My Weekend Warrior

The weekend warrior is a term given to individuals who engage in physically demanding projects strictly on weekends. During the week, they are obedient citizens who follow a daily routine, drive between the lines, and sit at their desks filing TPS reports...


...Didn't you get the memo?






But during the weekend, the brown shoes are kicked aside and the Birkenstocks come on. The ties loosen and are then worn as sweat bands. The button-down oxfords come off and the undershirts stay on.

The weekend warrior is ready for action. Hand them a shovel and they'll dig up that bush that's been dead since winter. Show them the carpet and they'll tear that sucker right off the floor with their teeth. Ask my husband to replace the outdoor lightbulb that's been out for months and he'll run straight to the fields....the football fields.

My husband is a weekend warrior of a different class. During the week, he is a dedicated full-time Northrop Grumman employee, a favorite part-time instructor at UMBC, and part-time master's student...his SECOND master's. But on weekends, he's just a kid...and rightfully so!

On Saturdays, all he wants is his fried egg sandwich and to watch tv in a horizontal position. He enjoys his cat naps with Murry and a diet orange soda seated next to him. That's pretty much it.

On Sundays, he is a LITTLE more physically active. His heart rate actually fluctuates and the couch gets a break FROM him (for just a few hours). Sundays is my warrior's holy day of football.

7:30am my weekend warrior wakes up to get ready for his day. He searches through the closet looking for his UnderArmor shirt. He gets me to dress his wounds from last week's game with an ACE bandage wrapped around his wrist. (It's actually gravel burn on the palms of his hands!) I am barely awake by the time he leaves, but I manage to constant remind him to stretch out before AND after his game...

...2 years ago I never would have thought that he could play football again. I remember that one December day when this warrior called me at work asking to bring home a crutch from work. He said he was playing basketball (by himself, I always joke).

"I heard a pop and felt my knee move like this, " he described as he moved his fists away from each other opposite directions. We didn't think it was a big deal...rest, ice, elevation...until he woke up in the middle of the night in agony. His knee had doubled in size from the swelling and he could barely walk to the bathroom without feeling nauseous or clammy.

We quickly found ourselves at Greater Baltimore Medical Center's ER with news that Has had not only completely torn his MCL, but the entire "unhappy triad", which included the MCL, meniscus, and worst of all, his ACL. We were "unhappy" because the torn ACL meant surgery and months of rehab. I knew it, but Has had no idea.


"We don't have to move the mattress to the first floor, " he reassuring told me. HA! Little did he know that after the surgery he wouldn't be able to climb stairs or see our bedroom for the next 2 weeks!
My warrior was brave...he endured the needles and prodding of the arthroscopic probes. But there he was, laying in the stretcher recovering from the anesthesia...my subdued warrior pale as a ghost. It was frightening to see him like that...dry lips, IVs in each hand, and a level of consciousness that was not Hassan. For once I did not want to be a nurse...I understood too much...

Getting my subdued husband home was challenge of its own. It was up to his father and I to bear most of his weight and act as his good knee. "I'll be alright, " Has said as he tried to bear own weight while getting out of the car. I almost trusted him and found myself almost crushed to death as he realized just how weak he was. His father, I knew was scared. I had never seen him look so helpless before.

The healing warrior slept most of the day and into the night. He awoke with bouts of nausea and dry heaving as he soon realized that the pain was ever-present. Surprisingly, the rehab started the very next day. Painful at first with tiny knee bends on a machine that did the moving for him. Eventually, his range of motion increased...he could stand with a cane, sit independently on the toilet, and even step over the ledge into the shower. (Don't ask about the sponge baths before this!)

So, I look at how far this weekend warrior has come...6 months of rehab, a 20 pound weight loss, and the simple fact that he can now get into the car and drive again. I thank God that his surgery was successful and that Dr. Bennett (orthopedic surgeon) has been pleased with every follow-up appointment. This is Dr. Bennett...

So, when I see this weekend warrior come home and walk through the door after playing football for 4 hours, I go through a series of feelings. Happy that he's home. Scared that he may be limping. Concerned that something new may be swollen. Or worried that he has reinjured something that has healed.

