tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49258918791567370202024-03-10T22:46:18.968-07:00Just Me.Musings and anecdotes of whatever whenever.Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02910066116982954465noreply@blogger.comBlogger5125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4925891879156737020.post-43060485989449636662019-02-13T20:00:00.000-08:002019-02-13T20:00:01.682-08:00Sybil's Birth StoryI'm dusting off the ol' blog to write about my second born's birth.<br />
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Because who doesn't love a good birth story? They're the female equivalent of war stories, complete with gory battle scars.<br />
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Plus, Errol got a substantial entry for his birth - can't have Sybil feeling left out.<br />
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Now, something you need to know about Sybil's birth story is Errol's birth story. Here's the long version: <a href="http://paigefizzell.blogspot.com/2015/12/errols-birth-story.html?m=1" target="_blank">link</a>. The short version is that that kid. wrecked. me. up.<br />
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Pushed for 3.5 hours; shoulder dystocia (baby stuck in birth canal); vacuum; code blue; third degree tears; 9 lbs 14 oz, 21.5 inch baby Errol.<br />
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But he was worth it.<br />
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And thank heavens for an epidural.<br />
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I had a new OB-GYN with Sybil because we'd moved since having Errol. Once my doctor had confirmed that my shoulder dystocia was legit and not just someone at the Calgary hospital being overly dramatic with their charting, she emphatically offered me a C-section.<br />
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Apparently, if you've had a shoulder dystocia delivery once, you very likely could have it again. Turns out these childbearing hips I've been toting around my whole post-pubescent life are worthless.<br />
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I was hesitant because I'd heard recovery with a C-section was a lot worse than with a vaginal delivery - and, you know, the usual negative feelings associated with someone slicing open your stomach.<br />
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But then I really looked at the possible negative side effects with shoulder dystocia. </div>
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We got really lucky with Errol. He was virtually unscathed, save a bruised head from the vacuum. But it can be a lot worse.<br />
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I think all the medical staff involved in Errol's birth kind of downplayed the risks of shoulder dystocia because it had already happened - out of the woods. Why torture the poor woman who has just had a healthy behemoth baby forcefully sucked out of her nethers.<br />
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Broken arms/clavicles I knew were a possibility, but I didn't realize that that could result in permanent nerve damage. Brain damage is even a possibility if the cord were to get stuck. That was something I was absolutely not going to risk.<br />
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Recovery and gutting be darned.<br />
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C-section was the safest way to go for Sybil, and ultimately for me. I can't imagine trying to deliver vaginally, expending all that effort, only to have to have a C-section in the end; especially if Sybil had come so far that they needed to push her back up to be able to perform the C-section. Shudder.<br />
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Perish the thought!<br />
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Now having had the C-section, hot dang! That's the way to go! </div>
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C-sections have my endorsement.<br />
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C-sections all the way!<br />
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Votes for C-sections, step in time!</div>
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I'm a neurotic control freak; so to have an actual it's-happening-for-reals date ticked off on the calendar was a thing of beauty. No fretting about when or where you're going to go into labor. No panicked drive to the hospital. No contractions!<br />
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And I was able to be completely prepared, which included being well-groomed.<br />
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With Errol's birth, I'd neglected to shave my legs until it was too late. I will forever remember having gross, prickly legs added to the list of delivery discomforts.<br />
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Sybil's C-section date was September 20th. So on the 19th we went in for a pre-op appointment. It was a brief check-up to make sure everything was good to go and to answer any questions we had. It was nice to find out exactly what to do and where to go; for Errol's birth, we had to search for the labor and delivery, me waddling along leaving a trail of amniotic fluid behind me.<br />
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Sleep didn't come very easily that night for me - which wasn't much different than usual during the third trimester.<br />
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I wasn't dreading the surgery or fearing for my life or anything, but obviously there is some level of anxiety with any procedure like this. And immediately after said procedure I'd have a new baby, which is one of the best ways I can think of to completely obliterate the comfortable inertia of the life you once knew.<br />
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My mom came over during the night to watch Errol. We had to leave insanely early, 5:30 or some such nonsense because the surgery was scheduled for 7:30 and we had to drive to Lethbridge and check in an hour or so early.<br />
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It was a strange feeling to be calmly walking into the hospital, no contractions, no broken water; just, here I am. Get a baby out of me now, s'il vous plait.<br />
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When we got to labor and delivery, we changed into our surgery gear, went to our waiting area, and I got an IV.<br />
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Then we played the waiting game.<br />
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I had a bed and Eric had a chair that did a funky maneuver to become bed-like. We ended up having to wait longer than anticipated because they'd had an emergency C-section occur. This wasn't the worst thing because the added nap time was welcome after a poor sleep.<br />
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And there was a couple on the other side of our room's screen partition that was scheduled for the C-section slot after ours; so they had to wait even longer.<br />
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We were finally ready to go into the operating room sometime around 9:00 am. One could certainly view the O.R. room as intimidating. It was quite sizable, obviously very sterile, with menacing looking instruments.<br />
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They sat me down on the operating table, introduced the operating team and gave Eric and me a brief rundown. The first step was the spinal anesthetic. The anesthesiologist was the sweetest man. <br />
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My OB-GYN seems to have a similar personality to mine, at least in this setting - all business, somewhat stoic.<br />
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So while I totally relate to my OB-GYN, it was lovely to have the anesthesiologist there to just be gushing over me with caring attentiveness.<br />
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Besides, my OB-GYN was to be occupied extracting my baby from me - not a lot of time to be assuaging.<br />
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They had me sit, leaning over, squeezing a pillow, to receive the spinal injection. This wasn't especially daunting - I'd had an epidural with Errol, and I don't think that there are a lot of differences between the two; I believe C-section spinal anesthesia is just stronger. Slight needle prick - not that big of a deal.<br />
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After that, it was crazy how fast it all went. That operating team was movin'!<br />
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They splayed me out on the operating table - arms awkwardly spread out in a 'T' formation. My hospital gown was pulled up above my stomach and the partition was put up just below my chest. I can imagine this aspect would be excruciating for some because my whole completely frozen lower half was front and center.<br />
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Literally, middle of the room, spotlights shining.<br />
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But I have no shame in such circumstances. It's a medical staff, this is their job, they see this everyday. No reason to be embarrassed.<br />
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Besides, I had freshly shaved legs this time.<br />
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They did a thorough scrubbing with iodine, which at that point I could barely feel - the anesthetic took effect so quickly. They'd put a blanket on my upper half because anesthesia can make you cold and give you the shakes.<br />
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The sweet anesthesiologist noticed I was getting shivery and got me another blanket.<br />
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He stayed up by my head the whole time. I imagine it was to monitor the anesthetic, but he also soothed and explained every minute step of the procedure. If you can request an anesthesiologist for an operation, I will be requesting him for the assumed next C-section.<br />
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One of the nurses asked me if I could feel something she'd done on my stomach. I responded with a confused, "Huh?".<br />
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The anesthesiologist laughed and said, "Good answer".<br />
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So they went to work. I could feel pressure on my stomach which kind of felt like pulling. It didn't feel like much. So when the anesthesiologist said, "Oh, there's the head"...<br />
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I was shocked they were already getting her head out.<br />
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<br />
Immediately after that she was pulled out and we had our Sybil Jane! Born 9:19 am, September 20th, 2018, 8 lbs 1 oz, 20 inches.<br />
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<br />
Just that easy.<br />
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No contractions, no pushing, no straining, no pain. I can't get over how I put zero energy or effort into having to get my baby out of me. It was a dream.<br />
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After pushing for 3.5 hours with Errol, I felt like I had run a marathon. I was so exhausted and everything hurt.<br />
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This time, the only thing that felt at all strained was my jaw from trying to withstand the shakes I was getting from the anesthetic.<br />
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Once Sybil was out, the nurses calmly took her over to the weighing station where they sucked out mucus, weighed her, measured her, and wrapped her up. It was all so calm and laid back. With Errol, it was a chaotic scene when he was delivered.<br />
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There had to be 20 people in my tiny delivering room. High drama.<br />
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Then they brought Sybil to me and I awkwardly held her on the operating table.<br />
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You know that face women always seem to make when you see birth photography or when actresses are portraying birth? Sort of a breaking down with utter elation?<br />
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Yeah, I don't make that face. Eric and I have joked about how to the medical staff it must have looked like we weren't excited or loving at all, just the most blase attitudes.<br />
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Just another day at the office. </div>
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It's a magical moment and all, but I'm surrounded by people I don't know, I'm in an awkward position to be holding a baby, and said baby has just exited me and is puffy and covered in goo...<br />
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Plus, I'm not a great sharer, <strike>especially</strike> even when it comes to feelings.<br />
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My magic moment comes when everyone is gone, and it's just me and my new baby. We're all cleaned up and settled in comfortably, and I can hold my baby, unobserved, and soak in everything about them.<br />
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While I awkwardly held Sybil, they stitched me up, which included cauterization - that's a fun experience to smell your own flesh burning.<br />
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While they were finishing that up, Eric and Sybil went to the recovery room just outside of the operating room, where I joined them shortly after.<br />
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My shakes had not subsided. One of the nurses noticed and asked if I wanted something to deal with that. Bless her. I also had some pretty sweet pain meds that made me feel buzzed and dozy for a good part of the day.<br />
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We hung out in the recovery room for a little while to be monitored. Sybil was doing a lot of loud purring, which is common with a C-section baby because they don't get the lung goo squeezed out of them like in vaginal birth, so they have to work it out themselves.<br />
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Other than that, we were all good. Sybil latched like a champ. Eating and gaining weight is not something my babies have ever had an issue with.<br />
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They eventually wheeled us over to the maternity ward and our room. I liked being wheeled around in a bed. Made me feel very grand and highfalutin.<br />
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We were initially put in a room with other people. No bueno.<br />
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Luckily, it was very temporary; they just needed to prepare our private room. Si.<br />
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Eric stuck around for a bit and then left to get back to Errol. Then it was just Sybbie and me, chilling in our private room in the hospital. It honestly was like a nice little vacation for me.<br />
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Not being pregnant anymore is such a treat. It was sublime to not have my hips hurt anymore - they had hurt so bad in the third trimester. And the nurses kept on top of my pain meds and took great care of me. Plus, I had an adorable little Sybbie to cuddle.<br />
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She's always been such a good baby.<br />
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Happy, eats well, sleeps well. It was such a drastic difference from poor acid reflux baby Errol. And having the confidence and know-how that comes from already having had a baby is everything.<br />
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I was under the impression that pretty much anything and everything was going to kill Errol.<br />
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I was so much more relaxed with Sybil. I could just soak it all in and enjoy it.<br />
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I had a voracious appetite, which I was not expecting at all after the surgery.<br />
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So I ate a ton, slept a ton, and watched movies on my tablet, all while cuddling my cute baby. It was great.<br />
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I healed exceptionally well. I never felt like I was in much pain, which was definitely different from recovery after Errol's birth.<br />
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My sister came the first night to help out, which was awesome because she is a nurse and knew the drill completely, and then my mom came the second night - you are both all-stars! I appreciated it so much. So much better being close to family this time.<br />
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The surgery was on Thursday and we were able to leave by Saturday. And after that, there were really no issues. I felt way worse recovering from Errol's birth than from a C-section. I'll take being stitched up in the stomach over stitched up in the crotch any day.<br />
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(Representation of what it was like to walk around after a third degree tear)</div>
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And C-section scar? What C-section scar? As if you could pick it out among my numerous stretch marks.<br />
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Perhaps the worst thing during recovery was the absence of BMs for a worrying time, especially with the aforementioned voracious appetite. But...<br />
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And eventually my innards got themselves movin' again.<br />
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Errol has been such a champ throughout these big life changes. The poor little guy was sick when Sybbie was born. We'd initially wanted to have him come visit in the hospital, but the cold put a damper on that. We found out later on that it was actually an ear infection. He's so dang tough and happy that we didn't even realize it was anything more than a cold.<br />
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Then 3 weeks after Sybil was born, he jumped off the bathroom counter and broke his heel bone and had to get a cast! My poor first baby!<br />
