lord have mercy. I am so done with all of this, I do realize I am a nurse and it is not appropriate for me to express this....but I wanna see live music, hug a stranger, go to the damn bar and sit at the bar instead of the parking lot.........
but....
whatever.
It has been quite comical living in this tiny space. I am living with about 3 outfits, 25 pairs of shoes (because I couldn't leave my shoes) and one shared bathroom.
Im thankful that Kevin has let us in....made room for us and said he will take care of us. ( don't need anyone to take care of us, but it is divine and lovely and makes my heart happy to know he is there).
I have heard from my lawyer that the "ex" is going to accept the offer.
THE OFFER.
hahahahahahahahahahaha
Smart on his part.
Of course he is going to win....he doesn't need to deal with me, who he despised, he gets the house and most of everything I have worked for and saved .
(note to people.....if you marry up....never have your own shit or investments...that way if you split you can half of theirs regardless of your input)
to the other half.
get a prenuptial
Anyways, we will discuss that later. But sooner the divorce is finalized the sooner I can actually live.
You all know that one cannot buy a house , car , change insurance, move....etc....without divorce papers. It's one of the dickiest moves ever. They know you are stuck....if you are on the short ghetto side of divorce....just refuse to sign the divorce papers and you can live for basically free until the court says you have to sign. For me...I have to continue to pay for all of his shit until he signs. But, I'm good. I got an extra job and am maintaining mine, the kid's and apparently his lifestyle for now. And Im actually not too angry. Just more done. Move the fuck on. Let me go.
On the flip
I'm happy. Kevin is everything I have wanted, and how this happened I have no idea and don't really want to question it. I just know I deserve it, and so does he. Coming home every day to a person who is honestly happy to see me is the best. We laugh, touch, kiss and do things together. So simple....laugh, kiss the cheek and touch their butt once in a while and you are in.
Hopefully soon this divorce will be done. I will lose my forever home and most of the stuff ( this is what happens when you are the spouse with the most money and independence regardless of gender ...this is part of women's liberation I suppose) I lose the goods and money, but gain a life I deserve with people who want to be around me. Maybe a move is in my future. Denver? Florida? Nashville? Connecticut? I don't know. but it will be something.
I have been back a couple of days and have been working on my FEMA tests to become a reservist...
because maybe that is why this all happened...
my mind keeps wandering to my last few days.
Demobilization was just that.
I had 24 hours to say good-bye, clean my room, and get a flight.
I did all three....
alone and with much thought.
My room was left just as I had entered it except for a box of chocolates, 20$ bill, and a thank you note to the cleaning staff that continued to work the "dirty floor" at the Sheraton for us.
it was the least I could do.
I shut the door at 450 am, just like I had been doing for the last 22 days but this time I was heading home.
My stomach rolling with anxiety, and maybe some fear of moving forward, when I really wanted to stay, or at the least move sideways.
{This may be a long post}
The last day at Jacobi Hospital was, as I said, bittersweet. I spent the day saying goodbye to nurses, residents, and doctors, who came around after hearing "Colorado" was leaving today. I teared up every time someone said, thank you....you brought a light that was desperately needed in this area.
I fought for my last 2 patients:
One, to discharge home so that I knew she was safe and also so that I could wheel her out, as I promised I would when she was on 80L of oxygen and I was questioning the sustainability of her life.
and the second: to stay alive ....just stay alive.
All the patients who were directly under my care lived, except for 2, that I am aware of. They were my ICU patients. They were only in my care for a couple of days.
The other ones,
even the one who kept asking if he was going to die....made it out.
Wait, except for Teresa....she is still in.
Mamacita....
she spoke no English and for 20 days we used hand signals and occasional yelling to communicate.
From ventilator to Hiflo oxygen to hopefully home...
here was my day
The two women shared a room, no private rooms in covid central. One a younger social worker who fought like hell everyday to get better, and my job was to keep telling her she was getting out alive.
the other a much older hispanic woman who was slowly giving up on life and everyday I begged her to breathe...to eat the horrible hospital food, and to to move her feet so that she didn't get blood clots and die of that.... opposed to Covid.
For 20 days straight, minus the one day I got floated to another area, I walked into the room and picked up and removed all the garbage ( housekeeping was swamped and short staffed), I emptied and cleaned all bedside commodes, wiped every surface with bleach wipes, made sure Jackie and Teresa got their teeth cleaned, gowns changed, and bed linens changed (even if it meant I had to go to different areas to find what I needed).
every morning...
and every evening before I left...
I did it again.
