Killing Two Birds With One Blog

- I DIDN'T AGREE TO THIS -

Little did I know that when I accepted the position at the VA, I also accepted to wear this lovely uniform. Hard to believe that they have the people handling all the boxes with the supplies wear white pants. You can see it in the eyes of all the nurses we deal with that they think lesser of us because we wear them or maybe they know that we really have the better job. Sure they make a few dollars more then us, but our job is so much easier. It doesn't bother me. I actually like it. I love the reactions I get when I talk to a nurse and they realise I'm not some dumb supply guy.

The job is actually going well. It is going to take time to learn everything, but that goes with any new job. I can tell you exactly who the other guys are that tried to get the job. It is very hard for them to tell me how to do something. I am sure it pisses them off that they are showing their supervisor how to do stuff. Besides my feet are killing me (they aren't use to me being on them all day) I think this will be a good job. It is really nice that I have five different insurance companies to choose from.

- SO MUCH FOR A BUDGET -

So the kitchen is actually almost done. It has been a lot of work but it is turning out really nice. Friday night as I was attempting to finish hooking up our new sink I had to shut off our water while I changed out a part. As I was turning the knob it snapped off.

It was 9:45 p.m. So I ran to Home Depot to get a a new part. I was hoping I could just change out the insides of the valve and be done with it. It didn't work. The valve was too old so it needed to be changed. As I sat there that night at midnight I was thinking it wouldn't be that hard. As I laid in bed that night tossing and turning I realised this was a little beyond my skill level. I woke up the next morning and called a plumbing company to come fix it.

One hour and $230 dollars later it was fixed.

Lost in Translation

Many of you have asked, "Why am I not Invited to see your blog?" The easy answer is to try and respect my former employer.

Last Thursday as I was about to post my blog about getting a new job, The Misses asked if my Boss had ever read my blog? I told her that he has never read it. His wife has read it a few times, but only when I had pulled it up for her to read. I thought it was a little weird that she asked. I really didn't think I had said anything in the blog that would make them upset. I tried to explain in the blog how much they meant to me and how hard it was for me to leave.

Friday morning I woke up and went to work early. I have been trying to collect money from homeowners, and they don't seem to want to answer the phone when I call. So I went to work an hour and a half early to see if maybe I could catch some people home before they went to work. After I made my phone calls I read through the blog again and posted it. Later that morning I had an inspection, as I was driving there I got a phone call from my Boss. What I understood from the phone call was that the corporate office had a lady that sat and monitored every offices Internet activity. She had called them and let them know about my blog. He wanted me to come back to the office so we could figure out how my job could be less dreadful. I told him that it was fine and not to read to much into the blog (really most of it is fluff).

Throughout the rest of the day I was pretty upset. Not that they had read the blog, but that they had some lady monitoring what I did on the Internet (this is what I understood). When I got back to the office my boss wasn't there so I wrote a quick blog about how they were watching over my shoulder. I expressed my dissatisfaction in it and posted it. A few minutes later my Boss came in and we finally had a talk.

He explained to me how this lady was hired by the corporate offices PR department and that any time someone post the name of the company on the Internet, they are notified. He was really upset that I had wrote how dreadful work was, and how hey were not talking to me. He also talked to me about when someone leaves a job. He used the analogy of someone dying, and that when that happens you go through seven stages of emotions. I understood what he was saying, and was glad he let me know finally how he was feeling. I was upset that when they had read my blog, what they took from it, or what stuck out in there mind was how work is dreadful. Not all the other things I said about how great of people they are.

He also said that he believed when they took out my colon they took out my integrity with it. This really got to me........ It is still to hard for me to go into more details.

All in all I think it was good we finally talked. My Boss is a great man and I have learned so much from him. As soon as I got home I went online and blocked my blog from anyone being able to see it. I wanted to take out the companies name and write a blog trying t explain what happened. I didn't want to write it then with all the emotions I had so I waited. I hope they understand that my blog had no malice in its intent. I will miss my time with them. I have grown up with them, and am glad I had my Boss as a great example to follow.

and now it's time to move on.

