I want to give a shout out to my nephew. He has started his own website called 1LightforGod.net. And when I say started his own website, he is learning the background code and design. So you guys show him some love and visit his site.
And while I am shouting - how about a Merry Christmas to everybody. I just read that our Congress is not allow to send any correspondence with the words "Merry Christmas". Well I am no Congressman but I am an American and as of today I am free to say...
Merry Christmas
Happy Birthday Jesus
Merry Christmas
Jesus is the reason for the season
Merry Christmas
May the blessings of our Lord Jesus Christ shower upon you and your family
Jesus Saves
Merry Christmas
For God so loved the world He gave His only begotten Son (aka Jesus) that whosoever believeth in Him shall not perish but have everlasting life. John 3:16
Merry Christmas
I may have over done it, but I feel better. :)
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Freaky Fridays
Two weeks ago on a Friday afternoon around 4:00 I got a call from home "there's been an accident". Just two weeks later nearly to the hour, while in the middle of a crisis at work, my phone buzzes again "Home" is displayed on the screen. I thought, I will have to call back later. As the crisis at work escalates, my phone buzzes again "Capt Kirk", my neighbor is calling. I thought - uh oh something is going on again.
I managed to excuse myself with "I am sorry but I think something is going on at home." I stepped into the breakroom to check my voice mail.
Message 1
Message 2:
Capt. Kirk: Kipp call me and let me know how Kipp Jr is doing when you get a chance.
Message 3:
Wonder Woman: Kipp I am taking Kipp Jr to the orthopedic doctor at 3:30. She has a knot on her arm and we are going to check it out. If you try to call back we may not be home.
Did I once hear somebody say that being a dad is one of the most stressful jobs in the world? Maybe it was just my outside voice.
With the work crisis at its crescendo, I inform my supervisor that I need to leave if at all possible to meet Wonder Woman and Kipp Jr at the orthopedic doctor because of an apparent broken arm. "Are you...(let me loosely translate)...'really' serious!? I mean yes that is fine. What happened?"
"I am not sure. They called about the time all this crisis started and I have only had time to get a message that they are going to the ortho at 3:30."
"Sure, get out of here."
On the way to the ortho office I make several calls on a low cell battery. I called Dad to ask him to pray for Kipp Jr as she has an apparent broken arm. I called Capt. Kirk to see what he knew had happened. He said it appeared Kipp Jr had fallen out of the trampoline door (the safety net door) while jumping on their trampoline. He was concerned about Jr and wanted me to let him know how she was doing after the ortho visit. I told Capt. Kirk I appreciated his concern and would call him when we left the doctors office.
After working my way thru the office staff at the doctors office (think TSA airport security) because Kipp Jr was already back in the back, I walked in to Exam room 2 to a sad little girl and a nervous Wonder Woman.
Kipp Jr was sitting down supporting her right arm across her lap. She was staring straight ahead with little emotion. I sat down in the wheeled spinning chair normally reserved for the doctor. I wheeled close to Kipp Jr and put my hand on her knee. I asked her if she was in any pain? She said, "A little." I asked her if I could see her arm - where it hurt. She gave me the sad puppy dog eyes and nodded slowly. Wonder Woman tells me to be careful not to hurt her.
I pulled up her t-shirt sleeve up to view the injury. I could see no visible signs of redness or protrusions. I then went rolling about on the wheeled doctors stool acting as if I was the doctor. I pretended to hold a medical record chart. I then pretended to put reading glasses on and pull them down on my nose.
In my best southern drawl, not much of a stretch really, I looked at Kipp Jr. and said, "Lit-tall Miss Beed-ford, I have here the results of uur X-raay pick-toe-graphs. And I jus want to let ewe know in my pro-fess-nal o-pin-yun..." Wonder Woman is starting to giggle at this point. "...well I tell ewe, it's mo of what my ol daddy would to saay. 'If it ain't a bleedin or got a bone a stickin out then u aren't a hurtin."
