I'm taking this research class right now as part of my graduate program at Utah State. It is probably one of the most torturous classes I have ever taken part of. Don't get me wrong, I'm all about education, but this class has just pushed me over the edge. It's a 3 hour class, once a week, on how to conduct, write, and critique research. If I could grant every reader one wish, I would wish that they would never have to take this class as long as they live! agh. However, in all situations there is always something to be learned. Here are 5 things I've learned at least so far...
1) I never want to get my Doctorate
2) I will never let a professor take my research and use it as an example, no matter how good I think it is!
3) No matter how many parental opinions I hear, I will not believe that Autism is caused by immunizations until they have reliable studies to back it up.
4) You can't believe what you hear on the news.
5)Even a baby in the womb can become board in a research class!
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Utah State Fair Fun
Cute little Jackson loved the fair!
This was a huge steer at the fair! It's shoulders were 6 feet tall! The black cow is your everyday cow. It was seriously like a horse! We did not even have to pay a dollar!
Wouldn't be a fair without a crazy clown!
You should have seen how scared we were to get this close!
The Prize winning cow at the fair just because he had the most meat on him! I felt his pain.
Wouldn't be a fair without a crazy clown!
You should have seen how scared we were to get this close!
The Prize winning cow at the fair just because he had the most meat on him! I felt his pain.Spencer wasting his money, he was sure he would win!
Sunday, September 6, 2009
A watermelon through my nostril! I can do this! (gulp)
Mitch and I went to our monthly doctor's appointment on friday (I absolutely love it when he comes). Anyhow, once the doctor finally came I open fired. That is I asked him a million questions (this happens every time I go so he's used to it). This week it was questions about the Flu. After a long conversation he explained that he had a flu shot available and he would like to give it to me. Seeing how i've been coughed on by a bunch of kids all week at school I agreed. As the nurse shoved a peanut butter consistency through my arm through what must have been a dull needle I couldn't help but think "lets quadruple this pain and shove it into my spinal cord for an epidural". What the Heck am I doing. Epidural? or a watermelon through my nostril (think creative with that one)? What would I rather do? I know what a needle feels like, and for some reason the watermelon is sounding better! I mean, I heard that being pregnant makes you think crazy thoughts, but you know perhaps i'm finally thinking clearly! I just have to think of it as a 800 meter conference championship in 100 degrees. I did it, it hurt, I threw up, I couldn't walk or see straight, but I was glad I did it in the end. What's one watermelon through a nostril? gulp. Good grief I only have 3 more months to prepare for this race. Does anyone have any good mental imagery books, cause I sure am going to need it! Suddenly one kid is sounding better than 6! :)
Friday, August 21, 2009
A Real Mans Trophy!
I've always seen myself as the type of mom who when their child does a great j
ob on a paper, or won a participation medal in a 5k there would be no doubt it would be placed somewhere in the house where everyone could see it! But when Mitch picked up his Trophy Elk from the taxidermy I was completely torn. You should have seen him, he was Beaming! As each car drove by us on the freeway I saw him slighly look to see each ones reaction. Some, like me, were grossed out, while others (mostly men) would give him that manly head nod that said, "nice". It was as if this dead animal proclaimed "I Was Shot By A Real Man"!
To my own defense though, I do support his silly hunting ways, I cooked and ate that tough meat for a year and a half after he shot it. But do I really want it mounted in my front room so it can stare at my every move and frighten young children as they walk into the house?? No, I really don't. It's not like I can put it on the fridge or even on the mantle as we only have 10 foot ceilings and the elk is about 7 feet from chest to antlers! I w
ould be afraid it would lick people as it looked into 
their eyes. Thankfully, Mitchell is a smart man and could see that it simply would not be happy in our home. So, if you would like to come and see it, it is happily mounted in his Dad's garage on Mutton Hollow just waiting for the day that we build a big cabin for it to live in!
ob on a paper, or won a participation medal in a 5k there would be no doubt it would be placed somewhere in the house where everyone could see it! But when Mitch picked up his Trophy Elk from the taxidermy I was completely torn. You should have seen him, he was Beaming! As each car drove by us on the freeway I saw him slighly look to see each ones reaction. Some, like me, were grossed out, while others (mostly men) would give him that manly head nod that said, "nice". It was as if this dead animal proclaimed "I Was Shot By A Real Man"!To my own defense though, I do support his silly hunting ways, I cooked and ate that tough meat for a year and a half after he shot it. But do I really want it mounted in my front room so it can stare at my every move and frighten young children as they walk into the house?? No, I really don't. It's not like I can put it on the fridge or even on the mantle as we only have 10 foot ceilings and the elk is about 7 feet from chest to antlers! I w
ould be afraid it would lick people as it looked into 
their eyes. Thankfully, Mitchell is a smart man and could see that it simply would not be happy in our home. So, if you would like to come and see it, it is happily mounted in his Dad's garage on Mutton Hollow just waiting for the day that we build a big cabin for it to live in!
Sunday, August 16, 2009
From Runner to Shuffler... a hard realization.
