Ramblings By Rhianna

I have to admit I have been sitting here trying to think of metaphors for my existence in the world. The over used ripple in the ocean, or the innocuous fart on the wind.  I consider myself something more than the by product of human bio chemistry exchange.  And when I think of a ripple in the ocean it reminds me of all the saline tears of my life, in the end, neither suite. Don’t worry, I’m not all depressed or unworthy, but the writers mind was kicking it around for a moment and trying to sort through how best to begin today.

It’s Easter and I was thinking about the impact of one mans birth, death and resurrection.  Whatever your religious beliefs, that one life had a profound effect on the world, changing it in a dramatic and positive way.  He preached to treat your fellow man as you would wish to be treated. Honestly, all the doctrine and regulations came after his death and based on others perceptions of his words. He was not the author of the bible, but the subject.

Don’t start with the argument that the bible is his word. It shares his words, through others eyes and ears.  It is not an argument that I wish to engage in at all. I was raised Catholic and have their doctrine engrained in my psyche. So much so, that when I built the ghost mythology in my novel, Shaking Off the Dust, it was important to me to follow the doctrine of free choice. The ghost had the option of stepping into the light every day at sunrise, it was their choice to stay and a choice they made each day.

In what way can an individual affect this world? I’m reminded of the movie in which the accidently crushing of a butterfly’s wings in prehistoric times, change the entire time line. Don’t we do that in a very measured way, every mother and father creates the future in how well they do their job. Our world changes for the better when we raise a child to relate to others in a positive way. Each of us has the potential to affect everyone we touch in our lives. But do we see that role as righting some of the wrongs of our generation, or do we simply pass on our negative views and wonder why the world has become such a violent place. Positive change takes place when we all step forward as individuals, but speak with one voice.

Have you noticed that it only takes one vicious rumor to ruin someone’s career or life. But then again, it takes one man to voice an idea so profound that it can change the way we see the world. Not really, because it is a chain of affirmation as individual then pass it along, until the world has grasp the idea. And don’t start me on the internet.

What’s my point?  Words and ideas move us to action. There are great men and woman, who have changed the world with an idea.  Not always good ideas. We allow them to be our pied piper, or lead us down a path, because something resonates to our souls or hearts and minds. I think we are being swayed by hype and unrealistic expectations many times. But we evolve and the world changes and our children will live different lives than we ever understood.

The words of one man, a very long time ago, are celebrated by Christianity. All the religions of the world have found ritual and celebration as a way to hand down the words of individuals they believe made the world a better place.
We all have that power, to change the world. What are you doing to change the world?
Rhianna Samuels

This week seemed extraordinarily long to me. It’s a work thing. I usually have my Wednesday’s off and in the last month I’ve worked three out of four of them. Being the supreme candy ass that I am, I start dragging my fanny around, much like the old dog who you forced to go for a walk after years of sleeping at your feet.

 
 I enjoy my day job, for the most part. It is primarily as an educator for my ER, but I do a day at the patient care side every couple of weeks. It keeps me cognizant of the many issues that the bedside nurse must deal with and this year our ER has been exceptionally busy.  Monday is one of those days. My ritual is to wait until I get to the premises to take the 800mg or ibuprofen. If I take it when I get up at 5am, then it wears off half through the shift. I would recommend it for all our nurses, because you work your fanny off. (That’s metaphorically speaking, though I would wish it were literally speaking, because my fanny needs it.)

 
 The last day I worked was quite busy and I had an orientee. I schedule them, so when I’m on the floor it is a good time for me to see how they are progressing. In this instance he was spanking brand new to the floor and supposed to be with someone else who called in sick, so he tagged along with me. I won’t say his head was spinning, but it did get twisted around once or twice as the day progressed.

The usual came in for the morning, a diabetic with a blood sugar of over 600, bless her heart she’s been diabetic since she was a child; An abdominal pain; a chest pain; and a couple of flu patients. Then the unusual came into our trauma/critical care room.  It was a woman, who was limp and fairly out of it. She’d been sick with the flu for a week, and had a significant history so she was not brought in until she was bad. Her blood pressure was 51/palp.  Any thing under 90/ is a concern. This was of great concern, but even with this BP she mumbled and followed some commands. Oh, I didn’t mention her significant history. She had some level of amputation on all four of her extremities. Her right arm above the wrist, the left at the knuckles, both legs below the knee. That made finding an IV site extremely difficult. Our life flight nurse was helping with that, but in the end our physician put in a femoral line.  So, my new ER nurse was holding on to his head, to stop it from spinning.

 
 After a liter or two of fluid her BP boomed up to the seventies (Yes, that’s a joke. I wanted 90’s) But she perked right up. And her companion told us her story and how in ’92 she became ill and that is when she had her original problems. I realized that I had taken care of her when she came in back then.

