lost in Oregon (Illinois...)

Last week was crazyhorrible. One of our PT's was on vacation and shifted all her patients to me. Normally, that would rock my world because she has a dedicated group of patients. The only problem is she works with very specific and difficult to treat patient demographic and she left me absolutely NO clues as to what to do with them. I felt like the biggest bumbling idiot on the planet. I worked with them as best I could and gave them all pretty damn good sessions, if I may say so. Even if my heart was beating like mad and I was scared out of my mind that they would ask me questions that I couldn't answer. Then to top it all off, I got a call from the meanest doctor at Aurora and proceeded to make me feel two inches tall because the PT that was on vacation had not given a patient enough home exercises. This chick was also a patient of mine for one visit and cancelled all the rest of the sessions with me for various BS reasons. Yeah, I couldn't do as much as I'd like to have done with her, but she was two weeks out from surgery and the sutures hadn't healed yet....and she was in a world of hurt with everything I did with her. I'd really like to know how this other therapist did scar mobs on an OPEN FUCKING WOUND, because that's what she documented in the chart. Plus, this patient needed late time slots which are SO hard to come by because there's only a few of us there late and a lot of people need to come after work, so we couldn't get her in as often as the doctor wanted.
I was so freaked to be talking to this doctor that my mind went blank. She asked who I was and she said 'I want to talk to the Physical Therapist' like I didn't matter. all I could muster was to tell her that this patient cancelled many of her appointments and she said 'honey, do you want to know the truth? she doesn't want to work with you. But that's not your fault'. What the hell is that supposed to mean?? I was in such a foul mood for the rest of the night and most of the next day. If this patient had a problem with me, she could have come right out and said it instead of making up lame ass excuses. Plus I'd really like to know what I did wrong, because she acted just fine with me while I was working with her.
It's done and over with now, thank god.

Last Friday night, I spent the evening celebrating my Grandpa's 80th birthday, along with my Dad's side of the family (which I see maybe once a year, if that). My Grandma was glowing. All her grandchildren were there.
It's strange. All these people that are a part of my family, yet I don't feel a part of it. The only one I'm comfortable talking to is my cousin Erin, who is two years younger than me. I can remember at my 8th or so birthday party...all we ever did was make our barbie and ken dolls have sex (that's what happens when you grow up with the one and only Jason Stephany) (that and your parents are practically rabbits for crying out loud. 'girls, go take Mindy for another walk, ok?'). Then in high school we had Ceramics class together. good times.
Now she's going to Parkside, wanting to switch to Gateway so she can get on with her life in a few years. She said things that were exactly what I was thinking when I made the decision to not do the traditional college thing. I hope I gave her some good advice. Mostly 'fuck everybody else and do what's good for you'. I'm sure she'll be fine. She's much stronger than I'll ever be. After dinner, I showed my Grandparents my new car, held my breath as I watched my Grandpa's horrible balance while getting into the car. Parkinsons is a horrible disease, people. I hate not being able to help him, and they refuse to go into formal therapy so experienced people that have worked with this diagnosis can help him. Just a few years ago he had heart bypass surgery and went through tons of cardiac therapy (which is total horseshit, if you ask me. all they do is slap heart monitors on them and make them walk on treadmills for an hour, 4 times a week) which sent their medical bills sky high and don't want to add to it. But really, if he'd stop drinking so damn much his balance would be a hell of a lot better...
Then it was off to the vast and terrifying place of ice fields and tundra. no. not Greenland, silly. Illinois! I got to Eric's house pretty friggin late but yet managed to stop by a Walmart-esque store that had a 9 foot tall Hagrid and a shorter Boba Fett made out of legos. I had to practically run past the halloween stuff to avoid buying anything...they had these really awesome Clockwork Orange fake eyelashes and other great potential Rocky Horror gear.
We headed out to Stronghold Faire the next morning. Had one of those crazy pancake breakfast sandwiches at McDonalds. I just don't get it.
My exitement to be at another faire and see my friends again grew a million times over when I walked into the lodge full of rennies. I immediately saw Greg "Robin Hood/Sea Dog" Larson making omlettes in the kitchen and happily whisting along to the Pirates of the Caribbean soundtrack. I was home.
The weekend overall was perfect. Both days had great weather. The dance sets went really well (we had an audience) and I learned to sword dance finally. I got to see some people that I hadn't seen since Bristol closed. Mostly people I actually wanted to see, like AE, Steve Schroeder, Steffen and much of fight cast. With that came people I didn't want to see, mainly Randy and his fiancee. They were performing with court I assume, yet came to nearly every dance set and managed to show up everywhere I was. It really wasn't that bad until Saturday night's dinner. They just *had* to come with our group and just *had* to sit directly across from me at the table. I was so upset I lost my appetite. I was screaming on the inside for an hour and a half. I tried my best to look at anything else to avoid eye contact. Two good things came out of this dinner that made me laugh my ass of on the inside: (1). Randy proceeded to make his fiancee pay for dinner (CHEAP ASS FUCKWIT!!!) and (2). sitting next to them was Jon's girlfriend (that he had to flip a f*$#@ing coin to decide between her and me) spent most of the meal saying things like 'I totally wore the pants in that relationship' and 'I couldn't stand him anymore'. I asked Randy if he interviewed with the forest service people since Bristol was over like he had planned, and he said no. He's going to be a waiter at Medieval Times for a long long time. It still blows my mind that a 32 year old can get by without a bank account. Or a brain, for that matter.
After dinner, Becky, Eric, Stacy, Brent and I visited the 30 foot high statue of Blackhawk and walked around the site for a while. I was still reeling from dinner and wanted to scream at the top of my lungs or burst out in tears. I chose the latter and sat down in a dark corner of the park. It wasn't even about him. I have this phrase echoing in my head every time I see/think of him. If I can't make it with Randy, I can't make it with anyone.
They all soon found me and took me back to the lodge. I felt a little better after downing a few White Russians and talking to Steve and Becky by the bonfire. The next day went well, I especially loved the musician's revel in the castle. It felt good to sing "Bring on the Starlight" again.
Well, that's all for now. Here's the digital pictures I took this weekend. It was nice to whip out my camera without fear. And walk around with a can of coke.
(Stonghold 2003)

