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Daily Post 200: Surviving Friday

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So I haven’t written in a few days and that’s mostly because Friday was such a hellacious day at work that it’s taken me this long to recover.

Friday started out amazing. It was the 14th. I’m not super into Valentine’s day, but February 14th was my first full day in Nebraska. It’s the day Ox and I agreed to be our anniversary because it was the start of us being together. So, regardless of it being Valentine’s day, the 14th is an important day for both of us.

My day started with waking up at 2 am like normal to take my Synthroid. When I went to the restroom there was a card on the sink counter; a card from Ox. I opened to see a glitter Valentine’s day card saying, “Sometimes I wonder why I put up with you!” Opening the card showed the response, “Oh yeah, now I remember. You put up with me!”

It really was the perfect card. We both ask each other that question all the time. “Why do you put up with me?”

There was a handwritten message below the printed one.

Ox: It also helps that you are so beautiful, smart, funny and strong. Along with so many other things too numerous to list. I love you, Jennifer. Happy Valentine’s day and 2 year anniversary. xoxo

I was nearly in tears and I crawled back into bed and hugged Ox as he slept. It was such a nice surprise. I wasn’t expecting anything. I’m not into gifts. We hadn’t talked about getting each other anything. It was just another day that ended in “y”. But no. It WAS, IS, a special day and I got something special to make it special.

When Ox woke up I hugged and thanked him for my card. He said he had found it weeks ago as he was walking through Walmart and had to get it and he had to wait this whole time to be able to give it to me. I can only imagine how hard it was to keep it that long, waiting to see my reaction.

It was a nice way to start the day. There was no indication of the hell I was about to go through. Work even started fine. I got my paperwork signed so I didn’t have that looming over me. The only thing left was to put it in the mail so I could get a date set for taking the test. I paid bills, too, because I was all gung-ho about being a productive adult.

My Brain: Yeah! Let’s conquer the day!
Universe: Hold my beer…

It wasn’t until change over started that shit hit the fan. Our first three patients had low standing blood pressure for roughly 40 minutes each. Since they drive to their treatment, we legally cannot let them leave until their pressure is within a certain range. It sucked. Hardcore. Words can’t express the level of suckage the rest of the day was. The RN and I did the best we could, but when you’re running 40 minutes behind there’s really not much you can do. : /

I was so beat up mentally by the time the day was done. I don’t really remember what I did after getting off work. I put my CCHT papers in an envelope and got it ready to be sent out. I think I started creating a “bag of tricks” sheet for the item my D&D character is using. I didn’t do a whole lot with it though. The mental effort wasn’t worth it. I do know that I went to bed praying that Saturday was a better day.

It was, thankfully. Quiet. Smooth. Nothing crazy. No low blood pressures. I was still dead on the inside, though, so it didn’t matter that the day was good. My goal was to survive and I did. Mission accomplished. Nothing extra. No to-do list to make me feel guilty. Nothing to accomplish after work other than not being at work. No socializing. No obligations. Nothing other than silence both inside my head and outside of it around me.

I did end up filling out a loan application with my bank since Jon is going to be moving to Nebraska. More on that later. The process took longer than I felt it should have since some of their instructions were unclear. I had to talk to a lady on the phone. She was extremely pleasant and helped me find the correct forms to upload. I also talked to a realtor about a house and set up a viewing of the property. I colored for a bit, wondering why I was so tied before realizing that, oh yeah, it’s because it’s 7 and that’s my bedtime.

I packed up my color pencils and went to bed with the knowledge that Sunday was a blessed day off and that for the next 24 hours I didn’t have to care about blood pressures or flipping stations fast enough for the next shift of patients.

Sunday was pretty low key. I went about my morning routine. I’m starting to find comfort in it. There’s a flow to my mornings now that wasn’t there before. There’s a pace that helps me gear up for the day. Eventually, I was ready to make an attempt at being productive.

I started by tackling the bedroom. I worked up a bit of a sweat doing it but by the end, the bed was made, the floors were swept, and the kittens had a billion toys returned to them from the random hiding places they’ve been finding to stash them.

I spent the vast majority of the day coloring. Ox and I talked a few times. When I mentioned how I hadn’t really been doing much, he encouraged me to take it easy.

