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This is one of those must view shorts. I absolutely love Angry Kid, especially this one from this season.
http://atomfilms.shockwave.com/af/content/angry2_snails
Today was the day of free meals. The first meal was a wonderfully perfect German lunch. The head of the recreational therapy department on my floor found out that I am of German decent and thus love sauerkraut. She told me that she would bring up some "brats and kraut" homemade that is if I would like to partake of a meal from the mother land. It was awesome. I left the rec therapy room stuffed to the neck...I kept looking in the mirror thinking sauerkraut was coming out of my ears. Being my day off, I went home to rest up for supper at the CPE supervisor's house. Bob invited us to his house for an evening together away from the hospital...for sanity. Surprisingly, all of us interns showed up and even two residents. I had bets out on who would actually show up, because some of us don't seem to...how shall I put it...get out much. Well, this evening was the exception. We had a good evening eating to our hearts content and then topping it off with the highlight of the evening...Keylime Pie. Mmmmmmm, Mmm! Other than eating, nothing of note happened today, but this should be to no surprise...my life revolving around food.
Look at the product of my labor. It was a labor of love...okay, one afternoon. The bishop has some grapevines growing on his backyard fence. I don't understand it, I was told that grapevines are labor and time intensive, but the bishop doesn't do anything with these vines, but allows the rain to fall on them when it does rain. I went out there one day a couple of weeks ago and found a few beautiful looking bunches of grapes but didn't pick any. Fast forward to today. I couldn't help myself. I just had to go pick some grapes...if there were any good bunches left after the birds had their pickings. I did find quite a few bunches and clipped them off. I tried on and immediately found that the seeds were bigger than the ones in the store, big enough that spitting them out is preferable. Despite the seeds, the grapes are pretty tasty. I have thought about making wine, but need the huge wooden tubs and about three barefooted beauties to stomp the grapes. I will, however settle for two...any takers? Please send a picture resume. What I mean by a picture resume is a full body color picture that has not been digitally touched up nor airbrushed. I will post my acceptances on this blog so check back.--Okay I'll stop day dreaming...at least on this blog........
Let me tell you a tale of a small yet affective affirmation of my vocation.
Tonight I accompanied Ben, our evening chaplain (3:00pm - 11:00pm shift), to the Surgical Intensive Care Unit (SICU--pronounced `sĭk-ū'), not to be confused with Medical ICU (MICU--pronounced `my-kū'), to be with a Catholic family when they visited their loved one in SICU. The patient, whom I will call Joachim Xavier, was unconscious and not doing well, so the visit was going to be more the family just being there with Joachim Xavier. Ben introduced me to the family and then stepped aside to let me minister to them in a way that he couldn't...he was not Catholic, which is one reason why he suggested I come. As I stood there at Joachim Xavier's bedside with the family opposite me, my mind was racing. I wanted to say something to get the conversation ball rolling, but what can you say. "How are y'all doing?" just doesn't work well in this situation. I mean the family present was comprised of four females and I didn't want forty sharp claws digging into my flesh for my insensitivity, because of course they weren't doing too well. After a period of silence, which I found uncomfortable, I fell back on a CPE Intern Chaplain's standard phrase: "Is there anything I can do for y'all?" This was the only thing my mind could find to say that was least likely to result in bodily harm to my person. The immediate response was: "Pray." I offered a prayer modeled after a couple of prayers for the dying and the family of the dying. Seeing the papally blessed rosary the daughter placed in Joachim Xavier's hand I offered to pray a rosary with the four ladies, of varied relation to Joachim Xavier. --I don't know if "papally" is a word...there is a red squiggly line under it as a hint. I may have made it up, but oh well, deal with it.--I had offered to do it in the waiting room after visiting time was over, because I figured they wanted some time alone with Joachim Xavier.
This is where the title comes in. Throughout the visit, I achingly desired to do more for them...to perform a more priestly function, i.e. Anointing of the Sick or give a priestly blessing. Knowing my place, I did what I could do and offered to continue to pray with them and to offer up a rosary with them. They made it known that praying the rosary was more desirable to them to do it right there in the presence of Joachim Xavier; so while other families visited with their loved ones we prayed a rosary without concern of being heard by others. The end of the rosary coincided with the end of family visiting time. I excused myself and left the bedside with the priestly desire remaining. I know that one day, God willing, I will be able to offer the sacraments, almost upon request, as well as priestly blessings and such.
cheeky
Check out the following link. It isn't fun unless you have your speakers on.
http://www.linksrv.com/pull.php
(Call it an infantile response, but I could stop doing it, even in a public place.)