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But then subsequent x-rays made it look like the heel wasn't broken so the cast came off, only to find from later x-rays that it actually had been broken the whole time.<br />
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It was quite the time. But Errol has just remained the best little trooper.<br />
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His interest in Sybil has waxed and waned. Ambivalence is usually the order of the day. But gosh darn it, they're going to be inseparable one day, so help me.<br />
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Overall, my experience with a C-section was, clearly, so much more preferred. And, although the change from one child to two has obviously had its challenges, I think I'll always find the change from not parents to parents to be the most earth-shatteringly difficult. But regardless of how they got here, I'm just thankful they are healthy and two of the most stupendous and magnificent humans in existence. They complete me.<br />
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I'd lost my swaddling skills, and she was not cooperating. So she's looking a little lumpy here.</div>
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And some more recent pictures. 20 weeks old and 18 pounds. Cutest little chunk. She just cut her first tooth, and she's such a sweetheart that I didn't even realize there was a tooth coming until the day before it cut. Love her!<br />
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Life is good.</div>
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Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02910066116982954465noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4925891879156737020.post-67899043035047692122015-12-01T08:15:00.002-08:002015-12-01T14:59:53.068-08:00Errol's Birth Story<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
It happened, people: we had our baby!</div>
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It's taken awhile for me to blog about this happy occurrence because, apparently, parenting is really hard and time-consuming? Who knew.<br />
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The laws of nature dictated that my delivery was an inevitability, but in my pregnant, beached-whale state, it was beginning to feel like my life was to be spent as a perpetually growing mass forevermore.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">October 5, due date.</td></tr>
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By my due date, October 5th, I had become rather morose because, as I established in my last blog post, I was incredibly done with being pregnant. I had basically become the Blob.<br />
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I just kept getting bigger and bigger. It seemed to be defying reason.<br />
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Two or three weeks before my due date, my fundal height (measurement of the uterus) started measuring bigger than expected. I was already dilated 3 centimeters two weeks before my due date, at which point I had a membrane sweep (Sept. 24). Sadly, it didn't do anything but give me cramps.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">September 24</td></tr>
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Due to the fundal height measurement, I had an ultrasound a week before my due date to get an estimate of the size of the baby (Sept. 28). The estimation was 8 pounds, 11 ounces.<br />
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At my doctor's appointment the week before my due date (Oct. 1), my doctor said that I likely had a lot of amniotic fluid, which made me feel better because I figured maybe that accounted for the large fundal height measurement. At this point, I was still 3 centimeters, maybe even 4. My doctor did another sweep, which, again, resulted in nothing but cramps.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">October 1. Make the madness stop!</td></tr>
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Considering I was already at a 3 or 4 and that I'd had my membranes swept twice, I was pretty disappointed that nothing had happened by my due date. No contractions and not even Braxton Hicks. And my discomfort was simply flourishing.<br />
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I hadn't tried any old wives methods to induce labor because most involve putting yourself in some form of discomfort, and I was already in enough discomfort. But the night of my due date I did try one method. I'll let you guess which one.<br />
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Either this method was effective or our little guy is pretty punctual because at 2:30 a.m. on October 6th, my water broke.<br />
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And boy, did it break. The doctor was, indeed, correct in her prediction of the voluminous state of my uterus.<br />
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I am still impressed with myself for how immediately I woke up, sprung out of bed, and ran to the bathtub.<br />
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And thanks to my haste, I miraculously managed to avoid getting any fluid on the bed. Oh, how I wish I could have seen my pregnant self leaping forth from the bed and sprinting to the bathroom.<br />
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It truly would have been a sight to behold. I displayed the nimbleness and dexterity of the incomparable Chris Farley.<br />
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I called to Eric that my water had broke as I ran then stood in the tub as my underoos continued to be drenched. Admittedly, it's kind of a cool feeling having your water break. But there is absolutely no controlling it.<br />
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Eric came in and we looked at each other for a bit with that dazed, deer-in-the-headlights look.<br />
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Once we collected ourselves, Eric started getting excited about what was happening.<br />
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But I, although brimming with excitement, quickly became all business; which is actually very similar to how we both reacted when we got our positive pregnancy test.<br />
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I was never really scared about labor and delivery (especially since I have always been adamant that I would have an epidural, assuming it was feasible). I looked at it as an exciting challenge with a pretty awesome payoff.<br />
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So this was game time!<br />
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My doctor had told me that since I likely had a lot of amniotic fluid I should go to the hospital as soon as my water broke, which I ended up appreciating because then I didn't have to concern myself with counting contractions and minutes.<br />
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However, I had been expecting to have some warning in the form of contractions. I'd wanted to at least shower and shave my legs; not due to vanity, but just for my own comfort. But nope -- I was a greasy, top-knotted mess with prickly legs.<br />
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I hosed myself off and got dressed while Eric took orders on what was left to pack. We ended up being so overpacked that it was laughable. We probably didn't use a third of what we packed. Rookie mistake. Even at the time I knew packing makeup was a joke, but I did it anyway. Sweet, naive Paige.<br />
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As I waddled around getting ready, I started to get mild contractions. Not too bad at all considering I've had worse menstrual cramps.<br />
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I was all dressed, I'd peed for the umpteenth time, and we were all packed and ready to go, when -- GOOSH! My water absolutely soaked me.<br />
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And I was even wearing one of the most heavy-duty pads I've ever seen. I had to change all over again. Which was a real problem because there were a limited number of clothes that still fit me.<br />
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Luckily I didn't get my shoes too bad -- they were basically the only ones that still fit me. But I figured I'd better switch out to my ill-fitting flipflops in case it happened again.<br />
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We wanted to have Eric give me a priesthood blessing, but I was worried I'd soak myself again; so Eric gave me a blessing while I sat on the toilet -- yup, labor is super glamorous.<br />
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Then we were finally on our way to the hospital, which is only about 7 minutes away in middle-of-the-night traffic. It was somewhere around 3:30 a.m. when we got to the hospital.<br />
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We parked, and as I got out of the car -- GOOSH! Soaked myself again.<br />
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Not much that could be done about it at that point, though; so I got to waddle around the hospital with sopping wet pants, swollen (and now wet) feet that were exploding out of my shoes, a massive belly, and progressing contractions.<br />
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We knew labor and delivery was on the sixth floor, but we weren't sure how to get to the sixth floor. So unfortunately for me, we had to do some wandering around while my contractions ramped up and I was dripping away. Eventually I just stopped in the hallway and made Eric go on to do reconnaissance work.<br />
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Turns out we walked right by the elevators we needed to go in. And I'd even seen them and thought, "I bet that's going to end up being where we need to go."<br />
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We got checked in at labor and delivery where the nurse gave me my hospital gear to change into. I was pretty psyched to be getting out of my wet clothing, and dang, those mesh underwear are comfortable! And super sexy.<br />
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The nurse took a look at my pad and said there was a little meconium (fetus poop), which I was surprised by because I had checked for it when my water broke the first time and it looked very clear to me; maybe a slight yellow tinge. Certainly not greenish or brownish. But I suppose it looked a little more brownish at the hospital. So I deferred to the nurse's judgement.<br />
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Because there was meconium present, we were informed that it was protocol for the NICU team to be present during the birth to suction out baby's lungs and make sure he's breathing well, etc... But as of right then, everything was fine. I was hooked up to the monitors in our waiting room, and baby's heart rate and mine were fine.<br />
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Contractions were starting to be a little more frequent and slightly more painful. Still quite manageable, though. Eric would rub my back in between contractions, and during contractions I just wanted everyone to leave me alone.<br />
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My water was still breaking away. I'd put on a fresh pad and bam! Soaked again.<br />
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Eventually I got annoyed with the whole process and just had them give me a towel to sit on.<br />
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The nurse offered me the laughing gas, and I'm all about limiting pain; so until I could got my epidural, I was happy to accept the gas.<br />
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It doesn't actually really eliminate the pain, but it helps you breathe and focus. It worked really well for me. I'd be dizzy and lightheaded at the end of a contraction, but small price to pay.<br />
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The worst contraction I had was probably the one right before I started using the gas. But even that worst contraction was only slightly worse than the worst menstrual cramps I've ever had. Gives you ladies a sense of how bad my periods can be. This whole time my ovaries have just been preparing me for labor. They Miyagi'd me.<br />
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My delivery room was ready somewhere around 6-6:30 a.m. So I got out of the bed to put on a pad to limit my drip trail to the delivery room, and in so doing -- GOOSH! All over the floor of the waiting room. Again, good thing I was wearing those flipflops. There's just no controlling that uterus.<br />
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My contractions weren't agonizing, but it was a tad bothersome to have to walk with them. But I had the trusty gas tank with me. I remember being annoyed that the nurse was walking so fast, though.<br />
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I was about 5 or 6 centimeters when I moved to my delivery room. I didn't realize you can get epidurals this early in labor. So it was a real treat for me when they said I was ready for my epidural and brought in the anesthesiologist. I was prepared to labor on my own for a while yet, but you want to give me the juice now? Be my guest. <br />
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Getting the epidural wasn't a big deal. It's just a prick, like any other needle/freezing. But it seems my mother and I have something wonky going on with our spines because both she and I had issues with the placement. We both had leg spasms, which means they have to try again. So I got poked a few times. Totally worth it, though.<br />
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It took about 10 minutes to really set in, but once it did... mmm. Heaven.<br />
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The anesthesiologist came back in at that point to see how I was doing, and I wanted to throw myself at his feet and worship the very ground he walked on.<br />
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From this point until I was ready to push (3:30 p.m.), it was nap time. That's right ladies who forego epidurals and labor in pain for hours, I got to nap, essentially pain-free, on and off for about nine hours. Which I'm sure Eric appreciated because it also meant he got to nap in his recliner for nine hours.<br />
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I was saving this gif to describe childbirth in the birth story post:<br />
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However, with the epidural, this really does not apply anymore. I think I was in more pain and discomfort when I had food poisoning years ago. I actually enjoyed labor and delivery. It's exciting -- makes you feel alive! But that's probably not the case when it feels like a thousand knives stabbing you all over your body. I just don't understand why some women don't have epidurals when it is feasible to do so. It's so much unnecessary pain and stress that they're putting themselves and their babies through. But that's my opinion. Back to the birth story...<br />
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The napping was fantastic, but it was pretty interrupted. Every so often I'd need to have my blood pressure checked, freezing checked, relieve my bladder, which I needed assistance with because my legs were jelly. They reminded me of Tim Conway's <span style="color: blue;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bfTyEtVIe84" target="_blank">dentist sketch</a></span> in <i>The Carol Burnett Show</i>.<br />
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Every time they'd ask me how I wanted to go about emptying my bladder, I'd think I could do it myself in the bedpan. Nope. Muchos frozen. My bladder would not listen to me. So then they'd have to use a temporary catheter, which wasn't a big deal considering it was the ice age down there and I couldn't feel a thing.<br />
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My main nurse, who was great, had a student nurse with her. While I was pregnant and considering how labor and delivery would go, I thought it would be a big deal to me to have as few people in the delivery room as possible. But once I was actually in the situation and remembered I have little to no shame in such instances, I couldn't have cared less (<span style="color: red;">*</span>and it's a good thing too). <br />
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My main nurse said she appreciated said lack of shame, but honestly, the sooner you let your dignity go in the whole labor and delivery process, the better.<br />
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There is absolutely no room for dignity in this process.<br />
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I was even so gracious as to let the main nurse feel for my dilation and then the student nurse would have a turn. I'm just so magnanimous. Again, couldn't feel a thing down there.<br />
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And if I started to feel twinges of pain, I could just press my magical little blue button and receive a fresh dose of the juice. Mmm.<br />
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Although I wasn't in pain, I did get nauseous at one point and threw up a tiny amount. But I felt fine after I threw up, and they hooked me up to a drip to help with the nausea. By the end of this process I had so many drips: IV, epidural, nausea meds, and oxytocin. Yay for modern day medicine.<br />
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At about 2:30 p.m. I was dilated to 10, but baby wasn't quite in the position they wanted him in. So they said I could start pushing or wait an hour and lie in positions that would help baby move. I was in no pain, so why not wait to make conditions as ideal as possible. <br />
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Baby boy had been doing great this whole time. The doctor and nurses kept commenting on how he was the happiest baby that day because through contractions his heart rate would be great. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that his mother wasn't in pain or stressed at all.<br />
