Sometimes God Decides to Yell

Before I found a teaching job, I worked at a hospital. I've never had any real desire to go into medicine, or work in the medical field, but when a good friend from church asked me if I'd ever considered being a Nurse Assistant I shrugged my shoulders and said I'd think about it. She explained that the job didn't require any training that I wouldn't receive on site. I would also receive medical benefits through the hospital (now I was interested), and it paid $12.50 an hour (definitely interested!).
I went in for an interview and a couple weeks later started training from 7-3:30, Monday through Friday for two weeks. I learned first aid; CPR/AED; how to change bedding, diapers, and bedpans; universal precautions; air and bloodborne pathogens; taking vitals and everything in between. It was pretty boring. After two weeks of classes, I got to go up to the med/surge floor and shadow another nurse assistant.
I got put on the day shift, which meant I worked from 7am to 7:30 pm 3 days a week and every other weekend. After I was ready to be out from under the wing of my mentor, I for some reason got switched to work every weekend. It worked out that way because in order to have enough hours to still be full-time, I had to put in both weekends and one mid-week day. I got pretty upset because working the day shift every weekend meant I had to miss church.

Enter God, one Sunday morning when my attitude started to get the better of me.
Fact 1: None of these patients get to be at church either.

The typical morning routine was to check everyone's vital signs and record them. Then, after vitals was breakfast. Depending on the mobility of the patients, my role varied. For some, I would just wish them a good breakfast and make sure they had everything they needed. Others needed their food cut up for them. And then there were the patients who could not feed themselves. These patients I sat down next to and patiently spooned food into their mouths as they indicated they were ready for another bite.
Fact 2: Serving breakfast sometimes literally constitutes as serving.

After breakfast, it was time to make sure everyone was cleaned up and the bed sheets got changed. Again, depending on the mobility of the patients, my roles were very different. Some patients went to take their own showers, and I changed their beds in a couple minutes. Other patients got wheeled to the large shower down the hall and tried not to shiver as I soaped them up and hosed them down. Their beds got changed, also pretty easily, and they were assisted back into a clean bed. But then there were the patients who could not move at all. They still needed to be bathed. This is where I would fill a small tub with warm sudsy water, close the curtains, and try to gently--yet thoroughly--clean their bodies and dry, cover, and dress them before they have a chance to get too cold. While bathing, the sheets have to be changed while the patient is still in the bed, so a lot of carefully timed rolling and turning is involved.
Fact 3: Taking care of someone in their most vulnerable state makes you realize no one has to see you in yours.

After baths, the day goes by pretty quickly. There's no routine to it, if someone needs something the call light will go on and a nurse or assistant will go answer the call. I learned really quickly that many of the people with whom I worked did not want to be there. I learned really quickly that some people will ignore a blinking call light, hoping the next person will pick it up.
Fact 4: These patients don't want to be there either.

Once all of these facts were falling into place, I realized that even though I wasn't able to serve God at church I needed to be serving. I needed to be a servant to the patients under my care. And literally from that moment on, I loved my job. I worked hard to make sure that I was always pleasant, patient, and kind when a call light went off. If I could do nothing else to help these people get better, I could serve them genuinely, wholly, and willingly. Whether it was the patient with C-Diff who needed a diaper and complete sheet change every fifteen minutes, or the patient who needed to be turned every two hours so he would not develop bedsores. The patients who couldn't eat or drink, but who desperately needed oral care; or the patients who just needed somebody to yell at. Patients who had run off every other NA working, or who were so senile they played in their poop before rubbing it all over the bed, and then calling for help. I genuinely enjoyed caring for them, and often was surprised at how quickly my days passed. I knew that when God called me to serve joyfully that if I actually asked to be made into his servant that the result of my willing service would be joy.

I loved that job. I loved it in spite of the poop, the puke, the puss, the impertinence, and the occasional painfulness. Sometimes as a teacher, I forget that it's not about me. It's not about what I want my kids to get out of it. It's about serving them and providing them with the skills they will need to make it outside of my classroom.
Servanthood isn't about what I can do. It's about what I will do. It's about what I am doing.

This morning at church, Mark preached about being a servant. We sang some songs that (if you paid attention) were little prayers asking God to make us servants like him. Those are some pretty hefty shoes to fill. But if you ask God to make you a servant like him, sit back and listen for his instruction. Don't assume you must be a slave to anyone in order to serve him. God will yell it if he has to.
Fact 5: Serving with a joyful heart takes the drive out of the slave driver.

Being "It" Made Me Realize I Miss My Favorite Restaurants.

