Drive me crazy...

Remeber when you were small and a trip from say Corvallis to Portland seemed like a lifetime?? Like it was some kind of cruel punishment your parents would dole out to you, only you had no clue as to what for. "It's going to take OVER and HOUR?! I can't even count that high! Noooooooo!" If a car ride was over thirty minutes long, it was usually met with feet stomping, shoes flying, outright protests from me. No thank you, I'll pass. In my defense, I DID get super car sick back in the day...something I, thankfully, grew out of.

I remember my grandfather used to say how much he liked driving. He'd drive across the country to New York every year to visit family and friends.........I thought he was insane. "You drive WHERE?! New york is on the other side of the WORLD! You are CRAZY."

Now I don't plan on hopping in my car tomorrow and roadtripping across the USofA...BUT...times have changed, I've noticed. I really, actually, love driving. It helps clear my head. I do so much thinking when I have to take a trip somewhere. My car is like my own little sanctuary where I get to do / think / sing / say whatever in the heck I want and not one single person will see or hear me (unless, of course, I'm rocking out to a particularly wonderful song...in which case, it's your own fault for watching me). My class that I'm in right now is in Albany...and I'm finding myself (should I be admitting this?) enjoying the daily drive. It's nearly 40 minutes round trip....sometimes longer. 40 minutes of just solitude. 40 minutes where my life is kinda slow and peaceful....

It probably says something about me that I have to find relaxation on a daily commute. But I do. And...I really love it.  Most of the time I turn off the music and just.......think.

What in the world could I possibly have to ponder over for 40 minutes every day you ask?! ha. everything. nothing. life. My brain goes a zillion miles an hour....even while I'm sleeping (seriously, ask me about my dreams sometime and you won't be disappointed). It is always thinking...always full of questions. It's like I never grew out of that "why!?" phase that toddlers go through, but instead of being obnoxious about it and actually voicing my questions outloud...I internalize them...journal them...and contemplate them on car trips. :)

I ask why A LOT. Why do things happen the way that they do?

I think about other people a lot, as well. My friends....family. The people that I admire so much. The people who inspire me. I feel so grateful to know, and be close with, such a wide range of people.  It helps me learn and realize who it is that I actually want to be....

I think about the people that have made such huge impacts on me that I may never again talk to. How does that happen? I met this patient this past week, who was honestly one of the nicest men I've ever met. When we bring patients down from the floors to have surgery, they are first brought into whats called the holding room, or anesthesia work room. The idea is that they can be interviewed there by their nurse / anesthesiologist, and then be whisked away to dreamland in their assigned OR. The process, ideally, should really only take around 15 minutes from the time they're wheeled in, to the time they head to their actual room. Naturally, we don't always like doing things the idealistic way, so Mr. NiceGuy (if you will) ended up in our holding area for quite a long time....and I got 'stuck' babysitting (which, believe me, can sometimes be a real chore). This guy though.......as reluctant as I sometimes am to talk to people in the dreaded holding room, he had me captivated from the moment I introduced myself. He told me stories about his world travels....about meeting the love of his life....about the daughter they adopted, and about her life as an adult...the people he'd met, the house that he lived in, etc. By the end of our conversation I was teary eyed and holding both his hands. "Go for your dreams," he said.

I'll likely never see him again (not because of a bad surgery...I just mean that he's probably gone home, hopefully to never enter our doors again).

Isn't that so weird though?? This man....who (this is terrible to admit), I'm not even sure I can remember his full name....this man made SUCH an impact on me...only to be in my life for ONE day.

I hope I can be like that to someone someday. That man was inspiring.

I think about things like that a lot in my car.....Mr. NiceGuy. :)

PICTURES

This was waaaaay back in the day. My grandfather that liked driving. Me in a fancy dress. Clearly I was ready for a birthday.

Driving.....

AND JUST FOR FUN!!!!! :)

I made a headband...it's for my sista. She doesn't know it yet, so I hope she doesn't read this...but if you do - Kelly this is for you! Love you! See ya tomorrow!

And my tiny friend, Kate with her brother (the dog, of course), Jack. We all went to the beach this weekend. By the time we took her back to the car, her front pocket was FILLED with rocks and seashells. Very smart, miss kate.

That's all. Thanks for letting me journal...it's more fun to type it out sometimes....

Wherever you go, go with all your heart...

Song of the week: White Flag, Dido