These antics brought her to a giggle. Her Papa is well known by his grandkids for saying that very thing when they run up to him crying about the smallest injury. We shared a laugh for a minute before Wonder Woman told me I had better stop before the doctor walked in. I took her advice.
I looked at Kipp Jr. and said if the doctor happens to talk like that when he or she walks in here...please do not laugh. "What if I can't help it?" asked Jr. "Well then let me do the talking and I will explain."
A few minutes had passed and Kipp Jr. was back to looking like she was not comfortable. She was holding her arm on her lap and had a serious look on her face. The doctor knocked on the door and entered. He was wearing his long white coat and a set up of blue scrubs underneath. He of course was holding a medical record chart. I looked at Kipp Jr. and shook my head no. She was not looking at me.
He sat down in the wheeled stool and wheeled himself right over to Kipp Jr. He was holding the chart very similar to the way I had been pretending to hold it. I glanced over at Wonder Woman and she would not return my look but she shook her head ever so slightly to indicate - no I am going to look at you.
The doctor cleared his throat, "I have to tell you, you have broken your arm." Kipp Jr. looked at me and Wonder Woman with a look as if she was saying I told you so. "The break was pretty clean but we are going to have to put a cast on her arm." Suddenly she lit up like a school girl at a Justin Beiber concert. She was smiling from ear to ear. Wonder Woman wanted to know "What are you smiling about?"
Kipp Jr picked blue for her cast. The nurse putting on her cast wanted to know what happened. Kipp Jr responded with her normal summary of events. "Trampoline." The nurse smiled and said "Ah I love trampolines and skateboards. I like to call them, job security."
As we left the doctors office I had to make some calls to family and friends. I reminded each of them I needed to keep it brief due to my low battery. I had called Dad and Paw-in-law before calling Capt. Kirk. I thought for a minute before calling him. The conversation went something like this:
Capt. Kirk: Hey man thanks for calling how is she?
Me: She is doing OK. She broke her arm.
CK: Really!?
Me: Yeah it was a clean break. She is doing OK. She is really really proud of her cast.
CK: Man I hate that, tell her I am sorry. If there is anything I can do, let me know.
Me: We are good man. But I did want to let you know your story and Kipp Jr's story about what happened do not match.
CK: (His voice changed to a very serious tone) What do you mean? What did she say?
Brief side note: Capt. Kirk is bigger than me. He is a big dude.
Me: She said you were on the trampoline playing "crack the egg" and bounced her out of the trampoline through the door. She said it was all your fault.
CK: .................(10 seconds).................(20 seconds)...................In a stunned quiet nearly whisper he said, She said what?
Me: The game 'Crack the egg'. Where kids lay on the trampoline, ball up holding there knees, while somebody bounces on the trampoline trying to get them to let go of their knees...you know crack the egg. She said she held on for your first cannon ball bounce and she thinks she would been able to hold on for a few more but when she went flying out the door...the second cannon ball you reigned down was too much.
CK:...................................................(20 seconds).
Me: Just saying, your story and hers do not match up. (I could not hold it any longer, I started laughing) KA-BOOM!
CK: .....Man you ain't right. You ain't right.
Me: You couldn't crack her egg without bouncing her off onto the ground? That has to be against the rules.
CK: (snickers) Cannon ball bounce - you come up with that one yourself? Funny Kipp. Real funny.
Me: We thought that version would be better than what really happened. So when people ask us what happened...this will be our story.
CK: Man you know that thing couldn't even hold me. Call me if you...if Kipp Jr needs anything.
Me: Will do.
Battery finally died on my phone.
I am hoping the next few Fridays are not so adventurous but some people say bad things happens in threes. The bad news wave at this point consists of a plumber and a physician. Not sure what the third is going to be, but if it happens on a Friday, I will let you guys know.
********
At the time of this posting, Kipp Jr is healing nicely. She is already out of her cast and in a sling.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Water spicket
Bare with me here for a minute while I set this up. Home improvement projects seem to be popular right now. OK by popular I mean me and EmptyNester have home improvement projects going on right now, the rest of you rockbottom dwellers may need to jump on this wagon before you get left out of all the fun :)
Well my home improvement project has been two fold. The first phase was replacing the windows in our sun room. I will spare you the details, but suffice to say we paid somebody to replace them. The second phase was painting the outside of our house. It is mostly brick so the project was not as combersome as it could have been. We decided for the second phase to keep it inhouse (do it yourself).