I got tagged a week or so back my my hilarious friend, Naomi. Clearly, this calls for my response. :)

4 Things I did yesterday:
1. Wore jeans to work
2. Went to cheer on the Pistons, even though they forgot to show up to play actual basketball
3. Cut cheese. And ate it
4. Filled up my car for significantly less than $20.

4 Things on my Wish List:
1. I will one day return to Michigan to live.
2. To run at least one marathon a year until I'm 40
3. To one day get married and have like 4 kids.
4. That pancakes will never stop being my favorite food.

4 Restaurants I like (sadly, none of which I've found in Oklahoma):
1. Buca di Beppo
2. Buddy's Pizza
3. Anything with Medeterranian Cuisine
4. East Side Mario's

4 TV shows I like:
1. Gossip Girl
2. Law and Order: SVU
3. Malcolm in the Middle
4. Psych

I've decided to not tag anyone. Not that I don't care about and what you think. But moreso because a lot of my tag-ee's have already been tagged, or have dissed my tags in the past. Or (niki) don't post anything but professional photograpny on their sites. . .

Oh, and Jennifer--I'll get to that award thing you gave me. . .all in due time.

The Time I Rode the Short Bus Home

I am not one who embarrasses very easily. In fact, I tend to revel in awkward situations. Therefore, be excited: this is my most embarrassing moment to date.

I was in 3rd grade. I rode the bus every day both to and from school, and never minded it. The bus dropped me off at the end of our road, and I'd walk from the bus stop home. It was probably about a ten minute walk, rain or shine. One time I got bit by a dog. It was no big deal. Bus stops are just a part of life.

I remember feeling a tiny twinge of jealousy because the bus driver was a really nice lady and a lot of the kids she would drop off directly at their houses. If she was going to drive by the house anyway, she said she might as well. I was always the last stop, and I was the only one who couln't be dropped off at my house because my street was a dead end. There's no way a bus could get out.

Then, ond day, our bus was broken down. We waited for a little while, and finally our bus driver pulled up. She pulled up, alright. Pulled up in a short bus. I was mortified, but I figured I would suck it up and rirde the short bus if all my other friends had to ride it too. But keep in mind, those windows aren't tinted! What would people think!?

So our bus driver goes through the route, and as per usual I am the last one on the bus. My stop is nearing and I start to gather my things to walk off this nightmare the second she pulls up to the end of my street. We start getting closer, and I notice that she has passed the normal place that she typically turns on her flashers. In fact, we're practically right up on my stop and she's still driving.
No, wait.
She's not still driving....
she's turning.
She's turning right.
She's TURNING DOWN MY STREET!

Sinking lower and lower down into my seat, hoping that I will wake up any second, the bus turns into my driveway. She (seriously) turns on her flashers and opens the door. She smiles at me as I step off the bus and I run into my house.

And you people wonder why I'm so quirky. . . .

Oprah Told Me To Do It.

I don't typically listen to things Oprah says--let alone things she tells me to do. I think overall she's just a tiny bit kooky for my taste. However, yesterday, Oprah told me to do something.

Oprah told me to ask myself a bunch of questions. I don't remember what any of them were except for one: What are you hungry for?

Don't ask me why I suddenly decided that I should listen to Oprah; but before I went to bed last night, I sat down with a pen and notebook and seriously asked myself the question, "What are you hungry for, Kari?"
I started listing things, before each one saying: I'm hungry for. . . or I'm hungry to. . . and by the time I was done I had a list of over 20 things. If I was going to try to be honest and introspective with myself, I figured I would really write it. No matter how trivial.

Oprah didn't tell me what to do next. So I lie there in my bed and looked at my list. It occured to me that only 2 things on my entire list were things in the realm of my control.
2.
Out of 20.

So here's what I took away from it: I am a very hungry person.
But I can physically and mentally only satisfy 10% of my hunger. That leaves me (mathematically) hungry 90% of the time.

I'm thinking that Oprah wanted people to find the source of their hunger so they could conquer it. When you seek what you are truly hungry for, you will not want to fill it with food.
So here's where you step in and say, "Ah, but Kari! That's what's so great! God's word is your daily bread! Your hunger and thirst for righteousness will fill you up!"
Yeah, I already thought of that. That's 5% of my 10. I can't be full on God's word if it's not the only thing I'm hungry for. I've still got 18 other hungers that I can't satiate. Therefore, either I'm always going to fill the need to fill up, or I'm always going to feel empty.

So, literally or figuratively, this is my wisdom:
Next time I'm reaching for food (out of boredom) I need to try to remember what I'm hungry for. Is eating this going to fill me with God's word? Is it going to make me a stronger runner? Is it going to keep my brother healthy? Is it going to give me Michigan? Is it going to de-clutter my parent's house?

