tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-63034707081360290082024-03-19T05:08:16.527-07:00Simon SaysSimon Says Patricia Simonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18321642310097884734noreply@blogger.comBlogger37125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6303470708136029008.post-25605497884954829912017-01-31T20:54:00.003-08:002017-02-01T12:33:39.967-08:00Simon says exclusion is a form of bullying <div style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleTallBody; font-size: 19px;">
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Exclusion is a form of bullying and needs to be talked about. To not be included, to not be chosen, to not be invited, to be left alone. Exclusion comes in all forms.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Yes, words hurt. Being made fun of is the worst. But for me, being excluded is far worse. Growing up, I dreaded gym class. There were always ‘Captains’ and they had to choose who was to be on their team. One by one, they would pick their choice. I was always the last one to be picked. Grade school dances-absolutely dreadful. Back in the day, we had ‘dance cards’. Girls would sit on one side and the boys would sit on the other side. The boys would walk up and down the girls side and pick someone to dance with. The boys had to sign the dance card. For me, I would sit there and watch others dance and my ‘dance card’ never had a name written on it. Recess-time to go out for an hour and play. I would always choose the swing. I would swing up and down and watch the cluster of kids playing catch or tether ball. When I would get off the swing, I’d head to the monkey bars and try and play with the kids. Suddenly, they all ran away and started playing at another part of the playground. Now, I don’t know if I was excluded because I had a cleft lip, my nose was crooked, my ears stuck out from my hair or I talked a little funny. But, I’m pretty sure that is why I was left alone. I was different.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">I had a secret Santa in 3<sup>rd</sup> Grade. But, while all the other kids found presents on their desks, my desk had nothing on it. I remember looking down and praying that I could become invisible. Maybe the person was sick that day or maybe they forgot it was the day we were exchanging gifts. But, for me, it felt personal and it made me sad.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Exclusion just didn’t happen in grade school. It happened in high school and in college. And, it continued to happen in my professional career. Unfortunately, it still happens today. However, I am older and I hope wiser. It still hurts but not nearly as much. After being on this earth for over 55 years, I learned to cope. To deal with it. I surround myself with people who lift me up. People who like me for who I am. It’s a mutual respect and love for each other. Few people are in my inner circle and that is exactly how I like it. I know I can count on them and they can count on me-in times of struggle and disappointments but also in times of celebration and success. We embrace our differences. We accept one another.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">I was never a popular kid in school. I was always chosen last. I was the one who never got invited to parties. I was the one who never had a boyfriend. In high school, I would attend ‘sock hops’ and would just stand at the side watching people get invited to dance or to pulled in to join a group dancing. In college, I went to ‘Catholic Alumni’ dances because, well, that’s what you did. My parents gently encouraged me to go. And, so, I went. But, again, I faced exclusion. I could not even get a guy to talk to me, let alone ask me to dance.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">I’d come home and my parents would anxiously see if I had a good time and I would just meekly say I did. But, in all honesty, it was dreadful.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Now I look back at high school and laugh. I laugh because, I had a silver front tooth where my cleft was. I guess, back then, that was the only thing solid enough to pull my braces. I would smile and this silver tooth would blind you when you looked at me. My God, of course, I didn’t get asked to dance or have a boyfriend. I looked freakish. Picture this, I was tall for my age so I stood above the rest. And, I had this misshapen nose, scar down my nose to my lip, braces and was not pretty compared to my classmates.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">I had a great sense of humor and loved to make people laugh. I used my sense of humor to pull people in. I may not have been the most beautiful person on the outside. And, that was ok. My parents and brothers and sisters made me feel loved and safe. They lifted me up. They tried to protect me so I would not get hurt. But, they also pushed me out the front door and wanted me to experience life with all of its ups and downs. They helped define the person I am today. They always included me and because of that I always felt supported. Our house was a safe place. A place that you could shed your tears and vulnerabilities. A place where there was unconditional love. It was also a place where I always had friends. My brothers and sisters were my first friends. They taught me about life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">I was also very fortunate in that I had become friends with a girl in grade school-Karen Walsh. She never made me feel different. She included me when she was going to a party or to go bike riding. Simple things. But they meant the world to me. Through Karen, I met and became friends with her friends. Thankfully, they also accepted me and included me whenever they would go roller skating, ride their bikes or go to the mall.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">In high school, I had to meet new friends because Karen and my other friends went to a different high school. I remember the day when I met Pauline Rahr. We were in German class freezing because Sister Marie Barbara had the window wide open in the middle of winter. I was goofing around and our eyes met. She was laughing as well. And, well, an instant friendship developed. Pauline got me. She got my sense of humor and always made me feel good about myself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">I went to an all-girls Catholic High School. Beautiful, over achieving, popular girls all trying to be the class President. There were ‘klicks’ and that was to be expected. I just wanted to survive and get through four years of being surrounded by drama queens, cattiness, and bullies. Yes, bullies. I was made fun of. I was also excluded. But, I was able to form some wonderful friendships with girls who were genuinely nice. They liked me and I liked them. We formed a solid bond. A bond of accepting each other for who we were-our flaws and our differences. But, also, our inner beauty. Donna Wilk, Shannon Sullivan and Pauline Rahr-thank you for the gift of your friendship.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Something happened to me in high school and it carried me through the rest of my life. I became secure in who I was becoming. I accepted who I was. I became confident. I liked who I was and became comfortable in my own skin. I owe this to my wonderful, supportive family and close friends.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">In Nursing school, I met two wonderful people. Jean Klein and Mary Osterberger. We were in the same boat. We were paddling towards the same goal and that was to survive nursing school and become a Nurse. We had fun along the way. We laughed at our failures and supported each other when we didn’t pass a test. We were there for each other. And, boy did we celebrate when we passed the test and was able to move on to the next nursing class.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">As a nurse, I also met and became friends with some terrific women. Karen Modica was someone who I clicked with. We worked 12 hour nights together and as we fed the babies, we would talk. Really talk-about life, hardships, hopes and dreams. As a Traveling Nurse, I met Sherry Tackett. A free spirit. A woman who opened my eyes to so many new and wonderful experiences. And who taught me it's ok to be different.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"> I am in my mid fifties. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 11pt;">I have decided to take off my seat belt. Time to take off my training wheels. I am ready to forge into unchartered waters. I’ve never written a book, or a blog, let along write lyrics to a song. But, I feel like I have a voice. A positive, powerful voice. It takes courage to do the right thing. It takes support from your family and friends to support you and your dreams. But, what have I got to lose? Nothing really. There is so much bullying going on today. So much exclusion. Who are we to think that we are better than someone else? Who gives us the right to be mean to someone? To make fun of them? To decide they should not be invited to sit with you at lunch or being asked to come to a party? I am, by no means perfect. I am no angel. I have made mistakes along the way. I have treated people unfairly. But, as I’ve gotten older, I look around and see how divisive we have become.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Thankfully, I did not grow up in the age of social media. There were no Iphones, blogs, Facebook postings, on line dating or Twitter accounts. Just the good old land line phone, TV with 7 stations, a doorbell, and you better be home for family dinner at 6. There was no caller ID. There were cameras that took film and you had to bring it with you if you thought you were going to take pictures-usually for a vacation. We had bikes and we walked everywhere. We knew our neighbors and the names of everyone on the block. We had pay phones. We wore the same clothes and there were no designer labels. There were no reality TV shows. Or, rolling ticker tapes that would play at the bottom of the news station to give nonstop information as to what was happening in the world. We had encyclopedias. There was no Google or Yahoo to look things up. You went to the library instead. You took a typewriting class in school and learned how to type on a typewriter with paper and make carbon copies. There was no Apple or Dell computers. You learned how to write in cursive. You used flash cards to help you learn how to count and multiply. Toys were simple-play dough, crayons, easy bake oven, and board games like Monopoly. There was one type of dog food for your dog-Alpo. There was usually one grocery store that you would go to. Folgers or Maxwell House was the only coffee to choose from. There were no Starbucks or fast food chains at every corner. There were no supersize drinks or food options. There were no fat free, sugar free, grain free foods.