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lørdag 30. august 2014

Dåpskort

Inspirasjon fra Astrid sin blogg

Dåpskort til gutt og en liten nyhet :-)

Heisann :-)

Jeg har en stund hatt lyst til å være DT i en norsk eller nordisk utfordringsblogg, og nå er jeg så heldig at jeg har blitt DT-medlem i Card and Scrap :-)  Gleder meg stort til å starte opp 1.september i sammen med resten av de dyktige jentene på teamene :-)
Bli gjerne med på utfordringen som pågår nå og som avsluttes 28.august :   Blomster og tern/ruter.

I dag har jeg ett dåpskort  til en gutt som jeg vil vise dere.






Jeg har brukt:

Mønsterpapir: Papirdesign - Herman og Emilie - Barnedåp, blå.
Motiv: Fra stempelplaten "So Precious" - Stempelglede
Tekststempelet  "Til Dåpsbarnet" tror jeg er fra Kort & Godt.
Teksten på innsiden er skrevet i word og printet ut.
Dies:  Spellbinders Nestabilities "Timeless Rectangle"
Blekk:  Ranger Archival Ink - Cobalt.
Annet: Splittbinders, div.blomster, Stickles Glitter - Star Dust, Sommerfuglen av stoff kjøpte jeg på en bokhandel i Bergen for noen år siden, Ranglen og barneføttene har jeg også hatt i mange år og husker ikke produsenten eller hvor jeg kjøpte de.
Str på kortet: 11x16 cm.


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Tør vi?


...
Ønskjer betring: Pasient- og brukarombodet i Sogn og Fjordane, Lisa Førde Refsnes, trur meir openheit kan gjere det lettare for pasientar å klage på eventuelle feil i kommunehelsetenesta. Eit konkret forslag er å offentleggjere klagene på nettsidene til kvar kommune. Foto: Ingrid Margrete Thorvaldsen

Ønskjer klager offentleggjort på nett

Mange kvir seg for å klage på kommunale helsetenester. Pasient- og brukarombodet i fylket meiner kommunane er for dårlege på å handtere klager og kritiske tilbakemeldingar. No vil ho ha kommunale klager offentleggjort på nett.
Ingrid Margrete ThorvaldsenE-post
 
  
Publisert 01.08.2014 kl 10:44 Oppdatert 05.08.2014 kl 07:53


– Vi opplever jamleg at folk ikkje ønskjer å ta opp hendingar med kommunehelsetenesta si. Vi meiner sjølv vi ser ein forskjell på handsaming av klager hos spesialisthelsetenesta (sjukehusa) og kommunehelsetenesta, seier Lisa Førde Refsnes.
Ombodet meiner mange kvir seg på å klage på helsetenester som vert ytt i nærmiljøet der dei bur, då dei er redde for konsekvensane av dette i små og gjennomsiktige lokalsamfunn.
– Vi har i ein del saker sett at kommunehelsetenestene til dømes vert personleg indignerte eller går i forsvarsposisjon når dei skal handtere ei klagesak. Når pasientane vert møtte med slik oppførsel, vert det vanskeleg for dei å klage. Pasientane er redde for å bli oppfatta som «vanskelege», kommenterer Refsnes.

Offentleggjort på nett

Pasient- og brukarombodet har difor sendt ut eit skriv til alle kommunane i fylket, der ho oppmodar dei til betring på feltet. I?skrivet ber ho kommunane legge betre til rette for at brukarane av dei kommunale helse- og omsorgstenestene tør å klage på svikt i tenestene. Openheit er det viktigaste middelet til målet, meiner ho.
– Meir openheit kan vere eit verkemiddel for å ufarleggjere og senke terskelen for å klage. Ei offentleggjering av anonymiserte klager på nett vil gje signal om at kommunane ønskjer tilbakemeldingar frå pasientane sine. Det gjev òg befolkninga peikepinn på kva som er status på kommunen si handtering av feil og avvik. Det er eit viktig signal å gje ut at ein ønskjer slik tilbakemelding og at ein evnar å handtere dette, uttalar Refsnes.

Komme for å bli

– Openheit som ledd i kvalitetsarbeidet i norsk helsevesen har komme for å bli. Dette må også den kommunale helse- og omsorgstenesta ta inn over seg, skriv ombodet i brevet til kommunane.
Spesialisthelsetenesta har ei lovpålagt plikt til å melde ifrå om hendingar som har ført til, eller som kunne ha ført til, betydelege personskadar. Dei fleste helseføretak har også valt å offentleggjere dette utan at det er krav om det. Refsnes meiner det er på tide at kommunane òg tek etter på feltet.