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Some interesting things about Lubbock:
1. Everyday is Sunday here, or at least for the cars on the street. They all drive blindingly slow. Our minimum speed is their maximum. If the speed limit is 40 miles an hour, they stop short of passing this limit and most often go well slower. This does not apply solely to the little old ladies who take up two lanes with the barges they drive; it also applies to many others in their missiles for cars. I fear that they buy these speed demons ignorant of their true potential, because they take them puttering down the major thoroughfares of Lubbock.
2. The drainage system of Lubbock is its streets no matter how major. Unlike the drainage systems where the water empties into an underground system, here the water can go nowhere but the low spot, until it evaporates, granted many low points are parks designed to gather the water. The low spots in the streets retain water to be barely disturbed by the slow moving cars until it evaporates. (Contrarily, I am like a little boy doing what I can to splash the water around.)
3. It is easy to get around Lubbock for the most part because the roads were set up to a grid running North, South, East, and West. The lettered and named roads run North and South and the numbered roads run East and West.
I was invited to a Jamaica in the grand city of Idalou, TX. For you white guys and gals, that is pronounced like ha-my-ka. I didn't know what I was getting myself into, but accepted the invite to go with Fr. Peter, the priest chaplain at CMC. For those of you who want to know what a Jamaica is before I continue with my experience of it, I will tell you. If you don't want to know just now skip the next sentence and come back to it if you still are clueless. A Jamaica is basically a church festival/picnic that lasts all day and night pretty much. Okay, now for my experience. Idalou is about 9 miles east of Lubbock, so we are that much farther out in the middle of no where. We arrive at 2:00 to the already bumping Jamaica, which stared at about 12 noon. He fills in at the parish when the pastor is on vacation, which explains why we don't take three steps without someone walking up and talking to us. We walked from booth to booth seeing what they had to offer, primarily foodwise. Lucky me, most of the booths were selling food, from tamales and burritos to turkey legs and grilled corn-on-the-cob. Meanwhile, a Tejano band was playing and everyone was sitting under tents listening. Without the tents the people would have been baked to a crisp in two hours with the heat. I felt like I was at a Hispanic version of the Shirmporee, the parish picnic at my home parish in Palacios. The band situation was different though. A band would play a short set and then switch out with another band. This would go on until about 9:00pm. When I found this bit of information I started praying that we would not stay the whole time. I have never been to any church picnic that lasted more than three to four hours. I don't know how they do it, though I did also find out that the parish only has a Jamaica once every two years. Father and I stayed for the greater part of the evening. I tried to keep my head under the tents as much as possible because God has started taking my head sun screen away...that is my hair for those of you who didn't get it. I still ended up getting burned and had to gingerly wash my hair (that is the one left) for a week. I looked like the number 3 billiard ball. A main difference of this Jamaica and other church picnics down south is there was no auction. Of course there was a raffle. I think that is a pre-requisite for picnics. Anyway, that is the basis of my experience. I will go now because there is a band practicing VERY LOUDLY and my brain is being bombarded with noise with is hindering my thinking ability. Kind of like that book (1984) where a loud noise would sound in someone's ear to make him forget things. Well the snare drum is doing that to me...owe...owe...owe...owe. Got to...owe...ummmm can't remember...
Today I saw the most beautiful thing and experienced something of nostalgia. First, fifteen minutes into lunch I was paged to support a family whose loved one was passing away. I did not fully know what I was getting myself into, and was not ready for what I would witness. It was the most beautiful thing, I think the good Lord has allowed me to witness. Many family members were in the room and were given an opportunity to say their good-byes and then the lady peacefully passed away. I could not have asked for a better event at which to be present. I felt an amazing calm as this child of God was called home. I can only hope and pray to go so peacefully. This summer's CPE is giving me many irreplaceable experiences that I would not trade for anything in the world.