I had a friend ask if she could stay the night at my house the other night. Naturally, i said of coarse. But before the conversation ended i thought "I should have her bring her running shoes so we can go for a run" then I thought, "nah, she'd probably go too slow". Upon hanging up and looking down at my stomach, a rude awakening came to my mind..."Stacie, your a pregnant woman with a gut! You don't even run anymore! You shuffle down the road! People probably laugh at your sad attempt at exercise as you scoot on by! You are not a runner, YOUR A SHUFFLER!"A SHUFFLER! THAT IS WHAT I HAVE BECOME! A ROUNDED SHUFFLER WHO NOW HAS A NEED FOR THOSE SILLY SPORTS BRA'S SHE HAS ALWAYS WORN! Lets face it, i barely pick up my feet. I mean, do I even have to move my legs above the knees as i shuffle along (i'll have to check on that). A shuffler, a shuffler, my great aunt June probably shuffles faster as she shuffles to the bathroom!
Upon having this shocking and rather disturbing realization I knew I had to do something! Something to let me know that I am more than a shuffler! So I told Mitchell that my self confidence needed a budget increase and I NEEDED a new pair of Nikes, so that when that fateful day comes that i can no longer see my feet, I can at least know that I have the shoes, and I once had those ripped legs and abs, and that although I have added 15 pds to my physique, that I STACIE WAS ONCE A RUNNER!
So if you see me, and i happen to be running...(cough) shuffling, and you think 'my that's a nice shuffle'. At least I can look you in the eye and say, I may shuffle, but man have I got great running SHOES!
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Grow old with you...
I have been working as a speech pathologist intern at a rehab facility for the past couple of months. Beside doing the usual swallowing exams/therapy etc. I have come to learn an important lesson. . . When you grow old it doesn't matter how much money you made, or how many people you know, it's whose sitting beside you when you 80 and terminally ill that really matters.. Let me paint a picture of what i mean. These are some of the observations i have made while visiting these centers...
First a man, probably in his 80's. He watches TV all day in his one man room paid for by his sweet retirement. The only person to visit him are the nurses that give him his meds and the occasional activities commitee coordinator whom he yells out the door.
Then a woman, in her late 50's but looks at least 80. Her lips are weighed down in wrinkles that sink them into a permanant frown. When you talk to her you feel the life drained out of you. You seek to help her but she is rather inconsoleable. You often wonder what her life story and why she is the way she is. You've never seen anyone visit her and you herself are reluctant to walk into her room and let her gloom overwhelm you.
Then another woman, a widow. She doesn't care for T.V. So she sits in her room and looks at the wall for 12 plus hours. When you walk in her face lights up. She is cognitively able and makes good conversation. She's pleasant and kind, and in some strange way she is completly content with life. As you walk out of her room, you carry a small prayer in your heart that someone will come visit her. Her smile is needed in this world.
A woman of 55. She cries as she sits in rehab. Sad and lonely. She's been married for 20 plus years. She has been in the hospital over 3 weeks. Her husband has visited her once. I don't know their story. But right now it's a sad one.
Finally an optimistice woman. She is fragile and kind. She has had a life empty of earthly glory but full of love as she had many children and in turn grandchildren. Her husband sits by her side everyday, all day. He brings in her favorite foods which he knows she can't eat. So he grinds it up for her to aid in her recovery. He speaks of her recovery often and tells her she can do it. The whole experiance weighs on the sweet man, and he seems overwhelmed at times. But he stays. He waits, She waits. It is neither of their ideal situations but over the years the love has been established and they understand their roles. That is, to love each other despite the convienance.
It all makes me wonder what kind of life i will lead. Will i be sad and lonely, or will I be satisfied and loved. I hope it's the latter.
So it's all made me think, What patient will I be?
First a man, probably in his 80's. He watches TV all day in his one man room paid for by his sweet retirement. The only person to visit him are the nurses that give him his meds and the occasional activities commitee coordinator whom he yells out the door.
Then a woman, in her late 50's but looks at least 80. Her lips are weighed down in wrinkles that sink them into a permanant frown. When you talk to her you feel the life drained out of you. You seek to help her but she is rather inconsoleable. You often wonder what her life story and why she is the way she is. You've never seen anyone visit her and you herself are reluctant to walk into her room and let her gloom overwhelm you.
Then another woman, a widow. She doesn't care for T.V. So she sits in her room and looks at the wall for 12 plus hours. When you walk in her face lights up. She is cognitively able and makes good conversation. She's pleasant and kind, and in some strange way she is completly content with life. As you walk out of her room, you carry a small prayer in your heart that someone will come visit her. Her smile is needed in this world.
A woman of 55. She cries as she sits in rehab. Sad and lonely. She's been married for 20 plus years. She has been in the hospital over 3 weeks. Her husband has visited her once. I don't know their story. But right now it's a sad one.
Finally an optimistice woman. She is fragile and kind. She has had a life empty of earthly glory but full of love as she had many children and in turn grandchildren. Her husband sits by her side everyday, all day. He brings in her favorite foods which he knows she can't eat. So he grinds it up for her to aid in her recovery. He speaks of her recovery often and tells her she can do it. The whole experiance weighs on the sweet man, and he seems overwhelmed at times. But he stays. He waits, She waits. It is neither of their ideal situations but over the years the love has been established and they understand their roles. That is, to love each other despite the convienance.
It all makes me wonder what kind of life i will lead. Will i be sad and lonely, or will I be satisfied and loved. I hope it's the latter.
So it's all made me think, What patient will I be?
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