Fish. Damn Fish.

So when I created this blog, I added a fish gadget at the bottom of the page; you know, just for fun.  Well  now I feel guilty if I don't feed them.  They're not real fish.  Wow, the pressure we place on ourselves, even for totally insignificant things.

This pseudo-guilt I place on myself for my lack of feeding the damn cyber fish is ridiculous, but it says something about character.  I feel responsibility to care for people, animals, and things around me.  Sometimes I place too much responsibility on myself then look back and feel overwhelmed.  I can't really curse the world for placing so much on my shoulders when it's self-inflicted.  As a nurse, I think that it comes with the role to a point.  We are caregivers who place the responsibility of the health of our patients on ourselves.  It is a huge disservice to ourselves, putting unrealistic expectations upon the care we give, knowing full well that if we fail (usually only failure by our own definition), we will internally punish ourselves until we have eaten just enough of our self-esteem away to hurt.  Ugh. Stupid fish.

It's all good...

I took Milton outside for his “break” and looked around.  It’s a nice evening with a gentle breeze and a colorful sunset.  I looked at the house that holds my family, where Ali is watching TV while (I’m certain) on the internet.  She is probably doing homework between Facebook check-ins, but that’s ok; as long as homework gets in there somewhere.  Kat drove the car she is helping to pay for to work, where she is being responsible and helpful (I assume).  Soon she will be home and hear that the college she has applied to is calling her back and she can begin to plan her future; a future without limits and without my constant observation.  Ali will soon be buying her class ring; Kat will be buying her senior pictures.  Where did that time go?  We have a dog and two cats with full stomachs, food in the refrigerator, lights, heat, and clothes for everyday and multiple occasions.  As my eyes start to feel tired, I'm reminded that work can be hard and tiring, but I will never take it for granted.  As Milton decided that he’s been out long enough and is wondering why I’m just standing there with a glazed look in my eye, I realized: I’m doing pretty damn good.

WTF is going on around here?!

Ok, I'll admit it; our unit is hard to work on.  Most of our patients are confused and they just LOVE to climb out of bed in a valiant attempt at smacking the ground.  Let's just say we all wear running shoes.  Doctors come and go so fast we sometimes miss them, families with a sense of entitilement push our buttons, and a moment away to urinate is a luxury.  Despite all of this, our staff is great; we get along, we support each other (for the most part), we do things together outside of work, and we just have a great sense of teamwork (again, for the most part).  So why are we suffering a mass exodus?  Staff are running and not looking back.  is the grass really greener over there?  What's on the other side of that fence?  Hey wait, what IS over there?  If I get up on my toes I can maybe see....

Oh, the drained desperation.

Today I remembered that I started this blog with the determination to post daily.  No matter what was going on, I would find the time to vent it out in writing even if I was the only one reading it.  It's therapeutic, I told myself.  It's pressure-filled and deranged; the only one creating the pressure is me.  Therefore, I have come to a conclusion.  I will post when I damn well feel like it.  Ah, see?  So much better.

My work schedule is taking the oomph right out of me.  I work day/night and don't know which shift I like more.  My two days this week have been filled with meetings (yawn) and furious work that I only barely finish.  I now work the night shift tonight and tomorrow, where I will do my usual charge nurse duties with some of my day work thrown in.  I've always said I like to be busy...but seriously now.

Off work for a few days....Loving it!

So with the Labor Day weekend upon us, it has meant a few days away from the cornucopia of body fluids and plethera of odors that come with work.  My senses are returning to normal; I can smell subtle changes in the air again, food tastes good again, and I can hear my own thoughts rather than the scream of bed alarms and IV pumps.  Alas, this will all end tomorrow when I go back to work, but for today I will enjoy the final hours of my long weekend.  Oh, and the second year of my Master's program starts tomorrow; I had better enjoy today.

Ok, I'm back...school gets in the way of progress

My next term of my MSN program starts on Friday, so I figured I had better get started on a blog I wanted to do since February. So I procrastinate; who's perfect?

Work has been a tumultuous, stressful, endless flow of crap the past few days. Short staffing and heavy patients take a toll after a while. I work with an amazing group of people, so we get by; however, getting by just isn't an acceptable way to be for any length of time.

Several weeks ago, I worked with a patient who had terrible back pain followed by respiratory distress caused by his inability to take deep breaths. He developed partial lung collapse and eventual pneumonia. He passed away today, and I can't help but feel profoundly sad about it. I always feel some sadness when a patient I worked with passes on, but I had connected with him during his distress. I know nurses who have lost that empathy and aren't affected by death anymore. If I ever lose this ability to feel, then I am out of the game for good. This is how I know I am doing the right thing with my life.

I work tonight, so I am off to mentally prepare for the onslaught of body fluids, endless interruptions, and expectations without thanks. All in a days work...