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At 3:30 p.m., they checked baby, and he'd moved the way they wanted him to. So we were all set for pushing. I couldn't feel the contractions, so we'd have to feel my stomach for when it tightened and then I'd push. The doctor and the nurse said I was doing really good at pushing. I don't know why someone wouldn't be good at it; it's pretty innate, and there have kind of been opportunities to practice it before...<br />
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The doctor wanted me to have realistic expectations and told me that since this was my first baby it could take between an hour and a half to three hours of pushing. I was hopeful that it would be on the lower end of those options since my pushing was being praised. The pushing didn't hurt, but it was definitely strenuous.<br />
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I eventually laid off the blue button a bit so I could feel the contractions better, and the doctor decided to start me on oxytocin to get my contractions going a bit more.<br />
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I tried a few different positions for pushing, and 'bout near killed myself trying a squatting position on the end of the bed, holding onto the bar. Silly jelly legs.<br />
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The position I seemed to be doing the best pushing with was just sitting hunched over while the nurse and Eric held my legs (my very prickly legs). This put a ton of strain on my neck and shoulders, though.<br />
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Eric would do the counting during contractions. Initially he was going at a faster pace, but the nurse eventually told him to slow down. With the slower counting I'd be so out of breath by the end of the pushing and, although Eric was doing an excellent job counting, I'd kind of want to punch him by the end of a contraction. <br />
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After three hours, they could see baby's head, but that was it.<br />
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And I was exhausted. My neck and shoulders were killing me. The doctor said I could keep trying, but we might need to consider assisted birth (forceps or vacuum). I wanted to avoid that if I could; so I pushed for another half hour.<br />
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But nada. The doctor saw how exhausted I was and how ineffective my pushes were becoming and called it. By that point I was more than happy to oblige and throw in the towel.<br />
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<br />
I chose the vacuum. Something about the forceps (salad tongs) just gives me the willies. Both seem like they'd hurt baby's head, but more so the tongs. They look very pinchy.<br />
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With the assisted birth decision made, the doctor and nurses finished prepping and called in the NICU team, which meant another five or six people staring at my lady bits. But oh well. The doctor situated the vacuum, which just translated to pressure for me, not pain, and it was go time.<br />
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The doctor turned the vacuum on and told me to push, which in my wearied state I hadn't considered I'd have to keep doing, and to be honest, I was a little miffed. She was just supposed to suck my baby right out of there while I relaxed. But sadly, that's not how it works. So I started pushing again. Oof.<br />
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There were some issues with the suction because, as it turned out, baby boy had a good head of hair. But that wasn't going to be the only issue. There was a pretty significant reason that baby boy was having a hard time getting through the birth canal, and that reason is that he was ginormous. So much for an 8 pound baby like the ultrasound predicted. And I <i>did</i> have a lot of amniotic fluid, and somehow that and my huge baby fit in me.<br />
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The vacuum and pushing got his head through, but his shoulders got stuck (shoulder dystocia). In our case, it kept being described as <i>severe</i> shoulder dystocia. This necessitated that the delivering doctor call a code blue. It still kind of makes my heart drop when I see the definition of a code blue.<br />
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Code blue: <i>An emergency situation announced in a hospital in which a patient is in cardiopulmonary arrest, requiring a team of providers to rush to the specific location and begin immediate resuscitative efforts.</i><br />
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I had no idea any of this was going on at the time, though. I knew crazy stuff was happening because the vibe in the room changed pretty suddenly, and when I opened my eyes after pushing, there were an extra 4 or 5 people in the room. So now there were about 12 people in total watching the show<span style="color: red;">*</span>.<br />
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The delivering doctor sliced me once, but it wasn't enough, so she went back for seconds -- third degree tears.<br />
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Couldn't feel it at the time, but man, did I feel it later.<br />
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All of this was just more pressure. <i>Lots</i> of pressure.Then with the incisions made, the doctor grabbed baby, I pushed with all I had left in me...<br />
<br />
...and our little Errol was born! Bruised, swollen, and ginormous, but wonderful.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz-OYXUSrkUk3q5n6tuGJJWHKA6j3rxzvsSgkKLgg39Ry5EPSRJN5cuzHetpvbYCH4LlYZRNquKd05hI5enbUVUkTmba4WFJ9t7FF1W7CKhelW0Jxbkm9vqI5SSEcAl7mt3cHzZYNv2gY/s1600/IMAG1162.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="361" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz-OYXUSrkUk3q5n6tuGJJWHKA6j3rxzvsSgkKLgg39Ry5EPSRJN5cuzHetpvbYCH4LlYZRNquKd05hI5enbUVUkTmba4WFJ9t7FF1W7CKhelW0Jxbkm9vqI5SSEcAl7mt3cHzZYNv2gY/s640/IMAG1162.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption">Errol Stewart Fizzell, born at 6:48 p.m. on October 6, 2015, measuring a whopping 9 pounds 14 ounces, 21.5 inches.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The whole process happened so fast, and I was so focused on doing everything I could to help the procedure go smoothly that I was oblivious, which was probably for the best. But poor Eric was completely aware of everything going on, and he saw all the gory glory. That whole mess didn't bother him (morbid curiosity), but the brief panic left him momentarily shellshocked .<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaBebsFgE8BNiRX4UY6T26Zkll5yBNa7w9xFMwRDc27emtcysJ3GBnpoQgECvDxX6Ww54_5lVxZst5qPL5uBEcHT7MMdGPddVI1BUwOyjVrtu9s81f1ImNL3SJPM_-R4Xb-bFyLpM3HcM/s1600/Community.+Troy.+Scared.+Shocked..gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaBebsFgE8BNiRX4UY6T26Zkll5yBNa7w9xFMwRDc27emtcysJ3GBnpoQgECvDxX6Ww54_5lVxZst5qPL5uBEcHT7MMdGPddVI1BUwOyjVrtu9s81f1ImNL3SJPM_-R4Xb-bFyLpM3HcM/s400/Community.+Troy.+Scared.+Shocked..gif" width="400" /></a></div>
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Once Errol was delivered, the NICU team took over and suctioned his lungs, at which point he let out a cry. Hearing him for the first time and knowing that he was okay thawed my cold, stoic heart and made me cry. My heart grew three sizes that day.<br />
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Throughout the day the nurses had commented on how calm and laid back Eric and I were, but emotions abounded after Errol's delivery.<br />
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The meconium had been reason enough for the nurses to forewarn me that I might not get to hold Errol after he was born; so I figured with all that had happened they would definitely be whisking him away to the NICU. So I was pleasantly surprised when someone from the NICU brought him over to me and plopped him down on my chest..<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoWeW0w-k303tXOyMHH5hVb5ssoBD-9HzQDQdgnEHEOgYW1pGMv7oOnrjC76KOG-0krDTch4zcYDAE40UUBOm9EqTpcASQgb-_UZteAyXIAk7XNBNi8gfMX6eZRkdlyORFCScKgtPbgHE/s1600/IMAG1168+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoWeW0w-k303tXOyMHH5hVb5ssoBD-9HzQDQdgnEHEOgYW1pGMv7oOnrjC76KOG-0krDTch4zcYDAE40UUBOm9EqTpcASQgb-_UZteAyXIAk7XNBNi8gfMX6eZRkdlyORFCScKgtPbgHE/s640/IMAG1168+%25282%2529.jpg" width="362" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our first meeting. That washcloth and ice chips were lifesavers.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO0zIUvz_xiAgWv1cZTjTac7Zol9F6BN6s7DLxvFwSBaiQ0XiaVID5qQX2-6CvmruwhUIyzoWX_FYJc4p2jnIktZcTuJOVeBklE9XynY1YMKAycX92HmFbbUK-PJBL5e-398wNHbiBwjw/s1600/IMAG1174+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO0zIUvz_xiAgWv1cZTjTac7Zol9F6BN6s7DLxvFwSBaiQ0XiaVID5qQX2-6CvmruwhUIyzoWX_FYJc4p2jnIktZcTuJOVeBklE9XynY1YMKAycX92HmFbbUK-PJBL5e-398wNHbiBwjw/s640/IMAG1174+%25282%2529.jpg" width="362" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love this boy.</td></tr>
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They were stitching me up during these pictures, but thanks to the epidural I got to just focus on mine and Errol's first meeting.<br />
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After a little cuddle time, the NICU team took Errol for tests and Eric went with them. Given Errol's size, he was pretty out of place in the NICU; they had to hunt down some non-newborn diapers that would fit him.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcqKNdTIcHRb_xkyLx6AT-5hqNymen3w5xqiC6alxMgH3GfogJRFcjaH9bp0_GV39gYV3pTUEel_FljjK2KZBopK3ueiyRFUs8k8Ns2nl9-rbMo96COXIvTejyQ9Kso9oVixPTN43yKfQ/s1600/IMAG1194+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcqKNdTIcHRb_xkyLx6AT-5hqNymen3w5xqiC6alxMgH3GfogJRFcjaH9bp0_GV39gYV3pTUEel_FljjK2KZBopK3ueiyRFUs8k8Ns2nl9-rbMo96COXIvTejyQ9Kso9oVixPTN43yKfQ/s640/IMAG1194+%25282%2529.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some skin-to-skin with dad.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoSHa41TiWfcZNvPJ2jRF3Jtm8u70sO7cb2cLMCJaVkLt6JE34iv4DtpFps1C6bMbFS-akm0FNtV_yQScQGainMPOFr7n7B6eMuMl-tHU7Sr7GE9ZiCyyDH1KtUQwaudmjUupyI7LxbAA/s1600/IMAG1189.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="362" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoSHa41TiWfcZNvPJ2jRF3Jtm8u70sO7cb2cLMCJaVkLt6JE34iv4DtpFps1C6bMbFS-akm0FNtV_yQScQGainMPOFr7n7B6eMuMl-tHU7Sr7GE9ZiCyyDH1KtUQwaudmjUupyI7LxbAA/s640/IMAG1189.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Big boy.</td></tr>
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I stayed to get my stitches finished, get cleaned up, and rest. A specialist was there to deal with the muscle that had torn, but he had a resident with him that did the stitching. I was a little apprehensive about that one. That's not an area I want a novice messing around with.<br />
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But the resident seemed to do a fine job.<br />
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The specialist explained to me what had happened regarding my tear/episiotomy, and in a dazed state I asked him if I still had to deliver my placenta. I'd always heard that you're not finished once the baby's out; you still have to deliver the placenta. He seemed amused, considering they were stitching me up, and said it was already out. It was apparently quite large; 'twas a very effective placenta. So I had a behemoth baby, a humongous placenta, and tons of amniotic fluid. The pounds just melted off of me.<br />
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The swelling stuck around for quite a while, though, unfortunately. It actually got worse for a while after I delivered Errol. I should have taken a picture of my feet because it was really quite astounding, but I was too fed up with them at the time.<br />
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I had kind of wanted to see the placenta along with some of the birthing, via mirror (I also have a morbid curiosity), but oh well. Next time, I guess.<br />
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The delivering doctor took over the stitching after the resident was done. While she was stitching, the nurse was replacing the tape on my IV. It was pulling at my arm hair and I was wincing. the doctor apologized, thinking it was the stitches I was wincing from. I said, "Oh, no, it's the tape." She thought it was hilarious that I was cringing about tape being pulled off my arm but I was not phased at all by the stitches. Epidural's a heck of a drug. Just relaxing while my privates get stitched up.<br />
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Everyone was blown away by how big Errol was, especially coming from 5'1" me. When the nurses changed shifts, the new nurse hadn't seen Eric. She was expecting him to be some 6'4" football player. She was shocked when skinny-minnie Eric came into the room. But Eric was 9 pounds 4 ounces when he was born; so he's probably to blame.<br />
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Although a few people believe I got a false negative on my glucose test and that I actually had gestational diabetes.<br />
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Whatever the reason for big boy Errol, at least it's in my medical records so subsequent pregnancies will be monitored veeery closely.<br />
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My main nurse couldn't believe how big Errol's chest was. The delivering doctor couldn't believe I'd gotten him as far as I had on my own. I've got to imagine that if he had been an average size the whole delivery would have gone swimmingly.<br />
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Errol passed all of his NICU tests with flying colors. Oftentimes babies with shoulder dystocia can break their collar bone or arm(s); so we were very glad that he's got tough little bones. He did have a very swollen and sore head, though, poor little boy.<br />
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They kept Errol in the NICU the first night we were there to keep an eye on his lungs and to get his blood sugar up a bit. We got to go visit as much as we wanted.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4BEFEBbLrnrOr8bI3BxBV7HtnRijvjP-CTU-xqSumVFiUkt052d7wzNhaW1UUC_0hwycykKKkMSnEE9TEwneRPaPIVYYRxdgtY2dNQEszYXzxyn37hNAMNAOQOh4g4V2dlkSwy3Qorvk/s1600/IMAG0008+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4BEFEBbLrnrOr8bI3BxBV7HtnRijvjP-CTU-xqSumVFiUkt052d7wzNhaW1UUC_0hwycykKKkMSnEE9TEwneRPaPIVYYRxdgtY2dNQEszYXzxyn37hNAMNAOQOh4g4V2dlkSwy3Qorvk/s640/IMAG0008+%25282%2529.jpg" width="362" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cuddles in the NICU.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTOrgJLPqb4XlI-wPsEeyqjVfpU6qrDHPLoCfuqiXIR7nQJh3uRXfHu_mJ_bnrp2jZNuuJU5r-N4l6hHOhwkpM74jG9D-MKwh194HRh1P0riU3bQ2G239A6AsK3fNBtJesZVru0mvEh9Q/s1600/IMAG0015+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="532" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTOrgJLPqb4XlI-wPsEeyqjVfpU6qrDHPLoCfuqiXIR7nQJh3uRXfHu_mJ_bnrp2jZNuuJU5r-N4l6hHOhwkpM74jG9D-MKwh194HRh1P0riU3bQ2G239A6AsK3fNBtJesZVru0mvEh9Q/s640/IMAG0015+%25282%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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But I was so wiped that it was kind of nice to just sleep most of that night. Except for the fact that the nurses came in every hour or so to poke and prod me and tell me how swollen my nether regions were. No. You don't say? I had no idea.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMeB7q7SuXHAJWy0sx7DNHrW1GtGl4lm7uWCSA5IjSkh-7uFg1PAiOKFSXwyLbnN3RROYxMnHeYgsaWNTo7rd75f0Y6JOpMYfaJuJpdj_cf2RX-Ys19Eogi5-H-s8k5uu8iqyJuoOMVCA/s1600/John+Cleese.+Exasperated.+Frustrated.+No.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMeB7q7SuXHAJWy0sx7DNHrW1GtGl4lm7uWCSA5IjSkh-7uFg1PAiOKFSXwyLbnN3RROYxMnHeYgsaWNTo7rd75f0Y6JOpMYfaJuJpdj_cf2RX-Ys19Eogi5-H-s8k5uu8iqyJuoOMVCA/s320/John+Cleese.+Exasperated.+Frustrated.+No.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
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It was also nice that we had a private room (had to pay for it), but I kind of felt bad for kicking Harry out of his cupboard under the stairs -- the room was minuscule! And there was only a garbagey wooden glider chair with crappy cushions for Eric. So he had to makeshift a bed on the floor using pillows and cushions. He could have gone home, but he's a fantastic feller that wanted to stay with us. I sure do love him for helping me get through pregnancy, delivery, and recovery. It's been a doozy.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3NMsSTf6BHKfZZAwKMSru39Hu3Ur7hQG4ah2TdMjlE-gaHavNYbagx-Fz9xoGFIRFuTxWLkED02WjwqlPrOzBpuxqQFQSqoMEfnqgCDZUVJHKqAyZnZ83oEjoORBVMSykS1epL8fC9PY/s1600/Seinfeld.+Elaine.+Jerry.+Hug.+Love.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3NMsSTf6BHKfZZAwKMSru39Hu3Ur7hQG4ah2TdMjlE-gaHavNYbagx-Fz9xoGFIRFuTxWLkED02WjwqlPrOzBpuxqQFQSqoMEfnqgCDZUVJHKqAyZnZ83oEjoORBVMSykS1epL8fC9PY/s400/Seinfeld.+Elaine.+Jerry.+Hug.+Love.gif" width="400" /></a></div>
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We got to bring Errol to our room the next afternoon, but we had to stay in the hospital one more night to make sure all was well with Errol.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOiq58eD0RLkUBgag2gZcf9R78syM_IUxWkGfz-W-5b0UcrTaMd2vg9MleT7Tw3b51vpQmJkp5d3ganpL-WEICbQnR6-VqFxMylVB1ibdICxIQUFROAc8mk3m2-cvWSadEL5-w8EBmIi0/s1600/Aviary+Photo_130934550504514390.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOiq58eD0RLkUBgag2gZcf9R78syM_IUxWkGfz-W-5b0UcrTaMd2vg9MleT7Tw3b51vpQmJkp5d3ganpL-WEICbQnR6-VqFxMylVB1ibdICxIQUFROAc8mk3m2-cvWSadEL5-w8EBmIi0/s640/Aviary+Photo_130934550504514390.png" width="393" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Late night/early morning cuddles.</td></tr>
