More pics from Colorado

JB and little Hannah are still in Colorado where he is "working" to earn his CME (Continuing Medical Education). I have seen very few pictures of him in a classroom. Ha! It seems this is mostly learning outside. 

I must admit, their pictures look idyllic, and I can only imagine what fun they are having. I have nearly (for sure) decided that next year it will be my turn to take the trip with JB. Everyone has been through the circuit, and it is my turn.

Here are some pictures from their horseback riding adventures (including a note Hannah wrote to Grama K. to tell her about her adventures):

They attended a lecture called "Kids in the Wilderness." A missionary in Chad, on furlough, they are hiking the Continental Divide Trail with a one-year-old. (Last furlough they did the Appalachian Trail with a four-year-old who was the youngest to complete it. Unassisted.) (This sounds like insanity to me.)

And now it is on to today's adventures: White Water Rafting! Hannah was the youngest on her raft. She was given an opportunity to just sit and be dead weight. No way! Not her!

I'm including some videos JB has sent me:

• Preparing for the "surprise" adventure
• Floating in the Colorado
• On the water

Daddy & Daughter in Colorado

Each year, John has to do CME (Continuing Medical Education.) He chooses, often, to do that through the WILDERNESS MEDICINE SOCIETY. This year he has added to Colorado ... and after a two year COVID break, it's Hannah's turn!!! 

Here is a look back at the past trips John has done with WMS 

• 2008 (By himself)
• 2009 (Colorad with JB, me, and the boys)
• 2009 (With Me -- the tragic trip where we lost a fellow diver)
• 2010-2014 (We lived overseas so there weren't any trips!)
• 2017 (With Isaac)
• 2018 (With Sidge)
• 2019 (With Abigail)
• 2020-2021 (COVID break)

And here are some of the pictures JB has taken with our fourth (and final) frolicking nearly nine-year-old:

What do doctors do when they get sick?

 

Very interesting article on KEVINMD today.

It's always shocking to me that my husband, someone hired to care for sick people, has NO "sick days." Truly, outside of COVID which forced him to take days off, he has literally been at work hooked up to IV-meds for migraines or very sick with an illness. There is absolutely no sick call. It has never made sense to me, but it boils down that the only way to get a sick day is to ask another doctor, who is finally off with their family, to come in. And NO ONE wants to do that. It's truly so ironic to me ... care for sick people but don't get sick.

Fleeting

Tonigh I had dinner at the Emergency Department with my husband. The kids were at ballet and karate. I grabbed some sushi from Publix and headed in for a meal at his computer station.

He said that, ironically, he got his "first" COVID patient in quite a long time again this evening.

COVID has changed the "pulse" of the ED. There are more psychiatric patients (by far!) We (meaning me with the kids) used to stop in and see him periodically. But now, there is almost never not a psychiatric patient there that means it really isn't emotionally/physically safe for my kids to be there. 

The "frequent flyers" (people that come to the ED a lot -- either because they have mental issues or legitimate health concerns) aren't really there anymore. John honestly thinks most of them have died during COVID, and the few that didn't, have been scared away. 

As JB and I stood in the ambulance bay saying good bye, he heard a fire truck go by. He got distracted trying to figure out if it was coming or going. Later he would tell me that that fire truck was on its way to a young person's house. John lost a patient that was very sad and unexpected mere moments after I walked away. Someone who wasn't ready/expected to die. 

Life is short.

Fleeting.

Hard.

I'm so proud to be married to this amazing man that does such a good job taking care of people in our community.

We are all humans

This is my husband at home. He is a real person with a real family. He has lots of things he likes to do. Outside of spending time with his family, he loves anything that has to do with nature: farming and birding being the top two. He likes reading and cooking. He is a huge fam of movies. He's a real person. With a real life. And a real family.

Yesterday I ran into our neighbors Jeremy and Shelley in the grocery store. Jeremy is still on oxygen, but is expected to make a full recovery. (And thanks to wonderful people, I have a check for $1,500 for them from YOUR donations!)

