Friday, August 12, 2011

Dear Kate,

I had a dream last night that I was a Kindergarten teacher.  I had not prepared or anything, I just showed up at the school that morning.  I didn't even know my way around the school.  You and mom were there and I was embarrassed that I was so unprepared.  The kids kept showing up and I couldn't remember any of their names.  I felt all hazy and sleepy.  Oh, and I was naked.

Could it be more obvious that I'm worried about being unprepared for the Boards and being vulnerable as I start my new job?  Dreams like this may be easy to interpret, but do they need to be so weird??

Love,
Bora.

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

Dear Bora,

I need my back cracked and you are the only person in the world who a) won't think I'm weird for asking and b) who does it right. I don't trust anyone else, not even my husband, to kneel over me while I lay on my belly on the floor and then to push down on both sides of my spine with all of your weight as I breath out. It really is amazing that neither of us ever cracked a rib or a vertebrae in all our years of doing that to each other. I really hope that you haven't got all uppity with your medical education because I still expect you to perform this dangerous and still satisfying procedure next time I see you.

Love,
Kate

Saturday, June 4, 2011

Dear Kate,


Remember all the creepy old men that would hit on us back in the day when we worked at Ace Hardware?  Well, in healthcare, it's much worse.  I mean, sure, the pick-up lines might not ever be as well thought out as being handed a small bag of hardware accompanied by, "What is it? 5 cents a screw?"  But there is something so much more disturbing about being told what an attractive young lady you are right before you stick your finger in an old man's butt to check his prostate...


We wear gloves,
Bora.

Friday, June 3, 2011

Dear Kate, 


I couldn't write to you about this earlier because it took some time for it to become funny.  You know how I said the cicada plague had come to TN?  Well, my dogs viewed the disgusting onslaught as God's manna for dogs.  The bugs were "ripe for the picking" across the lawn as they climbed to the top of the grass to begin shedding their grotesque exoskeletons.  


Of course, cicadas are not a typical part of the domestic dog's diet - but this did not stop my dogs from frolicking through the yard eating the insects like popcorn. Sure I found this gross but even when it gave them gas I didn't think much of it.  Until they started getting diarrhea.  


Thank goodness Chris was home for the summer so he could let them out 20x a day.  But Chris was planning to visit his parents... and Ender still had diarrhea.  


Well, given Ender's neurotic personality, I told Chris not to put him in his crate (because he would FREAK OUT if he pooped in his crate and had to stay in there), but to put him in the kitchen and block it off when he left for GA.  


After a 12 hour work day, what did I find when I got home?  A messy kitchen?  No.  I was greeted by 2 dogs at the front door and the most revolting smell you can imagine x 10 (yes, even worse than when the fridge stopped working while we were on vacation for 2 weeks).  


Ender had apparently panicked after realizing that he was going to poop in our house and jumped over the TWO gates that Chris had put up.  He had then wandered through the entire house (minus closed bedroom, thank the Lord) pooping and panicking.  There was poo on the floor, poo on my books, poo in the tub!  Yes, IN THE TUB!  And worst of all, poo all over the couch.  


After crying, calling Chris to scream at his voicemail, and putting both dogs outside (where I'm sure they feasted on more cicadas), I began cleaning everything with bleach water.  Thank goodness for hardwood floors!  I had to open all the windows and turn on every fan just to keep from gagging.  


I quickly realized that the couch was un-salvageable.  So I pushed and shoved it out the door.  I'm sure my neighbors thought Chris and I were splitting up.  He leaves and doesn't return and now I'm throwing things out into the yard at 9 o' clock at night...  


I finally got everything clean by 11:30.  Then I gave Ender some Immodium and collapsed into bed.  On a side note, despite the fact that it rained every day for the next 4 or 5 days (soaking the poo ever deeper into the fabric), some frat boys came and hauled it off to become the newest piece of disgusting furniture in their house.  


Love, 
Bora.

Monday, May 23, 2011

Dear Bora,

I am thinking of you as a scratch the poison ivy in my ankles. Thankfully, my body's reaction to poison ivy is much milder than yours. I have 3 tiny patches, each just a bit larger than a mosquito bite. You, on the other hand, probably got poison ivy all over your face just because you read the word "poison ivy." As a child, I always assumed that I was just more careful than you were since I never got it. Now I know that I just have superior genetics. I can take the poison ivy filled short cut from school to my house every afternoon and barely get itchy. Didn't you recently have poison ivy (on your face) just because your dogs walked through it? Clearly this is just another example of why your childhood jealousy of me was totally justified.

