I really have issue with eyebrows and facial hair. Seriously, I seem to have this bizarre and completely inappropriate inner dialogue regarding other women's eyebrows and facial hair. I know that I should not care about what other women do with their facial hair and eyebrows. Other than giving me a good case of the heebie jeebies and to wonder what makes her go out of the house like that? I should be unconcerned and simply look away. Other women's appearances are none of my business. However, like any good accident, this behavior fascinates me.
Let me share. First lets talk about eyebrow tattoos. I can see the necessity for a well drawn and tasteful eyebrow tattoo. Something that enhances the eye and brings about the beauty of the overall face. What I do not understand is the Grocho Marks tattoo eyebrow or the angry clown expression eyebrow. They look as, if they are drawn on with a black sharpie. I think why? What ever possessed this person to place this on her face. Forever. Of course, then there is the surprise eyebrow look. This is a thin line that goes way up on the forehead over the eyebrow line. It looks like the baby clown from the early 1900's. This is yet another one that leaves me looking at the women with a look of quandary and fascination.
I suppose I could look past crazy eyebrow ladies. At least these women make an effort and seem to care about their appearance. If I could get past not grooming your eyebrows or facial hair at all. The uni brow, or the caterpillar bush brow. These are very interesting. There is the bearded ladies and mustache girls. Some women make an effort and bleach their facial hair. As if, bleaching it makes it invisible. Sorry, this does not make it so.
I truly can understand not having enough time or wanting to be all natural. In theory I get it. However, something deep inside me is so anti body hair that I just want to take a pair of tweezers and begin to start tweezing as soon as I see someone with a bushy brow or a hairy lip. Its almost visceral, it runs so deep. I can't help it. I find myself staring at the offending brow, or hairy lip. I want to turn away...I do. I just can't. This is why I do not carry tweezers with me.
I realize I have issues and there is no true help for me but the next time you see some one with angry eyebrows or a hairy chin...I dare you...Yes. I double dog dare you...to not want to pluck that chin hair or giggle at the those sharpie brows.
Saturday, February 28, 2015
Friday, February 27, 2015
Spock
I know that he never new me and I never knew him. Yet, he is gone from our world. This man that played a part called Spock. His name was Leonard Nimoy.
I usually do not hold actors in any high regard. I guess my reasoning is that I can't get past the reading other peoples words and being paid higher wages than what anyone should ever be paid for such a thing. Yet, this actor played a part that shaped the way I would feel about men for the rest of my life. Yes, you read that right.
This actor played a part in a Science Fiction series called Star Trek that first aired in the 1960's. He played a Vulcan, a being from another world, who was also half human. His Character's people did not let emotion rule their lives and lived by logic. He struggled with his human side and his natural tendencies to be emotional.
Even though Spock was very stoic and logical he was truly the heart of this show and you had to love him. I fell in love with Spock, as I watched him on late night TV in the late 1970's and throughout the 1980's. I was so infatuated with him just like Dr McCoy's Nurse, Chapel. Instead of posters of Hair Bands or some Teen Beat Boy, I had a poster of Spock. I was in love with Spock because he was smarter than everyone else and he used logic to solve his problems and in the end his heart.
When I met my current Husband, my breath was taken away because he looked just enough like the character of Spock that my heart skipped a beat. As I got to know my Husband, I learned that he was just enough like Spock in his logical thinking and incredible brain that I was his without much effort on his part. What can I say, I am a sucker for a smart guy. My Husband is so very very smart (stops to fan herself).
I will miss this actor who played Spock in the Star Trek Series Show and all the Movies that generated...well....generations of amazing Science Fiction. I say thank you to him for forming my thoughts on what a good man is. Even if that good man was only fiction. At least I knew in my heart what I needed and God led me to him.
That probably sounds so dorky. I know that if I was reading this, I would say Teri you need therapy STAT! I probably do. I just know that Spock and the Actor that played him made me happy and I will miss him. That the Character Spock helped me realize what I needed in a Man and a Husband and its what I have. I am a completely flighty and silly person most of the time that needs a grounded and logical mate. There have been stranger things.
