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supercallousedfragilemysticplaugedbyhalitosis

Ghandi was a great man and walked everywhere he went so the skin on his feet became very cracked and hard, and due to continual hunger strikes was fraile but maintained his amazing almost supernatural gifts of peace and understanding, but again due to his eating habbits his breath was horrible. So Ghandi was a...

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Location: Clawson, Michigan, United States

I am proud to say I am a Mother, a Daughter, a Student, an Employee, a Minister, a Healer, a Poet, a Cynic, an Activist, and many more things that change on a moment-by-moment basis. I live in constant amazement of this adventure we call life, and acknowledges that while the road may be bumpy, the ride is exciting. I graduated from the Registered Nurse program at Alpena Community College in May 2004. In August 2010 I received my BSN and the, ever the glutton for punishment I went back to school and obtained my MBA with a specialization in Healthcare Administration in May 2012. I am contemplating going on for my PhD APRN. If I decide to do that... SHOOT ME! I am a manager for a not for profit hospice agency based in Michigan, but the position allows me to work remotely so I may be traveling a lot over the next few years. I battled and defeated breast cancer and now I am living life to the fullest!

Sunday, December 31, 2006

2006

2 hours into the last day of 2006. I am at work; a new contract, a new hospital. I realize so much has changed in 2006. 365 days ago I never would have imagined I would live apart from my family. I guess DH's brothers and sisters have an issue with this. Like I don't? Could anyone really think I would want to be away from them for so long? It is a means to an end. Pay off some bills. Make some decisions. Money makes those decisions easier sometimes. I am providing for my boyz; insurance, money, security. I am doing my duty. Does it suck? YES! Is it necessary? For now. Money doesn't buy the important things.

I have made some dear friends down here south of the 45th parallel. They have made living here bearable. I am not sure what I would do without their loving support. I miss my dear friend Catherine from the VA. I wish I could have stuck her in my bag and taken her with me to my new assignment. From the sounds of it, she wouldn't mind moving on. Jeffrey can always help me find my smile when I misplace it, and he and his kids have been great fun this past week when Edward was down with me. I have a husband, a fiance, a boyfriend and a cabana boy (where is Bradley anyhow?) what is Jeffrey going to be? New relationships at work are blooming, if I can every figure out what they are saying. All of these people are completely disconnected from my life in Alpena.

I have noticed that I am no longer calling Alpena "home." It doesn't feel like home anymore. I feel like I am visiting when I go there. I am, aren't I? I don't feel like I have a home. Alpena is someplace I visit, my apartment in Clawson is someplace to rest my head, my home from my youth is so changed by my brother and sister-in-law's decorating it doesn't seem to fit either. A girl without a country, a woman without a home. Home is where the heart is? Home is where you hang your hat? My heart is in my chest, and I don't wear hats. SGW sings "Everybody needs a homeland / just a place where you can hang your hat / a place to raise your children / everybody needs homeland... My grandfather told me / a long time ago / that a man without ground / is like a man with no soul... The place that I live / I'm just borrowing for now / someday I'll have me an address / and I'll make it somehow." I feel like a man with no soul.

I have 2 distinctly separate lives. North of the 45th I am a wife, a mom, a daughter, a friend. I am the responsible one that thinks of others before herself, does what needs to be done without complaining (much) and makes all the plans and lives in cluttered chaos. South of the 45th I am a single woman who dreams of her life back home, who is a bit wilder than she would ever allow in Alpena (half naked cooking?), who is accountable to herself and her employer only, and who always makes her bed and has been known to vacuum twice a day just to have something to do. When DH and son come down, I get all flustered. They mess with my space. I love having them here and spending time with them, but they leave their shoes all over and stuff is everywhere.

Is it worth it? The money is good (great!) and the benefits cover what we need covered. Do I chuck it all (after June 1st when my lease is up) and go back north of the 45th, work in a job that pays the bills (not as well, but we have managed to this point) but that I hate, that offers me no chance of growth and career development but allows me to be with my boyz? Money ISN'T everything. Do I pack them up and move them here? Is that fair to Edward? To Paul? Paul's game to move, Edward not so much, but he'd roll with it. My Dad? Yikes, don't want to go there now. Can they fit into my life south of the 45th? That scared me most. I am a different person here, can I blend those two lives?