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Times do change. There are advances in technology. Both scientific and medical advances. Specialists to treat multi-faceted problems associated with facial differences as well as other medical conditions. We have so many choices in what we wear, shop, eat, vacation, work, or major in at College. So many choices. Maybe too many.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">But, some things don’t change. Being a respectful, trustworthy, loving human being will never go out of fashion. Recognizing that one person can make a difference in someone’s life. A positive impact. A simple smile, an invitation to sit with you at lunch, opening the door for someone-common courtesy. Remembering to include someone instead of not inviting them because of your own selfish reasons. Saying kind words and standing up for yourself and others when you have been wronged. Having a voice and using it. These things make us great. They feed our soul and keep our heart happy. We were not placed on this earth to tear people down. We are here to make a difference. To connect rather than to disconnect. To hug and embrace someone instead of pushing them down by our words or actions. Or, by excluding them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">I can’t change anyone from acting badly. I can only be accountable for my own actions. I choose to surround myself with family and friends who share the same vision. I still stay close to the friends I made in grade school, high school and in nursing. They know me. We have a history together. I know their family and they know mine. We’ve had our ups and downs. But, we know we are there for each other-always.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">I can share my message of being kind to one another and walk the walk. Bullying and exclusion is not the way to go. It makes for a very hurtful society. We are better than that. Let’s join forces and lead the days ahead with the theme of ‘doing the right thing’. If you do that, you won’t have any problems sleeping at night. You will be surrounded by good people and you will have a happy heart that smiles. So instead of exclusion, let's practice inclusion. Yes, we are all uniquely different. And, that is what makes life so wonderful. Let us set the right example, so children follow along in our footsteps. One person can indeed make a difference😊</span></div>
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<br />Patricia Simonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18321642310097884734noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6303470708136029008.post-86633027511285382532016-12-30T13:04:00.000-08:002016-12-30T13:14:22.320-08:00Simon says we are all different and we wouldn't want it any other way!And so, another year is coming to an end. It's amazing to look back and see how quickly the year went by.<br />
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No one knows what the future will hold. However, I think it's important to have gratitude fill your heart. We have so many blessings. So many things to be grateful for. Sure, we all suffer disappointments and setbacks. That is part of life. But it is so very important to surround yourself with positive, nurturing people that will lift you up.<br />
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I'm a member of many Facebook support groups for people born with facial differences. There is a common thread in each of the groups-fear, uncertainty, and lack of knowledge of organizations out there that can offer financial and medical assistance for people born with facial differences.<br />
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There is also a bond amongst the groups. Support, hope, and love for people looking for anyone who has walked in their shoes. Through social media we are able to connect instantly to one another. How cool is that!<br />
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When I was growing up we used to have "pen pals". But now, we have Facebook, so instant, magical connections can be made. All it takes is one positive post to lift someone up. One special emoji chosen in response to a vulnerable post.<br />
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So, in 2017, I'm going to make more of an effort to "connect" with people. Complete strangers who just want their voice to be heard. Someone to fully understand what they are going through. Fears, anxiety, dreams, sharing special milestones-all through writing it down for anyone in the group to read. Knowing that it is a safe place. A place where complete strangers will lift you up, cheer you on, and pray for your well being.<br />
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Sure we were born different. But, you realize we are all different. Yet, we all just want to be loved and accepted for who we are. Let kindness be our guiding light. Reach your hand out and see how much you get back in return. It will make your heart smile and a huge smile will come upon your face.<br />
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Come smile with Simon and see the difference it makes in you and others. Let's continue to lift people up instead of knocking them down. Let's continue to support one another. And, let's start each day and end each day with gratitude. Each of us can make a difference. A positive difference in this world!<br />
Happy and healthy 2017 to all of you. Can't wait to see what this year brings. I know it will be a great year to be alive😊<br />
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<br />Patricia Simonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18321642310097884734noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6303470708136029008.post-7894834120601406422016-07-31T09:19:00.004-07:002016-07-31T09:27:10.506-07:00Simon says don't give up hope. Persevere and move forward<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Simon says don't give up hope. Persevere and move forward<br />
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I sent out numerous emails to publishing companies to see if they would read the draft of my children's book and possibly be interested in publishing it.<br />
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Of all the emails I sent out, I only received a hand full back saying that the publishing company does not accept outside manuscripts. They only look at manuscripts from literary agents.<br />
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I was in the kitchen and said to Colleen, "I give up. No one is even interested in my book." Colleen looked at me in surprise and said, "boy, you give up easily."<br />
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She went on to say that actors and actresses go on auditions several times a day and get rejected all the time. She also said that I need to look at all the people out there looking for a job. They get rejected all the time.<br />
I listened carefully and told her she was so right.<br />
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So, I dusted myself off, and reached out to an illustrator saying I was going to move forward with my book. I signed the contract and sent her a check to get the sketches started. <a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WLFkL9NVwHA/V54kEzhyznI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/XRhO-SC5E7kTqY00vUbX9ipqyhIf-uOawCKgB/s1600/image.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WLFkL9NVwHA/V54kEzhyznI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/XRhO-SC5E7kTqY00vUbX9ipqyhIf-uOawCKgB/s320/image.jpeg" width="319" /></a><br />
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And so, while I was in New York, I stopped in at Simon & Schuster. I talked to the guard, showed my drivers license and asked if I could possibly meet with someone at Simon & Schuster regarding my children's book. He took me aside and told me to go to the library and look up literary agents. He told me the only way to get someone to look at my work is to have my literary agent submit it. I told him, "I am my literary agent." He nicely showed me the door.<br />
Well, I just had to try! You just never know...<br />
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So, I am going to keep on knocking on people's doors. I am going to continue to share my story with others. I am going to keep the faith. If all else fails, I will self publish it myself. I believe in my book. I believe in the positive message for those that read it.<br />
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If at first you don't succeed, try, try, again!<br />
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<br />Patricia Simonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18321642310097884734noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6303470708136029008.post-91023635560504264272016-07-31T08:59:00.001-07:002016-07-31T14:17:35.088-07:00There are wonderful people in this world<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Simon says there are some wonderful people in the world. I asked for help and I received it. And, I received more than I expected.<br />
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It was fate that I met Mary Murphy -concierge at Omni Hotel in New York. I asked if the hotel could donate toiletries to the Smile Train. This was after Deb Silver, Manager of Donor Relations at Smile Train said she was starting to put a program together so that children would have little kits filled with toothpaste, toothbrush, soap, and shampoo. These kits are to be handed out to the kids after they have their cleft lip and/or surgery.<br />
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I talked with Mary about the need and she said she would see if Omni would donate on a monthly basis some toiletries to the Smile Train. Mary was also going to spread the word at area NY hotels to see if they also would donate toiletries to be given out to the children after they have their surgery. <br />
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Wow. I was speechless. I talked with Mary about the need and she went over and above to see if these items could be donated by Omni and other NY hotels.<br />
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Deb Silver, also told me she was looking for a NY hotel to donate a hotels stay for a new group starting at the Smile Train for Young Professionals. Deb told me she was having a hard time finding a NY hotel to step up. Again, Mary to the rescue. I told the need to Mary and she worked her magic. The Omni will be donating a hotel stay to the Smile Train.<br />
