Most people do not understand this concept.  Over the years, I have gotten many odd looks and have seen the complete confusion on my visitor’s faces as they point or touch their physically hatless heads.  At times, it’s actually been quite comical and I have often wished I could hear their exact thoughts.  Although I cannot hear what others think, their expression and body language clearly depict these words: “Wipe my feet” or “remove my shoes” I can understand, but “Hang my hat”, has she gone completely insane”?

As a freshman in High School, I had the most amazing English teacher.  She told us a story about a man who would always “hang his hat” before he entered his home.

He had a modest family of 5, worked hard and made an honest living.  Money was always tight, and he barely brought home enough money to put food on the table and keep a roof over their heads.  Yet, somehow he managed to walk through the door after every workday with a smile on his face and his arms outstretched to hug his wife and children.

As they would sit and eat their small meal, he listened intently while his family filled him in on the day’s events.  No matter what they discussed, he would always smile and help with any advise he could.  The children were so full of life, always bursting with energy and excitement despite the lack of nourishment in their stomachs.  If you were looking in through a window, you would never know how “poor” they were.  The content and happiness in their home far exceeded what any dollar amount could bring.

When dinner was completed, Dad would bathe the children and dress them in their bedclothes.  He would then read them a story and tuck them in under the warm and cozy afghans Grandma had so lovingly crocheted.  Once they were fast asleep, he would help his wife finish the last of the dishes then sit beside her in front of the fireplace.

Every evening, she would ask the same question, “How was your day”, and every evening she would receive the same answer, “It was perfect”.  She knew the hard labor his job entailed, she knew the little pay he received and she knew the long, exhausting hours he worked, but yet he would never complain.

As the years progress, naturally the children grew and began families of their own.  The eldest son, now 24 with a wife and 2 children to provide for, returned home for an unexpected visit.  Mom brought him a glass of lemonade and placed it front of him on the kitchen table.  Noticing the concern in his face, she asked how he and his family were doing.  Just as he began to tell her how the factory was closing and the financial crisis he and his family were in, Dad walked through the door.  As usual, Dad was smiling and his arms were outstretched waiting for a hug from his wife.

His son looked at him in amazement, as he began to say, “Dad, you work for the same factory, how can you….”his father put a finger to his lips and asked him not to speak about it in the house.  As father and son walked outside and closed the door, the son was completely speechless.  Once he finally worked up enough courage to break the silence, Dad stopped him once again.  He then pointed to a small tree on the walkway to the house and explained:

“This tree is the entrance to our home.  Every day when I arrive home, I remove my “hat” and place it on this tree.  The removal of my hat signifies the release of all my worries.  After a long day at the factory, I walk to the front door, remove my hat and hang it on this tree.  By doing so, I remove all the worries and stresses of my day.  When I walk in the door, I walk in with no tension of how the bills will be paid, how the children will be clothed or how our next meal will be provided.  I can then place all of my focus on family.  I walk in with open arms and appreciate everything in which we have, while I embrace the warmth and love of our family.  When I awake the next morning and head off to work; I take the hat from the tree and place it back on my head.  With the hat back in place, I will then resume the daily worries.  As every day passes and I head off to work, I leave my family knowing they are worry free.  I then have a fresh start for work and am able to give 100%”.

Again speechless, the son hugged his Dad, got into his car and headed home.  As he exited his car and walked up the walk to his front door, he paused, removed his invisible hat and placed it on a small tree his father had planted years ago when he purchased the home.  He had often wondered why his father had planted that tree, as his yard was well shaded, but now he knew, it was a place to “hang his hat”.  He walked in his front door, smiled and outstretched his arms for his family to embrace him.

The events of the remainder of this story are unknown.  It has been a long, long time (more time than I wish to admit) since I was a freshman in high school, and, quite honestly, I wrote this story myself.  I cannot take full credit for what I have written as “hang your hat” was story my English teacher once told.  I took the moral of this story and ran with it.

If you have read this far, I honestly do not ask people to “hang your hat” before entering my home, yet perhaps I will now.

There are 2 morals to this story, 1. Never bring your work home with you (or vice versa) and 2. Appreciate what you have, regardless of how small it is, or how small you may think it is.  There will always be light at the end of the tunnel, just be sure to “hang your hat” before entering.

This is a very long post, but to fully understand the events of our visit, I couldn’t shorten it any further.