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He's a champ, so it obviously was all well. So on October 8th we were on our way home to begin our floundering attempts at parenthood.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEPrGNR4pK6V9J8kTXHXWNLNJ9BQm65HY4iaCmyg34RqXAj7W01zzt-i2XPr55fcX-PE2Ve6B41GWeWSbETK2tEnOyVX3w19J3iu0gS-VHgzKhuQS02hQjv4g6eNA9ZW8ENxfchiYhIjQ/s1600/IMAG0050.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="361" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEPrGNR4pK6V9J8kTXHXWNLNJ9BQm65HY4iaCmyg34RqXAj7W01zzt-i2XPr55fcX-PE2Ve6B41GWeWSbETK2tEnOyVX3w19J3iu0gS-VHgzKhuQS02hQjv4g6eNA9ZW8ENxfchiYhIjQ/s640/IMAG0050.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In this family we wear sweats, young man.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHO-YVWUsHrEXuGEvOZxjeczeBP7YXg7wLdYF5jua8DGpFf_67s0ViKiD2a-uIvdXZIbrihKpYJzZ0sU92ZZTkxWUFdYzu2fv02xQRAFgYEgcZoS2PjDvyBv9TRxFsW7-PHI93Jgao9n0/s1600/Aviary+Photo_130934548553636471.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHO-YVWUsHrEXuGEvOZxjeczeBP7YXg7wLdYF5jua8DGpFf_67s0ViKiD2a-uIvdXZIbrihKpYJzZ0sU92ZZTkxWUFdYzu2fv02xQRAFgYEgcZoS2PjDvyBv9TRxFsW7-PHI93Jgao9n0/s640/Aviary+Photo_130934548553636471.png" width="361" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ready to go home.</td></tr>
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We love this boy more and more every day. Having him made it all worth it.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS5znQfBNzMzlx3w5cVqDDlS1jJnmCtezmOhQiLT8xHwiMejf-B4QUGXotheUtC85XAid0QUf3E5hADJMOmYXL0yRBNLxOQYT8iSFhNRDkOHbaQZMDi9YDb8M8-k8pjGPYrlrqm89nnNg/s1600/IMAG1396.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="362" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS5znQfBNzMzlx3w5cVqDDlS1jJnmCtezmOhQiLT8xHwiMejf-B4QUGXotheUtC85XAid0QUf3E5hADJMOmYXL0yRBNLxOQYT8iSFhNRDkOHbaQZMDi9YDb8M8-k8pjGPYrlrqm89nnNg/s640/IMAG1396.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">November 26; 7 weeks and 2 days.</td></tr>
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<br />Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02910066116982954465noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4925891879156737020.post-35767275331099692422015-09-10T16:54:00.001-07:002015-10-19T13:55:49.692-07:00Pregnancy: Not My Thing<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Don't get me wrong; I'm extremely grateful that I have the ability to bear life within me, and I'm indescribably excited to meet our little boy, but I am quite finished with being pregnant.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdYOnopij2Fe4v4RUCYZim1aQbjikDoes3akYqbihp2gF2InIzyS0NLGB7nF0rPvyBLtFewsVnLwwQwpiTkoPr7Hb1hKF_O9tbGrmnhQjuziWXbylScVMc4mfdlvaW0o_w-A_aGzEUku0/s1600/Mary+Poppins.+So+done.+Umbrella.+Flying+away+2.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdYOnopij2Fe4v4RUCYZim1aQbjikDoes3akYqbihp2gF2InIzyS0NLGB7nF0rPvyBLtFewsVnLwwQwpiTkoPr7Hb1hKF_O9tbGrmnhQjuziWXbylScVMc4mfdlvaW0o_w-A_aGzEUku0/s400/Mary+Poppins.+So+done.+Umbrella.+Flying+away+2.gif" width="400" /></a></div>
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I can't remember a time before I was pregnant. I used to not understand why women would get so antsy and impatient towards the end of their pregnancies. How naive I was.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNkp49_AZHxLi5cCFC8NYD-5Crt1VT2FEWCt-0FXOhsB3L2l6QOqZa-G_0spdsKWzYTF0AOkLuuJGLNcUysy3s6xu9It10etKjhe6bf3vdE2huF9IO0N8kc4wgbtfoAPIamKIWIS2fsxs/s1600/Robin+Hood+Men+in+Tights.+Incredulous.+Scoff.+Disapproves.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNkp49_AZHxLi5cCFC8NYD-5Crt1VT2FEWCt-0FXOhsB3L2l6QOqZa-G_0spdsKWzYTF0AOkLuuJGLNcUysy3s6xu9It10etKjhe6bf3vdE2huF9IO0N8kc4wgbtfoAPIamKIWIS2fsxs/s400/Robin+Hood+Men+in+Tights.+Incredulous.+Scoff.+Disapproves.gif" width="400" /></a></div>
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Although, I will never understand going so far as taking castor oil. Give yourself the runs on top of everything else? No thank you. Even if it works, no thank you.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiROzDXpbbedt_I-KkOfRCdKCIjOOqYye4_Aek7QyacqcbJOst5d4jn43N3jJggAupT6-iOGWrLYts2McZUq8vOZ2fn8R0B0tQcy9MBr32shilIxWiB1Yth2zZfci7d4Q3LG-YqcYdpF5s/s1600/30+Rock.+Liz.+No+thank+you+please.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiROzDXpbbedt_I-KkOfRCdKCIjOOqYye4_Aek7QyacqcbJOst5d4jn43N3jJggAupT6-iOGWrLYts2McZUq8vOZ2fn8R0B0tQcy9MBr32shilIxWiB1Yth2zZfci7d4Q3LG-YqcYdpF5s/s1600/30+Rock.+Liz.+No+thank+you+please.gif" /></a></div>
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But I just want my relatively healthy body back. So badly.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4JnjyLMqkp4VDVrScHRCy8DYWhXWl_JigcTu2cGMxn88iu8jo1r7xKhIbBFOzOA3HuUZFAHdwYviWBFtfbCzM9G5ZE5uwiN8LkiI_goP64wv9C7Mn-QKVpTpTX3c3GwkVLrCt-TB9tgw/s1600/Colbert.Give+it+to+me.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4JnjyLMqkp4VDVrScHRCy8DYWhXWl_JigcTu2cGMxn88iu8jo1r7xKhIbBFOzOA3HuUZFAHdwYviWBFtfbCzM9G5ZE5uwiN8LkiI_goP64wv9C7Mn-QKVpTpTX3c3GwkVLrCt-TB9tgw/s400/Colbert.Give+it+to+me.gif" width="352" /></a></div>
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I am the Murphy's law of pregnancy. Any symptom that can be had, will be had. There was a brief, shining moment of respite for a few weeks in my second trimester where my symptoms cooled off, but in my third trimester, they picked back up and some exciting new symptoms stopped by.</div>
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For starters, I am retaining water like a champ! Which means lots and lots of swelling, or "edema" in fancy terms.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj98YNYCHDRAokzOJGSMTv_atofNz_frb-Hgmo76Yb29eLyEJ4MQkDPaDDFyUyCsWlFNEg8P9aay_0_-_KNIV4ZhVBq3YOI-sN0HAYPM35-nzz5pU4f-2u2SYFDTZG4oGMJV2pW1HgQ8s/s1600/Willy+Wonka.+Violet.+Blueberry.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj98YNYCHDRAokzOJGSMTv_atofNz_frb-Hgmo76Yb29eLyEJ4MQkDPaDDFyUyCsWlFNEg8P9aay_0_-_KNIV4ZhVBq3YOI-sN0HAYPM35-nzz5pU4f-2u2SYFDTZG4oGMJV2pW1HgQ8s/s1600/Willy+Wonka.+Violet.+Blueberry.gif" /></a></div>
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I said goodbye to wearing my wedding ring many moons ago. And because of this edema, I developed carpal tunnel syndrome. The combination of fat, swollen fingers and stiff, carpal tunnel riddled hands was an absolute treat while I was still working. This bit from Simpsons came to mind frequently:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQA7G0Kf2VYDwG1bj58TqIES5j4BBkBy3UhVqV54R8u1hYfdhBeNVaHDoc_BtpeiDEjut4F9mIv3DWzDGqL4UPwiPr1Mj41qcMjQeJxydHYAPFKJiyh09ttzy0urve7BBkCDdZcHgj6gE/s1600/Fat+Fingers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQA7G0Kf2VYDwG1bj58TqIES5j4BBkBy3UhVqV54R8u1hYfdhBeNVaHDoc_BtpeiDEjut4F9mIv3DWzDGqL4UPwiPr1Mj41qcMjQeJxydHYAPFKJiyh09ttzy0urve7BBkCDdZcHgj6gE/s400/Fat+Fingers.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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The carpal tunnel is particularly bad when I wake up, forming a stiff, claw-like appendage.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvU7Z9RR2iWNBfYo0una3YnZLoX9LTCHhiUHWW2Z44jFuxTcJHU2xDgfJhWijbexFt8oVsixRCfWPrk696224YGrB1PTPPPruRIFTR3hEg-2fN3VX2DlprT2-b06RDnJcBRQ5wsiIewq8/s1600/Friends.+Chandler.+Hand+claw.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvU7Z9RR2iWNBfYo0una3YnZLoX9LTCHhiUHWW2Z44jFuxTcJHU2xDgfJhWijbexFt8oVsixRCfWPrk696224YGrB1PTPPPruRIFTR3hEg-2fN3VX2DlprT2-b06RDnJcBRQ5wsiIewq8/s1600/Friends.+Chandler.+Hand+claw.gif" /></a></div>
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Luckily, the carpal tunnel should go away sometime after I've given birth and the swelling takes a chill pill.<br />
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But even worse than the swelling in my hands is the swelling in my lower extremities. My ankles are no more.</div>
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[They exist]...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib6M_25ImLWRP4p6-JFinqT4ShYUOOSdGaAxLUymXRnxBpSIAf5ts2uSOBrrD8kIpvACwxrtgN-85vukDYi94tVANNZf6W1TzMlfvOCVjnFrNRFCPE07X7PdOctyCXuRsf4y0pEBtdTd4/s1600/Titanic.+Old+Rose.+He+exists+now+only+in+my+memory.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib6M_25ImLWRP4p6-JFinqT4ShYUOOSdGaAxLUymXRnxBpSIAf5ts2uSOBrrD8kIpvACwxrtgN-85vukDYi94tVANNZf6W1TzMlfvOCVjnFrNRFCPE07X7PdOctyCXuRsf4y0pEBtdTd4/s1600/Titanic.+Old+Rose.+He+exists+now+only+in+my+memory.gif" /></a></div>
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Shoes that were once roomy or that even needed inserts are a tight squeeze. I feel like Cinderella's stepsisters whenever I try to put shoes on.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-6YRd26Zb10Y5asce7jJIEKTxxxB5lv2TlHbx_wkAKXYAhGHXb2pAUQIwU2wBBIJLL9zjfcX3YJJ-jagK4wTAhgjB82enTjSV5EGlc5Z75_bXRBD59AzmvPx4tWqgGaLM5ajFjkybAJI/s1600/Cinderella.+Anastasia.+Glass+Slipper.+You+know+how+it+is+dancing+all+night.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-6YRd26Zb10Y5asce7jJIEKTxxxB5lv2TlHbx_wkAKXYAhGHXb2pAUQIwU2wBBIJLL9zjfcX3YJJ-jagK4wTAhgjB82enTjSV5EGlc5Z75_bXRBD59AzmvPx4tWqgGaLM5ajFjkybAJI/s400/Cinderella.+Anastasia.+Glass+Slipper.+You+know+how+it+is+dancing+all+night.gif" width="400" /></a></div>
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My once petite size 5 feet are now, as Eric has affectionately dubbed them "ham slippers". We find it hilarious to call chubby baby hands "ham mittens" (which can now also be applied to me), and so "ham slippers" was a natural progression.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD1Ktdye3I_eeqI6Kb19Zxj_DF-j8y0fQcpmMJCfbsemBD9Pq4QnsO2-9PAZIKlCpq8tfKo9Fch5G9OkPGbv29mckOaIknrzdq02eCt9HyQuyov5Vgwn2SLSG6vXpr4Qnhq3pruOFXgpA/s1600/Cinderella.+Drizella.+Glass+slipper.+I%2527ll+make+it+fit.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD1Ktdye3I_eeqI6Kb19Zxj_DF-j8y0fQcpmMJCfbsemBD9Pq4QnsO2-9PAZIKlCpq8tfKo9Fch5G9OkPGbv29mckOaIknrzdq02eCt9HyQuyov5Vgwn2SLSG6vXpr4Qnhq3pruOFXgpA/s400/Cinderella.+Drizella.+Glass+slipper.+I%2527ll+make+it+fit.gif" width="400" /></a></div>
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I'm really running out of options in the shoe department. I may just have to start wearing Eric's shoes. Or clown shoes.</div>
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Or just all clown attire in general...</div>
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Because nothing fits anymore.</div>
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One pregnancy symptom I thought I'd been avoiding pretty successfully was pregnancy brain. I can be a tad scatterbrained sometimes, regardless of being pregnant. And there hadn't been enough incidents in close proximity to one another for me to classify them as "pregnancy brain". But I had a doozy that was too substantially scatterbrained to not classify it as "pregnancy brain". </div>
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When Eric and I were at the temple for a session, I completely spaced out on the purpose of what I was doing there and forgot to get my proxy information. I just went up to the waiting room and sat there in my own little oblivious world.</div>
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I think I was probably just distracted because I was so impressed with myself for squeezing into my temple dress. That and the fact that every woman temple worker was looking at my pregnant self with glowing adoration. </div>
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But as soon as an attendant brought my mistake to my attention, I had to go all the way back downstairs to correct said error.</div>
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And "all the way back downstairs" was a big deal because even just simple movements have become immensely difficult these days, which makes sense considering I'm carting around an extra 30 plus pounds on ham slippers while my precious little son makes it his mission to crush my bladder and pelvis. When I walk, I look like the product of a love affair between Charlie Chaplin and a penguin.<br />
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And traversing stairs leaves me winded these days.</div>
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You know that part about a baby squashing my bladder? Yeah, I never leave the bathroom. It's my new mailing address, like "The Cupboard under the Stairs". Sometimes I'll go into the bathroom, do my business, come out thinking all is well, and then literally go right back in.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3VwIoR43_MzW37E1bgEmMQf2qMCWVslhrnEKIhi_JkpcZsOb0UNck60VP3hm3nD8fxUR6fm0BCH6QOJa7N0v8LR7aA8wJka8yqNScWpBAWNfN977g87Jy3IkTdO-Mm4pHUFLQEhHP09E/s1600/Simpsons.+Grandpa.+Walking+out.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3VwIoR43_MzW37E1bgEmMQf2qMCWVslhrnEKIhi_JkpcZsOb0UNck60VP3hm3nD8fxUR6fm0BCH6QOJa7N0v8LR7aA8wJka8yqNScWpBAWNfN977g87Jy3IkTdO-Mm4pHUFLQEhHP09E/s1600/Simpsons.+Grandpa.+Walking+out.jpg" /></a></div>
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And my lack of mobility, plus needing to pee constantly, plus short commercial breaks while I was working did not equal good times.</div>
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Aiding the bladder matter is the fact that I cannot get enough liquids. </div>
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I'm not even that hungry these days, but man, am I a drinking fool.</div>
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The level of exhaustion felt in pregnancy has astounded me, and the third trimester has been the worst.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxwn0rewzJTZBMD6Hwo81uphT-iOrtn-hjtR1ddRoIBAVmLU_Lwj0mWpYN0Jo609dh7E4djtY82COKe8gDvRcoF7m9sY7cm79F_tDSs2R11kIgjL7zXETQLFIrv3pYeOda81b2kDcd-5U/s1600/Greta+Garbo.+I%2527ve+never+been+so+tired+in+my+life.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxwn0rewzJTZBMD6Hwo81uphT-iOrtn-hjtR1ddRoIBAVmLU_Lwj0mWpYN0Jo609dh7E4djtY82COKe8gDvRcoF7m9sY7cm79F_tDSs2R11kIgjL7zXETQLFIrv3pYeOda81b2kDcd-5U/s1600/Greta+Garbo.+I%2527ve+never+been+so+tired+in+my+life.gif" /></a></div>
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Squashed bladder is a big contributor there because I get up a gagillion times in the night to pee, which is not easy considering I have a watermelon belly, malevolent pelvic bones that want to punish me greatly, and ineffective claw hands. This is a pretty accurate representation of how I look trying to get out of bed.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGGOH4DlOMCrXbklDaMtndTbAC6lDpGhMUMIMEN95WOhhnXBjum-3RecvPAMMk1E9rtc0EWmE2hX0leLfX-77lsLpq-2inVWqpuIRedOGUYXW9Vmw_apV4KCdIU4aV3XswO0uBLiBOYQs/s1600/A+Christmas+Story.+Randy.+I+can%2527t+get+up.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGGOH4DlOMCrXbklDaMtndTbAC6lDpGhMUMIMEN95WOhhnXBjum-3RecvPAMMk1E9rtc0EWmE2hX0leLfX-77lsLpq-2inVWqpuIRedOGUYXW9Vmw_apV4KCdIU4aV3XswO0uBLiBOYQs/s400/A+Christmas+Story.+Randy.+I+can%2527t+get+up.gif" width="400" /></a></div>
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Another sleep interrupter is my constant nighttime congestion. Nine months of it! I have had practically no crazy pregnancy mood swings (I'm not a crier), but the two times I have gotten emotional were because I was so dang frustrated with the incessant nighttime congestion. </div>
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Excessive saliva is another glamorous pregnancy symptom that's keeping me up at night. The saliva plus the congestion has resulted in some intense sleep drooling. I am actually woken up by the outrageous amount of drool.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRMb3TdX9Kfm_4sn-a3Bod_3-AWnNkb0F6r5vdgcCSTdCtSln3prCJK1lqFy39MnCFrCiljLfQHw8k2GOkmtat1OSm9D0-Y7nONxE1YuhZpbVmOdIWl8t5DEpBEU5euxhqlm5BSZ94evQ/s1600/Frozen.+Anna.+Sleep.+Drool.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRMb3TdX9Kfm_4sn-a3Bod_3-AWnNkb0F6r5vdgcCSTdCtSln3prCJK1lqFy39MnCFrCiljLfQHw8k2GOkmtat1OSm9D0-Y7nONxE1YuhZpbVmOdIWl8t5DEpBEU5euxhqlm5BSZ94evQ/s1600/Frozen.+Anna.+Sleep.+Drool.gif" /></a></div>
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And last but not least for bedtime interrupters is my smoldering heartburn. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8FH9up1EwtZxY3F2la6WNMtBc1Z15uVqNgZpe47YSnVhJG_pGlNlqLAOcU89iMDa29HDDdKUae48S-tqgOcbm-WBy6nnqBmZ_RzoLtJcWOw8DHOgJrJLsfZe1DecL1nSYuPL1NkL9zHc/s1600/Sword+in+the+Stone.+Madam+Mim.+Dragon.+Fire.+Sneeze.+Heart+burn.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8FH9up1EwtZxY3F2la6WNMtBc1Z15uVqNgZpe47YSnVhJG_pGlNlqLAOcU89iMDa29HDDdKUae48S-tqgOcbm-WBy6nnqBmZ_RzoLtJcWOw8DHOgJrJLsfZe1DecL1nSYuPL1NkL9zHc/s1600/Sword+in+the+Stone.+Madam+Mim.+Dragon.+Fire.+Sneeze.+Heart+burn.gif" /></a></div>
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Yup. It's just like that. Basically everything and anything brings it on. So I don't even try the avoidance method. I just keep a steady supply of Tums at the ready.<br />
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But on the bright side, I'm done work! Huzzah!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDxky870rWgCC94pDw83MqKjXn7xdNBl02bv9rSXPxEVEW_HjOvo9f3o8Zac8XQeM8ne-HnItOT_UZLm5l_kanl8tjwdp940acLkuV54fXnZIAm36jArQRYtO5dguDIQDcMpHnEBnIeFg/s1600/Parks+and+Rec.+Andy+happy.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDxky870rWgCC94pDw83MqKjXn7xdNBl02bv9rSXPxEVEW_HjOvo9f3o8Zac8XQeM8ne-HnItOT_UZLm5l_kanl8tjwdp940acLkuV54fXnZIAm36jArQRYtO5dguDIQDcMpHnEBnIeFg/s400/Parks+and+Rec.+Andy+happy.gif" width="400" /></a></div>
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But, while even my doctor said she wouldn't suggest I work past my start of mat leave, I must confess, I am not entirely sure what to do with myself now. As I've gone over thoroughly, mobility is a bit of an issue right now. Plus, I need to be within sight of a bathroom at all times. I've already finished an embarrassing amount of TV series (what did pregnant women do before Netflix and the internet?), and my concentration for reading comes and goes (another issue I've had throughout pregnancy). And I was a bit of a keener where nesting was concerned and pretty much finished the nursery and baby shopping weeks ago.</div>
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I'm 36.5 weeks; so theoretically the baby could come at any point. But then again, the baby could be four plus weeks away. Ugh, that's way too long.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc6exRbNrstU0F1KSMehr2BDP9wAbETl_gILLwANDVHPrlS0evPWVDHVEa8AqxwqOYNqTDUVa0AEUnSq5Kz0QHAy14BOlUuV7P0I7UA3SHscOQWOYTjO2flFLRhvWYhYcYa5vPQ1B6Fj8/s1600/Harry+Potter.+Bellatrix.+I+don%2527t+like+to+be+kept+waiting.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc6exRbNrstU0F1KSMehr2BDP9wAbETl_gILLwANDVHPrlS0evPWVDHVEa8AqxwqOYNqTDUVa0AEUnSq5Kz0QHAy14BOlUuV7P0I7UA3SHscOQWOYTjO2flFLRhvWYhYcYa5vPQ1B6Fj8/s1600/Harry+Potter.+Bellatrix.+I+don%2527t+like+to+be+kept+waiting.gif" /></a></div>
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I hate the unknown waiting game. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJWFcc70TVWvMdn_Ehcoac8VDqTNrsrgTq9oPVipfkZMOH0AJChRHXx-BtEPlE90N3dZjzJLL5-c8fg-nCvFdPdJVxEEHIAzJOkk2WnVtpxb3c-7Gd2fYkfCcdBON7zadaxuaCOYe045o/s1600/Simpsons.+The+waiting+game+sucks.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJWFcc70TVWvMdn_Ehcoac8VDqTNrsrgTq9oPVipfkZMOH0AJChRHXx-BtEPlE90N3dZjzJLL5-c8fg-nCvFdPdJVxEEHIAzJOkk2WnVtpxb3c-7Gd2fYkfCcdBON7zadaxuaCOYe045o/s400/Simpsons.+The+waiting+game+sucks.gif" width="400" /></a></div>