God Speed to you Leonard Nimoy and good journeys to your time in Paradise. Thank you for your craft and Thank you for being Spock and letting me crush on your Spock.
Thursday, February 26, 2015
I have one follower. I love you one follower. I love my 124 readers of my two posts. Whomever you are. Thank you for reading my new blog. Apparently, I can take out adds. Who knew? I am undecided as to take out blog adds or not. I think that I might wait until I have more than one follower. Lets say at least 100 followers before I take out an add. Just seems about right. I can set a budget of any amount I want. There are so many choices. I kinda got a giggle out of google asking bloggers for credit card info and taking out adds. As if.
Anyway, no add for this baby blogger. Not yet anyway. It seems a bit much and a bit to soon.
Anyway, no add for this baby blogger. Not yet anyway. It seems a bit much and a bit to soon.
A Disneyland Story
So A story...
A long time ago I lived in Orange County and decided I would audition for the Character Department at Disneyland. This was in the Early 1980's and I was just a kid.
The audition started as a basic cattle call and I was later told there were 500 people there. I will never forget the young man in leg warmers, yes I just used the word leg warmers in a sentence. He jumped up on a stage with a flourish and quieted us all down so we could learn our audition dance routine. It was a basic eight count of eight routine. I really am no professional dancer and I have no real dancer lingo but that is what I called what he taught us. Anyway, he showed us the dance. Then we had one time to learn it and we all followed him as he called out the moves in slow motion and danced facing away so we could mirror him. He did this one time. He then counted out us in groups of fifty.
We had about ten minutes outside of the audition hall or what was used to be called the parade rehearsal building. I think that is what it was called. This was a long time ago and I am old now. It looked like a giant metal barn. I was very thankful that I was not in the first group because I needed all the time I could get to make sure I had those dance moves down.
There were some really good dancers in my group and we practiced together. I think they felt sorry for me. I was really regretting my choice of wardrobe. I was wearing matching peach shorts that went to my mid-thigh and a t-shirt that was, of course a lighter shade of peach that had cap sleeves. My socks...um peach that were ankle socks and my shoes...do not kill me... were white ladies tennis shoes. My hair was hair bear styled and parted in the middle. I looked around at all the other dancer's and they were wearing basically nothing. Ballet clothing or 80's work out clothes. I looked like a church lady. All the girls had on false eye lashes and big 80's make up. I had on a fresh face with lip gloss. I was feeling the ugly duckling in a world of swans. I was thinking there is no way I am ever making this audition. Then some hot barley clothed gorgeous girl would do a kick up to her eyeball in front of me. Yep...I am doomed.
Anyway, it was my groups time to audition. I made sure I was front and center. Me and my peachiness. I looked at the Judges, made eye contact and did my best I have been a cheerleader since birth look and danced like I would be killed, if I didn't do it perfect. At the end of this very short dance, they lined us up in a row and that leg warmer guy went down the row and picked a bunch of folks, me not being one of them and had them step out. a lot of them were the hot girls in my group and the really good dancers. They were all excited and jumping around. Then leg warmer guy said thank you and told them to go home. I was like what? I get to stay?
After that, leg warmer guy kept doing the same thing. He would re-group us into smaller and smaller groups and then we would keep auditioning over and over again. Finally there was about fifty of us left. That is when, they asked us to come back the next day.
I came back the next day. I decided to wear a very similar outfit but all in pink. I like pink. There was no way I was going to go all slut girl and get thrown out. I show up and realize there are about five girls left in the audition and the rest are all boys. I have no clue as to why. I look at the girls and they are all fresh faced and all of them are so beautiful. I mean perfect. I am thinking what the hell am I doing here? Do they need one ugly girl to compare these beauties to?
We do the routine again. More people are asked to leave. There are only three girls left. Then they bring out a few character costumes. We put on heads and some of the bodies. That sounds weird. The character heads and character bodies. Then they have us do the routine again. More people are asked to leave. Then we are asked to do impromptu stuff. Basically just be silly. More people are cut. It is down to 25 people. They took pictures of all of us. I saw that picture a few years later. I was all squinty. It was a bad picture.
