Parkinson's and a Chainsaw plus One Dead Dog.

My mother phones me up in the middle of my night shift sleep to tell me that my brother's dog died up at my sister's farm.

I had asked "What happened?"   in response to her cryptic "Poor Boz" that  she posted to her Facebook Wall. (Yes, my mother at age 81 has a Facebook account!)

Not a good thing to post without explanation especially when the grand kids who actually own the dog are up late at night - see it  - and  post the exact same thing I did.  

She replied with an even more cryptic "Phone your sister and ask her".....

Apparently he was hit by a car. 

Sad story. 

You really don't want to know the details - but here it goes anyway. 

My idiot brother had bought this Leonberger dog with the intention to breed him because he had this wild idea that he could make some quick money (first mistake) and paid an exorbitant price for the dog that he could ill afford (second mistake).

Of course, it was like flushing the money down the loo because no one had time to spend with him (third mistake), and he became an unruly big untrained bear of a dog - albeit harmless. 

It got so no one could handle him, and after a disastrous spill from the back of my brother's truck while driving down the highway (yes, I know. Stupid, stupid.  Like I said...and fourth mistake.) and a broken hip later that he allowed to heal on it's own because a vet was too expensive (fifth mistake), Boz was put on my Sister's farm up in northern Alberta to live out his life.  

As it so happens, his life he lived out was cut short when he was hit by what was probably the only vehicle to drive by during a huge electrical storm.

Thus the cryptic "Poor Boz" on my mother's FB page.

But that isn't the end of it.  In my foggy haze of half asleep/half awake state that we as nurses experience when we get a phone call mid-sleep in mid-day..... I offhandedly asked mom what dad was up to.

"Oh your Uncle is here (Dad's brother, husband of the nearly-drowned aunt) and he and your dad are out cutting wood for the winter."

"You mean.....trees? Those big trees out front??"

 "Your dad couldn't get the chainsaw started. They are using a small saw..."

"Wait....what??? Well thank goodness for that, mom.   He's got Parkinson's!"

"Don't you worry," mom says casually - honestly believing what she is saying.  "He knows what he's doing."

"MOM. I know that he knows what he's doing! But - a chainsaw??? He's got - Parkinson's!! Think about it!  Don't you think that's slightly dangerous??"

I have to admit, the nurse in me had to be amused just a teensy bit at the vision that just flashed through my mind.  I couldn't help it. 

Admit it.  You did too!

Parkinson's and a chainsaw. 

That's a casualty waiting to happen.

Holy Mackerel.  It gives me nightmares thinking about the possibilities.

The bad thing is....it isn't like I could even stop it.

Sometimes we as adult children, have to just stop and take a breath, and let parents be parents.... there is nothing to do but pray they don't harm themselves along the way.

What a reversal.

Wait a minute.  I think I posted about that before......

*sigh*

Of Knitting Needles and Bears

We get home from camping and there's a message from my mom on my phone.

"This is your mother calling....give me a call....I need to ask you something..."

Sounds serious.

The message was left on Friday - and here it is Sunday night. 

I tried to brush off the panic.  Wouldn't she have emailed me if it were important??

I give her a call.

"Hey mom, what's up?"

Apparently when she sat down on the couch, she forgot she tucked her knitting needles in between the seat cushion and the arm of the couch - sharp ends sticking up.

this is the way they should have
been stuck into the couch...

Seems she impaled her arm with a knitting needle.*  Needless to say it bled profusely.   

After she described the injury to me - "It went in about two inches"....she tried to reassure me, "Don't worry, I took care of it....I took a couple pills from the dentist -  and it's not bleeding anymore."

So now I am curious.  "What pills?" I ask. 

Do I really want to know???

"Oh, it's just some pills the dentist gave me when I was going to get my teeth done"

"What? Did you just have something done at the dentist?"

"Well, no, I cancelled the dentist, but he had given me some antibiotics because of my hip replacement - I was supposed to take before the procedure - and after"

"Don't tell me you took the antibiotics"

"No....I didn't ....I only took two..."

"MOM! That's even worse....you never ever take antibiotics unless you take the whole course of it.  And you don't take them unless your doc says to. That's how we get our superbugs....Never mind now you don't have enough antibiotics now for when you have your dental procedure...."

*sigh*

I know I have preached the antibiotics sermon to my entire family....how could this have happened???

Mom and Dad insist on living in the middle of nowhere....too far away from any of our family to go and save them from themselves.