They came to know I was fighting for them...I wanted the area clean so that they could get well.
If they were able to get to the bedside commode it was required by me...
No one gets to sit in diapers,
they must move to keep the blood flowing and to facilitate breathing.
I "suggested" they prone, or Tummy Time as we called it, and actually made a time frame for when they should do it so that we could check to off our to "do list."
Proning is one of the most effective ways to open the lungs during Covid. It is a proven help.
I wrote my name, date, goals and Dr names on the white boards so that they knew what was going on.
And when I knew what type of food they liked, or would at least try to eat, I would trade other nurses one thing for another and even bring stuff from the hotel or my personal lunch so I knew that they at least got something in their bellies.
Jackie, the younger of the 2 was making wonderful progress, she became the voice for Teresa...updating me every morning to what the night had held and what bullshit might have happened, or setbacks and began to translate for Teresa through the curtain divider.
this became our needed norm.
Teresa at one point took a turn for the worse and oxygen needs went up quickly. I begged her to breathe, and to leave the mask on which she would pull off in her hypoxic state. I sat next to the bed and held the mask to her face and told her she needed to get better...
for her kids and grand kids...
I thought....
she is going to die today...
fuck
I finally pulled open the curtain which separated them and said, "Jackie help me talk to her, please"
and they saw each other for the first time...
I asked Jackie , " please tell her...tell her she needs to breathe, she needs to be on her tummy when I ask and she needs to live...not to give up"
Jackie barked at her in Spanish and something changed....
to me it looked as if being able to see each other they became fighters on the same team.
They were in the battle together.
It took a couple of days but Teresa began to get better.
I was able to get Jackie's Hi Flo machine when she no longer needed it...
I slid it over, got everything together, and set the settings as I had watched the therapists do for the past 2 weeks...then grabbed a respiratory therapist to double check the settings and I put it on Teresa.
This meant no full face mask....she was able to drink water and take a bite of food without her oxygen level dropping to 70%
She could talk on the phone....she could sleep.
I felt like a secret agent hero getting that machine to her without anyone's help.
There were so many doctors rounding I'm sure they just thought one of the other doctors ordered it. I just charted it and kept it maintained and no one asked where it came from .
The day I left,
the doctors were slow to get everything in place for Jackie to discharge to home. She needed an oxygen tank and for some reason they could not get the paper work together.
I called every dr I had come in contact with...
I begged them to send her home...she only needed 1L of oxygen for when she got home and needed to ambulate.
"There are no tanks."
I quietly suggested that she call the insurance and tell them she would purchase her own tank...go around the doctor orders and take care of it herself.
She did...
it worked...
they still wouldn't sign discharge orders so she left Against Medical Advice and I wheeled her out to her car and her husband she had not seen in more than a month.
When she got home she texted me pictures of her new Oxygen tank, an oximeter, and correspondence with her insurance that it would all be taken care of.
Yes! Home
(she changed my life)
Before she had left, Teresa realized she was going to be alone and begged for me to get her home too...before Mother's Day
She cried and cried and Jackie kept telling me she wants to go home for Mothers Day...it is a huge deal.
she can't...she is not ready.
I cried too...
I cried because it was my last day and I didn't get her out....
I went to my google app and translated to Spanish:
You will get better
You will see your family
You are strong
and You are my heart
so please, keep breathing...
today is my last day but you are going to be ok
I can promise you that
I asked Jackie to help me get her granddaughters phone number, which she did and I was able to find her on Face Book, contact her, and tell her who I was and that her Abuela needed them...and we would like to face time.
she said give me 5 minutes and call me back.
I took the letter I wrote to Teresa ...she read it, cried, grabbed me and hugged me so tight( which we are Not supposed to do) folded the letter up kissed it and put it where her bra would be if she was wearing something other than a hospital gown.
Then I showed her my phone
and hit the dial button.
Up popped her family...and the screaming and crying began.
She had not seen them in over 37 days
they cried and cried and we said hello and laughed and I gave her the phone with a battery charger from Nurse Chuck and told her to take her time...
2 hours later...she handed me the phone and kissed my hands.
before I left that evening,
Nurse Chuck and Nurse Ivey came in the quiet room where Teresa was, now without a roommate, and soon to be without her nurse...
and we promised she would get to FaceTime again on Mother's Day
That was Wednesday
Sunday afternoon I received texts from Ivey and Chuck that the FaceTime would start at 11 rain or shine.
people are good
I sent her a video to Ivey's phone saying
Feliz dia de la Madre
Mi Amore
Ivey said Teresa watched it about 10 times and kissed my face on her phone, held it to her heart and cried.
