Saturday, June 27, 2009


I am exhausted!!! Have no idea why, but my body is telling me that sleep is essential at the moment. It's a bit ridiculous because I've slept so much in the past few days (just not during regularly scheduled sleeping hours).
This need for unconsciousness is damned inconvenient, to say the least. There are a lot of things I need to do around the house, and the sleeping is really getting in the way. I'll be having 3 visitors next weekend, and I have to get rid of some boxes to make room for them to sleep. But where's my motivation?!?! Perhaps it's locked in the deep recesses of my mind, and that's why I need all this sleep because that's how I can get closer to finding it... Yep I think that's what it is. Gonna take a quick 15 min cat nap to muddle through the deep recesses...

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Nonsensical ramblings at 3am...

I'm at work and bored out of my mind, trying desperately not to fall face first on the keyboard in a narcoleotic stupor. Therefore, let me apologize in advance, because this entry is more for my entertainment (and yes, sanity) then it is for your's.
The PICU is a place meant for the adrenaline junkies, those who like action and function well under stress. In general, you think of a PICU patient as the sickest of the sick in the world of tiny tots and terrible teens. Why then, do I have 2 chronic patients with overbearing parents who are only to be disturbed every 4 hours? Doesn't that usually fit the criteria for a regular floor patient? My eyeballs are rolling around in my head with my efforts to keep them focused, I'm freezing because even my metabolism is telling me it's time to shut down for a few hours if I'm not going to be doing anything productive. It is quite the struggle to maintain your humanity at 3am in a quiet unit with lullabies in the background.
Now, I know that may sound harsh and a bit ungrateful, but I promise you it is only the ungodly hour and lack of stimulation that is making me cranky. I have even caught myself sneaking up on my slumbering kiddos hoping they'll have full diapers and give me something to do for a few minutes. Truly, I do love my job, dirty diapers and all, and I love my patients. They are wonderful children for all their faults, anamolies, and deformities. But for crying out loud, I am ready to stick the blunt side of a pen through one of my rolling eyeballs just to have something to do!!!
On that note, a quick change of topic. I must choose paint colors so that my dad has something to do when he comes down for a few days in July. Gotta make the man useful! Hmmm, should my room be a light brown, or a blue?.... Decisions, decisions. I think I just found something to do with my time!

Saturday, June 13, 2009


As in my previous post, you all know that I had an incident at the grocery store with an old man yesterday. Like that wasn't bad enough?!?! My day just continued to get worse as it went along. Work last night was an absolute fiasco...
When I got in everything was fine, one patient possible admission, easy peezy. Around midnight, that admission came, teenage trauma questionable head injury. The kid himself was no problem. His family however, ├╝ber bizarre. While talking with the dad I found out the kids are going to be entering foster care, which sent a little alarm bell going off. Fast forward an hour, and I'm doing the standard admission questions to get background on the patient. So when asked about abuse, the dad tells me straight out he abuses the kid, hence the SECOND round of foster care. Now I dunno if the dad is just plain stupid or crazy ballsy. Either way this admission triggered hours of phone calls to determine just what we were supposed to do with him at the bedside and if he should even be there. Not fun...
Finally, I got a break!!! It was time to eat lunch (if that's what you can call it at 3am) and the triscuits and fruit I brought just weren't cutting it after all this bs. So I run down to the cafeteria to get myself something a bit more substantial. Now it's 7 floors up to get back to the unit, so I take the elevator. No biggie, right? People do it everyday without issue. Me I get on the damn elevator that decides to have a schizophrenic break while I'm on it. It not only gets stuck, it gets stuck and then drops, goes back up and gets stuck again only to drop again. I haven't been that nauseated in a long time. After 15 mins on the ride from hell, I am able to get the doors open and jump the 3 feet to the floor. I look around and see I'm back where I started: 1st floor, and still 7 away from the unit. *sigh*
Seriously, WTF?