My 17 year-old son had been sick for months.  I had repeatedly taken him to his Primary Care Physician, yet were only able to see the Nurse Practitioner.  The entire experience with this doctor’s office was horrific and I may write more about this in a later post.  At this time, however, instead of writing about everything that went wrong at the doctor’s office, I thought I would go outside the norm and write about the positive experience I encountered in the emergency room.

In order to understand how we ended up in the ER, I will briefly explain my son’s ailment. 

My son, Paul, had been sick for well over a month.  After lab results showed he had Mononucleosis, he developed a lump on the left side of his neck.  Thinking it was a swollen gland due to Mono, I didn’t think too much about it.  One morning, as he was getting ready for school, I took yet another peek at his neck.  To my horror, the once puffy lump on his neck had now turned into a sausage sized tumor-like protrusion down the entire side of his neck.  When I say “sausage”, I am not referring to the little breakfast sausages you eat on Sunday mornings; it was more like a plump Bratwurst ready to explode.  It extended from just under his ear at the jaw line and continued all the way to his collarbone!  Once again I took him back to his PCP and was immediately referred to the Emergency Room.  The doctor told us it was an abscess and needed to be drained.  She gave us a prescription for a CT Scan and sent us on our way.

Paul and I arrived at the hospital around 4:30 PM on a Thursday.  When we walked in, my first thought was “Oh Great, this is going to take forever” as there were quite a few other people waiting.  We went over to the desk and proceeded to check in.  Since Paul had visited this hospital before, his information was already in their computer system.  The check-in process took about 3 minutes.  We then took a seat and waited for his name to be called.

Fifteen minutes had elapsed when Paul was called in to see the Triage Nurse.  She performed the typical blood pressure and temperature check then asked us why we were there.  I explained about Paul’s neck, showed her the prescription for the CT scan and pointed to his neck.  As she glanced at his neck, the look on her face showed horror and concern; she then excused herself to speak to another staff member.  When she returned, she asked someone to take us directly back into the Emergency Room.

We were pleasantly escorted into the actually emergency department and brought to the main desk.  Paul’s paperwork was handed to a staff member and we waited about 2 minutes for her to locate an empty bed for Paul to be placed.  Once the bed was located and the blood pressure & temperature checks were again completed, I took a seat in the chair next to my son’s bed. 

With the position of my chair, the main desk was in clear view and most of the conversations were clearly audible.  The phones were ringing, the intercom system was paging and nurses appeared to be almost running from patient to patient.  Picture the mall or a department store 5 minutes before closing on Christmas Eve, everyone running around franticly; this was the Emergency Room.  The only words I can use to describe it…”Organized Chaos”.  It was what one would typically expect in an Emergency Room.

Since I had a perfect view of the desk, I could see Paul’s chart in the small stack of clipboards waiting for a doctor to retrieve.  The prescription from Paul’s PCP was placed on the top of his chart and made his place in “line” easy to distinguish.  After we had waited a half hour, I could see his case was now second in line. 

I watched as a doctor retrieved the chart on top of Paul’s chart.  As she removed it, the prescription apparently caught her eye.  She did a “double-look’ and briefly read what was written on the prescription.  She then flipped through a few pages on his clipboard, turned and set off to attend to her next patient.

Knowing Paul was next to be seen, I kept my eye on his clipboard and waited to see who would be treating him.  I watched as the doctor who had flipped through his chart a short time before, picked up the clipboard and headed into a sectioned off area.  My first thought was, “Why didn’t she come right over to talk to us”.  Perhaps it is my naivety, but in my past experiences, most emergency room doctors grab the chart then head into the room and ask why you are there.  This doctor took an extra 5 minutes or so to sit and look over the chart before coming to see the patient.

After reviewing Paul’s information, she headed our way.  As she approached, she eluded a very pleasant demeanor.  She was smiling, but not a “happy to see you” smile; it was more of a concerned, “I hope I can help” type of smile.  During her approach, she walked briskly with a confident posture.  Her stride was swift enough to allow her lab coat to open and reveal the expectance of a child.  My immediate thought, “This doctor is going to be a caring, warm doctor who will not just brush off my concerns for my son”.  The tension and fear one feels during this type of visit quickly escaped my body.

