The life and times of a little hippie in the Bersagel-Briese clan.
As we sit here and grieve a new loss, we are reminded of another that occurred 11 years ago today. There are no explanations that this universe holds that would make us understand why these two losses had to happen so close to each other; but I have to think that as sure as the sun rose this morning, Uncle Jonathan and Nephew Liam held each other in tight embrace.
In the hospital, it turns out that there are a lot of little symbols of status or culture. Take for example the lab coat. A early 20th century icon of smarts that has somehow hung on well past it’s usefulness – at least the layman’s perception of that usefulness (although I suppose that there is a place for it in a laboratory while actively participating in some research). Honestly, there are not a lot of people sporting these overgrown pocket protectors, but it is interesting to observe the individuals that walk the halls of the hospital with them on – and there are these odd groups of coats that wander together: talking and walking at high speed without ever stopping. Nobody knows exactly who they are or what they do, or for that matter if they are even real. I can’t figure out if they are just geeky types that don’t care what people think, or people who care way too much what others think.
This post originally was going to just be about the lanyard – and we’ll still get there – but I have to make one more stop on the way to that discussion with a brief note about shoes that the staff wears: Danskos – with a random pair of Sketchers walking about. Clearly they are the most comfortable shoes to do this job in and there are no qualms with it; but if I could make a recommendation to the suits at Dansko, it would be to open employee shops at major hospitals – you’ll make a mint.
Finally on to the lanyards. These things started out as a way to display your employer issued ID cards and soon added security passes, calendars, fact cards, info cards, etc. Then at some point, someone realized that they weren’t just for displaying those things…they were for proudly displaying those things…and they could make a business out of helping people become proud. There are all sorts of these affectionate displays including your alumnus or the college that you cheer for, professional sports teams, ski areas, medical equipment companies, units in the hospital, etc. I can’t blame people for finding places to express their individuality within the world of hospital scrubs and lab coats; but it does make you want to go up to some of these folks and ask what they’re trying to say. I thought about creating one that would say “This Is Just A Lanyard” – but then I realized that would be just the same as all the rest.
PS – I haven’t seen a single one of the NICU staff (doctors or nurses) wearing either the lab coats or the lanyards.
One more note: I tried to find someone that was sporting the trifecta of fashion discussed above for a photo for the blog – and that might be the most elusive of all.
The 10th Annual 36 Hours For Kids is hopping in the main lobby of the hospital right now. We’ve honestly never heard of it, likely because we have never either stepped foot in this hospital prior to Dec 19, nor do we ever listen to the station that hosts the radiothon. Both of those excuses aside, it’s a really cool and useful even that raises money for various needs in the hospital. I know that for example, the south side of the NICU was outfitted with new monitors for each room with money raised from previous year’s efforts. They are broadcasting live for three consecutive days in the lobby and accepting phone, walk-in, and internet donations for the cause.
Here is a link to the web page for the event.
The view from the fourth floor
Well, we have been here a lot longer than any of us have anticipated…so, it’s time for a quick revisit to the answers to see if they have changed or been rethought at all.
Where are you sleeping? On the same crappy bed, but it seems to have gotten a lot crappier over the past several weeks. We are still both staying each and every night here (also meaning that our parents are still shouldering the load of watching Ezra – and doing it beautifully, if I might add). Unfortunately, beds don’t seem to grow over time – no matter how much you wish for it. The good news is that our oft-wondered question has been answered in the affirmative: If you through-hike the Appalachian Trail, do you think you could stand months on end of sleeping on a thermarest? Ok, that has never been a question that has seriously been asked, but still the answer remains the same…and the thermarest might even be more comfortable.
How is the cafeteria food? Although the ketchup situation resolved itself with the help of friends from Ohio, the overall food situation hasn’t improved. We have broken out of here for a few meals, and we have had family bring us some stuff; but 7 weeks of eating away from home is getting really old no matter how you cut it. We have found some ways to cope by bringing stuff in (cereal, snacks, etc), but we are still often limited to the offers from the kitchen staff downstairs – I can confirm that they have a very limited vegetarian selection….and I know that both of our digestive systems have undergone a reconditioning that will hopefully make them tough enough to handle the most remote food options after this.