Scrapes and bruises don't worry me as much...

Even as he is sitting down to take off his shoes and socks, I watch closely for unusual muscle tightness. I half-anticipate that some tendon will suddenly snap and shoot up his leg if he moves a certain direction.

"Make sure you stretch, " I always remind this warrior after he comes home. I'm happy that he can continue to play football after all things said and done. What would he do if he could never play anything ever again? How unhappy and depressed he would be!

The lightbulb outside can wait............for a few more weekends.

Headache

My goal was to post something tonight, but this persistent headache has gotten the best of me. I'm taking 2 Tylenols and calling it an early night.

Good night everyone...

Part 3: "I thought I recognized you!"

Though it doesn't fall along the lines of "I thought I recognized you!", the higher meaning of this story is simple: Christina, keep you mouth closed.

I was at the infamous grocery store (from Part 1) once again with the shopping cart in tow. Weaving up and down the fruit section, my eye caught something unbelievable. Blueberries for 99 cents! And not just a pint of blueberries, an honest-to-goodness QUART of blueberries for 99 cents! (If you are avid berry shopper like myself, these suckers are usually expensive...about $1.99 for just one puny pint! And now a QUART!)

I looked around the store in disbelief...are you freaking kidding me?!?!?! Am I the only one in this store realizing this GREAT sale? Do I hoard the blueberries and risk drawing attention to myself? It was like someone had dropped a hundred dollar bill on a busy sidewalk and everyone is too busy to notice.

I see a grocery store employee who is strategically stacking oranges in those neat pyramids one aisle over. My mouth dry from excitement, I speak softly careful to not embarrass myself.

"Are those blueberries REALLY 99 cents?"

Grocery store employee looks up: "Did the "9" fall off again?"

"Huh?" I lean over the blueberries and stand on my tippy toes peering at the sign. I notice that ".99" is posted above the blueberries, but that a "9" has fallen off the wall and was laying flat on the ground.

"Damn, " I thought to myself. Good thing I asked! That explains it, although expensive, it was acutally $9.99 for blueberries

"I knew those were too good to be true!" I say out loud back at the clerk. I continue on with my shopping into the dairy aisle.

"Don't you need blueberries?" the clerk said behind me.

"No, not for $9.99!" I gawk at him. What am some berry-freak? $10 bucks for blueberries?

I finish my grocery shopping, checking off all the items I needed, and frequently adding extra items to the cart. (Don't we all do that?!)

I'm now in the check-out line (15 items or less, cash or credit) placing my items neatly on the conveyor belt. Yogurt, eggs, milk for tea, whole wheat bread, onions, and green peas among other random things (not including the blueberries). My items advance foward as a woman behind me begins stacking her groceries on the same conveyor belt.

It may seem that there are berry-freaks in this part of the world...crazies perhaps, because this woman as stacked SIX quarts of those blueberries on the belt forming a blue Great Wall of China! SIX quarts! Did she also fall for the 99 cent blueberry temptation? And what does she need with SIX freaking quarts of blueberries?!?

"That's $60 bucks worth of blueberries!" I thought to myself, "My God, is she a CrAzY?"

I imagined her arriving at home opening her door walking over and pushing through a cluttered home of old magazines, chairs covered with plastic, crocheted table cloths, and 50 hungry stray cats to feed. She opens her refridgerator to find room for the newly purchased blueberries. To make room, she moves the severed head of her murdered husband which is neatly stored in a Tupperware she has had since the 70's and places the blueberries next to him. "Perfect!" she says to herself, "Blueberry pie and preserves for the sheriff!" She must be psychotic!

ANYWAYS, back to reality...

I ponder in my attached head as the cashier rings up my groceries, "Does she really think they are 99 cents? Should I save this woman the embarrassment of purchasing $60 bucks worth of blueberries?" The old Christina would have said "YES" in a heartbeat, but something inside of me felt like I should keep my mouth shut. I thought about my past history of jumping to conclusions too quickly and thought, "WWHD**?" Best to keep it to myself.