I've never lived alone. I've never had this kind of independence, and I kinda like it. Sure, I get lonely. Very lonely. My new found friends have lives of their own. They can't hang on the couch and watch movies with me, can't come over and play games on a Wednesday evening, can't drop everything like I can just to keep me amused. I have nothing to do in the long hours between work and work. If I were with my boyz, I would have that filled. I need that. But I also would miss the unusual freedom I have here. The relationships I have formed here would change. I don't want them to. I want my cake and eat it too. Come on Rebecca, let's get that communal living thing off the ground. I need that! I want it all!

Well, this is a bummer of a post. I didn't intent it to be. I intended to make this a overview of 2006 (year in review) but it all has been about the last 4 and a half months. I can't even remember what else happened in 2006. 2005 gave me Katrina/Louisiana. I hold that close in my heart, but the first 8 months of 2006 are nonexistent in my heart right now. Strange. Help me remember those months. Something had to happen there other than severe job dissatisfaction at RCRH which prompted this move and all this angst. Rebecca and Steve hooked up, Paul got a job. All these things seem like information I got in a holiday card. They are not a part of my life. Paul has a job, new people in his life, and I know virtually nothing about it/them. And he likewise. 12 years ago when we said "I do" this is not where I thought we would be. But is it ok?

Saturday, December 09, 2006

Louisiana E-mails

I realized there was no place on the net where my e-mails from Louisiana were posted anymore. I refer to them often, but there is no place to reference them to, so here they are. Seems like an eternity ago that these events took place. Seems like a different person that was there. It WAS a different person that was there; no one could have experienced that and not changed on some level.

Excuse the typos, the sappiness, the informality of the writing (they were simple e-mail correspondence home to my boyz) and the other randomness of these posts. Skip them if you want. I put them here for me more than anything else. I don't want to loose this time. I don't want to misplace these memories.

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10/01/2005

Good Morning Darling,
Please pass this e-mail along to anyone who is interested, but please include a copy to Cindy Myers so she can take a copy up to work. I think hers is the only employee at RCRH who I have in the address book. Also, please let people know they can e-mail me at http://myrealbox.com/w?OR.EU.Z9MGFug.EBREw.CxIN6RQE.J+hadraina@myrealbox.com . I am not sure how often I will be able to check my e-mail, but I was fortunate enough to have access this morning, and I hear that this opportunity does come up on occasion. My time is limited, so please excuse any spelling mistakes, as I will not be able to review this before sending. I am currently at Camp Phoenix in Baton Rouge, LA. Camp Phoenix is located in a school for the visually impaired, so the computer I am typing on is one made accessible for the visually impaired and the font I am typing in is like 120pt. (So now you know why I will not be able to proof read it. It is just one or two words on the screen at a time, but hey, beggars can't be choosers. :-)

It has been a whirlwind last 24 hours. Mike drove me from Alpena to Flint airport, I flew from there to Detroit Metro and then on to New Orleans. The airport there is on limited function, no restaurants open, only one gift show, etc. But it was open, there was air conditioning (Thank God) and I only had to wait for 3 hours for my shuttle to FEMA Tent City in Baton Rouge.

New Orleans was something to see. I started off taking pic, but had to stop. I think it was a shock/awe thing. There was just too much to see. Too much to process. Buildings that look like cut away doll houses, because the sides of them were just gone. Huge trees snapped like match sticks. Water lines on buildings up past entrance doors. I can not imagine the destruction here immediately after the hurricane. They have cleaned up so much. There were piles of wood to be burned, acres of it. They are waiting for the next promise of a storm, will burn before hand and let Mother Nature be kind and keep it in check.

Tent city is amazing. We have showers, laundry, cell phone charging stations, a rec tent complete with big screen TV (Bigger than Denise and Casey's) and AC in the tents. Our tent sleeps around 300 people. I was so exhausted I slept like a rock.