How’s the drive? Well, you’ll have to ask our parents that question. Due to a combination of Liam’s condition and the weather over the past two weeks, we haven’t gone home. We just don’t want to end up that far away if we are needed here…and a lot of snow on the roads have really hampered any thoughts of going somewhere other than the occasional local Target run (it isn’t the snow that we are concerned about, but the fact that we would end up 35 miles away with slow driving people in our way). Since we haven’t been able to go home, our folks have been more than accommodating in figuring out a way to get themselves and Ezra up here almost everyday – which is always a remarkable bright spot in the day.
Showers? I think that we have figured out that the earlier you go, the warmer your shower is likely to be…which is somewhat confusing to me since we are in a 24-hr hospital. It’s bizarre that they are apparently on a limited water supply that would rival most residential home systems. When we were still going home pretty often, it was nice to be able to shower there and do the things that take more time and space (good clean of hair – for Ahna…the jokes about me are too obvious, a shave, etc); but since we are showering here, we are forced to make due with what we have…and Ahna can confirm that blow drying a head full of hair in a steamroom is annoying at best; and I can confirm that trying to shave using a sink with an automatic faucet that times out and stops working after a little while will make you want to say a lot of four letter words.
Do you get sick on those elevators? Still no, but we are completely sick of the elevators. There seems to be one that breaks down fairly often, leaving the vast majority of people fighting for space on the other one….and because of this, you can count on stopping at each and every floor each and every trip up and down. We do try to take the stairs when we can (even though they are completely out of the way…very poor design), but sometimes after that cafeteria food it just isn’t that good of an idea.
How are you doing? If you’ve been keeping up with the blog, you could probably come up with the appropriate answer to this question. Still mostly the same, but really stir crazy right now…and really wanting to be back home. We have found a game that we have been playing back and forth to occupy some of our time (Words With Friends…do you have the app? If not, go get it…and let me know your username…maybe we can play sometime).
Update on the nurses and the pumps….not really an update to a FAQ, but an update none-the-less. A few days ago I did a posting about the pumps in the rooms and mentioned how it seemed that the alarms would inevitably sound whenever our nurse was unavailable. Since then, it was nicely brought to my attention (insert throat-clearing noise and sneaky look to another person here) that perception doesn’t always meet up with reality….and that the majority of the time the nurses are really and willing as soon as that alarm sounds. Because we truly have the best nurses available, it’s time to smile and not insert the sarcastic humor that would normally go here.
The hospital is like a casino. With hallways that have no windows, a staff that goes all hours of the day – fresh as can be, and no clocks in public places…you can easily loose time here. Oh, and there is a buffet here (we call it a cafeteria).
The hospital is like a fire station. Joking, teasing, drama…but always ready to handle whatever comes. People live and work here…nuff said.
The hospital is like a school. There is lots of learning that goes on here, from the nurses and doctors receiving lectures and training, to the parents and patients being exposed to worlds of information that they never knew they needed to learn. Then there is the cafeteria…like all other school cafeterias.
The hospital is like camping. You sleep where you hang out, you shower in communal showers (and not everyday if you don’t feel like it), you have to make you bed each morning and reset it each evening, and the nurses get to see you at all hours of the day: just waking, fully awake, napping, eating, on the way to the shower, dirty, smelly, clean, with PJs on, in bed, etc.
The hospital is like a fishbowl. Without the ability to completely close off the room from the hallway and the nurses desk, there is always someone watching – even if they aren’t sitting there, they are connected to the alarms. The room that we have is in the hallway that leads back to the staff amenities: lounges, offices, sleep rooms, and elevators..so we get to see everyone…all the time. Even if we pull the curtain near the bed in the room, it’s still not completely sealed from the rest of the room. On top of that, everyone knows what you and the patient are doing….it’s good (sharing of information, constant concern and checking in) and it’s bad (sharing of information, constant concern and checking in).
The hospital is like a prison. There are guards at the front doors to even get into the hospital. You have to wear a wristband and a sticker. You have to go through another round of security at the entrance to the NICU, and if you are a visitor, you have to be in the visitor log and receive a photo ID. Only after all of that, are you allowed into the secure and locked unit – with restrictions on what/who you can have in your room. And that cafeteria thing. Ok, really it’s nowhere near a prison, but…..
The hospital is like the interstate. To paraphrase lyrics from a favorite song: we have left but we haven’t quite arrived. It’s a constant place and feeling of going somewhere, but being nowhere.
The hospital is unlike home.
