Whew. What a month. And while Autumn is my absolute favorite time of the year, I am happy to say that I’m glad last month went by fast.

Even though I didn’t even get to make a run to the cider mill and get my freshly made donuts and cider. Or my once-a-year Granny Smith caramel apple. Boo-hoo.

I’ve been swamped with work lately that last Sunday I hadn’t realized it was Daylight Savings “Fall Back” Time until 3:30 in the afternoon. While I typically relish the extra hour we get every year, I’ve never had the urge to say that I was glad to have the additional hour to get more things done. Never. Ever. Until this year anyway …

When I took the job as supervisor for this well-known health insurance company, I knew that I would be assigned to a high profile account. And I knew that I would be heavily involved in this employer group’s yearly “Clinical Assessment” (read: audit). What that meant was that this high profile group would come and visit the lovely city of Chicago and sit in our department’s “Medical Library” to listen to each of the RN Case Managers (my direct reports) present clinical cases to them. In which said employer group with their fancy-shmancy (read: expensive) RN Clinical Consultant would pick apart … rake over analyze every little detail.

Now, ordinarily I find opportunity in being part of such an audit. This gives us, as Case Managers, an idea of what we’re doing right and what could be better. It also breaks things down to what “issues” may be business- (theirs or ours) related or system/process-related. All this in an effort to continue to deliver the best for the individual member (read: patient, customer).

Of course with the economy in the pot today … not to mention the huge elephant in the room called “Health Care Reform” … this year’s audit has been placed largely in the spotlight. God forbid the audit goes horribly and we “lose” the business!

Not to mention the incredible pressure I put myself under. After all, this is my first really big project that will put me on center stage. And that I’d be under scrutiny from this employer group, as their previous dealings had been with my current manager. And trust me … I knew that I had some pretty big shoes to fill.

So yeah, this is what I’ve been largely working on for the past two months. I’ve had to prepare a list of over 1,000 cases to be randomly chosen by the group. I had to have my staff pick out one case of their choosing (in addition to the other 3-4 cases that were randomly picked by the group) and write up their presentation. I’ve had to “spiffy-up” each of their cases in the correct “format” requested by the employer group (Geesh, try reformatting months-worth of case stories into an APIE way of documentation!) Oh, and I had to work with each of them, one-to-one, with their delivery of their case presentations.

And did I mention that I had little direction from my manager? You know, the one who has had all the previous experience with these audits?

In reality, I was okay with it though. As tough as it had been getting everything prepared for the audit with little support, I relished that I was able to do things almost all in the way that I wanted to. Because as with other prior experiences with said boss, I felt that if I had gone to her with just a simple question … then she would have completely taken over this project. And I wanted to prove to her (and yes, to myself) that I could handle the audit prep on my own.

Oh, there were some bumps with my boss along the way … like, once again, going over me and directing MY nurses to complete one of their cases prior to the deadline I had set (and she had approved). Or by insisting we have a PRE-mock audit with her before the “official” mock audit; which would obviously be done before the real audit*. But overall, I’m glad I worked my A$$ off just to prove to her that I could do something without little assistance. Maybe (just maybe) then she’ll be able to relinquish some of the reins** she feels she needs to hold onto with her former team.

SO … after all this, you might be asking how the “Clinical Assessment” went. I am happy to report that the employer group’s visit was successful. They were here this past Tuesday and Wednesday and, while they pointed out some processes that need to be revisited or re-tweaked, they were things that I was already aware of. And my staff? They were absolutely incredible. I felt like such a proud Mom***, as I sat there watching them answer every question that was thrown at them with such confidence and ease. It was a long two days, but in the end I came out of it mentally and physically exhausted, yet incredibly satisfied.

But the most uplifting part of it all? As I shook the hand of the RN Clinical Consultant and thanked her for her input and suggestion, she said to me “You had some big shoes to fill.”

“I know,” I told her, while still shaking her hand. “Those shoes are incredibly large and I hope that I can fill them to the best of my abilities.”

“No,” she corrected me. “I said you had big shoes to fill. And you’ve filled them quite well.”

Wow, was all I could think.

So it will be those words that I’ll be living off of for the next few months … nay, years … as I continue to forge forward in this multi-faceted demanding job.

Wish me luck!

