True Friends
Some people claim to have a lot of friends, and perhaps they do. Maybe they have that kind of personality that just lends themselves to attracting and retaining people like that, or maybe they define "friend" differently than I do.

I have a lot of acquaintances, but very few people I would call "friend".

To me, friends are the people that you could be comfortable telling your innermost thoughts to and not even have to say "now please don't repeat this to anyone", because it's already a given that words spoken between yourselves are not repeated. A friend is someone who sees all your flaws and imperfections and accepts you none the less, and maybe even finds the humor or even loves the weirdness about you in some of your idiocyncrises. A friend is someone that you have shared a past with and built pet expressions that outsiders would never understand and old shared jokes that only friends will remember when a certain word or expression is coined or a look is given. A friend is someone you could call at 3 o'clock in the morning and ask them to come and pick you up because you are needing to get away from whatever or whoever, and know that they would be there. A friend is someone that has that shoulder to lean on, to listen to you ramble on and on during those times you would drive anyone else to the brink of drinking or to driving their car over a cliff...the friend would listen...over and over and over again. Sometimes the friend would give suggestions on what might help, or they might do some action to help, or sometimes a friend would just hold you until you figure out what you need to do for yourself. A friend never betrays you or what you have confided and they will always be there for you, even when they are silent and in the background...you still know they are there. A friend makes the time for you. Years may go by, distance may separate you, but you know the bond is still there.

I am blessed. I have this in my life. It's true, that there are not many, but the ones that I have are fiercely loyal and there is a bond between us that I am not sure that can be described to those outside it. It is something that has to be experienced to be understood, and if you've experienced it, then no explanations are necessary.

This is something I tried to teach to my daughter from the time she was a child, to judge her friendships carefully, and not be too cavalier with her trust. It was hard to see her get hurt by those that she thought were her friends, only to find out that they either wanted to use her or were "temporary friends" until someone newer or more popular came along. Parents always want better for their children, and want to spare them the heartache that they themselves had to go through, but I suppose this was a rite of passage that all children had to go through. Still, it tore my heart out to see her come home in tears because someone that she thought was her friend had betrayed a confidence and had hurt her.

She witnessed my own betrayals occur over the years as she grew older, usually at my workplace. I found that with my position, being one of Administration, this created a problem to try and form any kind of friendship at work because there are always those that want to get what you have, and they will try to do it at your expense, and even if it means trying to step on you to get there. There is probably a lesson there too, never attempt to try to entertain the concept of ANY kind of friendship in your work environment, unless you are on equal status. Keep work and home separate, which I later found works best for me anyway, but that's for another blog.

My daughter witnessed the beauty of the more rare and treasured friendships as she was growing up, however. And it gave her an idea of what true friendship was supposed to be about.

My father always told me that "if you could count your friends on one hand, you have a lot." I know what he meant. He meant true friends. He had that in his life. My mother has it, probably on both hands! But you'd have to meet my mother...she's as close to a saint as they come, so it's small wonder.

As for me, I have my small circle, but oh what a circle it is. My circle is pure as gold and more treasured than any jewelry I could ever be given. (And for those of you that know me...THAT speaks volumes! LOL)

I admire one of these friends tremendously. He is a very rare and unique individual. I've known him since I was 3 years old and he was 4 years old. Let's just say...it's been a while, okay? I love him dearly as though he were a part of myself. He IS a part of me.

I admire the way that early in life, while so many of us floundered around, he really found himself and what he wanted out of a relationship...or rather, what he would and would not be able to compromise with, and he didn't make the mistake of settling for something less. He is still looking, but he remains true to himself. It took the rest of us so much longer to figure all of this out. He is funny, one of the smartest people I know, has an edginess about him that keeps me on my toes, and although I am convinced he has obsessive compulsive behavior, he isn't perfect, so we are able to be friends. He cares about those in his life, and I am privileged to be one of those.

He is just one example.

Some of my other friends happen to be family members, but they are also friends.

I grew up very much a tomboy, riding dirt bikes, deer hunting from the time I was 2 years old, and carrying my own gun by the time I was 8, hunting and fishing with my Daddy, scuba diving, etc. Pretty much all of my interests were "boy things" and I caught a lot of flack for hunting Bambi from girls when I was growing up.

During my elementary school and early teen years, I was more involved in helping my father reload ammunition instead of applying makeup and learning how to do my hair like other young girls were doing, so I didn't really fit in with them as well as I did with the boys. It may be the reason why still to this day, I find myself not really caring to be around most women too much.

The few times I have tried to form friendships with females, I have found them to be catty and generally backstabbing. At least with a guy, if he gets mad at you, he lets you know it and why he is mad at you, whereas a woman will generally go to everyone else except you...tell all of them why she is mad, and then one of them will come to you and tell you what the problem is, and by the time you confront the one that was upset, now it is all blown up and out of proportion.

I find I even prefer to work with men for the same reasons. It just seems easier. Besides, I am still a tomboy. I still like bikes, only I ride Harleys instead of dirt bikes now, and I still love to scuba dive, hunt and all....but I do wear the makeup and fix my hair now, but I guess that is why I still prefer the company of men over most women. We have more in common.

The two unfailing exceptions to this rule, however, were two women that I met after moving to New Orleans, and women that I worked with, one indirectly at one hospital and one that came to work for me at my hospital. I have tremendous respect for both of them, and miss them both a great deal now that they have moved to that foreign country named "Texas".

I feel that they fit the above described definition of a friend, however, they would both be limited to the abilities to "be there" because of logistics and financial responsibilities to their families...but they are friends, and I miss them.

One of them was in charge of the Oncology Dept at the hospital that I was in charge of the Neuro/Ortho/Med-Surg Dept. She has got one of the quickest minds and sharpest wits I have been around in a long time. I enjoyed having to challenge myself to keep up with her. She is a compassionate person that cares about everyone at her workplace (patients and staff alike) and loves her husband and two children like crazy. She was a refuge in the storm at the hospital and during some tough times when some bad news came home here. She was a rock and never minded when I called her. She forged information for me when my husband was diagnosed with cancer. She let me vent frustrations and fears when I didn't dare at home when he had so much to bare already. We'd sneak across the street to have lunch and vent about idiot things that took place at work. It was great. Being on the "essential employee list", we even rode out a few hurricanes at the hospital before Katrina, that thankfully, passed us by. I miss her.