Friday, June 12, 2009

Adventures in the produce aisle

Like a good single girl, I went grocery shopping to try to keep my ass out of drive-through's (so what if I bought cookies). It was all going well, my cart was filling up nicely with dietary staples that I found on sale. As I was perusing produce, I hear a call for help. I mean this lady was belting it out! So, in a grocery store, someone is panicking, what would you think happened? For me, the first thing that came to mind was a kid playing around on a shopping cart who fell off or was toppled while trying to climb a shelf. As I head of running towards the shouting, I'm thinking to myself "Kids, I can handle this." Though I was thinking about all the possible injuries and my plan of action once I got there, I figured an ambulance would need to be called in case of head or spinal trauma from the fall, etc, etc. So, when I get to all the commotion, I panic. There sprawled on the floor is a old man. What the hell was I supposed to do now?!?! I don't know what to do with old people!!! So I talk myself down (all of this taking seconds, mind you) and tell myself to start with the ABC's. He had an airway, had chest rise so he was breathing, and I checked his pulse for circulation. Gotta love trauma training. At this point I had gotten myself under control, and he was responsive so I was I was asking him questions as well as trying to figure out what he could have injured on his way down. I ask him to move everything, all extremities moves except his right foot. Moment of panic/horror/dread. Crap, he hurt something in his spine. I have him try again, still nothing. Everything went cold. Then he tells me his right leg is a prosthetic. Really?!?! Couldn't have told me when I started this exercise? Sheesh. The long and short of it is, everything that should move did, he was coherent, and there was no obvious bleeding. Against his better judgement, I got him off the floor and into a chair (because of course, a little lady like me couldn't lift a big strapping man like him). Paramedics came, and I was done. Finished my shopping shaking like a leaf, and got my ass home. If I didn't have to work tonight, I would so be having a beer right now!

Sunday, June 7, 2009


Yesterday was the much anticipated walk for Cystic Fibrosis. Besides being just plane old fun, it was for a good cause which just added to it. It's very moving to be a part of such a big group taking time out of their lives to raise money and make a stand against an illness that takes the lives of innocents. To see children walk on behalf of their friends, parents crying while they thank you for being there to help find a cure for their children, and to see the kids with CF walking amongst us and laughing and happy because for one day, they aren't alone in the fight. Days like yesterday, I know I made the right decisions in my life that lead me to where I am.
I love all the kids I work with, and knowing that maybe I made a difference in one of their lives. They are the biggest gift in my life. Every one of them makes an impression and changes me and how I work a bit. They say in nursing that comfort comes with experience. In general, they mean practice, that the repetition of certain tasks makes doing your job easier. And to an extent I agree. However, everyday is an experience. Each child unique and special and with something to teach you if you open yourself up to. I personally could do without the repeated sticking tubes into a child. But I couldn't do with not knowing the kids, and not opening myself up to them and their families.
People tell me all the time that they couldn't do what I do and that I'm selfless because of the profession I chose. I disagree. I'm no different than anyone else. And I do my job for completely selfish reasons. My patients make a much bigger impact in my life than I ever will in theirs.

Friday, June 5, 2009

Round two

On my way to work yesterday evening, I got a call from my sister during which she informed that my niece had something to tell me. Me, I assumed it was regarding my new cats considering she is a bit obsessed with "Tia's kitties". But no, my G gets on the phone, and in the excited and adorably high pitched voice only a 2 year old can master, tells me "I'm gonna be a big sister, tia! The baby's name is Little Foot. No tia, it's chomper. Baby Chomper. Where are the kitties?" Knowing the little one on the other side of the phone, I was able to follow her train of thought and flights of ideas, and deduced that she was watching The Land Before Time which provided her with the inspiration for the baby names.
I was, and am, appropriately thrilled to be a tia again. But I also have my reservations. How am I, as a self-respecting aunt, going to properly spoil this child when I'm broke? And will I be able to make it to Portugal to buy the required goods from the motherland for this new baby. To make matters even more pressing, the baby is due on my birthday!!! So much for spending my 28th at Nazare like I had been planning. Got to be here for the big arrival.
What to do and when to go? Does it really matter, when there's a miracle on the way? :)