Ox: You don’t get many days like this. Enjoy it.

I didn’t have school work to do. The chores were mostly done. Could I do more? Yeah. We could always be doing more. But at what point do you say it’s good enough and take some time for yourself?

That’s what Sunday was. I took a nap in the sunlight with the kittens. I made a lot of progress on my project. I actually relaxed instead of giving myself shit for not going to the gym or doing any of the other things that could have gotten done. It was a nice day and the start of my recovery from the day that was Friday.

I finished my “bag of tricks” sheets and got them printed. I even put the pages in my D&D binder. I went through the pictures on my phone and cleaned out all of the memes I’ve downloaded for text message replies since I live my life through memes. I also made a level two character sheet since our characters are most likely going to level up during our next session. I took the spell Inflict Wounds. I may be a cleric but you definitely don’t want to piss my character off. I will end you. XD

That was pretty much all of Sunday. Nice and slowly productive on things that I actually wanted to personally work on. Very much a “me” day and I think I benefited from it.

That brings us to yesterday. Monday. Another workday.

Ox and I met in the morning. I didn’t want to go to work. I was tired. I was sore. My feet hurt still. I didn’t want to do it. At all. ;-;

I trudged off to work, promising Ox that I would drive safely and that I would try to have a good day.

The day went well. Much smoother than Friday. No low blood pressures this time. My RN and I kicked serious ass. We ended up closing the clinic 30 minutes after our last patient’s treatment ended. We’re given an hour to do it, so us closing up 30 minutes “early” put us in the green as far as their calculations for labor go.

My Brain: Hell yeah! Go Team Awesome!

I drove home. I stopped at the gas station since I was running too low on gas to make it to school the next day. I picked up cigarettes for Ox and myself. I even bought a car wash while I was there. My back window was grungy. I had thought to just wash the window then thought… what the hell. Let’s get the whole thing washed.

Yeah. That’s how ok I was feeling. Went to work and can still do stuff like a badass. /flex

I stopped at the house to see Ox for a bit. Monday night is raid night for him so I wasn’t planning on staying long. Jon called while I was there so I talked to him for a bit. We talked about him withdrawing from school and what that would mean. I told him that only he could say what it meant for him. If other people thought it was a failure then they could go fuck themselves because they’re not the ones living his life. Only he could make the choices that were right for him.

I had been starving on the drive home. Seriously, the stirring wheel was looking tasty. While I was in the middle of raiding the fridge for any and all leftovers, I got a call from my FA.

An issue was brought to her attention that she needed to address with me. The nurses were making comments about how I have been coloring at the nurses desk during downtime.

First off… What the hell guys? We’ve been killing it during the days that I work since I’ve been back from surgery. What the fuck? Secondly, if you have an issue with it, why didn’t you feel like you could say something to me personally? It’s not like I’m an unreasonable bitch who can’t be talked to. : /

My FA said her first response to the comments was, “Is she still taking care of the machines when they alarm?”

Nurse: Well, yeah.
FA: Ok.

Essentially, the nurses couldn’t say that I am slacking on my duties or doing anything wrong. In fact, I’m doing everything right. They just don’t like the fact that I’m not “working”. I would like to take a moment that I don’t think it’s both nurses. I think it’s one specifically.

My FA said she understood that coloring right now is a coping mechanism for me. The 19th is almost here. I’ve been waiting for this day. I’ll finally get answers. I’ll finally know the next steps and how my endocrinologist wants to handle my situation. I’ll know if my meds are right. I’ll know how fucked I am for the future. I’ll know what I need to do in regards to school if I have to be hospitalized. I’ll finally know what chaos is in my future and how it’s going to interfere with the peace and calm that I’ve been so hesitant to enjoy.

I know I haven’t written a whole lot about it and maybe I should have delved more into this side of my life. I did mention how I felt like this era of calm wouldn’t last and that I’m about to enter another stormy, uncertain time. I’ve been holding my breath, waiting, because there isn’t anything else for me to do but I hate waiting and I’m not good at it so what can I do other than smoke a million cigarettes to get me through until I know what’s going on?