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And, then I met Arlaine. She was my room attendant during my stay. Her smile lit up the New York skyline. I told Arlaine that I was going to the Smile Train Headquarters and she gave me the best hug ever! I took the extra soaps, shampoo, mouthwash, etc that I did not use and brought it to the Smile Train Headquarters. Each morning, Arlaine would greet me with a huge smile.<br />
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I made friends with both these women. They shared in my desire to help others and they were so happy to do so. I will be keeping in touch with both these women. They were angels. So willing and happy to help.<br />
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And, the Smile Train was so very appreciative.<br />
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Sometimes, when you least expect it, people pleasantly surprise you. Mary and Arlaine are my heroes. Their generosity helped others. Their smiles made others smile. And, it also made my heart smile.<br />
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Each and every one of us can make a positive impact on others. Even though I live in Chicago and Mary and Arlaine live in New York, we will be forever friends.<br />
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Deb gave me two Smile Train bags filled with a notebook and pen to give to them as a thank you for their generosity. I'm sure when they open the bag, they will smile and remember how a smile can change the world. And, one person can make a difference!<br />
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Patricia Simonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18321642310097884734noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6303470708136029008.post-58275530616404394952016-06-06T20:08:00.001-07:002016-06-06T20:08:32.188-07:00Don't take no for an answer. There has to be a reason why and a cure for children born with cleft lip and/or palate<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I was just sent a DVD by The Smile Train to review their videos and provide feedback. They wanted my opinion on what documentaries I liked, etc. So, today I watched about 8 videos/documentaries on children born with cleft lip and/or palates.</div>
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After watching these videos, I asked myself, why is there no cure? </div>
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The Smile Train completed surgery on over <b>1 million</b> people. <b>1 million people since 1998!</b></div>
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One of the videos said that India has <b>35,000 patients each year </b>that are born with a cleft lip and/or palate. <b>35,000 babies born in India each year with a cleft lip and/or palate.</b></div>
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The Smile Train, Operation Smile, Mercy Ships, etc have done a wonderful job providing surgery for these children and young adults. </div>
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However, everything that I have read, there is <b>no</b> definitive cause as to why someone is born with a cleft lip and/or palate. It may be due to maternal diet, genetics, or environmental conditions. </div>
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Seriously, in today's age of technology and medical advancements, no one has found the root cause? No one?</div>
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No pregnancy registry has been created that connects the dots? </div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The lip forms between the fourth and seventh weeks of pregnancy. Could it be as simple as giving women folic acid supplements during the first 3 months of pregnancy when the lips are formed during this time?</span></div>
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Sometimes you need someone from the outside to ask the simple question of why these children continue to be born with a cleft lip. Has anyone taken the time to document the data and review it in hopes of coming up with a cure? Have we forgotten about this huge global problem?</div>
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Maybe I'm naive, but it can't be this hard to find the exact reason why children are born with cleft lip and/or palate. I'm 55 years old and was born with a cleft lip and palate. If, one Foundation treated 1 million patients since 1998, then there must be <b>millions</b> of people globally that have been been born with cleft lip and/or palate.</div>
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I'm watching the news about the Zika virus and the <b>first case</b> of microencephaly was reported. <span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Zika can be spread from a pregnant woman to her fetus. This can result in microencephaly, severe brain malformations, and other birth defects. The Zika virus is on every news channel and newspaper. People are thinking of boycotting the Olympics in fear of getting the virus.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">In January 2016, the United States CDC issued travel guidance on affected countries, including the use of enhanced precautions, and guidelines for pregnant women including considering postponing travel. Other governments and health agencies also issued similar travel warnings advising women to postpone getting pregnant until more is known about the risks of the Zika virus.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Conversely, this is what is on the US Centers for Disease Control and Prevention website regarding cleft lip and/or palate.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">CDC continues to study birth defects, such as cleft lip and cleft palate, and how to prevent them. If you are pregnant or thinking about becoming pregnant, talk with your doctor about ways to increase your chances of having a healthy baby.</span></div>
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If someone is out there that wants to find a definitive reason why children continue to be born with cleft lip and/or palate, please reach out to me. I am willing and able to help. </div>
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Won't you please join me in trying to find a solution to this huge problem that continues to affect thousands of children each year. </div>
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Patricia Simonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18321642310097884734noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6303470708136029008.post-54362964128671332802016-04-21T18:33:00.000-07:002016-04-21T18:33:12.353-07:00Simon says stare at yourself<div style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">
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Stare at yourself in the mirror, in pictures, at all angles, look at yourself in the way that makes you most uncomfortable until it doesn’t anymore. If you have scars, learn to love them. </div>
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As you get older, you get more wrinkles. So what! It's part of getting older. Learn to see yourself as you are and learn to love what you see. </div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Thanks to the amazing work of surgeons over many years, and being lucky enough to grow up in a country with wonderful healthcare, I feel extremely lucky. I wear the small scar on my lip as a symbol of pride, the representation of the hard work of many and constant support of my family and friends.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">It seems we are so fixated on beauty and staying forever young. But, inner beauty is really what makes someone beautiful. This needs to be the message.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> You smile with your eyes and if you have inner beauty, people will be drawn to you. So, please stare at yourself in the mirror. Your beauty should be staring right back at you and that should make you smile!</span></div>
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Patricia Simonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18321642310097884734noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6303470708136029008.post-49124913290328065162016-03-25T10:16:00.001-07:002016-03-25T10:16:06.258-07:00Simon Says: You can make a difference<a href="http://simonsayssmiletoday.blogspot.com/2016/03/you-can-make-difference.html?spref=bl">Simon Says: You can make a difference</a>: Cleft Palate Foundation 1504 East Franklin Street, Suite 102 Chapel Hill, NC 27514-2820 USA (800) 242-5338 (919) 933-9044 When I was...Patricia Simonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18321642310097884734noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6303470708136029008.post-29355303536885987692016-03-25T10:05:00.001-07:002016-03-25T10:15:25.294-07:00You can make a difference<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Cleft Palate Foundation</span></h4>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">1504 East Franklin Street, Suite 102<br />Chapel Hill, NC 27514-2820 USA<br /><a href="tel:(800) 242-5338">(800) 242-5338</a><br /><a href="tel:(919) 933-9044">(919) 933-9044</a></span></div>
When I was searching the internet for a Craniofacial specialist I came across the website for The Cleft Palate Foundation. It was on this website that I was able to find the University of Illinois Craniofacial Clinic. While looking at all the resources on the Cleftline website I saw that you could purchase a cleft line bear. The teddy bear had stitches on his lip. For $10.00 you could support the Foundation and also bring a smile to a child's face.<br />
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When I was at the University of Illinois Craniofacial clinic I saw how many children were being treated for cleft lip/palate. I had no idea how many kids are born with cleft lip/palate.<br />
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When I was born, I had surgery at about 6 months of age and then again as a teenager. I went on with my life and never really gave it much thought. I would go for dental care during my adult years and never had a problem. Until I developed an abscess. Then it changed everything. It changed my life and opened my eyes.<br />
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After doing further research, I came to learn how many children are born throughout the world with cleft lip/palate. I realized things just don't stop once you have the initial surgical repair. Some countries, there are still thousands of children waiting to have the initial surgery. The children are looked upon as outcasts and abandoned. My family has always contributed to the Smile Train over the years. But, I needed to do more. I felt compelled to give back. But how??<br />