At this point they take the only other girl away and she is doing some stuff with wigs. Then they take me and interview me over and over. They do the interview stuff with the rest of the folks. The whole time there are a lot of folks that keep looking at me. I mean looking at me. It was kinda creepy. At the time I had this mole on my nose. It was a small tiny mole. I never thought it was important or worthy of notice. Apparently it was.
I was sent home and told I would receive a telephone call within three days as to whether I would have made the audition or not. I waited by the phone. I didn't have to wait long. I was called the next day and offered a job as a Disneyland Character. I had no idea what that meant or how special that was but I was really happy about it.
After all the audition and fuss and muss, I found out that there was only 15 people that made the cattle call. I think that there was only 15 people. Anyway, that is what I was told or what I remember. There was the girl that had tired on all the wigs and me. We were the only girls who made it in our group. I asked her about that at our orientation. She said that they had thought she could be a "face Part" or Snow White or Cinderella or something. I said really? How cool is that. She told me she wasn't pretty enough. I said well, I didn't even get to try on any wigs. I get to hide behind the masks. Don't want to scare any children with this face do we...HA HA. I hoped I made her feel better.
I loved my time at Disneyland. I made the best friends there. People I still talk to almost daily. Some of my fondest memories are from my experiences there. I think the best take away I have from my time there is the ability to watch how people behave towards you from behind a mask.
Some people (I mean adults) get so excited to see their favorite cartoon "Star" and believe that they are friends with this toon that really does not exist. They run up to a person who is essentially in a sleeping bag and a helmet and hug them and tell them how excited they are to meet them. Take their picture with them and ask for an autograph. I have had grown women feel me up to make sure I was a man and then once in their minds I was a "man" ask me to meet them later for a date. So...so....creeper. I have see adults push their children into my space... who do not want to see or be near this scary tall fury thing and are screaming at the top of their lungs and then force their child to be with something that terrifies them. I will never understood that. All this happens, when you cannot speak and basically have to just stand there and take it. It is not like you can rip off your character head and give lessons on parenting or basic manners. It was part of the job to keep the magic alive for everyone no matter how vile the guest was.
Then there is the pure joy. Of the children who are in wonder that the animated character that they love is standing right before them and they can touch them... be with them. They are blown away that this is real and happening. They hug you with their whole heart and it is magic and you can feel it. You look over and their parents are smiling and are so happy that their child is glowing and in a moment of wonderment. This is priceless. The little boy or girl who asks you to please sign his autograph book. Is such a wonderful thing. The word please is a gift that was rarely heard. When a child was scared, the parents who stood back and just let that child look from a far and did not push their child into something he or she was not ready for. This also was a rare moment. I loved the babies and children. If I could have just had them, I would still be working at Disney today.
I could go on and on about the crowds and how scary that first summer really was. Then you get used to it. You learn and then you enjoy it and become a better person for it. Well, at least my heart and soul became a better person for it. I learned patience and tolerance. I learned to forgive people for everything. You just had to. Once you have been felt up 50 or so times a day by excited female guests you stop asking why and just forgive them and go with it. The families of twenty or so folks from other countries who rush you and basically are so excited to see you and beat the hell out of you in their frenzy you end up forgiving and let it go. Bruises and all. They just want a picture of their friend. I rolled my eyes a lot in my character head and prayed to whatever God would listen to me for help that I would not deck someone. I never did deck anyone so my prayers were answered.
I am sure I broke some character rules today by talking about being a character. We were always told to keep it a secret to keep the magic alive. Things are different now. People are different now. The Character department is different now. The Park is different now. There used to be 50 people in our department and the Park was closed on Monday and Tuesday in the winter months. Not anymore folks.
Like I said. It was a special experience and time in my life and I am glad to share it with you. I hope you enjoyed it and that the next time you go to the Park with your babies you will let them just be in the moment with their special character friends. Its not all about the picture. Its about that one magic moment that will forever be in your child's memory and heart. Let them have that one special tic of time. Take the picture of your child reaching for Goofy and Goofy reaching back instead of the pose of everyone facing the camera. Try it. You just might like it.
A long time ago I lived in Orange County and decided I would audition for the Character Department at Disneyland. This was in the Early 1980's and I was just a kid.