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*Yeah … I didn’t get it either. But I figured this was her way of gaining a little “access” and/or control into my whole preparation. So I granted her that much. Give a little, take a little!

**Perhaps she can learn to untie those “Apron Strings”? Tee-hee!

***Hmm … I’m finding the irony in the fact that I’m feeling “Mom”-ish and yet have no real children.

“Poor Me” … that was the headband that Sr. Barbara, the Third Grade teacher at my small Catholic school, would make one of 25 or so kids in my class wear for an entire day at any given moment. It was “awarded” to any classmate whose behavior she deemed appalling.

Imagine a headband like this, sans feathers, that had "Poor Me" written across it ...

Lucky for me, I only found myself wearing that headband maybe once or twice during that year. Okay … maybe three times. There was that incident where Sr. Barbara caught me jump-roping outside during recess without my school uniform on. Relax Mom … I had shorts on underneath that lovely plaid jumper, so I wasn’t completely running around in my day-of-the-week underwear. The correct day-of-the-week underwear, may I add. (At least I think so …)

Punishment like that would never fly in today’s classrooms. It’s (rightly) deemed too humiliating to present to a young child at such an impressionable age.* But that doesn’t stop other children from humiliating a fellow classmate. For instance, Nancy who got “caught” by others digging for gold might suddenly be called “Nose-picker Nancy.” Which, I suppose would be better than being called “Paste-eater Peter.” (I was unfortunately given the nickname “Dummily”)**

Other school-ground embarrassment can also include the feeling of being isolated or singled-out. Perhaps it’s something as silly as refusing to play with a certain individual during lunchtime recess because he/she ate tuna sandwiches for lunch every day. Or it could be as typical as choosing a particular person last in gym class for your team just because he/she wasn’t athletic/graceful enough.

Whatever humiliation is endured at that time, it’s cruel that — even as adults — we still act in such a manner. At times, playing the “Isolation Game” is blatantly obvious: A co-worker may avoid another co-worker for some incredibly vague reason or another. Or a fellow peer may request to be taken off certain projects just so that their name isn’t associated with another employee. Personally, I think it’s sad and childish that certain adults still feel they have to act out in this manner. ***

Then there are those instances where inadvertent humiliation takes place. These are the moments in which one person unintentionally says something that results in the embarrassment of another person. These, if the offender actually realizes that he/she said something off-color … well, these would be known as the “Open Mouth, Insert Foot” moments.

Allow me to use the example in which a skinny friend goes out to meet with her weight-conscious, always-on-a-diet friend for dinner. Skinny Gal orders the largest and fattest piece of red meat out there, while Diet Gal sticks to her plain salad with dressing on the side. And after finishing the meal and despite knowing how self-conscious her friend is about her looks, Skinny Gal states, “G*d, I feel like a cow!”

Heh. An ancient depiction of "Open Mouth, Insert Foot"

And then there’s this scenario. It involves either a well-meaning family member or an “infrequently seen” friend. This person proceeds to make the mistake of reach out for the belly. That action is closely followed by the statement, “Wow. You’ve gained weight! Are you pregnant?”

Yeah, that one’s definitely not my favorite.

I’ve had many of those “thought you were pregnant” moments over the past 13 years of marriage. It doesn’t help that I definitely gained a bit of weight since being married. Nor does it help that I had taken all those meds during those active baby-making “science project” years. And my latest excuse is that I’ve been totally stress-eating since my latest work issues began in June.

But my weight issues aren’t the basis of this latest rambling. Nor is it about feeling humiliated, whether intentional or not. Rather this post is about feeling once again, as if I’ve been left behind.

You see, today I read one of my HS friend’s FB statuses, indicating that her 9-yr old daughter would be going away to overnight camp for the first time this week. And I thought about the strange combination of pride and sadness she probably felt letting her “baby bird” fly away from the nest for a bit; even if it was for no more than two days. And this is probably what started the chain of events and line of thinking leading up to this post.

While I love FB, there are some days where I just want to bury my head in the sand and forget that such an addicting social-networking site ever existed. It has been a wonderful tool for me to catch up with those friends from my “school days.” It has done wonders with keeping in touch with Dr. Bro and Dr. SIL as well as any of my cousins who keep a FB accounts.