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While at one of my appointments at the UIC clinic I sat and watched the steady stream of children and parents coming in for their appointments. Every seat was taken in the waiting room. It then hit me. Why don't I buy as many of these cleftline teddy bears and give them to the children at the Clinic. And, that's exactly what I did. I would buy 20 bears at a time because that is how many would fit in a box to be shipped to the clinic.<br />
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I would buy the bears throughout the year. I also got people at work to purchase a bear. I also would give bears out at work to people that had little kids. My thinking was every child would love a teddy bear and it teaches children at an early age that we are all different. Even teddy bears are not all exactly alike.<br />
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In the last two years I've been able to purchase a large number of teddy bears. It supports the Cleftline Foundation and it brings a smile to a child's face. Plus as an added bonus, it makes me feel good.<br />
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When I came to the clinic for one of my appointments, Alma, one of the terrific nurses there told me that she gave a bear to a girl that was going off to college. The girl had been a patient of the clinic for years and she was so happy to receive the teddy bear. Alma told me the young lady was going off to college and she was going to bring it with her for her Dorm room. That brought a smile on my face!<br />
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And yesterday, when I went to the Clinic for another appointment, Alma greeted me and told me how much the patients like the bears. A smile appeared on her face and mine. She made my day.<br />
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So you see, sometimes when you least expect it, a simple gesture can make a difference. We get so caught up with our life that we forget the small things. Those small positive gestures can turn into something wonderful and powerful. And, it creates a snowball effect. You want to do more. You want to make a difference. You want to leave a legacy of doing the right thing and doing something positive for someone. And so, more good things are coming out of being treated as an adult cleft lip/palate patient.<br />
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The cleft line bear has stitches over its lip. It's really adorable. And, on its ear is a tag of the 1-800 number saying that Hope and Help are on the line. Just hugging the bear makes you want to smile.<br />
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For $10.00 you can purchase a bear. You are never too old to have a teddy bear!<br />
<br />Patricia Simonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18321642310097884734noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6303470708136029008.post-79432982753536786062016-03-24T18:01:00.002-07:002016-03-24T18:01:48.682-07:00Never give up hope<br />
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Today I went to get my one dental implant removed. When I walked into the Clinic, Alma, one of the R.N.'s said hello to me. She proceeded to tell me that the kids just love the teddy bears that I donate. She told me she handed one out earlier to an adult cleft lip/palate patient and was so thrilled to hug it. I told Alma, that she made my day.<br />
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I then went to dental Clinic for my appointment with Dr. Reisberg. He is not only a great Dentist but a great man. He is very caring and it's like watching an artist at work.<br />
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He put cherry numbing gel on my front gum. While he waited for the numbing agent to take effect, he showed me two dental markups. Two dental students and a newly hired Dentist came into the room. He asked me to smile. He did careful measurements of my scar and where my midline was. They discussed options amongst themselves and he looked at me so closely, as if he was going to do a painting. He'd line things up, then ask me to smile again and this went on for about ten minutes.<br />
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It was then time for the injection. Well, it was really unbearable. They had to use a larger needle because there was so much scar tissue. 54 years worth of scar tissue. As he did the injections I begged for him to stop. Pleaded with him to just give me a moment to compose myself. But, he told me that he had just a little more to do. Maria, the assistant, handed me Kleenex. She told me she wanted to hold my hand but she didn't know if I would swat her away. Ok, so the injection part was over. I no longer was laying stiff in the chair with my feet hyperextended.<br />
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He took the little silver cap off of the tooth. He tapped it and asked if I had any pain. I told him no pain, just a little pressure. He then tested the implant again. He asked me again if I had pain. I told him again no pain, just pressure. I opened my eyes and looked into Dr. Reisberg's eyes. He said to me that he never saw anything like this before. He told me that he thought the implant may be good. He thought for sure that he was going to remove it at this appointment. The past two appointments, he would tap on the implant and I almost jumped off the table. He thought that perhaps the screw was too tight and when he went to loosen it in prior visits that maybe there was tissue that had adhered around the implant and that's what caused the pain.<br />
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And so, there is still hope. I told him it must be due to the Holy Water! I bless myself with Holy Water and say a prayer each morning.<br />
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The implant was not taken out. Not at this appointment. Maybe, just maybe, the implant will turn out to be good. I have faith that all will turn out the way it's suppose to be. I'm ok with that. If it turns out that the implant is indeed not good, then I know Dr. Reisberg has a plan to attach two crowns to the other implant. I'm in good hands.<br />
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Just when you prepare yourself for the worst, sometimes you are given some hope. And, the frown turns into a smile.<br />
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Patricia Simonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18321642310097884734noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6303470708136029008.post-90008032165231309552016-03-23T15:41:00.001-07:002016-03-23T15:41:07.125-07:00Look beyond what you first see<br />
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Tomorrow I go to get my dental implant removed. I dread tomorrow. I am in mourning. I've waited two years for my bone to grow. I had bone taken from my hip to build my palate. I then waited another year and had the rods surgically implanted into the bone so it could withstand eventual implants. I waited two years for the bone to get strong. I was missing my front teeth for two years. But, I adapted knowing that one day I would have two beautiful front teeth because of these dental implants. I never for a moment thought the bone would not be strong enough.<br />
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As I was walking Barrett today, I came across a lawn filled with colorful Easter eggs sprinkled all over the front lawn. It hit me. My dental implant process is like I've been holding this very fragile egg for two years. I nurtured it and was hoping it was growing. I did everything I was suppose to do. And yet, the egg cracked. Like my bone with the screw in it, it just cracked when an attempt was made to see if it was strong enough. It wasn't.<br />
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And so tomorrow I go to have the screw pulled out of my bone. All that time hoping and praying the bone would take. Yet, it didn't.<br />
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I looked around the front lawn with the colorful Easter eggs. Eggs, like people come in all colors. And, an egg can be made into crepes, deviled eggs, quiche, omelet, poached, fried, scrambled, over easy, basted, and hard boiled. So many varieties.<br />
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So, my egg has a crack in it. I realized that a egg doesn't get thrown out because it has a crack in it. It can be made into so many wonderful dishes and enjoyed.<br />
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So,this implant didn't work. But, I have high hopes that my wonderful Dentist will be able to work his magic. I'm confident he will. He will somehow utilize my one good implant to make it into a beautiful pair of front teeth.<br />
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Sometimes things don't go as planned. That's when you have to realize that maybe it wasn't meant to be. You realize a plain white egg may have a crack in it, but it's still good. You have to look at the bright side.<br />
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Maybe it's a coincidence that my appointment is just a few days before Easter. Easter, is celebrated as a time of rebirth and renewal. And so, I'm going to forge ahead. I might be losing my dental implant, however, I look at this as a time of rebirth/renewal for me. All will work out just how it is suppose to work out. I have faith.<br />