 
I tell people that I can walk through the mall and feel like I recognize most of the faces, and yet I cannot remember them. What does that say about me?

 
I read an article, nursing of course, that within the next 12 years the nursing shortage will increase by 33%.  In my job I am trying to teach the future and what I have discovered the last five years or so, is that the young men and woman coming out of colleges and universities are not willing to work as hard as those before them.  That is not a bad thing. I wish my generation had felt the same way. Nursing is one job that is hard work. The average time that a nurse spends in critical care areas, like the ER or ICU is three to four years because of the stress level of those jobs.  Things will change or we are all in for a very scary time. Who will be taking care of you and me?  Not me, I hope.
 Okay, rambling again.

Rhianna

The weather has been playing catch me if you can. One week it’s ice, then it turns pretty just long enough to tease your senses, followed by the snow. Didn’t Roland Emerick do a movie on this, Day After Tomorrow? 

Nature has been playing tag since man started hunting for food. I’m not declaring that global warming hasn’t had an impact on our world, but long before industrialization it was snowing, monsoons were hitting and sand storms ravaged. It’s the reason the concept of only strongest survive became so popular. Think dust bowls and the time before electric air conditioners and heaters. We build houses that encroach along unsettled ocean and are outraged when the ocean invades what we decided to claim for ourselves. 

And I’ll admit I’m one of those people that keep thinking it would be great to live on the ocean or in the mountains. Instead, I live in tornado alley. I have a job where when it snows 24 inches, like it did four years ago, they send someone to my home to pick me up and bring me into work. Only, they don’t guarantee a ride home, only lodging at the hospital. Everyone else can be ticketed for being out, but as nurses and doctors we are told it is our duty. I was picked up by a rackety jeep and a fearless driver and we swung by to pick up a physician. I had to laugh and wondered seriously what qualified the driver to take my life in his hands on the steering wheel. 

At heart, I am a candy ass. My preference is to look at the snow from the inside of a warm house. When the rain is lashing out, I like to hear it on the roof and watch the trees sway. In the midst of it all, I will drink hot chocolate or tea, curl up and read a good book. I may take my handy pad of paper and pen to write. As I’ve gotten older, I feel less inclined to brave the weather. On the survivor scale, I’m avoiding the Eskimos, cause I don’t want to be put on an ice float. If you see me floating by, throw some marshmallows my way for my hot chocolate. 

I promised rambling, didn’t I. 

And on the theme of wacky weather, tell me your thoughts on the subject and your favorite weather or disaster movie. 

Rhianna 

I received a lovely note today in the email reminding me that I should blog. I don’t feel that I do a particularly fascinating blog, but I do, at irregular period’s blog. I need the discipline of being more frequent, so here is my lame attempt to be interesting. I’m not.  But, I will try with a tongue drilling in cheek to appear to be someone having an amazing life. (Allow me a moment to stop rolling on the floor laughing.)

  Let me think about this last week. I normally have Wednesdays off at work and this week I had to attend a four hour class on nursing research and evidenced based practice. (Doesn’t sound exciting, does it?)  Wednesdays are for my writing career, writing, promoting or Dr. appointments for my mother or me.  This week was a bust for that. The four hour class turned into an additional two hours writing up an interview with a nurse that was being seen later that day, and yes, they were so glad I happened to come in for something else, so I could take care of that. *shaking head*

 Lately, I’ve been trying to decide on a couple of things. First of all, I am trying to consider what I can do to keep Shaking Off the Dust out there for the reader to trip over as often as possible until they finally say… “well, darn, I should read that book!”  It’s the principle of …if all else fails read the directions…read the book.  I’d like to think that once they read it the rest is easy peasey, now they will remember the author for the next book they write.  This is my theory; based on evidence based practice…I did learn something.
I am going to the Lori Foster Readers and Writers weekend June 6^th and I’m trying to figure out what things I can

give out as promo material. I’m hoping you have suggestions. Oh, I’ll bring the usual things, bookmarks and

postcards, but what do people want and will keep that will constantly remind them of the book that doesn’t hit the circular file *trash* after a matter of hours. And consider that it must be something that won’t bankrupt the writer before her book actually goes into print.
You see how fascinating my life is.
 

I started working this week on  “Spilling words”, is about a female that can’t seem to stop form putting her thoughts into other people’s mouths, especially, old sixties and seventies songs. I’m trying to come up with some funny and poignant songs from that era that would burst from coffee house patrons. Send along some fun ones…I’ve got the Supremes covered. I’m thinking of listing a music selection at the end of the story.  It’s one of two ideas I’m toying with right now. The more song selections the better, and if you send me a song, make sure they were popular, no obscure ones the reader won’t have ever heard before.