Then there are those aspects of FB that make it appear as if I’ve literally been left behind. And today is definitely one of those days. Especially when it comes to seeing friends post pictures or videos of their children. It makes me want to post pictures as well; ones of my “supposed” children. And it makes me want to update my status (via Twitter, of course) with witty statements about what my imaginary kids are up to. It’s moments like that where I feel like I’ve been a “total slacker” in my life. Where I’m just not at the same point in life that my other friends are. That I’m kinda just “stuck” in the marriage phase of my life.

Oh yes, I know realistically that what I’m feeling is pure crap. And I know that despite the fact that I don’t have children of my own, I’ve been pretty successful in my life in other ways.

Yet, there’s this small nagging voice inside my head. It’s the voice that remarkably sounds like a hybrid of my parents and a third-grade version of myself. It’s the one that tells me that I can’t just be average; that I must strive to be the best in everything I do. That I should be a step (or a phase, in this case) ahead of where I’m currently at. That I should always be the one at the top of the class; ahead of all my classmates in everything I do.

Good thing my devil voice doesn't sound like Homer

And that nagging is swiftly followed by the voice of that little red devil on my left shoulder; the one that says, “Face it, Em. You’re so far behind in what you’ve planned for yourself in life. You might as well give it up.” And it’s the same devil voice that tells me that, even if I do have kids now (whether it be my biological child or adopted child), I’d never be able to “catch up” to the rest of those parental peers in my age-group.

It’s, quite frankly, the same voice that tells me I’m a failure for not even being able to pass a pregnancy test. (No multiple choice; just True or False … )

It’s at those moments where we feel like I’ve been instructed to put on a “Poor Me” headband and head to the back of the class. Because, given my conscience lately,  Sr. Barbara would have told me to.

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* No wonder I have self-esteem issues to this day.

** No thanks in part to my brother, The Dork.

*** But when there are reality TV shows out there that foster such behavior, it’s amazing that the whole world isn’t all about the backstabbing and talking-behind-the-back

It’s that time of year again for me. College Football Saturdays, fresh apple cider and hot donuts, and fall TV season premieres. Oh, and knitting. For some reason, I tend to pick up the “sticks” (aka knitting needles) and a fresh “batch” of yarn around this time of the year.

This year, instead of sticks I’ve picked up the “hooker.”

Uh … I didn’t say A hooker … I said THE “hooker.” As in a crochet needle.

Geesh. Get your mind out of the gutter.

Crocheting always reminds me of my Grandma Rose. In the years that she lived with us, and for decades after, I can’t recall a time where she didn’t have her crochet needles and ball of yarn inside her bag. She’d pull it out at various times; many times just to keep her hands busy.

Grandma had told me that she picked up crocheting to help with her debilitating arthritis; that it helped loosen her joints, which I can clearly remember looking incredibly swollen and misshapen. While I believe that she took up the craft for that very reason, I also believe that she continued to do so because creating something was incredibly satisfying. (I can’t tell you how many the heirloom tablecloths she made for every one of her children and grandchildren!) That, and the repetitive activity of pulling yarn through slipknot after slipknot was especially soothing.

That’s the reason I’ve enjoyed knitting and crocheting. The simple notion that continuously “picking” or “hooking” or “throwing” yarn over needles to produce a piece of art is calming. It’s a way for me to relieve some stress and yet still feel fulfilled that I’ve actually made something out of a skein of yarn.

Yet, while I love to knit and crochet, I only do so with an end project in mind. Otherwise I’d be making waay too many cup cozies or pot holders than any one of my family and friends would ever need. (Yikes!) So with the recent news within our circle of family/friends, it should come to no surprise as to what kind of project I’m currently working on.

After five years of knitting/crocheting hats & booties or blankets for various family members or friends, you would think that I’d be able to forget about my own issues and focus on the project at hand. And many times I can … In fact doing such projects and keeping such a blog is a very personal form of therapy for me. But there are those moments in the midst of making such creations where my childless situation hits me square in the chest.

But then my thoughts somehow switch to the very good friend of mine; the one that taught me to knit. And I remember how lucky I am in other aspects of my life.