The other female that I can count as a friend was one that I met at that hospital and then convinced to come to work for me at the hospital I had opened up in New Orleans east.

She was a delight. Again, funny, and very intelligent. I think these two things must somehow be requirements for my likings, as they always seem to show up as the first things I notice in someone. She has a devotion to her children that is beautiful to see...something that I admire. She worked her behind off and had her priorities straight in life, yet was so young. Very impressive. You see that in people, but generally not in someone young. I can't think of anyone that I enjoyed working with so much. We were quite a team.

Yes, I would say that all in all, though the numbers are not great...I am really a very lucky woman. I learned early on what true friendship was, how valuable it is, how much it should be treasured, and not to take it lightly. I don't use the term "friend" loosely...it holds a special place in my heart...it has to be earned.

Today Was A Good Day
Today was a good day.

It started with sleeping in a bit, then meeting up with my daughter, Desiree, so that we could make it for the grand reopening of "Whole Foods" on Magazine Street at 8:45 am.

We were delighted with the fact that the store was finally reopening because it meant not only a terrific store was coming back to our neighborhood, but also that New Orleans is coming back.

The store was abuzz with locals that were just as thrilled to see it reopen as we were. I didn't even mind the fact that I had to circle the store four times to find a parking place, something that in the past would have had me muttering like a long shore man.

We found our parking spot, got a buggy and off into the store we went. We were greeted by a full fledged jazz band playing live and KNEW we were home. Only in New Orleans would you have a jazz band and a brass band playing live for a grocery store reopening.

Free food and drink samples were abundant all through the store, and before we could even get to the second isle, we found we needed a second buggy. I knew what my weakness was going to be, however...Whole Foods was open again...this meant that Whole Foods' CHEESE DEPARTMENT was going to be open again!!!! There has to be cheese in heaven, right?

After Desiree made us start at the opposite end of the store, we weaved our way around the entire store, picking up odds and ends...pacing ourselves, and getting old familiar items that we'd waited so many months to get again, like Hansen's drinks, and organic portabellos and meats, and we even picked up a few things that they had on sale as part of their promotional sales for the reopening. I guess I will be trying my hand at buffalo ribeyes on the grill.

After what seemed to be an hour, okay, it WAS an hour...we finally made it over to the CHEESE DEPARTMENT, where they had samples...and where I proceeded to fill up the majority of my buggy. My rational behind this is that I am female, and as such, females need a certain amount of calcium in their diet every day to maintain strong bones and to prevent osteoporosis, right??? Okay, it sounded good, anyway. It must've sounded good to Desiree, because I stocked up on a ton of it and sent half of it home to her house without any argument.

We then went over to the wine department and picked up a couple of wines that we knew we both liked, and then we got with a couple of the "experts" and got them to check over our cheese purchases to help us figure out what would be good compliments for them. One of the guys told us that if we got 6 bottles or more, then we would get 10% off, so we should put them all in the same buggy (I told Desiree he always was my favorite guy in that department. She asked me if I didn't just meet him. I told her "yeah, but he was still always my favorite". She smiled and agreed and helped me transfer the wines to my buggy.)

Two hours later, we left there and headed home with our purchases and were elated.

I plan to put on my ipod tonight, soak in my Victorian bathtub, light candles, have a few grapes and some cheese on the little table beside the bathtub, a glass of wine, and stay there until I wrinkle like a raisin. I may even let the water out and refill it with warmer water again. Ahhhhhhhhhhh....does it get any better?

Life Is Strange, Isn't It?
Life is strange, isn't it? I've heard about those people that actually plan their lives out and then live them just like they planned them, more or less, anyway. I know not all the little details go the same way as they saw them in their heads, but some people grow up thinking, "Gee, I wanna be a teacher when I grow up" and then guess what? They grow up and they become a teacher! They think they will have 3 kids when they get married, and sure enough...they have just that. That's the kind of things I'm talking about.

My life has NEVER gone quite like I thought it would. Maybe it was because I had parents that were so ahead of their times, or maybe it was just me, or maybe I am a product of circumstance. Could be that it was a combination of all of the above, I just know that it has been one hell of a ride so far.

My father was quite a character. He was one of nine children born to parents during the depression. There were six sisters and two brothers, with him coming in somewhere around number six or seven, I think. I just know he was the baby boy, and the only one with black hair and blue eyes in a sea of cotton tops. He had a flirtatious nature that the ladies swooned over and was a man's man in every sense of the word, and he had a fierce love for my Mama.

My Mama was from a family of six children, the baby girl, and was only 19 to my Daddy's 31 when they got married. (He found out how young she was when they filled out their marriage license, and almost had a heart attack) She was raven haired, dark eyed and had six feet of legs that she generally wore dressed in stilettos. She was tall, a guard in basketball and voted best athlete her junior and senior year of high school. She was and remains a lady to this day, and she had a love for my Daddy that didn't end even with his death to cancer in 1985.

I don't recall that my father ever told me what he wanted to be when he grew up. He just went to work as a truck driver at aged 16, and never turned back. He worked different jobs and ended up in the oilfield business, where he stayed until he retired shortly before his death.

My mother told me that she had always wanted to be a nurse, but that she knew it would cost a lot of money to go to school for that and her parents simply didn't have it, plus they had two other children left at home, so instead, she had opted to go to business school instead. This is something that has paid off for her over and over to this day. She is a volunteer at the hospital and finds it rewarding, so she gets the best of both worlds.

Me? I had originally wanted to get into fashion designing, but in the small town in New Mexico that we were living, I would never have made it, and I was too attached to my family to leave and go to someplace like New York, Dallas, Paris, etc. So then I thought about Interior Design, but there wasn't too much out on the market about it back then. (Just think, I coulda been bigger than Martha! LOL)

I even had a full scholarship to Ft. Lewis College in Durango, Colorado. What happened? I got into an argument over a tardy with the one and only art professor when I left my sketches in my car one morning and had to run back out to get them after first period before coming to his class. He marked me absent before I got in the class and never went back and corrected it to a tardy.

