Feet First, First Time, Y'all!

So my dad, he's a nurse.  Actually, both my parents are nurses, which means when my brothers and I grew up, we were pretty much screwed out of faking being sick.  Mom and Dad, you see, they were in the know.  You feel sick but no temperature?  You go to school!  You don't feel good?  Tough cookie!  Get your butt out of bed and go to school!  What?!?  Your brother cut your arm off and you need to go to the emergency room?  I see the ketchup bottle, Kelly, now get ready for school!

My parents' nursing careers are extremely different.  My mom took the more administrative route of things and among many other accomplishments, was the Director of Nurses for a very prestigious retirement facility in our city.  She brought home the bacon and cooked it too, y'all.

But so did my dad.  In a quieter way.  You see, my dad is a rehabilitation nurse.  No, not like on Celebrity Rehab where people are like, "Oh, I need one more fix o' that smack yo'!"  Nope.  My dad deals with the spinal chord injuries, the people who have suffered strokes, had hip replacements, been in terrible motorcycle/car accidents, or even tried to take their own lives unsuccessfully.  My dad has seen some terrible stuff and I am only just now realizing that he has the patience of Job.

He doesn't talk about work.  He never has.  He doesn't reveal details about his patients, that's just not how he rolls.  The only information that I have ever received from my dad about his work are more cautionary tales of what not to do, so you don't end up a quadriplegic being taken care of by my dad.  While my dad is probably one of the best nurses I know, I would NEVER want to be one of his patients.  I imagine him saying to someone, "You can't move your body?  Tough cookie!  Now brush your teeth and get dressed."  He really isn't that way, I promise.  But in rehab, you have to be tough with your patients.  It's a frustrating situation to be in, losing control of your body.  You can lose faith, and you need someone tough to help drive you along and push you.  My dad, he's a good pusher.

I was having a chat with him on the phone the other night while he was ironing his uniforms for work and he sounded a bit worn down.  Like his day had really gotten the better of him, which is rare since he seems to be able to leave most stuff at the hospital. When I asked him how work was, he sighed, saying how they were a little short handed that day, therefore his one - to - one care rule at the hospital involved him assisting a patient with short term memory loss for the majority of the day.

Short term memory loss.  That's a biggie.  It's more than just when you meet someone and you immediately forget their name.  Nope.  Much larger.  I believe this particular patient was confused and thought someone had been taking their belongings.  I think his day was spent repeating, "No, your things are right here."

Patience of Job.

So, I have to cut my dad a lot of slack for when we were growing up.  I used to think him impatient at times, when in fact, he is probably one of the most patient people I know.  He just happens to have a job where he has to use his patience at all times, every single minute he is at work.  Thank goodness he still had some left over for us when he got home at the end of the day.

As I was getting off the phone, I asked if he was going to be taking care of that patient the next day.  He said he wasn't sure but that probably at some point he would be handling that patient's care.  I told him that the next time the patient was confused about where their personal belongings were, he should tell that person that the Unicorn Police were holding it safely for them until thy got better.

He got REAAAAAAAALLLY upset at that suggestion.  Too much?  My poor Daddy.  Could you imagine what firestorm that would have brought him if someone had said that to a patient with short term memory loss?  (I really have a messed up sense of humor, y'all! Good thing my dad is a moral, ethical and upstanding nurse!)

So, for Father's Day weekend,  I thought I would share my dad's top 3 rules for having fun in the sun/water.  They have kept us safe and alive for this long, so I think he kinda knows what he's talkin' about.


Super Nurse Ken's Top 3 Rules for Sunshine Fun!

1. Drink your water.  Lots and lots of water.  Seriously.  He wrote songs at camp about the importance of drinking water.  You should ask him to sing you one of these songs as they are quite cheeky.  Do it. - drink your water (and ask him to sing to you!)  Dehydration is seriously nasty, nasty.

2. Sunscreen it up, baby!  You don't want your little bambinos or yourself looking like a bunch of "Rock Lobsters!"  Plus, skin cancer is so 1999.

3. FEET FIRST, FIRST TIME: This is a biggie.  No, really.  This is huge.  Any time you guys go to the pool, the lake, the ocean, off a cliff, or anywhere that you are jumping into a body of water where you do not know how deep it is:  FEET FIRST.  Period.  Don't go trying to impress the ladies with your swan dive because you will be receiving your nutrition through a tube in your stomach if you try that.  Trust me, it's happened before and it will happen again.

*4. No Motorcycles.  Ever.  Period.  I repeat.  ABSOLUTELY NO  M-O-T-O-R-C-Y-C-L-E-S! PERIOD. EVER. NO!


*5. No Convertibles/Jeeps/Open topped moving thing of any kind.  Again, If I ever catch you in one of those death traps, I'm going to snatch you bald headed so fast, you won't know what hit....

*#4 and #5 rules are completely up to you guys.  He just instilled a fear of God in me so huge about those modes of transportation that the idea of riding on a motorcycle is like betraying 'The Godfather".  I'd end up with a horse's head in my bed or something.

So, give your dad's an extra tight squeeze this weekend and turn Father's Day into Father's Weekend Fun in the Sun!  Just make sure you drink your water, wear your sunscreen, and FEET FIRST, FIRST TIME!

Happy Friday!
xoxo