Jeremy spoke to me about John and how John coming into his hospital room to talk to him was such an important part of his COVID journey. John explained things to him and helped him understand the battle waging in his body. 

John is a human. He grew up in a lower middle class family in South Florida. He does not consider himself anything more than a human being who was given a brain to be a doctor. He is not "in a different league."

He told a story of a conversation he had with a trucker he was treating. When John took the time to explain things, the man said: "Thanks for dumbing it down."

John stopped him. It isn't about dumbing it down. "If I was in your truck and needed to understand how to drive it, you wouldn't use big words. You would stop and really explain things to me in a way I could understand. I am not necessarily smarter than you. I'm simply smarter in medicine. You are way smarter than me in truck mechanics."

(Incidently, did you know that they say the education to become a doctor is the equivalent of learning four languages? Geezie peezie. No wonder John let me do the Turkish learning.)

So when John comes home from work last night with only 11 hours before he has to be back in the hospital and shares about patients who were cursing at him, threatening him, being rude to nurses, it makes me very sad. My husband is kind. He strives to treat every patient like he would treat his own family member.

I understand tempers are high right now. This is a scary time in our world. But remember that we are all on the same team, and need to work together to get through this pandemic. While for many people, they've put a lot of this behind them, John's everyday continues to involve COVID and people sick with other things. 

Love.

The greatest commandment.

No matter what color. No matter what class. No matter what they believe. No matter the behaviors they involve themselves in. Even if they are cursing at you and being unkind. Be kind BACK.

Love.

JB's Facebook Post Thanking His Favorite Band

Thank you, twenty one pilots, from an emergency medicine physician. 

John and the kids at a twenty one pilots concert last year.

I have been feeling beat down and worn out in the emergency department. Not enough beds. Not enough nurses. Not enough lab techs. Just one physician in the emergency department, all day, every day.

And I’ve just been tired.

Today it was busy, but I only saw a few COVID patients. And just one had to be admitted. Few patients were really sick. The ER was full, and I was hustling all day, but my optimism felt like it might be returning.

My 12-hour shift was almost finished when I was called for an emergency intubation in the ICU. A COVID-19 positive patient was crashing.

I gowned and gloved and masked myself and ran up two flights of stairs to the ICU. My patient was old and frail and scared. I talked to my patient calmly, and they settled a lot before the sedative medicines kicked in. I intubated without a problem. I thanked the nurses and respiratory therapist and removed my gown and gloves and masks.

I made my way back downstairs feeling worn out again. When is this going to end?

A few minutes later, my shift was done, and I was climbing into my truck. The radio’s Bluetooth automatically began playing music from my phone. The song was Level of Concern by Twenty One Pilots.

I let the song replay over and over while driving home.

“The world has gone insane.

Thing are starting to get heavy.

And you could bring down my level of concern.

Just tell me we’re alright.

Tell me we’re okay.”

My mood lightened.

I felt encouraged.

I’m not the only one doing this.

We are going to get through this.

I pulled up to my house and sat in the driveway for a minute. I did a quick search and found this from TOP’s lead singer, Tyler Joseph, referring to their band’s mission:

“I just want to remind you what I'm fighting for: your mental health is more important today than it ever has been. You're not alone."

Thank you.

To watch the video by this band, click here.

Praying for JB

 

To those of you who know and love my husband

John Kitsteiner

: he’s back in for a run of day shifts in the ER. He and his staff NEED your prayers today. Would you specifically pray that they can find the joy amidst the stress? There is a chronic nursing shortage and the docs now have to take on more night shifts due to the departure of a physician. My husband is the strongest man I know but he’s not recovering enough before he goes back in ... he’s the ER’s co-director and being a leader during a war adds a lot to his shoulders. Covid brings patients in in waves which means they often are completely clobbered. Pray for joy, healing, wisdom, space, and encouragement.