She introduced herself as Dr. Kelly and spoke directly to both Paul and I.  Although my son was a few days shy of his 18^th birthday, she treated us as equals and gathered as much information as she could from both of us.  After absorbing everything Paul and I told her, she examined his neck.  The lighting over his bed was dim and she could not examine him as accurately as she would like.  She requested he follow her into an area with better lighting so she could clearly see his ailments.  As a Mom, I followed right behind them.

She removed the small light from the wall and took a look down his throat.  She then asked him to stand and turn his head so she could view the size of the protrusion on his neck.  After viewing, touching and completely inspecting the “lump”, she agreed with the prescription, he would need a CT Scan to find out exactly what we were dealing with.  She wrote a few notes in his chart, excused herself then spoke directly with a nurse.

Almost immediately after her departure, the nurse she spoke with arrived.  He introduced himself as Jason and informed us he would need to draw blood and begin an IV.  Since my son has deep veins and has always had difficulty donating blood, I asked if he could draw from Paul’s hand and not his arm.  He took a look at Paul’s veins and agreed, it would be better and less painful to draw as I suggested.

While he was drawing the samples, he explained the instructions he received from the doctor.  Since they would not know exactly what they were dealing with until the CT Scan, they were testing for any infection which may have been passed into his blood.  This blood test would have to be completed 3 times for accurate results.  He further informed us, Paul would also be placed on an IV and antibiotics would be administered via the IV. 

While we were waiting to head to the CT room, Paul’s blood was collected 2 more times.  Although the first round was collected by Jason, he also had another nurse named Wayne tending to him.  Wayne depicted the same genuine care and concern for my son as Jason and Dr. Kelly. 

Though the wait seemed lengthy for a CT scan, we were kept well informed from the nursing staff of the situation.  Apparently there was an automobile accident and the CT room was placed on hold due to life or death situations.  Not wanting us to wait indefinitely, Jason even attempted to get us into a non-emergency CT room to shorten our visit.

At approximately 10:00 PM, a young woman approached us.  She explained she was the technician in the CT room.  She asked if Paul was okay to walk, then escorted us for his tests.  As we walked, she explained the procedure and asked Paul if he’d had this test performed before.  He had, but she still explained the events of the exam and what he should expect.  He would be having two scans, one of his sinuses and one of his neck. 

The tests were brief, only lasting 10 minutes before we returned to Paul’s bed.  We were told it would take 20 to 30 minutes for the results to be transcribed and sent to Dr. Kelly. 

Naturally, I kept one eye on my son and one eye on the clock.  At 10:45, Dr. Kelly returned and informed us she had received the results of the sinus scan, but was still waiting on the neck scan.  She said the results of the neck scan had been read and dictated, however they seemed to be “lost in cyber space” between the radiologist and the ER.  She assured us, she was doing everything in her power to obtain the results.  She even called the radiology department with her concerns and they were sending over a staff member to assist.

Shortly after 11, she got the results.  Before she even approached Paul’s bed, I could see from her expression it was good news.  She looked directly at both of us after viewing the results and smiled.  She immediately walked over (still smiling) and said, “I have the best possible news I can give you”.  The results came back showing Paul had a swollen Lymph Node in his neck and not an abscess.  She continued to explain the reasons for her initial concern.  Typically when Lymph Nodes swell, they swell evenly and symmetrically on both sides of the neck.  Since Paul was only swollen on one side of his neck, they had good reason for concern.

As she wrote out a prescription for an antibiotic, she stressed the importance of watching for other side effects of Mono.  She also informed Paul he should be extra careful with any contact sports and to keep an eye on his abdomen for any swelling or tenderness.  She said if we have any concerns or problems, to please come back and have them examined.

We finally exited the LRMC Emergency Room at 11:55 PM.  Although it was a very long, exhausting visit, the staff in the ER constantly kept us updated.  The extra care and concern exhibited by every staff member we were in contact with assured me I had taken my son to the right place.

As I mentioned previously, any visit to an Emergency Room is a frightening experience.  If you find ever find yourself on an unexpected trip to LRMC ER, I hope you have the same genuine, caring staff I encountered on my visit.

On a final note, with all the quickly moving staff members, I was not able to get a clear view of the nursing staff’s nametags.  Please accept my apologies if I have incorrectly spelled any names.

If you have been following the disappearance of Caylee Anthony, undoubtedly, you have the same worries as I.  I worry this child has met a most undeserved fate, but there is hope as no lifeless body has been recovered.