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We need to learn to look beyond the physical and appreciate each other for what's on the inside not the outside.Patricia Simonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18321642310097884734noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6303470708136029008.post-34985758536427338152016-03-22T17:23:00.000-07:002016-03-22T17:42:06.652-07:00Everyone needs a sign<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">My sign came to me on my way to work. I was contemplating leaving a stable job in which I had been with the company for 12 years. It would be a major move. I liked the people I worked with and knew my job. However, it was becoming very clear to me that the right thing to do was to leave. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">As I was driving down the road and making my way to the gatehouse, a car was in front of me. Oh my goodness. I looked at the license plate. And there it was, right in front of me. I grabbed my cell phone and quickly took a picture. This was just too amazing. This was finally the key to the lock, the combination numbers to the safe, the answer to my prayers.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Let me go back. For a good year or two I kept seeing this number. 808. The more I noticed it, the more it appeared. The key to our file cabinet is 808, my eyes always seem to look at the clock at </span><span style="font-size: large;">precisely 8:08. Our hotel room on vacation was 808. The extension </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">to the front desk was 808. Everywhere I looked I saw 808. The area code in Hawaii is 808-one of my favorite places to vacation. The restaurant in Las Vegas was named 808. Those numbers spoke to me. If I had a camera for every time I saw the numbers 808 it would be full. But, I didn't need one photo album. I just needed that one picture. The picture that literally spelled it out for me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">You would think I would have gotten it earlier. I would have understood the meaning. But, no. It had to spelled out to me.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I firmly believe you have to be open to things. You have to let things in. Even though you might not understand it, you need to embrace it and go with it.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I believe in angels. I believe that you have souls watching out for you.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I've told my family and friends this story. Now when they see 808 they will call me, or text me saying they saw the number and were thinking of me.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I wear a bracelet with 808 on it. It's always on. It serves as a comfort for me.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The picture that literally spelled it out for me was a license plate that read "Dad 808". It was right in front of me. I firmly believe that it was and is my Dad saying to me that he is with me. Always watching out for me. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">My Dad died when he was only 72 years of age. I was 32 years old. He died too soon. I needed more time with him. I was lucky enough to have 20 more years with my Mom before she died. I had so much more to learn from my Dad. He was a great man. He had a heart of gold. He helped shape me. He taught me to speak up. He helped me with my confidence and told me that "education can never be taken away from you". He was so proud of me. He was thrilled that I went into Nursing. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I remember coming home from church one Sunday and telling my Dad that they said they were praying for him. I thought to myself that he was fine. But, he knew better. A few days later he died of congestive heart failure. I was in shock. How could a man with such a huge heart die of congestive heart failure. His heart that was once so strong just gave out.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">And so, eighteen years ago after my Dad died, I finally started seeing his presence. Every time I see 808 I think of my Dad. I know he is watching over me. I'm sure I saw 808 way before 18 years after his passing. But, maybe I was not ready to put the connection together. My eyes were closed but now they are open. I'm trying to make my Dad proud of me. I'm trying to do the right thing. Each and every day. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Sometimes when you least expect it, you are given a sign. It's your choice whether or not you want to embrace it. I'm so happy I chose to make the connection. It gives me peace.</span><br />
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Patricia Simonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18321642310097884734noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6303470708136029008.post-59025101592075724442016-03-21T21:01:00.000-07:002016-03-21T22:30:54.202-07:00Why do bad things happen to good people?<span style="font-size: large;">Why do bad things happen to good people?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I ask myself this question and have not found a good enough answer. Is it to make us stronger? If so, I would rather lift weights. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Newborn babies are born with life threatening health conditions. Children get diagnosed with life threatening health issues. And, adults get diagnosed as well. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">It's not just health issues. It's people who suffer from emotional, financial, and other hardships. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">You hate to see anyone in pain or anyone having a rough go of it. You feel helpless. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I know I try and be very positive and say to smile because it does the body good. But when you hear that someone you know just heard that their brain tumor is back. Well, I just have to be sincere and say the F word.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Sometimes, the only thing to do is say the F word. Over and over again. Loud and clear. It makes me feel better. I don't know why. I can't explain it. It just feels good to say the F word.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Kids, if you are reading this, please say "Fudge", instead.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Thank Goodness my Mom is not alive to hear me say the F word. She would give me a very disappointed look and say, "Oh honey, please don't say that word". But I'm almost 55 so I feel like I've earned the right to say it.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Please take a moment and tell your loved ones that you love them. Give them a good hug. Raise them up. Cherish their laugh and the good times you've shared. Don't put it off. Tomorrow is not a given.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The reality is bad things do happen to good people. That's when they need you the most. Be strong for them. Sit, listen, and hold their hand. </span>Patricia Simonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18321642310097884734noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6303470708136029008.post-62856749165362775892016-03-21T14:31:00.000-07:002016-03-21T14:31:00.482-07:00Simon says never upstage the Bride<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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When I was a young girl I always had one ear that would stick out. No matter how I parted my hair, my ear stuck out beyond my hair. Like Mr. Potato head.<br />
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I'm not sure how old I was, maybe 10 years old. I remember my Mom taking me downtown to see this doctor. The minute, I walked in his office, I could smell the rubbing alcohol. From what I can recall, the doctor gave me 10 injections in each ear of novacaine or something along those lines. I screamed with each injection. It really was torture. I was screaming and crying as my Mom tried to comfort me. The doctor then surgically pinned my ears back. He took tissue off each ear to make my ears smaller. This was all done in his office. No day surgery with IV sedation. Not back then. It is hard to write this because I remember those injections to numb the pain. The injections were the worst part.<br />
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After he was done, he bandaged my head up in gauze. I'm not talking a little gauze. No. My whole head was wrapped up like I just had brain surgery. No piece of hair was showing. Just me and my head wrapped in a turban of white gauze.<br />
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I remember going home and the injections wearing off. It was unbearable pain. My ears were throbbing and nothing stopped the pain. I don't remember taking pain medication. I am not even sure if he gave my Mom anything to give me. I remember being in our basement, being held by my Mom as she rocked me. She was beside herself. I was inconsolable. The pain was just terrible. My Mom would rock me and try and comfort me but it didn't work. I needed some IM Demerol or something strong like that. I remember my Mom finally giving me some Irish Whiskey to sip. Irish household so Irish whiskey was in the cabinet. It did the trick. I fell asleep in my Moms arms. Come to think of it, maybe that is why as an adult I loved Irish coffee!<br />
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About a week or so later, I remember going with my family to our neighbors wedding. Seriously. There I was in a cute dress and my head wrapped in gauze. I have no idea what my parents were thinking. Clearly they could see my head was wrapped in gauze. You would think that one of them would have stayed home with me while my family went to the wedding and reception. But, no. I went. And, I was happy to go. I remember smiling and having a good time at the wedding and reception.<br />
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Can you imagine the horror on the Brides face when she saw me with my head wrapped up in a white turban. And, the guests. Talk about taking away from the Bride. Well that's what I did. I knew I looked different and stood out. But, I didn't care. It was as if I forgot I was walking around with my head wrapped in white gauze. I knew I had surgery. I knew I had a bandage (albeit a HUGE bandage) and I was ok with that. And so were my parents.<br />
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I know that is where I got my spunk. My confidence. My family never made me feel different. They encouraged me to go out and play. To make friends. To smile and laugh. To love life.<br />
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I'd love to reach out to the Bride to apologize some forty five years later about showing up at her wedding looking like a mummy to some extent. I know I took away from her special day. Knowing her and her family, they were good sports and said it was fine for me to attend. But, I still crack a smile when I remember the day I went to her wedding wearing a white turban. I so stuck out! I am smiling just recalling this. I'm sure I'm in her wedding album. Please forgive me!Patricia Simonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18321642310097884734noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6303470708136029008.post-76056374052581170652016-03-21T14:16:00.000-07:002016-03-21T15:59:05.481-07:00 God Bless The Day Susie Was Born<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Little did I know that I already had a best friend even before I was born. Susie is my sister. We are about 18 months apart. She has always been my protector, my side kick, my partner in crime, my supporter, my shoulder to lean on and my buddy.<br />
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See, when we were young, I always used Susie as my excuse. I would write on the sofa cushions with a Bic pen and tell my parents that Susie did it. I would fall asleep chewing gum and would wake up with it stuck to my hair. I'd tell my parents Susie put it in my hair. I blamed a lot of stuff on Susie and my parents bought it.<br />
