Was offered a free newspaper at the grocery store the other day. "Why not? It's free!" he said. "No, it's not," I said. "Yes, it is," he said. By that time I was out the door to load up my groceries, so I didn't stay around to play yes-it-is/no-it's-not. When you give your information to them, which is required to receive a free paper, you are selling your information. For seventy-five cents.
Last time I did this, probably some time in the 80's, I didn't realize I would be looking forward to ten years of solicitor's calls from the News Tribune every six months, usually from someone in Dallas. At this time they had passed the legislation requiring solicitors, if you told them to stop, to stop calling you. Which the News Tribune steadfastly ignored. I would say, "Last time you called, I asked you to stop phoning you. But now you are phoning me again. Which is against the law." "Oh, I'm sorry ma'am."
I also have a card with Safeway. These grocery store cards [all except for Fred Meyer, which works differently] are always promoted as a way to save money at the store. To pay regular grocery prices, it's required to get a card. It's not a save-money card, it's a fail-to-let-them-gouge-you-card.
I always hated the intrusiveness. In the beginning, at Safeway, they would always address me by name at the checkout counter. I go to the store expecting to be anonymous, and in fifteen years I have never gotten used to being addressed by name by a grocery clerk. Except for Mrs. Jackman in the neighborhood store in 1960. Addressing me by name does not make you Mrs. Jackman. It makes you intrusive.
"Don't call me Mrs. Fritz," I would snarl. "We're just being friendly. We're required to do that."
I still have the same card, but a different phone number [fortunately still memorized, for when I forget my card.] I also have changed names at least twice. So when they call me "Mrs. Fritz" it is no longer my name, so I just smile.
Don't even get me started on "Drive safely!" Now I have more manners [slightly] I no longer reply, "What do you think I am? A moron? I'm going to drive out there and see if I can't hit a few light poles."
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Monday, March 21, 2011
Notes on Studying the Kitab-i-Iqan
Studying the Kitab-i-Iqan [The Book of Certitude] by Baha'u'llah in the Wilmette Institute online course, Dr. Moojen Momen presented quite a list of suggestions for themes to study:
The Station of the Manifestations [my favorite theme in the Iqan]
The Proofs of the Manifestations
The meaning of Divine Sovereignty/Divine Kingship
How did Baha'u'llah introduce clergy, as a class, in the Iqan?
What is meant by human knowledge?
What is meant by divine knowledge?
What is the difference, and which one is more acceptable?
What are the veils standing between us and God?
The subject of tests. "Do men think when they say 'we believe' they shall be let alone and not be put to proof?" After having tests, we will become stronger and stronger in our faith.
God is unknowable, and everything you thought you knew about God is actually knowledge of the Manifestation.
The Station of the Manifestations [my favorite theme in the Iqan]
The Proofs of the Manifestations
The meaning of Divine Sovereignty/Divine Kingship
How did Baha'u'llah introduce clergy, as a class, in the Iqan?
What is meant by human knowledge?
What is meant by divine knowledge?
What is the difference, and which one is more acceptable?
What are the veils standing between us and God?
The subject of tests. "Do men think when they say 'we believe' they shall be let alone and not be put to proof?" After having tests, we will become stronger and stronger in our faith.
God is unknowable, and everything you thought you knew about God is actually knowledge of the Manifestation.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Gems of Divine Mysteries
I'm taking an online course on two books by Baha'u'llah: Gems of Divine Mysteries, and the Kitab-i-Iqan [Book of Certitude.] I would like to share a little bit from one of the themes of the Gems.
Baha'u'llah asks:
What hath prompted the divers peoples and kindreds of the earth to reject the Apostles whom God hath sent unto them in His might and power, whom He hath raised up to exalt His Cause and ordained to be the Lamps of eternity within the Niche of His oneness?
He answers this in five sentences which I will sum up: 1. People fail to fix their gaze upon the testimony of God; 2. They follow the footsteps of the abject and foolish among the leaders and divines; 3. They refuse to see with the eyes "wherewith God hath endowed them." 4. They desired things other than God hath desired for them; 5. They cling to the outward meaning of scripture.