I told my FA that coloring has been helping me with those feelings. During the downtime at work, if there is any, once all my tasks are done and vitals are caught up and there’s literally nothing to do except wait for treatments to end, I’ve been coloring because my other options are to go outside and smoke or sit and stew inside my own head. It keeps those feelings in check. It gives me a way to wonder through my mind without getting lost or sad or feeling like I have no control over what’s going on.

My Brain: I still have cancer, but you know what, I really think this section would look good with another layer of purple. Let’s do it. It’s ok to have cancer. I can still make pretty things while having cancer. Cancer isn’t the end of my life. Things will be ok. Things are ok. Oh, my alarm is going off. Our first treatment is about to end so let me put this aside for now and go prep for change over.

She understood where I was coming from. She said she was actually glad I had found something to help me be mentally and emotionally ok. She said that since the patients are taken care of she doesn’t care if I color or not. She said she needed me to be ok more than she needed the nurses to be happy. I do good work. If the nurses want to be catty that’s on them. I still answer the alarms. I still chart when it’s supposed to be done. I’m not sitting behind the desk while things need to be taken care of, ignoring my duties so in her mind there isn’t an issue.

She said as a manager, she had an obligation to bring up the topic with me. So, she called. We talked about it. End of story.

I told her I was sorry for causing friction within our team. That wasn’t my intention. Maybe if I get a chance to talk to her again I can ask why the nurse(s) didn’t feel like they could talk to me. Why did this issue have to be a secret conversation with my boss? Why couldn’t we have been adults and talked to each other about an issue?

My FA said during her conversation she told the nurse(s) that we needed to get through the 19th. She thinks I’ll feel better once I have answers. I hope I do. I don’t like not knowing what’s going on with my life. And even when I do finally know what we’re going to be doing, it’s not like I have much of a choice. It’s more like I’m being dictated to.

Dr: This is what you need to do so you don’t die. What do you want to do?

My Brain: Talk about choice paralysis. How am I supposed to make a decision with some many outstanding options? Well… since I’m not really on board with the whole dying thing… I guess lets go with the staying alive thing…

So yeah. I wasn’t expecting to have a conversation like that with my boss, but I’m glad I have her support and I’m glad that she understood me and defended me when other people wanted to assume untrue things.

FA: You don’t complain. You are a quiet person and you keep your personal troubles to yourself. Just because you’re not complaining doesn’t mean you’re ok. Other people need to imagine what it’s like to be in your shoes.

Warm fuzzy feelings. I appreciated my conversation with her and it made everything feel worth it. Staying with the company, moving to Nebraska, all of it. I have an amazing boss. Not everyone can say that and so I’m grateful.

Not a whole lot happened the rest of the night. I ended up being at the house when Mama Ox came home with groceries so I helped carry them inside. I went to the apartment shortly after that. I colored more. I went to bed. Ox came over. There was mind-blowing, amazing sexy time followed by a night of deep, restful sleep.

This morning has been off to a nice start. It’s sunny which helps. I’ve found a few more postings for houses. The new ones I showed Jon are rent to own and they allow pets since he now has a dog and I have the kittens. The properties are a bit further away then I would like, but they’re nice. I sent messages to see about viewing the inside of them. We’ll see where that goes.

Aside from that, I’ve written. Hooray. I need to shower and get ready for school. Ox and I have plans to meet up and do the grocery shopping. I’m looking forward to today and the next two… ish… Not really looking forward to my appointment, but I don’t have to be at work, so there’s that. Maybe I can finish recovering from Friday.

Daily Post 162: A Pretty Big Decision

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So I’m thinking about something… and… it’s a big sort of something. A something I have never done or thought about doing before…

I’m seriously contemplating dropping my Human Anatomy class. That’s after I spent four hours of Thursday night working through study modules for the online part of the textbook, which are assigned by the teacher; modules which covered topics that were NEVER mentioned ANYWHERE in ANY of the material we were told to study.