I'm going to miss her
I do miss her
and I actually ask about her every morning....
I send a text " what's the oxygen"
and they just answer with a number and a thumbs up.
When I got home the first random message I got was from a lady stating that they heard the nurses were killing patients....letting them die. That they weren't treating them with medication,
that no one gave a shit....
that the old and weary got left to die so that someone else could get the equipment....
that people were working above their knowledge base which in turn was for sure doing damage.
I cried when I got that text...
I cried because yes....everyone was working above their knowledge base...there is no treatment for Covid except ventilator, vitamin C, Zinc. proning, and luck...We did not do compressions when someone coded....because it spreads the virus everywhere and it wasn't safe...but that didn't mean we weren't trying. We all did are best and many are still there, still cleaning up and continuing to finish their job in NYC.
all I can say is, wear your mask...
take your vitamins,
and know that there will always be a nurse to care for you
When the heart is broken, non working, unable, a piece of crap for so long....
one starts to figure out ways to feel again.
to feel like a person again....
to see if it's worthy...
not just the heart....
but your soul, and your person
you begin to question are you not only lovable again....
are you even fucking likable?
Are you too weird in the head to let people in?
Have you buried your thoughts for so long they have become a deviant, hot mess 6 inches below the surface and if someone gets that magic key and opens the door...
lord have mercy...
they are no way going to be ready.
even if they adore you from the outside....
the inside...
is
not
safe
but yet as I have been told,
"it is unfortunate that you have this amazing body and are so fun...
and yet....
it's still connected to your brain"
Yes....
all this....
it unfortunately comes with my personality too....
sorry
you are awesome, you are beautiful, fucking amazing....
but...
always....
but....
last call girl
friend to all
always awake
always here
talkable
perfectly fun
"but I can never be with you,
I know too much....
we don't mesh...
our ideals are different...
you would never fit in with my friends...."
"send me a pic...
talk to me....
come spend the night...."
now I learn how to be
how to maybe love again
how to choose wisely
how to laugh
how to touch
how to let go
xo
write ya later
I got this
slow and steady wins the race
m
Life is short .... so cliche
My life and the paths I have chosen have been wonderful
The people I have chosen to be with...
I love them all
People change
I have changed
My needs have changed
My love of activity and adventure has changed
My need for love and companionship has grown
And although my independence has grown 100 fold,
Literally.....
I want to share my love, adventures , laughter, ups and downs ,
with people who want to be near me .
It is a real thing
I feel it
Tonight I asked someone to help me
It’s not my norm.
But the people around me understand ....
My request was simple....
Explain
Explain what happened between us
Make it as beautiful as it was
Or is
Tell them,
So that I can breathe again
So that I can lift my head....
And heart .
Help me
So that I can climb from this pit
Into the warmth of it all
And smile
Again
Help me
So that my two hands ....
Can hold your two hands
My lips can whisper ....
Thank you
In your ear
Help me
So that my story can resume
In the open
Crossing with your story
As it is being written
Without shame
But as it should be ....
With love
I went to bed yesterday at 6:40pm and woke at 8am....
Still tired, aged 1000 years and my list of shit I need to accomplish continues to grow.
I took this picture to remind myself I am still alive...
My son is still alive....
and my heart is still beating.
all the cocktails in the world will not help
my drug days are way over (thank you)...
Talking to people really doesn't help, because all it does is push people away in an awkward manner
and
ignoring myself apparently will not help
I have told myself this morning, as I drink my green smoothie, get ready for going down my list and accomplishing things such as brushing teeth, eating a solid food, going outside, laundry (because I stink), and try to exercise...
I tell myself that I am not going to be that friend people want to ignore after today.
My life is not that heavy and my problems should be mine and mine alone.
But I am going to share a one sided story.
Then I will say my thanks to the people I love.
I was Elliot.
I lived the life of bars, strip clubs...poor choices in men.
is it a gene? is it a lack of fatherly love?
who knows.
Was I sexually abused by my dad? NO
The neighbor boy up the street? Yes...
but I thought it was a game....
I have never been a victim.
even after being raped by a man I knew,
who broke into my apartment while I was at work and waited for me.
my fault...
play the game and recover...
These people in my life were poor decisions and I set myself up for bad shit to happen.
I was young.
I was headstrong
and I didn't care for myself a whole hell of a lot.
I worked precarious jobs, but was always smart enough to not get too involved.
