today

it is 3 months....3 months since it happened.
3 months since the 645 am phone call...
"your son is alive, but....."
no one asks me how I am and honestly , I am just me
my heart hurts today.
I have cried
I have tried to text people and I have tried to reach out.
2 people, one being my son, have responded....and he should never have to bare his mother's pain
I must keep quiet
I must be strong.
what I saw was what I saw...
and yes I was the parent notified that day,
only because my child was alive.
I saw her, I identified, I watched and cradled my son in the back seat of a squad car....vomiting and cold.
I shielded his view as they brought her out...
I blocked them from staring when the people on the street were curious...


I pleaded for them to retrieve the phone with all the numbers so that I could call her mom....
They said it is on the table...cannot move it now.
crime scene
They will call....they promised.
3 months later....
I still have the burden not calling.....
the pain of what I saw, yet grateful her mother did NOT have to see
even knowing she wishes she had been there....
I understand.

I drove home today....
3 months post....
contemplating death....
being done with the pain I carry, which should not be
It is my own ....
it would not help....
I know this.
my heart hurts for all of them....
I cannot fix it...
but yet for some reason....
I carry it
I still hear the cries,
I still see what I saw
I still carry guilt
wtf

I just want this to end...
for the sun to shine
to be done


no one asks how I feel or did feel.
what I saw....
am I ok


yes.
sure
I'm ok
we don't talk about it
we stay strong
mother
strong

m

How to pick a therapist

I'm picking a therapist.

Would anyone care to help?

I'm all ready full of OCD and anxiety, now I have to choose a therapist from a list, suggested by distance from my home, acquired from my insurance company.  There was no asking what I might need counseled in or anything...I guess I get the generic form.

It's comical.

First I started with the names...

Do they sound like therapists?

Then I google.

I google the letters after their names, their names, and then judge everything about them by their website content. 

I mean, that seems logical, right?

how else do you do it?

Of the 6 choices, one was quickly eliminated because they had no website.

This led me to believe they either were ancient with no ability for online presence, or that they were attacked by one of the people they were counseling and decided to not be present in the manner that they would be easy to locate.  There were no pictures or addresses so I decided to scratch that one of the list...I didn't want to be murdered by accident....ya know just trying to get to and from the building. I watch crime TV....I'm not dumb. So, with that said.... One down.

This dreamboat was not on my list...

I would not pick him anyway, I couldn't imagine telling him about my issues and him looking at me like that....nope. Nothing would get solved, it would be worse, way, way worse.

The other five I sorted by navigating the reviews and lists of "therapies" they can entertain/cure me with.

First off: the name Jilab... I can't even, then her most respected therapy is dance and movement therapy. I'd have to be effin crazy to drag my anxiety ridden self into marriage counseling and be treated with 45 minutes of "dance / movement" therapy!  

Unless I am doing this :

I don't think I can entertain the thought of dance therapy, and to be honest, today in boxing class I couldn't even figure out my left hook from my right hook, so this is probably out.

 Oh wait she also has hypnotherapy and aroma therapy for the soul.

no, no and another no....

badd-a-boom

OFF THE LIST!!!

That left me with a therapist who looks like Pat, which is fine, but I could not imagine my other half telling Pat his problems without thinking of SNL, honestly, could you?  And regardless of how mad I may be at my significant other....I'm not that mad.

"Y'all gotta just love each other"

Sorry Pat...off the list.

The next was a young lady.  Quite attractive and well put together. 

I circled her name....

wrote down the number....

picked up the phone ....

Then decided she was too sexy.

Won't work. 

The last was the farthest distance from my house but his website was up to date, easy to navigate and his smiling face was like the friendly, bald science teacher from middle school.

He did not look threatening, he graduated from a real college, not online certification, and he was not wearing a bow tie. 

plus he had the balls to say he was "seasoned" 

I like it.

Now if I get there and he is this "seasoned" I may have to re-evaluate a few things, including my method of choosing a therapist.

I'll try to keep you semi posted about the funny stuff....Not the bullshit tears and stuff

If you have any other suggestions feel free to leave a comment. 

all free therapy is gladly accepted.

Write ya later,

m

Oh no you didn't

Note to anyone visiting someone in the hospital.

Do not bring your ukulele unless you are this guy:

When someone asks a nurse, "may we bring a little music therapy" the nurse should double think, and or question the person asking, do NOT, and I repeat do NOT, just yell, "sure sounds great" as you dash by the room, praising God that you may not have to go in there for a bit now.

20 minutes later I had a senior citizen, belly aching, jam session going on, door wide open and high pitched yodels streaming from the curtained room.  

There was not even a door to close.

I peeked around the curtain and sure as shit....3 ukuleles, grey hairs and one in the bed smiling like the Cheshire Cat.

WHAT HAVE I DONE? 

my co workers looked at me with hatred.

Jesus Christ....I had no idea they meant this.  I thought iPhone and at worst , Michael Buble'.

so, my advice is ....just don't be that nurse.

Say Absolutely Fucking NOT.  

no therapy....no

thank me later,

m

Typhoid…it's what's for dinner

A chore which brings so many people joy, brings me anger and hatred.  I guess the people who enjoy it don't actually call it a chore, right?  

From the minute I wake up to the minute I put the last dish in the dishwasher I feel anger…anger ANGER.

When in time did it become the woman's job to cook dinner?  Someone tell me when, please.  Because I want to go back in time and destroy that rule.

I think back to the history books and yes, my memory often fails me….the only woman I can remember who did a good job for the reason woman should not be the only cooks in the household is Typhoid Mary.  She cooked for everyone and managed to kill nearly everyone of them.  Now granted, I'm no Typhoid Mary, but if it could get me out of cooking multiple unappreciated meals for my family I would consider it.  I seriously would.