We had Prime Rib for dinner last night and eggs and ham for breakfast. The food has been great, but MRE's are on tap for my permanent assignment center. S'ok, great weight loss plan I hear. Don't make me allow it to sound cushy, it is far from that. But it is much better than I anticipated. Remember however, mom always called me her "lemonade girl." When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. I guess I am kinda like that.

I need to go as they need the computer. Please keep up the prayers and good thoughts. So many here need your love and if you send it my way, I have it to give to them 3 fold. Kiss my Edward and let him know how proud I am that he is taking such good care of you.

Love from LA,
Angela

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10/03/2005

Hello Dear,

02:30 and all is well. I have been assigned as the night team leader here at the Lafayette Special Needs Shelter. It is an amazing place. There is a DMAT* team here from Rhode Island. They are running an ER here in the Heymann Performing Arts Center. All evacuees (not refugees thank you) are triaged through them first, then if they do not have a suitable place to go and no pressing medical needs they are sent to the shelter at the Cajondome where there are 3000+ Rita evacuees currently. If they have a significant medical need, they stay with us. We have a respiratory section where we have oxygen dependent patients and patients who need frequent respiratory treatments, a transition area where people may stay for a day or two just until they are over an acute illness or can find other shelter, and an area for those that are more ill; mostly chronic illnesses, strokes, amputees, and those of advanced age. We have 4 patients with Cerebral Palsy aged 2 - 36. Every age, race, and nationality is here. What a lesson in cultural diversity!

Also an experience has been the food. At Camp Port Allen (aka FEMA Tent City in Baton Rouge)the food was amazing! Prime Rib and lasagna. Great stuff. Here, our food is catered by the local jail. Yummmmm? Today we ate this, um, stuff. It was some kind of mystery meat in a spicy brown gravy. Found out AFTER lunch that it was GIZZARDS. Um, Yum? What an experience.

I did a transfer seminar with the nurses here, most of who are ICU/ Critical Care nurses and their patient's never get out of bed. The DMAT* guys got involved too and learned a lot, and were very appreciative. I sure wish I had wore one of my rings down here though, they all think I am single and wanna "go out after our shift." Well, what can I say, with the over-the-back transfer I learned at RCRH* there is plenty of butt grabbing going on, and well, you get real friendly. :-P

The patient's can take showers in a trailer out behind the Performing Arts Center. It's a really neat area, and kept spotlessly clean by a crew that has that as their sole duty. They are completely scrubbed after each shower. I had one patient that wanted a shower so badly, but could not get up the stairs to get into the shower trailer. They came to me looking for advised on how to get her up the stairs, and I came up with a different solution. I took her into one of the one hole bathrooms here at the Heymann, sat her on the throne, and poored a basin of warm water over her, scrubbed her up from head to toe, including shampoo, and doused her again to remove the soap. Problem solved, and no stairs. Think outside the box folks. This little lady has now become my best friend, and everywhere I go she tells everyone I ran her through the car wash. She has kissed me twice, and I had to promise to let her "buy me lunch one day." Let's see what's on the menu tomorrow. :-)

I feel so honored to be able to share in these folks lives. They are so warm and loving, all of the folks at FEMA*, DMAT*, PHS* and LSS* have been so respectful and supportive to us 16 nurses from across the nation. It has been a great experience. I think I am getting more out of this than the evacuees

.I love you, Darling. Take good care of my Boo Bear. Dad should be home today if he didn't make it back last night. All my fellas give each other a hug for me. I love and miss you all so much, and I am so glad you support me in my craziness and need to fly half way across the country to help others. You accept me for who I am, and know this is what I do, and I appreciate you for allowing me to be here. I LOVE YOU!

Angela
P.S. Please feel free to pass this on to others. It's the only way I can keep in touch.
************ Alphabet Soup Explanation Area ************
DMAT = Disaster Medical Action Team
FEMA = Federal Emergency Management Agency
PHS = Public Health Services
LSS = Louisiana Social Services
RCRH = Rogers City Rehabilitation Hospital (but you knew that)

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10/07/2005

Hi Babe,

I'm gonna dazzle you with my new military jargon, and bore you with details, but I need to get this out, and I want you all to know my story. Gonna be a long one, please continue to pass them on. I so appreciate the responses I have been getting forwarded to me. It gives a big smile to my day to know there is love coming this way from all over the country.

