Pumpkin Spice Latte is Back!!

That sentence is what tells most NYers that the season has changed. Yup. Pumpkin Spice Latte. Soon it will be the Gingerbread Latte (indicating we should start behaving our selves because Santa is checking his list). Time flies and soon we will start all over with the iced lattes again (summer - you get it).

Yes, time flies. Obviously I haven't been on this thing is quite sometime, but life was just whizzing along. Things happened. I moved in with the boy. I got a new job. I quite the new job and in 2 weeks I'll be starting a newer job. Details are pointless and I hate to play catch-up. So here we are in the season of Pumpkin Spice Lattes and knee-high boots. Oh and hats! Love those.

OK some catch-up I suppose would make sense. In May, the Boy and I officially moved in together. To a much bigger apartment than my suffocating studio. He even has his own room in which to keep his Playstation and other Boy things. It's no longer Manhattan, but it's a 10 minute train ride away and it's cute. He loves to cook (which is a step-up from Lean Cusine every night and Slim Fast bars every day) and it's been a surprisingly smooth transition. Even the dog seems happy. Oh - and he's the only straight boyfriend in NY that I know of who suggests we go to the Christmas Tree Shops to look for "apartment things". I love it.

My job - another longish story. I left the ER in search of bigger and better and became a nurse manager. I won't get into all the glitz and glamor of my role. Let's just say - I'll take a cracked chest, multiple trauma any day over sitting at a computer doing chart reviews. So I decided to quit. Some say bold, I say obvious. And in 2 weeks time, I will be working as a nurse again in the Neonatal ICU. Of course I will throw in a few OT ER shifts for fun because I love drunks and traumas.

In world news - The American Girl Doll Company has come out with a limited edition Homeless Girl Doll. Yes. Homeless. Her name is Gwen and she lives in a van with her mom. I kid you not - I read it in the news. They even went as far as to interview a homeless person who said she likes the representation.

WTF? My 17 year old cousin already doesn't want to go to college. Imagine if she had Homeless Gwen growing up. She'd be ditching her room for a used van down in Far Rockaway.

Anyway, I think that's enough catching up for today. I'm going to go drink my Pumpkin Spice Latte now.

Click Here for Gwen - the Homeless American Girl. Did I mention she cost 95 dollars??http://jezebel.com/5367098/the-newest-american-girl-doll-has-a-secret

Makes you think....

I was just taking my dog for her afternoon walk before I have to go to work and I recognized a woman on the street.

She was the new mother of a baby who was a patient of mine a few weeks ago.  I remember it so vividly because her brand new baby tragically died, no real cause of death found.  It hit us all very hard in the ER.  Most of the staff that morning left in tears.  The hardest part was the sobbing of the mom when it all ended.

It surprised me a bit to see her today.  She was walking along on the street.  Seemingly enjoying the same beautiful weather as everyone else.  I guess I was surprised because, though we see people at the height of their illness or sadness in the ER, there is no follow up.  Had I not see her on the street, continuing to exist, she would forever be etched in my mind as the weeping, tragic-stricken woman of that night in the ER.  I forget that people have to go back to their lives.  

I had to think about myself.  God forbid, had that happened to me, I'm not sure if I would be walking around, just a few short weeks later.  I looked at her outfit, expecting to see mismatched and carelessness, but it was put together well.  I looked at her hair - does she have the heart to even touch it in the morning?  It looked normal.  Everything about her was normal. She even wore make-up.  And then it made me think about the hundreds of people we see every single day on the streets of NYC (or whatever town).  They all have a story.  At any given moment someone may be dealing with a heavy heart full of pain.  But they get dressed and wear make-up and do their hair.  And we have no idea.

It made me feel silly for the times I moan about my bad day.  And all the times I wished for rain, simply to justify staying in bed and moping about some nonsense or another.  It made all the times I just got out of bed, put on some mascara and dealt with it more justified.  Because nothing is going to stop the calender.  Even when you wish it could.  Even when you think "why me?  Why can't the world just stop and see what I've been through?"

I said a small prayer for her.  That she's as calm on the inside as she looked on the outside.  And then I realized "Life goes on" isn't just a cliche or a Beatles song.  It's kind of true.