While I am thinking that perhaps they are soon in need of closer supervision ....mom is yelling at dad in the background...."Bill, come quick! The bear is back!! Come look!!"

they can wreck your house
in less than a minute...

To me, she says " There's a small bear at our sliding glass door!"

Back to dad - "Bill! close that door!"

Right about now I am picturing a bear being let into the house, mauling my parents.

Me: "Mom, for Pete's sake, tell dad to keep the door closed.  What the.....  don't you know how dangerous those bears are???"

Mom: "Well that second one is a baby...."

Me: "Mom!!!! The babies are dangerous!! SCARE THEM OFF!!! With noise!!! LOTS of noise!!!  The mother will get angry if she sees you - and then you're toast.... there isn't any window or sliding glass door that is going to stop her....!!!!!"

Mom: "Oh no....they don't bother us....they just come and visit the compost...and the bird feeders...and leave paw prints on the windows...."

Me: "Oh for cripes sake....geezzzz mom....you know you shouldn't compost so close to the house if at all!!! That's rule number ONE!!!  No wonder they come around all the time!!! And take down those feeders!!!! Or at least move them away from the window....!"

Mom: "OK....I gotta go....[Bill! Close that door~!!] Gotta go! Bye..."

Me: "But....MOM!!!!....wait...."

*click*  Mom hangs up.

Honestly. 

I am so stressed, I think I need a propanolol.

More chest pains.

*sigh*

No point in worrying.  By the time I drive up there to their place, they'd be some bear's lunch.

Can't think about it.

It's like having kids.

Unfortunately, I never had kids....so it's all new territory to me.

Sad really.

Funny how things flip.

Mom and Dad used to be the one telling me what to do.....but, only difference is.....

I used to listen.

this is what I think of those bears... cute my butt!
"Knitting needles"

*No, mom wasn't up to date with her tetanus either. I sent her for follow-up with her MD.....if she listened to me.....

Wineries

If you ever get to visit British Columbia, Canada - one of the places you have to tour is the Okanagan Valley -  an extension of the California Desert - the tip just curving up over the border into Canada by 100 miles or so.  

Vineyards in the Okanagan

On many drives home from San Francisco, the route I would take would be the I-5 up through the western states -  exiting at Weed, CA....carrying on up Hwy 97 through Oregon and Washington State and up into B.C.  

I have often described The Valley to my American friends like this:  "Picture the Napa Valley with Lake Tahoe in it."  

View from Grey Monk Estate Winery Restaurant - the vines haven't yet sprouted, behind by 6 wks due to a cooler than usual spring

The scenery is picturesque with the beautiful mountains on either side of the valley,  the narrow lake down the middle and grape vines and orchards growing on the sloping hillsides.  

This is the view from my school bus every day when I went to highschool

The south Okanangan, where I grew up, is more arid - semi-desert and has the 100 plus F temperatures in the summer..... tumbleweeds, sagebrush, cacti and your usual Rattlesnakes and scorpions.

 Great wine country!

The north Okanagan is a little greener, but still - great wine country - once again! (can I stress that enough?)

There are over 111 wineries in British Columbia - most of them award-winning VQA (Vintner's Quality Alliance).   One of my favorite things to do in the summer and fall is to take tours through wine country, visiting several along the way. 

You can actually arrange winery tours by bus, train or float plane.  Most of the time we just draw straws for a "designated driver" and go by car.

Grey Monk Estate Winery entrance - mom and dad going in

This time, we gathered with family at the Grey Monk Estate Winery north of Kelowna for Mother's day brunch.  I had only been there once before - back in the 1980s, and it has expanded considerably - now with a restaurant overlooking the Okanagan Lake.

View up the Valley from the Restaurant deck

After dinner, we did some wine-tasting and then carried on to Predator Ridge Golf Course, which I will review later.

Happy Anniversary Mom and Dad! :)

59 years married. Today.

They met on New Years Day on Grouse Mountain 1950. The little photo of my dad, taken that day, is in my mom's photo album, cut in the shape of a heart.

When they married, they could barely afford their wedding.

400 people were in attendance because my dad was a popular church youth pastor. The wedding cake was $15. The wedding dress was borrowed. The wedding feast was sandwiches and desserts that the ladies of the church provided.

Because they couldn't afford to pay for the cleanup, they spent the morning after the wedding doing ALL the dishes all by themselves and cleaning up the hall they used for the reception.

They went for their honeymoon by train to Mount Hood where they spent a week at Timberline Lodge for $46.