Love,
Kate

Saturday, May 21, 2011

Dear Bora,

I am super impressed with your homemade cloth diapers! I now know what I'm going to do with those old flannel sheets Mom gave me and how I'll be spending a good part of my summer. Sure, my husband will find it totally creepy that I'm going to spend hours making cloth diapers for children we don't have yet, but hey, what do I care? I want to be the kind of person who sews her own clothes, bakes her own bread, hangs out her laundry on the clothesline, grows her own vegetables... and I do all of those, just not all of the time. What can I say? I'm a work in progress. My new hippie project: chickens. A neighbor and I are building a chicken tractor this summer. (If you don't know what that is, here's a link). I still find chickens terrifying (beaks and claws everywhere!) but on the other hand, I find the idea of being a person who can say, "I make this quiche with eggs from my chickens" irresistible. Well, I need to go tend my garden and put another load of clothes out on the line. (See? Isn't it wonderful to be a person who says those things?)

Love,
Kate

Friday, May 20, 2011

Dear Kate,


I've been feeling especially Suzy Homemaker lately.  As a favor to you, I've started making cloth diapers for your (as-of-yet-unplanned) unborn children.  I know you're a hippie and you won't want to ruin the environment with disposable diapers that take 500 years to decompose or something.  I also know that my craftiness comes in spurts, so I should really get going on these.  Here are pictures of the first 2.  I made 1 blue and 1 pink.  Do you think it was a sign from God that these were the only flannel pillow cases I could find at Goodwill to use for this?  Perhaps there are twins in your future....


I can be a hippie too,
Bora.


My first one!

Just picture poo in this pretty diaper!

The little pockets are so you can turn the velcro in on itself when you wash them.

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Dear Kate,

Last night when we spoke I was secretly laughing at your misfortune with all those nasty cicadas.  Giant bugs are not my thing.  I laughed all too soon though, as they arrived here last night.  So while yours are dying, ours are just emerging.  The noise hasn't even begun yet as their bodies haven't hardened enough yet.  

I think I'm going to spend the next 4-5 weeks inside.

Love,
Bora.

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

Dear Bora,

I didn't go to the graduation ceremony for my masters, but that was mostly because the program was 90% online. The only reason I was even tempted to go was to get that sweet hood. I feel like they should have mailed it to my with my diploma. I mean, where else do you get a master's hood? It's not like they sell them at Wal-Mart. And if they did, it would totally devalue them because I'm pretty sure everyone would be sporting one of those velvet trimmed hood like the earned it. I earned the right to wear that hood to the grocery store and the beach. How else am I going to get the respect that a master deserves. You heard me right. Once you have a master, you should be called "Master." Just like people with doctorates get to be called "Doctor." My degree says I've mastered education, so I make everyone call me Master Katie (my students call me Master B, which subsequently, is my rapper name). I say all of this to emphasize my point: get that hood. Suffer whatever is neccessary to be given that covetous hood and then wear it often as a testiment to your master-ship.

Love,
Master Kate

Saturday, April 30, 2011

Dear Kate,


While I don't technically graduate until August, we hold our hooding ceremony in May to coincide with the University's regular graduation.  I don't have to walk at the standard graduation (thank goodness), but I have been told, rather strictly I might add, that everyone is expected to attend the hooding ceremony.


I think it's interesting that they first tell us how special and memorable the whole thing will be - how it'll be an honor to have our hood placed around our necks by the program director and clinical director.  But then they have to threaten us to attend.


Maybe I'm not the only one who is excited about getting my Master's degree but not excited about "sharing" it with two of my least favorite people?


Still debating attending,
Bora.

Friday, April 29, 2011

Dear Bora,

It's so funny you should mention this because I have a pregnant friend who was talking about placenta pills just the other day. Apparently, as long as you ask for your placenta before the birth, you can take your placenta home, dry it in your oven, shred it in your food processor, and then put it into pill containers you can purchase over the internet. You know, for those modern ladies who think eating your placenta in a stew might be gross. Me though, I'm going to eat it raw- maybe make it into a smoothie. I feel like the some of the hormones and nutrients might be lost in the cooking process. I just thought I should let you know so you'll be prepared when you get your invitation to my back-yard baby-pool birthing-extravaganza.

