My Anti-government Rant for Uganda

The Ugandan government has been run for a ridiculous amount of years now by what I am coming to see as a very corrupt man. One of his first actions after taking office I am told was to abolish the law that restricted how long he could be president. He then proceeded to rig all formal elections from that point forward. Opposition members suddenly disappear SS style when they start to gain popularity with the people. Voters registered under different parties are told that they do not appear on the list when they turn up at the polls and are turned away from exercising their right to vote. Even ones who do get through, their votes are mysteriously "lost" and never make it to the official ballot count. The last election was very obviously rigged, and that's all I'll say on that count.
Maybe I've been an American too long, but this severely grates at my sense of right and wrong and my ingrained penchant for freedom and the values that entails.
The most frustrating thing to me recently is the idiotic way that the people were treated regarding a peaceful protest against rising fuel prices in which there was a "walk to work" campaign started. Granted the man behind the major support for this was a leader for the opposition party, which severely compromised the effectiveness of this peaceful protest. Or I should say would have been peaceful had not the government decided to treat it as a riot and began arresting anybody walking and shooting tear-gas into crowds!
Now to fully understand this plight you must realize that in downtown Kampala you can't go anywhere where there aren't people walking. They walk everywhere to and from work or pleasure. And even if you aren't planning on walking for the majority of your trip somewhere, you still have to walk to the bus stop to get on public transportation. The majority of inhabitants of Uganda live at or below the poverty line, and even the ones that are well off, cannot afford a car! Or if they can, it is simply not cost effective to spend that much on petrol to get them from point A to point B when its much cheaper to split it between the 15-24 people crammed in a public transportation van. That much being said it is literally impossible to differentiate which people are actually walking to work, and which ones have always walked to work, and which ones are walking from work to the taxi station... or what have you!
Its the most ridiculous reasoning of insanity ever! And now, with so many innocent lives also being affected by a silly political rivalry, almost the entire country of Uganda... (meaning all the little people, who's voices apparently don't count) are now against the president. This leaves me with a lot of worries about how this eventually will come to a head. The president will continue rigging elections and running sketchy missions to off his competition and will stay in office until he dies at this rate. The only thing that will probably change that is a revolt, and I really fear for bloodshed in my beloved country should that happen. There is no such thing as a peaceful take-over in a country so firmly established with a violent past both with tribes against one another and with the country against its leaders. How many innocent lives will be lost over this one man's greed for power in this country, and obvious lack of concern for the lives of the people he is entrusted with guarding as a leader?
Please pray for Uganda.

Nurse's Day

Today is nurse's day. Actually today kicks off nurse's week. Which I know all of you are jealous that you don't have a day or week specifically designated to your profession, but get over it! Nurse's are just plain awesome! (or most of them anyway)
There's this amazing group of people that really care about caring for people, that strive for daily excellence in their work, and that, simply put, give a piece of their hearts every day when they show up for their jobs. Nurse's get the worst brunt work. They have obnoxious shift hours, and don't get paid nearly enough for how often they work short. They have to deal with other people's snot, pee, poop, phlegm, blood, and b.o. on a daily basis. They have to be professional when everyone around them is freaking out or collapsing or falling to tears. They hold the hands of people while they take their last breath, and are there to catch them when they take their first. They can be the difference between pain and comfort, between calm and distress, between life and death even at times. They can be the bearer of bad news, the angel of comfort, the stern taskmaster, or the timely counselor. Its only natural that people feel like they are part of their families at times, because these amazing women and men invest their heart in their work.
I can't think of anything really in this world that I would rather be. I am totally humbled to be counted as part of their ranks! Now granted, I really appreciate using big words, love knowing exactly what to do in specific circumstances, and adore helping people. I think its highly ironic that my birthday falls in the middle of nurse's week as if I were destined for it!