I blocked off a Saturday to commit a full day to painting the outside of the house. We had to put a coat of primer on the fresh siding around the new windows and a coat of new paint on the front door and eves (after my wife had spent Friday morning stripping the paint from the front door). My father-in-law joined in on the fun as well and contributed a coat of paint around the eves and flashing around the entire house. When we wrapped up the painting at the end of the day we basically had a coat of paint or primer on everything except the front post and the garage.
Because we did not finish the project in a day and a half as planned. We extended the plan into the following week. The new plan was for my wife to continue to paint what she could reach throughout the week and I would once again paint all day the following Saturday to wrap it all up. Well mother nature had other plans. It rained Monday - Wednesday with Thursday not such a good day for painting.
My wife pulled the paint supplies back out on Friday as I left for work. When I got home for lunch she had put a second coat on the front door. Her plans for after lunch were to paint the window seals on the front porch we had forgotten all about. So she asked me to get the A-frame ladder out for her. As I returned inside I told her to be careful using the ladder. She mumbled something about only having to get on the second step. I returned to work.
My cellphone rings about 10 minutes before quitting time. "Home" is displayed on my cell phone screen.
Me: Hey what's up?
My wife: There has been an accident.
Me: What! What happened?!
The signal cracks up. I think the company I work for has installed cell phone blockers in my building. Surely it cannot be AT&T's wonderful service. I got up and left my office to see if the reception would get any better.
Me: Are you OK?
My wife: Yes I am fine. There has been an accident.
Me: OK I heard that part, what is going on?
There are voices in the background
My wife: I broke the water spicket.
Dramatic pause. At first I was thinking, as you probably were, that she had fallen off the ladder and hurt herself. With the voices in the background I was thinking maybe the ambulance staff was helping her into the ambulance or the neighbors were helping her into their vehicle to transport her to the ER. When she mentioned the water spicket, I thought the spicket is not on the front of the house it is on the side of the house with the driveway. Why was she painting over there? The only thing to paint over there are the eves. She was not supposed to be painting the eves.
Me: Wait...did you say water spicket?
My wife: Yes I was leaving to get some more paint because I had ran out. I was backing out of the driveway making sure I was being very careful because Will (2 year old that lives next door) and Dixie (Jack Russell terrier lives across the street) were out playing. Anyway I heard a noise and the van started getting sprayed with water, like somebody was squirtting us with a fire hose. I do not know how it happened but when I ran over the hose it pulled the spicket off the wall. Mindy said Tanner's dad is on his way over and he is a plumber. Can I have him fix it?
Me: Yes.
My wife: OK bye.
She hung up.
So I, and now you, are left to imagine what is going on at my house because in her state of mind staying on the phone to provide me more information of the accident was apparently not a priority.
Pulling onto my street I see more people out and about than normal. There is a truck parked in my driveway and a gentleman chiseling away at a brick on the side of my house. My wife is standing in the driveway supervising the plumber. My kids are next door playing with Will and Dixie. I get out of my truck and start a conversation with my wife.
Me to my wife: OK I am glad you are not hurt.
My wife: What are you talking about?
Me: It is not a good idea to start a conversation with your spouse with 'There has been an accident.' It tends to produce an adrenaline rush in the spouse hearing that statement.
My wife: Sorry but there had been an accident.
Me: But I thought you had fallen off the ladder and somehow hurt yourself and broken the spicket.
My wife: But I was not even painting near the spicket why would you think that?
Me: Sooo...what happened?