The audition started as a basic cattle call and I was later told there were 500 people there. I will never forget the young man in leg warmers, yes I just used the word leg warmers in a sentence. He jumped up on a stage with a flourish and quieted us all down so we could learn our audition dance routine. It was a basic eight count of eight routine. I really am no professional dancer and I have no real dancer lingo but that is what I called what he taught us. Anyway, he showed us the dance. Then we had one time to learn it and we all followed him as he called out the moves in slow motion and danced facing away so we could mirror him. He did this one time. He then counted out us in groups of fifty.
We had about ten minutes outside of the audition hall or what was used to be called the parade rehearsal building. I think that is what it was called. This was a long time ago and I am old now. It looked like a giant metal barn. I was very thankful that I was not in the first group because I needed all the time I could get to make sure I had those dance moves down.
There were some really good dancers in my group and we practiced together. I think they felt sorry for me. I was really regretting my choice of wardrobe. I was wearing matching peach shorts that went to my mid-thigh and a t-shirt that was, of course a lighter shade of peach that had cap sleeves. My socks...um peach that were ankle socks and my shoes...do not kill me... were white ladies tennis shoes. My hair was hair bear styled and parted in the middle. I looked around at all the other dancer's and they were wearing basically nothing. Ballet clothing or 80's work out clothes. I looked like a church lady. All the girls had on false eye lashes and big 80's make up. I had on a fresh face with lip gloss. I was feeling the ugly duckling in a world of swans. I was thinking there is no way I am ever making this audition. Then some hot barley clothed gorgeous girl would do a kick up to her eyeball in front of me. Yep...I am doomed.
Anyway, it was my groups time to audition. I made sure I was front and center. Me and my peachiness. I looked at the Judges, made eye contact and did my best I have been a cheerleader since birth look and danced like I would be killed, if I didn't do it perfect. At the end of this very short dance, they lined us up in a row and that leg warmer guy went down the row and picked a bunch of folks, me not being one of them and had them step out. a lot of them were the hot girls in my group and the really good dancers. They were all excited and jumping around. Then leg warmer guy said thank you and told them to go home. I was like what? I get to stay?
After that, leg warmer guy kept doing the same thing. He would re-group us into smaller and smaller groups and then we would keep auditioning over and over again. Finally there was about fifty of us left. That is when, they asked us to come back the next day.
I came back the next day. I decided to wear a very similar outfit but all in pink. I like pink. There was no way I was going to go all slut girl and get thrown out. I show up and realize there are about five girls left in the audition and the rest are all boys. I have no clue as to why. I look at the girls and they are all fresh faced and all of them are so beautiful. I mean perfect. I am thinking what the hell am I doing here? Do they need one ugly girl to compare these beauties to?
We do the routine again. More people are asked to leave. There are only three girls left. Then they bring out a few character costumes. We put on heads and some of the bodies. That sounds weird. The character heads and character bodies. Then they have us do the routine again. More people are asked to leave. Then we are asked to do impromptu stuff. Basically just be silly. More people are cut. It is down to 25 people. They took pictures of all of us. I saw that picture a few years later. I was all squinty. It was a bad picture.
At this point they take the only other girl away and she is doing some stuff with wigs. Then they take me and interview me over and over. They do the interview stuff with the rest of the folks. The whole time there are a lot of folks that keep looking at me. I mean looking at me. It was kinda creepy. At the time I had this mole on my nose. It was a small tiny mole. I never thought it was important or worthy of notice. Apparently it was.
I was sent home and told I would receive a telephone call within three days as to whether I would have made the audition or not. I waited by the phone. I didn't have to wait long. I was called the next day and offered a job as a Disneyland Character. I had no idea what that meant or how special that was but I was really happy about it.
After all the audition and fuss and muss, I found out that there was only 15 people that made the cattle call. I think that there was only 15 people. Anyway, that is what I was told or what I remember. There was the girl that had tired on all the wigs and me. We were the only girls who made it in our group. I asked her about that at our orientation. She said that they had thought she could be a "face Part" or Snow White or Cinderella or something. I said really? How cool is that. She told me she wasn't pretty enough. I said well, I didn't even get to try on any wigs. I get to hide behind the masks. Don't want to scare any children with this face do we...HA HA. I hoped I made her feel better.