They are still together after all that time, living on their own, my dad 82 this year and my mom 80 this year.   

They can't believe the time that has gone by and the fact that they are still alive.  My mom told me on the phone tonight that they thought, when they were that young, they would never live to see 65.

Amazing. Where has time gone? 

Winter in Saskatchewan: My Dad's Heritage

I've written stories about my Dutch Gramma and Grampa on my mother's side.....and their stories are quite interesting and well documented in Gramma's diary for posterity.

But my dad's side of the family also has a few stories - albeit passed on by word of mouth which may make them suspect for accuracy since my uncles - when they all got together - could really weave some yarns.  I am thinking that's the Irish blood in them.

Family photo - Jim and Charlie, Grampa on top the cart

My Grandfather rode out from Orangeville Ontario Canada first by train and then continued on by ox and cart.  I can't imagine what kind of a trip that would have been.   Jim and Charlie - the two oxen - were the main means of power around the farm.

  It was the boys' chore to take them to the river to drink every day.  In the fall, trips were made until the river froze over.   They would then just melt the snow for water.

One day, early fall, the river had frozen on the shoreline and Jim the Ox slipped and split his legs (when a heavy ox or cow did 'the splits' -it is not possible to mend ) and they had to shoot him.
Grandma sent them a letter telling the rest of the family the bad news - that "Jim slipped and split his legs and had to be shot".  Of course, everyone she wrote this piece of news to, thought the "Jim" she mentioned was one of my dad's brothers - "Jim".  It caused quite the stir amongst the family.

I am not sure what kind of medical care they had access to on the prairies - that they actually would think that someone would have to be shot for the sake of a broken leg that couldn't be fixed.

Speaking of which, my father was born on the farm on the Saskatchewan prairies as were his brothers and sister.    He was born at home in the middle of winter, under circumstances much like those my Midwife Grandmother had attended in Alberta. 

He came into the world on New Years Eve -  fireplace going....water boiling on the stove.   Celebrations put on hold as they all waited for the news.   There were no hospitals anywhere nearby if anything were to go wrong. 

I don't have to tell you, he made it ok.

Delivering at home was, as was with everyone living in remote Canada,  the only option unless you had the means to drive miles and miles to the nearest city....and since Grandma and Grandpa didn't have a car until they moved to Vancouver  in the 1940s, that wasn't going to happen.   Even the nearest store, a little general store where they would buy the necessities, was 10 miles away.

Because they lived on a farm, the only items they needed to buy was sugar and a little flour, since they did grind some of their own coarse flour on a grinder rigged up out of  an old car motor.  Everything else would come from the land - vegetables, fruits, berries, nuts.  Saskatoon berries (I have at least 12 shrubs growing in my yard here in BC - they grow wild in the Okanagan Valley) were plenteous, and the gardens would reap bushels of strawberries.

A type of coffee was made from roasting, then brewing - coarse ground barley.  I suppose this is similar to Ovaltine - a "coffee substitute" which uses malted barley for one of it's main ingredients.

Canning for winter was a must.  Every sort of vegetable grown was canned.  Jams made.  Potatoes were gathered and stored in a cellar, unwashed, so they would keep.  Turnips, carrots - all the root vegetables would be squirrelled away for the winter months.

 It didn't matter how old you were, if you could walk around - you could work.

As little kids they would go to school in their one room schoolhouse, but also would have their chores to do at home when their classes were finished for the day - or early morning before walking to school - milking cows, gathering eggs, feeding the pigs and chickens....

My uncle told me that one day they were sent to the neighbor's to help stook the oats so the hayracks could pick them up and take them to the thrashers.  As 8 and 10  year old boys, my dad and my uncle would walk the five miles to the neighbor's and do work in the fields, then after, would sleep in the barn, then come home again after the next day's work.  No thought was given as to whether this was safe to walk there and back or whether it was even work that little kids should be doing.

Their sources for amusement were varied.  Fishing, swimming - all things kids do nowadays but with variations.   My dad would tell me how they would set snares for the groundhogs or gophers.  These animals were a nuisance for the farmers - making holes in the field where horses or cows could catch a leg in and injure themselves.  The boys would get once cent for each tail they could bring in.

At the young age of 12 or 13 - the boys would take their rifles and check their trapline for weasels or coyotes or the occasional rabbit.  They would take along sandwiches - usually jam - which became frozen stiff and difficult to eat in the sub zero winter weather.  My father tells of the time they were gone so long - they missed supper.  Darkness falling by 4-5 pm, Grandma was worried, and by the time they got home, Grandma was crying - thinking they were lost and frozen somewhere.