Baha'u'llah asks:
What hath prompted the divers peoples and kindreds of the earth to reject the Apostles whom God hath sent unto them in His might and power, whom He hath raised up to exalt His Cause and ordained to be the Lamps of eternity within the Niche of His oneness?
He answers this in five sentences which I will sum up: 1. People fail to fix their gaze upon the testimony of God; 2. They follow the footsteps of the abject and foolish among the leaders and divines; 3. They refuse to see with the eyes "wherewith God hath endowed them." 4. They desired things other than God hath desired for them; 5. They cling to the outward meaning of scripture.
Done
My career as a resident care manager at "Mountain View" is kaput. I was so busy trying to keep up with things that no earthly human could really keep up with that I didn't even notice my 90 day probationary period was up, until I was called into the DNS' office and learned that I will not be kept on in that position.
She will do a couple of things for me; extend my probationary period two weeks; offer me an evening position working on the "floor", doing medications and treatments and MD calls and all that. So that keeps the wolf from the door, but there went my Mon thru Fri days, there went my free evenings and weekends.
This news came on the brink of me finally getting The Cold that many at work have been getting, keeping me home for two days. I don't dare ask for more off.
She will do a couple of things for me; extend my probationary period two weeks; offer me an evening position working on the "floor", doing medications and treatments and MD calls and all that. So that keeps the wolf from the door, but there went my Mon thru Fri days, there went my free evenings and weekends.
This news came on the brink of me finally getting The Cold that many at work have been getting, keeping me home for two days. I don't dare ask for more off.
Monday, March 7, 2011
On Call
I was on call at "Mountain View" from 8 PM Friday to 8 AM Monday. Friday I had gone out to dinner, then gone to bed late [for me] about 10:30.
Friday: 11:19 PM.
My first call came 11:19 from the evening and night nurses on an allegation, which I walked them through: yes, you have to send home the staff member [which would put them short an aide and be a severe inconvenience]; yes, chart on the patient and put her on alert; yes, initiate an incident report; call police? At this point I had them phone the Director of Nursing and she informed them that the whole thing stemmed from a previous allegation which has been disproved, no sending anyone home--wait, have they clocked out--and no incident report. I get to sleep somewhere around one AM.
Saturday: 10:05 AM.
Received call from the weekend nurse manager that a night shift nurse called in, and that the usual practice when that happens is to split up a run so two instead of three nurses could cover it. The only nurse to call, according to "Janet", is someone who is pregnant and probably wouldn't come in. We decide to leave it at that.
Saturday: 8:09 PM.
Received call from "Mary" about newly readmitted Mr. Burpee calling out loudly for no discernible reason for the last three hours, despite morphine and Ativan, until his wife got there. It's a male room: can the wife stay there? I said she can visit and when they do personal care, leave the room. Resident is not supposed to go back to the hospital. I ask if Haldol is available, suggest calling the MD; it turns out that they don't know who the on-call doctor is for the MD. I suggested calling the MD's cell phone and apologizing and asking who the on-call MD is. I call back to follow up in an hour and it turns out that Mr. Burpee is now quiet and they opted not to phone MD.
Saturday: 9:35 PM.
Received call from "Laura" night nurse asking who is coming in to replace the nurse who called off? I explained what Janet had told me, to split the shift, and that we had agreed not to fill the vacancy. Laura said that when she was manager on call, she always came in to fill a shift, and was I going to come in? I said I hadn't been planning to, and she became angry and said, "Thanks for all your help!" Clunk.
Saturday: 9:50 PM.
Received call from evening nurse, "Francisca", who said she had phoned Janet to ask Janet to call Laura about the staffing issue. I said that I hadn't slept well last night and I had trusted what Janet told me about splitting the run and I wasn't prepared to work.
Saturday: 10:05 PM.
Received a series of texts from "Alison" the DNS clarifying that I did not call people to try to fill the night shift because I trusted what Janet had told me. Alison said I should notify the facility that the census is low, try to get people to stay late &/or come in early, and offer to go in. I found a day shift nurse to come in at 4:00 AM, dressed for work and came in to help with the night shift from 11:30 PM to 4:00 AM. When I got there I apologized to Laura and said what Janet and I did wrong, and that if I had been in her place I would have been angry too. She was very gracious. I learned to use the facility's very weird glucometer, gave several people their meds, almost all of them through gastrostomy tubes, and unplugged a recalcitrant tube which clearly had not been flushed after the last feeding. I went home feeling somewhat heroic.
