For those of you that don’t know, I work inside a hospital.  I don’t work for the hospital, but at the hospital.  Right now, my workspace is inside the ER.  Not even an office area; my “desk” is a computer station cut out of the wall in the hallway.  Hopefully that sets the scene for you....

Anyway, this afternoon there was heartbreaking, hysterical screaming coming from one of the patient rooms.  I could tell it was a child, and one of the pharmacy students told me it was a seven year old little girl getting an IV put in for her high fever.  I said “Oh the poor baby!” and went on with my day.  

After a while, the screaming was getting to me.  It sounds really awful, writing it out here, but after a while all the ER noise does get distracting.  I felt bad for her, but thought to myself she is seven, that’s old enough to understand she has to calm down and let the doctors/nurses take care of her so she can get better!  Screaming and thrashing will not make it go away faster!  Why isn’t a parent calming her down?

She eventually stopped and business went on as usual.  I forgot she was even there; once a patient is discharged they are gone – the real estate is too valuable, especially on days like today.  Then as I was gathering my things to leave, I noticed a nurse in the hall with a child and realized it was the girl from that room.  She was blind.

I literally felt the breath be knocked out of me.  It is one thing for a child who can see what is going on to be in a hospital bed, but can you imagine not being able to see what is being done to you?  And be only seven years old?  And even when things are explained to her, she has no frame of referece to know what an IV looks like, just what it feels like going in.  And even as an adult I hate IVs and nearly throw up when I have one put in.  Just imagine being that sick, and that scared, and not able to see anything that is coming at you.  It is the stuff of nightmares!  My heart just broke for that little girl.

I have to read Perez Hilton every day.

I LOVE the stuff at ModCloth! Especially the shoes.

Target needs to be the official Skirt! store.  Endorsement deal anyone?

I noticed last night one of my calico cats has the Motorola “M” logo on her back in black fur. Hmmm... wonder if they want to pay for extra advertising?

Note for future:  Don’t drink cappuccino when you’ve already had a stomach ache that morning.

*singing* I get to go to Target today!  I get to go to Target today!  Ooh goody, and Office Max next door!

Read some info, and in two weeks I can find out the truth behind my Twittered-about issue yesterday.  I am being forced to learn patience, I suppose.  Not a fun lesson.  Merci and Cheryl, keep your fingers crossed! For what I don’t really know, though.  I’m ok either way.

Emma informed me last night she is going to write a book.  A mystery book.  She said she’s dreaming about it every night and figures the only way she’ll get some sleep is if she writes it all down.  Such insight!  Then she told me it will be her third or fourth book attempt. Wow.  I had no idea.  Maybe I shouldn’t write in secreet any more and be a better example for her.

Speaking of that, I haven’t written anything in that area for a couple weeks now.  Hmm.  Better do something about that.

I think I need to add to my writer’s toolbox story also.  Although Emma read it last night as my husband was and asked me if I couldn’t have used “dang” instead of “that bad word.”  I love her innocence.

Today I had the opportunity to attend the Martin Luther King, Jr Commemoration Commission Business Awards Luncheon.   Wow that’s a long name!  I was not sure what to expect; coworkers who attended last year’s luncheon had stories of a speaker who was fired up to the point of racism against white people.  As in he actually said “White people should be shot!”  I thought, though, “What the heck; it’s lunch I don’t have to pay for, it gets me out of the hospital, and it should be entertaining if nothing else.”

The speaker today was Dr Terrance Roberts, one of the  “Little Rock Nine.”  In case you didn’t pay attention in history class, those were the nine students who were chosen to integrate Central High School in Little Rock, Arkansas in 1957.  Less than two minutes into his talk (it was too good to be relegated to “speech” status) I wished I had a recorder to have a record of every word he said.  His way of wording things was inspiring in itself.  When he told of the people lined up along the walkway as the students were escorted into the school, he didn’t complain about how vicious they were; he said “they knew a lot about our mothers” and “they had lots of travel advice, and were glad to tell us where to go.” 

His own words best tell the story of his first realization that segregation was wrong.  The following is copied from his  biography in the program from today.

“One day when I was 13 years old I had an epiphany.  I had walked into a  Krystal hamburger joint where I was going to order my burger, malt, and fries to go, because black people could order food to go from this white establishment but could not sit down.  I had previously done just that.  On this particular day I ordered my food and sat down on a stool.

“I can’t explain to you even today how and why that happened.  It was kind of an ordinary 13 year old thing to do while I waited.  But then, everything in that restaurant stopped.  All the heads swiveled in my direction.  Without a word I got that nonverbal message ‘boy you better get some sense in your head.’

“I woke up at that point.  I could no longer in good conscience follow the rules of segregation.  I realized that would put me at great risk because I would be in situatins that were foreign to me.  Fortunately the opportunity  came not much later for me to join this group of nine to desegregate Central High School.  I was a ready volunteer.”

His story, and the way he lived his life, inspires me.  After that year at Central High School, his family moved to Los Angeles.  Another story he told today related how, while at a sports club at California State University he was stopped by an employee rather harshly and asked for his card stating he could be there.  Instead of ignoring the affront, or taking offense, he asked the employee to see HIS card.  This flustered the young man, and while he was searching his own pockets Mr Roberts calmly told him that as someone with a rational mind he would accept the employee’s right to be there, but pointed out that is was unfair to single him out for credentials when he hadn’t asked anyone else on that court playing basketball to prove that they had the right to be there.  The employee proceeded to ask each one for their cards.  Instead of a confrontation breaking out, or ignorance proceeding, enlightenment occured for that employee.

Mr Roberts of course  mentioned the upcoming inauguration.  He also said that the battle for Civil Rights is not over.  I agree wholeheartedly with that sentiment.  The battle will not be over until the race or gender of a candidate is not even mentioned because it is expected and perfectly normal.  I long for the day when the fact that a national candidate is a woman or not Caucation is a non-issue.

And don’t think that it is not my battle because I am a white woman.  It is my fight because I am a human being, because I am a citizen of this country. It is all of our fight.

No one can walk alone.

Sunday proved (as if I had any doubt) that my husband and I belong together. 

We were getting warm clothes on to take some boxes outside to our storage building.  He pulled a pair of socks out of his sock drawer as I was digging for some in mine.  He held them up in my face and said “Socks!” (yes we were being silly)  The first thing that popped in my mind was.. um.. sex!  The words just sound so similar I can’t help it.  However, Emma was across the hallway in her room so I couldn’t say it out loud, so I just pointed at the bed and said “Not socks!”

He doubled over in laughter, which set me off laughing.  Hard.  When both of us could breath again, I asked him if he was laughing because by some miracle he got my reference, or because it was so random and off-the-wall.  Turns out he was thinking the EXACT SAME THING as I was (like I said, the words are just SO SIMILAR!)  so he understood instantly what I was referring to. 

Of course that set off another round of laughter!  Eventually we got our socks and shoes on and the boxes outside, but it sure was a good laugh break.