I loved my time at Disneyland. I made the best friends there. People I still talk to almost daily. Some of my fondest memories are from my experiences there. I think the best take away I have from my time there is the ability to watch how people behave towards you from behind a mask.
Some people (I mean adults) get so excited to see their favorite cartoon "Star" and believe that they are friends with this toon that really does not exist. They run up to a person who is essentially in a sleeping bag and a helmet and hug them and tell them how excited they are to meet them. Take their picture with them and ask for an autograph. I have had grown women feel me up to make sure I was a man and then once in their minds I was a "man" ask me to meet them later for a date. So...so....creeper. I have see adults push their children into my space... who do not want to see or be near this scary tall fury thing and are screaming at the top of their lungs and then force their child to be with something that terrifies them. I will never understood that. All this happens, when you cannot speak and basically have to just stand there and take it. It is not like you can rip off your character head and give lessons on parenting or basic manners. It was part of the job to keep the magic alive for everyone no matter how vile the guest was.
Then there is the pure joy. Of the children who are in wonder that the animated character that they love is standing right before them and they can touch them... be with them. They are blown away that this is real and happening. They hug you with their whole heart and it is magic and you can feel it. You look over and their parents are smiling and are so happy that their child is glowing and in a moment of wonderment. This is priceless. The little boy or girl who asks you to please sign his autograph book. Is such a wonderful thing. The word please is a gift that was rarely heard. When a child was scared, the parents who stood back and just let that child look from a far and did not push their child into something he or she was not ready for. This also was a rare moment. I loved the babies and children. If I could have just had them, I would still be working at Disney today.
I could go on and on about the crowds and how scary that first summer really was. Then you get used to it. You learn and then you enjoy it and become a better person for it. Well, at least my heart and soul became a better person for it. I learned patience and tolerance. I learned to forgive people for everything. You just had to. Once you have been felt up 50 or so times a day by excited female guests you stop asking why and just forgive them and go with it. The families of twenty or so folks from other countries who rush you and basically are so excited to see you and beat the hell out of you in their frenzy you end up forgiving and let it go. Bruises and all. They just want a picture of their friend. I rolled my eyes a lot in my character head and prayed to whatever God would listen to me for help that I would not deck someone. I never did deck anyone so my prayers were answered.
I am sure I broke some character rules today by talking about being a character. We were always told to keep it a secret to keep the magic alive. Things are different now. People are different now. The Character department is different now. The Park is different now. There used to be 50 people in our department and the Park was closed on Monday and Tuesday in the winter months. Not anymore folks.
Like I said. It was a special experience and time in my life and I am glad to share it with you. I hope you enjoyed it and that the next time you go to the Park with your babies you will let them just be in the moment with their special character friends. Its not all about the picture. Its about that one magic moment that will forever be in your child's memory and heart. Let them have that one special tic of time. Take the picture of your child reaching for Goofy and Goofy reaching back instead of the pose of everyone facing the camera. Try it. You just might like it.
Wednesday, February 25, 2015
Just a little bit about me and this blog
Hi Everyone
This is my first real blog. I come to the blog world basically kicking, screaming and dragging my feet. I started to spout off on Facebook about one silly thing or another and my friends on Facebook seemed to really like all the crap that was tossing up on my wall. I honestly have never seen the appeal to anything I have ever written but I guess there must be something to a few words here and there.
Anyway, this blog is where I find myself today, writing this Blog. I ask myself what does one write in a blog? Are there subjects that you choose? Not really sure about this whole blog thing but I will give it a good old try.
I promised to tell you a little about me first before I begin this little blog. I am just an average everyday person. I am married and not for the first time. I am on my second marriage. I am pretty sure that is about normal for these days and times. My second husband and I have a solid marriage and decent life. I actually like him and am pretty sure he likes me. I have a one grown up daughter from my first marriage that my second husband helped me raise. She has turned out just fine.