I worked with questionable people,
but again....
stayed solo in my life...
hopping from situation to situation with close friends often not even knowing where or what I was doing.
did I do drugs? yes.
with the promise I would never shoot-up...
I never did...
but, you can get the same effect smoking or snorting.
Waking up in people's house and not knowing where you are...
wrong side of town...
outside in a yard...
with blood pouring from a knife slice from someone I trusted...
and a scar not even a tattoo can cover
funny stories, now....kind of...
Somehow I avoided death and the addictive gene.
I begged my soul for help to be stronger, and to not want so much...
I wrote letters to myself...
reminders...
you got this
all by your self....
you got this.
I knew (know) I was (am) a broken person.
wanting to be loved more than anyone can actually give.
I finally left that town...Atlanta.
I escaped...
moved to the mountains in Colorado
I got a day job
I milked goats.
Someone who did not know a thing about me gave me chance waiting tables in a breakfast place.
I didn't have access to drugs...
I didn't have access to friends...
I was horrifying lonely...
sad...
really sad
I lapsed a few times with poor decisions...
but I made it.
here I am....
and maybe that is why I am so saddened for the death of Elliot.
Because I saw her resume sitting on the table that morning when the police asked me to go in and look around.
She was trying.
She constructed an entire resume outlining her strengths and work ethic.
To go from nightlife
to the safety of day life.
but she did not make it
stuck in the night.
That is my short version of my story.
Many parts of my life are very secret.
laughable and haunting.
here I am at 50.
looking into a time machine of a young girl who was living my life and many other's
poor choices...
heartbreakingly lonely
and a young man who couldn't fix or love her enough
Funny how things are just as they are to be, nothing you can do to change it.
I laughed yesterday at my job interview when they asked (of course) what my strengths and weaknesses were.
This is an old tactic, standard interview question in which I used to fret over.
This time when asked I chuckled and said....
"I am going to be completely honest with this....because as I get older I have learned my strength is also my weakness and often bites me in the butt. Mine is work ethic. Mine, I have realized, is somewhat higher than most and although I know this, and also know people work differently, it still often puts a crimp in my arrow"
I got the job.
I got home and no one asked how it went, did I get the job?
....maybe no one even knew I applied, or was going to the interview.
No celebration or congrats.
Which is fine, just made me laugh a bit. One of those exciting then, who the fuck cares moments.
This is job 3 and I am picking it up as a per diem, to start, to make sure I enjoy it. I will stay as long as possible at the main job, continue to pick up treadmill shifts and then slide this job in 2-3 times a month. Goal is to pay off my school debt (which really isn't much) in a quicker manner.
debt free would be good right now...
As Murphy's law has it....
Someone came to look at the house radiant heater. It is as old as the house....and obviously cannot be repaired, must be replaced...I stood there and laughed on the inside as the young guy said,
"well, the estimate for the complete energy efficient redo is about $12k"
hahahah
FML
maybe a 4th job is needed?
so, what did I do....
1. I laid on the couch and admired my beautiful grey hair...
2. knitted
3. cried and laughed
4. looked again at apartments
5. sent some fuck you's in my mind to a few people
6. texted a few sweet nothings to a few
7. home workout
3/2/19
when I finally got my self together and remembered regardless of all of it...that I still am training to run in a few months and the training schedule says I have to full body train....
Which I usually do, but missed the gym class
So, 30 pushups
I really need to do them 3 different ways but I just did not have the strength today
and a ton of 1 legged butt lifts.
Even though a girlfriend said, no one cares what you look like ...I agree.... but I care a little, for myself....
seriously.
I like strong legs and shoulders. and an ok butt, with or without standard cellulite.
plus it makes ya feel better
I encourage you to give it a try
pushups and pullups
Life is grand and things just have to happen the way they are supposed to...
if its meant to be it will
absolutely nothing to dwell on or try to change because you really just can't
I keep thinking the soul knows the direction and the heart sometimes fucks with that path....
Time spent alone in a crowd always makes one think. Mostly, for me, it's "why am I doing this, this would be better with a friend or two.... "
then I look down and see this:
Does it really mean someone is thinking about me, or trying to contact me?
Hmmmm I hope so.... we will discuss that in a minute.
I particularly like the fact it says 100% charged.
If you are wondering, I did a Cupids Undie Run. It was fun, I raised about 600$ , so I am happy with that. I signed up, because someone suggested it, and I thought "that does sound like fun, especially with you ...."
I was pretty excited to get to do a fun activity with this person, something out of the norm where you kind of get to see how someone is in a different situation.
You can guess...
For whatever reason ,they were unable to attend , But I stuck it out, even though I was nervous.
