Okay, so it has been a long standing joke between my wife and I that I may very well be the woman in our relationship. I’m the first one who wants to document major life events with a smattering of home movies and pictures, and if left unchecked our house would become almost completely indistinguishable from a really horrible stream of Facebook postings.
“What is that picture?” someone may ask, perplexedly.
“Oh, that,” I say with pride, “that is our first grocery store shopping experience!”
I would continue with a long explanation of what would likely bore the hell out of even the most optimistically enthused individual as we continued down the wall through rows of seemingly mundane memories. Now that we have a child on the way, I can only imagine what horrors will befall them as I imagine the two of us in front of the television next to their significant other and my trusty shotgun (an essential accessory for all major encounters with any future significant others) as we pour through hours of embarrassing photos and videos involving first potty trainings, the essential naked baby pictures, and any other embarrassment I feel like exposing them to.
All of this I had known preceding our marriage, but what I had not known was how much my already endangered gender specific parts would be threatened by the constant flux of hormones oozing from my wife. Pregnancy is known to produce erratic behavior in women through the influx of hormones, but why is it that I find myself as the one who feels a strong underlying desire to cry during commercials with puppies or kittens and who wants to mother the hell out of my co-workers. These are not good traits to have when you work with a bunch of women and you are in charge of making sure things run smoothly on the floor, thus necessitating the need to ‘kind of look like you have your shit together’. As a registered nurse this also extends into the patients rooms and I am in constant danger of violating this as of late due to the ever constant flow of patients and families with horrible life situations or stories. Oddly, these same emotions never seem to extend to intravenous drug users who call me into the room asking to speak with the charge nurse only to then proceed to cuss me out after I told them that we can’t give their pain meds ‘for sleep’.
“These medications are not used for sleep,” I would explain to them. “In fact, if you look at the directions printed under the medication you can see that it specifically states, DO NOT ADMINISTER IF SEDATED!”
What I don’t tell them is just how much we want to keep them sedated and how strong all of our desire is to titrate their medications to unconsciousness, but this would likely require the use of narcotic reversal agents or future codes and I have an even smaller desire to fill out extra paperwork, but I digress…manginas. Like I was saying, puppies and kittens make me weep and apparently, as of approximately forty-five minutes ago, so does Katie Couric.
First of all…
YES, I WAS WATCHING THE KATIE COURIC SHOW!
NO, THAT DOES NOT MAKE ME A WOMAN!
YES, I AM AWESOME!
The show today was featuring Aimee Coupland, who if you remember back to the major news stories a while back, suffered from a rare and life threatening form of flesh eating bacteria that took her limbs from her. The show summarized all the events leading up to her encounter with this dangerous bacteria and I was left thankfully unscathed as they discussed things that in no way shape or form make me cry (i.e. flesh eating bacterias, the severing of limbs). It was only after she found herself waking up from the hospital that I began to hear the rest of her life story and balled harder than Oprah during a book club reading, car give away, and Obama’s inauguration combined. Folks, that was a lot of crying and I was in danger of dehydration, so I dragged myself downstairs, grabbed a glass of water, and crawled my way back up to bed where I proceeded to continue with the show and several local town fundraisers for her support, sister testimonials, and personal testimonials later, found myself crouched under the sheets in the fetal position sucking my thumb. This proceeded for several minutes more until the striking and horrible realization that yes, at this moment you have a mangina and no, I don’t think watching Batman Dark Knight Rises will fix it this time hit me like a ton of bricks and I showered up and headed over to this computer to write this blog and tell you guys all about it.
FYI, I do hope to be watching The Dark Knight Rises in the next couple days and hopefully will be returning to my normal self soon, so tomorrow expect more posts about ninjas, genetic engineering, and annoying hospital encounters in the near future.
In the meantime…
Here is the link to the Katie Couric show and Aimee Coupland @