Thursday, June 4, 2009

One of those days

Have you ever had one of those days where you just hate yourself? When all you can think about is all your damn faults and every mistake you've ever made and worry about the ones you are going to make in the future? When even just looking at your reflection in the mirror brings on a wave of self-loathing and disgust?
That is how my day has been playing out. At turns I'm just mildly annoyed and then all of a sudden it's tears and bouts of misery and self-pity. And all of this carrying on (which I'm well aware is stupid and unwarranted) just creates more fodder for me to get upset about. It truly is a vicious cycle.
Now, in my defense, days like this used to be a regular occurrence for me (perhaps once a week or so), but I have not had one in a couple years. In general the past couple years, I've been pretty content with life, and when I haven't been, I changed things. So why now? Why today? Damned if I know what triggered this. I woke up in the morning miserable, and have wallowed in it since; not getting dressed, not doing any of the things I need to do, and not even turning on a light in the house. This however will have to end soon, considering I have to be at work this evening for a night shift.... *sigh* Just to add insult to injury...
So I say to myself "SNAP OUT OF IT!!!" but I'm still working on it. While I emotionally feel like I have as much self worth as a piece of nastiness that someone was unfortunate enough to step on on their way to work, intellectually I know that isn't so. But it is the curse of the female to have her intelligence outweighed by her emotions. That discussion, however, is for another day.

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

They're home!!!

Ok, so I got approved for the two cats, and I picked them up this afternoon. Both a beautiful, but there seems to be one small problem. They seem to hate each other...
Mischief, the oldest (so she should technically know better), has been doing nothing but hissing at the little guy, Moe (now Marvin). So he is now terrified of her and practicing his hissing at his reflection. First couple hours home and he's already berating himself in the mirror!!! Meanwhile she is practicing avoidance and hiding anywhere she possible can.
Frankly, it's breaking my heart a little. Can't they just get along? I've never been in charge of another living thing, and this is breaking my heart. I feel like a failed as a.... as a parent (yes, I said it, these little felines are my children for all intents and purposes). Now I know how my mom felt when me and my sister fought.
I hope this is just a phase, and that with time they'll get used to each other and this will pass. And if it is, I hope it's a goddamn short phase. Or even better, maybe Mischief isn't really hissing, maybe it's just a really stubborn hairball that she's having trouble clearing.
There is always hope!!! Keep your fingers crossed for me...

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

For a good time, watch!

Heard this on the radio and enjoyed it immensely. Hope it makes you all laugh too!!!

Monday, June 1, 2009

The worst thing

Little known fact about me, I became a nurse because I hated the feeling of not knowing how to help and make things better. This started after I had a very good friend suffer a traumatic brain injury in our senior year of high school. I would sit by his bedside and feel completely helpless, I couldn't make him better. And for me that is the worst feeling in the world.
In my years as a nurse, I've gotten over having to fix things. But I still feel like I at least need to make things better. At work, that sometimes means helping families come to grips with the fact that death is better than the life their child has been living. In life that means lending a shoulder or ear to someone who needs it and hoping that being their bouncing board will help ease their mind. It may also mean taking a bummed friend out for margaritas or just being weird and silly to get them to smile. Whatever it takes, I'm your girl.
But what do you do when nothing works? When being a friend just isn't enough? It hurts me not to be able to help heal. Nothing breaks my heart more. That feeling of helplessness leaves me undone. I can handle my pain much better than I can handle anyone else's. When someone I love is hurting, it breaks my stride. I can't just move on and say to myself, "That's their problem, they'll get over it," and move on with my life. I always feel like I could do more, even if I don't know what more is. Until I find what it is, I feel like a failure that it didn't just come naturally.
I try really hard to be a good friend, and it sucks monkey butt when my efforts just aren't good enough. *Sigh* But it sure doesn't stop me from trying...