Time to move on

Big changes are happening at the Taylor household. Not only are we moving along on our kitchen remodel, but I have been offered a new job. For as long as I can remember I have been working at the restoration company. My boss and his wife have treated me more like a son then an employee. The big problem, is because it's such a small business they can't offer insurance or retirement benefits, the larger of the two is the lack of insurance. We all know how much I need medical insurance. When the reserves medically release me, the insurance I have right now will more then likely go with it. As you have probably figured out this is not a good situation.

A couple of months ago a head hunter called me and wanted me to interview for a general managers position at another restoration company. I told them at that time there was no way I would leave my company for another restoration company. I really did feel that way. I have had other offers while I have been out meeting other restoration companies. Most of them would have payed me more, but my boss has been too good for me to leave.

While I was deployed at Landstuhl Regional Medical Center I truly loved the work I was doing. I didn't necessarily love taking care of my kids (the Soldiers in my section), but supporting the hospital was one of those feel good jobs. As soon as I got back from my deployment I started looking for a logistics job within a hospital. Finally last month a job opened up at the VA Hospital here in Salt Lake. The job description was essentially the same as what I was doing at Landstuhl, a lead position in a logistics section. I didn't think I would get the job but applied anyway. I suspected that they would hire from within the VA due to experience. During the interview my suspicion was confirmed. The lady told me that they were looking at four applicants and I was the only one from the "outside" being considered. As I left the office I truly believed I wouldn't get the job.

Thinking I was not going to get the job made it easier for me to sleep at night. I was terrified to tell my boss I had a job interview. If you did not know my boss he seems to be the nicest guy on the planet and in many ways he is, but once you get to know him and all the nuances that he has when he is upset, you would know why I was concerned to tell him. Looking back I probably should have told him I was looking for another job. My concern was he and his wife don't take that kind of news very well. They have a way of letting you know they are displeased without even talking to you. I couldn't bare dealing with that for a large amount of time, so I choose to keep quite.

The Friday after the interview I received a phone call from the VA. They offered me the position! Feelings of joy and terror went through my body. I was happy they had chosen me. It was just the job I was looking for. A logistics job in a hospital and to top it off, it was a federal job, oh the benefits! The terror was right there with the happiness. I had no ideas how to tell my boss I had accepted the position. The next few nights I tossed and turned in bed. I thought that maybe I had made the wrong decision. My boss was going to be pissed! The next couple of days at work I tried mustering up the courage to tell him. Every time I went to do it I chickened out. I had lost my appetite and wasn't sleeping. My family and I had the same thought, I could not turn this opportunity down.

Finally at lunch on the second day I bit the bullet and sat down in my bosses office. He turned from his computer. I was sick to my stomach, but had to tell him. I explained that he and his wife were like a second family to me, but this position at the VA was to good to pass up. His face went red and that vein on his forehead popped out. He listen to me and finally asked "when do you start?" I told him two and a half weeks. He turned around and went back to work on the computer. It has been a week and that was the last thing he really said to me. He has asked a few things about the last of my jobs, but nothing else. His wife hasn't said a word. Nothing, not a good morning, a good night, not a peep. As I sit typing, the place is silent. You could cut the tension with a knife. Luckily only a few more days of this. I thought I had a hard time coming to work before, but now it is dreadful. I have enjoyed working for the restoration company, my boss and his wife are good people, some of the best I have ever met. They have taken good care of me, but it is time for a change. I am very excited for the new job. Of course there is a nervousness that comes with it. I am a little worried the three people that interviewed for the job will hold a grudge. I will have to rely on my leadership qualities to make this situation work. I've been in this situation before in the military, and have made it through.

I should probably get back to collecting money from my jobs. This is my only responsibility until I leave. I really don't know how collection agents can do this all day.

Making me look like a fool

I really don't know how he did it but there you have it The Misses exterior light. Okay so it is just the rough-in portion, but everything is there to make our backyard light up when we flip a switch. When I removed the window and installed the door The Misses got it in her head that she wanted a light for outside the door. Of course she tells me this after I had repaired the drywall, installed the trim, and painted. From the very notion of the light I had said "absolutely not". I told her that I would have to cut out large sections of drywall and it wasn't worth the hassle.