Love,
Kate

PS: The prefered term these days is "socially progressive environmentally conscious nonconformist"

Thursday, April 28, 2011

Dear Kate,

As you know, I'm on my Pediatric Rotation right now.  I've been in the nursery and NICU for the past few weeks so my life has been all "babies, babies, babies." Yesterday I was talking to the Neonatologist when she, seemingly randomly, brought up the fact that humans are the only mammals that do not eat the placenta.  She then mentioned having studied a book back in the '80s about natural childbirth, breast-feeding, and eating the placenta as placenta stew.  I know you once joked about having your baby at home in one of those kiddy pools so I thought I'd look up the recipe for you just in case you decide to be one of those white granola chicks.

Love, 
Bora.

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Dear Bora,

Clearly this woman just needed you to give her a few more examples of our family's incredible sense of humor concerning medical matters. Did you tell her about how when you had mono I drew skulls and crossbones on your water bottles? Or how you threatened to spit on me with your poisonous mono-saliva? What about when I had my wisdom teeth taken out and you and Mom used one of her bras as an icepack (and then took pictures)? Certainly sharing a few of those crazy stories we used to make up about Brian's chest cath scar would convince her of the superior nature of our family jokes. Please let me know her response after your next encounter. I'm curious to know whether she deeply apologizes for not originally appreciating our comic genius or if she grovels at your feet and begs to be a part of our hilarious family.

Love,
Kate
Dear Kate,

I was telling someone about how you joke that you are going to go blind one day when to get hit in the face by a misthrown football that causes your retina to detach. The nurse didn't seem to think that this was funny. So I tried to explain our sense of humor by explaining how when we thought I might have multiple sclerosis that mom told me she'd make me a really nice afghan to put over my invalid legs and you told me to get a cool backpack for my wheelchair so you wouldn't have to carry stuff anymore.

Apparently this explanation did not help.

I love our humor,
Bora.

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Dear Kate,

Oooh, that's a hard one.  Plus, you stole the most delicious motherly advice we've been given.  Apple crisp is a delectable part of a nutritional breakfast (and if you choose to add a scoop of ice cream, you can remember that it's dairy just like milk).

Hmmm... I'd have to say that I am most thankful for her advice on comebacks.  As you know, the extent of my comeback skills is limited to crying and saying, "Oh yeah?  Well, you're - you're a meany-head."

While I rarely used any of the comebacks that mom has suggested, she certainly helped with catharsis.  She gave me the words I was lacking to get some of that anger out and off my chest.  Honestly, imagining saying, "Thank you.  Thank you for being such a great example of what I hope never to be" to my least favorite professor ever is far more rewarding than actually saying it.  

Especially because it would probably really come out more like, "Thankyou for being... a show of what be Ihopenot... meany-head."

Love,
Bora.
Dear Bora, As I sit here eating my mid-morning snack of oatmeal raisin cookies, I am thankful for our mother, who taught us that anything with oatmeal or fruit in it is a suitable breakfast item. What motherly advice are you most thankful for today? Love, Kate

Monday, April 4, 2011

Dear Kate,


I was going to reply that yes, it is weird that you have an opinion about High School Musical, but then I realized that I was only going to say that because I hate that movie (which, by the way, is an opinion about that movie). So in this case, we are both weird, but I just happen to be right and weird (which is slightly better than wrong and weird like you).


Love,
Bora.

Sunday, April 3, 2011

Dear Bora,

Did you ever notice how much more amazing the first High School Musical movie is than the sequels? Is it weird that I'm 27 years old and have an opinion on this?

Love,
Kate

Sunday, March 6, 2011

Dear Bora,

I've decided something huge: you need to be a teacher. I know, I know, you're just about finish that PA school thing, but I have a really good reason. You know how we both thrive on constant praise? Well, you can get it all the time as a teacher. No, not from those ungrateful little brats we call students. From the other teachers! Think about it. Teachers spew forth constant praise all day long to the students and it's a proven fact that they cannot turn off their "teacher voice" when around adults (remember that time I told that grown man in line in front of me at Wal-Mart to spit out his gum?). That over-the-top praise is often bestowed upon fellow teachers for the smallest thing. For example, "Thank you so much for making that copy for me. You are so amazing. I don't know what I'd do without you." Yes, it's totally worth the lousy pay-check and the parents who say things like, "I don't call you when she doesn't do the dishes, so why are you calling me when she doesn't do her homework." Anyway, think about it.