Thanks everyone.

I posted this on Facebook today. We received such fantastic comments. Here is a link so I can view this years from now and remember this time in our life.

The first 3/4 of the day went well for JB, but in general, his work is a battle right now. And we can use all the prayers he can get.

If it hasn't been your day, your week, your month or even your year

"While it may seem small, the ripple effects of small things is extraordinary." Matt Bevin

It's been a tough month. A doctor JB worked with had to be let go for  very good reasons, and he had to pick up a major load. In addition, John got sick. Isaac got sick. John still had to work. Abigail has big ballet production at the end of the month. Grama was sick. Grampa and Grama were away from the farm due to some family issues. 

Just

so

much.

Sometimes, life feels a bit tough. You feel tired. You are stretched. You are exhausted. You feel like nothing is going right.

But when I looked through my pictures, I found a few moments that made me smile:

Sidge aiming at his unarmed mother.

Hannah stealing my phone and taking a selfie.

Abigail resting on the couch and getting some Ritter snuggles. (Oh if he were allowed he'd be laying right next to her.)

Another attempt at a selfie.

Mr. Jacob giving Hannah a shoulder ride. 

If it hasn't been your day, your week, your month or even your year .... try to find something to smile about. Happiness is there. 

My Defense of My AMAZING PHYSICIAN HUSBAND

I don't plan to spend a lot of time re-reading this post and making it perfect. I'm gonna speak from my heart. I know it shouldn't bother me when someone makes claims against my husband, but it does.

Let me just say this ... 

since I won't go and defend my husband on any local Facebook groups which slam him or his fellow physician professionals because it's a worm hole that won't do any good. (And because JB and I made a commitment in our small town to not get into these debates.)

My husband IS the finest man I know. He loves his family, his God, his country, fiercely. He works at an EMERGENCY ROOM. He went to school for a total of TWENTY-SEVEN years to earn his medical degree.

He does not bill ANYONE for the services he renders. He gets paid, hourly, to do his job. He does not work for the hospital and receives NO kick-backs for any services he does or doesn't render.

He treats every single patient as he would treat his own child or mother. We speak often of the fact that while this is "just another patient" for him, for this person coming in, it is the event of their year or their life.

(Of course many people don't use the ER properly but that's a whole different story.)

The cost of healthcare is astronomical. I do not argue that for a moment. And please don't use my post as a launch into why that is. That isn't the point of my post.

When I had to go to the Emergency Room after flipping our four-wheeler with Hannah, our costs at the ER my husband works at were $7,000! And that was with many discounts. 

The point of this post is to stand up for my husband and not let ANYONE on any Facebook page claim that he billed them personally and should be ashamed of himself.

All he does is do his job and treat them like he would treat his own child. If your child gets skin glue, my child at home would have (and trust me -- he's stitched up people here at our house a total of 12 times and growing. Sometimes he uses glue and sometimes he uses stitches.) He treats every child (and especially female faces) as if it's the face of his young daughter that he doesn't want to see scarred. If your child got stitches, he would have done the same to his own child. If any small INKLING of him thinks something bigger is wrong, he would act upon it.

We pray every night that he has a sharp mind. He is there for 12 hours in the middle of the night and his mind CANNOT MISS ANYTHING OR SOMEONE COULD DIE. He takes that responsibility incredibly seriously. And so do I. We pray for him while he is gone each night. That He would have the mind of Christ and that Jesus would be present as he saves people's lives. Or takes a bug out of their ear. Or sends them home because nothing is wrong. Or threatens to kill him. Or tells him that they are a savior. 

You get the idea.

Trust me. My husband is not governed for one second on what Pharma tells him or what ANYONE tells him. He loves his farm too much to spend time doing things he doesn't believe in. He believes in what he does.

I imagine I could get 100 people to leave a comment below sharing a story about he helped them medically -- from a small thing to a large thing.