For Kala

I know from time to time I used to write about how obnoxious my dog was. Well, I sadly have to inform my readers that Kala Ssirika passed away at the end of March.
I originally picked her up at the shelter. I know this is where I am supposed to tell about how my blue eyes met her sad brown ones and we knew it was love at first site. In all honesty, that is just not the way it happened. The first time I saw Kala she was a pound puppy peeing in a cage while her brothers jumped up on top of her, playing around. I didn't even look at her at first.
I wanted a male dog. I'm not really sure why, I guess I just thought that females were smarter and therefore more conniving as pets. (and yes I am thus severe on my own sex) She was short-haired and black. Nothing much to look at. Her brothers were pretty and long-haired, with beautiful grey coloring. I honestly didn't know what a Weimaraner was, or how to go about spelling it for that matter.
All I really wanted was a nice, calm, bigger dog to come lay at my feet and keep me company when I was studying, to make me go on long walks, and to play with as stress relief during long days of RN school.
I had NO IDEA what I was getting myself into...

According to Wikipedia (which we all know is the source of all knowledge!):
"From adolescence, a Weimaraner requires extensive exercise in keeping with an energetic hunting dog breed prized for their physical endurance and stamina. No walk is too far, and they will appreciate games and play in addition. An active owner is more likely to provide the vigorous exercising, games, or running that this breed absolutely requires. Weimaraners are high-strung and often wear out their owners, requiring appropriate training to learn how to calm them and to help them learn to control their behavior. Owners need patience and consistent, firm yet kind training, as this breed is particularly rambunctious during the first year and a half of its life. This breed is known for having a penchant for stealing food from table and counter tops whenever given the chance. Like many breeds, untrained and unconfined young dogs often create their own fun when left alone, such as chewing house quarters and furniture. Thus, many that are abandoned have behavioural issues as a result of isolation and inferior exercise.
This breed of dog tends to be very stubborn. However, with good training, these instincts can be curtailed to some degree. A properly trained Weimaraner is a companion that will never leave its master's side. The Weimaraner has been given the nickname "Velcro Dog", as when once acclimated to its owner, sticks to its owner at all times. Many Weimaraners tend to lean on their owner when sitting or standing, and most will insist on sleeping on their owner's bed unless trained otherwise."

