Universal Language

When I was a young girl, my dad became very involved with the Mexican population of our church, and many of them started to come to our house. Unfortunately, my dad was the only one who spoke Spanish at that point, so communication became a little bit of an issue. We learned a few words, but not enough to have a real conversation.

That was about the time that my mom found the perfect solution. We started having game night, and the game we played was Jenga. Jenga doesn’t require a specific language. Instead, it uses cheers, groans and all other noises aside from talking. Even if we’re teasing each other, we could usually figure out what they were trying to say just by the tone of voice.

And of course, you can’t play Jenga without eating ice cream.

It’s a universal language: Jenga and ice cream. We spent several months building strong friendships based off of those two things. Even though most of them moved back home, we still talk about them, and on the rare occasions they come up to my hometown, they always stop by to say hi.

Language doesn’t have to be a barrier. There’s always something that can be done to form friendships and relationships even if they can’t understand one another. 

Patients That Changed My Life: Dorothy

As a nurse, I have the chance to meet a lot of people from all walks of life. Some are fun, some are not so fun. Then there are those that change my life, and changed the kind of nurse I am. For privacy purposes, I won’t use real names, but I want to tell you their stories. To read about previous patients, click here.

Several years ago, I worked at an Assisted Living. Those facilities are usually for people who can take care of most of their needs, but need help with a few essentials, such as cooking or taking medications. Because they’re supposed to be fairly self-efficient, there’s a lot less staff then there are at a skilled nursing facility or hospital.

I had one patient, Dorothy, who was a very sweet lady that loved to walk around. She would take her walker, and her little dog, and they would just cruise around the nursing home all day. She would visit other residents, go outside and sit in the sun, or gather in the front room. When I first started working there, she pulled me aside with one very special request.

She wanted someone to cut her toenails. It’s something so small that it would only take a few minutes, yet no one seemed to have the time to help her. Most CNAs can’t cut toenails because of the risk for infection, especially in diabetic patients, but nurses can. I went into her room before I went home, and I cut her nails. It was such a simple act that I didn’t even think anything of it. But for her, it made her day. Actually, it made her week. She was so grateful, she came and found me every day to thank me.

We don’t need to do something big to make a difference in our patients’ lives. Something as simple as brushing their hair, shaving their face, or cutting their toenails can transform their day.

How Criminal Minds Improved My Writing

A few months ago, I noticed that a lot of my patients were all watching the same show. I only saw bits and pieces, and I didn’t really know what it was, but it looked interesting. Recently, my interests have kind of shifted from sitcom type shows to more criminal investigative shows.

Turns out the show was called Criminal Minds, and I found it on Netflix and started watching. I really love it, and I absorbed more than I thought I did. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the show, it’s about a group within the FBI that investigates serial killers, rapists and kidnappers by analyzing their behavior to determine what kind of person would commit that crime and why.

Several weeks ago, while revising Hooked, I was struggling with one of my main villains. To me, it seemed like he kept switching his personality, depending on who he was with, but it seemed within his character. Finally, I had that lightbulb moment.

My villain had the God-complex. And the only reason I knew that was because of Criminal Minds. I started to profile my villain, his background, and the reasons behind what he does and it started to make so much sense. Suddenly, I could write him without even questioning his motives, because not only did I understand the why behind it, but I also understood the psychological part, the stuff that even he didn’t know.

From now on out, I’m going to profile every one of my characters. It’s a fantastic way to determine what really makes them tick, and to put together their background, their family life, and their environment to put together a whole person, not just a villain. Someone who has a desire for something, or a need to be fulfilled.

I love it when random things in my life connect like that.

English to Spanish

When I first moved to Madrid, I didn’t really know Spanish. I thought I knew Spanish, but I really didn’t. And even when I did know the language, I still didn’t always use the right words. I’ve seen hubby go through the same exact thing as he’s learned English. Making mistakes are part of learning. And learning to laugh makes it easier to keep from getting frustrated. Here’s a few of our innocent, yet fun mistakes:

English -> Spanish

1.       I was leading a class at church, and I told them that “I want to bless you.” One of the boys in our class stared at me and asked if I was allowed to do that. I meant to say “I want to welcome you.”

2.       On a picnic with a bunch of friends, one of the girls asked if I had ‘vasos’ (cups) and I handed her ‘pasas’ (prunes)

3.       When I was teaching children a song for church, there was a phrase: Cayen los grillos. I knew grillos to be a cricket, so I taught them that it was about falling crickets. Turns out grillos can also be shackles, which makes a lot more sense to the song.

4.       I also taught the children that the foolish man from the Bible built his house on oatmeal instead of sand.

Spanish -> English

1.       We were talking to a friend who was going home after an extended time away, and he said that he was excited to go, but sad to leave. Hubby placed a hand on his shoulder and said “it’s sour cream, isn’t it.” He meant to say bittersweet.

2.       Whenever someone does something impressive, hubby’s first response is “Excuse you!” it’s a phrase they use in Spanish, to show that you’re impressed. Now, it’s kind of our family’s catch phrase whenever we want to congratulate someone.

