Lessons from OryCon - from an outsider welcomed in - Part 3

We proceeded to take our bags to the room. You would think we were packed for more more than a quick weekend trip by the bags and luggage we hauled up the elevator and down the hall. As we settled into the room, it was only a few short minutes before the beds and closets were overflowing with our attire for the weekend. I learned my first lesson. 

Lesson one: OryCon is all about the costume changes! 

Another friend of my friend, I’ll call her Lavois (not to protect the innocent, but because that’s her name and saying “friend” all the time is going to get confusing) arrived and the clothing options became even more abundant.

Lesson two: Attendees of OryCon enjoy sharing. 

Between my friend and Lavois, clothing and accessories were plentiful. I think they enjoyed accessorizing me as much as I enjoyed the fun of being “dressed up”. Another fun fact about my non-redneck self is that I am a breast cancer survivor. Diagnosed 3 years ago and only about 18 months out of active treatment my hair is just now to a length where I feel feminine again. During treatment, make-up was something I just didn’t have the energy nor inclination for. Therefore, being dressed, accessorized, and taking the luxury of powder, blush and lipstick felt wonderful.

Lesson Three: You are never too old for dress up! 

(click here for part 1) (Click here for part 2) (click here for part 4)

Lessons from OryCon - from an outsider welcomed in- Part 2

Arrival

I walked in to the hotel with my friend and and took a look around as we approached the check-in line. To my right, a normal hotel counter, with crisply dressed, young and vibrant hotel employees welcoming us in. To my left, I saw dozens of people young and older (not old, just older than some) milling about. I had made myself commit to being comfortable and secure - even IF I was out of my element. The mental commitment didn’t stick as we checked in. I had informed my friend of this before our arrival - even confiding in her that walking into the local high school with my kids still made me feel anxious. I have a theory that my high school student anxiety must be a combination of my lack of popularity as a teen myself and my personal insecurities of not graduating high school (hey, I got my GED, so that STILL doesn’t make me a red-neck!). It really pisses me off that as a grown adult I can’t walk into a high school and just feel confident. They are teen-agers for crying out loud! So, as I walked into the hotel lobby, that feeling of “not good enough” creeped up, irreverently ignoring my mental commitment to be confident in this new crowd of strangers.

(click here for part 1)   (click here for part 3) 

Lessons from OryCon - from an outsider welcomed in Part 1

OryCon 2012

Recently, I asked my best high school friend who lives in the Portland area if I could come visit for a long weekend. I’d never been to her new home and I’d decided some good girl time could be had while my husband was in the woods hunting the elusive 3 point bull Elk. They have to be elusive because in all the years I’ve known him I’ve never witnessed him coming home with meat. This year he promises to buy bacon on the way home just to be safe. I’m married to a man who hunts elusive elk. And elusive deer. And elusive grouse. And ducks on occasion. Ducks aren’t elusive apparently. He and his friends actually shoot and kill ducks. There are photos and duck pepperoni to prove it.

I mention these details to help give you a sense of who I am, who my family is and what sorts of things are “normal” to us. Hunting. Camping. Horseback riding (as if there is another kind of horse-anything-riding). Quads. Dogs. Bonfires and Barbeques (what we do, not a country song). Boating (not the cool speedboat with a water-ski attached, but more like floating around in an aluminum...well...boat..ish, depending on your definition of a boat). My husband owns a tractor, a riding lawnmower, a backpack blower, and a lot of other really expensive stuff you apparently need to maintain 10 acres in the country. I recently started hiking. I call it hiking. My son says what I’m doing is actually just slow walking since I’m doing it on hills more so than mountains. I informed him that if I put on actual hiking shoes, and I walk on something other than a paved mostly level path, its called hiking.

I am stopping short of calling ourselves red-necks. Afterall, we work in Seattle. We have long-ass commutes to white-collar jobs (my husband has a more blue Carhartt T-Shirt job, but according to Wiki his still counts as a white-collar job). I’m pretty sure that disqualifies us from being red-necks.

When I asked my friend about the long weekend visit, she informed me that was the weekend her and her husband would be attending OryCon in Portland. I was like, OryWhat? She sent me a link to a website. I didn’t do a deep dive on the site. I just looked at the registration cost. I decided it was affordable and since my friend would be there, I was in.

In the weeks leading up to the event, my friend tried to prepare me...in small baby steps. First, she informed me she had plenty of things available to share for me to wear. I didn’t know jeans, tennis shoes, and a comfortable top weren’t really going to suffice. Next, she sent me a text and said I needed to buy a corset to act as a base for all the clothes she would be providing. I’m 37 years old this year. I’ve never purchased a corset in my life. It’s not like I’m a puritan or anything. I just never saw the reason in buying something that...well, here’s what I know about corsets...A corset made Keira Knightley pass out and fall into the ocean in Pirates of the Caribbean. I guess they just never sounded practical, comfortable or fun to me. Trusting my friend, however, I set out to buy a corset. Fortunately, I have a friend who owns a lingerie store (Lovers Naughty or Nice in Monroe, WA). I was able to go to the store and try on corsets to my heart’s content. I can’t say the trying on made me any more “fond” of corsets. You can NOT put one of those on by yourself! I tried! I finally found a nice black, underwire corset with cute little rhinestone embellishments on the front that fit and was mostly comfortable. I tooked a picture in the mirror (classy, I know), sent it to my friend for approval and got the thumbs up. I. Was. Now. Officially. Ready. For. OryCon. or so I thought...

I arrived after midnight at my friends house on the day of the event. Having never been to her house before, I tip-toed into the place, everyone sleeping hoping I was in the right place. I crashed on the guest bed (a positive sign that I was indeed in the right house) till the appointed hour arrived. 

(Click here for part 2)

Dear Cascade Valley Hospital in Arlington, Wa

Peter Hutchinson - your letter regarding my concerns about my experience in your ER department is more insulting than the experience itself. Over the last 7 years I've dealt with a few bad experiences, but no one has ever been as rude & insulting as Dr. Peet was to me that night. 

In this small town, I don't have many emergency choices. "...his intention was to treat you with with respect, but..." Really? Apologies do not contain "but". "...in spite of our best intentions there is often some level of misunderstanding." Again, really? Then I would say this is a big RED FLAG for your hospital to truly consider how you communicate with patients. Medical care should not include "misunderstanding". 

I'm posting this on a public venue in hopes it'll get your attention. Clearly my phone call wasn't enough. You might consider including a way for people to reach the hospital on your website - other than just the phone. In that expensive new facility I'm sure someone, somewhere has an email.

The view from the vantage point of a 2 year old. Pretty interesting stuff actually. Abby took about 10 photos which you can see on my Picasa site.

This is what happens when you put GAS in a diesel truck. Ouch. $500 later we were back on the road!

Getting ready for a group photo at work to present a gift to our director who was moving to another department.