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We would watch the Brady Bunch together, Bozo Circus, pretend we were wrestlers, play HORSE basketball, ride our bikes together, play catch and running bases in the front of our hose, kick the can and play hide and seek.<br />
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See, these were the days before internet, cable TV, mobile phones, texting and Facebook. You went out and played and came home before dark. You ate dinner as a family. And, you talked about how your day was. The girls set the table and cleared the dishes.<br />
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I went to Kelly Day Camp as a young girl and came home crying after the first day. I told my parents that I was not going back to camp. The kids bullied me. They made fun of me because I had a scar and talked with a slight speech impediment. My Dad had already paid for the summer. And, this camp was not cheap. My parents tried to talk me into going back. Give it another go. I said, "no." And so, Susie went in my place. She went to this day camp for me. The entire summer. June, July and August. I never remember Susie being mad at me for having to take my place.<br />
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My first day of high school I was petrified. I had made friends in grade school but none of my close friends were going to Regina Dominican. I believe I was crying for days knowing that the first day of high school was approaching. I remember my sister making sure she was with me on my first day of school. She was there to take me to each class and made sure I survived my first day of high school. I was so afraid of leaving my comfort zone and going to a new school. But, there was Susie with me each step of the way, holding my hand and making sure I would make it. And, I did!<br />
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Susie also took me driving. I had no permit. Nor did I have a drivers license. But, she would take the car out and we would change seats. She would let me drive around the area. Those were the days. Windows rolled down and the radio blaring.<br />
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As we got older, Susie and I would go downtown to Rush street on the weekends. We would go from bar to bar and dance and drink and drink and dance. We had a blast. And, we always made sure we were home before our 2 a.m. curfew. Well, a few times we were a little late. We did use the pay phone to call my parents telling them we would be a little late. We would pull up to the house and all the lights were on. We were in big trouble. Big trouble.<br />
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After I graduated from high school I went to Felician College while trying to figure out what I wanted to do. I graduated from Felician College with an Associate of Arts degree. I then decided I was going to be a Nurse. I applied to Evanston Hospital School of Nursing. A prerequisite was high school chemistry. I had never taken high school chemistry. So, that meant I had to take a chemistry class in order to get into nursing school. I signed up and started my chemistry class at North Park<br />
College. After the second class I realized I would not pass this class. This was a college chemistry class and it was way over my head. I never took high school chemistry. So, I came home and told my parents that I was going to drop the class. It meant that I would have to go to Loyola Academy and take high school chemistry. Mind you, I had graduated from high school and had my Associate degree. But, I needed that high school chemistry class and this was the only way I could do it. So, I took chemistry at Loyola Academy two years after I graduated from college.<br />
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That wasn't really the bad part. The bad part was this-I had made plans to go to China with Susie at the end of the summer. We were all booked-airfare and tour. But, the class at Loyola was still going to be held when we were suppose to go to China. What did I do? I told my parents and sister that I could not go to China because I was still gonna be in class. The trip was to be cancelled. But wait, my Mom and Dad decided to go on the trip with Susie. I'm laughing as I write this. I know Susie could have killed me. But, she didn't. She went on the trip with my parents while I stayed home andwent to summer school. Susie, yet again was my hero.<br />
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I passed the chemistry class and went on to become a Nurse. I worked at Northwestern on a female gynecology oncology unit for two years. I then spent a few years traveling the country while doing nursing for 4 month temporary assignments ( Irvine California, West Palm Beach Florida, King<br />
George County hospital in Maryland, Phoenix and Univ of California in San Francisco.) I was a "traveling nurse". They would give you a one day orientation to the unit, then you were on your own. In San Francisco, I worked on the AIDS floor. This was first in any hospital. Before you could go into any room you had to gown and glove. These patients were all in isolation. This shows you how far we have come in healthcare.<br />
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I returned home one summer and went downtown with Susie to see the beautiful lakefront. Susie andI were walking along the lakefront when all of a sudden, KABOOM. I fell in an open MANHOLE. Yes, you read that correctly. When Susie realized I was not walking next to her, she looked back and saw me hanging by my elbows as my body was hanging through the manhole. Somehow, Susie was able to put her arms under my arms and after a few tries, I was able to get out of the manhole. She saved me yet again. Honest to God, there was no drinking involved. We were just walking and talking and laughing.<br />
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I came out to my sister when we went to the Wisconsin State Fair. I was in my mid to late twenties. I was so afraid to come out to her. I was so afraid of being rejected or being a disappointment. I knew in my heart that she would be loving and approving but there was always that possibility of rejection. Some of my friends suffered horrible rejection from their parents, siblings and friends. And even though I knew that would not happen I just was so afraid of the possibility. I lived my life in secrecy.<br />
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You have to understand that times were different back then. Being gay was considered a sin and I was brought up Catholic and attended all Catholic schools. It's hard to put into words. I know Susie was upset that I did not come out to her first. I had told my sister Sherry a few months earlier. I know that hurt her deeply that I did not tell her first. That is on me and has nothing to do with Susie. It was my fear.<br />
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As a young adult, my fear of coming out led me to live in secrecy. But, I knew I could not live my life as a lie. And so, I came out to my family, friends and co workers. I am who I am. You either like me or you don't. I was Susie's Maid of Honor and she was my Maid of Honor.<br />
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Susie has always accepted me for being me. She has such a kind, loving heart. She has volunteered with me as I become more active in the cleft lip/palate community. As we get older, our bond becomes even stronger. Susie has helped shape my life-for the better. I am a better person because of her.<br />
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Not sure how this happened, but we are now going to Estate Sales. And, Susie turned me on to butterflies. We were in Aruba and we went to the Butterfly farm. She knew a lot of the names of the butterflies and would say, "Look, there is a Monarch". A butterfly would land on me and she would quietly whisper to me that it's good luck if a butterfly lands on you.<br />
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I'm lucky alright! God sent me my angel and her name is Susie. My Boopie!<br />
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Patricia Simonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18321642310097884734noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6303470708136029008.post-60000520069512671402016-03-20T13:38:00.003-07:002016-03-20T13:38:45.351-07:00Simon says, Pledge Allegiance to the FlagThe Pledge of Allegiance to the Flag: “I pledge allegiance to the Flag of the United States of America, and to the Republic for which it stands, one Nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.”<br />
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I pledge allegiance to the flag.<br />
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Going back for my Grade school reunion reminded me of this experience.<br />
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I think I was in 4th grade and every day a student was picked to say the Pledge of Allegiance over the speaker system. It was a big deal! It was an honor. It was your 5 minutes of fame.<br />
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The room was actually a very small office where there was this huge silver microphone. You know the type of microphone. The type you see in the hands of singers-Elvis or Frank Sinatra. So big that singers had to hold it in both hands as they sang.<br />
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The room was next to the Principal's office. This was the microphone that was used to make major announcements throughout the school. If your name was called to go to the Principal's office, it was because someone was using this microphone.<br />
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I knew maybe a week before that my day to say the pledge of Allegiance was coming up. I would sit with my Mom in the breakfast room as I practiced the pledge. I had problems with pronunciation -especially words with S and T in them. I would say the pledge and my Mom would listen carefully and correct me if there were words that she could not understand. I worked hard on saying the Pledge of Allegiance. Every day after school I would practice with my Mom<br />
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Well, the big day came. I was so excited. I mean crazy happy excited. I remember getting to the office way ahead of time. I did not want to be late. I remember sitting at the desk holding the huge silver microphone in my hands. I moved closer to the microphone. I wanted to make sure everyone could hear me.<br />