I can fill my stomach only so full. But because I listened to Oprah I now have a much better understanding of why I'm not often satisfied. It's because I'm still hungry. And I have to accept that while it's okay to be hungry for things I can't change, no amount of healthy or unhealthy fuel will fill that void. I have to call on outside help.

And I don't mean Oprah.

A Serious Addiction

Everyone has a vice. Some are serious, others may be considered trivial. Some require counseling, others just some good old-fashioned will-power.
My current vice is an addiction. It's one that has only spawned as of very recently; but I can't seem to shake the urge. The urge to watch all of the Rocky movies.

Go ahead, get your giggles out. I am addicted to Rocky.

I can honestly say I never (ever) had any desire to watch the Rocky movies, but something inside me was pricked earlier this summer. A good friend stared at me in disbelief when I told him I'd never seen any of the movies and he announced that we would have a Rocky-Thon when I came back to Michigan over Christmas break. I agreed--mostly because with this particular friend there is always much fun had, no matter what we are doing.
Building up from this summer until this December was the anticipation of watching the Rocky movies; and inexplicably the excitement was mounting. I wanted to see them.

Fast forward to Christmas Eve. I hadn't heard from my friend about our Rocky-Thon, and the movies happened to be on television that night in marathon form. Apparently, that was the best way to watch them. I had missed Rocky I, but I tuned in just in time for the beginning of Rocky II. The movie began, and I had been getting so much greif from my brother and brother in-law about how stupid the movies were I wasn't expecting that much.
However, the movie started, and I was loving it. Not just liking it. Not just okay. I was thoroughly enjoying every single second of it. I was laughing, I was on the edge of my seat, I was in total awe.

I ended up falling asleep shortly into the 3rd movie--but not from boredom. Simply because it was 2 o'clock in the morning, and I was getting very tired of having to turn the volume up during the movie and down during the commercials. That Friday night around 8:30 I called my friend and asked if we could still do the Rocky-Thon even though I was leaving Sunday morning, and Saturday was his birthday. He walked into the front door of my house ten minutes later; and thus began one of the most memorable nights of my life. The beginning of my new-found addiction.

Here's what I love about Rocky:

First, and most obviously, I love the entire basis of his career and fame. I love that even though he didn't win the initial fight with Apollo, what made him a hero was that he kept getting up. He did the impossible, and out-lasted any former opponent. There is something really powerful about that to me. The fact that even though you lose the battle, the war isn't lost. Rocky did something that no other professional fighter had done; and it was enough to make an impact.

Secondly, I love the character of Rocky. I loved that he was just a good guy. He wasn't a jerk, or a punk. He respected people, tried to set an example, and did his best to be his best. He wasn't too bright, but he never got cocky (save his initial TKO in Rocky III). I was honestly very surprised by the humility Rocky maintained throughout the series. I loved his initial innocence with Adrian and trying to woo her. He would just tell her jokes, and try to walk her home. I loved the gentleness she brought out in him, and the development of their entire relationship. I loved how hard he worked when they ran out of money. And I love how nothing was below him, even though he had won fame.

Next, I love the relationship between Adrian and Rocky. I liked her blunt honesty with him, and her ability to be a rock for him while being so understated. When he asked her if she needed help she said, "yes." When he asked her if he looked dumb, she told him. I enjoyed watching Adrian come out of her shell and grow into a strong woman who stood by her husband. I like how she provided strength for him, and he helped her realize her own strength.

Finally, I really really was impressed by the writing. I love that there was so much wit and punch (especially in the first two) to the dialogue. I love that Sylvester Stallone was clever enough to write so well that he could make things come out of Rocky's mouth be so completely innocent and idiotic; but yet so terribly witty and hilarious. I love the part in Rocky II where he says, "you like having a good time, don't you? Then you need a good watch." I love the wordplay there. I laughed every time Rocky told somebody he was proud of him. Or, "good job!" But Stallone was able to keep us believing that he innocently was just saying something casual.

Being such a classic movie, I never realized how many allusions TV shows and movies make to the Rocky series. I have been catching little things here and there on TV all week. I have been constantly reminded of Rocky ever since, and have wanted to watch them again. And I don't want to pick--I want to watch them all (even though Rocky II is easily my favorite). I've decided that I'm going to save up my tutoring money that I make so I can buy them. I will do my best to not spend every waking moment watching Rocky--but I feel like I need to make up for my 25 years of life never having watched them at all. :)

Here's to heroes.
Here's to putting hope in the good guy.
Here's to inspiration.
And here's to not fighting an addiction.

May there be many more viewings of Rocky to come!