Monthly Archives: April 2013

Have Typewriter…Will Confuse

Church Bulletin Bloopers pic

CHURCH LADIES WITH TYPEWRITERS

They’re Back! Those wonderful Church Bulletins! Thank God for
church ladies with typewriters. These sentences actually appeared in church bulletins or were announced in church services:

The Fasting & Prayer Conference includes meals.
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The sermon this morning: ‘Jesus Walks on the Water.’  The sermon tonight: ‘Searching for Jesus.’

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Ladies, don’t forget the rummage sale. It’s a chance to get rid of those things not worth keeping around the house. Bring your husbands.
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Have You Ever Had To Make Up Your Mind? And Say Yes To One And Leave The Other Behind?

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Well, it’s done… We’ve just finalized the decision of where to send our daughter, Mary Kate, to college and I can’t help but think of the line from Who Wants To Be A Millionaire, “Is that your final answer?” complete with ominous music playing. The process of choosing a college can be overwhelming, but I have to admit, this time it was absolutely grueling. And, what really kills me is that, upon hearing where she will be enrolling in the fall, I know almost everyone will respond with, “Well, that was a no-brainer. Of course that’s where she’s going.”  They’ll say this because it’s the same school that all three of our sons attended, as well. Yes, that’s right. The original list included becoming: a Huskie, a Leatherneck (I kind of like that one), a Redbird, an Illini and a Hawkeye. And…drum roll please…the final answer?…more drum roll… come this fall, she will officially become a  University of Iowa  Hawkeye. But, the decision was in NO WAY an easy one. Did you notice the capital letters? I hope so because I really meant them. In fact, Mary Kate said she was thinking that maybe she could be the different one in the family and make her own way at a different school. We assured her all along that she should not feel like she HAS to go to, what has become, quite unintentionally, the school of choice for our family. She could do her own thing. But, after an exceedingly agonizing deliberation, she settled on joining the percussion studio at Iowa. With her brother. Continue reading

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What Society Thinks I Do…

I absolutely love the memes depicting “What Society Thinks I Do.” Perhaps you’ve run across some of them. There seems to be one for just about every activity/profession and they are pretty funny. So, I thought I’d compile the ones that fit my family and that of my BWB partner, as well. Feel free to double-click on an image for a closer look. Sidenote: I could not locate a Dental Hygienist, so I went with Dentist, which sums up everything pretty accurately, except the first pic. Also, forgive the haphazard photo placement. It’s as good as I can do without my kids to help me. Enjoy…

DentistAccountant1

Trader

Sales

Filmmaker

Musician

Journalist

Blogger2

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dying on the blue cross

This so perfectly sums up the insanity of insurance/bureaucratic hell…

I didn't have my glasses on....

Imaged

once again, i’ve stumbled into a bureaucratic rabbit hole:

in short, i filled out a ‘healthy incentives’ survey in order to qualify for the most cost effective program offered by my health insurance provider.  somehow it all went wrong at *step 1.

  1. *i filled out the survey 
  2. felt happy that i had completed a horribly tedious piece of paperwork and based upon the results, would easily qualify for the program
  3. got a letter from blue cross
  4. letter said they never received my survey and i was now automatically enrolled in the higher cost plan
  5. i called them (where things got worse)
  6. music i was subjected to while on hold during the experience: smooth jazz, easy listening, elevator cover music
  7. departments i spoke with/was on hold with/opted into with my keyboard pounding : customer service, non-compliance, nursing, engagement center, health resource coordination center
  8. lots of 800 and 888 numbers and…

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A Day In The Life…

two hands inspirational pic 2

I am a dental hygienist by trade. I received my Bachelor of Science in Dental Hygiene from Loyola University of Chicago. Oh, and a Minor in Psychology, too, so…yeah. I’ll allow a few seconds for the inevitable “oooohhhs” from my impressed readers. Continuing….often, people will ask, with a look of distaste, how I can put my hands in people’s mouths for a living. Truth is, usually, it ain’t that bad. Usually. I’m pretty tough. It takes a lot to gross me out. Saliva? Child’s play. Blood? Please. Wanna’ get a little peek into the brain of your hygienist? Here goes: she probably won’t lose sleep over your not flossing every day. She really won’t. Periodontal disease is not what she lives for. Not if she’s normal, that is. What, then, you may ask, keeps her returning day after day? Her patients. I suppose, at this point, I can really only speak for myself. I work in a great office. The staff work well together and I have never seen a doctor who loves her patients (and is so loved in return) as much as she does. And, to be fair, there are a few patients I wouldn’t be heartbroken to learn that they moved far, far away. But, overall, our patient base is great. Every day I look at my next schedule and think, “Yes! Mary is coming in. Or Mark. Or Karen (you know who you are!).