2/23/19
I put on my outfit, regardless of what I was worried about, and went.
Did I mingle?
a bit,
Did I drink?
DUH
( it was free)
I talked to quite a few people, but no connections, except for some young guy named Patrick....we talked for about 30 minutes or so maybe longer, then I sent him on his way... even if he was cute....and it was actually good conversation, there were way too many young girls around.... I smartly said, " You are awesome, gotta run to the bathroom .... maybe I'll see you out there "
and left him to hit his age group...
( he did find me out side, ran up like we were old buddies, picked me up and swung me around and sat me back down"
"I'm gonna be running right next to you! "
( I got a head start and lost him the crowd)
In my Undies....
Denver's Finest
Aww. he's so nice to pose with me
Oh, then I pulled a classic Myssi, fell on a teeny tiny bit of snow.
Ya know...It was like the Universe reminding me that I'm old
hahaha
It was a fairly good day.
I stayed at my most fabulous niece's house, in hopes of going out that night.
Unfortunately I was tired...and mopey, due to life stresses
I sat on the couch, dozing in and out thinking about life....
11:11
is it dead people, or just people in general who are thinking of you?....because I have been thinking a lot about my dead mom, dead dog and my living brother.
the 2 who are dead have been visiting my dreams quite a bit. It saddens me to no extent so I don't want to think about it.
The live one, my youngest brother , Jamie, has also been in my heart. I have tried to text him and call him but to no real avail. He answered once then got confused and said he had to go,
We were so close as kids ( he's 5 years older) but he has had is own demons to battle.
he now has AIDS and multiple issues. The dementia associated with the illness is not conducive to good conversation, so when I do get him on the phone it's depressing.
It gives me guilt.
I hope he knows I love him so very much, but I don't think he does.
Don't judge
I want to have sex more often.
A lot more...
but I really don't want it to be just random...
For me, it has to have some attachment and meaning,
better yet.... real sex, with emotion. The kind where you look in the other's eyes and smile on the inside thinking
"fuck yes"
Now a days people are so guarded with their emotions, I am not sure this can even happen.
Why is it we can't say to other's ...?
"I like you...
let's just see.
Let's see what we can learn and the good stuff we can experience."
I believe there is too much looking for perfect, not wanting to look like the low person, and not just thinking, " we are pretty awesome together.....let's do this...."
we need more thinking outside the box when it comes to attraction.
Why do people have to wait a reasonable amount of time befor talking to the other?
what does this prove?
Whenever I think about people waiting too long to respond or make the first move...I think, you are going to miss out.
How many times do we wait just to find out the person you want to see is seeing someone else, because you didn't call and make a plan.
Where is it going
Things are getting packed up around my house. But I'm not sure where it is going.
Still, no voicing any concern or plans from the other half.
Actually the other day as he left the house he said, " I'm going to practice"
and kissed me on the lips
strange.
we haven't kissed or even pecked in months.
Is this some sort of mind game?
Or did he forget.
It's like groundhog's day
Sleep
I believe me asking for a split has relieved an entire load off of my inner soul.
Not that I don't have something to take it's place...
But for some reason I have been sleeping.
I have been getting about 5 hours a night and lately I have been waking up and not wanting to get up
I want to sleep....
just 30 more minutes.
just 30 more....
The other night, after work, I crawled under the blanket before dinner.
I slept so hard and peacefully that when I woke, it was actually time to GO to bed.
dreams and peace....
and warmth.
Sleep, as such, is cathartic.
Thoughtfulness
what a great action.
incorporating it into my life in little ways. I feel as if I have always been thoughtful, but the world can use more. People should hear how they are doing good things...
how they are valued.
how they are in one's mind and heart
even the people who just cross your path....
I sent a few gifts to people I have known for years via online...
a hand made bag I know one has admired and mentioned she would love to own,
a knit hat....to another whom has asked occasionally for a hand knit, yet I have never had time.
a pin to a friend in San Diego...he collects and has admired a few of the ones I have.
a hand written card and note to another
A dinner casserole in the fridge for a friend who is so busy and cooking for self is a chore.
Maybe, in a way it is more for me, than for them.
I'm not sure
I was told to take care of myself
to stop thinking about others
and focus on self.
I agree that I should put myself first occasionally,
and I'm learning.
It isn't easy, after all these years, to just stop caring for others in the way that I do.
Is it a bad thing?
maybe this is just me.
you know what would be cool?
Someone caring for me as such...
My niece said,
'You so deserve to be worshiped, you don't even know"
