***BLEEP***

I totally just set my bangs I'm trying to grow out on fire lighting a cigarette on my gas stove burners.

Might be time to quit cigaretting.

Maggie Musings

The other day while dozing off on the couch, my dazed, pre-sleep brain was contemplating how to wrap my birthday presents for Phil.

At first, I was thinking to wrap them all separately... but then I had vague apprehensions along the lines of it maybe coming across as too much cuz I know he's not that into the whole birthday thing. But then, all sleepy and what-not I thought, "But if I put them all in the same box, and he shakes it, then something might break." But then another me countered, "You dork, nothing in that package is breakable!" Chimes another me, "But if I put an egg in it, THAT'D sure teach him to shake his birthday presents. Hehe... sucker."

Then I forgot all about Phil and his upcoming birthday, and got lost in wishes of having a friend who compulsively shook all of his/her presents. As a practical joke I would wrap a box with dozens of loose raw eggs in it, JUST so that when they shook it I could jump in and say, "AHA!! That'll teach YOU to try an' count your chickens before they're hatched!" And then I peacefully dozed off with a smile upon my lips.

Malt-O-Meal Party!!!

Today at the Vandenberg residence in Milwaukee the first documented Malt-O-Meal party was hosted with guest of honor, Maggie Gordon. Great times were had, Magic Muffins were consumed to excess, and the undisputed queen of Malt-O-Meal was crowned. I'd love to say more but you really just had to be here.

A Group Shot (Minus Camera Man!!)

Malt-O-Meal Malt... a surprisingly sweet treat

Suicidal Bunny Literature... for the socially responsible members of the party

The Spread

Magic Muffins! Betcha thought no one had ever made that recipe on the box...

Long Live the Queen!!!


For those of you wondering who came up with such an ingenious party-theme, and moreover are concerned for posterity's sake as to who to credit in the origin of this party, said individual remains disputed. It is clear that either Phil, or his sister Lil, came up with it when passing Miller brewery and noticing the distinct aroma of Malt-O-Meal originating from the complex. Whether it was Phil or Lil who suggested with a laugh that someone was having a Malt-O-Meal party, it remains undisputed that it was Phil who when discussing the stakes of a poker game suggested that the winner would be the reigning guest of honor at a Malt-O-Meal Party thrown in their honor. And this is the history of the first Malt-O-Meal Party, thrown in the honor of Maggie Gordon, the winner of said Sunday-night post-family-volleyball poker game.

If we both cut our hands, the same depth, the same length... whose will hurt more?

There's something that's been troubling me for quite some time now. Since I'm working on a predominantly (and technically) surgical floor, prior to surgery patients will commonly ask how much it will hurt afterward. And fair enough-- it's a legitimate concern when you're about to submit to a complete stranger cutting you open and fiddling with your insides. I usually give a safe and appropriate response which is that there will of course be pain, but that we're usually very good at keeping it under control with appropriate pain medications as ordered by their doctor. What they hear is they'll be drugged and not feel anything. But really what I mean is just that-- under control. Mitigated. Diminished. But not always (usually?) eliminated. There will be pain. How much? I have no clue. I've never experienced it. And even if I had, I still couldn't tell you. I understand why people insist on asking about something so ridiculously subjective and relative, but why do they insist on asking about something so ridiculously subjective and relative?

I don't mean to be insensitive. But removed from the situation of another person in distress or pain, the sensitivity feelings don't come so readily. I'm a reactive person. And there's no stimuli to react to right now. I'm just trying to be upfront about a tricky topic called pain. And pain straight up sucks to begin with: and it's a nightmare when you get all emotional about it.

But back to my troubling. One thing I've pretty much universally observed is that young people are way more intolerant of any shadow of pain than older adults. A 90 year old wisp of an old lady can have the exact same surgery as a prime, sturdy 28 year old man, and yet she'll be smiling and thanking you, and he'll be sobbing and using you as his verbal whipping-boy, hating to his core every fraction of your being simply for being present and a representative of the institution that has traumatized his innards (despite the necessity, and overlooked life-preserving qualities of the procedure). And then of course later on when he's at the max dose of vicodin and a morphine drip he'll still be whimpering, though pretending his earlier abuse never happened.

Now my question about that is this: Do younger people in general just have lower pain thresholds due to higher physical sensitivity (pain receptors presumably encounter some degree of deteriorating with age like the rest of the body), greater general use/abuse of pain killers, or what have you, or are they just more self-consumed and less capable of gratitude towards others or being aware of themselves as being part of something bigger, rather than a whole unto themselves?

Don't get me wrong. Gratitude is not a requisite for me at work as a caregiver. Most of the time I couldn't care less; it makes my job easier on a personal level, but doesn't change all that much in terms of what I do or what I need to say. I have to set more boundaries with ungrateful people-- mainly because they tend to be more abusive and needy to their detriment. But I still need to do the same things regardless of their attitude, because that's my job. I have clearly defined responsibilities and standards of care. (Ugh. When will I stop "being careful" and feeling the need to explain myself when talking about this stuff. WHEN will my readers stop doubting my professionalism!! ;))

But that being said, does anyone else see how ingratitude and being self-consumed, self-pitying, could play into this whole pain relativity thing? It just sets the standards so high, and therefore the pain threshold so low. If that makes any sense. But yeah. Just something I was wondering about in relation to how older adults are so much more capable of handling pain than younger adults. The more I observe it, the more it seems like it's not just a matter of the physical (pain receptors, drug ineffectiveness due to overexposure), but a matter of attitude. And well, older people in general just seemed to have learned that there's more to the world then themselves and their tribulations, and reflect that in their attitude-- not just their attitude towards others, but their attitude when thinking about and perceiving themselves in the context of that greater world.

A two-fold point.

The other day Flatlander mentioned a post I wrote over a year ago. Looking at it again and thinking of that time in my life really brought a lot of memories back. I miss this blog. Back when I was living in my parents basement, going to school, and working at the nursing home, when I wanted to post on the blog I would go outside, smoke a cigarette, reflect on my day, and identify 1-3 things I'd been thinking about or of note that happened that day. Then I'd retreat back to my cave in the basement, sit down in front of the computer and write about them. Easy-breezy.

I miss that luxury.

Looking after my own home and overscheduling to the point of insanity has left me shell-shocked and brainless. Well not brainless, but it's hard to make my brain delight about something random or reflect on something past for more than 5 minutes any more before I start reviewing what I need to do in the future. And that's a crying shame.

After of summer of recuperation and just recently getting to a point where I'm comfortable with my routine of JUST holding a FT job at the hospital and looking after daily cooking/cleaning necessities, I have to admit that I have fleeting regrets that I haven't made recreational writing more of a habit again while I had the time to. And now school is starting again. Granted, at a much lesser rate as I'm only taking one 7-credit clinical, but it's still a good 12 hours of face time between lectures and clinicals at the hospital, plus all the papers, projects, readings, and prep that goes with it. Plus 40 hours of work a week. Planning out my schedule I was somewhat horrified that THIS was cutting back. What was I thinking last semester.

At any rate. The point I wanted to make is two-fold: one, I want to blog more because it's good for me. It makes me reflect. It decreases worrying and anxiety because the focus is on the past and present, not the future (except this post). And that's good. That's healthy. And two, .... Okay, there isn't really a two. Twofold points sound more impressive, though... so... right. I'll try again: And two, please feel free to harass me if I'm not posting enough. Man... writing socially in a coherent manner is harder than I remember...

Thank you for your time. I look forward to hearing from you.