In reading the local news, the timeline seems sketchy and questionable.  Caylee was missing for a month, yet no one reported her missing!  In this day and age, one must wonder how this could happen.  There are so many different theories flying around the Internet, the water coolers and the airwaves; one can only hope and pray this beautiful child is alive and well.

In all this injustice, my hope is the supposed “Nanny” wasn’t really a Nanny at all.  I hope the “Nanny” was a private adoption in which her biological mother had agreed, but is too embarrassed to admit.  I hope Caylee is alive and well, living with another family who adores her as she should be adored.  I hope her biological mother was out parting because she knew Caylee was with a loving, deserving family.  I hope this will end with finding Caylee, happy and content with her new family.  As much as one can hope and pray, the thoughts of why her mother has been arrested so many times still lingers on.

Personally, I can’t fathom the thought of hurting another human being, never mind a child.  Her mother has been through countless hours of questioning; if she hasn’t cracked yet, she either is completely innocent, completely insane or, hopefully, protecting child and the adoptive family.

If this sweet, beautiful and innocent child is found without a beat in her heart, I hope who ever is responsible not only has to live with what they have done, the guilt, pain and endless suffering they deserve, but also spends the rest of lives hearing the cold beat of their shameless, cruel heart slowly pumping away as they perish in prison!

Inevitably, the truth will come out in the end, it always does.  Please keep Caylee in your prayers and hearts as this investigation continues.

If you have any information on the whereabouts of Caylee, please contact your local authorities or the Orange County Missing Person’s Unit at 407-863-HELP (4357).  The toll-free Crime Line is 1-800-423-TIPS (8477).

LET’S BRING THIS CHILD HOME!

How Smart Is Yahoo?

place to ask questions and seek advice.  The answers and advice you receive are not from the staff employed by Yahoo but from everyday people around the globe.  It wasn’t until my son came home with flash burn in his eyes that I actually used the site myself.

Apparently, my 17-year-old son thought he was “cool” enough to weld his friend’s exhaust without wearing the proper eye protection.  His side of the story… the welding helmet he had only offered a very small window to see through.  Regardless of the actual events, he had a horrific case of flash burn in his eyes.

Before I made the trip to the emergency room, I decided to ask about flash burn on Yahoo answers.  I was blown away by the amount of responses I received in only 2 minutes!  After my son’s eyes were properly examined, treated and he was fast asleep with potatoes on his eyes, I decided to explore this site further.

Any and every question you can think of has been asked and answered.  The range of questions is astounding.  Some people ask for advise on relationships, recipes and health, while others ask for specific information on vehicles, businesses and pet care.  As I was exploring, I noticed about half of the questions seemed to be from teenagers.  Some were seeking help with homework and puberty, but the majority wanted feedback on their looks…even posting pictures of themselves.

There are 3 basic sections of Yahoo answers.  A section to “ask” where you post your question; a section to “answer” where you post your answer to a question and a section to “discover” where you can read questions which have been asked and resolved.  Since I didn’t have another question to ask, I opted to click “answer” to see if perhaps I could assist someone with a problem.  I found myself completely addicted!  I was sharing advice, my views on different topics and even posting some of my own personal experiences with complete strangers.  Before I knew it, it was 4am so I logged off and headed to bed.

The next morning, as I sipped my first cup of coffee, I found myself logging back into the site…I was as hooked to Yahoo answers as a hungry fish is to a fresh worm. Throughout the next few weeks, I logged in 3 or 4 times a day to share my advice and thoughts.  As the days passed and the newness of this addiction faded, I logged in less frequently, but still at least once a day. Once a day, that is, until last evening.

As my guests left earlier than expected, I settled onto the couch with my laptop and once again logged in.  I performed a few searches on various items I am somewhat knowledgeable about, but found no new questions that peaked my interest.  I began reading the most recently asked questions and gave my 2 cents on a few questions.  During this time, I came across a question someone asked about funny advice.  My curiosity got the better of me and I read the entire question.  They were asking for funny advice…as in funny, ironic statements.  This question had many responses, some were old clichés, some were rude and involved 4-letter words and some were unmentionable.  I briefly thought about it and opted to give my funny advice…”Never take a sleeping pill and laxative in the same night”.  It is an old one, but still funny and true in it’s own right.  I went on to continue answering some more questions and shared more personal experiences.  During this time, Mike and I were chit chatting and I told him about the aforementioned question as well as my response.  He suggested I edit my answer and add one of his favorites….”Fat people are hard to kidnap”.  This phrase was something we had received and printed on a t-shirt.  We both chuckled and I added his suggestion.