My wife: (Read this faster as you go cause she got faster as she talked) Well I had run out of paint and knew we would need some for tomorrow. I thought I would run to the paint store before they closed and pick up another gallon. Instead of putting everything up, because the store is so close, I left everything out and told the kids to get in the van. The hose was across the driveway. As I was backing up, careful to watch out for all the kids and dogs out playing because you know how cautious I am, I heard a noise and suddenly the van is being sprayed with water. I looked over and it appeared it was coming out of the wall of the house. I pulled the van up some and noticed the spicket did not look right. I got out of the van and tried to put the spicket back in the position it was supposed to be in, because it was bent sideways. That seemed to just finish it off. Water was going everywhere. I ran to the street to try to turn of the water. I have never seen what is under the lid. But I got the lid off and saw the valve, but I could not turn it off. I could not budge it. I called over to Toby (neighbor across the street). He must have just thought I was saying hello cause he just put his hand up. I screamed back over him "I need your help!" He seemed to look past me this time to see the water coming out of the house. He came jogging over realizing what I was trying to do. He was unable to shut off the valve. He ran back to his house and brought a tool over and was able to shut off the water. I told him what happened. He said he could fix it. I asked him if he could fix it before Kipp gets home? But I must have interrupted him, because he said he could fix it if it was his house. He would not want to do ours in case something went wrong. So he went to get me a number of a plumber he knows. I then walked over to check on the girls. Mindy wanted to know what happened. I told her. She tells me Tanners dad is on his way over to pick him up for the weekend and matter of fact he is in the neighbor now, maybe he could do it, because he was a plumber. Cool right? When he pulled up I asked him if he would do it. He said he would do it for $100. I told him he was hired. This is when I called you and asked if we should hire a plumber. Cause the way I saw it, having no water for more than a few hours, trying to find a plumber on a Friday afternoon, much less how much would it cost for weekend pay after hours, I thought asking Tanner's dad to do it seemed like a great option. Now tell me, would you have wanted to hear all that on the phone or what I said when I called?
Me: First of all - good job. Secondly - Why did you even call me? :)
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Is yours like this?
I guess it goes without saying that mothers always think the best of their children no matter how we turn out or how old we get. My grandmother thinks the world of her son. My Dad's mom thought he could do no wrong. Ask my aunts if you don't believe me. Not sayin these fellas aren't good fellas but in the eyes of their mothers they are pretty high up on the tower of ivory.
Why am I thinking about this? Well my aforementioned grandmother was recently in the hospital. She had a few injuries that needed tending too after an unexpected fall. I took an extended lunch break to make a visit to see her in hospital. On my way into her room I of course had past a nursing station or two.
Do you ever get the feeling that if you make eye contact with the nurses they may ask you "Where the heck do you think you are going? or "Sir, you aren't allowed back here." I always walk with my head up and eyes forward like I know where I am going. If I get lost, which can happen in an instant in a hospital, I start patting my pockets acting like I forgot something and turn around.
I finally got to the room number mom had given me. I reach the number on the door. You guessed it, it was right by the nursing station.
As I am facing the door, with no name sticker to identify who is supposed to be in the room, knowing the nurses are giving me the evil eye for not asking them for a patient name this thought crosses my mind - a janitor's closet. What if I am about to walk into a janitors closet right in front of the nursing station? No. What I am thinking? My mom would not do that to me, she would not embarrass me in front a group of nurses.
To make things even more awkward, I suddenly remember how my preacher man father tells stories of his more adventurous hospital visits. "You never know what you are going to walk into when you enter a hospital room...even after you knock and somebody says come in!"
Not really wanting to experience a sponge bath or a potty break nor the shame of knocking on the janitors closet another thought hit me. If it was a closet, I could make a comment about the "23-19 code violation of not having a fiberglass door on a janitor's closet". (remember act you are supposed to be there - throw in some code violation jargon and people will leave you alone)
I finally knocked.
Am I the only one that gets the hebee-jeebees at a hospital? Really?
I decided not to enter unless I recognized the voice or the door was opened from the inside. I knocked on the door and waited for a response from my mom or grandmother. I heard mom say, "Come in".
Safely inside the room, I was able to shake off the feeling I was being watched. But once in the room I noticed something odd. There was no hospital bed. Even stranger there was no Nanna. I must have had a strange look on my face. "She just left to get an MRI. I tried to call you but I guess you did not get the call." mom quickly informed me.