The last 36 hours have shown me just how much a little love can mean. I was sent on a special deployment Tuesday night. We got word of a situation in Rosepine, LA that needed attention, and I was chosen, along with one of my fellow nurses to go with our IC (Incident Commander), Captain (Dr.) Rory Laughery to assess the situation. We left the Lafayette Special Needs Shelter (from now on referred to as the SNS) and went to Camp Phoenix (Command Central) in Baton Rouge at 22:00. We had a 06:15 meeting to attend about the "Rosepine situation." It was hard to leave the SNS, as we had all become very comfortable here with our roles, our co-workers and our patients, but the need in Rosepine seemed great, and our skills could best be used there, so we went.

I had slept, because I was planning on working from 19:00 - 07:00 so I wasn't tired, and once we arrived at Camp Phoenix, found out where we would be billeted (um, military for leaving our stuff and sleeping) I found a washer and dryer that wasn't in use. WooHoo! Taking advantage of the situation, I washed and dried all I had, and nodded off for 40 winks. A security guard came around, told me of a conference room on the 2nd floor of the building I was in and that it had a couch I could crash on. I had decided not to go to my billeting area, because it was 03:00 and everyone in the area was sleeping, and I didn't want to disturb them for a short nap. Never one to look a gift couch in the mouth, I headed up the stairs, and promptly sacked out. 30 minutes later, I heard a noise, and found a big ol' admiral wandering out of this room off the conference room. I had wandered into his personal quarters and sacked out on his couch. Oops!!! He was kind, told me to stay "as you were" but I was now wide awake from embarrassment and slinked off to the mess for some cold coffee and a few minutes with CNN.

The meeting was all of 5 minutes (typical military, make people move around in the middle of the night and sleep in a strange area for 5 minutes of gab. Take a peek at a map of LA, you will see that I left Lafayette, traveled East 1.5 hours for a 5 minute meeting just to travel West, through Lafayette, 3 hours to Rosepine.) On the plus side, our assignment was going to be a challenge and the drive gave us time to talk and plan.

Now, I will describe our assignment, share it with you and all those on our e-mail list, but I ask you all to keep it to yourselves. It is a sad story at times and could be a media nightmare and hurt (and exploit) many. We did a good thing, and I want this story to be known, but I don't want those involved hurt.

There is a nursing home in Lake Charles, LA that had to evacuate all it's residents due to a mandatory evacuation order before Hurricane Rita hit. These 135 nursing home residents were evacuated to an elementary school in Rosepine, LA. Most of their staff quit when the evacuation order came in, as they had to take care of their families and themselves. I am not saying this is was the correct thing to do; when you chose a health care profession, you make a commitment not to abandon those in your care. I know I would not have left my charges high and dry, I would have stayed to care for them, but everyone has to make their own decisions in life, and then live with them. So, regardless of whether they did "the right thing" or not, many quit, and left these residents with inadequate caregivers. Many of the staff that didn't just quit put in their 2 week notice the day the evacuation order came through. The end of this 2 weeks was yesterday at 14:00.

We arrived at the elementary school to find these residents housed in 2 rooms and a gymnasium. They were sleeping on mattresses on the floors. Only 10 were in beds, and that was because they could not be layed flat or had very severe wounds. Patients with MRSA (an antibacterial reisitant bacteria) were in the middle of the room, with no isolation precautions or even standard precautions of gloves and hand washing. The mattresses were so close together, that they needed to be slided apart to get close enough to the resident to perform any care. Changing diapers had to occur with caregivers kneeling at the bedside. There were just not enough people to care for these folks.

Our plan had been to assess the situation individually (there were 5 of us) and then get together in 15 minutes for a planning meeting and get approval from central command to assist at this location. The best laid plans of mice and men...

We were overwhelmed. There was a group of volunteer health care providers from George Washington University that hugged us as we walked in the door, gave a quick rambling report on the most critical patients and were out the door in 30 minutes. Our IC called Central Command, mobilized troops, and we jumped in with both feet.

