Jake's New Thing

I was raised in a football family. My dad watched the Dallas Cowboys. I remember him and my brothers watching, hooting, and cheering. The thrill, I must say, passed me by. When I was a rebellious teenager, my most defiant act was to root for the Pittsburg Steelers, avowed enemy of the Cowboys.

Honey was raised in a sports home. Not as passionate, perhaps, but still, sports were followed. But Honey never really got into it. He's a musician. (We like to say that we really lucked out: I found the one man on the planet who didn't care about sports, and he found the one woman who wasn't into shopping.)

The Soccer Mom phenomena passed right by this family. Jake did a short season of T-Ball, once. Addie and Tom each did one season of soccer. Each of these things was community: you pay $40 to the city Rec center, and your kid gets a t shirt with a business logo, a participation "trophy," and a brief concept that this game usually has some rules, but we aren't worried about those right now.

So imagine my surprise when Jake announces that his all-time favorite sports team is the Denver Broncos; that his favorite athlete is Champ Bailey; and that is fondest ambition is to be a wide receiver for the Broncos. He was watching a football game on television (probably the first one ever to be watched in this house), and he was telling me about plays, and downs, fumbles and other such things. I felt betrayed when Honey came in, watched for a moment, and said, "Watch, now they'll argle gargle google goo" and when the team did, Honey and Jake cheered and high-fived. (Apparently, it's an XY chromosomal link thing. Not caring isn't the same as not knowing. Who knew?)

Now Jake is signed up for football. It comes with pads, helmet, uniform, coaches, games, practices, rules, tackles and the whole sweaty nine yards. It cost $200 to sign him up, and that was just the beginning of the shake down. (Remind me to someday complain about the "touchdown bucket.") Jake's season started today, with an exhibition game against Bingham.

Jake is a second stringer. At Bingham, he'd probably be a first stringer, but our team is absolutely loaded with Polynesians, and Jake probably weighs less than the team's single girl athlete. Apparently, though, it's all paid off. He came home from his first game completely jazzed: the Kearns Bantams won 27-13, Jake had 6 plays, and his coach said that he's learned faster and better than any other first year they've seen (most of his team has been playing for 4 years).

I can't say I ever pictured myself as the mother of an athlete, but the smile on Jakes face makes the flies buzzing around the corpse of the family wallet all worth while!

Talking to myself: the new semester

I write so rarely, this is like talking to myself. I don't know if anyone looks anymore, which makes it hard to want to write, which means people don't look. . . it isn't a cycle as vicious as familial abuse, certainly, but it does cycle just as much.

A new semester has begun: new classes and new things to learn. This semester is adult care -commonly called medical-surgery or med-surg- and I'll be spending two days each week for the next 15 weeks at the hospital. I'll be on different surgical floors, and spend time in the ICU, the ER, and PCU (the step down between ICU and home) and even one day in surgery.

Did you know that while the majority of nurses go to work in the hospital, it's (only) just over 50%? There are so many choices available! I could be a certified nurse midwife and deliver babies (my original ambition); I could be a family practice nurse, and have a clinic with patients; I could be a prison nurse (although I likely won't); I could do research and have little to do with patients at all.

More than just a nurse, I feel like I want to make changes. There is a professional hostility between certified nurse midwives and direct entry midwives (who commonly attend home births). Part of it is a territorial dispute, part of it is an educational snobbery, and I think part of it is based on envy: CNMs have really high malpractice insurance (although I can't imagine that DEMs have it too much better). But it bugs me, because in school the big theme repeated endlessly is the role of the nurse: patient advocate.

Another place that fascinates me is community nursing. People go on medical missions to foreign countries and feel righteous and holy (and certainly they are doing good work). Why not a medical mission to urban areas in the US? "There are free clinics here already."

So if there is already some mechanism in place to provide medical care to people who live on the fringes of society, why is there this mad rush to socialize medicine? Where are the flaws and gaps? Why are the free clinics not doing the job? What obstacles do they have? What are the limitations?

I'm not poised to become a bleeding heart liberal; I am excited about the power of the individual to make a difference. I hope that I can make a difference for the better, where ever I finally land professionally.