Anyway, every Christmas, it wasn't really Christmas unless Grandma, and later on - my mother continued the tradition - made Mennonite Fruit Soup "Plumamousse"....... Grandma would make for her now Irish family....

Here is that recipe.  It is as delicious as it was back then, full of flavor in it's sweet goodness, and great if you have any problems in the area of regularity. You could actually blend it and freeze it and use it for a "Prune Whip" in lieu of any laxatives.

Please go to this site for a slightly different recipe

Plumamousse

1 package of Prunes
1 package of dried apricots
1 package of raisins
1/2 cup sugar
2 (or so to thicken) Tablespoons Flour

Optional:
You can add a can of cherries, or dried cherries, apples or peaches - or to make it really easy, instead of separate bags of dried fruit - use a huge bag of mixed fruit that you can buy at Costco.  You can also add cinnamon.

Cover with water or apple juice (then you can leave out the sugar)
Let sit overnight to soak
Boil mixture to soften fruit but leave intact - approx 15-20 minutes, and add cornstarch or flour to thicken
Add milk to thin and eat!
Can serve cold or hot.

Here is a similar recipe on a great Mennonite Recipes site using Tapioca pudding

Breast Feeding

I was over at the Man-Nurse Diaries reading some of his past blogposts. I ran across this one - "Dad's Prefer Breast Feeding" and had to chuckle - especially when I looked at his pie chart on why....

It reminded me of a story my mother told me once a while back (she would kill me if she knew I was repeating this, but, uh,  oh well - there isn't anyone I know reading this anyway, except for my girlfriend Jan- and she knows everything about my screwball family so it's gonna be no big news to her!)

 It is one of mom's own breastfeeding stories.

My mother breast fed all of her children - all five of us - in an era that encouraged bottlefeeding - the 1950s.  Or - should I say - actively discouraged breast feeding, so I am quite proud of mom for doing what she thought right when there was so much pressure around her to give it up or made to feel somehow that it was wrong.  It seems that milk production was not a problem for the women in her family.  She took to it really well.

So well, it seems, that at times she sometimes had too much milk - if there is such a problem. (which I don't believe!)  What to do when there was no baby around to feed and there is a little bit of excess and she isn't (for some unknown reason) wanting to pump and save?

So - fast forward to many years later when mom was in a group of women from her church who were discussing breast feeding.  The Pastor's wife had just had her baby and it seems that she had the very same "problem".

Of course she asked my mother, being the experienced and wise sage in the women's group,  what she did when the milk was overflowing and there was no baby to put to the breast.

Mom paused, slightly embarrassed.

"Oh, my husband took care of that" she replied sheepishly with a little smile.

 Way to go Mom.   Not the visual I really wanted.

Purple Heart

My husband's father was a Marine.  He passed away a couple years ago and was buried with a military guard.  When we were visiting his mom this last time - I took some photos of some of his medals for my husband.  This is one of the many..... the Purple Heart.

He was very quiet about his experience over in Korea, but apparently there was a lot of action seen.....and it was horrific enough that he refused to talk about it much. 

I can't imagine.

At one point, he wasn't sure that he and his company would get out alive.

Which brings me back to tattoos again.



Here is a man that actually tattoos Marines that go overseas.   "Modern Day Samurai"......that's what he calls them.

It's a Small World......

This is a posting from June 9th. I laundered it a bit and now am reposting because I just had a question from a fellow blogger as to why I was considering stopping my blog back in July. Obviously I haven't. I missed it way too much. But...I have decided to just "revamp" the old posts to remove the identifiers to me..... and put them up again. I just don't feel comfortable with who has been visiting my blog.... here .... and here.


Both of these organizations can do damage if they so choose....and you don't even have to be guilty to be on the receiving end of the damage ($$$$). It's just too small of a world nowadays. So, here is the entry:

Speaking of "small world"......here's a story for you!

Family Photo - Surinam

Toast to my Father-In-Law

I didn't know my husband's dad very long before he tragically passed away.


He was a Marine and served 3 years of active duty in Korea and was awarded the purple heart. My husband says he didn't talk much about what went on there, but from what little information was offered, it was quite horrific.

family photo

Life was difficult in central Washington state and it was a struggle for the ex-Marine to make a living, trying to raise a family.