A bit more about the conditions there. These folks had been here in these conditions for 14 days at this point, and a mobile shower unit had not been moved in until day 13. The staff that was here were doing the best with the resources they had, but only so many hands allows only so much care to occur. The toileting facilities were appalling, and I chose not to describe them, as they may turn a reader off from finishing this email. I may post them to my blog at some point, but I can't even go there now. We had 2 nurses that took it upon themselves to scrub the bathrooms with bleach within the first hour of their arrival, and EVERYONE was thankful for their unselfishness in this absolutely necessary task.

By 16:00 we had amassed a team of 10 firefighter/basic EMT's, 9 nurses, 4 doctors (family practice, cytopathologist, neurosurgeon, and geriatric psychiatrist) 1 dentist, 1 social worker and 1 pharmacist. 26 pairs of hands, and 26 hearts of gold. We all agreed that we needed to get these people OUT OF HERE, and that we could not affect this change until morning. This meant we had to get through the night. Our IC called Command Central, mentioned the words "media disaster" and informed them that if a camera crew showed up there, it would be all over the news. That was all that needed to be said, and we were promised 2 buses and 22 ambulances by 09:00. Now to get through the night.

We all took turns, working until we were falling over. I got a little nap, but awoke to a 2 inch long "Palmeto Bug" (read cockroach) crawling up my arm. Sleeping in 2 hours shift, we all were on butt wiping duty. Firefighters that had never wiped any butt other than their own were on their knees getting it done. The doctors and pharmacist, social workers and nurses were all side by side, not looking at rank, title or degree and caring for these residents. There was no ego here, this was all about love. We gave every ounce of love we had to these folks on the floor, to the staff that stuck it out and to each other. The respect in the room for our fellow human beings was palpable. No one was any better than the other. Scratch that, the residents were the top dog, the main focus, and everyone did what needed to be done.

At 06:00 we started getting folks into their wheelchairs. The moment they were off of their mattress, someone was stripping the bed of the food and fluid stained linens, and someone else was hauling the mattress out to an awaiting semi trailer. All of the patient belongings (and this was a meager stash) were loaded up, along with the few supplies the nursing home had managed to bring with them. At 09:00 the first bus was there, as promised. We met again briefly to finalize logistics, tell each other how much we appreciated each other's help, and regroup. Our firefighters loaded all the folks we could on the buses, leaving only the most critical and most ill patients for the ambulances. The ones that could walk needed assistance making it up the stairs of the buses, the ones that could not walk were carried. One little firecracker goosed one of our firefighters and gave me a huge exaggerated wink. I'm still not sure if he knows this little tweak wasn't an accident, but those of us that saw her sly little eye know the truth.

I traveled on the first bus back to Lake Charles. The evacuation order had just been lifted at 06:00, and the roads were barely passable at times. The ride went smoothly at first, but some of the residents in all the hubbub and confusion thought they were going to be shipped off somewhere else and started to panic. One little lady up front near me started to cry, and all I could do was stand in the aisle and hold her while she cried. She was inconsolable, and my holding her did nothing but make me feel better. I tell you now, I cried with her the rest of that trip. Once we arrived at the nursing home, she didn't want to get off the bus. "If you leave me here by myself I'll die, I can't take care of myself alone" was what she kept repeating, and we could not convince her she was home. Once we managed to get her off the bus, our geriatric psychiatrist sat with her and ended up having to medicate her, because she was so upset. By the time we left, she was sleeping. I can only hope that when she wakes up she knows she's safe at home.

Many of the residents were concerned about getting off the bus. Once I realized they still had not seen a familiar face, I went inside, brought a care assistant onto the bus, and things went much more smoothly. The care assistant would say "Hi Anna Banana!" or "There's my Sweetheart, Elsie" and their faces would light up at the sound of a familiar voice, the sight of a familiar name, and the loving teasing of someone whom they knew.

The unloading of the buses went smoothly. No one was hurt at all, not even a bump or scrape. They got into the home, saw their favorite staff member; be it maintence, care assistant or dietary; hugs and laughter all around. There's no place like home.

We all cheered as the last lady was carried off the bus. She started to cry. They were all home, they were all safe. She wasn't the only one crying. I saw big macho firefighters wiping the "sweat out of their eyes."