After our hello's and an update on Nanna's status, she could not seem to wait to tell me all about how exciting it has been during their day and half stay at the hospital. "It's like a soap opera up here on the 2nd floor."
For example, the gurney men transporting Nanna to and from Xray, Imaging, and other places seemed to be quite the Don Juan Quixote's. According to mom, Nanna seemed to think they were trying to get fresh with her a time or two during her gurney trips. "They were being so friendly and talkative." Mom said the nutritionist seemed to be showing her some special attention. Although I later found out they had failed to bring them dinner the night before. Yeah you might get some special treatment from the staff if they failed to bring you a meal in a hospital. I told mom "you should not worry about all that, maybe they just don't get too many folks on the 2nd floor that can carry on conversation. Maybe these folks are just excited to have people to talk too?" She snapped "I don't think so son."
I told her, "Well I can't see any harm in folks wanting to carry on a conversation. Plus with all the people that come in and out of these rooms all day and all night I do not think you two have anything to worry about. Even so, you are right across from the nursing station. At least it gives you two some entertainment while you are in here."
Mom went on as if I was the one talking non-sense. She explained some more about a few apparent love affairs she had picked up on amongst the staff. Most of it seemed pretty normal to me, especially when you get men and women together in the same place for extended periods of time - they tend to talk to each other.
As my time started wearing short, I told mom to tell Nanna I was sorry I missed her but hopefully she would be out soon and next time I saw her she would home. Mom walked me out of the room into the hall and told me she loved me, thanked me for stopping by, sorry you missed Nanna, she would tell Nanna I stopped by, Nanna would be sorry she missed me, Nanna would be glad you stopped by, you better call her later...You get the idea, she was being a mom. I finally stepped in and gave her a hug and told I had to get going.
As I got about four steps down the hall from her I hear her say this in a bold booming voice, just a guess here but most likely directed at the nursing station, "That's my youngest son. Isn't he good looking?"
Pull the needle across the record. ~~screeeech~~
I did not even turn around. I just kept my head up and kept walking a little quicker than I had arrived. In case you haven't been following along, guess who seems to be generating all the soap opera story lines?!
As if that was not quite embarrassing enough, when I called mom later that evening to check on Nanna she tells me all about what happened after I left. "When you left I told those nurses at the station you were my son. One of them walked up and asked me if you were married. I told her you were; happily married." The lady then said, "Ms. Bedford it's just too bad he's married. I could make that man real happy." Mom started laughing she thought that was soo funny.
Deciding to turn the tide on my mom, I said as serious as I could muster in a low voice "Really? Which one was she, is she still working, is she still there? Maybe I might need to come back up there cause remember I didn't get to see Nanna."
"KIPP BEDFORD YOU MOST CERTAINLY WILL NOT!" in her scolding voice.
Starting to laugh now I said, "I might need to give that nurse a big hug for taking care of you two!" Realizing I was pulling her leg, she laughed, "You will not. Son don't talk like that."
Gotta love our moms. No matter what we do or how old we get...
Why am I thinking about this? Well my aforementioned grandmother was recently in the hospital. She had a few injuries that needed tending too after an unexpected fall. I took an extended lunch break to make a visit to see her in hospital. On my way into her room I of course had past a nursing station or two.
Do you ever get the feeling that if you make eye contact with the nurses they may ask you "Where the heck do you think you are going? or "Sir, you aren't allowed back here." I always walk with my head up and eyes forward like I know where I am going. If I get lost, which can happen in an instant in a hospital, I start patting my pockets acting like I forgot something and turn around.
I finally got to the room number mom had given me. I reach the number on the door. You guessed it, it was right by the nursing station.
As I am facing the door, with no name sticker to identify who is supposed to be in the room, knowing the nurses are giving me the evil eye for not asking them for a patient name this thought crosses my mind - a janitor's closet. What if I am about to walk into a janitors closet right in front of the nursing station? No. What I am thinking? My mom would not do that to me, she would not embarrass me in front a group of nurses.