Or, like last Thursday on the bus ride home, I remember my Grandma Rose; who taught me the basics of crocheting years and years ago. I remember each piece she’s ever created especially for me. And how much they mean to me; now even more since her recent passing.

And I remember that what I’m currently making is meant to bring up these emotions. Because feeling such sadness reminds me the importance that Hubby and I had placed on trying to have our own child … and exactly how strong our love is to have survived everything we’ve gone through.

Just wanted to quickly share the video from Oprah’s season opening performance by the Black Eyed Peas. This was Frickin. Amazing. Just to see how they got close to 21,000 people to do this dance was amazing!

And now I’ve got this song playing over and over in my mind. BUT … I suppose if I had to have a song stuck in my head, this is a good one to have!

(To see the “official version” for better picture quality, click here!)

I used to think that the more “hits” I had on my blog a day signified how much of an impact I was making in the infertility world. I thought that the more people I “reached” through my writing, the more people would relate to my struggle.

Of course now that this blog is more that two years old, I know the real truth.

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Today Hubby and I hung out downtown after I got off work today. Oprah had conveniently closed down Michigan Avenue to celebrate her 24th season opener. And — even though I’d love to say Hubby and I went down there because we’re such “newbies” to the city — the truth is that we both saw attending this huge event as such a unique opportunity.

Because seriously … when would something like this ever happen if we were living in Detroit? (No … Superbowl XL does not count!)

I could totally see all the activities from my 21st floor Office Building!

I mean, really … who else, other than Oprah could get the City of Chicago to shut down the streets for the day? As a fellow co-worker, who’s Hubby works for the Police Dept said, “They don’t even shut down the streets for the funerals of fellow Police Officers or Firemen!”

Since the “show” was not being streamed live on TV, there were many takes between segments. The Black Eyed Peas would perform one song, be interviewed and then perform a second song; all with probably a nice 15 minute interlude between “scenes.” The same thing happened after Cris Angel performed and before Jennifer Hudson’s “band” set up for her performance.

Many times between segments, the crowd was able to hear what Oprah would be saying; a hazzard of the trade, since she was “mic”-ed the whole time. Not to mention the fact that she pretty much had cameras on her the entire time.

Those circumstances obviously made for a couple funny moments. Like the time Oprah was caught asking her make-up crew to apply more powder to her. Or when she mentioned out loud that it was a good thing she wore extra deodorant today.

It was in hearing her voice “live” (versus on the TV) that suddenly made Oprah “real” to me.  And actually seeing and hearing those “every day” type of comments / actions? Well, I guess that just confirmed to me that Oprah wasn’t just some “high up on a pedestal” type of person.

Too bad I couldn't get any closer!

Before today Oprah always seemed to represent an untouchable legend;  a person that could probably not do a thing wrong. A powerful person whose whose opinions and/or commentaries could influence mass audiences anywhere. A person, who … by just her voice alone, could certainly make an impact.

And today I also realized that Oprah was a person who, despite how incredibly “popular” a celebrity she is, appeared to be quite lonely. A person, who, as incredibly approachable as she seemed to be, appeared to “wish” that someone  — anyone — would approach her in between segments. Instead, the majority of the time she ended up sitting alone by the side of the stage. To the people surrounding her (whether her crew or even the audience), they most likely shied away from her so as not to  intrude her space.

Now if given an opportunity, I could speculate that Oprah would have loved to show her soft, compassionate and intimate side. And I say that only because during the course of the evening, I happened to witness two instances. One occasion involved Jennifer Hudson who, in her postpartum hormonal state, sought reassurance from Oprah that her performance was absolutely spectacular. (It was!) The other instance occurred when a fan, apparently close enough to talk to Oprah, mentioned to her that it was her birthday. And Oprah, with her response, mentioned that she recognized the birthday girl dancing during the one of the Black Eyed Peas songs.

In both those instances, I’m sure that each individual who received such attention from Oprah (as in “Oprah, the Legend”) was “touched” by such simple actions. And I hope that both individuals were humbled that, if approached or even met half way, Oprah would make any attempt to engage them into her personal world … at whatever level she felt comfortable.

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Okay, so what does Oprah have to do about blog writing and/or making an impact on the world? Well, let me share with you the revelation I had on the train-ride home tonite:

It doesn’t matter how many people I “reach” (or how many “hits” I get) on a daily basis … it’s simply the thought that I’ve somehow impacted someone somewhere down the line; whether it be a simple statement said or an observation made.