I became a nurse early on in my life and I found it to be a very satisfying career. I started out working in Labor and Delivery. Bringing new life into the world was wonderful for a while, then it got boring. I learned early on that the baby would eventually come out. One way or another....The baby would deliver. It always did. So, I ended up in the Operating Room and I found the best place for this nurse to be.
Enough about me, lets start this blog.
So...I will start with a story Just like I have started on almost every Facebook post. My first day as a Labor and Delivery Nurse was an experience. I was pretty young and really long hair that I loved to wear all flowing and styled. I was excited to be wearing those Hospital pink scrubs that they used to make Labor Nurses wear back in the day. I thought I was a smoking hot nurse. Not.
Since I knew nothing about being a Labor Nurse and it seemed that everyone one in the Hospital I was employed at was having a baby on my current shift my training turned into baptism by fire. We were laboring women in the halls on gurneys, in chairs and in Labor rooms. I am sure, if we could have had bunk beds in the rooms, we would have done that as well. It was, if the babies were popping out the ceiling. I was more than overwhelmed.
The charge Nurse had instructed me to go out to the front lobby and fetch a first time mother and bring her back to the Labor unit. Apparently she was making all sorts of noise out there and scaring the rest of the visitors. Being the dutiful and every chipper young Nurse, I found me a wheelchair and scampered on out there.
What I found in the lobby was a young Hispanic woman wearing clothing that appeared to be made in Mexico. I only say that because her T-Shirt said "Made in Mexico" on it. I promise. It really said that on it. Well, it said, "Hecho in Mexico" or something like that. I only remember this because I had never seen anything like it before and thought it was very cleaver. However, she was screaming at the top of her lungs in Spanish, " I can't do this.!!" "No!!""NO!!" "I Can't!" Basically, things like that.
At the time I had taken two years of Spanish in High School and never thought about Spanish again. All the sudden I became fluent. Suddenly I was speaking Spanish. I didn't even realize I was speaking Spanish but I was. I told this woman to sit in the wheelchair. Which she couldn't. She kinda leaned back in the chair with her pelvis and pregnant belly sticking out.
I raced her back to Labor and Delivery as fast as I could with her family of 20 or so members trailing after me. We go flying into the unit. Me and my parade of one screaming laboring pregnant woman and her family of 20. There are screaming women in the halls in chairs and on gurneys and in every labor room. It just so happens that one Labor room was open and clean.
I race her in the Labor room and tell her to get in the bed. She tells me there is no way she can get in the bed. Her family has surrounded us and they are all screaming for her to get in the bed. I am doing my best to separate her from the wheelchair and move the chair out of the way.
As I am trying to move the chair and get her in bed, she was bending over and taking her pants off. Just has she is bent over, I begin to dive because I know what is coming at me. I hit the ground and just as I do, she spits the baby into my hands. There is amniotic fluid, blood and you name it all in my hair, face and scrubs. The baby is half in and half out and screaming. The mom looks back at me and she asks me, if the baby is a boy or a girl? I say, I don't know. The rest of its hasn't been born yet. Push a little more. She does and it's a boy. The family erupts in cheers. The mom is all smiles. I am smiling even though I am a mess.
By this time, the rest of the nursing staff gets to the room to find out what the rucus is and they help get mom and baby to the bed and cleaned up. The family and everyone is fine and overjoyed. I am not so fine. I need a shower and clean scrubs. My hair needs to be shampooed and combed out over and over. I never wear my hair down at work again. Ever. I mean ever.
Its funny to think this baby is probably all grown up now with children of his own and what version of the story his family tells him of the crazy nurse who dove into home to deliver him. I guess I will never know. I am glad I was there for him and his mom. I was not glad to be drowned in bodily fluids and delivery a baby without gloves but sometimes you just have to do what you have to do.
This is my first real blog. I come to the blog world basically kicking, screaming and dragging my feet. I started to spout off on Facebook about one silly thing or another and my friends on Facebook seemed to really like all the crap that was tossing up on my wall. I honestly have never seen the appeal to anything I have ever written but I guess there must be something to a few words here and there.
Anyway, this blog is where I find myself today, writing this Blog. I ask myself what does one write in a blog? Are there subjects that you choose? Not really sure about this whole blog thing but I will give it a good old try.