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Of course I'm nervous about labour, birth, and then the sudden thrust into parenthood, but the overwhelming feeling I have is extreme impatience to just have my baby. Just give me my baby already, dang it! </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC48PLa2WwEsGJXsszALUpRVn9mQROXCZ8HaM4dw6SSmiaF0eKSZ2DtHRg6QN5JxBstxcOVoU2_w9qnOmQf_kG2gi39mbkkvK1ZQsx_B5nPH2WYI8trVkOfesGJ_Dt8hCMLpVFuyqbi2I/s1600/Willy+Wonka.+Don%2527t+care+how+I+want+it+now.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC48PLa2WwEsGJXsszALUpRVn9mQROXCZ8HaM4dw6SSmiaF0eKSZ2DtHRg6QN5JxBstxcOVoU2_w9qnOmQf_kG2gi39mbkkvK1ZQsx_B5nPH2WYI8trVkOfesGJ_Dt8hCMLpVFuyqbi2I/s400/Willy+Wonka.+Don%2527t+care+how+I+want+it+now.gif" width="400" /></a></div>
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My baby, and my non-pregnant body. Gimme, gimme, gimme!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6KTYmDcVBp64fYSdNbDI93L80vtZo1VKD5sZ2KYKTh3nSR9FTH25sB56OHQ2MLQjtBaSOEdDPXXqXLEag4d1oBYwJRAN1nOUFBb1teelq47H3JkBhE31ArvzTRa8K-DJwmLQH5Ep3cGg/s1600/The+Producers.+Give+it+to+me.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="186" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6KTYmDcVBp64fYSdNbDI93L80vtZo1VKD5sZ2KYKTh3nSR9FTH25sB56OHQ2MLQjtBaSOEdDPXXqXLEag4d1oBYwJRAN1nOUFBb1teelq47H3JkBhE31ArvzTRa8K-DJwmLQH5Ep3cGg/s400/The+Producers.+Give+it+to+me.gif" width="400" /></a></div>
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<br />Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02910066116982954465noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4925891879156737020.post-17604274584511363052014-08-12T23:41:00.001-07:002014-08-14T10:31:12.582-07:00Broadcast Captioner GIFs<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
Well, good gracious! My <a href="http://frecklesandfizz.blogspot.ca/2014/06/court-reporting-in-gifs.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">Court Reporting GIF</span></a> post had quite the reception!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTVjBwnpjglLzsegn4oLzZ1wZprUP9jzf6Fm99zVYqSmV3Ngya2yxubKan9P-tg1Z9wZQDVBzgUEfmnpS3B06k0BAAwmLaPL-TJzIQSkePrO6NJfMqZ9qwflTl2X-MeqIMBJFWPQ_UpSc/s1600/Singing+in+the+Rain.+Lina+Lamont.+Bless+you+all.+Thank+you.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTVjBwnpjglLzsegn4oLzZ1wZprUP9jzf6Fm99zVYqSmV3Ngya2yxubKan9P-tg1Z9wZQDVBzgUEfmnpS3B06k0BAAwmLaPL-TJzIQSkePrO6NJfMqZ9qwflTl2X-MeqIMBJFWPQ_UpSc/s1600/Singing+in+the+Rain.+Lina+Lamont.+Bless+you+all.+Thank+you.gif" /></a><br />
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Thank you all so much for the responses. I'm very glad that so many of you could get a kick out of it. I've learned that if there's one thing stenographers love, it's relating to one another. And now many of you non-stenogs can understand our unique career as well. And I shall now give you a glimpse into another facet of stenography: broadcast captioning.</div>
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I've been a broadcast captioner for just under two years now, and I love it. There are few careers that are as perfect for me as captioning. I work at home, in my pajamas, watching TV all day. That's what I do with myself anyway, and now I get paid for it.<br />
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But don't get me wrong -- captioning is not easy. Next time you watch news or sports, consider how fast the people are talking. We captioners are trying to keep up with that. I'm usually writing between 250 and 300 WPM. Sometimes as high as 330+ WPM, and we're distinguishing between homonyms at that speed, or trying to, which many people can't even do normally.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHxg6S3PyKeICnomYpIJjkw-0DlBug-qYwtTpX7xdgvrVRQEWISwguKUWQVmTU2rarR-FSW_Zz0BesOOmVKDQ7oaF3zmU_q5I0NvHX46CvBuBI3ShWmqXLN3SPBAefnzAk9fxB7lrijv0/s1600/Robert+Downey+Jr.+Praise.+nod.+that's%2Bright.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHxg6S3PyKeICnomYpIJjkw-0DlBug-qYwtTpX7xdgvrVRQEWISwguKUWQVmTU2rarR-FSW_Zz0BesOOmVKDQ7oaF3zmU_q5I0NvHX46CvBuBI3ShWmqXLN3SPBAefnzAk9fxB7lrijv0/s1600/Robert+Downey+Jr.+Praise.+nod.+that's%2Bright.gif" height="168" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Well, thank you.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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A brief explanation of a broadcast captioner: <span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;">A broadcast captioner is responsible for providing closed caption text during a live television broadcast. </span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;">A broadcast captioner usually watches a television broadcast feed live, as it is being sent out to homes and other receivers, and provides real time captioning through the use of a keyboard designed to make shorthand typing easier and more efficient.</span></i></span></div>
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And now, let us delve into the life of a captioner through the use of GIFs...</div>
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When I tell people I'm a captioner:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxucBeM_L2lpNkFCxdS3-c6Jx9ekQgJilf_2pAYxcyyxvQ6EVpSbjLnxfuG8GLKjc_ZE_bH2lW1AR5eTJcpeTW7IigHT28VolwMZh7TWTOr1FadoOXphVEWAHcezvqsK_yIzNpFo5cRPE/s1600/Jon+Stewart.+Confused.+What.+Huh.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxucBeM_L2lpNkFCxdS3-c6Jx9ekQgJilf_2pAYxcyyxvQ6EVpSbjLnxfuG8GLKjc_ZE_bH2lW1AR5eTJcpeTW7IigHT28VolwMZh7TWTOr1FadoOXphVEWAHcezvqsK_yIzNpFo5cRPE/s1600/Jon+Stewart.+Confused.+What.+Huh.gif" height="238" width="320" /></a></div>
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My career is super obscure. You've probably never heard of it (hashtag: hipster).<br />
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After I've explained what it is I do:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhKiV8sTMpKG77TQJjWIneY_iVeVp1kUD8SSVcVYNwhOuwpzLCqO3BoggNKeaDh_btjBiLR05DZ98j1v45tCII1m1L6fYGbNQTtZFGPIUrO4UoFF1ncE7wbgD_a0WL2AoKQHOUlFGZ4EM/s1600/Tom+Hiddleston.+Mind+Blown.+Amazed.+Shocked.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhKiV8sTMpKG77TQJjWIneY_iVeVp1kUD8SSVcVYNwhOuwpzLCqO3BoggNKeaDh_btjBiLR05DZ98j1v45tCII1m1L6fYGbNQTtZFGPIUrO4UoFF1ncE7wbgD_a0WL2AoKQHOUlFGZ4EM/s1600/Tom+Hiddleston.+Mind+Blown.+Amazed.+Shocked.gif" height="289" width="320" /></a></div>
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"I didn't know that was a person doing that!"</div>
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When I feel the slightest pain in my hands or wrists:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQsavMv-X1VszEwjZReAcUuZpB8ui_9f6sIGo1oPRheb3ncXyR036w-3n46AMRV8jmMWZPmwaK0iA2l_fxcygWvgopZZnX4ERGYJMnbCCDf0pWC0f4HpSQ1sAynpTBvMifge9rBgvXvIs/s1600/Carpal+Tunnel.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQsavMv-X1VszEwjZReAcUuZpB8ui_9f6sIGo1oPRheb3ncXyR036w-3n46AMRV8jmMWZPmwaK0iA2l_fxcygWvgopZZnX4ERGYJMnbCCDf0pWC0f4HpSQ1sAynpTBvMifge9rBgvXvIs/s1600/Carpal+Tunnel.jpeg" height="217" width="400" /></a></div>
Carpal tunnel syndrome: the natural enemy of the stenographer.<br />
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People never understanding my sporadic work schedule:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI27cv_HBI2arcS6ae_8kPb7rgwuwJjzYMDJVttyI58og2LzZJozxfLdeHNkHIGED2BESGKCoEsN91oDbbk8VSRk6CMgdzeizM31MLOUO5HFo5bumR0vEEQdCdHqtbcV7gVzz-LVh3txA/s1600/Pirates+of+the+Caribbean.+Barbossa.+I'm+a+little+busy+at+the+moment.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI27cv_HBI2arcS6ae_8kPb7rgwuwJjzYMDJVttyI58og2LzZJozxfLdeHNkHIGED2BESGKCoEsN91oDbbk8VSRk6CMgdzeizM31MLOUO5HFo5bumR0vEEQdCdHqtbcV7gVzz-LVh3txA/s1600/Pirates+of+the+Caribbean.+Barbossa.+I'm+a+little+busy+at+the+moment.gif" height="235" width="320" /></a></div>
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TV is kind of happening always.<br />
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When programs don't take commercial breaks or end when they're suppose to:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7SDmHKgpmEPpPls_ORxJUWzAD9C6ij2bajIioPKw1BHUdJv-7trMa9pL9Plo4pcoK8gQTIhdJFvK-Z1VMCY114VpWSyBSp2dw5mSJ-whXqH3L6P8Fam0q_iALqqbOQ3hRZPl5bBqlHUY/s1600/Kathy+Bates.+Lies.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7SDmHKgpmEPpPls_ORxJUWzAD9C6ij2bajIioPKw1BHUdJv-7trMa9pL9Plo4pcoK8gQTIhdJFvK-Z1VMCY114VpWSyBSp2dw5mSJ-whXqH3L6P8Fam0q_iALqqbOQ3hRZPl5bBqlHUY/s1600/Kathy+Bates.+Lies.gif" height="223" width="400" /></a></div>
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I plan bathroom breaks around those commercial breaks!</div>
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Waiting for the spelling of a proper noun:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOWZH9R4u1CoTywK6LSQ7u2BM_QoAlmNBdvD8L6fXXWb86Zz3Pwl_Py0_dSkt4pqLWnWex_c_v1isgxRmi1lHsgdCrofHucGpXW1YH-Ly5bY75MD0HlRe6uy2hdfxJtRNCkpBNEKIYrMU/s1600/Community.+Troy.+What+is+taking+so+long.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOWZH9R4u1CoTywK6LSQ7u2BM_QoAlmNBdvD8L6fXXWb86Zz3Pwl_Py0_dSkt4pqLWnWex_c_v1isgxRmi1lHsgdCrofHucGpXW1YH-Ly5bY75MD0HlRe6uy2hdfxJtRNCkpBNEKIYrMU/s1600/Community.+Troy.+What+is+taking+so+long.gif" height="260" width="320" /></a></div>
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The graphics on shows help us out a lot when it comes to spelling random names, but the audio we are listening to is usually a second or two faster than the TV; therefore, we have to work with a delay.<br />
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When a proper noun is so ridiculous I don't even attempt it:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihVu1PMWYHy2OkxnhS_LQLd3okDRuw1UZDTj1NPHG_gwnh2tU4XgD6dYGdlJmkPfnoWnkopCB_EAprRryCs-F1-h1JrcRvldA8iTNs0DNlAK7VtHqwQlT8DszhAouSeZZBu9sBO_le8x8/s1600/Arrested+Development.+Michael.+No.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihVu1PMWYHy2OkxnhS_LQLd3okDRuw1UZDTj1NPHG_gwnh2tU4XgD6dYGdlJmkPfnoWnkopCB_EAprRryCs-F1-h1JrcRvldA8iTNs0DNlAK7VtHqwQlT8DszhAouSeZZBu9sBO_le8x8/s1600/Arrested+Development.+Michael.+No.gif" height="320" width="318" /></a></div>
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Thank heavens for pronouns.<br />
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When people speak with indiscernible accents:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVRmLvyxAox0iWROZ_aE-EVOSddqKRk3v016kAadqj_rbpVQlGTUu2c-P4wJu0SYHEGq9HrQfX0bOvnS6J9ij8tutjwAr0-3noAKDfc9ZONFmB1rOjnydUyAE3k-uyMCMcuckzFIDgHuU/s1600/Miss+Jay.+Confused.+I+don't+know.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVRmLvyxAox0iWROZ_aE-EVOSddqKRk3v016kAadqj_rbpVQlGTUu2c-P4wJu0SYHEGq9HrQfX0bOvnS6J9ij8tutjwAr0-3noAKDfc9ZONFmB1rOjnydUyAE3k-uyMCMcuckzFIDgHuU/s1600/Miss+Jay.+Confused.+I+don't+know.gif" height="248" width="320" /></a></div>
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Say what?<br />
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When weather people joke about how people hate/love them because of the weather:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGF3CCySz0iIaFM8OIxeDqb_WN2TSym2rG7MpVTQx05HgFpcS1Lc_eDWK1FE4atBDwsGYVbbzb47ebSGABGIqBUv7tBCnyPAx1Dolu8J39E-0xN-AuYzZB1-kolGL2o7Pt3NASSnnDGvE/s1600/John+Cleese.+Exasperated.+Frustrated.+No.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGF3CCySz0iIaFM8OIxeDqb_WN2TSym2rG7MpVTQx05HgFpcS1Lc_eDWK1FE4atBDwsGYVbbzb47ebSGABGIqBUv7tBCnyPAx1Dolu8J39E-0xN-AuYzZB1-kolGL2o7Pt3NASSnnDGvE/s1600/John+Cleese.+Exasperated.+Frustrated.+No.gif" height="250" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
This shtick is so overused. Give us some credit. We know you don't control the weather.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Captioning a sport like Tennis:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiczb2eo7K4Gy42GVXeHMEsd40UQq9X2GK9w0axGeGZ3FegcnQtX4yBS1-8CWykLE_9UElnHFsvTfBuE2fgho9F0cWOmerhlsbCN3wPKi3Be05Z6uUBKl49Hsj7vWPx1AM0IIylsL8CAOY/s1600/Chilling.+Taking+it+easy.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiczb2eo7K4Gy42GVXeHMEsd40UQq9X2GK9w0axGeGZ3FegcnQtX4yBS1-8CWykLE_9UElnHFsvTfBuE2fgho9F0cWOmerhlsbCN3wPKi3Be05Z6uUBKl49Hsj7vWPx1AM0IIylsL8CAOY/s1600/Chilling.+Taking+it+easy.gif" height="243" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Easy money. Most of a tennis match is supposed to be silent.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Captioning a sport like hockey:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTMvj-FZIQDellzmrYkXJG9pkOZmIWMKJhtFYbm147oNvdhij7xb6VFwP-jbJXHluJ2WPSFq_To9F0qnaayPoPEYdZvT-MZbHAZOcSKteEUuxboQLP8VGD2W0uq1J_m9Otu6gSoUTnLuA/s1600/Potter+Puppet+Pals.+Scared.+Panic.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTMvj-FZIQDellzmrYkXJG9pkOZmIWMKJhtFYbm147oNvdhij7xb6VFwP-jbJXHluJ2WPSFq_To9F0qnaayPoPEYdZvT-MZbHAZOcSKteEUuxboQLP8VGD2W0uq1J_m9Otu6gSoUTnLuA/s1600/Potter+Puppet+Pals.+Scared.+Panic.gif" height="162" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
STOP SHOUTING RUSSIAN NAMES AT ME!<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Captioning something I hate:</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjICQCMckySssZp0n5tZyl4l8ltcVm8gkHUXzTQyGp7jhdCAZK_p6t6SkpUyFRbo-JTSjY_oZrO3vqqXKpa5lrIfnXHn6AT48PTMoLGaqyLIFIo5lsWW2V1ick94JRP_2HMNvwwPK9Q4K4/s1600/She's+the+Man.+Kill+me.+Death.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjICQCMckySssZp0n5tZyl4l8ltcVm8gkHUXzTQyGp7jhdCAZK_p6t6SkpUyFRbo-JTSjY_oZrO3vqqXKpa5lrIfnXHn6AT48PTMoLGaqyLIFIo5lsWW2V1ick94JRP_2HMNvwwPK9Q4K4/s1600/She's+the+Man.+Kill+me.+Death.gif" height="182" width="320" /></a></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
My number one hated program is WWE Wrestling. Ugh, so stupid.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
When multiple people talk off-camera:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHG6l2bax4dHzPLKgwpuSuM5EWuFgZPsTwYlJzEfpJogvDaHujvf0gQIjxyBI1zUz6d-Hm7g8q-pxznaUzyYKXJAmAwdhLuThvrqiTQbcUQ_TwpNBrp3lKSNAVNQnwk_2V8LHQny7ZpsM/s1600/Sponebob.+Patrick.+Who+are+you+people.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHG6l2bax4dHzPLKgwpuSuM5EWuFgZPsTwYlJzEfpJogvDaHujvf0gQIjxyBI1zUz6d-Hm7g8q-pxznaUzyYKXJAmAwdhLuThvrqiTQbcUQ_TwpNBrp3lKSNAVNQnwk_2V8LHQny7ZpsM/s1600/Sponebob.+Patrick.+Who+are+you+people.gif" height="204" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
In Canadian programming, we distinguish between the anchors with speaker identifications. If there are multiple people of the same gender talking off-camera, this can become a bit of a guessing game.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Captioning breaking news:</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJkttHHuUlc7uOgV1u-5ETi4RZqG3hEoJZKNKItI1iYZOTEAyp-jTL4Ab9nBFl97lUUisQpwMvolxkhoWuTuDhqn9hAZ83EDZxGnebOJ47BQxaa4c6-c4rpZ2FsiuVn9-z6s5OMsifGY0/s1600/LOTR.+Gandalf.+Brace+yourselves.+Courage+is+the+best+dfense+you+have+now.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJkttHHuUlc7uOgV1u-5ETi4RZqG3hEoJZKNKItI1iYZOTEAyp-jTL4Ab9nBFl97lUUisQpwMvolxkhoWuTuDhqn9hAZ83EDZxGnebOJ47BQxaa4c6-c4rpZ2FsiuVn9-z6s5OMsifGY0/s1600/LOTR.+Gandalf.+Brace+yourselves.+Courage+is+the+best+dfense+you+have+now.gif" /></a></div>
Uh-oh, new stuff that may be unknown to me and which many people may tune in for.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Bracing myself for the sports updates:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjonoVoj-FyAHLkZvb-JyegqoGZHbJ2A_1o7HCjUn9NJoQN-aP3fQ7LVVud3vZ1XQsTafazOrbCse_43-RR20hcxIdsfNV8Pu3pnPdpEkKfxTzv_u3Wir3L4-DAa-ELTEPu8vZAksI9g6k/s1600/Jurassic+Park.+Hold+on+to+your+butts.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjonoVoj-FyAHLkZvb-JyegqoGZHbJ2A_1o7HCjUn9NJoQN-aP3fQ7LVVud3vZ1XQsTafazOrbCse_43-RR20hcxIdsfNV8Pu3pnPdpEkKfxTzv_u3Wir3L4-DAa-ELTEPu8vZAksI9g6k/s1600/Jurassic+Park.+Hold+on+to+your+butts.gif" height="206" width="400" /></a></div>
A ton of random sports information coming to you at the speed of light! And it's often a bunch of local high school sports. Do you know what's going on with Saskatoon high school basketball? Me neither.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
When a bunch of numbers are mentioned:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY46jaFyehESi5Xlo305tPTiXHAopv6QWUkoqK6ZQN7N0ytPDrEfXij6i70BDUOia7jmAc2YcCzoivIKKuhHdcoV_s100XprnfHrlFdjQpKJyxNOk8BYvJQFC63lLXSMOvEaCPPBr1KSo/s1600/I'm+done.+Screw+it.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY46jaFyehESi5Xlo305tPTiXHAopv6QWUkoqK6ZQN7N0ytPDrEfXij6i70BDUOia7jmAc2YcCzoivIKKuhHdcoV_s100XprnfHrlFdjQpKJyxNOk8BYvJQFC63lLXSMOvEaCPPBr1KSo/s1600/I'm+done.+Screw+it.gif" height="234" width="320" /></a></div>
You mess up one number in a series and you've screwed up the whole meaning. Thank you to those who just round the numbers to easy figures.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Captioning sad stories about adults:</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM5bQIhR8MJA7WwdxJKUXI_vPNyNfC42aTmubfTdo95uRcWU6nyqWoKfI_wIPA6IzkHla7KqtlxMDTm6vgCm-U0Y6OdLP-PDUXAS1DOHJrBvPdqH6yCbarLhLHEzGat2viTFIj9ybHZSM/s1600/New+Girl.+Zooey+Deschanel.+Frown.+Sad.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM5bQIhR8MJA7WwdxJKUXI_vPNyNfC42aTmubfTdo95uRcWU6nyqWoKfI_wIPA6IzkHla7KqtlxMDTm6vgCm-U0Y6OdLP-PDUXAS1DOHJrBvPdqH6yCbarLhLHEzGat2viTFIj9ybHZSM/s1600/New+Girl.+Zooey+Deschanel.+Frown.+Sad.gif" height="206" width="400" /></a></div>
Pretty sad.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Captioning sad stories about kids:</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkjT4StBERX-q58bRQgMn6UEKPvEwFBuraED1Wu9tSTbYW_y0roX9c5QXb-TcuS_IWdka9xAs-IDXk-61maNsavV9drnwIn2lKlXw0mDDDPRT5428NFKC6iEQCVx3EySZaZrEjiajSq3g/s1600/New+Girl.+Zooey+Deschanel.+Sobbing.+Sad.+Crying.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkjT4StBERX-q58bRQgMn6UEKPvEwFBuraED1Wu9tSTbYW_y0roX9c5QXb-TcuS_IWdka9xAs-IDXk-61maNsavV9drnwIn2lKlXw0mDDDPRT5428NFKC6iEQCVx3EySZaZrEjiajSq3g/s1600/New+Girl.+Zooey+Deschanel.+Sobbing.+Sad.+Crying.gif" height="173" width="400" /></a></div>
Very, really sad.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Captioning sad stories about animals:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEeOqtIoKUiFu35KRdBTHlxQ-LCC7Cz_ifHGzh7jQtkEh-xmkQrB9pAYqlgYuLD1HlWHL7mwsn5zMnZgNHQpydNmTk7YCbjLxCKiAEYPJ7mkzK34OK9ySQQCqatJ_VxtAqaCMV1IXcqto/s1600/New+Girl.+Zooey+Deschanel.+Crying.+Sobbing.+Sad.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEeOqtIoKUiFu35KRdBTHlxQ-LCC7Cz_ifHGzh7jQtkEh-xmkQrB9pAYqlgYuLD1HlWHL7mwsn5zMnZgNHQpydNmTk7YCbjLxCKiAEYPJ7mkzK34OK9ySQQCqatJ_VxtAqaCMV1IXcqto/s1600/New+Girl.+Zooey+Deschanel.+Crying.+Sobbing.+Sad.gif" height="223" width="400" /></a></div>