My husband marvels over how emotionally invested I am in my patients. We talk. We confide.  And, well, we just become friends. We laugh like crazy. I’ve cried with them, too. We hug. And somewhere in between, I take care of all that nagging scraping and x-raying that is required for me to collect a paycheck.  So, today, I had one of those great moments. I saw a man almost ninety years of age. He was frail and in a wheelchair. I love this man. He is so gentle and sweet, you just can’t help but love him. He was a soldier in the Army and served in the South Pacific during WWII. He was shot in the leg. Twice. He still owns and wears his original pair of aviator sunglasses. And he is just one of the coolest guys I know. Because of a recent fall, he is confined to a wheelchair. He told me he hopes it’s only for a while, but I think it will most likely be for good. And that made me sad. He was accompanied by his son-in-law, whose compassionate tending to the father of his wife was nothing short of amazing and, quite honestly, very touching. He carried this elderly man out of his chair, transferring him into my chair and back again, all the while encouraging him with, “Come on Bud, we got this.” Old Jake cannot communicate very well anymore. But his eyes speak volumes. They sparkle when he smiles. And he smiles often. As they were leaving the office, his son-in-law told us that they were now going to enjoy beer and hotdogs for lunch together!  Seeing these two men really made my day and I just wanted to share that.

So, when people make faces and ask how I can do the same thing day in and day out, I counter that it’s not the same thing. Every day is different. Every day I look forward to catching up with my patients. I can’t wait to hear what their kids are up to. I love talking to my teenage patients about how their school’s football team went to state or what part they won in the school play or what college they’re thinking about attending, or what they want to major in. That’s the best part of my job. Quite honestly, the part I could do without is the scraping and x-raying. I know I’m not alone in that. But, hey, I gotta make a living. That Minor in Psych probably won’t lead to anything.

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Cellll-A-Brate Good Times…

champagne uncorked picThis week marks the first time, in over twenty-six years, that I’ve experienced no kids in the house. And, let me tell you, it has been  FANTASTIC. I love my kids and all, but, OMG, it’s been SO nice to not have them around. I mean I’ve fantasized about this for many, many years. Yes, many, many. People would tell me, “Oh that’s what you think now, but just wait. You’ll miss your kids. You’ll miss the noise. It will be too quiet.” To which I respond, “Are you on drugs or something?”

It is impossible to be too quiet. In fact, my husband, who is slavishly working at his computer until the wee hours, desperately trying to finish tax returns before the dreaded upcoming deadline, is kind of making too much noise for me. It’s becoming more and more difficult to concentrate on my reality shows when I find myself continually needing to increase the volume of the television to drown out his sighing and moaning.

This small window into Life Without Kids is only temporary, though. My daughter will be returning home in two days from a spring-break trip to Florida. And in a few short weeks, her brother will be moving back home from school for the summer. With all his stuff. Unless, that is, he manages to get a job in Iowa City. I’m working on that now. Those are my babies. I’m working on the assumption that the older ones are gone for good – confident the married one has seen the last of his bedroom in the basement and my number two son might return home after finishing graduate school, but that won’t be for another year or so, according to my calculations. (I can just see him now dry-heaving at the thought)

But, I do see a light at the end of this tunnel when, come next fall, if all goes as planned, everyone will be safely tucked away in some sort of living quarters that is not here with me. The key word in that sentence is “away.”  Apartment… dorm…hostel…public housing…wherever, it won’t be at home. And, then, let the good times roll… But for now, I’ve just received a text requesting that I pay our U-Bill so my boy can continue his college studies without suffering the stigma of restricted privileges. Back to real life…fantasizing about the day my dog no longer lives with me. Another thing I’ve been thinking about for many, many years.

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