It was fun to walk through the halls of the nursing home and hear the residents saying "I'm not in the right wheelchair." and "When is lunch?" They were back in their environment, and all was well, except this minor change in routine. The adapted back so well.

Less than 27 hours after we arrived in Rosepine, LA we had come together as a team, loved a group of vulnerable folks and relocated this group to a safe environment. The nursing home was a pristine place. No smell, bright colors and personal items everywhere. They were home.

I have never experienced anything like this and hope I never have to again. It was the most demanding thing both physically and emotionally, I have ever done, AND the most rewarding. It was the worst and best experience in my life.

As we left the nursing home, we stopped at a local volunteer fire department to get directions. One of the evacuees staying in the Lafayette SNS had been trying to find out about his home. He just wanted to know if it was still standing. He had called FEMA, the police, the fire department, but they were all too busy to make individual home checks (understandably so. I have pictures I will share when I get home.) We got the directions and drove to his home. It is still standing, not even a limb on the roof. The wires are down, and he will not have electricity for several weeks, but his home is there. Bob, one of my co-horts, took pictures of this fellow's house, and we were off to Lafayette. When we got the the SNS, Bob downloaded the pictures from his camera into his laptop computer, and went to get Lee. They sat down at the table across from us (me, the IC, and a few other top brass) and Lee hollered "That's my house!" He was so excited, we all "wiped the sweat from our eyes" as he told us about his house and how proud he was of it. It's just a little lime green Cajun shack, but it is his castle, and it's still standing. As he got up from the table, he gave Bob the biggest hug, and both he and Bob shared a tear. The little things mean a lot.

Here's the message. LOVE WORKS MIRACLES! Love got 134 people off the floor and into their home without a scratch. Love got 26 medical folks to forget their job descriptions and do what needed to be done. Love gave a cute little ol' Cajun man the first solid nights sleep in over 2 weeks. Love one another and anything can happen.

With all my love,
Angela

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10/09/2005

Hi Y'all,

I find it so interesting that those of us that live north of the Mason-Dixon line have picked up this greeting. It sure is funny to hear a mid-western accent and a y'all in the same breath.

More interesting events. Makes me know, once again, that I was meant to be here.

One of our evacuees went missing the other day. He had gone to an appointment at the VA clinic at 09:00 and was finished with his evaluation at 14:30. His family arrived here at the SNS around 15:00, and we could not locate him. We were not sure if he got on a shuttle to the Cajun dome (the general shelter in the area that has held over 3,500 hurricane survivors at its most populous moments) or if he just wandered off. Willie was a bit confused on a good day, and could have ended up just about anywhere.

Someone thought they had seen him get on the shuttle to the Cajun dome, so we sent several of the shelter volunteers and the sheriff and city police there to look for him. We had a positive sighting of him sitting on the grass outside of the Cajun dome; so all efforts were focused on that area.

By 18:00, we still had not found Willie. We had people staking out the chow lines at the Cajun dome, figuring since he was diabetic; he most likely would think to get food. Seth and Ben, two of the firefighters who had been with me in Rosepine and had experience looking for lost folks, volunteered to go looking as well, but since they did not know what he looked like, I tagged along for a positive ID. Our description was a 6'2" 180" African American man with graying hair. There are more than a few folks wandering around this area with that description.

Seth and Ben thought we should go back to the location we last knew for sure he was, and that was the VA Clinic. We headed that direction and brain stormed on the way. They asked if he had any specific likes. They had once found a lady who had wandered off at an ice cream shop, because her family told them that she just loved ice cream.

All I knew about Willie was that he had a syncopal episode (had passed out) in a convience store, had been taken to the ER via EMS, and then had ended up in our shelter until his family could come from Alabama to pick him up. We decided to circle the VA clinic, and then check all the convience stores between the clinic and the Cajun dome. We were 2 blocks away from the VA Clinic, and I looked to my left and said, "Pull in, that's him!"

Willie was just standing outside a convience store, cane in hand, looking around. We pulled up to him and I approached saying, "Well, Hi Willie, we've been looking for you." Bewildered, he said "hi," just responding to someone knowing his name. I asked him if he remembered me from the special needs shelter and he said, "Oh, um, sure, I remember you," but I know he didn't. I asked him if he had eaten, and a polite "No, Ma'am" was the response. I told him I had a hot meal waiting for him back at the shelter, and he gladly hopped into the van with us.