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The woman flipped some switches on the desk and made the announcement that "Patty Simon would now be saying the Pledge of Allegiance" and to stand. She then handed me the microphone. I started to say, "I pledge allegiance" and well, I think I blew out the speakers. I was way too excited. And, way too loud. The woman looked at me before I could continue and signaled to not shout but to talk softer. And so I did. I have to say that I nailed it. I said the Pledge beautifully. Oh, I wish my parents were at school to hear me.<br />
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I finished the pledge and walked back to my home room class with a great big smile on my face. All of the practicing payed off. I did a great job. I smiled nonstop for the entire day. I not only was proud to be an American but I was also proud of myself. I had a small speech impediment but that did not stop me from doing what every other kid in school could do. When it came time for me to step up to the microphone, I cherished the moment and grabbed the microphone with both hands. And, a huge smile came over my face.<br />
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It was a great confidence booster for me. And, I was so proud to say the words of Pledge of Allegiance.<br />
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Maybe now is the time that we all need to stand tall and be proud to be an American. Reinstalling this faith and unity in citizens is key to our future.Patricia Simonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18321642310097884734noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6303470708136029008.post-58033079663106514842016-03-20T13:17:00.001-07:002016-03-20T13:21:06.309-07:00Never let anyone put a hand on youThe "Slap"<br />
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When I was a young child I had a speech therapist come to the house to help me with my speech. She was a friend of a friend. I was maybe 7 years old.<br />
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Now you may think, wow, you had a speech therapist come to you house? Yes. This was the 60's. Doctors used to make house calls as well. There was no Craniofacial team of doctors and specialists back then.<br />
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So, anyway, I was in the breakfast room with the speech therapist. I was practicing my pronunciation. I had exercises to do and I was saying the words out loud. Well, evidently I did not say the words correctly. The therapist slapped me hard across my face. She slapped me!<br />
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My Mom came rushing into the breakfast room to see what the commotion was. I told my Mom that she slapped me across the face. The therapist did not deny it. She actually told my Mom that I was not saying the words correctly.<br />
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I remember this part very clearly. My sweet, soft spoken Mom who would never hurt a fly said in a very strong and loud voice, "Don't you ever lay a hand on my daughter. Ever. Get out of the house and never come back".<br />
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Well that was that. No more speech therapist. My Mom would be my speech therapist.<br />
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That experience helped shape my life. My Mom stood up for me and took<br />
on the role of helping me speak better. Pronunciate my words. We practiced words like thirst, first, shirt, sugar, etc.<br />
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Nowadays, this person would have been arrested and charged with battery. But not back then.<br />
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Recently, when I told the speech therapist at the UIC, she could not believe it. But, you have to remember that was in the 60s and things were very different. Very different.<br />
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For me, I would not change a thing. The "Slap" was an experience that I share because it says a lot without saying a lot.<br />
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Never let anyone lay a finger on you. Speak up for yourself. Know that you are not perfect -no one is. And, make sure you surround yourself with people that lift you up. People that are positive and forward thinking. People that embrace and give a good hug! No slaps, just smiles!Patricia Simonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18321642310097884734noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6303470708136029008.post-69355767990863964592016-03-20T12:59:00.000-07:002016-03-20T12:59:00.855-07:00Simon says always have a back up planOh my God! Have you ever lost your phone? You search your purse, your pockets, your coat pockets looking for your phone. However, you can't find it. All of a sudden you start going into a panic. You tear your house apart. You tear your car apart. You use someone else's phone to call your mobile phone to see if you can hear your special ring.<br />
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You say to yourself that it has all your information in it. Phone numbers, access to your Email, your pictures-well, everything. For the life of you, you can't remember anyone's phone number. If you had to call someone from memory you realize your brain is mush. It's not your fault. It's Apple, Samsung, etc. They made you rely on technology so much that you can't rely on your memory to recall phone numbers, addresses, last names, Doctor's names or how to get to point A to Point B without the darn mobile phone.<br />
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Remember when you knew all of your friends phone numbers by heart? You used to use a telephone book to look up the address for a plumber or painter. You knew how to read a map and carried maps in your car. For me, I had maps of the City of Chicago, Wisconsin and a highway map of the United States.<br />
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You carried people's business cards in your wallet. If you needed someone's number you would rifle through your wallet reviewing your stack of business cards. You then would use your phone at home (land line). Or, if you were out, you would always make sure you had plenty of quarters with you in case you needed to use a pay phone. Back then, pay phones were everywhere-gas stations, food stores, bars, etc.<br />
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Land lines and pay phones are becoming extinct. So is the answering machine. I'm the type of person that will always have a land line. Just in case. And, of course, I have to have the answering machine hooked up to the phone. Again, just in case. Now, the only time I use the land line is to call my cell phone number to see if I can hear the cell phone ringing and then I can locate the cell phone.<br />
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Oh yes, the cell phone. It was lost. I unknowingly dropped it at a restaurant while having dinner. I realized I didn't have my phone when I got home. I tore the house apart, the car and checked the pockets of all the clothes I was wearing. I retraced my steps and used my Ipad to Google the restaurant's phone number and then used my land line to call the restaurant. After speaking to several people and describing where in the restaurant I was sitting they found my phone. It was as if I won the lottery. They had my phone. My connection to the world was only disconnected for a few hours. I made a sign of the cross and said, "thank you Jesus".<br />
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Now, if only Gino's East would call me to tel me they found my wallet. That will not be happening. My wallet was stolen the day after Christmas while at the restaurant in downtown Chicago. My hometown. I was not traveling abroad or in a different state. I was in Chicago. Drivers license, credit cards, cash station card, insurance cards, gift cards and treasured pictures-stolen. Never to be returned.<br />
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You don't realize how much you use something until it's gone. It's these life lessons that speak to you. An IPhone and wallet can all be replaced. Albeit a real pain but still replaceable. These are objects. Objects. One thing that can never be replaced is your family and friends. All the memories, laughter, good times, special moments and the love you feel in your heart knowing you are loved!<br />
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<br />Patricia Simonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18321642310097884734noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6303470708136029008.post-2246480604391515792016-03-20T12:50:00.000-07:002016-03-20T13:10:31.041-07:00Nursing is a wonderful career<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Nursing is a wonderful career<br />
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A few weeks ago, I met up with a team of labor and delivery nurses and doctors. I had not seen them for over 20 years. But, it was as if time did not go by. We met at Meier's Tavern, ate tater tots and sipped our beverages as we reminisced. The laughter and the hugs-we were loud and we were happy. It was a large turnout. Probably 25 people that came out on a cold Chicago winter night to meet up with old co-workers/friends.<br />
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When I was a labor and delivery nurse at Evanston Hospital I was around 25 years old. I had done<br />
medical and surgical nursing. I had administered chemotherapy. I had worked at county hospitals and private hospitals. But, I knew nothing about labor and delivery. And, to be honest, I just never felt comfortable being a L&D nurse. Some nurses were made to work in these fast paced areas-L&D or in the Emergency Room. They loved it when someone yelled "crash section", "she is crowning", "footling breech", "decels". Not me. I wanted to hide. I hated the life and death part of working in L&D. One minute everything is going great with your patient. You are out laughing at the nursing station with your fellow nurses and then, BAM, the fetal heart rate tracing looks bad, someone comes in with no fetal movement, or a Mom that is 28 weeks is in active labor.<br />
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I had great mentors in L&D. They tried to show me the way. They showed me how to start an IV, administer Pitocin or MagSulfate, push with a patient and monitor the baby's heart rate. They were there when I had to scrub for a crash c-section. The doctor initiated me during my first month on the job. The doctor threw an Alice clamp across the room because I handed him the wrong instrument. I handed him a T clamp and he started throwing instruments across the room. I stepped down, and the circulating nurse stepped in. She was there to catch me when I stumbled.<br />
