Asthma: Ventilation Or Perfusion Problem

"Writer's block,

days like today are so very hard, having the words but now knowing how to say them, not knowing how to make them into coherent sentences, not knowing the reasons why or how”

(via scribble-scribbles ) (via ilovereadingandwriting )

What Kind Of Phone Does Andy Sixx Have

Grazie per...

Thanks for yesterday, today and tomorrow.

Thanks to Maia,

small kitten joined our family.

Thanks for the light that shines in the eyes of Alexander

and the tenderness of his smile. Thanks to Valerio

that these days puts a strain on my patience.

Thanks for the confidences of a friend.

Thanks for Giancarlo.

And much more.

Thanks.

Inescudna E Nadinejensen

this moment

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Mi sa che questa ve la devo spiegare...

I write this post (looong post, sorry) especially considering that you have your left a trace in my previous post. Thank you, really, I did not think ... I did not want anyone to grieve ... I'm embarrassed. Professional nurse and are performing services in a neonatal intensive care units in Rome. But this is not my passion is just my great compromise. A

20'anni I succumbed to the insistence of a father who for years has done nothing but ask me to do the course as a nurse. I did not want. I wanted to do something else.

boredom, because I had nothing else to do in the end I tried. Rationally speaking I could pretty well: do not faint at the sight of needles, blood does not bother me that much, I had no problems with dirty diapers. I liked, no I did not like, no passion or phrases "will become the nurse best in the world!" I had nothing else to do, that's all. In fact, over the course close the diploma in a drawer and I dedicate myself to something else.

My desire for independence, the head, rationality, lead me to choose to retrace my steps, "ok, I'll do the nurse and this will be my great compromise of life." And so a bit 'here before and a bit' after landing there in the neonatology department of the hospital there. "Just as long as I go, "I repeated," all in all it's nice to keep the berries from all of these babies ... "Come early in the vortex and the time passes. Two desired pregnancies one after the other they keep me away for almost 4 years. The return to work is devastating. I want a wife and mother! I lose what little motivation I have and more new service requirements in the neonatal intensive catapult me: total rejection. The emergency paralyzes me, not I know what I do, I feel a burden to her colleagues: turning the area into a monster fierce criticism from which to escape. cowardly, defeated by my own fears, I can not go back in neonatal critical but the monster is always within me, lying in wait. Then the collapse. First panic attacks, anxiety and insomnia after, a summer outside of the profession with the dismissal letter in the drawer. Thankfully never sent ... I ask for help from a specialist and together we make the point. Girl is time to return and face the monster ... but with my time. And so it happens. The first 'in October last year I choose to return to service. The first 'in October of this year I officially assigned to the section of neonatal intensive care. Flanked by a fellow tutor. I still tremble? Of course I tremble every time he crosses the threshold, an offering every time I open the incubator, each time a parent comes and asks you not to mention "as it is today, will do it?". I tremble for any alarm, for each drug to be prepared for any paper work to be completed. For every breath I do not remember how to be mounted. I tremble for any emergency that we face. Only now I do not shoot back. Not anymore. My monster is turning into a ... "Mostrilli. Companion of a new journey whose destination is not established. My great compromise, not my passion, not an act of admirable courage, just a gift. Unexpected. If I believed in God would say it is a grace received, if I were a fatalist would say that is my destiny. I do not know what it is. It is certain that at this time professionally speaking I could not be anywhere else I would not be me. Then tomorrow, who knows, the dismissal letter is still in the drawer.

Perciò, ricapitolando, non sono così coraggiosa o ammirevole per quello che faccio...

Mi sento un po' come Trilli che desiderava essere altro a dispetto del suo personale talento ( se non avete visto il film andatelo a vedere). Forse siamo in tanti come lei. L'unica differenza e che lei è il suo talento, senza possibilità di altra scelta. Noi scegliamo di poter essere il nostro talento e il nostro compromesso e fare in modo che l'uno alimenti l'altro, piano piano, passo passo.

Vi ho sufficientemente annoiate? Vabbè, Buonanotte!