Less than 10 minutes after we left the shelter looking for Willie, we had him in the van and on his way to a safe haven. I worry about Willie, as the potential for exploitation is so great. He would have gone with anyone who knew is name. We have things in the works to get someone appointed a guardian for him; I just hope he is safe until then. When he left yesterday with his brother and niece I felt good knowing I was meant to find Willie. Even if I had not had the experience at Rosepine, my time here in Louisiana would have been worth all the fuss and bother, because I helped find Willie.

I have decided a life government work is not for me. Things have been so disorganized, changing on a moments notice, and sometimes changing without anyone being aware of what the plan is. Sometimes the plan hasn't even being thought out. The hypocrisy in command is difficult to deal with at times. I had thought I might like to extend my deployment, but I know now I need to get home to my fellas, and need to be done with the PHS and it's bureaucracy for the time being. I am glad to have had this experience, and will volunteer again, some other time, but I am ready to be home with my boys, seeing the leaves change color in Northern Michigan and sleeping in my bed.

I miss you, Paul. There were many times yesterday I wanted to call you, but had little good to say. Yesterday was a day full of bureaucratic bullshit and morale was low for most of us. Hug my Boo-Bear and get my pillows fluffed. I'll be home before you know it. Looking forward to seeing you on kidney day.

All my Love,
Angela

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10/11/2005

Morning Darlin' Boys,

We are in the process of shutting down the Lafayette SNS. When we arrived just over a week ago, there were over 50 displaced hurricane survivors housed here. Many from Rita, a few from Katrina, some affected by both. All needing a safe haven, but needing a little more than most.

We have taken care of kids from age 12-26 with cerebral palsy, dialysis patients, amputees, many with severe confusion/dementia/alzheimers, some who just could not get around. At this moment all but 4 of them are relocated. Many to their homes, or the homes of their friends and family, but some to nursing homes and even a few to inpatient rehabilitation facilities (I'm proud to say.)

I have learned so much down here.

We went to New Orleans yesterday to check out our remaining folks living quarters. One of the areas we went in to was an education all in itself. Describing it as a rough neighborhood would be charitable at best. We all stayed in a large group and soon discovered that while this highrise was intact and most of the units undisturbed, our evacuee would not be able to move back in for several months. The stench was unreal (more about that in a bit) and the insurance company needed to come in and inspect before they would open the doors. But the electricity was on.

A nearby party store had the entire side of it blown out, and curiosity got the best of us. We approached the owner to ask how the damage occurred, how the wind could have done such damage. He told us he had very little damage from Katrina, the damage to his building was caused by someone driving a forklift into the side of the building. They then took everything, including the safe and cash-register, and he pointed to the remains of these items in the street across the parking lot.

We then headed to the other side of town to check out another residence. We were stopped by New Orleans police about 1 mile from their home. We were told that area of town was closed, was not habitable and would not be for several months "if ever". Saddened that we could not get to this residence, we turned around and went on the look for Burbon Street.

We took pictures of the x's on the houses. The x's tell a huge story. Once a home was searched, the searchers would spray paint a huge X on the front, with the date, who did the searching and home many survivors were found inside alive, how many dead and if any pets were recovered. WE all cheered at the X with 9-12 as a date, TXR (Texas Recovery) near the x, 0 and 0 for found inside. The cheers were for the next words on the wall. "Recovered, 1 cat, 3 fish. Search Petfinders.com" Let's get these families complete again. I thought of Lee and Doug and the conversation we had recently about the hurricane Doug rode out with his pooch because he was not allowed to take him with him when ordered to evacuate. Families are more than just people.

Traffic was extremely congested. Military vehicles, construction vehicles and other utility trucks filled the narrow streets of New Orleans. Refridgerators were everywhere, duct taped shut with warnings written on them. It seems everyone decided to throw out their fridges instead of attempting to clean them out, and I can not say I blame them. The stench I mentioned earlier was of mold and mud but also rotten food. There were a few restaurants that had been inspected along Burbon Street and were allowed to open, but I have to tell you, the smell would have prevented me from eating at any of them. We did kind of get used to the odor in the 45 minutes we were on Burbon Street, but it was so offensive, dinner was not on my mind.