I'm sorry. John has asked me not to respond to the small minority of local people who slam him. It happens so infrequently. Usually I just hear great things about how he helped someone. 

So I won't respond on the Facebook page. I'll write my own post on my PERSONAL page talking about the COUNTLESS times someone in the community approaches me telling me that my husband saved their life or the life of someone they love. Or just made their visit to the hospital outstanding. 

My husband has placed himself in a PUBLIC PLACE to help SAVE THE LIVES of people in this amazing community. We love Greeneville, and we plan to live here forever. He is not passing through. We want this to be the only town he ever works in. He chooses to put his face in a public place so you have somewhere to go at two in the morning when your child falls down the stairs. Or when someone is stabbed or flips their four-wheeler. 

There you go.

I'm done.

I love you JB. You and I both grew up never knowing a doctor other than the ones we saw. We were poor kids and didn't just get handed the life you've worked so hard for. 

Thank you for listening to the call of God on your life and deciding that even though we weren't "doctor people", the world needed "doctor people" like you. 

I'm so proud of you,

We Bought a Farm: The story of a silver bowl

I'm not sure how the silver bowl ended up as a feeding dish for our animals here on the farm.

But it did.

And every time I see it, I can't help it. 

I smile a little bit.

(John does too.)

(And when I share the story with others, I see them chuckling a bit as well.)

JB graduated high school. 

Then he wrote one essay in just a few minutes and turned it in to The Fort Lauderdale Art Institute on a whim.

Art Institute liked it so much ...

they offered him a full scholarship. 

(When you grow up like John and me, the only way you go to college is a full scholarship or paying for it yourself.)

So he went.

Fast forward.

• John graduates with an Associates Degree in Art. 
• He now owns his own graphic design business. 
• I get sick. 
• He finds cure. 
• (Without use of the Internet.)
• He realizes not only people from rich families can be doctors.
• He decides to go back to school pre-med. 
• He applies to Western Kentucky University where I have just finished my four year degree.

WKU tells him they are sorry, but the Art Institute classes don't talk to Western's classes. He can't bring any of his credits with him to WKU. He will have to start over. From scratch.

So he does.

Until his advisor tells him he has to take Art Appreciation.

(Enter hilarious laughter on all sides.)

John goes to Dean's office. He tells Dean that he really thinks that despite the fact that his Associates won't connect with his Bachelor's, he should get just three credit hours for the two years he spent at the Art Institute.

Dean agrees.

Dean gives him the three credits.

Hurrah!

(I know you are thinking: what does this have to do with a silver bowl? Patience please.)

Fast forward four years. John has run his business from home while going to school full-time while I have begun teaching and coaching. He has taken the MCAT and knows he is headed to the prestigious Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota. 

• We go to John's college graduation. 
• We are shocked when we learn he has the highest grades in the entire Ogden College of Science and Engineering. 
• He is the recipient of a special award. 
• However, because he received that one Art Appreciation credit, he doesn't receive the very highest award. He receives the second highest award.

And that award ...

(I see you tracking with me!)

It is a silver dish. 

It has John's name engraved on the side. 

We laugh now at the memory of John getting knocked down a level in awards because he got that one stupid Art Appreciation credit.

And we laugh that the silver bowl that we were both so proud of, has gone down in importance over the years. Medical school and the Air Force and four kids and a farm has taken over and at some point, we were short a food dish and someone brought out John's old award. 

We actually like it being a food dish on the farm.

It says a lot.

Without saying anything at all.

P.S. Here are some pictures I found in an old scrapbook of that day back in 2003. (This was before digital photos ya'll.) 

Grace is sixteen today!!!

John's up on the stage receiving his award. Hard to see.

When we do a "drive-by" to see Daddy.

Whenever we are near JB's hospital and he is working, we try to stop in and see him. If it isn't crazy at all, we'll go in. But if it's a bit crazy, JB just comes out to see him. It really helps break up his 12-hour shifts: