Miscellany

I was reading my Yahoo inbox. Something like 5000 emails there. I joined a knitting forum. The emails from that group as well as email from my paranormal group go to my Yahoo mail. The knitting list boasts about 10K members from all over the world. It generates a lot of posts, but I think the 60 folks from my paranormal group are still ahead! LOL

The paranormal group is fun. All sorts of stuff is posted. Jokes, recipes (They have formed a separate group for recipes, now. Yummy! Dawn just posted one for winter tea blends and another for Crockpot Black Bean Soup that really caught my eye. Some other deliciously fattening stuff, too but I am dieting right now. LOL), sports, science, some regional history. It's a cool list. That's why there are so many emails in my box. When I was going through the severe depression, I wasn't checking my email very often. And, I don't want to go through and just delete it without checking it out.

There was a post on the paranormal list today about ways to know you've had too much holiday cheer. There were a couple of other holiday lists included. How to confuse Santa. Things to say about gifts you don't like. One of the items on the confuse Santa list was to hang Easter Eggs on the tree and dress like the Easter Bunny and proclaim to Santa that the neighborhood isn't big enough for the both of you.

I know a girl who used to decorate her Christmas tree with Easter Eggs. In fact, that was one of the things we did at her Christmas parties, dye the eggs. She was a hoot - Mormon girl from Idaho with half-finished body tattoos and disproportionate breast implants. She used to wear long, green acrylic fingernails, and she drank lots of champagne.

The whole point of the preceding three paragraphs was to be able to mention Christie and her Easter Egg tree.

On my second day aboard the densely populated knitting list, I saw a name that I haven't seen in probably 15 years. I had thought about this girl often through the years and wondered if it was her. I had known her in high school. She was a year behind me in school, in the same class with my brother.

Cena was one of those people that I never got to know very well but always did like. She had a pretty crappy living situation in a blended family. She was very intelligent and had great strength of character. She was pretty much always on the "outside," too. I did drama. She did music. Neither of us had more than a couple of friends in high school, but we did have a few "friends." There was always just something in the back of my mind that drew me to her as a kindred spirit.

The next time I saw her was in the early '90s at a doctor's office where I was working. We had sat outside of the office on the curb talking and smoking for a long while after appointments had ended for the morning. It was a good encounter. I left the area a year or so later and left the state two years after that.

When I saw her name, I had to email her and ask if it was indeed her. It was. Too funny. Sort of karmic that I would see her name on that list, she wrote in her reply. She knits beautifully, and she spins as well. As that is going to be the next textile endeavor for me, she suggested maybe we get together after the holidays for a spin-in. Sounds wonderful! She even directed me to a couple of spinning groups.

She is married now and has two young children; living the idyllic life on some property with rabbits eating the garden and raising lots of weeds! LOL She lives maybe 30 minutes away, but now with technology, I won't have to lose track of her again when I pick up and roam. And, while I remain in exile here, I will have a friend and kindred spirit nearby.

That guy! I left him a message at 11pm to go home and charge his phone and call me. Unfortunately, I was foolish enough to admit that I had no genuine intention of dropping in. My back is pretty achy tonight, and I had soaked in the tub and was warm and relaxed. I love him, but I do have an electric blanket to keep me warm. LOL I really did not want to go out in the cold and the rain. Ugh!

I left him another message at 12:20am. Telling him goodnight and my plans were to sleep until about 3pm tomorrow as I have to work tomorrow night. He still hasn't arranged transportation to the airport for his flight Wednesday, as far as I know. When I asked him about it Saturday, he couldn't even find the e-ticket to tell me what time the flight left. (Why is it again that I love this man?)

When I arrived at his apartment Saturday night, he told me had been packing. It appeared more to be clothing, shoes, and luggage strewn about. As he was still shopping tonight, I'm sure there has not been much progress made with the "packing." I'm sure he was messing with it a bit this evening when he got home from shopping. As well as winding-down from having to go to work this morning and make statements regarding several things that are being investigated and then having to drive an hour to school to finish up one clinical recall.

Knowing how he is, I will give him a break and be understanding as to why he didn't call back. However, understanding does not remove the temptation for me to take a page from Jonathan's book of how a three-year-old perceives frustration and disappointment: "I call you bad word, Hindolo. I call you bad word."

My coworkers are nuts. I believe I have already mentioned Dorothy's backpack. She carries everything in the world in there. Everything from a bra (in case she forgets and leaves the house without one) to memory boost tablets (in case she remembers they are there so she can take one) to duct tape (which is a really good idea and I need to put some in my backpack).

Then there is Chris. He and I came at the same time years ago. He is the only original one left from our group. (I left for two years and came back.) Everything about Chris is unique. Oddball sense of humor and no mental filter. What a combination. However, he is very loyal and very trustworthy. He accuses Joni of being straight but afraid to come out about it. LOL He and his ex have been together apart for more years than they were together together. (Sounds like Al and me.)

He is a dog lover. He had to have his German Shepherd put down a few months back. He had just had pictures taken with him a couple of weeks prior. Very nice photos. He brought one in for his desk. We were talking quadrupeds the other day, and he brought up the subject of the bipolar chow-lab mix. omg! I rolled. Only Chris.

Then there is Angie. (We have two Angies and both of them are riotous in their own respects.) This Angie is staff in one of the apartments. She is in her early 40s, works two jobs. Single at present. No children. She said she realized when she was younger that having something that weighed pounds come out of her body was simply not for her in any way. She is an independent woman with a brain and more than a bit of a feminist. She happens to be African American, and she is quite opinionated on the subject of men.

We talk quite a bit about the men we work with and the men who are the significant others of some of our coworkers. She commented a couple of weeks ago when we were having a conversation about men: "He's not a man. He's just anatomically correct." omg, what an observation! I told her that was going to the blog. Here it is, and to give proper credit, Angie said that was her mother's observation on the condition of some members of the y-chromosome clan. Thank you, Miss Mary for that insightful truism.

It is after 3am. I should be able to get to bed here shortly. I do have to schlep kiddos in the morning and then return home to sleep until about 3pm. That is the usual plan anyway. Michael came home from work at noon quite ill with some sort of GI virus. In fact, he was so ill that Amanda had to pick him up from work and drive him home.

It is doubtful that he will be going to work tomorrow, so I may get out of having to deliver children to the appropriate drop-offs tomorrow morning and simply be allowed to sleep through. Oh, wow, going to work a night shift with a full measure of sleep. That almost NEVER happens, and I worked nights for many years.

It is after midnight PST, and I have yet to see Al. Maybe I should give him a buzz and see if he is nurking about somewhere. Nurking = napping + lurking. I have mentioned my propensity for creating my own vocabulary.

I did talk to Genny earlier. She is excited about the possibility that I will be able to come. She told her boss that her evil twin is on the way, and her boss was also excited by that prospect. She had not even mentioned my blog yet. LOL

One of her staff, referred to as Mini-Me by Genny, was rather disturbed at the prospect of the cartoon character names. Mini-Me eventually confessed that it was because she didn't want to be labeled as Road Runner. Genny said the funny thing was that it really did fit. LOL

Genny also said that she is formulating an attractive offer for me as I declined the first one. It isn't about money for me. It's more about serving. Hindolo and I happened to talk about that earlier today.

We have a very debilitated and very medically fragile client in the apartment where he works. This is one of those ones that I am always doing something extra for. Not necessarily for any acute problem, usually it is more of comfort measures type of things. Hindolo really likes this client. As he said to me a while back, "I like that old man." In talking today, he said he uses that particular client as his inspiration/model for how to serve people. I think he will make an excellent nurse because he "gets it."

So many people go into service fields such as nursing and do not realize that it is a service position. That's why there are bad nurses taking care of my people. You have no idea of the depth to which that disturbs me. My clients are often incapable of expressing their needs, or they express them in ways that are quite different from how "normal" people express them. Even some ambulatory, verbal patients will not say they are having pain. If you ask, they will answer. The problem lies in the fact that no one will ask them.

I had a client who had a broken collar bone. The surgeon put a pin in it. The pin came loose and was starting to protrude through her skin. The reasoning for nurses not giving her pain medication was that she didn't complain of pain. My rationale for giving her pain medication was that, if I had a pin protruding out like that, I would be needing pain medication.

Same rationale for a client who has problems with arterial circulation in her lower legs. We try very, very hard to prevent problems with her legs and feet, but she has this chronic ankle wound that opens up every year or so that takes 3 to 6 months to heal due to her poor circulation. I give her pain medicine daily when that wound is open. Only 2 other nurses do the same. If my ankle looked like that, I would be taking pain medicine two or three times a day. Additionally, having the circulation problem that she has is painful in and of itself.

Oh, and of course, if you decided to give pain medications, you have to sign them out on the narcotics log and sign two additional places on the medication record. Because it involves additional documentation, some nurses won't give pain medications. What a fucking pathetic excuse that is.

My peers cannot understand how I can be burnt out on nursing. They tease me about being a walking medical book. Ken thinks that I should go be a clinical instructor at a nursing school. My mom is still irritated that I refuse to go to medical school and be a doctor. Ideally, I would like to be the person who mentors new staff on how to care for our people. I mean, we have brand new people coming in who have no idea how to turn that 200 pound spastic quad every two hours.

One of the supervisors used to be my overnight staff on weekends. He had been working there quite a while. I found him trying to turn the 200 spastic quad. He had no clue how to do it even remotely close to the right way. All of these patients who have mobility issues and untrained staff. Still. There are lots of incidental medical things that are delegated to the staff. Nurses are supposed to inservice the staff on these procedures. From what I saw the staff doing a couple of weeks ago when changing a catheter drainage bag, the nurses aren't doing a very thorough job of inservicing. It was a serious "walk away, don't say a word, if you do you'll be fired for sure" type of moment with these two staff. I went to the office, vented, cooled down, and came back. I was completely incredulous.
Fortunately, the bag had been changed by the time I came back.

It is 5:30. I am toast. Nite