Goody Good Good.

Me and some of my volunteer
peeps from my clinic days

The Lighthouse basically restores my faith in humanity on a weekly basis. It's not actually that dramatic - I've pretty much always believed that people are good and want to do good but sometimes act like little shits. But working at the LH really does give me almost daily reminders about the best in humanity. I might still be in the honeymoon phase of this place, but I don't think so. I've been here over a year and I actually started out hating it. Most job satisfaction statistics follow along a bell curve: I love my job! --> I hate my job! --> I accept there are things about my job I love and hate. My job satisfaction curve went: hate, what the hell is this, not so much hate, there are some good things here, maybe I want to stay, I like my job. All the while knowing that there are things I love and don't love about what I do. Love? Patients. Coworkers. Potlucks. Hate? Patients, politics, and outcome measurements.

But this is who I see:

Audiologists. Not all of them are great. Some are really snooty and think they deliver gold-plated audiograms. But most are like Suzanne. She is one of our metro Atlanta audiologists and works with this patient who apparently perspires heavily (and that ruins the patient's aids). Suzanne has seen this woman for years and replaces parts and cleans and adjusts her aids for free whenever she needs it. The problem is the sweat (yeah, there are also really gross parts to my job. Like sweat and ear wax and old donated hearing aids). And so she calls to ask if there is any more permanent solution for this woman. So I call the manufacturer and ask and put those two in touch and Suzanne helps this woman a little bit more. And then there are the audiologists (and hearing dispensers) who call on behalf of their patients to check statuses, to coordinate application pieces and payment requests, who coordinate translators and open up their practice one more day each week to see LH patients, who put up with really difficult people for who knows why. Maybe it's because they have a contract. But they don't really get paid so maybe it's because they've committed to the LH. But they can break their contract whenever they want so...maybe it's because they actually care. And even if they don't, they are still helping.

Patients. Some are bitchy little snits, but the majority are just good people who need help paying for ridiculously marked up products. The thank you cards and notes from these patients make me want to cry, not out of sentimentality but because this dear man or woman has gotten back that part of his/her life again. Even on the vision side of things. One came back in yesterday with her husband (her name is Shontae - and that's not a HIPAA violation because I have no idea how to spell her name and probably have it incorrect). I ran downstairs when I heard she was here and got huge hugs and smiles and we got to catch up. She's working part time now (she was applying for jobs when we first met) and her husband, who was severely burned in an accident, is doing so much better now. That's the ultimate goal for all of this - increased independence and quality of life. And then there are my deaf oldies who call and just need someone to be on their side through all of this confusing process. I actually like to get the bitchy ones on the phone because it helps even out the sweetness of the other 92%.

Patient families. Some are terrible and won't help their family member, either by providing information or helping fill out the application. And some are freaking annoying and think their family member is the only person in Georgia (and probably the world) who is on a fixed income and needs help. But some are the best advocates for their mom or dad or aunt or uncle or grandparent that I've ever seen. When they get annoying with their persistent phone calls, I try to remember that they are doing it because they love their person. I hope I will be just as annoying for the people I love. I hope someone will be just as annoying for me.

Adventures #6: This party just took a turn...for the douche

One of the side effects of working with all women (essentially) is bonding through sharing news about our lives and the lives of the others (yes, this could also be called gossip). Some of it isn't so nice ("oh my gosh, you could see her underwear THROUGH HER DRESS"), but most of it is just sharing the happenings of our lives. Which is why my excursion into the realm of online dating is no secret. It's okay, really; I think it's funny to get everyone's perspective and to hear their own tales of awkward dates. It's even more okay because my boss is also female and wants the details. Which is how the following conversation happened:

Boss: Ooo, so what ever happened with that guy?

Me: Oh. He turned out to be kind of a douche.

Boss: Really?? What happened?

Me: I'm not sure, but he ultimately seemed only interested in talking about being physical. Not so much about "how was your day?" or "what do you do?" I mean, physical stuff is fine and good but I need dinner and a conversation first, you know?

Boss (mumbles something about men only thinking with their penises): "I'm convinced that only 15% of men are actually good men. You know? Like actually good men. I think I married one, but I definitely haven't dated them. Jim, did your daughters marry in the 15%?"

Jim (the part time finance guy who happened to walk around the corner at that moment. Jim has 3 married daughters): Nope. I don't even think they think did.

Me: Yeah, 15% might be a little high.