We stopped at a shop on Burbon Street and charged in en-mass. They had t-shirts that said "Katrina Disaster Rescue Team" on them, and we bought out the store. I also got my fellas t-shirts from the Big Easy, and Mardi Gras beads to pass out at work. This little Cajun shop keeper and his wife were in hog heaven and must have cleared over $1,000.00 in just 1/2 hour. We did our part to boost the economy in New Orleans.

When we got back to the Heymann Center, we wandered around our empty shelter, relocated our things to the patient care area, and got ready for dinner. The Heymann Performing Arts Center is getting ready to reopen to the public for their shows. The Full Monty is playing here by the end of the month and they need their practice space. We have moved our bunks out of the lobby, balcony and hallways of the auditorium, and are now living on the other side of the shelter where just days ago we had many displaced hurricane survivors. We joke that we now are partaking in the whole evacuee experience, but that could not be further from the truth. We all have homes to go back to, we all know where our friends and family are living, and we all know that by Saturday morning, we will all be eating pancakes with our families and washing the last of the LA grime from our hair. We could never understand the hurivcane survivor experience, and Thank God for that.

I went to dinner last night with our new Incident Commander and 2 other nurses. We went to a delightful restaurant called Prejean's and ate the most incredible Cajun food. I had Crawfish enchiladas and a shrimp and asparagus salad. Oh My Goodness! Better food could not be found. I bought the restaurant's cookbook, so beward. Spicy Cajun food coming your way!

Let me share with you what I have learned...

Disasters bring out the worst in some people.
Disasters bring out the best in some people.

Cajun food can be absolutely inedible (gizzards)
Cajun food can be a culinary delight (last night)

Austere conditions by FEMA's standards can include showers and electricity.

NutriaRats are not good eating (no matter what the local government tries to tell you)NutriaRats are interesting to look at (See a beaver and possum combined with HUGE orange teeth; don't worry, I have pictures)

Never believe what you are told by a government organization until 5 minutes after it happened, and even then, believe it when it you can not see any different outcome.

Military life is NOT for me, I like more structure in my life (ironic)

I am the most fortunate woman in the world to have you guys in my life. You have supported me, allowed me to follow my heart and help others and you both support me in my everyday as well. You can not know how much this fact has become clear to me in the last several days. You guys are amazing and I love you so for your unselfishness in letting me be me.

I'll see you soon, and miss you much!

Love from LA,
Angela

Tuesday, December 05, 2006

Moved, Again

From Canton to Clawson.

I have never been so happy to move.

The place in Canton was ok, better than the hotel room in Ann Arbor, but Clawson; it's like old home week. I know were things are. I remember eating at that place, skipping class at that place, getting my prom dress drycleaned at that place, Uncle Art living down there, taking dance lessons there, going roller skating there, kissing a boy behind that building on a cool february evening after play practice. Things look familure. I know where I am. I know where I am going.

I'm a mile and a half from my in-laws, and just under 2 miles from my brothers. I'm walking distance to my old high school. I remember delivering pizza's in the apartment complex I live in. I wonder if I ever delivered to someone in this actual unit?

If I have to be so far away from home, it's nice to be in my hometown. I have lived north of the 45th parallel for over 11 years now, but this is still my 'hood. I lived here, I grew up here, I laughed, cried, played hookie, smiked cigarettes, fell in and out and in and out and in love here.

Can't wait to go to Thomas Video, Flip Side Records, Lim's Chinese Restaurant, Delmar's Restaurant, Good Food Company, Anita's Kitchen, THE OAKLAND MALL (I lived there for several years I believe). But I miss the Abby Theater, The Washington Theater, La Fondu, Sherman's, Joe's Army/Navy, and many other places that are gone that I have yet to discover.

I feel more at home in this area than in Alpena. A move in my future? Well, actually, I have already moved, haven't I. Perhaps a move in my family's future (That means you too, Dad)