I can't see the TV through my tears.<br />
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Never knowing the weather in my own city:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguV00vn6ctpfiL8rO_kv8IrBlwuptp1HQ7FoCR9FRWRdv8sgNKP8AId7QJ9mBW3HEhgJKIp5evadrTTFU2AZUuumWVto7N5Au-kGt2E0NtTNL-E31dLex07Mh3VA3tLcwXim3Edy81cyA/s1600/Devil+Wears+Prada.+Storm.+Just+drizzling.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguV00vn6ctpfiL8rO_kv8IrBlwuptp1HQ7FoCR9FRWRdv8sgNKP8AId7QJ9mBW3HEhgJKIp5evadrTTFU2AZUuumWVto7N5Au-kGt2E0NtTNL-E31dLex07Mh3VA3tLcwXim3Edy81cyA/s1600/Devil+Wears+Prada.+Storm.+Just+drizzling.gif" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
I'm often captioning shows for cities and provinces other than my own. As a result, I can be very informed on, say, Windsor, Ontario, but have no clue what's going on in Calgary. Because of that, and the fact that I am a shut-in, antisocial hermit who works from home (and likes it that way), the 2013 Calgary flood came as a surprise to me. "Oh, it's been raining lots?"<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Being super informed about everything:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5GtylwzbiTtg6iqp82tXL6KE1Ca2UTnN6dJCZaLJFpNiBtET63Mg8KUeImZIyFi3gL9AHUbP-89WKke_Afl2KZEYwwBswGLQFhSuGtK0oU4M-pX_VAeRtygwTiQWco-un1GgbKDf8yG8/s1600/Downton+Abbey.+Maggie.+Violet.+I'm+never+wrong.+I+know+everything.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5GtylwzbiTtg6iqp82tXL6KE1Ca2UTnN6dJCZaLJFpNiBtET63Mg8KUeImZIyFi3gL9AHUbP-89WKke_Afl2KZEYwwBswGLQFhSuGtK0oU4M-pX_VAeRtygwTiQWco-un1GgbKDf8yG8/s1600/Downton+Abbey.+Maggie.+Violet.+I'm+never+wrong.+I+know+everything.gif" height="223" width="400" /></a></div>
But, in terms of national/international news, I am ridiculously well-informed.<br />
"Have you heard about the incident in Syria where--" <br />
"Yes."<br />
"Did you hear about that wild fire in--"<br />
"Yes"<br />
"Did you know that in Israel--"<br />
"Yes."<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
When I have an amazing brief for something:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWmDtc5GWFagEO4OC-YRs7Gr3tVnM0E5ZuIo6dPYoyrjL10GqX5dxKNlhkdd_VHjDIWH9S6WtNp96jrpy5PfxE2FvHe7W7e-3z66-Jy2RToe33n1rQwuCS0ksvrsdW0L5KLQHy8f9IIcU/s1600/You've+Got+Mail.+Send.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWmDtc5GWFagEO4OC-YRs7Gr3tVnM0E5ZuIo6dPYoyrjL10GqX5dxKNlhkdd_VHjDIWH9S6WtNp96jrpy5PfxE2FvHe7W7e-3z66-Jy2RToe33n1rQwuCS0ksvrsdW0L5KLQHy8f9IIcU/s1600/You've+Got+Mail.+Send.gif" height="237" width="320" /></a></div>
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Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, you say? Well, let me get that with one stroke.</div>
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Let me explain, when stenographers write words, we typically aren't doing it letter by letter like keyboard typing. It's a lot more like piano chords and focusing on the phonetics rather than the spelling of a word. To be able to write faster and more efficiently, we come up with "briefs". Briefs make it possible to write complicated, long, or frequent words with just a stroke or two. For example, I can write the words "federal government" in one stroke: F*G, which looks like this:<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd4xBt_w69fU-6pp54cBkO76cvgvPSQ3VVJgNbH6ResBlV1UdEuX1Xo6wyQ3YVDdnCgu6BOgcB6P-C9kQ4F-P5R9-zxq1GEClBzN-aNqtESpwFiLzmcW18tMDPVCNhc8QvoGyoOgSK-KQ/s1600/Steno.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd4xBt_w69fU-6pp54cBkO76cvgvPSQ3VVJgNbH6ResBlV1UdEuX1Xo6wyQ3YVDdnCgu6BOgcB6P-C9kQ4F-P5R9-zxq1GEClBzN-aNqtESpwFiLzmcW18tMDPVCNhc8QvoGyoOgSK-KQ/s1600/Steno.png" height="226" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(In steno language, TP = F)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
When I didn't think there was a chance a word would translate but did:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzfp_-_akvEc5liXyMYK3KgxKgKBaRBXMVxe7KVAL3UzvpYGRB2TTnP3mZ2gZNVneKwq3qroNeD0OZQxWbIC9yNlnxDRSY6IeSNwexTS8tmWTvtxC7HNV75_ztyfxWQXMnWgmDhuBXeGo/s1600/Thumbs+up.+approve.+nod.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzfp_-_akvEc5liXyMYK3KgxKgKBaRBXMVxe7KVAL3UzvpYGRB2TTnP3mZ2gZNVneKwq3qroNeD0OZQxWbIC9yNlnxDRSY6IeSNwexTS8tmWTvtxC7HNV75_ztyfxWQXMnWgmDhuBXeGo/s1600/Thumbs+up.+approve.+nod.gif" /></a></div>
The computer program we use takes our gibberish steno language (i.e. F*G = federal government) and translates it to English. To do this, we have our own "dictionaries" for our personal writing styles (F*G may not mean "federal government" for other stenogs; it could mean "Freaks and Geeks" -- great show). Sometimes I am pleasantly surprised by some words that end up translating due to the fact that, at some point, I put them in my dictionary. Adversely, sometimes very simple, obvious words aren't in my dictionary and, therefore, do not translate (which then remains as our gibberish steno language).<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
When <i>Brief It</i> saves my bacon:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7aUkv1vJU_GgAV1dARSesfLo3Kg7Wl9e-8nj2ggnwI24jAPlL7LUP590cN1tg-FLB-AP9mcf-vEP5QAz0h-DKRNfvlHTlbIvS_zp6uLxYQX4CdiObisu38KGoG61Z8-Upbrvsy1piqE0/s1600/Well+done+sir.+Slow+Clap.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7aUkv1vJU_GgAV1dARSesfLo3Kg7Wl9e-8nj2ggnwI24jAPlL7LUP590cN1tg-FLB-AP9mcf-vEP5QAz0h-DKRNfvlHTlbIvS_zp6uLxYQX4CdiObisu38KGoG61Z8-Upbrvsy1piqE0/s1600/Well+done+sir.+Slow+Clap.gif" /></a></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Brief It </i>is a function on our software. If I'm being an idiot and writing a word(s) inefficiently, it will either remind me that I have a better way to write this or come up with something on the spot to make my life much easier.<br />
<i>Brief It</i>: Paige, you're writing "infectious mononucleosis" in eight strokes, like a dufus. How about this one-stroke option?<br />
Paige: Why thank you, <i>Brief It</i>. What would I ever do without you?<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
When <i>Brief It</i> doesn't give me good advice:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq_PuH-eWyeIL0RGNbqK9450JfgH7VZShtTNb4MhO-EyO0CCXHuiHX8zTdTGePnCm5EyBdWT2VjHKLGT9u9gYCORsiSTVq4xDiWM9caRuvTM1QzI1U7OVUfoNUWOHdl_iOZ7wjFFJ-cUU/s1600/Toy+Story.+After+all+we've+been+through.+Betray.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq_PuH-eWyeIL0RGNbqK9450JfgH7VZShtTNb4MhO-EyO0CCXHuiHX8zTdTGePnCm5EyBdWT2VjHKLGT9u9gYCORsiSTVq4xDiWM9caRuvTM1QzI1U7OVUfoNUWOHdl_iOZ7wjFFJ-cUU/s1600/Toy+Story.+After+all+we've+been+through.+Betray.jpg" height="223" width="400" /></a></div>
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However, sometimes <i>Brief It</i> doesn't come through and I'm stuck with "finger spelling" (more like keyboard typing) some long name that I didn't have entered in my dictionary until I can come up with something better during a commercial.<br />
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When that one word I can never write correctly is said:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH4z_j58veE2cWs-oO_GEzfn-MfvwxYKWVSfrO0-72XJmqMPQhJQVNfa8R5o1lueiAvdulQJ21-XTMJKZtRrGHJni2uvhv7ELSGoiXqPj-1pWpNdU1TBoGOVBs5Ow4XzTFvn9XkhPFTXc/s1600/Tina+Fey.+Amy+Poehler.+You're+my+nemesis.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH4z_j58veE2cWs-oO_GEzfn-MfvwxYKWVSfrO0-72XJmqMPQhJQVNfa8R5o1lueiAvdulQJ21-XTMJKZtRrGHJni2uvhv7ELSGoiXqPj-1pWpNdU1TBoGOVBs5Ow4XzTFvn9XkhPFTXc/s1600/Tina+Fey.+Amy+Poehler.+You're+my+nemesis.gif" height="320" width="256" /></a></div>
The words "electrocution" and "electrocuted" seem to be my nemeses. A good brief for them, which I'll actually remember, eludes me.<br />
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Needing to pee during a show:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheJ4drePzfI4Q7hLhV5-Q4fGjvBUmw4iSo-lfL-vAqCGh9ZRqbN3t8E1qK6EgFDUMqVpRpOKLVX2jOOPKTL-WdyFU0FO1X51_S7R474JOD3vwLHyVBdJSz5r4muPGNwjNkXg9537IioJU/s1600/ForrestGump.I've%2Bgotta%2Bpee.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheJ4drePzfI4Q7hLhV5-Q4fGjvBUmw4iSo-lfL-vAqCGh9ZRqbN3t8E1qK6EgFDUMqVpRpOKLVX2jOOPKTL-WdyFU0FO1X51_S7R474JOD3vwLHyVBdJSz5r4muPGNwjNkXg9537IioJU/s1600/ForrestGump.I've%2Bgotta%2Bpee.gif" /></a></div>
No! Don't do that story about Niagara Falls!<br />
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Going to the bathroom during a commercial break:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmda32Awo0W9ShMV-8d0MECeFPRq7DZirEjKJKstaYfs_7izI3T6PCSzoNQd8SxnjHkFIc-Go_2KFYgHyq84MVKsobqhuqRYsKQ07bmELrRRIj_zKoVZmlK1swF9I__CHknceph11PlC0/s1600/Forrest+Gump.+Running.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmda32Awo0W9ShMV-8d0MECeFPRq7DZirEjKJKstaYfs_7izI3T6PCSzoNQd8SxnjHkFIc-Go_2KFYgHyq84MVKsobqhuqRYsKQ07bmELrRRIj_zKoVZmlK1swF9I__CHknceph11PlC0/s1600/Forrest+Gump.+Running.gif" height="261" width="400" /></a></div>
Sweet relief!<br />
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When I have to write song lyrics:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8MppxfAhINUiMsgHWpuAeXkJUobVgFTzqBtiQlZuvnVnk7-TwkCX2iPrYZvBsZBMY6RKbj82JWjkEIzWutdIb-E5eUVNvA7E95o6nmk3JROLWLzWylRvOgmEU04u2fIoiuqEtiXKeilY/s1600/Austin+Powers.+Say+what.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8MppxfAhINUiMsgHWpuAeXkJUobVgFTzqBtiQlZuvnVnk7-TwkCX2iPrYZvBsZBMY6RKbj82JWjkEIzWutdIb-E5eUVNvA7E95o6nmk3JROLWLzWylRvOgmEU04u2fIoiuqEtiXKeilY/s1600/Austin+Powers.+Say+what.gif" height="211" width="400" /></a></div>
Ever tried to figure out every single word in <i>Informer</i> by Snow and then write them in real-time? I have.<br />
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It didn't go so well.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
When people are talking way too fast to even consider throwing in punctuation:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFyRBNLTjKnsEyaFT00ASjM8nud3PYFJPpNoM7Xy7_oPOXbgcBglE9_9WLaKvyEmsiEDyLnxeAQpTbZW-WE9CHF2hIOr7flLHZitmRhV1vL-vRdOWxbn5RXgW_l4S0MKO4sq12PFKKYHU/s1600/Sweet+Georgie+Brown.+Ain't+nobody+got+time+for+that.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFyRBNLTjKnsEyaFT00ASjM8nud3PYFJPpNoM7Xy7_oPOXbgcBglE9_9WLaKvyEmsiEDyLnxeAQpTbZW-WE9CHF2hIOr7flLHZitmRhV1vL-vRdOWxbn5RXgW_l4S0MKO4sq12PFKKYHU/s1600/Sweet+Georgie+Brown.+Ain't+nobody+got+time+for+that.gif" height="223" width="400" /></a></div>
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You want punctuation? Tell the crazies on TV to slow down!</div>
<br />
When I'm trying to retain what was said so as to not drop words:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3VqmP1X063bl67VKTlRYmKELF4LyhZ8I2JMwWWpbiBd30i9bCnEMnknGiEBMususcxwgE7KXCdb7WQc2iIcftO3JY13Pk9wF-Y9QfaEqtdJpUxegoA8e1E0JqeRUoToMWZSKcQYmWip8/s1600/Toy+Story.+Soldiers.+Go+on+without+me.+A+good+soldier+never+gets+left+behind.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3VqmP1X063bl67VKTlRYmKELF4LyhZ8I2JMwWWpbiBd30i9bCnEMnknGiEBMususcxwgE7KXCdb7WQc2iIcftO3JY13Pk9wF-Y9QfaEqtdJpUxegoA8e1E0JqeRUoToMWZSKcQYmWip8/s1600/Toy+Story.+Soldiers.+Go+on+without+me.+A+good+soldier+never+gets+left+behind.gif" height="400" width="355" /></a></div>
Obviously, sometimes we just can't keep up with the speakers. But we try our darndest.<br />
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When someone phones or rings the doorbell while I'm writing:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge0fUNP5aJ0iz8hv79cVIJWoy3o5Yrijp3n0Zk9r_bW1uZ9he5qk_ea2-Hhbof3k8uHbUJBOQUGHYG9n8ituKRqJ5lHhTmTogcP85nZ5M8bUCGLz3Zcs4NXKw8O6dDBTEYHdUbG2Z8rgg/s1600/Gone+with+the+Wind.+Scarlet.+Is+that+so.+Oh+really.+How+dare+you.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge0fUNP5aJ0iz8hv79cVIJWoy3o5Yrijp3n0Zk9r_bW1uZ9he5qk_ea2-Hhbof3k8uHbUJBOQUGHYG9n8ituKRqJ5lHhTmTogcP85nZ5M8bUCGLz3Zcs4NXKw8O6dDBTEYHdUbG2Z8rgg/s1600/Gone+with+the+Wind.+Scarlet.+Is+that+so.+Oh+really.+How+dare+you.gif" height="320" width="261" /></a></div>
How dare you?<br />
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When people start cussing off-camera:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtnowbQ5upsyPOzi3GHfxGFwGm8BFgedI2JxFW7Dkvgtk5yG-B8T5sPJBcP_SiMDA3IPJJJQC3kUrsL3eJwiQ2BQcQsV9O2LAXg2Yp6bt_nRSXSodJmEU218wIWDvP2QQLAlweq8QKT1g/s1600/Miss+Jay.+Oh+my.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtnowbQ5upsyPOzi3GHfxGFwGm8BFgedI2JxFW7Dkvgtk5yG-B8T5sPJBcP_SiMDA3IPJJJQC3kUrsL3eJwiQ2BQcQsV9O2LAXg2Yp6bt_nRSXSodJmEU218wIWDvP2QQLAlweq8QKT1g/s1600/Miss+Jay.+Oh+my.gif" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
The cameras may have turned off, but my audio line hasn't, potty mouths.<br />
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When anchors/reporters make a bad joke:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1mmnUqMVn8oeMuzhlitovZgtpktkKjXexpSCppkr0HNc11cx7gPM-xn1Zxd3MFHGC_rpgIHu1TLigXwmeX3jUz10wPm1feDOEIGUDCERtMD9yWEWb2baGt8DNFbT7xQS-SlvzlOzuNvw/s1600/Mary+Poppins.+Sigh.+Annoyed.+Exasperated+2.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1mmnUqMVn8oeMuzhlitovZgtpktkKjXexpSCppkr0HNc11cx7gPM-xn1Zxd3MFHGC_rpgIHu1TLigXwmeX3jUz10wPm1feDOEIGUDCERtMD9yWEWb2baGt8DNFbT7xQS-SlvzlOzuNvw/s1600/Mary+Poppins.+Sigh.+Annoyed.+Exasperated+2.gif" height="178" width="400" /></a></div>
Ugh.<br />
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When stations take forever to do a modem test:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6jaZq03z_3RI_YsWOwUKYIwAsLhOnOnk4zkFYCkXxQh6albNASagYJHezw-2HMVUALxD6wwYcykkXU_JqvcrHDVvfZSr42zcbaVI2_gwjveNbP35CDgUTKAkcnqBABSQ98On-mmUDgvs/s1600/Grinch.+Impatient.+I'm%2Bwaiting.%2BHurry.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6jaZq03z_3RI_YsWOwUKYIwAsLhOnOnk4zkFYCkXxQh6albNASagYJHezw-2HMVUALxD6wwYcykkXU_JqvcrHDVvfZSr42zcbaVI2_gwjveNbP35CDgUTKAkcnqBABSQ98On-mmUDgvs/s1600/Grinch.+Impatient.+I'm%2Bwaiting.%2BHurry.gif" height="236" width="320" /></a></div>
Some stations require us to test our equipment with theirs before the show starts to make sure everything is in working order. Some stations are more timely than others.<br />
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When a station plays tone:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7F6iVR2SP-Tt8TQmnjw757O8ExsYKwsY3jahMd6lL9uib7Wdd2PNz6AEktUHIH8M0zCxkglTggVH4b9cNdY4ODrTJf8b7642nRFgiVOHiZS6mG6pDhC2FG745MCOSeWSHYZCC9j_SQ3c/s1600/Seinfeld.+Elaine.+Hearing+Aid.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7F6iVR2SP-Tt8TQmnjw757O8ExsYKwsY3jahMd6lL9uib7Wdd2PNz6AEktUHIH8M0zCxkglTggVH4b9cNdY4ODrTJf8b7642nRFgiVOHiZS6mG6pDhC2FG745MCOSeWSHYZCC9j_SQ3c/s1600/Seinfeld.+Elaine.+Hearing+Aid.gif" height="269" width="400" /></a></div>
Stations will sometimes play tone on our audio line for various reasons, and it's often deafening.<br />
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When I realize I've been using the wrong caption placement for who knows how long:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4Xqd9ImL3cxp2Icqc78kKLJEwPAuHBHnTJExKZ-GP7dD5Ms3jksb7nF2tbT0ROv0t-42j1gkjKjeCWwmCpamie44Sr2IvoYrJLuuecwGx0Tpb-Y_NpAWh37P4srHeJPCJopSlMzcnA0Y/s1600/Community.+Britta.+Facepalm.+Crap.+Oh+no.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4Xqd9ImL3cxp2Icqc78kKLJEwPAuHBHnTJExKZ-GP7dD5Ms3jksb7nF2tbT0ROv0t-42j1gkjKjeCWwmCpamie44Sr2IvoYrJLuuecwGx0Tpb-Y_NpAWh37P4srHeJPCJopSlMzcnA0Y/s1600/Community.+Britta.+Facepalm.+Crap.+Oh+no.gif" height="223" width="400" /></a></div>
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Different stations have different caption placements (bottom, middle, top), and on top of that, some stations will have multiple placements for different segments (i.e. news is middle, weather is top).<br />
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When I'm writing and breaking news comes up:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNanTboAAUronhyphenhyphenIaHhyphenhyphenEUhT4g7oWuX8gpDdBVE9Axtsi4EmQ3h3QVvgtQ-78gaUaCNXvdlODERKIlddaYazj9kJqKps2UQg0flGMHlkbkZJq38KUw0isIDQEpe_H4k969J2s_WxJ4oyQ/s1600/Friends.+Phoebe.+Brand+new+information.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNanTboAAUronhyphenhyphenIaHhyphenhyphenEUhT4g7oWuX8gpDdBVE9Axtsi4EmQ3h3QVvgtQ-78gaUaCNXvdlODERKIlddaYazj9kJqKps2UQg0flGMHlkbkZJq38KUw0isIDQEpe_H4k969J2s_WxJ4oyQ/s1600/Friends.+Phoebe.+Brand+new+information.gif" height="160" width="400" /></a></div>
Pretty hard to stay focused when crazy news is breaking. Just a couple days ago I was captioning when the news of Robin Williams's death broke. Luckily, it was right as the program was ending. So I just trailed off, rather ungracefully, as I digested the news and began the mourning period.<br />
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When there's only boring news:</div>
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There can be some pretty slow news days.<br />
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When the modem won't connect:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0GZ38BZ74TecSvgUct48zQ2cZQoMJPmgg2ombhm_z7Anh3cLTmpLcFQdZhXTS3OtlKpnzsqJyCUT4zlTwUEHfWcEp-k89vaBspuwKRA8YqHfhAhCHqAl6ib7urnCupMHLNSleRVCnyEQ/s1600/Power+Rangers.+Oh+no.+Death+no.+Kill+me+now.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0GZ38BZ74TecSvgUct48zQ2cZQoMJPmgg2ombhm_z7Anh3cLTmpLcFQdZhXTS3OtlKpnzsqJyCUT4zlTwUEHfWcEp-k89vaBspuwKRA8YqHfhAhCHqAl6ib7urnCupMHLNSleRVCnyEQ/s1600/Power+Rangers.+Oh+no.+Death+no.+Kill+me+now.gif" height="223" width="400" /></a></div>
As always, technology can be finicky. If a modem (or internet) connection cannot be made (for whatever unknown reason) we can't get captions to the TV. Pretty big problem.<br />
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Made-up words or modern jargon:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOc8VhWIduSpzAmEJAol6dU6ycZ8o0eE9qH-fkhpoIcMN46kkSC5t_fpzrUqUTrvJzbKcioYvFfkv9EdA99p7hGFuruWiPbUfaEdfiPKAgb6HoHaZLzjluMcC1MKsdDxlez19mYSSNVNA/s1600/Home+Alone.+Cocking+Gun.+Kill.+Angry.+Hate.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOc8VhWIduSpzAmEJAol6dU6ycZ8o0eE9qH-fkhpoIcMN46kkSC5t_fpzrUqUTrvJzbKcioYvFfkv9EdA99p7hGFuruWiPbUfaEdfiPKAgb6HoHaZLzjluMcC1MKsdDxlez19mYSSNVNA/s1600/Home+Alone.+Cocking+Gun.+Kill.+Angry.+Hate.gif" height="215" width="400" /></a></div>
Do you realize how difficult you make my life by saying something "trendy" like "staycation"?<br />
