I think this kid is going to give me a run for my money.

Well, we had another ultrasound this past Thursday, and the doctor's initial guess was confirmed. IT'S A GIRL! I'm super excited. I really thought she was a girl, but...you know. I love my OB, he cracks me up. He showed us the lines that indicate her...um...parts...and said that if she turned out to be a boy, he was retiring because he'd clearly lost his touch if that happened. I thought it was hilarious, but then I am fairly easily amused.

So she continues to be super active, which he again commented about. She barely held still during the ultrasound, and clearly doesn't like to be squished even a little bit, because she starts moving like crazy when my bladder is really full! It's like she's trying to tell me "Hey, Mom, I need some more room in here!"

I have to admit, even now that I feel her move sometimes, this still seems so surreal to me. I mean, we've been wanting to start our family, and we were trying for quite a while, but it's still hard to believe that it's actually HAPPENING. I'm doing everything I can to be ready for her when she comes, but it's so...disconcerting at times. Like, holy cow, I'm going to be responsible for someone who will be completely dependent on me. Am I ready for this? Are we ready for this? I know we're doing everything I can, but it's a very daunting task once you actually look at it. Fortunately I have Brett, and both of our parents are fantastic and will always be there to help us when we need it. But really...who would've thought a few years ago that I would be getting ready to be a mom? I couldn't have imagined it. I've done so much growing up the past few years it's almost difficult to recognize the person that I was. I'm glad of that, really. I didn't really like the person I was, and I'm so much happier now.

Wow, random, but she totally just kicked me. It makes me grin every time I feel her move.

Today was actually really fun. Mom called this morning because the girl that was supposed to help them was sick, and so I got to go down to help out with Heather. I haven't been involved in her morning routine for a long time, and so I was pretty pleasantly surprised that I didn't do anything stupid. Ha! Of course, I do stuff like turn patients all the time, but we don't dress our patients. I'm really glad Mom and Heather are patient with me while I'm getting back into the swing of things. I'm looking forward to being around them more often after the baby is born. At any rate, I actually did Heather's hair while Mom went grocery shopping, and got her all set up with her computer--not really a difficult task, but I've never actually blow-dried someone else's hair! Heck, I don't usually blow-dry my hair. I'm sure it wasn't like Heather usually has it, but I think I did pretty well, all things considered.

Mom and I got to chat once she got home from the store. I really love her, and I'm so glad we're friends now! I know I've mentioned it before, but seriously. She is such a fun person, and has so much advice to give (even if I choose not to take it). I love spending time down there, especially when Mom and I get the chance to catch up.

Well, I've gone on long enough, so I'll quit while I'm ahead.

Work, work, and more work....blech.

So, after 2 1/2 years working at the hospital, my manager FINALLY got me into the PCT class. Let me explain. I'll try to be brief.

At St. John's, nurse's aids aren't actually called nurse's aides. Of course, everyone has to have special names for it, right? Well, at St. John's there are two different levels of aides. The first is a PCA, or patient care associate, which is your basic tech who does all the bathing and feeding and cleaning up poo. Glamorous, right? :) Well, in the Burn Unit we do a lot more stuff, like dressing changes and wound debridement and lots of fun stuff like that. I love my job. So anyway, a PCT (patient care technician) can do more "advanced" things--tube feedings, wound care, sterile procedures (like some wound care requires), removal of foley catheters, some respiratory care like suctioning and other stuff, and phlebotomy.

So. When I was hired, I was told I'd be put through PCT training as soon as possible; however, clearly that's not how it happened. I was a little irked when two new PCAs got to go through the training right after their 90-day probationary period, when I'd already been waiting for 2 years. At any rate, I'm there now. I didn't realize until now how much "extra" stuff they have us do in the burn unit...I haven't actually learned anything NEW yet, but phlebotomy isn't until a week from Monday.

Still, it's kept me very busy. Class/clinicals are Mon-Fri, 7:30-4. We were running around all day today, which is actually sort of not true, because the instructor has to be there to watch us do whatever it is we're doing, and so if you're not the one or two people actually doing the work, you just....stand there. A PCA class and a bunch of nursing students are in house right now, so all the extra work we'd usually help with is just.... nonexistent. Kinda sucks.

Anyway, I got a prescription for the kind of Zofran that dissolves on your tongue...fabulous stuff. I'd been throwing up a lot over the past few days (three times Sunday, yippee), so I feel way better now.

Brett keeps asking me: 1) if it's his "turn" on the computer yet, and 2) if he can write one of my blog posts. Yikes. Scary thought....just kidding. He probably wouldn't do anything too terribly embarrassing. Although I did have a psycho pregnant chick moment on him just a little bit ago. I told him he could have the computer in a minute when I was done with my blog post. He teased me a little bit, and I totally freaked out on him. I told him he was ticking me off and...I don't really remember what else. It wasn't terribly mean, but...poor guy. I don't know how he puts up with me sometimes.