When we were teaching Sunday School to a bunch of four year olds, hubby was supposed to give directions, and since he has a thick Spanish accent, he tends to put an ‘e’ in front of words that start with ‘s.’ He was trying to get one little boy to go forward, and started yelling “Go e-straight, go e-straight!” and of course, the poor kids, who didn’t understand his accent, yelled “go e-straight” right along with him.

How about the rest of you? Any fun stories about learning another language and making mistakes along the way?

Baymax: A True Representation of a Healthcare Worker

I think that Big Hero 6 is an underrated movie. There’s a lot of great stuff that went into it, and I think it got ignored, just because of how big Frozen was at that time.

While watching the commercials, I was almost positive I was going to hate Baymax. He was big, slow, and the parts that they had of him made me think he would be there as comic relief, but I didn’t think that I would like the kind of comedy he would provide.

After watching the movie, I have one thing to say. Baymax is the greatest representation of a healthcare worker. Tadashi made him to be a personal healthcare provider. He must have done his research, because he created exactly the kind of person most facilities want.

Baymax’s first question, whenever someone is in pain is: what’s your pain level on a scale of 1-10?

You have no idea how often I ask this question. One facility I worked in, we were required to ask every one of our patients that question every four hours. It was in our medication record, and we had to record their pain level every 4 hours. On a normal shift, I probably ask that question probably thirty to forty times. And if I’m not asking, I’m assessing for signs and symptoms of pain.

Grimacing, guarding, acting withdrawn, moaning, groaning… I’m programmed to notice anything that could indicate pain. When I have patients with Alzheimer’s, or who had stroke and can’t communicate, I keep an eye for any nonverbal signs so that I can control their pain.

In nursing school, we learn that pain is the 6^th vital sign. It’s so important that we should be assessing it whenever we walk into a patient’s room.

So hats off to Tadashi, for understanding how important pain is, and how often it needs to be assessed. 

Camp NaNoWriMo Failure

It’s been a good summer. And a busy summer. I wasn’t expecting any changes or surprises, but that’s always when something happens, right?

The hardest part is writing when life seems to be going at a crazy pace. Last month, my goal was to edit 80,000 words of Hooked, book 2 in the series I wrote during November. During that time, I thought that my schedule would be wide open.

Unfortunately, life threw a few curveballs at me. Right after setting my goal, I ended up switching jobs, which meant extra hours of work, trying to finish my previous job and start orientation for the new one. Then my husband had a surprise interview across the state, and my mom threw in a surprise trip for the family. So all of the sudden, my extra time didn’t exist anymore.

I didn’t reach my goal. But that’s okay. Sometimes, we have to let life happen. That’s not to say I didn’t try hard. The last two weeks of July, we ended up driving for almost 75 hours. That’s like a full time job right there, just in the car. I spent as much time as I could writing, though let me say, there’s a lot of bumpy roads out there!

Just a few of the places we visited

There were some days that I didn’t write at all, but I didn’t let that discourage me. Because that’s going to happen. Some days are busy, and other days I have nothing to do and writing takes a priority.

It’s hard to find time for everything, but sometimes, it’s nice to sit back and let life happen for a while. The past two weeks have been crazy, but at the same time, I saw so many things that I got even more ideas for future stories

So I guess, in a sense, I never really stopped writing.

Checkpoint Equality

I don’t think I really started paying attention to racial profiling until I met my husband. Maybe because I’m the kind of Asian that doesn’t stand out. Or maybe because I’m so used to being treated a certain way that I don’t even stop to think about it.

Right after we got married, hubby and I moved to a big city with a lot of different kinds of people. I grew up in a town where most everyone looked the same. Once I moved there, I really learned that not everyone is treated the same.

Hubby got pulled over a lot. Not for speeding, but just for acting suspiciously. Or just randomly. In the half mile between our apartment complex and my work, they would randomly have check points on major holidays and over weekends, just to check and make sure people weren’t driving while drunk or high. There was one night that hubby had to pick me up, and he was randomly stopped on the way to pick me up, and then again randomly stopped on the way back home once he had me. Fortunately, he hasn’t ever done anything illegal, so he’s let off without an issue.

But it does beg the question. People hear his accent and they see his skin color and they’re put on guard. Even when in his own neighborhood, he’s treated with more scrutiny than most everyone else. Even me.

He's not the only one.

Several years ago, I got stranded in the Newark airport. There had been a bad blizzard, and all flights had been canceled for 24 hours. Since I spent most of the two days in line, I got to know the few people who were trying to make the same flight as me. One was a very sweet woman from Scotland, and we ended up spending the day together. Ironically, every single time we went through a check point, she was randomly selected to be searched. Three times it happened, while I was never chosen. She had become very flustered by the end, feeling like she’d been singled out for a reason.

I never noticed it before, because I don’t think it happens as much to me. But when I’m with others, I realize that equality is still a dream, and we’ve still got a ways to go.