In this uphill part of life's journey, the party certainly has taken a turn for the douche. At first it was the perfect party; now there's just a lot of Ed Hardy. Seriously. In recent years of counseling I've realized that I've basically held the belief that men are stupid ass hats who care nothing about anyone but themselves (which seems to be all that is expected of them). But I think my boss may have been on to something. I know men in the 15% - my male friends, some family members, etc - and I have hope that every man can be in that 15%. How do we define good, though? Is it relative? Subjective? I'm attracted to humor and intelligence, but I don't think that makes someone good. I think goodness in part is humility and honesty and caring about other people; it's listening and remembering what someone says. It's kindness and generosity and fidelity. So yeah, if that's my definition, then there really are probably only about 15%. I don't know what the % would be for women - probably not much higher, to be honest - but I'm not dating women so I'm not worried with that statistic.

So perhaps this is the breakdown: if 15% are good, 30% are probably decent (they might not care, but they won't steal your purse and probably won't let someone else steal it), 20% are average (they don't care and they won't stop someone from stealing your purse), and the last 35% are just douche bags.

Which leads to my shout out to Sue Lundeen for saying "douche" at the baby shower today when she asked about Old Gregg. You're my favorite, Sue-Sue.

A Very Happy Birthday ... #28isNotTheNew18

The alternate title was "Anna + Alcohol = Diet Coke for Life." But though I am seriously considering imposing a 2 drink limit on the rest of my life, I did have a happy birthday. I'm not a big birthday person when it comes to celebrating my own but I do enjoy spending time with people I love, so any excuse for that is a good one. The day started with an early morning nap from 6-8am after taking my roomie to the airport at 530. I didn't set an alarm because I wasn't worried about getting into work on time because, well, I just wasn't. The work day was fairly uneventful and when my coworkers found out it was my birthday, I was summarily directed to leave the office and enjoy the day. So I did (a few hours later) and went for a nice run/walk in a swanky neighborhood in Brookhaven. I can't imagine having a house as big as those, but to show that everyone is subject to the laws of nature I submit this picture:

Inflatable Halloween decoration down.

I also did the requisite personal reflection. I always get a little introspective around holidays and birthdays and this year was no different. I realized I've done things I never imagined doing, been through things I could never have expected to go through, and grown in ways I never thought I could have. I blame most of this on being an adult. Being an adult can really suck sometimes, but I also think I've become more self aware and able to act in the moment (and own my actions). There is some good in having a fully formed brain. Anyhow, I got this from my niece - along with a hand "written" card, a non-objective drawing of a tree, and a tie-dye painting collection of her handprints - so at least I still get to be a kid at night:

I was thinking I needed a night light.

I facetimed with my bff and bbf, which always makes me happy. I love seeing their faces but it would be really nice to be closer. Or at least be able to Apparate. That would be really helpful. Then I took two bottles of Riesling with me to my friendy's house and had chili with most of my Atlanta family. And drank too much of the Riesling, which was fun until the room wouldn't stop spinning. Hence the 2 drink limit. But I woke up in a warm bed with Advil and water on the nightstand:

Seriously.

Yellow Straws

I wish the pack of straws was all yellow. Yellow isn't my favorite color overall, but it is definitely my favorite colored straw. It's calming, not overstimulating; peaceful and joyful...the perfect color for a striped bendy straw. The other ones are party straws and I just want a nice end-of-the-day straw.

I also want to post this video. After haranguing sideline reporting, this is me being part of the solution. If sideline reporting goes in this direction, I think it will be more enjoyable for the rest of us.

New bed frame. Now I don't hit
my head on the wall
nearly as much.

But I actually want to write about my bed. I love it. All of it. So very much. It's my spot. Like Huck and Emmers have their bed, Bella has the bay window, and Colby lays on top of you wherever you are - I have my bed. That is, I have a queen bed frame and a full mattress. It's basically the best of both worlds right now. I'm not ready to get rid of my mattress and sheets and down (alternative) comforter. I have an emotional attachment to them that I'm not ready to let go of yet. I've only had them for 4 years but we've been through a lot together: laughter, tears, short nights, long naps...essentially, seminary. But I also want a queen mattress in the future so I bought the queen bed frame in preparation. I know I will bond with the new mattress and its new sheets - probably pretty quickly if anyone knows how much I love to snuggle in bed. It's just the getting to that point that's the problem. I've had a lot of life happen in the past 4 years and this bed has been my safe haven. Plus, I roll around like a 2 year old - I hit at least 3 of the 4 corners of the bed most nights - and my mattress is the perfect size for that. For a visual, here's an almost 2 year old who does the same thing...

Bug sleeps like me,
though she's much cuter. And I
don't wear a diaper.

Starting to roll around.

This is me about halfway through the night.
And usually how I wake up. 

So I don't see any reason to rush a new mattress (especially since they're ridic expensive). But I am preparing myself for the future...albeit in baby steps.