It isn't that I don't know how to repair holes in drywall. I think it was 13 years ago that I was taught how to make a drywall repair. I think it is the only time in my life that I let my emotions get the best of me. I don't know what my girlfriend and I was talking about, but something set me off. We were sitting in my parents family room having a heated discussion about something. I remember getting up to get away from the situation and as I left the room I tapped the wall. I really must not have known my own strength because my hand went right in the wall. To make matters worse my Pops had just finished painting that area a few months before. I knew I was in trouble but instead of beating my ass, Pops just used this as a learning experience. He went through the details to patch the wall, but made me do all the work.

Who would have know 13 years later I would be installing a wall in my house using everything he had taught me. I still feel bad about the hole, to this day if you look hard enough at the wall you can see the awful patch job I did. Luckily my skills have gotten a little better, but I wouldn't have had a clue what to do if it wasn't for that little burst of emotion.

Since we were already tearing drywall out and making patches for our new kitchen, I decided The Misses could have her light. When the Electrician was finished he made me look like a fool. Not one hole. When I asked him how he did it, all he could say was "it's a trade secret". Trade secrete or magic I don't care, all I know is he saved my walls from being peppered with horrible drywall patches.

A quest to finally get a dishwasher!

So there you have it, our crappy little kitchen. The Misses an I knew exactly what we were getting into when we bought our little house in the Ghetto. Now that we have a fence it is time to move onto the kitchen. For the last year and a half we have been doing the dishes by hand everyday, and for the last year and a half we have been complaining about it everyday. Now that the Misses is in school full time, working full time, and being a Sergeant part time I seem to be stuck doing all the dishes all the time. This has made the quest for the dishwasher all that more important.

The size of our kitchen makes it so that only one person can be in it at a time to cook (which is really no big deal. Com'on seriously, what couple out their really cooks together?). Getting a dishwasher in this small space has made us get creative with the layout. Right now it is a classic "U" shape, but the size allows no room for a dishwasher. We have thought about just one of those roll-a-way models, but there is no where to store it. So to the drawing board I went. I finally decided to tear out the peninsula, this allowed for a dishwasher to sit next to the sink. But that left us with even less of the precious counter and cabinet space. The remedy for this is cabinets and counter where the railing for our stairs is.

Okay so tear out a few cabinets and install some in another place. No big deal right? Wrong. This means new flooring, new appliances, removing that stupid soffit above the upper cabinets, lights, a new door and....oh yeah and an electrician to wire for a dishwasher (and The Misses exterior light I told her would never happen. Amazing how she ends up getting everything she wants). Luckily I can do most of the work, and that which is to much for me I know someone that can do it for a good price.

And so it begins, my quest for a dishwasher.

Yes Pops, that is your saw (in case you are looking for it).

Great Christmas Presents!

I never grew up around guns. My Pops has never been one to go out hunting for the occasional beast. He has been known to have said "Once you have hunted humans, a helpless deer just isn't much fun." It really doesn't bother me. It isn't like we needed that to help us bond. We have always had a great relationship. I can remember Cousin Josh finding out that Pops didn't own a gun. He just could not understand why. I have always enjoyed shooting. Growing up I spent many hours behind Aunt Cheryl's house with Josh looking for birds. To be honest I don't remember me ever killing one, Josh on the other hand was a Killing Machine. I am sure with as much time as we spent out in that field I would have at least hit one, but the memory of it has faded.

Besides the Red Rider BB gun, the only guns I have owed was the ones the Army had issued to me, and unfortunately they frown on Soldiers taking them home to practice with. About two weeks before Christmas this year The Misses and I had our friends Little Dickie and his wife over to watch a fight and have a few pops. I don't know what got me on the subject (to be honest I don't remember really saying it. Of course I don't remember a lot of things), but I decided I really wanted them to know I wanted a hand gun. I have always wanted one, but couldn't see me spending that much money. I guess that night I went on and on how I wanted a .40 caliber handgun. "I wanted more stopping power then a 9mm, but didn't want a gun that would go through quit so many walls as a .45 ......." I supposedly made quit a fuss.

Little did I know The Misses had in fact went out with Little Dickie and purchased me just what I had wanted, a .40 Caliber Heckler and Koch killing, I mean protecting device. After I got over the fact that she went WAY, WAY, WAY over her $50 budget. I truly couldn't have been happier.

A few weekends ago The Misses and I signed up for a Concealed Carry Weapons Permit class. We both have been around weapons in the military. But anyone with such a deadly device should take every class they can to learn more about them (that's our humble opinion). I had searched the Internet and there were about 200 people qualified to teach the class. I started to inquire and came across Welden Anderson (aka Gun Master). His class seemed to take things one step further then the rest. So we signed up.