I purposely sign the reciept slower than usual so I can eve's drop on the woman's purchase. She rang up the blueberry fortress first.

"99 cents" displayed on the screen.

"Wha tha?!?!?!" my eyes screamed. Was this some sick joke? I'm sure glad that I kept my mouth shut! I felt wiser in my judgement of keeping my mouth shut, but I'm sure I had a look of disbelief written all over my face. Then, I felt a pang of embarrassment...

I flashed back to my conversation with the clerk stacking those oranges. He was joking around with me! I knew he sounded sarcastic, but I thought he was just frustrated that the "9" kept falling off the wall. Damn, him! I could have been one of the first to purchase those blueberries!

I hastely push my cart out to the car and load up the groceries in the trunk.

Damn him! I kept thinking to myself. I wanted those blueberries! Instead of driving off mad, I walk back into the store and straight to the blueberries (careful to not run into that orange-pyramid maker). I grab a quart of ripe blueberries and a package of butter.

"I'm makin' somethin'!" I mumble. Without protest, I puchase my blueberries for 99 cents.

I feel confused and full of mixed emotions...I should feel proud because I saved face when I kept my mouth shut in the checkout line. But then I feel embarrassed because I fell for the orange-pyramid man's joke. I thought it was really $9.99 and it turned out to be 99 cents, but had to come back into the grocery store a second time because I kept my mouth shut. If I had embarrassed myself, sacrificed my dignity, listened to the true Tanookie inside, I could have saved myself the second trip.

Was this a win-win situation? A 3-3 tie or a net zero situation because I felt like I had not gained anything at all! Only a perplexing quart of blueberries in which I had no idea what to make.

Sheesh.

**"WWHD" means "What Would Hassan Do?"

Baltimore Metro

Ahhh...there are so many things I love about Baltimore. I love the famous Inner Harbor, Vaccaro's in Little Italy, waving at the Duck Tour as I walk to work, admiring the one-of-a-kind homes in Roland Park, and watching Broadway shows at the Hippodrome...

...secretly, I enjoy walking behind Baltimoreans as they purposely clear their throat and lunge their smokey luggies onto the pavement. And who could not love walking down the streets of Baltimore and square-dance around the remains of chicken wings whose meat has been sucked clean off the bone. Oh! And one can capture on film, honest-to-goodness hair extentions that are randomly scattered like tumbleweeds througout the streets of Baltimore...

Today, I rode the Baltimore Metro into the city instead of driving. Unfortunately, everyone else had the same idea. It was unusally crowded, hot and humid, with several delays that made everyone upset. Among disgruntled subway riders, I overheard a very loud conversation between an African-American female from Baltimore City(BC) and a female Jewish Owings Mills suburbanite about being late for work:

BC resident says outloud: "Come on, now...we all have to get to work!"
Suburbanite relates: "Really...we all have mortages to pay. "
BC resident say: "Look at those kids, they can't even get in the subway car because it's SO at crowded! "
Suburbanite sticks out her neck: "Well, it's not my fault. "

Oh, oh...at this point I stop reading my book and listen closely to this conversation. Was I about to be a witness to a early-morning subway brawl? All I wanted to do is just make it to class on time!

Fortunately, I was wrong...the BC resident and suburbanite relate on some level about Baltimore politics and who to complain about the subway being too crowded. Relieved, I continue reading my book. Then...

BC resident says: "I'm already 45 minutes late for work!"
Suburbanite agrees: "Yup!"
BC resident offers this piece of interesting information: "And, I'm really gonna get in trouble because I'm already on probation!"

Hmmm...the suburbanite should have just stopped there.

Suburbanite TRIES to relate: "And it doesn't matter what you tell your boss. All they see is "Probation" written all over you and hold that against you. Nothing else matters to them. "

Yikes.....I swallow hard. Did she just say that? Did she just assume that this woman was on probation from jail?

BC resident wearily clarifies: "I'm on probation with work. "

Sheesh...I'm glad for once that was not me.

YUM-OOOOOO!