And that even though I don’t get the monstrous number of “hits” or “comments” that I would love to get … I am making a difference to that one person who is willing to understand me and “meet me half way.”

And now … check out the “footage” I shot from the show …
It’s the Black Eyed Peas performing their latest single, “Meet Me Halfway”

It’s too bad I had to work all day … otherwise I would have loved to be on the other side of this monitor!

My Dearest Hubby –

This is your silly wife ...

I can’t believe it’s been thirteen years since we walked down the aisle and promised everlasting love to each other. We have been through many ups and downs … especially these past few years … but we’ve stuck together like glue.

You are my Winter, Spring, and Summer. And you are my most favorite season of all … Autumn.

You are my colorful Fall leaves. You are my Apple Cider and Donuts. You’re my Football Saturdays. And thirteen years ago, under a beautiful golden-red Harvest Moon, we pledged our love to one another …

I couldn’t be more happier with our life together …

Have you ever seen a sight as beautiful
As that of the rain-soaked purple
Of the white birch in spring?

Have you ever felt more fresh or wonderful
Than on a warm fall night
Under a mackerel sky,
The smell of grapes on the wind?

Comical Breakfast with Hunny

Well I have known all these things
And the joys that they can bring
And I’ll share them all for a cup of coffee
And to wear your ring

Have you ever had the pleasure of watching
A quiet winters snow slowly gathering
Like simple moments adding up?

Have you ever satisfied a gut feeling
To follow a dry dirt road thats beckoning you
To the heart of a shimmering summers day?
.

Well I have known all these things
And the joys that they can bring
And I’ll share them all for a cup of coffee
And to wear your ring

Seriously? You still love me?!

And I don’t know how I survived those days
Before I held your hand
Well I never thought that I would be the one
To admit that the moon and the sun
Shine so much more brighter when
Seen through two pairs of eyes than
When seen through just one

The Love of My Life ...

Have you ever seen a sight as beautiful
As a face in a crowd of people
That lights up just for you?

Have you ever felt more fresh or wonderful
As when you wake
By the side of that boy or girl
Who has pledged their love to you?

Well I have known all these things
And the joys that they can bring
And now every morning there’s a cup of coffee
And I wear your ring

– “Anniversary Song” by Cowboy Junkies

So there’s also another thing that has been bothering me lately. One that also requires being password protected (PWP). Hence the second PWP post in a matter of one week.

For those that followed along from the previous PWP post, the password remains the same. For those that might be vaguely interested in reading it, please comment below and I’ll respond to you via email.

* Specifically meant for those socially- and hormonally-challenged tween- and teenagers who require just a leeeee-tle redirection during such challenging times …

1. With every positive action, there is a positive consequence. With every negative action, there is a negative consequence.
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2. It’s absolutely essential to treat other people with respect to achieve those positive consequences.
   .
3. If you’ve done something to upset or anger another person, it’s a sure sign you’ve been disrespectful. And that’s a negative consequence.
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4. If you don’t know exactly what you’ve done wrong, it never hurts to ask that person so you can understand what you did wrong.
   .
5. When asking “Why?” (as in “Why am I in trouble?”) in order to understand a potentially confusing situation, do not make it sound like a complaint. Instead approach it as a way to recognize that you’ve upset the other person. For example, “Help me understand why I hurt you?”
   .
6. Once you recognize what you’ve done to offend the other person, apologize.
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7. When apologizing, be very specific about what you’re apologizing about. And be honest. And mean it.
   .
8. After apologizing, make a promise to that person that you will not do whatever offending act you’ve done in the future. And never ever break that promise.
   .
9. Also after the apology, be on your absolute best behavior. Don’t complain when someone asks you do to something. Don’t sulk or pout. The more you show you’re making the effort to be good, the more respect you’ll gain … The more positive consequences will occur.
   .
10. Respecting other people will gain their trust and earn their respect in return.
    .
11. The more respect and trust you give and receive, the more privileges in life you’ll be granted.
    .
    And finally …
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12. Ultimately, earning the respect and trust from others will earn you life-long friendships; friends that would bend over backwards to help you out when you need them most.