Later in the 6 weeks, he posted it on the wall as an unexcused absence and told me I had D-Hall for 3 days. I explained I hadn't been absent, I'd been tardy, showed him the sketches he'd graded AND DATED for the date he was telling me I was absent. He wouldn't budge. An argument ensued and you can imagine. I was told he was dropping me from the only art dept in the school as a result. Goodbye scholarship. Not that having a scholarship was the key to my going or not, it was just that it was about the same time that I said goodbye to it that I was saying hello to a new boyfriend that later became a husband.

I never left town. I married a month after I turned 17. Life is strange, isn't it? I was NEVER one of those girls that had wanted to get married at an earlier age. I always expected to graduate college, get secured in a job and maybe even be climbing the ladder a rung or two by the time I married "Mr. Right"

It would take waaaay too long to explain all the things that went askew with that last paragraph. Let's just suffice it to say that we went through not only "Plan B", "Plan C" but a few more past then.

Somewhere along the way, art got slowly shelved further and further back, and a deeper layer of dust began to form. Nursing was the only means available to me for so long to support my daughter, that I had no other choice, but somewhere in the back of my mind, I always thought...someday, there may be someway that I can do it once my obligations are met to her.

Over the years, I worked as a nurse, mostly as a Director Of Nursing...or as my daughter likes to call it, "A Work-a-holic". I'm afraid she paid the price during those times. While I was trying to make sure the bills got paid, and that she had everything most other kids had, and "do it on my own"...I did put in some long hours, usually working 16-18 hour days, sometimes dragging her to the office with me, just so we could spend more time together. I kept telling myself it was all going to be temporary, that someday we would get it all together enough to calm down a bit, and at times, we would actually get a glimpse of it for a few months, but it never lasted long.

I found scuba diving in the 1980s and found that it has an art of it's own. It is almost Zen-like. By 1991, I was an Instructor. I figured by the time my daughter was done in college, I could travel and teach scuba. She was married and had a baby by the time she was 18. Life is strange, isn't it?

During a really awful time in my life, I actually got offered three Club Med jobs in the Caribbean teaching scuba lessons, but it would only have paid me enough to cover my expenses, and a little bit left over for some souvenir t-shirts, certainly not enough to be spoiling a grandchild.

And besides, by that time, I had already met people that were too much a part of me and my life.

So, that left me with working in the nursing field for a while longer. There is something that they should teach all fresh faced, young nurses while they are in nursing school, but I suspect they don't because they fear too many might drop from class. Nursing is hard work. It is physically demanding. Nurses don't get to wear the cute little white nursing uniforms we wore when I first started (not that I really mind this, you understand), but the point is, the uniform has evolved because the work has. A nurse will usually be required to work either a 12 or 16 hour shift...ON HER/HIS FEET! People are living longer now, but they are not always in the best shape, which means you will be lifting a lot of people, and we as Americans tend to overeat and indulge ourselves, so that means we will be lifting some really heavy people. Some of these people can't even roll over or turn themselves in bed, so you are looking at doing it for them every two hours. You will be doing it more often if that person is incontinent of bowel or bladder and has to be cleaned, and God forbid that they have medication or a disease process that affects their bowels and the frequency...plan to run in there every 5 minutes! We won't even go into the brain injured or stroke or Alzh. patients that are confused or combative and actually swing at you.

Top all of that off with the fact that you have to make walking rounds with physicians (ALL of them) and that they never come at the same time, so you drop what you are doing to work with them and let them know what is going on with their patients. It goes on and on.

Now, try doing that if you hurt your back...twisted your ankle, had a car accident. You are out of work. Or...like a year ago, when they diagnosed me with what they thought was ovarian cancer, and I had to go to surgery when I wasn't planning it. (Mine turned out to be benign, thank goodness, but I ran into complications and was off for an additional 3 weeks, for a total of 9.) You better have short-term and long-term disability. You are out of work. And if you don't get to come back when you are expecting..."sorry". If you happen to be the primary bread winner, tell your family "sorry".

Hospitals seldom offer retirement to any nurses except those in a managerial position. It is pretty much the same in any healthcare facility. Nurses need to plan retirements for themselves, but they generally don't, justifying that they can't afford it because they are just out of school, or paying back student loans, or finally getting to make some money and by the time they get around to it, the clock has been ticking.

This is what I have tried to do and why I have tried to advance myself over the years into more managerial positions. It has the ups and downs with it, having to deal with the responsibilities, and with a lack of family time, but offered long term goals and stability.

It is also one of the reasons why I had left the hospital I'd been at for the past three and a half years as a Patient Care Supervisor in Acute Med/Surg and Neurology/Ortho to take the Director Of Nursing position at a hospital that was to open in New Orleans east. Within 5 months after my cancer scare, my husband had been diagnosed with cancer and even though he never missed a day of work (thanks to the guys at the EMS station for all of their help and rallied support of him during that time) this was not an easy time for him. We were not sure if he would be able to continue to work, and it finally got to the point that he said he didn't think he was going to be able to continue. I'd been telling him to quit all along, but he kept fighting to continue. He continued and never stopped. Still, since the cancer wasn't encapsulated and had metastasized, microscopically, and he would be on treatments for 2 years, I didn't want him to be in a position where he felt he HAD to work. I already paid all the house bills and my truck note, the only thing he was having to pay was his credit cards and he bought a great deal of the groceries because he loves to cook and I usually screw up the grocery shopping..LOL. So, I figured I needed to find something and make "one more move...a last and final time" to a place I could stay with and retire.

Life is strange, isn't it?

I'd been offered a DON position 3 years ago with another hospital by their Chief of Staff, but had turned them down because I am so leary of Medicare and how some hospitals manage themselves and their viabilities as a result. This was especially critical to me after the first hospital I'd gone to work for in New Orleans, as a Case Manager, had gone through 3 management companies, before they finally closed in bankruptcy. I was offered another DON spot about a year before, but passed for the same reason. This one, however, appealed more so, because this one was being done by a rather large corporation owned by a local boy that had done well for himself. That sounded promising.

We'd gotten our hospital completed, got staff hired, got equipment in, got policies and procedures written, etc. State and Feds came in and checked us all out. We passed with zero deficiencies!!!! We started getting our patients in. It was running like smooth glass. We had just opened in May. It was amazing and I was so proud of us all. Then Hurricane Katrina came knocking and it was gone. Flooded to the ceiling.