Love,
Kate

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Dear Kate,

Sorry I was unable to get the photo of the tramp stamp - it was a symbol-ish sun, BT-dub. 


I have seen a lot of kids this rotation.  It makes me want to start a family and never have children all at the same time.  Some kids are sweet.  Some kids are rotten.  Some parents are loving and some let their kids get away with anything.  I had to chase a pediatric patient OUT of the clinic and towards the street to catch her.  Mom says, "Silly girl" when I bring her back in over my shoulder.  WHAT?!  Silly?!  Rotten and deserving of some discipline if you ask me.


Also, I've seen some weird names.  For example:  Messiah, Kalel, Seven, and 2 brothers both named Kenneth.


Of course, Chris was excited to see a Kalel (Superman's Kryptonian name) because he's still trying to convince me to name our first born son that.  Um, no.


Love,
Bora.

Monday, February 21, 2011

Dear Bora,

I just have 2 questions for you: 1) Is it tribal or butterfly and 2) Do you even have to ask?

Love,
Kate
Dear Kate,

My newest preceptor has a... how do you say... "tramp stamp"?  Dare me to try to get a picture?  :)

Love,
Bora.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Dear Bora,

I heard this amazing episode of Radiolab the other day. It was about memory and how because of how memory forms, the more often you remember something, the less "true" it becomes. And I realized, all those really great stories that you and I tell, those are probably some of the most untrue, faulty memories we have. But you know what? I think I like them like that. It's all about the feeling of the story anyway, right?

Love,
Kate

Saturday, February 5, 2011

Dear Kate,

What would you say if I told you that I bought an iPhone so that I could check your blog and update this one while I'm living in the boonies in T minus 7 days?

Love,
Bora.

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Dear Bora,

I don't think you should be afraid- as long as you don't mind your life story being made into a made-for-TV movie about a young attractive PA student who may or may not have survived being the victim of a serial killer. I'm guessing this is just another one of your ploys for attention. Please don't put yourself in dangerous situations just because the blog isn't taking off like we expected. In order to minimize your chances of becoming yet another lock of hair in some murderer's collection, please invest in baseball bat or maybe a blowtorch. Lifetime prefers survival stories, anyway.

Love,
Kate
Dear Kate,

My next rotation is in rural North Carolina.  I couldn't find any cousin's classmate's parents to put me up, so I had to find housing on Craigslist.  The unfurnished "cottage" that I'm renting apparently used to be an old country store.  It's in the middle of nowhere.  Do you think I need to be scared?

Love,
Bora.

Monday, January 31, 2011

Dear Kate,

I say that no matter how easy it was, you're still a computer guru in her mind, so play it up.  I mean, I don't see why you shouldn't capitalize on this.  Start listing your mad computer skillz on your resume.  Bill the school your extra hours as "IT professional."  Hold a lecture series for the teachers entitled, "Advanced Computer Skillz: Catching up with the First Graders" - covering topics such as cut and paste (using both right-click and control-C methods), desktop art, and how to delete the internet browsing history.

Live it up,
Bora.
Dear Bora,

The principal asked me to "get rid of the filth" on a certain lab computer. It seems a middle school student spent a little too much time in Paint and then decided to share his rather obscene creation by setting it as the desktop background. Should I tell her that I was able to get rid of it in about 30 seconds or should I let her continue to believe that I am some sort of computer guru? Thanks for being my moral compass in these uncertain technologically advanced times.

Love,
Kate

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Dear Kate,

It's not that I don't love you, it's that I was too busy looking up inner ear twitch.  You know how that goes.  One Wikipedia site leads to another.

And to answer your question: Yes and no.  Your inner ear cannot twitch, but your middle ear can.  

Also, by way of the Wikipedia chain of knowledge:  The set of Jewish dietary laws is called Kashrut.  Just in case you needed to know...