For the sweet tooths and those who never want the summer to end, Nursemeens told me about the special at Baskin Robbins. (Miss you, Meens!)

Enjoy! I know I will! Click here for more info & locations

Rundown of my week...

Sunday: Worked in the PICU as my required holiday. Not happy because life goes on without me-Has goes to VA for a BBQ. I was the charge nurse and facilitated patient transfers and discharges...so many patients that we went from needing 8 nurses during the day to 5 nurses for the night.

Monday (Labor Day): Slept in. French toast for breakfast! Has and I packed up our bikes and went biking along the NCR Trail in Hunt Valley. This convereted trail was an old railroad track that extended from PA to MD over a total of 2o-something miles and located along a shallow riverside. Popular with hikers, bikers, canoers, water-tubers, and marathon runners because of it's flat terrains. We bike a total of 16 miles (not bad)! Beautiful day and ate an early dinner at Chipotle!

Tuesday: Second week of classes...all day with no lunch and study group afterwards. Still haven't paid my school bill. Rode Baltimore's METRO system and held my breath because it smelled bad and the trip in general made me nauseous. But it was worth saving the gas.

Wednesday (First day of clinical at Loyola College): 10 minutes late because of stupid Charles Street! This semester I will be the student Family Nurse Practitioner at Loyola's Student Health Center. VERY laid back environment and handled various appointment from panic attack to UTIs. Interesting fact #1: Because Loyola is a Catholic university, we are not allowed to prescribe ANY form of birth control including pills or condoms. Interesting fact #2: Loyola is one of Maryland's largest drinking schools and associated with the University of Notre Dame, an all-women's college with a large lesbian and pregnant population. Hmmmmm.....

Thursday: Study day (yuk). Published my blog about "As Seen on TV" products (yeah!). Went to Hopkins Hospital for the Camp All-Stars orientation for Sept 24-25th. This overnight camp is free to pediatric patients from Johns Hopkins and the University of Maryland Pediatric Nephrology (kidney) Department. All of these kids have some form of kidney failure, some with kidney transplants, and others on home dialysis. I will be a camp counselor with my own group of kids. Our goal for the weekend is make sure they forget their chronic illness, make new friends, and experience a "typical" camp environment. I'm SO siked!!!!!

Friday (Clinical at Dr. Lazar's family practice): MUCH different environment than Loyola...saw a whirlwind of patients that were scheduled and double-booked, ate a free lunch sponsored by Pravachol, and wondered if a patient I saw had a boob-job. They were REALLY perky!

Saturday (my plan): Sleep in. Work on my senior paper. Read my assigned readings for this week. Work on a lecture about pediatric respiratory diseases (epiglottitis, tracheomalacia, and viral croup). Then, maybe go to a "Body Shop" party at my friend's house...depending if I get all the previously mentioned done before 4pm!

A Horrible Secret

For those that have been to our home, they see a nicely decorated, organized, and clean house. But, within the closets and depths of our basement lies a secret...a horrible little secret that my husband has lived with and endured over years. With every doorbell that rings and monthly credit card bill that he opens, he holds his breath in hopes that it has not happened again...."As Seen On TV".

I'm literally a "junkie" when it comes to "As Seen On TV" products. When I see ads on TV that promises me convenience, claims outrageous results, or "takes off one payment" resulting in unbelievable bargains, my eyes dilate and hands become clammy. I'm not sure why I'm such a sucker for these products...maybe it's because I'm mesmerized by the personal testimonials of celebrities or because I'm infatuated with that stout red-haired woman that can make desserts out of diet sodas.

So here are my TRUE testimonials..."As Seen On TV" products that I have purchased and strategically hid througout our house out of sheer embarrassment and just plain lack of space.

Secret #1 in our laundry room: The Turbo Cooker

This was my first indulgence in "As Seen On TV". I first heard about this product from a fellow respiratory therapist who made an incredible low-calorie, super-moist yellow sponge cake with NO oil. He made it with the Turbo Cooker and I was blown away at the key ingredient: DIET SODA. HOW COOL IS THAT?!?!?!? Before I knew it, he lent me the instruction video for the Turbo Cooker so that I could fully comprehend it's awesome potential. I pursued scholarly research on late-night infomercials and surfed the internet for "reliable" product information. The science made sense: using steam AND heat in an enclosed dome to cook even faster...turbo fast!