The corporation ended up losing several facilities, and while the owner was checking into refinancing at a lower interest rate before the storm...now he has decided to sell off 80% of his corporation as a result of this...80% so far. It just went down on Friday. It also leaves me not knowing what I should do for a job.

If you've read any of my earlier blogs, you know I hate what I am doing with a passion (working a weekend gig at a nursing home...ewwwww), but I love the hours and the pay, so that more than makes up for it.

What you haven't read is this...I just got with a college here and was all lined up to take a course in Graphic Design and some others to see if my creative juices have dried all up.

I think I would like to try my hand at doing something else if it pays enough to cover my bills and give me enough left over to go and play a little bit.

Seems like everytime I start heading back over to the art direction, blowing the dust off the shelves, something wants to prevent it.

I'd figured this would be so ideal! New Orleans will have to rebuild herself for years. That is job security in itself. With my love of putting colors together, archetural details, fabrics, sketching, there just has to be something that I can do with it. My current work schedule would afford me the opportunity to go to school for this, as would my salary.

My daughter is raised, and my grandsons are living with her next door, so how perfect is that? Maybe that is what was wrong with it...it was TOO good.

You see, if the owner of the corporation has sold 80% of his corporation to a new management company, then the game may have just changed, because the chain of command may have just changed, and I suspect more changes are coming.

The corporation owned approx. 35 facilities, mostly nursing homes, a couple of LTAC hospitals, an asst. living facility, one high end apartment that has nothing to do with the healthcare field. These facilities are located in New Orleans, Baton Rouge and there is even one in Texas. Our Corporate Headquarters used to be located in St. Croix, Virgin Islands until just recently, because of tax breaks, however, when they changed some laws down there and the breaks were no longer beneficial, then the owner moved the headquarters back to Baton Rouge, where he is from.

On Friday, he closed the deal to sell all of his nursing homes in Baton Rouge. That part is fact. It is rumored that the ones in New Orleans are also going to be sold. No news on the Asst. Living, High end Apt, etc, but those are in Baton Rouge anyway.

The way the Chain of Command was working was this: The Owner, His Regional Manager, Me, The Administrator (and I were on the same level), and then the Director of Nursing, the ADON, Supervisor, RNs, LPNs, etc. The Regional Manager has been wound like an eight day clock, and I wonder if she isn't concerned about her own job security as well.

I am NOT a nursing home nurse. It ain't happening. It isn't the residents...it is the staff. I would have to kill them. I fire at least one employee and suspend 1-3 every weekend, and we are in desperate need of staff in New Orleans right now, but I guess I just have a higher standard of care expectation, and a zero tolerance for attitude. (Yes, I took pictures of my truck before someone decides to key it) And I have only had one "love letter" slid under my door so far that reads "WATCH YOUR BACK WHITE TRASH BITCH, YOU'LL GET YOURS SOON, I PROMISE YOU!" Great! Bring something to the party!!!! That was almost 2 months ago, and I still keep running them off.

But back to my issue. If a new management team is coming in, I figure they are going to find it difficult to justify paying a DON salary to a weekend special, and I can NOT do a week in that environment, so here I am sitting and brushing off a resume...again, damn it. Just hope I can get something that allows my classes to go on. Maybe I could do agency nursing, that would be flexible scheduling and pays pretty well too. So much for that one last move, one last time.

Life is strange, isn't it?

Photo Issues
Just a quick note to family and friends (and anyone else that might be clicking in on blogs out of interest...) I'd been having some issues with the photo album section of my blog. (I secretly suspect it has to do with the fact that there are pixs of myself on there and a higher power has decided to save the world the anguish), however, Tripod, in their infinant wisdom has pulled all the gremlins out of the electronics and so brace yourselves...we are officially back on the air!

Getting My Focus Back
Okay, it has been a while since our mayor had his moment of temporary insanity, slipped up and decided our city would always be deemed a "Chocolate City because of God's will", and has now made numerous apologies, stating that he is truely sorry for what he has said, for all the hurt it has caused, and that he did not handle himself or his enthusiasm for feeling like he was finally being accepted by his own race, or as he put it..."there was a stigma that Ray Nagin didn't care about black people and that he was a "white man in black skin".

He'd constantly been putting himself in the hotseat day in and day out, answering residents' questions on everything from levee repairs to concerns over still-broken traffic and street lights, homes hit with such devastation that they still sit vacant and sporting filthy water lines from the disastrous flooding caused by levee failures. When something positive FINALLY came his way, about the first time since August 29th...maybe even since he was voted into office, he got swept up in the moment and said foolish and stupid things. These things unfortunantly reflected not only on him, but also on New Orleans as a whole. That is the part that I am going to let go of now.

There has been too much pain and too much suffering. I need to get back to being focused on what REALLY matters to New Orleans right now. I am beginning to divert my attentions back to where they needed to remain, as far as during this "Re-New Orlean period", at least, and that is on our levee system, or rather, the lack thereof.

You see, we still haven't had a Class 5 Hurricane, but it IS coming. The tragedy of all that happened since August 29, 2005, is that Hurricane Katrina didn't flood New Orleans, it was that the Corp of Engineers didn't build the Levees to their own specifications, something that our Legislators have been fighting for since Hurricane Betsy in the 1960s. The Corp has ADMITTED the Levees weren't built to their own specs. And now we are only 5.5 months before hurricane season starts again.

What is the point in rebuilding anything if the levee system isn't there?

We won't go down without a fight, however. You can see pride on more and more residents, and in more and more ways. Some people sport their "New Orleans Proud to Swim Home" stickers on their vehicles, you see several "Welcome Back" or "Welcome Home" signs on homes or businesses all over Uptown, CBC, Metairie, and Kenner and on the Westbank. Mignon Faget said she couldn't keep anything in her high end jewelry store at Christmas that had a fleur de lis on it, from charms to pendants to stemware. People are sporting t-shirts that read "Re-New Orleans" and "Drove My Chevy To The Levee But The Levee Was Gone" and "Got FEMA?" and "I (heart) NOLA" and more. My own enthusiasm carried over into my living room, where I have an eggplant double camelback leather sofa and loveseat that I bought when I first moved to New Orleans and where I just painted the walls Ralph Lauren Polo Green with Gold Candlestick Trim. While I say all that with such detail, it is Blaine Kern Mardi Gras world in my living room, okay? My dining room walls are surrounded by New Orleans Jazz Fest Prints of Dr. John, Satchmo, Al Hirt, Harry Connick Jr. and Blue Dog. Yes, we all support NOLA with our pride.