Sunday I slept till 8 AM when I thoughtlessly answered a call from a phone solicitor, dozed till 10 AM, gave up and showered, spent time on the internet, and was downstairs eating lunch when the phone rang again.
Sunday: 1 PM:
Received a call from Janet that an evening shift nurse had called in and she had not been able to replace him. My heart sank. I swore. I went through the 7 Stages of Death, "DABDA": Denial, Anger, Bargaining, D-something, Acceptance, and Death. [Wait, that's only six. Guess I need to bone up.] I packed a lunch and dressed and went to work. I worked on the cart on my wing, having gotten an excellent report and worked out a game plan with the day nurse, and had to deal with severe staffing issues for the CNA's [there had been four call-in's.] We had one able-bodied aide and one on light duty for 30 residents. It required a show of force to the other side to get them to trade an able CNA with our light-duty CNA.
I was checking blood pressures, blood sugars, and popping pills out of bubble packs until I was able to take a lunch from 7:30 to 8:00, completed an incident report on a skin tear, and very ready to go home by 9:30 PM. There was only one medication I couldn't find and I found out it was at the bedside, where the resident's family members administered it. The family was very nice about it. About 8 PM I received a call from the hospital asking if I would take a readmission and I was very firm and clear in my "NO!"
After report and counting with the night nurse, and still on call until 8 AM, I instructed her not to call me during the night unless there was a chain saw massacre.
Friday: 11:19 PM.
My first call came 11:19 from the evening and night nurses on an allegation, which I walked them through: yes, you have to send home the staff member [which would put them short an aide and be a severe inconvenience]; yes, chart on the patient and put her on alert; yes, initiate an incident report; call police? At this point I had them phone the Director of Nursing and she informed them that the whole thing stemmed from a previous allegation which has been disproved, no sending anyone home--wait, have they clocked out--and no incident report. I get to sleep somewhere around one AM.
Saturday: 10:05 AM.
Received call from the weekend nurse manager that a night shift nurse called in, and that the usual practice when that happens is to split up a run so two instead of three nurses could cover it. The only nurse to call, according to "Janet", is someone who is pregnant and probably wouldn't come in. We decide to leave it at that.
Saturday: 8:09 PM.
Received call from "Mary" about newly readmitted Mr. Burpee calling out loudly for no discernible reason for the last three hours, despite morphine and Ativan, until his wife got there. It's a male room: can the wife stay there? I said she can visit and when they do personal care, leave the room. Resident is not supposed to go back to the hospital. I ask if Haldol is available, suggest calling the MD; it turns out that they don't know who the on-call doctor is for the MD. I suggested calling the MD's cell phone and apologizing and asking who the on-call MD is. I call back to follow up in an hour and it turns out that Mr. Burpee is now quiet and they opted not to phone MD.
Saturday: 9:35 PM.
Received call from "Laura" night nurse asking who is coming in to replace the nurse who called off? I explained what Janet had told me, to split the shift, and that we had agreed not to fill the vacancy. Laura said that when she was manager on call, she always came in to fill a shift, and was I going to come in? I said I hadn't been planning to, and she became angry and said, "Thanks for all your help!" Clunk.
Saturday: 9:50 PM.
Received call from evening nurse, "Francisca", who said she had phoned Janet to ask Janet to call Laura about the staffing issue. I said that I hadn't slept well last night and I had trusted what Janet told me about splitting the run and I wasn't prepared to work.
Saturday: 10:05 PM.
Received a series of texts from "Alison" the DNS clarifying that I did not call people to try to fill the night shift because I trusted what Janet had told me. Alison said I should notify the facility that the census is low, try to get people to stay late &/or come in early, and offer to go in. I found a day shift nurse to come in at 4:00 AM, dressed for work and came in to help with the night shift from 11:30 PM to 4:00 AM. When I got there I apologized to Laura and said what Janet and I did wrong, and that if I had been in her place I would have been angry too. She was very gracious. I learned to use the facility's very weird glucometer, gave several people their meds, almost all of them through gastrostomy tubes, and unplugged a recalcitrant tube which clearly had not been flushed after the last feeding. I went home feeling somewhat heroic.