Soon, I became the proud owner of my very own Turbo Cooker! It came with a variety of recipies promising meals in less than 30 minutes. I "turbo cooked" spaghetti, egg omelets, chocolate cake with a diet cherry soda topping, and the infamous frozen chicken. The thrill-factor was like discovering an ice-age caveman on National Geographic, this cooker thawed, cooked, and rotisserized a frozen chicken in less than an hour. I SWEAR!

Despite the frozen chicken revival, this product soon lost it's lustre. It went from "turbo cooking" glorious meals to reheating last night's chinese stir-fry to collecting dust on the stovetop. Too large to keep in the kitchen cabinets, it eventually made its permanent home in the depths of our basement.

Secret #2 in our guest room closet: The Handy Stitch

I had large expectations for this pint-sized sewing machine. Like Martha Stewart, I wanted to make my own pillowcases and dinner napkins. I wanted to make cute little pouches out of denim for all my friends. But, more than ever, I wanted to try hemming curtains while they still hung off the rods!

Damn my 7th grade home economics class at Gaithersburg Intermediate School! I was a fumbling fool trying to thread that handheld nightmare. NEVER was I able to thread the machine right. When I tried to sew, no thread came out, and when it did it, tangles everywhere! I made more knots than actual stitches. I used more thread than they provided me.

Instead of a "Handy Stitch", I purchased a useless pinhole maker. "Handy Stitch" my A$$!

Secret #3 behind our TV cabinet: "Winsor Pilates"

Graduate school and working in the PICU has always kept me busy. I constantly look for the perfect exercise routine that I can do after school and work without requiring me to leave the house. I pursued my scholarly research once again and found the perfect solution: "Winsor Pilates"! Not only did it guarantee that I lose inches of my waist, but it was a "yoga-esque" exercise routine that I could relax to and enhance my flexibility.

I'm not sure what totally convinced me: Daisy Fuentes' shocking weight loss or Danny Glover's heartfelt testimonial. Nonetheless, "Winsor Pilates" was promptly delivered right to my home. It was a collection of DVDs that I could do right in the privacy of my basement...thank God, because these exercise routines required a significant degree of strength and coordination. A Cirque du Soleil contortionist would be embarrased by its awkward and unsightly positions that were rhythmically repeated.

It wasn't quite what I was looking for: boring routines that didn't make me sweat and athletic, attractive women that just made me angry...do they really need the workout? I honestly gave it a try, but I'd rather enjoy a pistachio gelato...YUM-O!



Secret #4 on the return shelf at Bed, Bath & Beyond: The Lateral Thigh Trainer

With "Winsor Pilates" safely tucked away, I became more vigilant than ever in finding a convenient workout solution that suite the demands of my work and school schedule. Once again, my late-night TV watching got the best of me. The "Lateral Thigh Trainer" seemed to be the perfect execise machine...lightweight, compact, yet it guaranteed a complete cardiovascular and muscle-toning workout. I've been on step machines at the gym before, how different could it be? Oh, how I loves to proves me wrong!
With my 20% coupon in hand, I purchased the "Thunderthigh Trainer" at Bed, Bath & Beyond. It was easy to assemble, and within minutes I was taming my thighs in the up/down, left/right motion at the same time!

HAHA!!!! Take that, "As Seen on TV"!!!!!!!
For 2 weeks, I had a consistent workout routine. With my water bottle in one hand and sweat towel over my shoulder, I felt like I had my own personal gym in the basement. I even had to freaking stretch out before jumping on this bad boy! With every step I took, I thought about how I got my money's worth. With every workout, I pushed harder to feel the burn...