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Trying to avoid sneezing during a show:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh01eiLNf2cSc28_f3GD-GurnNv0ikw8wUzzphkt3xyQtqR4gKG5Am233y1BFpaxBMbv4d1m1MxdRlPjwQCWjRy8QoEVaIs7RB8e5iRukyl8H5dFkjXiNfQyWd9tOpWIKDnqAL99aF_QPA/s1600/Robert+Downey+Jr.+Need+to+sneeze.+Freaking+out.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh01eiLNf2cSc28_f3GD-GurnNv0ikw8wUzzphkt3xyQtqR4gKG5Am233y1BFpaxBMbv4d1m1MxdRlPjwQCWjRy8QoEVaIs7RB8e5iRukyl8H5dFkjXiNfQyWd9tOpWIKDnqAL99aF_QPA/s1600/Robert+Downey+Jr.+Need+to+sneeze.+Freaking+out.gif" height="215" width="400" /></a></div>
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Sneezing is trouble. A sneeze attack resulted in my most hilarious captioning mishap to date:</div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>(Acutal Excerpt)</i></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>>> 40 POLICE AGENCIES WERE INVOLVED, UNCOVERING SOME 2 MILLION IMAGES OF CHILD PEPPERONI. </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>-- PORNOGRAPHY.</i></span></div>
(Don't worry, I saved it at the end there...)<br />
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When I have an itch while writing:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9z-OBPeEelGotZ3wh0bhC06X3wJTLWhiY5g9EBuyDbvGbNbJPbnofYvXkZjAJajhQylFo2F99hIAy9Ljaho_w6eKKKJM9ppDdJ77wjN0xYzHD8ajyBOvHAOj90pbRpSkJSYlk57Gp0w4/s1600/Seinfeld.+Jerry.+Itch+2.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9z-OBPeEelGotZ3wh0bhC06X3wJTLWhiY5g9EBuyDbvGbNbJPbnofYvXkZjAJajhQylFo2F99hIAy9Ljaho_w6eKKKJM9ppDdJ77wjN0xYzHD8ajyBOvHAOj90pbRpSkJSYlk57Gp0w4/s1600/Seinfeld.+Jerry.+Itch+2.gif" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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I have to be speedy with my itching, lest I miss any captions.<br />
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How I feel driving a car now:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhawUHcX5xco3bdqzTeyU4WJhKElDerd2B-QY8UF0TTqeQK2cq3Ue85ipy3lH1QLvQbOQe2Be_iBxQ8XTCrsQqJJuGxkZ2MVMBKUWwZmPPKARXGJY1CIGtoFWxgOopUKOh0g1T3SQlCTg0/s1600/Billy+Madison.+Chris+Farley.+Driving+bus.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhawUHcX5xco3bdqzTeyU4WJhKElDerd2B-QY8UF0TTqeQK2cq3Ue85ipy3lH1QLvQbOQe2Be_iBxQ8XTCrsQqJJuGxkZ2MVMBKUWwZmPPKARXGJY1CIGtoFWxgOopUKOh0g1T3SQlCTg0/s1600/Billy+Madison.+Chris+Farley.+Driving+bus.gif" height="224" width="400" /></a></div>
Court reporting and then captioning has given me a pretty grim view on driving in those death traps called "automobiles". I wonder if I've written a news segment that didn't mention a car accident.<br />
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When people on the news are overly cheery in the morning:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidNN13uBAyiLu4PTeOTxSE486QKWekj8HIURkBKB5j9-HpWWdqoFk4nI1-9913GjRpfv58K-jfJhyphenhyphenWqGye-Q-E714KurLLhXGt-vVNdY0_CllD-qCj8fwY_nGC7M-D55gdk3hE1Tt_zXw/s1600/The+Office.+Michael+Scott.+Steve+Carell.+Unimpressed.+Annoyed.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidNN13uBAyiLu4PTeOTxSE486QKWekj8HIURkBKB5j9-HpWWdqoFk4nI1-9913GjRpfv58K-jfJhyphenhyphenWqGye-Q-E714KurLLhXGt-vVNdY0_CllD-qCj8fwY_nGC7M-D55gdk3hE1Tt_zXw/s1600/The+Office.+Michael+Scott.+Steve+Carell.+Unimpressed.+Annoyed.gif" height="192" width="400" /></a></div>
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It's 5 a.m. Stop smiling!</div>
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When names are spelled ridiculously:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZAnURpbgCzooBXVd4tiLf0rwf6hxoX9GXoA5EPLQrcZ7hr_8iPCPAwaZeZ0HxWuk_ZW37os4pHYM738YCrLk2sFwM36WHKl-3Uue24MRv_SA-Y6F1D6pT3II3hystkX7Ejs_6h_DQYek/s1600/Grinch.+Hate.+Double+hate.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZAnURpbgCzooBXVd4tiLf0rwf6hxoX9GXoA5EPLQrcZ7hr_8iPCPAwaZeZ0HxWuk_ZW37os4pHYM738YCrLk2sFwM36WHKl-3Uue24MRv_SA-Y6F1D6pT3II3hystkX7Ejs_6h_DQYek/s1600/Grinch.+Hate.+Double+hate.gif" height="255" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 16px; text-align: left;">This makes life for a captioner so difficult.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 16px; text-align: left;">Mcynyzy? </span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 16px; text-align: left;">Alxandyr? </span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 16px; text-align: left;">Madysyn? </span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 16px; text-align: left;">Evyrytt? Seriously, people!? GET THOSE Ys OUT OF THERE!</span></span><br />
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When it's the anchors I like:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgke719pVeK_MWx7YiUpoXU9p3jzq86yssL88HMo1SoTsTShUHfdUMophaK_2g9fiNAeFwDkg0pVw4oCf9ExtckGP-tXLnv8yVcPXVhdoXIJ7NkUUC7o6GUCSlIdwYaRVjpMW642FmRsKg/s1600/Michael+Jackson.+Amused.+Eating+popcorn+2.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgke719pVeK_MWx7YiUpoXU9p3jzq86yssL88HMo1SoTsTShUHfdUMophaK_2g9fiNAeFwDkg0pVw4oCf9ExtckGP-tXLnv8yVcPXVhdoXIJ7NkUUC7o6GUCSlIdwYaRVjpMW642FmRsKg/s1600/Michael+Jackson.+Amused.+Eating+popcorn+2.gif" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
Yay! TV fun time.<br />
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When it's the anchors I don't like:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfSi5t_sGdhKCoSKWHudh0CDGuo26BnkMiOdvNRJfquHPRi3WJjoXGiclzUCzrc0UJjtDy7KvYJjEMhtTE7wAkyxN9c0SL0tecG_1mtMF9xh_eNZ6S0YDDDrrcMDXkqgeXUtZNjH0FJe4/s1600/Star+Trek.+Sad+Kirk.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfSi5t_sGdhKCoSKWHudh0CDGuo26BnkMiOdvNRJfquHPRi3WJjoXGiclzUCzrc0UJjtDy7KvYJjEMhtTE7wAkyxN9c0SL0tecG_1mtMF9xh_eNZ6S0YDDDrrcMDXkqgeXUtZNjH0FJe4/s1600/Star+Trek.+Sad+Kirk.gif" height="252" width="320" /></a></div>
Ugh. It's the Speedy Gonzales of the news world.<br />
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When the reporter could not have picked a noisier place:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimuJCyhTydLVOsR7UD5GR9CK8AzYVdu0ppW35bQ5193_39CnZUd9LOyWCjd_CjEzNUxMTI-sjEXBBjumNzy3EVQU4a143OZwaU1_2yi8q50VqkiRh8Hzs8qJoGy_hQ3VYFtCRrGCtG9p8/s1600/Oprah.+Head+shake.+Disappointed..gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimuJCyhTydLVOsR7UD5GR9CK8AzYVdu0ppW35bQ5193_39CnZUd9LOyWCjd_CjEzNUxMTI-sjEXBBjumNzy3EVQU4a143OZwaU1_2yi8q50VqkiRh8Hzs8qJoGy_hQ3VYFtCRrGCtG9p8/s1600/Oprah.+Head+shake.+Disappointed..gif" /></a></div>
Really? You had to do your story right next to a blender?<br />
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When they talk about news that I'm interested in:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4LnznAaMwBxY_LbnxkvCy8IWeMY1UtchLlRyisAEjNuwACULB_oTHeDMpDME03Tmr9WfXcrTI2f3TyjPEAEp8ItmNfplE1_g5FP9MjylIFz2z_HMSjeU2o768FoXZFJT4HlJwHgKnlX4/s1600/Seinfeld.+Elaine.+Lipstick.+Huh.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4LnznAaMwBxY_LbnxkvCy8IWeMY1UtchLlRyisAEjNuwACULB_oTHeDMpDME03Tmr9WfXcrTI2f3TyjPEAEp8ItmNfplE1_g5FP9MjylIFz2z_HMSjeU2o768FoXZFJT4HlJwHgKnlX4/s1600/Seinfeld.+Elaine.+Lipstick.+Huh.gif" /></a></div>
What's that about free doughnuts in Calgary?<br />
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Those days where I just can't seem to write well:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5CGQ_2s5gnzBGZP8pW9Fj9dmuQwlVnu4F5FX3KMa7GSNcD7SIjSkB29gSe0Ll7MN_kV1MftDG9-15vaFjFNSIweCYqYfdrxsJoFIhftt3L54LWmu46151ShaU5AoLAqvQSc6DZgRZuxg/s1600/Annoyed.+Frustrated.+I+give+up.+Screw+it.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5CGQ_2s5gnzBGZP8pW9Fj9dmuQwlVnu4F5FX3KMa7GSNcD7SIjSkB29gSe0Ll7MN_kV1MftDG9-15vaFjFNSIweCYqYfdrxsJoFIhftt3L54LWmu46151ShaU5AoLAqvQSc6DZgRZuxg/s1600/Annoyed.+Frustrated.+I+give+up.+Screw+it.gif" height="252" width="400" /></a></div>
You have forsaken me, fingers.<br />
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Those days when I am a speed demon and can do nothing wrong:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNS7Exut2HVZ4yGQp377CWD-q9Atb_-K0GGsJe9Otg6H9IZw0tHLOdWsRAlYBqxtB0ZrAAPU_Y8IfwB9Qdh0rJGAeBnFHgrLsCRXWkuCzxjsQXFYeUU40rCEubGUYxqGTEe8KuzsefxbQ/s1600/The+King's%2BSpeech.%2BLike%2Ba%2Bboss.%2BSuccessful.%2BAwesome.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNS7Exut2HVZ4yGQp377CWD-q9Atb_-K0GGsJe9Otg6H9IZw0tHLOdWsRAlYBqxtB0ZrAAPU_Y8IfwB9Qdh0rJGAeBnFHgrLsCRXWkuCzxjsQXFYeUU40rCEubGUYxqGTEe8KuzsefxbQ/s1600/The+King's%2BSpeech.%2BLike%2Ba%2Bboss.%2BSuccessful.%2BAwesome.gif" height="223" width="400" /></a></div>
You're welcome, TV viewers.<br />
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When my colleagues help me out:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzGHhhyphenhyphenIkucZvkubpWsjm8t0-0DYIKkhvF_YcBPnIsi1lSEIzUtqn2pnuw4Hz1AHqz6xdRTxYiMEk3TC4FQC3r2WvjyVTWTJqEZ9gsSdETT2Qc-CS0qMvXD9fsaIu5CIDLu6x_mjb-sTE/s1600/Oprah.+Touched.+Emotional.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzGHhhyphenhyphenIkucZvkubpWsjm8t0-0DYIKkhvF_YcBPnIsi1lSEIzUtqn2pnuw4Hz1AHqz6xdRTxYiMEk3TC4FQC3r2WvjyVTWTJqEZ9gsSdETT2Qc-CS0qMvXD9fsaIu5CIDLu6x_mjb-sTE/s1600/Oprah.+Touched.+Emotional.gif" /></a></div>
I work with some pretty great people who are always so willing to help out.<br />
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When a tremendously bad error gets through the cracks:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7cxGiLl4JjmJ3t9lzujdTP_8JAWasANNsXrQfduJE2e_J8kTrBkV3kMdb8urhISWn6UOWG_Uf-ZLyhX82xibUp7uBqdwmaJjVBcF747t9l8aEAWyRHQ-y3E14qXznsuk1k74yHQtNOzE/s1600/Star+Trek.+Scared.+Panic.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7cxGiLl4JjmJ3t9lzujdTP_8JAWasANNsXrQfduJE2e_J8kTrBkV3kMdb8urhISWn6UOWG_Uf-ZLyhX82xibUp7uBqdwmaJjVBcF747t9l8aEAWyRHQ-y3E14qXznsuk1k74yHQtNOzE/s1600/Star+Trek.+Scared.+Panic.gif" height="252" width="320" /></a></div>
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All captioners live in fear that something completely inappropriate will get through to live TV </div>
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(i.e child pepperoni!).</div>
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At least it's good for a laugh (after a little panic attack): <a href="http://www.buzzfeed.com/erinchack/closed-captions-that-keep-tv-interesting" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">Exhibit A</span></a>, <a href="http://www.buzzfeed.com/patricksmith/times-subtitles-failed-so-magnificently-they-almost-won" style="color: blue;" target="_blank">Exhibit B</a></div>
(warning: some of the content in these links is a little inappropriate).<br />
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But as bad as our human errors can be, it's nothing compared to computer-generated captions.</div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/7MuDgfX9C2w?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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Thank you, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/user/RhettandLink" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">Rhett and Link</span></a>, for highlighting the deficiencies of automated closed captions through your <i>Caption Fail</i> videos, and thereby validating our careers as broadcast captioners. </div>
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May those evil robots (computers) ever be awful at understanding the idiosyncrasies of human speech, thereby protecting this unique and specialized career. And may all of you who were unaware of broadcast captioners before now join us in celebrating our successes and being amused by our fails.</div>
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Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02910066116982954465noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4925891879156737020.post-70157830932095821772014-06-02T16:41:00.000-07:002014-06-02T19:35:32.642-07:00Court Reporting GIFs<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I am a broadcast captioner. I love it and revel in the fact that I sit at home in my pajamas while watching TV as my career. But before I could begin captioning, I had to get my feet wet in the stenography industry by starting out in court reporting. Court reporting had its perks, but for me, the cons outweighed the pros. Luckily, I always knew court reporting would only be a stepping stone to captioning. </div>
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I'll do a post about captioning someday, but for this post I shall focus on court reporting.</div>
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A brief explanation of a court reporter: <i>a person whose occupation is to transcribe spoken or recorded speech into written form, using machine shorthand to produce official transcripts of court hearings, depositions/examinations, and other official proceedings.</i><br />
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I only ever did examinations, not actual court proceedings.<br />
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I shall now give you a glimpse into the life of a court reporter, or at least my experience, through GIFs, naturally. I'm sure my fellow stenogs will appreciate these, but for those who may not understand the sentiment behind them, I have provided explanations.</div>
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Every. Single. Day.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF4WNycTTg2punAlR_dWzjNpPyUlVIRjTs8oLusHYcXgxOrXG8ZfKTLTf9i-cjyr-IrISiMEHdi9BB3y5xut8Ubv2eWZov8jO4CpzzjZ6xhqOEvBDkqkNqaXfbzCB9vMQk875e5nD1p48/s1600/Slow+down+crazy.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF4WNycTTg2punAlR_dWzjNpPyUlVIRjTs8oLusHYcXgxOrXG8ZfKTLTf9i-cjyr-IrISiMEHdi9BB3y5xut8Ubv2eWZov8jO4CpzzjZ6xhqOEvBDkqkNqaXfbzCB9vMQk875e5nD1p48/s1600/Slow+down+crazy.gif" height="179" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">People talk fast. The end.</span></div>
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Finding out the witness is ESL (English as a second language):</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWQSLAxlh8vxssKXbfVr3eADTsEAVz9bioueXelUUzL-ZvZoWhyoYnp7N-d678GHoTV9NhvqugyeK9XgXZ7kUH_HcTvM2_zW6bkRaKjJh3SyMQXDC1n_hkha5AWGSwnu0Dn6KPk5T1V9w/s1600/I+can't.+Jumping+out+window.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWQSLAxlh8vxssKXbfVr3eADTsEAVz9bioueXelUUzL-ZvZoWhyoYnp7N-d678GHoTV9NhvqugyeK9XgXZ7kUH_HcTvM2_zW6bkRaKjJh3SyMQXDC1n_hkha5AWGSwnu0Dn6KPk5T1V9w/s1600/I+can't.+Jumping+out+window.gif" height="223" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">It's hard enough to transcribe exceptionally well-spoken English at a typical speed of 250+ WPM. But it can <i>really</i> throw off a stenographer when odd inflections, unique speech patterns, and mispronounced words (or made-up words) are thrown into the mix.</span></div>
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When I realize my voice recorder isn't recording:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk-QXhskSWiRJ2irdY5yaFpCZ0outYVL5wINwoN0BtQ4yDmZE4XHZh9Hkl0HRSRVUn__PyUQHug9f81u5YMVeLB7MH1PflxWL3p1eYAyGEl3NiuQvMcNE-Olg50qn1KGTVxoGUxl6ruso/s1600/Scared+bird.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk-QXhskSWiRJ2irdY5yaFpCZ0outYVL5wINwoN0BtQ4yDmZE4XHZh9Hkl0HRSRVUn__PyUQHug9f81u5YMVeLB7MH1PflxWL3p1eYAyGEl3NiuQvMcNE-Olg50qn1KGTVxoGUxl6ruso/s1600/Scared+bird.gif" height="166" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">It's impossible to be a hundred percent accurate a hundred percent of the time. So we use backup audio recordings and make corrections to the transcripts later. The firm I worked for required us to have at least two or three methods of voice recording. I myself had three. For a court reporter, the realization that something might not have been recorded is enough to induce a mini heart attack.</span></div>
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When an examination ends super early:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht_YHdNOysmId6IulN9l8wtX4BrASeKg-EbwRVcqip8x8PQxi_YC_yTdo4KZw9xnrbO5se9iwA7pwGgaeAgbYVD_F2QDizUBXiYxJUiR4QnO2qWqGtI7t4JZJtyjet2e9EbFzxC3gHdug/s1600/Excited+gay+leap.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht_YHdNOysmId6IulN9l8wtX4BrASeKg-EbwRVcqip8x8PQxi_YC_yTdo4KZw9xnrbO5se9iwA7pwGgaeAgbYVD_F2QDizUBXiYxJUiR4QnO2qWqGtI7t4JZJtyjet2e9EbFzxC3gHdug/s1600/Excited+gay+leap.gif" height="237" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">Probably the best part about court reporting. We would start work at 10 a.m. and could sometimes be done within 15 minutes or half an hour. For the entire day! ...but then we usually had transcripts to work on at home anyway.</span></div>
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When any of my numerous batteries are dying:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyxk5rGLbPK2-Yl4Ylk3rdbqSRh61AkhMe8VHoi4CmgBwHEi0vchHb9wftMay52rrS3awoXFqhVXKqZv6y_YNA1YIN0GLmevr1ie8IgMISKA8hG3scXlLdWmvJCjCg7AjTYCnrIADsF2w/s1600/Robert+Downey+Jr.+Survive.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyxk5rGLbPK2-Yl4Ylk3rdbqSRh61AkhMe8VHoi4CmgBwHEi0vchHb9wftMay52rrS3awoXFqhVXKqZv6y_YNA1YIN0GLmevr1ie8IgMISKA8hG3scXlLdWmvJCjCg7AjTYCnrIADsF2w/s1600/Robert+Downey+Jr.+Survive.gif" height="200" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">We're using a lot of equipment. So there is much potential for malfunctions, and some lawyers are none too pleased if you interrupt their examination with such malfunctions. </span></div>
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"Subject to anything arising from my requests, those are my questions."</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiVj53VMY3b5W5wrlOkWNqsIA5HZZjUEkul8aIFUbTWTi_oPIeRUjJeByPmp9tVkkn5ocG9KDhsdnqew0L10J5jDm-fGxqPAbJHyRaxQm0ZEgueaDD03FeGA48dP9C8Q_6Vm16p3iG3uA/s1600/Seinfeld.+Kramer.+Cheering.+Excited.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiVj53VMY3b5W5wrlOkWNqsIA5HZZjUEkul8aIFUbTWTi_oPIeRUjJeByPmp9tVkkn5ocG9KDhsdnqew0L10J5jDm-fGxqPAbJHyRaxQm0ZEgueaDD03FeGA48dP9C8Q_6Vm16p3iG3uA/s1600/Seinfeld.+Kramer.+Cheering.+Excited.gif" height="205" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">The typical ending to an examination, which meant my work day was over. These words were sweet to my ears.</span></div>
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Working on an influx of backorders:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieJekGW1GgaHr59PxVwd2LNuBxS0XCbdvEsgFFv24fbgAOwrqIBI7fGhUX5dxfwnnpq5ptx8mwhLfukGQWatGkyfikmtZABnIcYtDjVJAxfRDCY5wR1KFFfS4MmJ_jBJCTPU_C76WFjTY/s1600/Parks+and+Rec.+Leslie.+No+Sleep.+Sleepy.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieJekGW1GgaHr59PxVwd2LNuBxS0XCbdvEsgFFv24fbgAOwrqIBI7fGhUX5dxfwnnpq5ptx8mwhLfukGQWatGkyfikmtZABnIcYtDjVJAxfRDCY5wR1KFFfS4MmJ_jBJCTPU_C76WFjTY/s1600/Parks+and+Rec.+Leslie.+No+Sleep.+Sleepy.gif" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">A backorder is when counsel (lawyers) didn't initially order a transcript on the day of the examination but then order it at a later date. If you get a bunch of backorders all at once, it can get pretty messy.</span></div>