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Working in L&D is a high pressure job. It's great when the board is empty and you can hang out with the nurses and doctors at the nursing station. It's absolutely a miracle each and every time a baby is born and you are there to experience it and have had some small part in that special moment. When it is busy, well, anything goes. All hell breaks loose. It's not all happy with cute Gerber babies being born. There are tragedies-stillborn, babies born with multiple deformities, and mothers that die in childbirth.<br />
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The labor and delivery nurses and doctors are there for you. In good times and bad times. They hold your hand, they shout encouragement, and they want the very best outcome for you and your baby. They give everything they got.<br />
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And so, I guess that is why L&D nurses and doctors are so special. You have to work well together. You have to have each other's back. You have to be there for each other. The normal deliveries are so rewarding, but it is the more complicated pregnancies and deliveries that makes you come together. When one nurse is weak, a stronger nurse steps in.<br />
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Twenty years ago, you could smoke in the hospital. In the nurses lounge you could grab a quick smoke and then run out and adjust your patient's IV Pitocin. Times have changed. That night, at Meier's Tavern, they handed out packs of candy cigarettes. It reminded us of the old days when you could smoke. But, the pack of candy cigarettes serves as a reminder that although things do indeed change, there are things that don't change such as the bond of nurses and doctors. Good people who want to do the best job taking care of you.<br />
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I have been so fortunate to work with such a wonderful team. They had a huge impact on my life-they taught me about teamwork, camaraderie, and compassion.<br />
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I am so very proud to be a nurse. It's been a very rewarding profession. And, I am the person I am today because I chose to become a nurse. My patients and coworkers changed me-for the better!<br />
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All I have to do is look at this pack of cigarettes and a smile comes over my face.<br />
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Patricia Simonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18321642310097884734noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6303470708136029008.post-31859372320258431872016-03-07T17:50:00.000-08:002016-03-07T17:50:00.668-08:00Sometimes you just need to hit alt/control/delete and power yourself down. Then, after a bit of down time, power yourself back up and move forward.I suffered a major disappointment last week. I went for my dental appointment at UIC. I had told Dr. Reisberg that my implant hurt for a number of days after my last appointment. I told him I felt something crack or snap when he pressed on the screw. He checked the area and said the gum was nice and pink. He then tapped on the right implant and there was no pain. Then he tapped on my left implant and I jumped in pain. This is the side of the implant where my cleft palate runs through my gum to the roof of my mouth.<br />
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To go back, I had an oral surgeon use cadaver bone for my first surgery. When sutures were removed it was apparent that a hole was created in my sinus because of this surgery. I developed multiple infections and sought another doctor to help me.<br />
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I found UIC Craniofacial center and underwent surgery where they took bone from my hip to build my palate. I had to wait a good year for the bone to grow and get strong. Then last year, I underwent another surgery for them to insert the dental implants into the bone. Both surgeries involved inpatient hospitalization.<br />
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So, this has been over two years in the making. I was so looking forward to getting my two dental implants so I could have two front teeth. I was filled with anticipation and hope. But then, with a simple tap on the dental screw it all changed. Dr. Reisberg said he was so sorry but the pain was not a good sign. He tried to unscrew the implant just a little to see if I could tolerate it, and I jumped off the table. So, in a very caring way, he just said that the implant by my cleft was not good. I almost burst into tears but I kept it together. He kept measuring and looking at the dental screws and was talking out loud of some possibilities. He did a dental impression and said he was going to have to think about Plan B.<br />
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He told me he was going to add about five more appointments to the five I already had scheduled. And so, I got up from the exam table and gave him a big hug. He told me the next appointment he would go in, numb me up, and take the implant out.<br />
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I walked to the parking garage and got into my car. I put the key in the ignition and then the tears started flowing. I was so deeply hurt. I had waited years for my dental implants and I thought it was all going to work out. I was so optimistic. So looking forward to having this all be behind me. I thought for sure the bone would be strong and could withstand the implant. But, I guess God has a different plan.<br />
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As I was driving home I could not help but think of the people undergoing chemotherapy and being told they are in remission. Only to be told, the cancer is back. This really put things in perspective. I mean, come on Pat, your dental implant by your cleft palate did not take and they will have to figure out what Plan B will be. <br />
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I got home and did FaceTime with Colleen. The minute i saw her face, i just cried and cried. After I hung up the phone, I texted my family and friends about the failed implant. I then powered down my phone and my IPad. For two days, I just laid low. I was in mourning and just needed some down time.<br />
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I went to get the mail and saw a bag by our front door. I opened it up and my tears changed to laughter and a huge smile came over my face. It was the perfect gift. My lifelong friend, Pauline, left it for me. She knew this was exactly what I needed. The dammit doll. I would love to whack it against the wall but instead I just said dammit, repeatedly. The doll was so cute, I just could not destroy it.<br />
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So, today is Monday, I powered back on my phone and IPad. My little pity party is over. I'm gonna just go with the flow and appreciate all the things I have. Most importantly, I have family and friends that support me. And, with that in my back pocket, I can face anything. Now, let's see what Plan B is!<br />
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Patricia Simonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18321642310097884734noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6303470708136029008.post-91791033261002660692016-03-02T13:25:00.001-08:002016-03-02T13:25:15.116-08:00Simon Says: Welcome to Simon Says<a href="http://simonsayssmiletoday.blogspot.com/2016/01/welcome-to-simon-says_21.html?spref=bl">Simon Says: Welcome to Simon Says</a>: Hello! Welcome to Simon Says the blog of Patricia Simon. You are at the beginning of my new life as a blogger! It's important to me t...Patricia Simonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18321642310097884734noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6303470708136029008.post-19694069282735463192016-03-02T13:24:00.007-08:002016-03-02T13:24:59.028-08:00Simon Says: My Story<a href="http://simonsayssmiletoday.blogspot.com/2016/02/my-story.html?spref=bl">Simon Says: My Story</a>: My Name is Patricia Simon and I was born with a cleft lip and palate. My first surgery was at 6 months of age. I had speech therapy wh...Patricia Simonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18321642310097884734noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6303470708136029008.post-8018289261733338512016-03-02T13:24:00.005-08:002016-03-02T13:24:41.828-08:00Simon Says: There are unfulfilled needs of adult patients who ...<a href="http://simonsayssmiletoday.blogspot.com/2016/02/there-are-unfulfilled-needs-of-adult.html?spref=bl">Simon Says: There are unfulfilled needs of adult patients who ...</a>: Adult patients continue to have a wide range of problems relating to their cleft. For some patients who have had a cleft lip and/or pal...Patricia Simonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18321642310097884734noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6303470708136029008.post-20634209949300068252016-03-02T13:24:00.003-08:002016-03-02T13:24:23.884-08:00Simon Says: We all have a story to tell so make it a good one!...<a href="http://simonsayssmiletoday.blogspot.com/2016/02/we-all-have-story-to-tell-so-make-it.html?spref=bl">Simon Says: We all have a story to tell so make it a good one!...</a>: I've started this blog so that you can learn about me and my experiences. I was born with a cleft lip and palate. However, that scar doe...Patricia Simonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18321642310097884734noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6303470708136029008.post-14281353632007022292016-03-02T13:24:00.001-08:002016-03-02T13:24:04.404-08:00Simon Says: Everyone needs a little bling in their life!<a href="http://simonsayssmiletoday.blogspot.com/2016/02/everyone-needs-little-bling-in-their.html?spref=bl">Simon Says: Everyone needs a little bling in their life!</a>: I went Tuesday for my appointment to begin the process of getting my dental implants. Dr. Reisberg had told me in advance that this was go...Patricia Simonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18321642310097884734noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6303470708136029008.post-4722147222250039152016-03-02T13:23:00.003-08:002016-03-09T16:46:48.896-08:00Simon Says: It's hard to do something you've never done bef...<a href="http://simonsayssmiletoday.blogspot.com/2016/02/its-hard-to-do-so-something-youve-never.html?spref=bl">Simon Says: It's hard to do something you've never done bef...</a>: I am trying my hand at writing a Children's book and it's been rather hard. My first draft was way too long and had too many positiv...Patricia Simonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18321642310097884734noreply@blogger.com0