Sunday I slept till 8 AM when I thoughtlessly answered a call from a phone solicitor, dozed till 10 AM, gave up and showered, spent time on the internet, and was downstairs eating lunch when the phone rang again.
Sunday: 1 PM:
Received a call from Janet that an evening shift nurse had called in and she had not been able to replace him. My heart sank. I swore. I went through the 7 Stages of Death, "DABDA": Denial, Anger, Bargaining, D-something, Acceptance, and Death. [Wait, that's only six. Guess I need to bone up.] I packed a lunch and dressed and went to work. I worked on the cart on my wing, having gotten an excellent report and worked out a game plan with the day nurse, and had to deal with severe staffing issues for the CNA's [there had been four call-in's.] We had one able-bodied aide and one on light duty for 30 residents. It required a show of force to the other side to get them to trade an able CNA with our light-duty CNA.
I was checking blood pressures, blood sugars, and popping pills out of bubble packs until I was able to take a lunch from 7:30 to 8:00, completed an incident report on a skin tear, and very ready to go home by 9:30 PM. There was only one medication I couldn't find and I found out it was at the bedside, where the resident's family members administered it. The family was very nice about it. About 8 PM I received a call from the hospital asking if I would take a readmission and I was very firm and clear in my "NO!"
After report and counting with the night nurse, and still on call until 8 AM, I instructed her not to call me during the night unless there was a chain saw massacre.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Thou Most Shrill Pen
This is how it goes. Weeks of nothing, then lots.
I'm very excited to begin my first Baha'i online course [I took one last year from eCornell on plant-based nutrition] from the Wilmette Institute on the Kitab-i-Iqan and Gems of Divine Mysteries.
Doing a collaborative art/collage project at Feast prompted me to remember one of my haikus from the past:
O Thou Most Shrill Pen!
May Thy ink flow in my veins,
Write my life for Thee.
I'm very excited to begin my first Baha'i online course [I took one last year from eCornell on plant-based nutrition] from the Wilmette Institute on the Kitab-i-Iqan and Gems of Divine Mysteries.
Doing a collaborative art/collage project at Feast prompted me to remember one of my haikus from the past:
O Thou Most Shrill Pen!
May Thy ink flow in my veins,
Write my life for Thee.
A Voice
Since I began living alone, I started talking to myself incessantly, and trying to remember not to do it at work or in public, to fill the non-meowing silence. Speaking of meowing, Gregory at last report is happy with his new adopted family, and Juliet, initially angry and withdrawn at her move, is at least resigned and starting to come out and socialize.
I started saying my obligatory prayers aloud for the first time ever. I no longer say them in a whisper, so as not to offend anyone else. [In the townhouse, I've never heard voices from the other wall, only the washer and dishwasher and showers and occasional thumps and bumps, so I think I'm safe.] For the first time, I give actual expression to something which before was more a mental series of words. I've noticed that the degree to which I am willing to pray aloud reflects my relative level of fear versus confidence at that particular time.
My other thought was that we all started with the Voice of God. In the beginning was the Word. The Creative Word.
He is the One Who sayeth, "Be thou," and it is.
~Baha'u'llah
When I get things more organized, I want to do two things: start a monthly Devotional Meeting here, and find out what other Baha'is all live in Puyallup so we can get together and see what we need to consolidate and expand the community.
Artwork to post: three painted canoe paddles our family did as a Girl Scout activity years ago; my daughter's water color painting of a horse; a painting by Walter Palmore which I received in trade for some vests I made him years ago; one large and one small photo of 'Abdu'l-Baha; a color print of a Walter Palmore painting; a framed poster of Indian etchings [can't think of the proper name right now] showing two large Figures and a smaller one in between which could be seen as prophetic; and if there's room, my Mountain of the Lord tapestry. Whoo. Also multiple photos of my daughter and a painting of me by her based on an old photo.
I started saying my obligatory prayers aloud for the first time ever. I no longer say them in a whisper, so as not to offend anyone else. [In the townhouse, I've never heard voices from the other wall, only the washer and dishwasher and showers and occasional thumps and bumps, so I think I'm safe.] For the first time, I give actual expression to something which before was more a mental series of words. I've noticed that the degree to which I am willing to pray aloud reflects my relative level of fear versus confidence at that particular time.