I can work a 12 hour day and come home to 3 perfectly capable, all limbs attached, intelligent people standing around waiting for dinner.  

Are YOU kidding me?   I should have dinner on the table waiting for me!  

Let me also say that my cooking skills are very slim.   I enjoy cooking vegetarian meals but as for Bobby…I can't put a meat and potato dinner together if my life depended on it.  I try.  I just can't get the timing down.  

To tell you the truth, even when I do cook an average meal it is so much work and no one gives a rat's ass I never want to do it again.  What's wrong with cereal for dinner?  

Maybe I should consult with the history texts and see if I can find a few of Typhoid Mary's recipes.

Do a little reinventing of the history timeline

Next I'm going to figure out who put us in charge of Laundry.

xo,

m

Medication Error lesson.

My new job is going ok...just in case you were wondering.

Tonight is night 3 of 3, which is often easier because you usually have the same patients.  

I had my first real Medication Error last night.  OMG, you are thinking?   Well people, it happens, and I'm gonna tell you how.  It happens to all RNs at some point and it is scary but it makes us realize that we are human, and we MUST take our time when nursing.  Nothing is that rushed that we can't take our TIME!!!!  Let me preface this little lesson by saying it could have been a LOT worse.  I didn't kill anyone, thank god!  And it wasn't a drug which would have killed anyone in the dose I was giving it.

When I got on shift, my patient needed pain meds for a Femur surgery he had 3 days prior.  He was taking Percocet (aka Oxycodone with a bit of tylenol...aka Hillbilly heroin).  The nurse gave me the info in report that she had given 2 percocets at 500pm (my shift started at 7)  I was busy at the start of shift, I took my time and looked over the medication lists for all my patients and started my assessments.  I did my eval on the patient who needed pain meds and went to get his meds.  I pulled up the medication which he could have up to 2 pills evey 6 hours.  I  got the 2 pills and gave the patient the medications at 830 pm.   When I went to mark the medications off the list and verify that I had given them on the computer charting, it gave me a notification that the medications had all ready been pulled.   The previous nurse had not signed the order, which in return allowed me to give him the med again  :(

Basically the guy was double dosed.  Good news, he was huge, and that medication is often given to chronic pain patients every 3 hours.  Outcome? : patient slept like a rock, snoring like a champ...might I add Pain Free, all night long....and I learned to double check every thing, and then check again.

The living room is coming along nicely.  Walls are painted a Ginger Yellow, 1 set of white curtains hung, but still need hemmed.  One more set of curtains need pinned and hung then hemmed....then new furniture.  

We got a loan for the roof and the bathroom.  I have sent the check for the roof, so that is first.

I have fallen behind in my cash savings which freaks me out, but this next pay check (my first as a fulltime night RN) should help.

I was inspired by a couple of friends of facebook to start my running training again.

so 5k 4 days a week is on my list.

Anyone else want to train?

I did what I am now calling P35.5x 9  because I don't have time for 90 minutes of workouts.

RE upholstery: update of a semi mess

Well, Like I said, "It's not gonna reupholster itself, no matter how long I stand there looking at it."

 

   Arms are on....and all I could thing was, "Jeessus, this basement smells like the ass end of a garbage truck toting used litter boxes."

Pinning everything together to see if it is even going to start to fit together....hmmm?

(thank goodness I saved all the pieces)

Am I going to have to "ease" this in?  How hard and tortuous is that going to be?

This is too much.

Then I step back.....

Holy macaroni!

Kind of a busy pattern...gonna have to make a throw pillow to break that business up!

I have not started even looking at pulling it tight and stapling.  That is scaring me just typing it.

Bobby said, "Are we going to be able to sit in it when it's done...or is it just for looking?"

How would I know?  I am assuming we will sit in it....

But I have been wrong before.

Well, I am happy it looks like I am at least attempting to do it.  Remember it still has legs that go on it and...well, honestly I still have a looooong way to go.

Cleaning The Den of Olive's Kindergarten Stank.

I shouldn't have sat down. I was on a roll, then I saw this ol broken down chair by the computer and parked my butt in it. I have a goal today.

Olive's Room.

It is disgusting, like so many things here in my much neglected house. The idea is that she will be gone all day today and I will be home secretly throwing away little plastic toys from god only knows where. I will be recycling 400,000 sheets of paper which include everything from counting to vocabulary. I hopefully will have no mercy.

Mr. Clean will be my wing man...helping me with his "magic eraser"...

(I would so do Mr. Clean)

Mr. Murphy Soap will be supplying extra wood cleaning power and shine so her room will glow like the buttside of the church pews.

Please...wish me luck...

I'm not good with cleaning.

today, I will

Go Forth and Conquer!!!

one Barbie hooker shoe at a time

kNOw it all

NO....

NOoooOOOo...

NOOOOOOOOOOOOO

this is the only phrase my 5 1/2 year old know (no) it all can say. it's making me insane. I want to rip her precious little lips right off her face.

Yesterday I told her she had a sock stuck to her skirt and she said,

NOOooOOO

it was clearly stuck right to the front of her skirt.

I think I'm going to start answering every question like she does

360 days of my life...missed a bunch, what #?

inky, originally uploaded by v8grrl.

"That's my mom", I hear from the little girls playing with the dolls..."the one with all the tattoos.."..."and My daddy has them too!"

Todays hospital clinicals

I put a straight cath foley in a little old lady with screaming diarrhea and a vagina which would scare the hair off a hyena....that is enough clinical skill to rule the world as far as I'm concerned. I need to study....I'm gonna fail my test again