Gabbi

What Does Brain Thickening Mean

(K)nulla 1, da un'iniziativa di Navigo a vista

(K) to nothing this past night's work. The feeling of helplessness, to realize that they can not do more of what you are doing, in that moment where you realize it can not do and that maybe (just terrible to think) that maybe it's better that way. Looking through the eyes colleague, with your gaze to the doctor ... go ahead because you can not give up, we hope until the end. But the end comes, after all life slips away. Then stop. Look at the time. Strangely, you can not stand up and start doing. Hot water, cotton wool, with a kind gesture and pay attention to the latest treatments. You take it in her arms, speaking in spite of everything, wrap it in and laid him nell'icubatrice SHEET. Take a step back and stay there. Hoping not to collapse. Why can not you fall in front of dad. He needs your strength not to lose her. He has already spoken to the doctor who explained what was done. At the end turn and a small voice says "thanks for everything" and leaves. And there collapses. I collapse. (K) then nothing! Start to make because you need to do. There are other babies to care. We think after a collapse. Now we must go forward. The final round ends, slowly come home trying to stay focused on the road. 52 km are a lot every time but this morning I just unbearable. Enter now at home, the alarm points at 1545 and slept on the double-roomed apartment, without even taking off the shoes. You just want to sleep. The alarm sounds, something in your stomach, go get Wren to kindergarten, laugh, jokes, aspects Cub bus stop, take them around to get the material to build the lanterns, lanterns made while preparing dinner. Make them dinner, a box squatting on the sofa, good night. And finally, the tears come. (K) NOTHING.

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storia della regina irascilbile, la saggia giardiniera e una meridiana di ottone

Sarah Ban Breathnach.

There once was a powerful queen irascible. One autumn, when the year began to turn to a close, the queen fell into a deep melancholy. I could not 'eat it' to sleep, often crying tears of unknown origin that sent on a rampage, triggering excessive anger that made us tremble with fear those who stood beside her.

Every day the queen summoned a new director chosen by her outstanding group of essays, court physician, astrologer, the sensitive, the alchemist, the herbalist, the philosopher. All were dismissed on charges of quackery for not being able to unravel the mystery of the evil spell. They all felt lucky to keep their illustrious careers shortened. "There must be someone among you who knows the source of my suffering!" cried the Queen, in despair. But his pathetic complaint was upheld only by an awkward silence as everyone feared his wrath.

Only the real gardener, moved with pity for the poor woman, came to the throne, "Come into the garden, Your Majesty, your autosegregazione over the wall ..." The queen was so desperate that he did what was asked.

When he came out in the garden, the first time in many weeks, he noticed that the bright and vivid colors of summer had faded and the garden looked bare. He saw, however, was not entirely devoid of beauty and, indeed, was regal in its brilliant crimson and gold tones. The air was pleasantly cool and invigorating and the sky a pure blue. "It's about pickles."

"Your Majesty, what suffers is not your body will 'of your mind. It' s your soul that needs healing. You suffer from a disease that afflicts us all. Just like the seasons of the natural world are moving into a cycle of life, death and rebirth, so the spirits are raised land to sink into sadness and joy in the seasons of emotions. There are days when we should give thanks for the harvest of the heart, however small it may be, and prepare to 'arrival this year. The daylight hours decrease and increase the hours of darkness. But the real light in the world of nature never goes out. And the same goes for your soul. My beloved Queen, do not fear the dark, the light and you know Tornari other happy hours. Of this I am sure. "

Queen, reflecting on these words of wisdom asked the gardener come facesse a possedere il segreto della pace interiore. La giardiniera la condusse a una meridiana d'ottone. Portava scritto:

" Anche questa passerà "

After A 70% Reduction

...quatto quatto si avvicina...

Novembre quatto quatto si avvicina, cogliendo i nostri sensi di sorpresa. Di colpo, come osservò tristemente il poeta inglese Thomas Hood due secoli fa, non c'è "ombra, ne' splendore, ne' farfalle, ne' api, ne' frutti, ne'fiori, ne' foglie, ne' uccelli". Fuori, steli grigio-argento rivelano un paesaggio striato di pretenziosità. Dietro porte chiuse, ambrati fuochi ardenti gettano luce sul reale. Come una donna che ha trovato la sua autenticità, November radiates beauty from within.

Sarah Ban Breathnach

from "The charm of the simple life"