There are now neighborhood meetings, Reunite New Orleans meetings, Rebuild New Orleans Meetings, Bring New Orleans back meetings, etc. People are actually attending them and listening and participating. They are starting to really care. They almost lost something so precious to them.

Even "natives" that thought it was too touristy to do something, or to go to certain places, now go and are grateful that they are still there. We all are.

I am saddened to hear that looting is still going on. Some call it looting. I call it grave robbing. It equates out to the same thing.

I worry at times about someone trying to come into the house here with the wall damaged so badly until it can be repaired, but then I think, well...it would be the L-A-S-T time they ever tried it. And worried as I might get, I find a renewed strength and an anger build, almost wanting them to just try it.

Blissfully, I managed to get the supplies, this week however, and have started to repair the wall, so unwanted entries should not be a problem, at least through there.

We are doing the work ourselves, partly because I still have not seen hyde nor hair of insurance just yet, and partly because I find a certain reward in doing as much as I can myself. I am learning in this process. Still, there are things that are outside the scope of my knowledge, and it would be nice to have the insurance check to be able to hire someone to do what needs to be done on all of it, but that's okay. We are still blessed. So very blessed. Eventually, we will get it all done. The walls will be repaired, the ceilings will be repaired, the garage will eventually be rebuilt, the fence will eventually be rebuilt, the house will be painted-both inside and out, and we may even be able to incorporate some changes that we'd been planning all along while we are at it. Gotta find something positive out of all of this, right?

Hopefully, all this can get done before I end up having to find a different job, and while I have my Monday thru Friday's available to work on it, but I don't know how much longer that is going to be possible, but that is for a different blog...

Mea Culpa, Indeed
Well...I see we (New Orleans) are still in the limelight of publicity, both on MSNBC and on AOL due to the fact that our Mayor, just a day after telling us that we are a "Chocolate City because God would have it no other way" and that God wants our city back because of our being in Iraq and so has sent the wrath of hurricanes down upon us...it seems that he has now apologized, thinking that he may somehow have possibly gone too far, and it just may be that he may have by chance offended someone. You think???

You think it is that, or the fact that he just saw his political career (and possibly any other high powered career) get melted just like his favorite delicious drink?

Either way, I'm still hurt.

I'm hurt not because I DO live in a "Chocolate City", because it was when I moved to New Orleans, and it has been every year I've been here. I could have left it when my hospital got wiped out and when my daughter and grandsons lost everything they owned and when the Hyatt closed down afterwards, thus creating her a lost job as well.

I have family in the northern part of this state, and could get a job anywhere. My husband's doctors were all gone, so we were going to have to find him new ones if they didn't return anyway. BUT WE CHOSE TO STAY!!!!! Truth is, I LOVE THIS CITY! And you know what? There are good and bad in all races, and pigmentations! And I love the quirkiness that comes with all the variations that comes in my beautiful city...so I dug in.

News Flash. I live Uptown. Yeah, in the area that our Mayor doesn't "care what they say". What'd we say??? If that statement was meant to generate a more African-American vote...take a look around at my neighbors. Vanessa, an African-American transvestite lives in the house next door with her hispanic boyfriend (but I believe hispanics were a whole other issue last month, weren't they?) Anyway, they own their beautiful home, which happens to be a double, and one half is rented out to, yep...a "chocolate couple and child". On the other side of me is another double, where there is a single mother and her two children (vanilla), and her neighbor is another "chocolate" family. On my block alone, there are at least four "chocolate" families, and there are several more on the street. I could lose count on the surrounding streets. We also have some hispanics, Italians and some Germans and one Welsh neighbor that I know of. I embrassed this neighborhood when I first found it and I find I love it more and more as time goes by. My point is, if I'd had a problem with the "pigmentation ratio"...I'd have already made a different choice, but the fact of the matter is...I looked at the people for who they were, not what they looked like. And blessedly, they accepted Pat and me for ourselves as well. We are a gumbo pot of different ingredients and we are each wonderful in our own ways. Of course, you can always throw something spoiled into the roux and it could ruin the whole thing, but that's been the beauty of it all...we've always watched out for one another. Neighbors in the truest sense of the word.

Second News Flash. I work because I have to. It is not a hobby. I am not wealthy enough to just give it all to charity, though I wish that I could. And as far as I can tell, none of my neighbors are independently wealthy either. Was his "Uptown comment" made to refer to the Garden District sector of Uptown, predomenantly white "old money", and if it is so... WHY? We in the Irish Channel have what we do because we work for it, the Garden District, because their families generally died and left it to them, and now they dearly pay their taxes to hang on to them. Still, why was a color issue brought into it or a section at all???? We are supposed to be a united front, fighting to bring our damaged and broken city back TOGETHER! But with that, comes a sense of pride.

I guess I am so hurt because I had thought that Mayor Nagin had understood all of this and really felt a part of New Orleans and of the people...ALL of the people. He certainly had stuck it out after the storm, made himself available and took a lot of flack when the heat was on, but I was so proud of him. "Was" being the key word.

I don't doubt for a minute that the apology that he offered today was a sincere one. I am sure that he simply got caught up in the heat of the moment, and because he did not rally many black votes when he ran for mayor last time, he wanted to do so this time by reaching out with black pride, but it was very inappropriate. People can take pride in where they come from, just as I take pride in my celtic background, without making oneself out to be someone that is not part of a team, and New Orleans HAS to be a team like it has never been before. I had thought Mayor Nagin was the man to lead us, and I'm saddened to find out that he isn't.

I realize that he made a "simple mistake". I mean, no one got killed by this action. No one was struck (YET), however, his words did cost us...they cost us a great deal, not just the billions of dollars in revenue (conventions that had scheduled for our Convention Center have already begun to start cancelling), but untold amounts of future earnings are lost to us all and our pride is damaged at a time when we were already so vulnerable.