Please don’t take this the wrong way, Mike and I are the most down to earth, fun loving people.  Neither of us have a prejudice bone in our bodies and have many friends of various colors, sizes, shapes, orientation, beliefs, etc.  As long as you are a true person, you are welcomed into our lives and home.

Once again, I looked at the clock and headed to bed at about 2 am.  When I awoke this morning, I followed my usual routine…coffee in one hand and laptop on my lap.  I attempted to log into Yahoo answers to view any feedback on my advice, but was greeted with the following:

“Hello Tracey

You have posted content to Yahoo! Answers in violation of our Community Guidelines or Terms of Service.  As a result, your account has been suspended.

If you feel you were not in violation, please contact our Customer Care and tell us why.

Regards,
Yahoo! Customer Care”

Naturally, I emailed “customer care” asking what I could have done to yield this result.  After hours of waiting, I finally got this email:

In order to investigate this issue, we will need the Yahoo! ID that you
use on the Yahoo! Answers site.

This information will help us to assist you. We apologize for any
inconvenience.

Thank you again for contacting Yahoo! Answers. Your case number for this
issue is XXXXXXXX. Please reference it in all future communication about
this particular issue.

Regards,

(Actual Name)

Yahoo! Customer Care

XXXXXXXX

For assistance with all Yahoo! services please visit: (website)“

I supplied them with all the requested information and again asked what I did to cause this result.  The only

thing I can come up with is the “Fat people are hard to kidnap” response.  Again, after hours of waiting I finally got a response, here is what it said:

Once an account is disabled for a violation of the Terms of Service, the
subscriber to the account will lose the ability to log in and access the
account and its contents (including email and content stored with any
other Yahoo! service). The account also will not be reactivated.

Should you choose to create a new Yahoo! account, we invite you to read
the Yahoo! Terms of Service and Yahoo! Community Guidelines to help
ensure your new account is not deactivated.

Yahoo! Terms of Service:

http://info.yahoo.com/legal/us/yahoo/utos/utos-173.html

Yahoo! Community Guidelines:

http://answers.yahoo.com/info/community_guidelines.php

Thank you again for contacting Yahoo! Answers. Your case number for this
issue is XXXXXXXX. Please reference it in all future communication about
this particular issue.

Regards,

(actual name, yet different name than previous email)”

Once again, they did not tell me what I did to deserve the “tos”!  I feel like a child being punished but not

That's What A Guy Vito I Know Says

knowing why.  Would you ever punish your child or anyone and ignore them when they asked what they did?  How can one correct the problem, or defend their actions without knowing exactly what they did wrong?

Another point one should note…though they penalize me and completely delete my account without explanation, in the same email, they inform me I could create another account and continue to ask, answer and discover.  In the words of Garth from Wayne’s World….”As If”!

Has anyone had a similar experience?  Was I wrong to post the funny advice I posted?  I’d love your feedback and comments.

After a few hours of weighing the pros and cons of allowing this, we decided to allow him access as a contributor to our site.  We also told him anything and everything he posts will have to go through our approval before we will publish his comments.  One can never be too careful nowadays.

After granting him access, I pretty much went on with my day and didn’t think too much about it.  When I logged into the blog this evening, there was a post awaiting approval.  It was the Phantom telling Lakeland who he is and what he is all about.  I approved his post and thought I had better explain in my own blog about the day’s events.

If you are familiar with blogging and SEO, you are aware that any post, which is duplicated in another post, is considered “duplicate content”.  Duplicate content is frowned upon in the SEO world.  The Phantom has agreed he will not post on any other site for this reason.  Why he chose us is beyond me.

He has agreed to post at least once a week and will not give any personal information regarding the people he encounters during his visits.  Before allowing any posting, I will be going through his writing with a fine-tooth comb; any names will be changed to “Jane” or “John” or any other common name I can come up with.

To be honest, I am looking forward to the first blog the Phantom sends for approval.  Hopefully this will turn out to be a popular “weekly column” and not just the ravings of a lunatic.  Only time will tell.