Infuriated Brain: What the fuck dude? Do you know what I could have done with four hours of my life instead of sitting in front of my computer feeling like a failure where I tried to guess the best I could to answer questions I had no clue about because you specifically told us to skip over those sections? I could have gone to the dojo, which I didn’t do because I prioritized your class above that hour of self-care. I prioritized reading and trying my hardest to study the different foramen and condyles and processes of the skull with instructions saying, “put a piece of pipe cleaner through [insert random foramen here], now flip the skull to an inferior view to see where the pipe cleaner emerges.”

I DON’T HAVE A FUCKING SKULL IN FRONT OF ME TO DO THIS EXERCISE HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME TO LEARN THIS SHIT?!?

There’s no auditory anything. There’s no kinesthetic anything. There’s no structure or direction for this class and even though I have an A in it currently, the mental and emotional strain it has taken me to get through these past three chapters doesn’t feel worth it. I get that this class is hard. In no way should it be THIS hard. I shouldn’t be answering questions right because I bought a $25 dollar anatomy coloring book on my own accord and it just happened to cover information that I was tested on that wasn’t covered in the actual class material.

I’m sacrificing the leadership class I actually want to do. I’m sacrificing personal time. My work performance is being affected because all I can think about while I’m at work is how I’m not studying and how if I don’t study I’m going to fail.

Ox and I talked about it this morning after I woke up sober from drinking last night. Yes. That’s how bad it was. I was to the point where fuck it. I’m drinking because mentally and emotionally I hurt and I’m tired of hurting and being frustrated. I’m tired of feeling like this so I’m going to drink so for a few hours I feel different or at least am ok with the complete suckage that I’ve made my life.

His suggestion was to drop the class. He said it’s just money. It’s not worth all of the stress I’m having to go through. He said I could drop it and try taking it again in a classroom rather than online. He said I have a lot on my plate right now, more than what I probably should have given myself. He said I have no time for me. And aside from myself, Ox is the most affected person. He pulls me up and helps me keep going. He listens to me and wipes away the tears of fury and crushing self-doubt.

I had never thought of dropping the class as an option. And of course, because I’m me, I started crying at the thought of dropping the class because what if everyone thinkings that I’m not good enough; that I am a failure and a fuck up and a disappointment. What then? What do I tell my patients? What do I tell my boss? What do I tell Jon?

Ox assured me that he wouldn’t think of me as a failure which put me on the road to feeling better. If my partner doesn’t think I’m a failure then how much does it really matter if my patients do?

I talked to Jon and asked him what he thought. He said from what I’ve told him he has to agree with Ox, which might have killed a small part of him on the inside to admit to.

He said the structure of the class sounded fucked up. Even his other nursing friends who he’s told about my class thinks it’s fucked up. Jon thinks it would be good for me to try taking the class at a different time via a different avenue.

So that’s two out of three people who assured me they would still love me, respect me, and not think of me as a failure if I go down this road.

The last person I need/want to talk to about this decision is my FA; my boss. I want her opinion. I want to know that she’ll be ok with me trying this again at a later time. After my leadership class. After my training to become a preceptor for the clinic. After being able to enjoy the warmth of summer finally rather than spending every day all day inside crying over a textbook that gives me no clarity or assurance of being able to pass a test that’s full of uncovered material. After potentially competing in my first Muay Thai tournament.

I’ve felt ridiculously better all day at the thought of not having this class hanging over me. It felt like I could breathe again. Doing laundry and meal prepping and making the bed weren’t horrific tasks that chipped away at the minimal study time I could get while the kids are here.

I feel like I’ve already made up my mind and that talking to my FA is more of a formality. “Hey, so this class is killing me on the inside and instead of getting pushed to the point where I set my life on fire and move halfway across the country again, I would prefer to drop this class and focus on the work obligations that I legitimately want to be successful with verses keeping a class I could retake in a method more conducive to my learning styles. Would you be ok with me as an employee and friend if I did that or would that bring into question the quality of my character?”

Because that’s what it ultimately comes down to for me. I do feel this would be the best option for me, but I don’t want my choice to reflect badly on me or the people I care about and who support me. I want them to understand where I’m at and I want to know their perspective of the situation and that they still support me and believe in me and care.

Money isn’t worth my wellbeing. I don’t know why that resonates so deeply within myself, but having my partner say that to me makes me feel… safe? Cared for? Loved?