My other thought was that we all started with the Voice of God. In the beginning was the Word. The Creative Word.
He is the One Who sayeth, "Be thou," and it is.
~Baha'u'llah
When I get things more organized, I want to do two things: start a monthly Devotional Meeting here, and find out what other Baha'is all live in Puyallup so we can get together and see what we need to consolidate and expand the community.
Artwork to post: three painted canoe paddles our family did as a Girl Scout activity years ago; my daughter's water color painting of a horse; a painting by Walter Palmore which I received in trade for some vests I made him years ago; one large and one small photo of 'Abdu'l-Baha; a color print of a Walter Palmore painting; a framed poster of Indian etchings [can't think of the proper name right now] showing two large Figures and a smaller one in between which could be seen as prophetic; and if there's room, my Mountain of the Lord tapestry. Whoo. Also multiple photos of my daughter and a painting of me by her based on an old photo.
At Home
I've been in my new home since February 12. It feels like home. I don't always feel at home in myself, but that is another story. I have a lot of organizing to do here, and a lot of moving things over from Tacoma, and cleaning in Tacoma, and more organizing here, that I really don't have time for right now.
The last two weeks at work were harrowing: the DNS was away, and the mice will play. The Corporate Nurse, who can sometimes be very helpful, and other times not, spent days at the facility and strangely at the same time we were doing investigations, and interviewing residents, which brought a lot of allegations out of the woodwork--some valid, many not. It felt like a witch hunt. I lost sleep, became extremely stressed, and my only saving grace was relying on God and reminding myself, "Don't let this be about you." Finally this week I got some sleep.
I'm on call at work this weekend, and received my first call after I'd been asleep an hour: another allegation, a badly-needed CNA to send home; finally I said to phone the DNS and when I called back to follow up, it turned out that this was an old, disproved allegation reiterated by the resident, and nobody had to go home, and the police did not have to be called, and I don't think I got back to sleep before one in the morning.
Which, before breakfast, Mr. Cable Man came over because of my intermittent slow internet speed. I had come up with a theory, which proved to be correct: that my computer continued to search for wireless connections in the neighborhood [this is a duplex] and that search plus being on other peoples' servers by accident, caused some very slow speeds. So we turned off the wireless faculty on my computer, so the modem is the only connection, and I learned how to turn on the wireless whenever I should need it, and my speed has gone way up.
I now have the weekend, and breakfast, before me to try to get this place organized, put up pictures and other artwork, and so forth. I also plan to go to work as a ghost to try to get caught up. [A ghost because I plan to do work off the clock.]
So. Here I am.
The last two weeks at work were harrowing: the DNS was away, and the mice will play. The Corporate Nurse, who can sometimes be very helpful, and other times not, spent days at the facility and strangely at the same time we were doing investigations, and interviewing residents, which brought a lot of allegations out of the woodwork--some valid, many not. It felt like a witch hunt. I lost sleep, became extremely stressed, and my only saving grace was relying on God and reminding myself, "Don't let this be about you." Finally this week I got some sleep.
I'm on call at work this weekend, and received my first call after I'd been asleep an hour: another allegation, a badly-needed CNA to send home; finally I said to phone the DNS and when I called back to follow up, it turned out that this was an old, disproved allegation reiterated by the resident, and nobody had to go home, and the police did not have to be called, and I don't think I got back to sleep before one in the morning.
Which, before breakfast, Mr. Cable Man came over because of my intermittent slow internet speed. I had come up with a theory, which proved to be correct: that my computer continued to search for wireless connections in the neighborhood [this is a duplex] and that search plus being on other peoples' servers by accident, caused some very slow speeds. So we turned off the wireless faculty on my computer, so the modem is the only connection, and I learned how to turn on the wireless whenever I should need it, and my speed has gone way up.
I now have the weekend, and breakfast, before me to try to get this place organized, put up pictures and other artwork, and so forth. I also plan to go to work as a ghost to try to get caught up. [A ghost because I plan to do work off the clock.]
So. Here I am.
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