Yea, seriously. On the one of the very first days that we were here, one of the parents of a patient located across the hall (at the time) approached my Dad when I was down visiting Ahna. She asked about our last name….inquiring because she had the same last name. It’s obvious that there are other families out there also with the Briese name (although it’s not like Johnson or Smith), but I had never met any of them, let alone randomly ran into one of the them.
This family (still here as well) lives on a working farm in southwest Montana. They have lived there for generations, and it’s possible that we can loosely trace our roots back far enough to find the same distant relatives that came from Germany/Poland. They do do one thing rather differently….how the name is pronounced. We say it like ‘breeze’ and they say it like ‘breezee’. The Mom that we met was able to bring us a historical book that they put together for a relative tracing a lot of that person’s life – we took it and made a few copies before returning it. One of the things in the book was the family coat-of-arms (posted below), which looks familiar and different at the same time. I did a family history essay way back in high school and got our coat-of-arms from a relative…it could be the same, but I can’t remember. It’s a strange and unique thing to be in the middle of the NICU at The Children’s Hospital in Denver, meeting a distant family relative from Montana.
Of note: due to the lack of facility like this in a large multi-state region, a lot of folks come here from a lot of places…like Montana. These friends that we have made have set up shop in the Ronald McDonald house just up the street – so if you are looking for something to donate to, or just wondered if that loose change at the restaurant actually goes somewhere; consider that foundation as a good and worthy cause. It does really matter.
PS – Voltus In Hostem means ‘face to the enemy.’
As half of this family comes from Wisconsin….(sorry Johnathan, this had to happen. Denver folks: don’t worry, he’s a Broncos fan first. Jeff: nice try with the b-team stuff from Minneapolis.).
Ezra speaks for his little brother and the rest of us on this Super Bowl Sunday when he says: GO PACKERS!
There was a previous successful hijacking attempt on this blog about how to help Liam (now can be seen at the top), but this one is a little different: it didn’t start out with a disclaimer (although, I suppose that’s what I am writing right now) because it was in fact hijacked by me. It’s not too often that I get to speak with too many members of the fire service outside of the poor guys that I work with – so I am going to bend your ears for a quick minute.
Seven years ago a few of us started doing a stair climb on Sept 11 (it has been written about several previous times on this blog), and this past year we have teamed up with the NFFF to take the program nationally. The gist is that you get a building and 343 firefighters to climb 110 flights of stairs on the morning of 9/11. It’s a tremendous memorial, a great motivation for better fitness, and an amazing training opportunity. Our goal is to get 100 places doing it this year for the 10th anniversary…and we are on the way. 63 department’s have already expressed serious interest in doing one, and we are going to put them on at both the CFSI dinner and at FDIC. Now we need your department to join in as well (or if you are already doing one in your city, we need you to pass this along to all of your friends). It’s one of the most rewarding things that I have ever been a part of, and it’s something that I know thousands of firefighters are looking forward to each year.
It’s not hard – as a matter of fact, we have done a lot of the design work for you – there is an IAP available that will go over everything you need to get it set up. You don’t even need a tall building, or a building at all. There are several climbs that use smaller buildings, amphitheaters, or sports venues (FDIC will be done at Lucas Oil Stadium).
For more information go to both www.9-11stairclimb.com and www.denverstairclimb.com
I’ll get it out of the way first, to attempt to spare you the east coast centric hell-is-freezing news stories that have dominated the past few months (stop crying, it’s winter). Over the weekend it was 68 degrees. This morning it was -18 with a wind chill of -41. That’s cold….and you can see it in the photo below: that’s the window sill in our hospital room when we opened the curtains – and it’s inside the room (right off the edge to the right is the bed).
Liam’s day was again up and down. During his two decently longer naps, his vital signs were all over the place…again giving us more concern than normal. And even though he is getting anti-seizure medicine, there are still occasional signs that he might be having them. Also, he did finally loose that unappealing stump of the umbilical cord during a bath….revealing a clear cut innie (there was some question with Ezra).
Wow, that’s a lot of hits: sometime yesterday afternoon we passed the 100,000 hit mark. It has to be said that the vast majority of those hits have come in the past six weeks, which tells us directly how much we are loved and supported. I don’t care if all those hits are different people, or the same person…but each time that you visit the site, hit the refresh button, or pass it along to someone else we become stronger because you become part of our journey.
Thank you.
The Life of a Little Hippie 