We'd already suffered so much embarrasement when we'd had so much negative publicity with our Super Dome rumors of rapes, killings and just the filth in general...the damage done to the Convention Center and the things rumored to have happened in the bathrooms there...the NOPD either walking off the job or never showing up at all, or worse yet, becoming looters themselves and helping themselves to Cadillacs and Escalades that didn't belong to them... Then there were all of our displaced villians/criminals that proceeded to spread their activities to other unsuspecting and innocent cities to the point that they began to cringe to have to accept anyone from New Orleans.

Top all of that off with a feuding Mayor and Govenor and the help that had been called in like the calvary...well....let's just say...is it any wonder that Mississippi and the rest of the Gulf Coast are already getting their money and repairs done, while New Orleans sits around looking at one another, wondering which village idiot is going to be on television next?

We needed unity. Plain and simple, and I had thought he was the one that could bring something to the party. I was wrong. The closer it gets to election time...the more he says what he thinks each person wants to hear so that he can get their vote. Say what you mean and mean what you say, and if you can't be for ALL of New Orleans...then step down and let someone who is, get in there and get the job done.

"A Chocolate City? How about Cafe Au Lait?"
Mood:  down
I just have to say to anyone that happens to be reading this...first of all, on behalf of New Orleans...I aplologize.

We clearly have an idiot for a mayor. I am at an overall loss for words at this time, well, that's not exactly accurate because the truth is, I have about a million things running through my mind right now, and just can't get them to slow down enough to figure out how to word them in any sort of sense at this time because I am so angry and ashamed of what he has done to our city.

It's to the point now, that I hate to even endorse anyone or even commend them for anything they do well because then they seem to go and do something so incredibly stupid, but mannnn, this one took the cake!

I watched and listened in disbelief last night, to a man I'd been so proud of during the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, just cost us all here in the city of New Orleans probably millions if not billions of dollars to rebuild our already devastated city. Why? Because why in this world would Congress EVER decide to send us the funding to rebuild the city and the levee system the way it should have been built to start with, and why should anyone or any business EVER try to move to this city and build up our economy with leadership like Mayor Nagin demonstrated we apparently have? "THAT is what New Orleans has sitting in office, making decisions?? Deciding that the city should be "Chocolate", that it always has been and that "God wants it that way"???"

Funny, in all the efforts of rebuilding ANY devasted city, it was my belief that people were grateful for ANYONE that was eager to stay, or for those that were interested in moving to the city and digging in and cleaning up, getting themselves dirty and to make the city survive. Let's face it, our city doesn't exactly look quite as lovely as it once did, and it is going to take a lot of work and years to even get it back to where it once was...but it was also my understanding that our whole intent was to make it better...I never understood that it took a certain race or color to do that. I thought we were ALL God's children. Funny, I thought that was what Martin Luther King's beliefs and preachings were all about too. Sad that Nagin had to use a great man's celebrational day to exercise his chance to pander to people to try and gain a few more votes for an election that will be coming up soon.

SAVE NOLA...IT DOESN'T MATTER IF YOU ARE WHITE, BLACK, YELLOW, BROWN, RED, OR PURPLE POLKA-DOTTED! LEAVE THE SMALL MINDS AND RACIST COMMENTS OUT OF IT!!!! And God probably isn't too happy with a lot of things that are happening in this world (like racist small minded minds and big mouths being one of them, for instance) however, we had MEN that built our levee systems and they did a substandard job on them. The amount of money we were SUPPOSED to get from Congress, before some elected official stupidly offended intelligent sensibilities last night, however, and showed that New Orleans can't even get on the same pages, probably just cost us more than his political career.

Just In Case
Well here I am, sitting very surprised, and let me just add, very pleased with the fact that I have received very nice comments from so many on this blog, both from some family and friends that I had not heard from in so very long. Strange how times have changed. We used to pick up the phone and call one another, or walk across the street and have a cup of coffee and visit, and now we find ourselves "catching up" using this particular medium, and by way of little invisible molecules of electricity...beeming words and even pictures to one another thousands of miles away. In a word...awesome! In another word, lazy.

I used to be so good at writing letters, I mean real letters. When my grandmother was still living, I prided myself on writing to her, catching her up on things with not only myself and my daughter, but also with the happenings of my parents who were always so busy, being self-employed, and working from dark until dark. I knew that she liked to take those letters out and read them over and over, almost wearing the ink off the pages. It's like getting a beautiful card from a loved one, words that touch you somehow. This medium is fast as a blink of an eye, and has all the magic of sharing the photos that we might never get around to sending otherwise, but somehow...something has been lost. You can't hold it...you can't detect the aroma of a perfumed letter to a beloved. It's just not the same.

Still, with the hectic schedules, and with all the people that I would want to send something to, I'm afraid that this would be the only way that I would be able to send anything to anymore. Or at least...that will be my excuse...my crutch.

Even with all of that, this medium has, however, been such a blessing, because as I mentioned earlier, I was able to hear from so many that I truly believe that I would never have otherwise, and for that...I am so tickled!

I have an aunt that lives in northern Louisiana that wrote and told me how she and my uncle (now in their 70's and 80's) are doing, along with all of my cousins. I hadn't heard from them in years. She also told me about another aunt that had moved to that same town, and how she was doing. Electronic miracles.

A friend in Hobbs, New Mexico dropped me a short line, and I hadn't heard from him since the passing of my step-father in 2002. This man has been like a big brother to me over the years, and I miss him. Where does time go? It was good to hear from him. Another electronic miracle.

Time...that was one of the things that Pat and I had made a decision to make an effort to spend more of with one another...and on ourselves this year. I guess that was one of our New Year's Resolutions, (that and I want to try to eat healthier...not less, mind you...just healthier)

This effort to do more for ourselves has already created one obstacle for me jobwise. You see, if you have read some of my earlier blogs, you might have read that I do not care for where I am presently working...or rather, for what I am doing. I cannot, however, complain about what I am getting paid, since they don't want to lose me (their words) and told me they will keep me at my Director Of Nursing salary and benefits if I will just stay on with them until they can "someday" get my hospital open again, although we have no idea when (or if) that will actually happen. And I cannot complain too much about the hours, as I am working two 12 hour shifts on Saturdays and Sundays. There are problems with that only when our Red Knight group have events on the weekends...and that seems to be the ONLY time they schedule events. so, needlesstosay, that screws me up on getting to do anything with them ever again while working this shift. Still, you just can't beat the pay/hours. I just wish I could stand the job. It is miserable, and I can't seem to get past that.