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When counsel says they don't need a copy of the transcript:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4MwrcGYCImw2JjYFsh02KFaOUIpad0OJsR7E1a-sR0vGxKVahW__bf7POFW7KwH2M1aIBBxekTMxWj8KMeUqnt1IV99XdxallRJsJXYnz6oJSBOr75C797ag2snj5JH09l3lbRauOfPY/s1600/New+Girl.+Nick.+Fist+Pump.+Yes.+Yus.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4MwrcGYCImw2JjYFsh02KFaOUIpad0OJsR7E1a-sR0vGxKVahW__bf7POFW7KwH2M1aIBBxekTMxWj8KMeUqnt1IV99XdxallRJsJXYnz6oJSBOr75C797ag2snj5JH09l3lbRauOfPY/s1600/New+Girl.+Nick.+Fist+Pump.+Yes.+Yus.gif" height="200" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">But as I just explained, this can just be a trick.</span></div>
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When people say made-up words:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTGtdgd0DU_bfU4aMbno1LhJ87G3rhzRDB789D-qr74Lu7TugBpJjPccpBVG6C9ny4xDSuHgjGIn-j2TXrod7iU1wYsoOh7EDkDHTwaBVxWAfYSaiu0PvgG-UEg2C_BlSKREoKcPMPRSI/s1600/Saving+Mr.+Banks.+Responstable+not+a+word.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTGtdgd0DU_bfU4aMbno1LhJ87G3rhzRDB789D-qr74Lu7TugBpJjPccpBVG6C9ny4xDSuHgjGIn-j2TXrod7iU1wYsoOh7EDkDHTwaBVxWAfYSaiu0PvgG-UEg2C_BlSKREoKcPMPRSI/s1600/Saving+Mr.+Banks.+Responstable+not+a+word.gif" height="212" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">You wouldn't believe some of the strange made-up words that are said in examinations. </span></div>
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When things start getting a little too tense between counsel and the witness:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4T66Cl2SVUW7TJR8hcrnhXSmG8HtHMlrTPUYsrRaCt42VWWeTC2XAAtkNATB-dGe14VgawQ8jruxDYw0SHNszXgZ7D7sdkCjecLAJF0cVyMDvEzHRxXIBhKwUgJJaR0a_-RBqwFmM4gQ/s1600/Spongebob.+Hiding.+Awkard.+Uncomfortable.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4T66Cl2SVUW7TJR8hcrnhXSmG8HtHMlrTPUYsrRaCt42VWWeTC2XAAtkNATB-dGe14VgawQ8jruxDYw0SHNszXgZ7D7sdkCjecLAJF0cVyMDvEzHRxXIBhKwUgJJaR0a_-RBqwFmM4gQ/s1600/Spongebob.+Hiding.+Awkard.+Uncomfortable.gif" height="208" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">Examinations can get pretty awkward and ugly at times.</span></div>
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Trying to keep my composure when people self-represent:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwP8j5g9a7ucMNcCSdiGqy8nB2rZDBnVTU7Bz-5uEqeCaZ1ksYS1RpnqxKILehR6QGQb5vzNUk8xKp_O-RkFNuIlHbCEggXsEav_E9RKMnbU39k4Ae_C6CEABBIP-nzybaJFW7sBrb7ME/s1600/ShirleyTemple.Snicker.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwP8j5g9a7ucMNcCSdiGqy8nB2rZDBnVTU7Bz-5uEqeCaZ1ksYS1RpnqxKILehR6QGQb5vzNUk8xKp_O-RkFNuIlHbCEggXsEav_E9RKMnbU39k4Ae_C6CEABBIP-nzybaJFW7sBrb7ME/s1600/ShirleyTemple.Snicker.gif" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">Self-representing is when someone doesn't have a lawyer to represent them. This can be when a witness is giving testimony or sometimes self-reps will even conduct the examination, which is always good for a laugh. You see, they have no idea what they're doing, and lawyers let them know it.</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div>
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When people's sex lives enter the conversation:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNtUzcFriMChDkr8etENhAQe8st97QmFghhxoeR_44E3SKh_66olsokIagxMb1UHJm3Z4GJZ9v73_OSy1FQOb5XKImax-4PgySKqJsGF3_1CKc8XMT6DpFRlyDMKD6eM20VbzXUM52k4w/s1600/Miss+Jay.+Awkward.+Uncomfortable.+Shocked.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNtUzcFriMChDkr8etENhAQe8st97QmFghhxoeR_44E3SKh_66olsokIagxMb1UHJm3Z4GJZ9v73_OSy1FQOb5XKImax-4PgySKqJsGF3_1CKc8XMT6DpFRlyDMKD6eM20VbzXUM52k4w/s1600/Miss+Jay.+Awkward.+Uncomfortable.+Shocked.gif" height="246" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: start;">Oh, the things I heard...</span></div>
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When there's a competent interpreter:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicKhTITQDArJR-wHig0sblF5ba3vdxgt9ifP2giI8nO6ttK3dCQnNoOH8sIJqCOjdGE8L3vVAXi53PNXnpCZhM5O_Q8pVHZj_HKIXy0Q_6PEDYN-mGM6X-z25bGwZ7cRT0FFKIMq6c7qk/s1600/Simpsons.Lazy.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicKhTITQDArJR-wHig0sblF5ba3vdxgt9ifP2giI8nO6ttK3dCQnNoOH8sIJqCOjdGE8L3vVAXi53PNXnpCZhM5O_Q8pVHZj_HKIXy0Q_6PEDYN-mGM6X-z25bGwZ7cRT0FFKIMq6c7qk/s1600/Simpsons.Lazy.gif" height="290" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: start;">It's such a slow process for a non-English-speaking witness to go through an interpreter that I can basically go into auto-pilot and multitask (internet surf, read) while writing.</span></div>
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When there's an incompetent interpreter:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0F1_xsZopkMip81WGfpiagg1UHH84MyJQMg2fprQv-lLVXXHqYkVk1UaOIwavQXriGnxuq0qyd1U_ariCw8EOEKT-6Kyud9KgLkwpwoQR5BpbGlRYkLh8NdRsEpHK5gViKWL30hiZwIQ/s1600/Sherlock.+Watson.+Urge+to+kill+rising.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0F1_xsZopkMip81WGfpiagg1UHH84MyJQMg2fprQv-lLVXXHqYkVk1UaOIwavQXriGnxuq0qyd1U_ariCw8EOEKT-6Kyud9KgLkwpwoQR5BpbGlRYkLh8NdRsEpHK5gViKWL30hiZwIQ/s1600/Sherlock.+Watson.+Urge+to+kill+rising.gif" height="220" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: start;">This. Is. Death. I've had some examinations where the interpreter speaks worse English than the witness. And it's a huge mess if the witness keeps trying to interject in broken English without going through the interpreter.</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: start;">When I had a weekend with no transcripts to work on:</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaMixrJfeRN0xxSyGHd4npdT5saqudoMZnFcVuQhwiZ1qKCffnnYHig5lFBfaKiQ4An3MqMsAeuGvufYV18JD5P5w3bGT5Xmobr3QTn3POUTrm8hAYMZy42TTs1JiYvtRHDrOT4n6nE1Y/s1600/What.+Frustrated.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaMixrJfeRN0xxSyGHd4npdT5saqudoMZnFcVuQhwiZ1qKCffnnYHig5lFBfaKiQ4An3MqMsAeuGvufYV18JD5P5w3bGT5Xmobr3QTn3POUTrm8hAYMZy42TTs1JiYvtRHDrOT4n6nE1Y/s1600/What.+Frustrated.gif" height="223" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: start;">A rare occurrence indeed.</span></div>
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When I'm asked to do a read-back:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcFmyD3zD3NLZba5GLbSfxbzvYsvYRh92UiFddmKVEl4SH1r9ciZtJJGrohLr5ZeQcpFNAVBC9a2ESGvquBGm891clYIvWpRC_IMneUzJN-yYLaVyHdgwW0saBEfm0r1EpDanDShQRgVk/s1600/Pirates+of+the+Caribbean.+Jack+Sparrow.+Panic.+Scared.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcFmyD3zD3NLZba5GLbSfxbzvYsvYRh92UiFddmKVEl4SH1r9ciZtJJGrohLr5ZeQcpFNAVBC9a2ESGvquBGm891clYIvWpRC_IMneUzJN-yYLaVyHdgwW0saBEfm0r1EpDanDShQRgVk/s1600/Pirates+of+the+Caribbean.+Jack+Sparrow.+Panic.+Scared.gif" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: start;">The dreaded read-back. This is when a lawyer asks the court reporter to read back something that's been said on record, and we all pray that we didn't screw that particular part up.</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: start;"><br /></span></div>
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When my equipment malfunctioned on the job:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEkvpoouXfrZ-Yra77KpKIWpjsCApCGova5__sweTdhhjLo50V0gAeSVKw560W7ElV_x1ByNuwW6kzb8E7_KQ4hI_yZq3-s_T5Y71G-4THfMGqMhrhTzAr9z30EvO7Y-YpPSqpw0GNhAs/s1600/Crazy+computer+guy.+Frustrated.+Freak+out.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEkvpoouXfrZ-Yra77KpKIWpjsCApCGova5__sweTdhhjLo50V0gAeSVKw560W7ElV_x1ByNuwW6kzb8E7_KQ4hI_yZq3-s_T5Y71G-4THfMGqMhrhTzAr9z30EvO7Y-YpPSqpw0GNhAs/s1600/Crazy+computer+guy.+Frustrated.+Freak+out.gif" height="298" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: start;">Again, lawyers don't like to be interrupted. So when malfunctions occurred, I'd often just play through the pain, so to speak.</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: start;"><br /></span></div>
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When I see a court reporter in a movie or on TV:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-qvP6rqVfcR82esJfRTAaNMaThT-lAwiLWeCLZvM1Q6ktaxDOIpx-XaPnRwDfEqSAQ4Leq5NOWK2YBqszl8EHS2yHA8B1inKeOIFzqPcslUxzSdl5DknL-9WUT1JgTft4vvQTKekvR14/s1600/Joel+McHale.+Jeff+Winger.+Happy.+Excited.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-qvP6rqVfcR82esJfRTAaNMaThT-lAwiLWeCLZvM1Q6ktaxDOIpx-XaPnRwDfEqSAQ4Leq5NOWK2YBqszl8EHS2yHA8B1inKeOIFzqPcslUxzSdl5DknL-9WUT1JgTft4vvQTKekvR14/s1600/Joel+McHale.+Jeff+Winger.+Happy.+Excited.gif" height="275" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: start;">"Look, Eric! That's me! That's me!"</span></div>
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When the TV court reporter is using a Diamente:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCKd-yECbCDziuu-PnWFQjL36ZiSOobf7Lk7NDr8DHeC1MnD3HrfMsI8_WXCnXmOl0IsESUtHAzSgBB9BuKShKArxZ0htLvT8TKAXrlwaBRJJBR0JByjz8vxPWdg2xPdkhnSGe_qnBwb4/s1600/Jimmy+Fallon.+Excited.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCKd-yECbCDziuu-PnWFQjL36ZiSOobf7Lk7NDr8DHeC1MnD3HrfMsI8_WXCnXmOl0IsESUtHAzSgBB9BuKShKArxZ0htLvT8TKAXrlwaBRJJBR0JByjz8vxPWdg2xPdkhnSGe_qnBwb4/s1600/Jimmy+Fallon.+Excited.gif" height="250" width="400" /></a></div>
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A Diamante is the actual fancy-shmancy machine that I use:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDwd_NRCYCqGaijeXGKfsSNhN5-J1ETdY-lz5YxSeZ2bt9Et0btz4AgbKX_PZQm89hrUGvE1T8GP-2w28z2fmdodkSFm1vruUOao1Jis353RPxNI2rgAVLaLmF70avW-cZIaJ-KFqqLAE/s1600/diamante.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDwd_NRCYCqGaijeXGKfsSNhN5-J1ETdY-lz5YxSeZ2bt9Et0btz4AgbKX_PZQm89hrUGvE1T8GP-2w28z2fmdodkSFm1vruUOao1Jis353RPxNI2rgAVLaLmF70avW-cZIaJ-KFqqLAE/s1600/diamante.jpg" height="244" width="320" /></a></div>
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How I feel at the beginning of the day:</div>
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How I feel at the end of the day:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsJ_ZnVQCAFphBd0DumRRzX2LgO1Kz7HHYbm7lXkhfndYc8OYpbYAOTOiZe8BRocteApyYUi05UKvZXUxatqXlVyMhITosVmIwQ-F1MnL5iYsdsTLGkfVY4TRdiCYDfSbJW8c13QNEzFw/s1600/Sherlock.+Watson.+Typing.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsJ_ZnVQCAFphBd0DumRRzX2LgO1Kz7HHYbm7lXkhfndYc8OYpbYAOTOiZe8BRocteApyYUi05UKvZXUxatqXlVyMhITosVmIwQ-F1MnL5iYsdsTLGkfVY4TRdiCYDfSbJW8c13QNEzFw/s1600/Sherlock.+Watson.+Typing.gif" height="220" width="400" /></a></div>
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Writing for a whole examination can be exceptionally draining.</div>
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Lawyer to Witness: "You have to answer with "yes" or "no". The court reporter can't pick up answers like "m'mm-hmm" or "uh-huh"."</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW0b_U_i3IFMVqtkbb736O653_7yI-sdAY2lgvxLIUNSm7cHaJhlZpCz8S2vURaVM8gcS2mRJLr-hA1EvpkiqDY-pIraY1TlWx1esDRuofrUH0VZTSSeKKvUZIfRIBNE7XS4WsbEcbw_4/s1600/tumblr_m00xahp3m81qhzlt3.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW0b_U_i3IFMVqtkbb736O653_7yI-sdAY2lgvxLIUNSm7cHaJhlZpCz8S2vURaVM8gcS2mRJLr-hA1EvpkiqDY-pIraY1TlWx1esDRuofrUH0VZTSSeKKvUZIfRIBNE7XS4WsbEcbw_4/s1600/tumblr_m00xahp3m81qhzlt3.gif" height="219" width="400" /></a></div>
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Lawyer, you just did what you said can't be done!<br />
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Being called in to work on a day off:<br />
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I lived really close to the office. So if there was a last-minute examination, I was usually the one that got called to come in. Ugh.<br />
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When counsel orders an expedited transcript:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5602V3pMU3Wa9P-FbdoejI77NLfF9l0rKBxfRip306aHeHfcGAj8bDrgQcpBxkTeKyvbW2zGnAYgaMwnL9uQMPpvLCKIbJqRKmKR8L5yhyeqrZY8RNSXuWx1kIZBRRjatZU_vVCy1l6g/s1600/Some+Like+It+Hot.+Glare.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5602V3pMU3Wa9P-FbdoejI77NLfF9l0rKBxfRip306aHeHfcGAj8bDrgQcpBxkTeKyvbW2zGnAYgaMwnL9uQMPpvLCKIbJqRKmKR8L5yhyeqrZY8RNSXuWx1kIZBRRjatZU_vVCy1l6g/s1600/Some+Like+It+Hot.+Glare.gif" height="320" width="303" /></a></div>
I'll just whip that up with all that free time I have.<br />
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Working on transcripts at 4 a.m.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ6XwcPKPy-RSIipYrd8FxBYUTWdfE9hW99J06YxXHESD8dTkxK6i7q-T16vnrRV1zr_4XOAuvdats3d4fsYMlgJqULQIluerR_8mVkSUD5-osXgkIHb_7Ax7y8wZzIASQu1UFjBczRkI/s1600/Bunny.+Sleepy.+Work.+Tired.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ6XwcPKPy-RSIipYrd8FxBYUTWdfE9hW99J06YxXHESD8dTkxK6i7q-T16vnrRV1zr_4XOAuvdats3d4fsYMlgJqULQIluerR_8mVkSUD5-osXgkIHb_7Ax7y8wZzIASQu1UFjBczRkI/s1600/Bunny.+Sleepy.+Work.+Tired.gif" height="205" width="400" /></a></div>
Got to meet those deadlines!<br />
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When witnesses and lawyers didn't eat the refreshments my firm provided:<br />
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I claim these as my own!</div>
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When counsel don't specify they're going off record:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUXeC08hh613W_q8EqGdxG9DF-5KHFZqHcBO2F-jWPYhp5Wzhv40fJyyNNDSVt-CkCz0NQVneRJ6d7mJ2dvgNiPre48u5LLInVS4SiKT8D9D7kjk8nGcxjY1rNuuLjptjl2laitB89R6E/s1600/Neil+deGrasse+Tyson.+I+guess.+Whatever.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUXeC08hh613W_q8EqGdxG9DF-5KHFZqHcBO2F-jWPYhp5Wzhv40fJyyNNDSVt-CkCz0NQVneRJ6d7mJ2dvgNiPre48u5LLInVS4SiKT8D9D7kjk8nGcxjY1rNuuLjptjl2laitB89R6E/s1600/Neil+deGrasse+Tyson.+I+guess.+Whatever.gif" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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I'm not a mind reader!<br />
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How I feel about the concept of verbatim transcripts:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4pBUKbi6S02tx5lg9wLmt0mNYmkokBkvvpZu-nIjkP0EmCGJ_WJ7ydV7PsxuuKkgGFx4jMj_FONVkvXBneyKFAwlloWLiDe-ByBV0vAwYD9jN5ulGidjjzMxbavoRKdk_7quSpZapCi4/s1600/Seinfeld.+Elaine.+English+Patient.+I+hate+it.+Mad.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4pBUKbi6S02tx5lg9wLmt0mNYmkokBkvvpZu-nIjkP0EmCGJ_WJ7ydV7PsxuuKkgGFx4jMj_FONVkvXBneyKFAwlloWLiDe-ByBV0vAwYD9jN5ulGidjjzMxbavoRKdk_7quSpZapCi4/s1600/Seinfeld.+Elaine.+English+Patient.+I+hate+it.+Mad.gif" height="215" width="320" /></a></div>
Verbatim sucks.<br />
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When the witness is clearly exaggerating their claim:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGWT-HZ82-omFfuRUJ6SKFIF145EfVIQLIi6YTChYzabrJyZWDhC0BdzWYTRJFsc-XlO_mjxo8Wz7oJWMRmmTTZ7eN7lM0uwpZGi_Dwh9L9_0aWSE1WyY7xCRxCm8gX7Kq7nbpewQpgJc/s1600/Arrested+Development.+Lucille.+Judging+you.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGWT-HZ82-omFfuRUJ6SKFIF145EfVIQLIi6YTChYzabrJyZWDhC0BdzWYTRJFsc-XlO_mjxo8Wz7oJWMRmmTTZ7eN7lM0uwpZGi_Dwh9L9_0aWSE1WyY7xCRxCm8gX7Kq7nbpewQpgJc/s1600/Arrested+Development.+Lucille.+Judging+you.gif" height="230" width="400" /></a></div>
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Sure you can't vacuum anymore due to your "injuries". Sure...</div>
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When I actually do believe the witness and start sympathizing with them too much:</div>
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You poor you. Now stop talking so fast, please.</div>
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When the lawyer and witness keep talking over each other:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCPH87AkejfGRkyf0xMxRcnSF-7xmHlRSCqDr2Uyt6luOh82LQkKsSJSrMTYMorpS0WNCS1wcjYujZfek2j-jRLW8hcMPkYcLhUIho2Iu7N6GSh7KUu9aWz_-XM3-RAbGKh0HPEFC5oQA/s1600/Kevin+Hart.+Annoyed.+Exasperated.+Come+on.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCPH87AkejfGRkyf0xMxRcnSF-7xmHlRSCqDr2Uyt6luOh82LQkKsSJSrMTYMorpS0WNCS1wcjYujZfek2j-jRLW8hcMPkYcLhUIho2Iu7N6GSh7KUu9aWz_-XM3-RAbGKh0HPEFC5oQA/s1600/Kevin+Hart.+Annoyed.+Exasperated.+Come+on.gif" height="215" width="400" /></a></div>
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Quit it! It's your transcript that's going to end up looking like crap!</div>
<span id="goog_1628722015"></span><br />
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When I'm in a divorce examination:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDbo3unbW1BywPrRqzsWMK27dNpOa5kjsGpCpqBKwOBcfZYWo6aJ-vno1uocg9nieL5k7Oio5f1bn5X6xhgaqQcZysHz-J0cUEs5cDLtJosZy6XEVJXKs4_B5E6nbyrIqaiTyBs4IAE8M/s1600/Puss+in+Boots.+Oh.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDbo3unbW1BywPrRqzsWMK27dNpOa5kjsGpCpqBKwOBcfZYWo6aJ-vno1uocg9nieL5k7Oio5f1bn5X6xhgaqQcZysHz-J0cUEs5cDLtJosZy6XEVJXKs4_B5E6nbyrIqaiTyBs4IAE8M/s1600/Puss+in+Boots.+Oh.gif" /></a></div>
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Divorce examinations could be quite... lively.</div>
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Transcripts. Period.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUMkEBIEIkQzdpLSN4yWT0DETD3yR88BNyqHXa5y8plWQHVxWJzhM01p50QGWyiiKIW5voYilXGc14cTbAPtRn7p2lbSl-3jgDk_Q9S7gdjliMFV8imwRYdwj9cVNhiMkCQbBhq31JFMw/s1600/Big+Bang+Theory.+Papers.+Done.+Frustrated.+Mad.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUMkEBIEIkQzdpLSN4yWT0DETD3yR88BNyqHXa5y8plWQHVxWJzhM01p50QGWyiiKIW5voYilXGc14cTbAPtRn7p2lbSl-3jgDk_Q9S7gdjliMFV8imwRYdwj9cVNhiMkCQbBhq31JFMw/s1600/Big+Bang+Theory.+Papers.+Done.+Frustrated.+Mad.gif" /></a></div>
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Homework for my adult career? No thank you. Don't miss this aspect one bit.</div>
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While I much prefer captioning, I will admit that there were definitely some good laughs had from court reporting.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWK4hv3AyMyqg6JLZmjVWIMEGEJ90gBkyyrSuCWSBaNpWgRXdp-CE8YxSRHUPO4BxcDtAlFfgjRBrUBAOqsUOdplqen10dn1cPk17qFOMr0FCl3xBO1vmG-LLnS7deA_ydvvU6KJMBXNs/s1600/Image.+Court+Reporter.+Giggle+break.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWK4hv3AyMyqg6JLZmjVWIMEGEJ90gBkyyrSuCWSBaNpWgRXdp-CE8YxSRHUPO4BxcDtAlFfgjRBrUBAOqsUOdplqen10dn1cPk17qFOMr0FCl3xBO1vmG-LLnS7deA_ydvvU6KJMBXNs/s1600/Image.+Court+Reporter.+Giggle+break.jpg" height="220" width="400" /></a></div>
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Paigehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02910066116982954465noreply@blogger.com33