 I have been bored with TV since the writers strike. Writers do make the world go round. I’m so loving Torchwood, it’s a british import on BBC America, so it’s unaffected by the strike, since it was filmed last year. I kept talking it up to my niece, she’s 21 and in college and she finally started watching this year and is in love with it too. I told her that I wouldn’t steer her wrong. I got them hooked on Dexter last year, so I have a good track record.

 I’m still anxiously awaiting the Sookie Stakehouse (HBO) series from Charlaine Harris books to start. It got postpones by the strike, I think it’s called Blood Ties. I love those books and am particularly fond of the Eric Northman character.  I am at that stage where I am tired of all the ploys to keep them apart, although I understand why.

 I had American idol on the other night with the boys and so I was privileged when that young one did his John Lennon, Imagine song to hear it. Goosebumps chilled along my arms. He is just spectacular. What’s the point in continuing? Even if he was thrown out tomorrow, he will outsell any other person there.
 

Now for the important list of questions I must address. These were sent by one of you. Need to know information.
1.      Toilet paper- do you use white or colors? White says you are a practical, no frills girl. Pink or blue, you are a frilly girly girl and maybe even a wuss. We need to know.
They make colored toilet paper?   Not in my town. W H I T E.  Despite the rainbow coalition, my bottom must remain unstained, figuratively and literally. 
 2.      Toilet paper- do you leave the end hanging from the backside or over the top? I must say, from my experience, those that like it hanging from the back side are…weird. They march to their own drum beat. Actually, they are all the way in the back in the Triangle section, really. If you are one of them though, just disregard what I just said. You’re all lovely, lovely people. : )
I don’t even pay attention to how it is hanging on the roller. As long as I can unroll it when it is needed I’m a happy camper. As I have said before, I learned to compromise and take life as it comes. If it matters to me, then it is the way I want it, what matters is having the paper available. I’m so easy sometimes
 
3.      If you would write “he then whipped out his lightsaber” would you be talking about Han Solo’s, Luke Skywalker’s, or… something…else? Me, my mind would go straight to the gutter and I would be thinking Darth Vader’s. Yum.
In the dark, I like glow in the dark stuff, though I’m very tactile. I’m not really a sword collector, so conversing about such things usually means it’s a euphemism for something naughty. I did see the original Star Wars at it’s very first showing in Houston, Texas. I’d read a piece on it in Time magazine and was an original fanatic. I am sanguine about it now. I didn’t not care for  the last three as much as the originals three. My very favorite trilogy is Lord Of the Rings. I was a fan of it since reading the books at thirteen.
  I think Angels rather than insects or birds, or two dogs facing away from their arguing masters.  Does that make me a freak?
4. When you look at this, what do you see? If you see just an ink blot, which is what this is, you’re boringly normal, and you won’t be able to write all that imaginative stuff I’m afraid. If you see a woman in a dress with no head, with two weird looking elephant birds with legs dancing off the side of her shaking their bums, I do believe you could write a masterpiece!  Me, I always see a pelvic bone. I think it means that I’m practical and down to earth, but I’m sure that some head shrinker would find me a totally whacked psychotic for seeing that though.
 
5.      Do you make your bed in the AM, after you get home, or never? We have to know if you’re a neat freak, a slob, or just plain old normal. These are very important details. LOL
Slob about my bedroom, unless I’m sharing it with someone.
 
6.      Pepsi or Coke? Wait, I know, it’s Mt. Dew. You just have to be different, don’t you!  : )
Diet Coke, or Diet Dr. Pepper or Dew
 
7.      Do you talk to your characters? Or even more interesting, do they talk back to you? It’s OK, you can admit it. We won’t tell anyone. *sealed lips*
I have them talking to each other, or back to me in mirrors. Freakish
 
8.      If you’re walking down the street and you notice people looking at you, do you assume it’s because you’re gorgeous and exude self confidence? Or, do you automatically get paranoid and start checking for a bugger in the nose, smeared lipstick, a smudge on your face, an open blouse/zipper, or toilet paper hanging off your pants or shoes?
I’m older now, so it’s the automatic check for buggies, crumbs on shirt and toilet paper dragging on shoes. In the day, it was …Oh yea… I’m styling.
 
9.      Chocolate or Vanilla? Or maybe you’re just some crazy wild chick who goes for Chunky Monkey topped with Cherry Garcia?  Or even more interesting, maybe you prefer vanilla/chocolate in public, but Chunky Monkey in private? I’m kind of guessing the last option. Don’t ask me why.  : )
It’s vanilla with a thick ribbon of chocolate. Or chocolate with a decent Merlo or Cabernet.
 
10.  A. Leather, B. hemp, C. silk, D.a car seat cover, or E. All of the above? You can think of your own question for your answer. I’m not even going to go there.
Leather with climate control
I’d love for each of you to answer those questions too on the comments. I need some assurance, that I am not that weird.

Rhianna