The hospital I worked for before going to work for the corporation I work for now tried to get me to go to work for them as an admitting nurse in the ER, but I couldn't see taking the pay cut, so I passed.

They recently had a course in critical care offered, and I called to see if I could take it on Mon, Tue Wed (Pat is off on Thur-Sun, so it would give me Thur and Fri with him)but I found out the class day is Mondays and two days were with the preceptor on whatever their schedule was. No problem, I thought, as long as the classes run through April. I could do that. Then I found out, that the preceptors have to work every other weekend. That knocked me out with the other job. Oh well. So much for that. Not to mention an almost $10/hour pay cut. Passssss.

It's funny. One of my nurses that worked for me when my hospital was open is now fixing to go to California and work in their "in house pool" and work 5 days on and 10 days off at...ready for this??? $71/hr!!!!! Yep. Her sister-in-law is already out there and doing it, so she is going to share an apt. with her and 3 others that are doing it. Nice change, huh? And they talk about all the nursing shortages here in New Orleans. What is REALLY funny is that this same hospital has just signed a contract to bring in 60 nurses from out of town at a whopping $40/hr to start and they jump up to $60/hr for their overtime, yet do you think the nurses that stayed for the hurricane or hung in their after will be compensated like that? Nope. The hospital says they are bringing in those 60 nurses at that rate to get the other departments up and running because of the severe shortage they have. I ask you...don't you think they are going to have an even larger shortage once the existing nurses find out what the new nurses are going to be paid instead of them...with their $20-something/hour pay after they hung in there for them? Talk about a mass exodus. The hospital had better get ready to bring in even more of those out of town nurses.

It never ceases to amaze me the insanity of it all. They will pay outrageous amounts to out of towners and not compensate the faithful, when they could just help them out and get everyone what they need. For instance...Houston just hired a bunch of New Orleans' nurses, and though they couldn't afford the salaries listed above, they did offer an incentive..they offered to pay their house notes for a year. Granted, after a year, it's all over, but hey, it was an incentive, and their isn't a hospital using agency down there now, either. Oh well.

Well, I am not into traveling to California. At least, not right now . Now, if Pat ever retires, and wants to travel with me...who knows??? But I don't think I would want to leave my New Orleans for that long. Nah...I love my city and all it's quirks too much.

Still, if they are not going to reopen my hospital anytime in the near future...I will keep looking. Life is too short to be in a miserable condition...even for two 12 hour shifts. Who knows, maybe I'll go back to school and do something all together different, like something in art. Wouldn't that be something?

In the meantime, I'll keep plugging along. I'll keep my eyes open, my ears open, and my wits about me.

On my days off, I'll continue to try to get the house repairs finished, to do all the things we've been planning to do done, and figure that this schedule has happened for just such a reason. And on the days and evenings that Pat is off...we will do whatever he wants to do, like this Friday, when we will be going out to Byblos, a Mediterranean restaurant with his sister and brother-in-law. And I just might go ahead and take an art class or two during the week...just in case.

Posted by irishchannelrn at 3:05 PM EST

Updated: Monday, 16 January 2006 11:38 PM EST

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Make the time
A friend called earlier to check and see how we were doing, and to ask how our holidays had gone. We had a good time catching up with one another. This friend is one of the casualties of Hurricane Katrina, as she and her husband and children moved, never to return again, for fear of having to go through another storm and possible evacuation of a hospital. I miss her.

I think about how many friends like this I have lost, through this storm, or just over the years by distance and circumstances.

Pat and I are somewhat of an abnormality by many's standards. See, we are both professionals, working in the medical system, but between an age difference that we never seem to notice between ourselves (Pat is 18 1/2 years older than I am, though you would believe it)and add to that the fact that we have raised two of our grandchildren for close to 4 years, it kinda put us on the outs with some of our friends who are similar in age, because we were always having to deal with childcare issues. Now, however, for the past year, we have been groping with finding ourselves in a rather peculiar empty nest syndrome, because the children are back with their parent, and doing a great job. Still, it leaves us with looking at each other rather oddly, when you catch yourself leaning over to cut up the other one's meat.

Then, you top it off with the fact that my position has often required us to get dressed in a more formal manner for events, that Pat, in the past, has not been too warm and fuzzy over, but through the years, he has actually found himself enjoying, even the part of getting dressed up.

There is the other side of us, that ride Harley-Davidsons, wearing our jeans, t-shirts, and yes, in cooler weather...even our leathers. We are members of the "Red Knights", an organization made up of Firefighters, both active and retired, and their significant others that have a commonality of the joy of riding motorcycles. We have also been active, though not too much since the storm, in "ABATE of GNO", which is an advocate of education for bikers. Neighbors see this side of us probably more often than they get to glimpse us dressed to kill, so many of them think we are "just bikers" and all the that go along with that stigma. Others, however, like Matt and Mandy, that live across the street from us, or Vanessa, that lives next door, have a somewhat better overall picture of us, though I doubt they really have too much more than that. See, Matt and Mandy are busy in "the next generation", and are raising a beautiful baby boy, named Henry, and having to tackle all the decisions and guesswork that comes along with trying to turn a beautiful child into a responsible adult...something both Pat and I suffered along on our own, as single parents. And Vanessa, let's just say that she has her own trials and tribulations. We adore her, as well as how well she seems to master these.

Pat and I find ourselves in a position of having quite a few acquantances, but very few friends, as we have become quite selective over the years. This was something that he and I had in common when we met. We had several other things in common, but we also have some differences, but they only seem to make for us to have more to talk about when we come together.

For instance, I used to think I could cook. I can't. This became blatantly clear to me the first week that Pat and I were together, and he cooked with his Irish/Slovonian/Cajun background. I was an amateur, not to mention, that I used to cook healthy foods only. Need I say more?