Love,
Bora.
Dear Bora,

I've decided if you don't post soon, it's because you don't love me anymore. You have 48 hours before I disown you.

Love,
Katie

Thursday, January 20, 2011

Dear Bora,

As you know, I have muscle spasms when I'm stressed- eye twitches, hiccups, etc. Is it possible to have such a twitch in my inner ear?

Love,
Kate

Monday, January 17, 2011

Dear Kate,

Have you found the socks yet?  heh heh

Love,
Bora.

Sunday, January 16, 2011

Dear Kate,

Is it possible that you could essentially kill your own arm in your sleep by cutting off the blood supply?  Yes.

And you know you can believe me because I've never lied to you just to freak you out before.  Well, except for that one time when I said I could see angels and you thought I was going to die...

Love,
Bora.
Dear Bora,

I woke up at about 3 AM and my entire left arm, from shoulder to fingertips, was numb. So numb I couldn't feel it at all- I couldn't even move it! It took about 5 minutes of moving it around (using my other hand) before I could move my fingers on their own. Is it possible that one morning I'll wake up and it'll be beyond saving? Could I have to have my arm amputated just because I slept on it funny? I must know.

Love,
Kate

Friday, January 14, 2011

Dear Kate,

I remember that too!  Both going door-to-door and going to the Girl Scout store.  Just goes to show you how selfish I must be though because I only remember the pewter bear - not what you got.  Or that you were even there.

I might still have that pewter bear in my jewelry box...

Love (even when I don't remember you),
Bora.
Dear Bora,

I just had a student ask me to buy Girl Scout cookies. Do you remember walking through the snow, going door-to-door in our neighborhood in Illinois selling cookies? The other memory I always recall this time of year is you and I going "shopping" at the Girl Scout store. We were able to pick out certian prizes based on how many cookies we sold. I vividly remember picking out a stuffed bear (black with a brown nose?) and watching you pick out a pewter bear. Why do I remember that little pewter bear (I can picture it in detail) but I can't remember to take my allergy shot every week?

Love,
Katie

Sunday, January 9, 2011

Dear Bora,

I'm an adult now so I can buy my own gum AND string cheese.

Love,
Kate

PS- I know how much you love it (and always have) when I point out how I'm so much more mature than you. You know because I'm two and a half years and one day older than you.
Dear Kate,

Were you jealous?  Were ya'?  Cause I got gum and you didn't??

HA!  It was just string cheese!!  Remember??

Love,
Bora.

Saturday, January 8, 2011

Dear Kate,

Look what I got! [smack, smack]


{opens mouth wide}

Mom gave it to me!

Love,
Bora.

Friday, January 7, 2011

Dear Bora,

Is 9:55 AM too early to eat candy? Keep in mind a) it's chocolate and b) I've been up since 6:45.

Love,
Kate
Dear Kate,

It just seemed like one of those unspoken requests.  Like the time I knew you wanted me to tell that boy that you liked him.

Love,
Bora.

Thursday, January 6, 2011

Dear Bora,

Maybe if you had been injured in some sort of snow related accident over Christmas break, you wouldn't have to do this rotation at all. If you had let me know, I'm sure we could have arranged it.

Love,
Kate

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Dear Kate,

I would rant about how your slacking on the blog has run all of our readers off but then I'd have to admit my own fault - given that I haven't posted either.

Christmas vacation, while enjoyable, was less exciting once you left.  And of course, once home I started right back into the swing of PA school with my 4th (of 8) rotation.

I wasn't that excited about this one because it's Surgery, but when I got to work on Monday, I found out that the surgeon tore his quadriceps skiing in Oregon.  So for the first 2 weeks of my surgery rotation I'll be working with his non-surgical orthopedist partner.

Figure that one out,
Bora.
Dear Bora,

Sorry I've been such a blogging slacker. Christmas break was so crazy (what with the 3 times I pushed cars or 10 times I carried boxes and bags more than a quarter of a mile uphill in the snow) it took me a few days to recover. I feel like I could easily spend a whole day doing nothing but laying on the couch in my PJs eating popcorn and Skittles. And maybe a year ago I would have done just that, but I don't think I can call myself a responsible parent if I do something I would never allow our 12 year old foster son to do. Though maybe on Saturday when he's away for the weekend...

Love,
Kate