I promised to tell you a little about me first before I begin this little blog. I am just an average everyday person. I am married and not for the first time. I am on my second marriage. I am pretty sure that is about normal for these days and times. My second husband and I have a solid marriage and decent life. I actually like him and am pretty sure he likes me. I have a one grown up daughter from my first marriage that my second husband helped me raise. She has turned out just fine.
I became a nurse early on in my life and I found it to be a very satisfying career. I started out working in Labor and Delivery. Bringing new life into the world was wonderful for a while, then it got boring. I learned early on that the baby would eventually come out. One way or another....The baby would deliver. It always did. So, I ended up in the Operating Room and I found the best place for this nurse to be.
Enough about me, lets start this blog.
So...I will start with a story Just like I have started on almost every Facebook post. My first day as a Labor and Delivery Nurse was an experience. I was pretty young and really long hair that I loved to wear all flowing and styled. I was excited to be wearing those Hospital pink scrubs that they used to make Labor Nurses wear back in the day. I thought I was a smoking hot nurse. Not.
Since I knew nothing about being a Labor Nurse and it seemed that everyone one in the Hospital I was employed at was having a baby on my current shift my training turned into baptism by fire. We were laboring women in the halls on gurneys, in chairs and in Labor rooms. I am sure, if we could have had bunk beds in the rooms, we would have done that as well. It was, if the babies were popping out the ceiling. I was more than overwhelmed.
The charge Nurse had instructed me to go out to the front lobby and fetch a first time mother and bring her back to the Labor unit. Apparently she was making all sorts of noise out there and scaring the rest of the visitors. Being the dutiful and every chipper young Nurse, I found me a wheelchair and scampered on out there.
What I found in the lobby was a young Hispanic woman wearing clothing that appeared to be made in Mexico. I only say that because her T-Shirt said "Made in Mexico" on it. I promise. It really said that on it. Well, it said, "Hecho in Mexico" or something like that. I only remember this because I had never seen anything like it before and thought it was very cleaver. However, she was screaming at the top of her lungs in Spanish, " I can't do this.!!" "No!!""NO!!" "I Can't!" Basically, things like that.
At the time I had taken two years of Spanish in High School and never thought about Spanish again. All the sudden I became fluent. Suddenly I was speaking Spanish. I didn't even realize I was speaking Spanish but I was. I told this woman to sit in the wheelchair. Which she couldn't. She kinda leaned back in the chair with her pelvis and pregnant belly sticking out.
I raced her back to Labor and Delivery as fast as I could with her family of 20 or so members trailing after me. We go flying into the unit. Me and my parade of one screaming laboring pregnant woman and her family of 20. There are screaming women in the halls in chairs and on gurneys and in every labor room. It just so happens that one Labor room was open and clean.
I race her in the Labor room and tell her to get in the bed. She tells me there is no way she can get in the bed. Her family has surrounded us and they are all screaming for her to get in the bed. I am doing my best to separate her from the wheelchair and move the chair out of the way.
As I am trying to move the chair and get her in bed, she was bending over and taking her pants off. Just has she is bent over, I begin to dive because I know what is coming at me. I hit the ground and just as I do, she spits the baby into my hands. There is amniotic fluid, blood and you name it all in my hair, face and scrubs. The baby is half in and half out and screaming. The mom looks back at me and she asks me, if the baby is a boy or a girl? I say, I don't know. The rest of its hasn't been born yet. Push a little more. She does and it's a boy. The family erupts in cheers. The mom is all smiles. I am smiling even though I am a mess.
By this time, the rest of the nursing staff gets to the room to find out what the rucus is and they help get mom and baby to the bed and cleaned up. The family and everyone is fine and overjoyed. I am not so fine. I need a shower and clean scrubs. My hair needs to be shampooed and combed out over and over. I never wear my hair down at work again. Ever. I mean ever.
Its funny to think this baby is probably all grown up now with children of his own and what version of the story his family tells him of the crazy nurse who dove into home to deliver him. I guess I will never know. I am glad I was there for him and his mom. I was not glad to be drowned in bodily fluids and delivery a baby without gloves but sometimes you just have to do what you have to do.
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