lost in Oregon (Illinois...)

Last week was crazyhorrible. One of our PT's was on vacation and shifted all her patients to me. Normally, that would rock my world because she has a dedicated group of patients. The only problem is she works with very specific and difficult to treat patient demographic and she left me absolutely NO clues as to what to do with them. I felt like the biggest bumbling idiot on the planet. I worked with them as best I could and gave them all pretty damn good sessions, if I may say so. Even if my heart was beating like mad and I was scared out of my mind that they would ask me questions that I couldn't answer. Then to top it all off, I got a call from the meanest doctor at Aurora and proceeded to make me feel two inches tall because the PT that was on vacation had not given a patient enough home exercises. This chick was also a patient of mine for one visit and cancelled all the rest of the sessions with me for various BS reasons. Yeah, I couldn't do as much as I'd like to have done with her, but she was two weeks out from surgery and the sutures hadn't healed yet....and she was in a world of hurt with everything I did with her. I'd really like to know how this other therapist did scar mobs on an OPEN FUCKING WOUND, because that's what she documented in the chart. Plus, this patient needed late time slots which are SO hard to come by because there's only a few of us there late and a lot of people need to come after work, so we couldn't get her in as often as the doctor wanted.
I was so freaked to be talking to this doctor that my mind went blank. She asked who I was and she said 'I want to talk to the Physical Therapist' like I didn't matter. all I could muster was to tell her that this patient cancelled many of her appointments and she said 'honey, do you want to know the truth? she doesn't want to work with you. But that's not your fault'. What the hell is that supposed to mean?? I was in such a foul mood for the rest of the night and most of the next day. If this patient had a problem with me, she could have come right out and said it instead of making up lame ass excuses. Plus I'd really like to know what I did wrong, because she acted just fine with me while I was working with her.
It's done and over with now, thank god.

