Charlie and Construction Workers.

It all started with a geology trip I had to take down the Columbia Gorge. I needed someone to drive while I navigated and took pictures of the geological wonders along the Columbia Gorge. So, I asked my mom if she would go with me. She said she could, but we would have to take Charlie her very protective Dachshund.

We left Sunday night and drove to The Dalles and stayed in a pet friendly Comfort Inn. All night long, Charlie would give these low menacing growls every time he heard someone walking down the hall. Apparently, Charlie had appointed himself trip security.

By the morning time Charlie was so worked up about strangers just outside our door walking around he couldn't handle it anymore. When mom came back from grabbing some food from our free continental breakfast and I sleepily opened the door, Charlie made a break for the hallway to see these evil strangers and started barking his head off. Just down the hall was this huge construction worker with typical work boots, hammer and T-shirt walking, that's when Charlie went all 'German special forces assassin' on the guy. Charlie took off and was going to rip the guys head off (well, maybe his ankles). The funny thing was the construction worker saw Charlie running for him and he turned and ran too. Well, that just made Charlie more excited that he was actually scaring someone. What a sight, Construction worker running for his life, followed by a crazed dachshund, followed by a sleepy pajama lady yelling, "Charlie, Charlie." Finally, I yelled at the construction worker. "Stop running!" That was the answer, Charlie was deflated when he saw the guy stop. Charlie was no longer scary. He hung his head and turned around and let me carry him back to our room with me saying in a baby voice, "Charlie scared the big ole man away."

Oh, the laughs we had when I was explaining how big the construction worker's eyes got when he saw this little devil dog running for his ankles. I'm sorry but dachshunds look possessed when you can see part of the white of their eyes and their tiny teeth are being barred at you. It is scary. My uncle Dallas said he looks like he's going to bite him like a sewing machine up and down his leg.

The second encounter with a construction worker was at Eastern Oregon University. I took my niece and nephews to the school for a walk and it was getting hot. I told them to get a drink of water from the drinking fountain in the Hoke building while I waited outside with Charlie. These two construction workers came walking towards me and saw me with this little dog and made a joke, "I see you have your attack dog with you." I knew they were making fun of Charlie because he's so little so, I tried to set them straight by informing them, "Well, actually he's pretty vicious." They laughed and before I could stop them one of them bent down towards Charlie with this 'oh, what a cute little puppy' expression on his face when Charlie started acting like he wanted to eat off his face. The construction worker did a reflex startled jump backwards and said, "I thought you were joking. I guess you weren't." Nope, I wasn't joking.

Charlie is very protective of our family and honestly very sweet if he knows you. My dad hurt himself last summer and Charlie was so protective of him as dad laid on the ground that he wouldn't let any of the EMT's get close enough to help him. We had to grab this little tiny dog and throw him in the truck while the EMT's attended to helping dad, growling the entire time. I know I haven't told you any of the cute and sweet things this little dog does, but those just aren't as funny.

OK...Deep thoughts by Jack Handey.

I found this site and it brought back all those college, early ninety memories. Might not be appropriate though...

DeepThoughtsByJackHandey.com

My Words Came Back to Haunt ME!

OK. My life the last 3years has been basically filled with this little thing I like to call nursing school. It was hard and there were times I wanted to throw myself out the window. (Maybe that's why we never had windows in any of our class rooms.) But, I graduated. Yep, got my BS in Nursing. (haha...BS.)

As a graduate in the science of nursing, I can't practice without a license and so they invented this small test they call the NCLEX. (Insert dramatic scary music here) The entire 3years of studying, practicing and occasionally freaking out, rested on the fact that I pass this test. (Absolutely no pressure) Not to mention the fact that I have a job waiting for me when or if I pass this horrible test.

I even enrolled in a class to learn how to pass this test. The NCLEX is a random computerized test that gives you questions that it considers are easy to difficult. It will give you easy questions then if you get it right you get a harder one. If you get the question wrong the computer gives you an easy question. Then, after the computer decides that you will either pass or fail the test with a 95% assurance the computer terminates the test. But, the computer doesn't tell you if you passed or failed...IT JUST ENDS! That basically boils down to you can get the minimum of 75 questions OR the maximum of 265 questions (or any freakingly random number in between!).

I went into the test feeling I had done everything I possibly could to prepare for it. I was thinking positively and trying to keep my anxiety down to a minimum. I finished the test with 75 questions and felt like I knew most of what they were asking me. I felt like I had passed.

I took the test with 3 other students from my class and we all finished about the same time. I was confident I passed and was on the way to become a legal Registered Nurse (RN).

The next day my friend looked on the Oregon State Board of Nursing (OSBN) and her name came up with a RN license number. I put my name in and it came up as 'not found.' I put the names of everyone else who took the test at the same time and their name came up with a license number. Mine was not found...I concluded that I must have failed the test.

I was in shock. I was emotionally numb. The fun weekend celebrating with friends...cancelled. I had nothing to celebrate. I drove from Portland to the La Grande mountains to my dad's cabin, laid down on the cot, stared at the Coleman lamp, called my mom, told her I failed, and had a nervous breakdown. What was I going to do?

I tried to sleep. I'd start to sleep and I would startle myself awake unable to breath. Yeah, this was anxiety to the 10th degree. My mind played over all the questions I had on test and decided that I must have missed every single one. I was embarrassed, depressed and dumbfounded. Then, the weekend came and I went to the testing website to schedule another test, but it wouldn't let me. Then, I saw they had the results of my test in and the testing site said I had...PASSED!?

What the FREAK! I passed? If I passed how come I didn't have a license number? Was this some mean joke? What is going on? On Monday I called the OSBN and they told me that I had passed, but that my transcripts hadn't been sent to them. What the heck? All this misery I put myself through was the result of a paper glitch? Oh, I didn't really care anymore I knew that I passed.

Now, what does this have about my words haunting me? Well, let me tell you. After the NCLEX test, I was talking with a group of my classmates feeling pretty confident about passing the test, when one of the girls said that she had found out that morning that her uncle had committed suicide. She mentioned that she had to put that in the back of her mind until this was all over. That's when I said, "Well, I guess there are worse things than not passing the NCLEX, even though it probably won't feel like it." We all agreed and became philosophical and then continued to talk about the horrible test. That week end...I kept thinking about how IRONIC it was I had said that...ME, the one who didn't pass the test. How little did I know I was going to put those words to a very real and horrifyingly depressing weekend long test.

It was good that by Sunday night I had decided that, 'I'll just work harder and pass the next time,' and that I would survive even though I didn't really feel like I would. Even, though the weekend was horrible I found support from my family and friends that showed me how blessed I am. I had people I could confide in, complain to, and even cry on.