He more than anyone else sees how much I’m struggling. It doesn’t matter that I have an A. I feel like I’m clinging by my fingertips to the edge of a skyscraper and that at any moment I’m going to fall and not recover and all of the holding on and struggle and effort will be for nothing. I don’t feel secure in the information I’ve retained. I don’t have faith in studying the right material due to the experience with these last assignments. It’s a ticking time-bomb and the longer it goes on the more I’m going to have to give up and miss out on and lose.

The more times I’ll skip the dojo. The more times I won’t cross-stitch. The more times I’ll be short and bitchy at work. The more I’ll be selfish because of feeling like I’m already giving up so much so fuck compromising or caring about others.

That’s not how I want to be. That’s not who or how I truly am. That’s “stress” me. That’s “beyond burnt out but still having to keep going” me. That’s not a fun me and I keep putting myself in these situations and expecting myself to be ok or to magically be able to function without the things I need to recover.

I’m sort of done with putting myself in Suckville. I don’t want to be there. I don’t deserve to be there so before I end up fully there I’m going to talk to my FA and then go to the campus Wednesday and see what can be done.

I feel like this is a pretty big decision. I feel like it’s going to be hard to explain to a lot of people. I also feel like the most important people in my life understand and that’s all that really should matter in the end. I can’t expect everyone to understand. But two of the three people this choice affects the most are in agreeance that dropping my most stressful and least wanted obligation would be a positive direction for me.

So that’s how I’m going to sleep tonight. Lighter. Freer. Calmer. Less stressed.

It’s a nice, stable feeling. I like feeling stable verses tear-stained and failure feeling.

Musing Moments 119: A Heartfelt Thank You

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I stayed an extra two hours at the clinic last Friday, wrapping things up and making sure the clinic was in a good spot before my trip out to Dever for training. While I was there I took the time to write a letter to my FA. I had been wanting to do this since getting my wage increase at work but had never made the time to figure out exactly what I wanted to say. Sitting alone, surrounded by the quietness of a place I know feel a part of and comfortable in allowed the words to flow and to express what I never seemed to be able to say during the busy hours of work. This is what I wrote.

 

Side note: I changed the greeting line to avoid using actual names.

 

 

Hey Amazing FA,

Firstly, I hope your morning is off to a good start; at least as good as it can be at 4 in the morning. : p

Secondly, I wanted to type this out since I felt that a sticky note wouldn’t be able to fully explain the stack of papers you’ll find under this one.

I’ve recently had a hard time keeping up with all of the in-service documentation during normal clinic hours. I took time Friday evening to catch back up. While I was cleaning the top drawer of the PCT deck I found a few in-service documents dating back by quite a few months. I apologize for this lapse on my part.

To prevent this from happening in the future I have placed a hanging folder in the second drawer of the PCT deck which will only be used for my incomplete in-service paperwork. This, ideally, should prevent further in-service documentation from being misplaced or forgotten.

     –     –     –     –     –     –     –     –     –     –     –

And last but not least, on a personal note, I would like to take a moment to write something that I haven’t figured out quite yet how to express in words in regards to my wage increase.

Thank you.

And I don’t mean that in just a normal “thank you” sort of way. I mean it in a heartfelt way. I mean it in a very real and human sort of way in which those words cannot truly express or encompass everything I wish I could convey.

Some people may look at my increase and see only digits being added to my paycheck or dollars being taken away from the company.

This increase to me, however, IS my dojo and I needed you to know that.

It wasn’t just numbers to me. It wasn’t just digits changing the bottom line. Your kindness gave me my safe place. It gave me my “me time”. It gave me personal growth and fun and challenges and my inner strength and a way to cope with my grief over mom’s death.

You made it possible for me to have something that I was struggling to afford and for that, I will always be grateful. For that, “thank you” can never be enough. “Thank you” cannot possibly hope to contain all of the gratitude I feel and yet I have no better words other than those two.

So… thank you, deeply, sincerely. for everything. Thank you for reading this novel of a letter. Thank you for supporting and encouraging me. And most importantly, thank you for being my FA.

Try to have a good week. I’ll see you on Friday. : )

Your PCT,

Jen