Last Friday night, I spent the evening celebrating my Grandpa's 80th birthday, along with my Dad's side of the family (which I see maybe once a year, if that). My Grandma was glowing. All her grandchildren were there.
It's strange. All these people that are a part of my family, yet I don't feel a part of it. The only one I'm comfortable talking to is my cousin Erin, who is two years younger than me. I can remember at my 8th or so birthday party...all we ever did was make our barbie and ken dolls have sex (that's what happens when you grow up with the one and only Jason Stephany) (that and your parents are practically rabbits for crying out loud. 'girls, go take Mindy for another walk, ok?'). Then in high school we had Ceramics class together. good times.
Now she's going to Parkside, wanting to switch to Gateway so she can get on with her life in a few years. She said things that were exactly what I was thinking when I made the decision to not do the traditional college thing. I hope I gave her some good advice. Mostly 'fuck everybody else and do what's good for you'. I'm sure she'll be fine. She's much stronger than I'll ever be. After dinner, I showed my Grandparents my new car, held my breath as I watched my Grandpa's horrible balance while getting into the car. Parkinsons is a horrible disease, people. I hate not being able to help him, and they refuse to go into formal therapy so experienced people that have worked with this diagnosis can help him. Just a few years ago he had heart bypass surgery and went through tons of cardiac therapy (which is total horseshit, if you ask me. all they do is slap heart monitors on them and make them walk on treadmills for an hour, 4 times a week) which sent their medical bills sky high and don't want to add to it. But really, if he'd stop drinking so damn much his balance would be a hell of a lot better...
Then it was off to the vast and terrifying place of ice fields and tundra. no. not Greenland, silly. Illinois! I got to Eric's house pretty friggin late but yet managed to stop by a Walmart-esque store that had a 9 foot tall Hagrid and a shorter Boba Fett made out of legos. I had to practically run past the halloween stuff to avoid buying anything...they had these really awesome Clockwork Orange fake eyelashes and other great potential Rocky Horror gear.
We headed out to Stronghold Faire the next morning. Had one of those crazy pancake breakfast sandwiches at McDonalds. I just don't get it.
My exitement to be at another faire and see my friends again grew a million times over when I walked into the lodge full of rennies. I immediately saw Greg "Robin Hood/Sea Dog" Larson making omlettes in the kitchen and happily whisting along to the Pirates of the Caribbean soundtrack. I was home.
The weekend overall was perfect. Both days had great weather. The dance sets went really well (we had an audience) and I learned to sword dance finally. I got to see some people that I hadn't seen since Bristol closed. Mostly people I actually wanted to see, like AE, Steve Schroeder, Steffen and much of fight cast. With that came people I didn't want to see, mainly Randy and his fiancee. They were performing with court I assume, yet came to nearly every dance set and managed to show up everywhere I was. It really wasn't that bad until Saturday night's dinner. They just *had* to come with our group and just *had* to sit directly across from me at the table. I was so upset I lost my appetite. I was screaming on the inside for an hour and a half. I tried my best to look at anything else to avoid eye contact. Two good things came out of this dinner that made me laugh my ass of on the inside: (1). Randy proceeded to make his fiancee pay for dinner (CHEAP ASS FUCKWIT!!!) and (2). sitting next to them was Jon's girlfriend (that he had to flip a f*$#@ing coin to decide between her and me) spent most of the meal saying things like 'I totally wore the pants in that relationship' and 'I couldn't stand him anymore'. I asked Randy if he interviewed with the forest service people since Bristol was over like he had planned, and he said no. He's going to be a waiter at Medieval Times for a long long time. It still blows my mind that a 32 year old can get by without a bank account. Or a brain, for that matter.
After dinner, Becky, Eric, Stacy, Brent and I visited the 30 foot high statue of Blackhawk and walked around the site for a while. I was still reeling from dinner and wanted to scream at the top of my lungs or burst out in tears. I chose the latter and sat down in a dark corner of the park. It wasn't even about him. I have this phrase echoing in my head every time I see/think of him. If I can't make it with Randy, I can't make it with anyone.
They all soon found me and took me back to the lodge. I felt a little better after downing a few White Russians and talking to Steve and Becky by the bonfire. The next day went well, I especially loved the musician's revel in the castle. It felt good to sing "Bring on the Starlight" again.
Well, that's all for now. Here's the digital pictures I took this weekend. It was nice to whip out my camera without fear. And walk around with a can of coke.
(Stonghold 2003)