An obituary for Yogi

There is much sadness these days for all the baseball fans here in RehabLand. While we are far away from New York City, many mourn one the passing of the last great characters in baseball, Lawrence Peter "Yogi" Berra, the pride of the Yankees.

Here in the wilds of the middle of America, it ain't proper to like anything coastal. "Them people are strange" is a comment that is not uncommon. In the villages, towns and small cities, baseball is the life of summer. People come out, see neighbors, and have a good time.

Yogi, however, was someone people could identify with in RehabLand. He was a son of immigrants who grew up in St. Louis, MO and never forgot where he came from. He was tough and never let people's impression of him become his destiny. Beneath that smiling, crinkly face was a sharp guy with an eye for baseball, and how to navigate it successfully.

In later years, Ron Guidry wrote a book about going to spring training with him. I highly recommend it. It's a fun book to read.

It really wasn't over, 'til it was over, and what a life it was. Thank you Yogi for giving us a lot of smiles and excitement watching our national past time. You will be missed.

Dear Hotel Geek Squad

Yes, I realize you are under pressure to upgrade all the PCs in our building by the end of the fiscal year because the IT honchos told you to do so.

It is not, however, a good idea to not tell the nurse manager that at 0300, while nurses are writing notes, recording vital signs, etc., you guys (since there are no women involved) will be pushing PC updates over the network to many computers at the nurses' stations.

In case you forgot, nurses really do work 24/7. While you are snoring away and a computer is doing your work, nurses are doing theirs live and in person. You simply cannot do this without warning.

As my professor in nursing school used to say (because some IT guy said it to her), "If I want to break something or find flaws in how it works, I give it to a nurse." So if you disturb the night nurses, they will figure out ways to break your stuff. Off/on is not a good game to play on a PC early in the AM when updates are going over the network.

Just sayin'...be nice to the night (and really all) nursing staff.

Sincerely, really, so not kidding,

Your favorite nurse ('cause I fix the easy stuff so you don't have to),

RehabRN

Out of the mouths of babes

I always call myself an "amateur mother" because, with only one kid, I feel that I am. I do not have to manage the chaos that is two or more kids vomiting at the same time. I call WildDog my furry kid, but he's pretty self-sufficient. I guess it's that herding breed or something.

Bubba and random kids have given me much food for thought lately.

"Mom, what's your favorite kind of cherry: the tart ones or maraschinos?" Bubba
Translation: I really want you take me to Bobby's Famous Frozen Custard for that ice cream you get me. I did get him distracted by arguing the merits of Rainier cherries.


"He won't come down when you call. Why?" Little girl at McDonald's recently about Bubba
My answer: He will when I tell him I'm leaving without him. He thinks climbing to the top of the play land and hiding in the tallest part until he gets threats is fun. Crazy boy.

"Mom, I think there's a storm watch. Do we go to higher ground?" Bubba
Somehow, I don't think the recent severe weather practice drill was as informative as when I was in school. I remember the bad old days: teachers had everyone in the central halls, all the classroom doors closed, and everyone was crouched with our heads tucked to avoid flying debris.

Luckily, after that first big hail storm in kindergarten, things were pretty boring at school after that. All the exciting weather, like the blizzard that closed school for a week, happened when kids were at home.


"Dad, do you know you were alive when the Super Bowl started?" Bubba
My child loves math and if you give him a few facts he starts calculating. Ah, like my parents, I have delusions of grandeur: chemist, biologist, pharmacist, engineer, doctor. In reality, Bubba is lucky: all of his aunts and great aunts have done those jobs. (The uncles are the docs.) Or even a nurse (or nursing professor) like his cousins.

What better role models for a boy to have? Aunts, uncles, and cousins in interesting jobs they find fun. That a dream I hope everyone gets to see reality. My job may be crazy, but despite Manglement's perverted view of promoting nurses' work to the "highest level of practice" by denying any education opportunity THEY might have to pay for, they can't take the enjoyment away.