There were other obstacles to overcome. You see, my father-in-law's heritage was Apache/Comanche/Hispanic. It didn't seem to matter that he served his country well and suffered as a result. He wasn't "white" and people made sure his kids didn't forget this.

April 2007 my husband and I had the privilege of being present when his dad passed through to the other side. One week before, he had driven 300 miles to see his newborn grandson. He had always wanted to see his name carry on, and finally - the much awaited grandson arrived - born 4 weeks premature - and Dad had his wish.

He suffered a massive stroke and spent a week in the ICU before the decision was made to discontinue all life support. He lived another four days on the general ward. My husband's sister and mom sat with him during the day, we spent the nights. The hospital was kind enough to allow us the use of the 2nd bed in the two-bed room. My husband slept while I got up every two hours to turn him and give mouth care and rub his back. I told the nurses not to worry about us, I could look after him.

When his last couple of breaths were imminent, I woke up my husband and he held his dad's hand and whispered his goodbyes. No matter what his life was like, it was this man that influenced my husband to be the man he was, and I will be forever grateful.







Truly, the ultimate in life is Death, for there in lies the Reason men strive to make their mark in life.

Posted by A NURSE at 7:15 PM



1 comments:

Personal Injury Lawyers Liverpool said...

Perfect family photograph...

June 21, 2010 1:56 AM

Toast to My Father

Since it's Father's Day tomorrow, I thought I would pay homage to the man responsible for my existence.

family photo

My dad is 80 years old. My mother and father have been married for 58 years. He always said, "When I get old and lose all my marbles, just build a fence around the house and let me loose." Thankfully, we have yet to build that fence.

In fact, his memory is better than mine.

His family came out west from Ontario by oxcart and settled in Saskatchewan. His father sold the farm and they moved out to Vancouver. He quit school in Grade 9, apprenticed as a carpenter, met and married my mother. His dream was to build and own his own Resort and 10 years later that dream came true. He struggled to provide for his growing family working two jobs until finally, in their 40's, managed to do well enough to semi-retire and travel - selflessly doing volunteer work all over the world. My folks continued with this work into their early 70s.

I believe if you were to ask him if he was satisfied with the way his life went, he would tell you with no hesitation - a hearty YES. And, although he has Parkinson's, he still gets around quite well - mows his lawn in the summer and shovels their driveway in the winter - all 700 near-vertical feet of it. He still has a great sense of humor.... and looks at life as positively as he ever has.

My favorite photo of my dad - with his sailboat.

my photo

Somewhere in the distance I hear Jimmy Buffett singing -

"Some of it's magic, some of it's tragic - but I had a good life all the way."

Nothing Like Nature

It was a great day today! This is what you see when you drive 1/2 hr down the road from where we live.....only one of the several lakes in our area.

The day couldn't have been more perfect! It was fun visiting the lake where my mother, in 1947, flew in by float plane so she could give swim lessons to the daughter of the famous shoe store chain family. 

I don't think much has changed as far as scenery goes, but definitely the mode of transportation to the lake has! Now you can drive right to the lake whereas, when my mother was a teenager - you could only fly in. Or hike. Or take a horse.

By the way, that is a leaf floating on the water you see on the right bottom area of the picture....the water is that clear!



This is what the same lake looked like in the 1940s when my Mother was there:

This is a photo of my mother (far right) with the people that owned the log cabin up at the lake, and the little girl mom taught swimming lessons to:

This is the float plane my mother came in on :

1 comments:

 Frank Drackman says:

  Hey Nursie,

  I think we got off on the wrong foot. Nice blog, and your Mom
  was very attractive, and I mean that in an entirely non-creepy way.

  If you'd like to contribute to My Blog, drop me a line at
  Drackman62@hotmail.com. I'm all for opposing viewpoints, and
  won't censor or edit your posts to make you look silly, unless it
  contains Gay-Male Porn.
  Lesbian porn is perfectly acceptable.
  You could even be a permanent contributor if that floats your Float Plane:)
  and I Love Nurses, thats why I married one,
  I remain, your obedient Servant, oops, thats how I answer Mrs.Drackman,
  Frank Drackman

Retrospection

It is quite interesting when one becomes the caregiver of one's parents.   Not just the reversal of roles physically speaking - but often in the emotional areas too.

My dad and laundry, my leg at ther arrow

I was explaining to my mother while ironing dad's shirts, how much I hate ironing. My husband does all the necessary ironing in our house. A well pressed shirt is a thing of beauty to him.