...the burn of money falling out of my pocket...DAMN IT TO HELL!!! I don't know if it was sheer laziness or boredom, but after a while, the workouts weren't as challenging and my routine became less routine. Luckily, I kept the reciept, returned it, and laterally stepped out of Bed, Bath & Beyond as quickly as I purchased it.

AND finally Secret #5 on my bathroom sink: Proactiv

Discouraged by all the previous purchases, I was reluctant to buy this product. However, I was pretty desperate to find a solution to get rid of some new pimples on my face. What pimples do I have you ask? SEE it does work...

For some odd reason, tiny pimples on my face decided to take a vacation and sunbath on my face. That forced me to go to the dermatologist THREE times and pay a hefty $40 co-pay with each visit. After weeks of antibiotics and applying three different creams on my face with temporary results, I turned to Jessica Simpson for help.

I was at Towson Mall one day walking by the kiosks. I absolutely HATE walking by the kiosks because its like an "As-Seen-On-TV Gone-Wild" nightmare for me. I could write an entire blog on how I feel personally harrassed by these salespeople.

Fake purses, rain gutter protectors, fake hair, oh my...

Anyways, as I was trying to dodge the teen offering to massage my head with an alien probe, I spotted Jessica Simpson and the "Proactiv Solution".

I was so terrorfied to purchase this product because 1) it was a kiosk 2) would it work? 3) it was a kiosk! I questioned the woman to see if she knew her stuff about Proactiv and if there was a money-back guarantee. I even asked her if her Kiosk were to somehow "go out of business" where could I return it. She assured me (despite being 8 months pregnant) that her kiosk would still be in the mall and I could get a full refund if it didn't work.

Well...to let you know, I never got the refund. Not because it didn't work or because she took my money and went MIA. I never got the refund because Proactiv actually worked. Yup, Jessica's not the only one who can say "these boots are made for walkin'".

Finally...an "As Seen On TV" success story I can testify to!

Part 2: "I thought I recognized you!"

Ready for Part II? I don't think it's as nearly as embarrassing, but Has could say differently. This is his favorite story because it happened in his very presence and as soon as we were alone, he made a point to talk about it all night long! HUMPHHH!

We were at our annual neighborhood "block party" (remember those days?). Odd-numbered houses brought dessert and even-numbered houses brought appetizers. I was SO excited to be apart of this year's block party because last year, we moved in after the block party was held. I even requested to have that Saturday off from work...what a nerd!

Anyways, with my freshly-fried lumpias (Filipino eggrolls) in hand, I dragged Has out of the house to meet the other neighbors who were gathering in the common area behind our house. "Can't you just go?" he whined. MEN!

The food and drinks were under a large white canopy. We are a pretty young community...young couples without kids, only dogs and cats to worry about. Has calls us "DINKS" for Double-Income-No-Kids.

Kids were screaming and jumping in the "Moon Bounce" as we joined a group of neighbors in a conversation about moldy showers and soggy yards. One CrAzY showed up with her pet ferret on her shoulder. (What tha FREAK?!?!?!?!?!) That was disgusting as I was trying to eat my lumpia. It was crawling all over her neck and head like it was a gymnast on the uneven bars.

By the way, my lumpia was a hit!

We meet this guy who coincidentally made an offer on our house when it was still on the market. "You guys live in the house with the purple and brown basement, right?" (Sounds hideous, but the colors worked out nicely as you can see!) Then, his wife shows up and he introduces us to her. He told us that his wife is also a nurse and works in Maryland.

"I thought I recognized you!" I blurted out. Damn, those famous cursed words! As a fellow nurse, I thought I saw her somewhere within the walls of University of Maryland Medical Center. "What department do you work in?" I pressed.

"In the ER, " she answered uncertainly. "The ER at Northwest Hospital. " I felt the lumpia in my throat. "Oh! You just looked so familiar to me!" (Damn them again!) I assumed she worked "at" Maryland, not just "in" the state of Maryland.

I tried to play it off, but it was too late because from the corner of my eye, I saw Has with this mischevious smile on his face. I knew I was in for some major teasing once we were back in the house!

"Drag me to that block party...I'm gonna get you back!!!" his eyes said to me.