circumstances...and death date. If you search farther...you can find those that have died...and for some reason and big part of all the documentation is what their last meal was...

Why these brutal murderers care about food is beyond me -- or why we give them it, baffles me too... (I'm guessing it's some sort of governmental scam to try to act like we care...but never the less...) Seriously caught myself LAUGHING at last meal requests....

here is what I would request:
medium rare fillet
baked potato -- sour cream and chives
crab legs with a lot of butter and lemon juice...
cheese and crackers
jar of pickles
sauerkraut
cheese pizza (yes I'm serious, you can ask for all this)
cheesecake
apple pie with vanilla ice cream
and a keg of Coors Light...(OK, I'm guessing you can't get alcohol...right?) but if that's the case... a gallon of milk (slightly frozen) and a case of Coke.

Some jackoff murderer asked for Diet Pepsi -- what?!

You don't believe me do you....check it out for yourself: http://www.azcorrections.gov/inmate_datasearch/Minh_NewDeathRow.aspx

If I'm ever on death row (I won't be, relax...) It won't be "dead man walking..." It will be like,

"DEAD BITCH ROLLING!"

I have been so busy....I hate busy.

...yet I live it -- day in and day out.

Work, school, papers, deadlines, a wife, a mom, 2 busy kids, soccer x2, honor band, running club, Sister Moses play, fieldtrips, homework, playdates, heartbreaks, homework, friendships, drama, disappointment, thrills, laughter, concerts, dates, golf tournaments, jacuzzis, schenanigans, bikerides, weeds, poop patrol, dinner, dishes, laundry, taxi driver, maid, monster, reader, writer, singer, biter (lol)

...and it goes on.

I like to live a full life, but I want stillness too.

This morning I was talking on the phone to my sister, making breakfast for the chitlins and trying to figure out the day. School and a trip to Walmart to get Cole's sport goggles. I'll get Dane from parent pickup and take him to honor band practice. My sister will get Cole and take him to the running club race (remember to pack shorts and energy bar). I will meet them at the park. Then I will take Cole and my nephews, pick up Dane. We will rush home and get Cole ready for soccer, to which we will then go to. Nephews will get picked up from there. Rush home. Dinner. Bedtime. Cole will just have to miss an "eye patch day" we simply are running out of time. Then I realize we must HURRY because the bus leaves to take Cole to his two daytime showtimes of Sister Moses. I yell to Dane...and we all hustle and bustle, leaving the house...late.

I'm a block from school -- and we're running over the schedule. And, I see a woman -- I'd say 70s -- in a bathrobe...laying on her driveway.

And we stop.

Turns out she fell trying to get the paper.

Cars, buses, vans passing her by -- kids and their parents walking, biking and cruising by.

And we stop.

She tells me her right knee is a replaced and "the damn left one just went out." I offer to call the ambulance - she refuses. I look her over and ask her if she has a walker, a chair, or anything to help get her up. She tells me to open the door and scream for her hard of hearing husband.

"AL!!!! AL!!!!" a few minutes goes by and he stumbles out of his room, terrified to find a disheveled and pajama clad women screaming his name (might be someone's fantasy, but not Al's.) He scurries to dress and hustles outside.

In a hurry.

I've gotten the woman a blanket (she's cold, on the driveway -- she told me for at least 15 minutes). I've assessed her and she is fine, just embarrassed.

Al and I get her up slowly and walk her inside to sit down. I look her over again...She's okay. She promises she will use her walker.

With tears in his eyes he blesses me and calls me their angel.

With tears in her eyes she tells me, "I'm grateful the Lord made you stop. And that you listened."

After we're in the car and on our way.

Cole is inquisitively looking outside the window with his mouth wide open and says, "It's okay if I'm late and miss the bus, I'm glad we stopped."

Dane has a sweet and proud smile and says, "Mom, thank you for stopping."

Moral of the story:
S T O P.

(edited to add: he made the bus)