To make things even more awkward, I suddenly remember how my preacher man father tells stories of his more adventurous hospital visits. "You never know what you are going to walk into when you enter a hospital room...even after you knock and somebody says come in!"
Not really wanting to experience a sponge bath or a potty break nor the shame of knocking on the janitors closet another thought hit me. If it was a closet, I could make a comment about the "23-19 code violation of not having a fiberglass door on a janitor's closet". (remember act you are supposed to be there - throw in some code violation jargon and people will leave you alone)
I finally knocked.
Am I the only one that gets the hebee-jeebees at a hospital? Really?
I decided not to enter unless I recognized the voice or the door was opened from the inside. I knocked on the door and waited for a response from my mom or grandmother. I heard mom say, "Come in".
Safely inside the room, I was able to shake off the feeling I was being watched. But once in the room I noticed something odd. There was no hospital bed. Even stranger there was no Nanna. I must have had a strange look on my face. "She just left to get an MRI. I tried to call you but I guess you did not get the call." mom quickly informed me.
After our hello's and an update on Nanna's status, she could not seem to wait to tell me all about how exciting it has been during their day and half stay at the hospital. "It's like a soap opera up here on the 2nd floor."
For example, the gurney men transporting Nanna to and from Xray, Imaging, and other places seemed to be quite the Don Juan Quixote's. According to mom, Nanna seemed to think they were trying to get fresh with her a time or two during her gurney trips. "They were being so friendly and talkative." Mom said the nutritionist seemed to be showing her some special attention. Although I later found out they had failed to bring them dinner the night before. Yeah you might get some special treatment from the staff if they failed to bring you a meal in a hospital. I told mom "you should not worry about all that, maybe they just don't get too many folks on the 2nd floor that can carry on conversation. Maybe these folks are just excited to have people to talk too?" She snapped "I don't think so son."
I told her, "Well I can't see any harm in folks wanting to carry on a conversation. Plus with all the people that come in and out of these rooms all day and all night I do not think you two have anything to worry about. Even so, you are right across from the nursing station. At least it gives you two some entertainment while you are in here."
Mom went on as if I was the one talking non-sense. She explained some more about a few apparent love affairs she had picked up on amongst the staff. Most of it seemed pretty normal to me, especially when you get men and women together in the same place for extended periods of time - they tend to talk to each other.
As my time started wearing short, I told mom to tell Nanna I was sorry I missed her but hopefully she would be out soon and next time I saw her she would home. Mom walked me out of the room into the hall and told me she loved me, thanked me for stopping by, sorry you missed Nanna, she would tell Nanna I stopped by, Nanna would be sorry she missed me, Nanna would be glad you stopped by, you better call her later...You get the idea, she was being a mom. I finally stepped in and gave her a hug and told I had to get going.
As I got about four steps down the hall from her I hear her say this in a bold booming voice, just a guess here but most likely directed at the nursing station, "That's my youngest son. Isn't he good looking?"
Pull the needle across the record. ~~screeeech~~
I did not even turn around. I just kept my head up and kept walking a little quicker than I had arrived. In case you haven't been following along, guess who seems to be generating all the soap opera story lines?!
As if that was not quite embarrassing enough, when I called mom later that evening to check on Nanna she tells me all about what happened after I left. "When you left I told those nurses at the station you were my son. One of them walked up and asked me if you were married. I told her you were; happily married." The lady then said, "Ms. Bedford it's just too bad he's married. I could make that man real happy." Mom started laughing she thought that was soo funny.
Deciding to turn the tide on my mom, I said as serious as I could muster in a low voice "Really? Which one was she, is she still working, is she still there? Maybe I might need to come back up there cause remember I didn't get to see Nanna."
"KIPP BEDFORD YOU MOST CERTAINLY WILL NOT!" in her scolding voice.
Starting to laugh now I said, "I might need to give that nurse a big hug for taking care of you two!" Realizing I was pulling her leg, she laughed, "You will not. Son don't talk like that."
Gotta love our moms. No matter what we do or how old we get...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)