So apparently I forgot to research the breed of dog I was getting before I brought her home. All I knew is that she was very friendly. And she was shorthaired, which would mean less cleaning and brushing for me. I have long since decided that adopting a puppy when in nursing school was perhaps one of my stupidest decisions of all time.
And thus comes the really embarrassing part of my story:
We thought, when we left the pound that she was a boy. Now granted, I do know a thing or two about human anatomy, but when it comes to animals, I would say I am not nearly as confident. In my defense however, cryptorchidism is common in Weimaraners, so my initial conjecture was not completely erroneous... And in the matter of how male and female dogs urinate, I can only say that I took care of a male dog that squatted, so I did not look at that as a clear indication either. I named "him" Demetrius, after this really awesome guy in the New Testament. I was petting "his" belly one day and noticed that something didn't quite match up. Then one day I was rather rudely rocked off my pretty little fantasy world by one of my lovely friends who rather quickly ascertained that "Demetrius" was not in fact a boy. Despite my rather red face at that point in time, it was obvious that I would need to rename the unfortunate young puppy.
So after an extensive afternoon of name shopping (my best friend wanted me to name her Guinevere!) she was dubbed Kala (meaning black in Hindi, because she was most definitely black) Ssirika (which means silky in Luganda).
After almost 2 years of having that huge responsibility of coming home and taking care of her every day, taking her on walks, being limited in my activities because I needed to get home to her its so weird. I come home and there is no whimpering for me, or that scurry of feet on her kennel floor wanting to greet me. I think that's what I miss the most. Its too quiet in my house. I miss that warm little bundle laying on top of my feet (she always had to be touching me if she was sleeping near me) making me feel like an oven. The first few nights I woke up in the middle of the night, and wondered where she had gone because she wasn't sleeping on my feet or on the little rug next to my bed where she stayed when I kicked her out of bed for being too warm.
I miss the fact that she was always there, and having her just come and lay her head on my leg when she knew I was feeling down. And I strangely miss her whining that she needed to go out or wanted me to fill her bowls again; I guess I miss being needed.
I dreamed about her the other night. She was a puppy again and she was adorable and playful and followed me around like a shadow. Strange how a little puppy from the pound can get so tangled up in your heart strings. I always swore that I wouldn't cry when she died, or when I gave her away, or had to put her down. I wasn't going to be that person. But I severely over-estimated the hardness of my heart. She frustrated me to no end sometimes, but she always came back and snuggled with me if I would let her, and wanted to say that she was sorry, and please forgive me mommy! I could always bury my head in her shoulder when I needed a hug and she would stay perfectly still (which was a really big deal for her!). I remember the one time that I hurt my ankle playing in the snow (being pulled on an old car hood behind a truck in a field, yeah, totally safe, i know). She came and stood over the top of me when she realized that I wasn't getting up, like she was going to protect me.
I love that I taught her the stupidest commands like "chill" and "walk nicely" and "go to your room". She actually responded to them, which is funny. I think sometimes that she fit me very nicely, since she was obviously as crazy as me. Well, scratch that, she was actually crazier, but she could keep up with my quirkiness.
I was right about one thing though. I should have gotten a boy dog, because she was too smart for her own good. She new perfectly well how to untangle herself once she wrapped her lead wire around the tree in our front yard, but she would refuse to do it until I came out in response to her barking and told her to. If she wanted to do something she knew she wasn't supposed to, she would wait until I had my back to her or was in the other room. And when she got caught she would hang her head in shame.
She loved peanut butter. And she liked those rawhide bones. She would chew through them in nothing flat. Her and Sage used to fight over them, and steal them from each other all the time. I finally got her a couple of nylon bones, thinking they would be harder for her to chew through. I came home and it was nowhere to be seen. I think she swallowed it whole, because you aren't supposed to be able to chew them in 8 hours. She was just crazy like that! She completely shredded a wedding invitation, a couple cell phone bills, 3 homework assignments (no, REALLY teacher, my dog really ate it!), the zippers to a pair of boots, my favorite pair of Ugandan earrings (wooden rhinos, and they were awesome!), and was endlessly stealing my ponytail holders to chew on! She loved table scraps and would eat pretty much anything I would give her. Except she refused to drink the water in her bowl if it was less than clear. Which was silly, she would drink out of lakes or puddles or the toilet if I would let her, but if she was sloppy and dropped a piece of food in her water dish she would refuse to drink until I dumped that out and got her fresh water. She loved those Pup-eroni slim-jim type sticks. She would do just about anything for one of those!
She would lay spread eagle on the floor in the kitchen in the summer after coming in from outside to absorb the coolness of the linoleum floor to counteract her black coat. She could stand in one spot and jump a good 5 feet straight up in the air; she looked like a kangaroo and it made me laugh every time. She loved kids, and was always eager to play with other animals. She couldn't smell worth a lick though. I let her outside once and there was a huge buck in our front yard about 15 feet from us in the dusk. She never even noticed it.
Her last day I didn't even spend that much time with her. I had been gone in Topeka all day and got home; my best friend was letting her out when she collapsed in front of my front stoop and just started seizing. By the time the seizure was over, she had no function or painful stimulus response in her hind legs and little in her shoulders. Her pupil responses were sluggish and barely there. She had obvious brain damage. We got her cleaned up, and she seemed to be responding a little better for a while, but just ridiculously tired from the seizure. Then she started seizing every 2 minutes and I had to make the decision.
Her eyes nearly broke my heart. They looked so scared and confused as if she was pleading with me to do something and make it stop. But there was nothing I could do. She died that night. It was the most merciful thing really.
I think she really taught me a lot though. She definitely worked on my patience. I think sometimes I would see strange little things in her, and it reminds me of how God must feel when He looks at me sometimes. I know that sometimes I try and get away with things when He isn't looking. And I sit there throwing a fit about the mess I've gotten myself into and God just looks at me and is like, "My dear stupid child! You know very well how you got yourself into that situation, and you know how to get yourself out. Why are you fussing?" And I know that he must delight in seeing me jump like a kangaroo when I discover another truth or blessing He has lavished me with. In times when I think about that, I can't help but smile back and realize that God brings many different characters into our lives that we learn from and lean on for a time, and sometimes those characters have 4 paws and brown eyes. I am thankful for that in God's crazy plan for my life, he took one of my stupidest mistakes and turned it into another beautiful patch in the crazy quilt of my life.