Stable chaos

Another bus in front of me. There is a screeching sound in the background, a nice mix-up of Muslim vibrations from the mosque, and simply a loud weeeeaaaahh, fronting its never ending message to the world. My head is fuzzy, after just some hours of sleep, shortened by my roommate who got up really early and then just sat on her bed for 20 minutes staring at her phone. I tried a timid hello, but I probably looked like some alien right then, my right eye swollen after my contact-lens had an eye-raveparty. I've bought some tea, ice-coffee, juice and water (just a little bit thirsty). Some softdrink god must have disapproved since I did it again (Ooops). 

My typical style of life: put too much in your hands, so that you effectively loose everything on the floor. This particular morning gravitation met my tea-cup. I can hear my chaos-god laughing loudly at my 100th mistake, but I still don't think I've learnt the lesson. The clock is 8, my bus will head for the Vilnius airport in 20 minutes. My plane back to Oslo leaves 09:45, thankfully the airport is just 5 km away. 

I put down the love of my life, mr Iphone, to let my thoughts roam for a while. I watch a green tree in front of me, noticing how the wind tickles the leaves and get into post-happy mood at once.

I have a warm feeling running through me, lifting up  compassion, that I cradle in my arm. My inner cinema begins the movie of the the little girl I saw on the bus ride to Riga. She was putting her head on her fathers shoulders, and I remember glimpses from yesterday and days before that. I hear excerpts from emails recited inside, melting like Lithuanian chocolate. I remember her brown, sparkling eyes and nods of compassion and agreement. Yes, I like where my thoughts are, and especially the memory of when we looked at each other in the cafeteria. It was a moment of silence, but with messages being sent back and forth between the lines. I grabbed one of them and said: I'm so glad we found each other (literally, we couldn't find each other. But also that we started to talk together). It's like whipped cream on hot chocolate (yep, still thirsty), almost to good to be true. 

She drew the curtains away from my dirty windows several times, and out came  precious memories, retold with animation and respect for the ones in it. Her thoughtfulness seeped through everything she said, no matter if she told me about places they've seen, people they met or people she loved. Her brother Emmanuel (the three E's) was with us, also  contributing with insightful comments on their story. Sometimes they finished each others sentences, if they not continued it out of eagerness before the other was done. He was so calm, handling everything in the world. His violin shoulders not protesting against the task of bearing others in mind constantly. Not to mention the ambitiousness that have brought them so many experiences and given them and others so much love.

When she goes home, there is more work to be done. I see her in my mental theater, in front of a white piano together with a student, passionately making sure they get the message she wants to deliver to their potential.

A sound disturbed my walk on memory lane. 'Please remember to only take one piece of hand luggage. . I've thoroughly watered liquidized myself with coffee, drinking yoghurt, tea and water, feeling slightly nauseated by the rapid intake. Again, I see number 22 in front of me, it has been around me all the time during this trip, pushing me on and telling me I'm doing this for my own sake (22 is my birth-date) . The clock was even 22.00 when we finally started walking towards our cafe yesterday, chatting about how we ran back and forth like Crazy looking for each other. 'I said to my brother, we won't give up before we find her'. She smiles, probably dead tired from lack of sleep and a quite special and stressful afternoon.

One flight, hard bump in the head after one refreshing rain-shower and three bottles of tax-frees later, sitting and waiting for a bus I think I will not take. I thought I had time in Oslo to get my luggage, but seems like I must be extraordinarily fast if want to accomplish that. Nothing in me is turned on top speed, so I skip my original plan, loose some money in the process, but gain some peace that I desperately need.


The flight back to Oslo was spent in between the skies and earth, in my own creative world. That's where I build strange buildings (inspiration: Emmanuel) and think about stuff like: How funny would it be to actually smear yellow marmalade at those ladies ? And that Ryanair use a lot of psychological tricks to sell stuff, but how I don't like how they smear it over people so they feel sticky and just  want to wash it away. Most of all I been relieving yesterday. How many memories can just three hours produce? A lot, and I love taking the memory-carousel again and again. I am not sure, I only know how much I love carousels.

For now, the ride is over. I will walk on familiar ground again, but with my disorientation, I'll never be sure which road I'm  walking on. Luckily, I love new places even when I stumble and loose everything. My balance is always there. My stable chaos, we will always walk hand in hand.

fredag 29. august 2014

The sound of restless waiting

Waiting
Feeling restless
Feeling ready and not at the same time. Thousand ways to find release, but only one you want. An addicted brain, longing for the impossible. Because the possible is too easy, you don’t have to work hard for it.
I keep working. And working. Doing everything I love and seeing everyone I want. Still this restlessness. Will it be there all the time? Is it a friend that never leaves me?
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