You can tell Gun Master was in the military by his emails. Very structured, with and emphasis on punctuation. The class started at 0800 sharp. He began the class by going through all the class that he has taken:

- Utah Certified Firearms Instructor
- Police Academy graduate
- FBI Citizens Academy graduate
- Provo SWAT (Threat Management Group)
trained in Edged Weapons Defense I, II
- Counter-Terrorism Institute of America
trained in Tactical Pistol
- And about 15 other classes, always quick to point out he was the Distinguished Honor Graduate for most of the classes. When I say this guy lays in bed at night thinking about blowing someone away, I mean it. If I was ever in an area where there was an active shooter I would want this guy in the area too. He started showing us his guns and where he cared them (notice I used the plural form of this). A full size .40 caliber Glock on his right hip, a .40 caliber mini Glock on his right butt, and a knife in his left pocket. When we asked if he carried a gun on his ankle he went into a rant about not giving away your hand in poker (so yes, a gun on his ankle). To make a long story shorter, lets just say he is a bit out of control.

The class was great. He went through the laws and as many scenarios as he could in the 8 hr class. The bottom line of his class could be summed up by; If you pull out your hand gun for any reason, pull out your check book with the other hand cause its going to cost you no matter what. At the end of the class was supposed to be the time we went up on the range to fire. I was really looking forward to some teaching from someone other than the army. Unfortunately it was getting late and The Misses and I had to get home. So we didn't get the opportunity.

A week or so later we went together and fired the hand gun. I am not as good as the Gun Master but with practice Eagle Eye Taylor will be even deadlier.

P.S. I would like to thank The Misses brother The Missionary for supplying us with the target. As soon as The Misses opened her Christmas Present I knew exactly how we could use it (either as a door mat to wipe our feet, or a target).

CNA's should be paid much, much more

I know, you all are asking what has he been up to? Well, for the past two days I have been laying in the hospital bed playing a patient. I got a little stomach bug that did a number to me. I really didn't see it coming. Tuesday morning I woke up and my stomach was acting a little weird, eight hours later and 20 BM's I was at my second home St. Marks Hospital. I am fine now, a little groggy, really bored and really missing Jeter (oh yah and The Misses).
It's amazing how quick I know, usually within one sentence how good or not so good a nurse is. Now don't think this is going to be a bag on nurses piece. As you should know by now I have great respect for anyone that takes care of the sick. But some are just better with their bedside manners than others. Once I am assessed by a nurse they can see I am going to be an "easy" patient. This means I can get up by myself, I'm not going to press the nurses button for anything other then my IV pump is empty, I don't complain about how shitty I feel..... I am easy (okay so there was that whole Bacterial Meningitis thing, but I truly wasn't coherent for a good deal of that time). Right off the bat the nurses that are assigned to watch over me can see I am "easy" so I don't see much of them.
Having said all that there are the nurses who truly care. Maybe they are just better at showing it, because I'm sure most nurses care or why would they be there. They still don't pay much attention but when they do their mind seems to be only on me and not the drug addicted naked guy that is streaking past my door. They take their time and assess what is going on, then it on to the next patient. At the end of their shift they stop in for one more check and see if there is something they have missed. Others may say goodnight as they are walking past the door with the cell phone to their ears and eyes focused on the door. I have no doubt that The Misses falls in the first category of these nurses. At least that's what gives me hope that's the reason she is always late is because she is taking care of patients and not banging a Doctor in the supply closet as Grays Anatomy would lead everyone to believe.
The bottom line is nurses I understand, I get. CNA's on the other hand are people I will never understand why they do what they do. For those of you that don't spend much time in the hospital CNA's are the nurses muscles. For the most part they are the ones getting patients up to go the bathroom, showering, and getting drinks. Here's the thing I don't get. I have never met an ornery CNA. If I was the CNA that had to take care of me, and remember I am easy. If after every time I used the bathroom I had to come in and write down how much and consistency I would be ornery. Let a lone if I had to take care of all the hard patients. To top it all off they don't make squat! All I have to say is god bless them. There is a lot of things I would do for money, but there is no way I could do that and stay happy. Let a lone look the patient in the eye after.