Daily ironing of hundreds of pillowslips - among other chores - at our Family Resort, wrested any passion for ironing from me. We were kept cleaning units, doing the laundry, changing towels, cleaning campground washrooms, serving in the restaurant, preparing tables and doing dishes, etc - from sun up to sundown.
My mother replied - Well when I was 13 your Grandma sent all of us (there were 7 of them) out to work - I ironed all the shirts and did the cleaning at Mr and Mrs DeWitts' - and she kept all the money......we didn't get any of it. A titch of bitterness.

It took me a few more passes with the iron to think that one through.

Gently. Mom, how is that different from the work us girls had to do at the Resort, working from sun up to sundown and not getting paid at all? I was amused at the incongruity - It's not ok when it is done to you by your mother, but ok to do it to it when you are the mother.

I don't harbor any regrets or resentments about the way I grew up because if I hadn't worked as hard as I did, and had the experiences I did - I wouldn't have the work ethic I had, and I would not have appreciated Nursing quite as much.

As an LPN I can remember doing six 8 hour shifts in a row/two off and thinking.....oh, is that all? Only 8 hours of work? and I actually get days off and get to do what I want and meet with friends and have fun? AND - I actually get paid PLUS vacation time as well? I was thrilled. Nursing was a snap compared with working for one's own parents.

There are lots of things to appreciate about nursing. It gives you a different perspective on the life around you. You find yourself bossing around people 3 times your age - and they listen to you. Well, most of the time. You find yourself giving advice to friends and neighbors when requested - and they appreciate and give deference to your opinion. Nursing is still one of those respected professions, even though sometimes it may not seem like it in the micro workings of each day on a hospital unit.

People do trust you more than your average Joe. I have had very personal conversations with people in the community - people I hardly know - just because they discover I am a nurse. They reveal the most intimate details - invited or not. They have wanted to show me body parts and scars they would never have revealed otherwise in public. They talk to me about bowel movements, malfunctioning body parts and injuries - because I am a nurse. Last year as I was waiting for a follow-up visit in ER as a patient, a young mother handed me her sick baby to hold while she went to the restroom. You have to wonder sometimes at this blind confidence.

Most of all, at the risk of sounding schmaltzy, I would not have had the self respect and satisfaction with my life, knowing that I have made life a little better for those in my charge. At this point, I do believe I have contributed more than taken away in this world - in a small way - nothing worth headlines - but it makes me feel content - that I have done my best.

My Mother once told me that she wished she had gone into nursing - and that she always wanted to be a Nurse. This surprised me. She always worked hard - and didn't have it easy in the early days. But I know she is proud of what I chose as my profession....and somehow lives a little vicariously through some of the tidbits I throw her way (FOIPA- the US version of HIPAA - taken into consideration).

I hope my Mom finds some peace with her choices in life, as I have with mine.

Posted by Cartoon Characters at 10:04 AM 2 comments  (couldn’t retrieve  :(  )

Morning convo......................

My mother and I were discussing the methods of food preservation, spurred by one of the lovely blogs I read....I forget which one.....you know who you are......but anyway.....

I was giving her the interesting little nugget of how to keep bananas from going brown too early by breaking the bunch apart, and she decided to contribute one of her own from an old friend of hers:

"Mrs Flapchuck says if you use Saran wrap with your cheese and take all the air out it should keep.....but it has to be a new piece of wrap she says................."

Uh huh, mom. Ok. I won't reuse that wrap that I used last week for the chicken ......
Posted by Cartoon Characters at 9:02 AM


3 comments:
nurseXY said...
Haha, I know this is supposed to be funny, but my mom saves saran wrap. And aluminum foil, and the little styrofoam trays that meat comes on.

May 19, 2010 12:22 PM
A NURSE said...
NXY: does she recycle them or...? I am not sure about the trays that meat come on..... =^@

Actually when I read the story out loud to my mother...she said NO...a NEW PIECE OF WRAP EACH TIME....(as opposed to saving an old wrap from something else...) but since it's MY blog...I ain't changing it! ;) I liked the way my brain FIRST interpreted it...hahaha. Thanks for the read! :)
May 19, 2010 8:28 PM

A NURSE said...
ooohhh! Eureka! I found the blog that mentioned the banana thing....
http://mom-wife-student-nurse.blogspot.com/2010/04/household-tips-for-on-go-nursing.html
Thanks!! :)
May 23, 2010 10:41 AM