I, on the other hand, prefer art, painting, the joy of creating for asestic purposes, whereas my loving and doting husband, prefers to create something that works, be it a motorcycle, a motor, etc.

We are both scuba instructors (that is actually how we met), but both of us have found little time in the past couple of years to even dive, but even then, I think I prefered to be under the water, while he would have enjoyed being above it, catching the fish of a lifetime.

He is a retired New Orleans Firefighter, and now working as an EMT. I got into nursing rather by accident, and was a Director of Nursing for a newly opened hospital in New Orleans' east, before the storm, and now find myself working a weekend special, and STILL wondering how I got into nursing instead of art to begin with.

We both enjoy hunting, but that is also something that we have never done together, though we talk about it often enough. It isn't that we don't try, you understand, it is that, unlike when I was growing up in New Mexico, and had the ability to just drive outside city limits to go hunting, here, in New Orleans, one must make special arrangements with someone to hunt on their property, or join a club, or you may even have to drive to Mississippi to try your hand there. It never seems like we have the time to put the effort into this.

We both like to read, and long before I moved to New Orleans, I was a fan of Anne Rice books, something that I seem to have turned my husband onto. She wrote so vividly and descriptive about the city I love. I felt I was actually here, even before I could move here.

We both enjoy travel, but it seems work restrictions, even more so than the money, keep us from doing this more often.

Most of our friends are in an age bracket where their children have all grown up and they may even be grandparents themselves. At times, however, one of my co-workers, who may be in their 20's wants us to go and do something with them, and they seem to find it extraordinary that we, a generation (or two) ahead of them, can "get down and get it on" with the best of them. We actually become hip in those moments. (Something that I am sure that my daughter cringes over) But we get asked to join them over and over, so we do when time allows, however rare that may be.

Many of our friends are divorced, as seems to be the way of most marriages anymore, and so, it leaves us with more single friends than couples. Oddly, most of our single friends don't do like the televisions would have people thinking...it isn't a new person with the friend . As a matter of fact, we seldom even meet the people they date before they have broken it off for one reason or another. They tell us they are just very selective, and we admire the fact that they know themselves well enough to know what would and wouldn't mesh. That isn't really a bad thing. Have you ever noticed how you can really like one half of a couple, and just barely stand the other?

Pat and I both like wines, cheeses, and the comfort of relaxing with them both, yet, most of our friends see only the Sprite/Coke drinking part of us, as we both don't want to drink and then get behind a wheel or on a motorcycle.

We both like going to flea markets and antiquing, but a great deal of walking becomes a little tough on Pat's knees after an accident he had years ago, so we do it in spurts.

We both enjoying fine dining, but this is another thing that is difficult with our work schedules.

We find that we have to make a conscious effort to do anything with friends, or family for that matter. Is it just us? Are we just that hectic?

Maybe for 2006, we can make a point of scheduling more time to do things with our friends, and maybe even some of those acquantances, and just get to know each other a bit more.

Yippie, 2006!!!!
Well, this is the start of a brand new year, and Pat and I couldn't be more thrilled.

We brought closer to 2005 as a couple, grateful for all the blessings we have in our lives...mostly for the pure and strong love of one another. We actually got to go out and celebrate our unity, despite all the odds of the past, by getting semi-dressed up for the occasion (Pat wore a navy blue turtleneck with his jeans and flannel lined denim jacket, and I wore a white turtleneck with my jeans and pale pink suede jacket that has just been waiting in the closet for just the right occasion. It almost never got worn, thanks to Hurricane Katrina and our failed levee system.)

Pat and I have tried for the past several years to go out and celebrate New Year's Eve, but something always prevented us, either baby-sitting grandchildren, or an ailing parent. This year, we were determined, and even though our plans in past years had included tickets to some formal dressed event and festivities...of which we usually just considered our purchase of tickets a donation, because of our always having to cancel our plans... we stood fast with plans this year, announcing to parents of grandchildren months in advance, that WE were going to celebrate the close of 2005 and the beginning of the new year. We felt like teenagers finally getting permission to go out together.

This year, we dressed for a fabulous dinner at Red Fish Grill on Bourbon Street in the French Quarter, and even though we had to wait for over 2 hours for our table to be ready (they would not take reservations)...we enjoyed the company of one another at the bar, not to mention the best margaritas we've ever had. Pat also spent a great deal of that time trying to figure out what the secret recipe of their sweet and sour mix was. Bribery was not above him, but to the credit of the bartender, he held steadfast by his secrets, and just continued to bring the concoxions to us. By the time our table was ready, so were our appetites. After a lengthy mental debate on the filet mignon or quail, I finally decided on the filet, and Pat enjoyed the red fish. Both of us were pretty well miserable by the time desert and cappuccino came around.

We later strolled, hand in hand, to the river front, only to have a really thick fog come rolling in, so thick, in fact, that they canceled the fireworks display that local citizens had provided the cash for this year. (Harrah's usually funds this celebrational event.)

It wasn't important, we held each other closely, looked into each other's eyes, and the same feelings that my husband was able to stir in me almost 7 years ago, when we met...was even stronger.

We came to rest finally on the tailgate of our pickup truck, until the stroke of midnight, and the promise of a better year coming with it. With the noise makers and horns that we'd been given in the restaurant, we joined in with all of the other citizens of our broken city, a city that refuses to die.

We were so thrilled to see how many people came out to bring in the New Year, and then to read today's newspaper about how the numbers of New Orleans' census is way higher than they had expected. We all know that it will take years to get back where we need to be, and hopefully, the promises of making New Orleans even better than before will remain true. Our mayor seems to feel that way, as I watched him on "Face the Nation" today.

Pat went out and actually found a store open to buy some last minute things that he thought we might need, including me a newspaper to read...."The first one of this year", he told me as he handed it to me. I curled up with my feet tucked beneath me, sipping on my Community Coffee with chicory...a fine New Orlean's tradition in it's own right, while my loving husband cooked the traditional New Year's Day menu with Black-eyed peas for luck, cabbage for prosperity topping the list. We even gave some to Tegan, our six-month old Pembroke Welsh corgi, just to cover all the bases.

Later, we curled up next to each other and took much needed naps, and just lounged in the luxury of one another and the contentment that no matter what 2006 may bring us...we will do it together.