The day was capped off with an evening of nostalgia at the drive inn theater. Lubbock is home to a two screen drive in theater that plays some of the newest releases with not so new releases. My case was unique, because it was two relatively new releases--"Spiderman 2" and "The Notebook." The first movie, of course, was an exciting comic book come to life, but the second was a mushy love story that I pegged within the first ten minutes and even slept through parts of it without missing anything. A unique aspect of this theater is that it broadcasts the movie soundtrack via radio waves. It was a great way to cap off the day and the workweek.
Covenant Medical Center was accepting donations of blood, with the promise of a shirt--not one-size-fits-all--and the possibility of a metal mug. I went all excited up to the place of donation and expected to have no problems like always; even with questions like have you reused needles after someone else for any purpose? Um...no! Getting rejected was the furthest from my mind, but the unthinkable happened. Evidently, drinking after someone is cause for rejection...by finicky girls, but not from donating blood; however, recently visiting a place like Honduras is. Who would have guessed that doing the Lord's work would hinder me from donating, but of course this was the Lord's work in another country...a country that just happens to have a high risk of Malaria.
I was not at all disappointed with the rejection, though I had wanted to help out with a donation. Nevertheless, I didn't leave empty handed. The check-in ladies offered me a shirt anyway, just for offering to donate. I didn't get any cookies though. Sadness. :-( The good news is I get to donate in March of 2005...or at least attempt to do so again.
Fr. Rodney, a priest friend of mine, invited me to see the drum & bugle show, "Thunder in the Dessert," there in Midland. Michael Earthman and I were not able to get their early due to a late communion request at the hospital. We arrived just before the festivities started with time enough to eat the burgers Fr. Rodney got for us. The facilities, outside of which we ate and where the event was held, were phenomenal. Someone told me that the state-of-the-art stadium cost in the millions of dollars. Four bands competed, and I couldn't help but judge their performances myself. You may be surprised to know, that my judgment was identical to the judges. It was a fun evening that was capped off with an ice cream and a dog's tongue...not at the same time. The dog tongue was compliments of Fr. Rodney's overzealous black lab puppy, Shadow. Of course I pretty much got on the floor and wrestled with the lovable pup. The rest of the lazy weekend...which of my weekends aren't lazy? For that matter what day is not lazy?...incorporated a tour of Odessa, the hometown of Fr. Rodney, an evening with some Midland friends of Fr. Rodney, and of course two Masses celebrated by Fr. Rodney himself. It was nice to get away from Lubbock for a weekend, though the scenery didn't change much.
One interesting site we also saw was West Texas' version of Stone Hinge, which is located outside the Midland-Odessa College.
Well I witnessed my first wind storm. Luckily I was not in it, though I was told not to open my mouth during one unless I want to be swallowing mouth-fulls of dirt. It was cool to see from the 8th floor of the hospital. It happened last night when I was on call. Light posts, trees, signs, etc. were blowing around in the wind as loose garbage tumbled by. It was an interesting sight to see. People here in Lubbock must be used to them because the traffic did not stop or even decrease. Everybody just keep going about their business. Mother nature even gave me a light show during the wind storm. Lightning would light up the whole sky and for a brief second I could see as if it was high noon. Even on a rare occassion, a bolt would strike the ground. I stared for about twenty minutes in wonder at the marvel I was witnessing and, of which, no one seemed to take notice. Those poor blokes.
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For those of you enamored with my life and wonder if different things happened, like for instance...hypathetically speaking...not that anyone has asked proving either my exciting life claims or that there is little going on in this person's life that they are living vicariously through mine (Courtney Kana)...okay continueing with this completely hypathetical question of "So, did you have that funnel cake?? :)"
The answer to this is...unfortunately no. The July 4th festivities didn't start around here until 7pm and by the time 7 rolled around I didn't feel like going out there. My tastesbuds still have yet to forgive me.
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Lastly, just in case you haven't noticed but if you would like you can comment on my blogs by clicking the link ("post your comment") below the correct blog entry; however, know this, I have final veto power...so if you write complete dull and boring comments...poof it will disapear faster than you can audibly and correctly pronounce "&%*$(#(%&." :-)