Change

I am a thunderstorm
I am the chilly expectation on the winds
I am the deep grey, brilliant geen, and glowing orange which betrays its feirceness
I am the passionate drilling forces of giant raindrops
And the sweet caress of falling showers
I am warm and carefree like a summer storm
Then icy as winter sleet
Dangerous at times its true
Sought after a long drought and refreshing to dry soil
I am fury or comfort
I am hazardous or appealing
I am the ever changing face of the sky.

Small Town Pride!

give it up for some small town pride! yep, that's where i come from!

The Sea Lion Who Lost the Sea

"Once upon a time there lived a sea lion who had lost the sea.
He lived in a country known as the barren lands. High on a plateau, far from any coast, it was a place so dry and dusty that it could only be called a desert. A kind of coarse grass grew in patches here and there, and a few trees were scattered across the horizon. But mostly it was dust. And sometimes wind, which together make one very thirsty. Of course, it must seem strange to you that such a beautiful creature should wind up in a desert at all. He was, mind you, a sea lion. But things like this do happen.
How the sea lion came to the barren lands no one could remember. It all seemed so very long ago. So long, in fact, it appeared that he had always been there. Not that he belonged in such a place. How could that be? He was, after all, a sea lion. But as you know, once you have lived so long in a certain spot, no matter how odd, you come to think of it as home.
There was a time, many years back, when the sea lion knew he was lost. In those days, he would stop every traveler he met to see if they might help him find his way back to the sea.
But no one seemed to know the way.
On he searched, but never finding. After years without success, the sea lion took refuge beneath a solitary tree beside a very small watering hole. The tree provided refuge from the burning rays of sun, which was fierce in that place. And the watering hole, though small and muddy, was wet, in its own way. Here he settled down and got on as best he could.
Had you journeyed in those days through the barren lands, you might have seen the sea lion yourself. Quite often in the evening, he would go and sit upon his favorite rock, a very large boulder, which lifted him off the burning sand and allowed him a view of the entire country.
There he would remain for hours in the night, silhouetted against the sky. And on the best nights, when the wind shifted to the east, a faint smell of salt air would come to him on the breeze. Then he would close his eyes and imagine himself once more at the sea. When he lay himself down to sleep, he would dream of a vast, deep ocean. Twisting and turning, diving and twirling, he would swim and swim and swim. When he woke, he thought he heard the sound of breakers.
The sea was calling to him.

The sea lion loved his rock, and he even loved waiting night after night for the sea breezes that might come. Especially he loved the dreams those memories would stir. But as you well know, even the best of dreams cannot go on, and in the morning when the sea lion woke, he was still in the barren lands. Sometimes he would close his eyes and try to fall back asleep. It never seemed to work, for the sun was always very bright.
Eventually it became too much for him to bear. He began to visit his rock only on occasion. "I have too much to do," he told himself. "I cannot waste my time just idling about." He really did not have much to do. The truth of it was, waking so far from home was such a disappointment, he did not want to have those wonderful dreams anymore. So the day finally came when he stopped going to his rock altogether, and he no longer lifter his nose to the wind when the seas breezes blew."

~ from John Eldridge's book Journey of Desire

I wept bitterly when I read this story and my heart cried in anguish at the pure truth of it.

Are You Kidding Me??

Warning: *your LDL/HDL levels might go up from just reading this!!

I was first introduced to this concept quite shockingly by a friend who seemed to find absolutely nothing wrong with eating this concoction. My fellow nurse and best friend and I were equally appalled by her explanation that it is in fact EXACTLY what its name implies!!
I predict a large influx in the bypass surgery department in the next 30 years! I may consider changing my specialty to cardiac nursing.