Pages

Saturday, August 27, 2016

New to the NICU

I have been with the same preceptor for several weeks now, but I requested a change so that I would be able to see how the other nurses go about organizing their day and also so I could get some chances to work with the vent babies and see all that I could while I'm still on orientation.

So, I got put with a different nurse on Tuesday, after rocking it with my original preceptor on Monday. Guys, on Tuesday the original lady said she missed me because I was starting to do so well! She also mentioned she missed me because she was having to do actual work that day... Not certain if that tells you anything about preceptor-ship or not but my teachers keep disappearing throughout the days they have me...

Any who, I ran a little bit late on Tuesday, the times that I waited for my lady to come help, but when I got to do what I knew I needed to do, I did just fine! She came and found me finishing up my second assessment (on time, mind you) and she helped me by making milk for the next shift while I charted! She told me she was going to be my assistant for the day and let me try to be the nurse and hey, I did it! We even got in a bath for one kid and put the other one on a nasal cannula instead of a CPAP device. Well, she changed over the CPAP to cannula with a respiratory therapist while I started on the first baby. The vent babies now scare me a little less, and I think I can hopefully start to care for two babies pretty consistently now. I know I kept their beeping down to a minimum because I actually stayed with the kids all day instead of remaining in the nurses station where the beeping gets insanely loud with all the babies going off at the same time.

What have I learned? I learned to do what I need to do without waiting for my preceptor. If they are nowhere to be found and I can start on some kind of task, then I just need to go ahead and do that. I learned this in nursing school too. I avoided my instructors all the day long! and had much easier days than the students who went to the instructor instead of their primary nurses. Hahaha, don't learn from me kids, I just need a lot more independence to learn than many of my friends seemed to choose. Keeping away from my preceptors and instructors ensure for me that they are not meddling in my work. If I know what I need to do, I can take their advice after I'm done (as long as it is safe for me to do so, I ask questions when I'm not sure and scared about hurting somebody, don't get me wrong). However, for routine things not involving needles, IVs, transporting, changing machines, or other safety issues, I do what I know I need to do without waiting for them because I'd still be waiting there for help, and it's been four days.

I've certainly had my days of feeling completely worthless. Even now, I miss a lot of things, but going from a very "on the ball" nurse to one who is great at teaching and letting me fix my own mistakes with no ridicule, I'm glad I asked for a change. Yes, I was just starting to get to the point where I knew my original preceptor and could anticipate all that she wanted me to do. But every once in a while, she would remember something I miss that I never learned and I would get in trouble for not knowing to do it. With my new nurse, I learned about vents, changing from CPAP for a nasal cannula for a baby, and also how to care for micro premies. She is more gracious when I get behind and has a "go-with-the-flow" attitude that reminds me a lot of my mom. She lets me figure out what I missed on my own and while I attempt to be more strict on myself and I try to imitate my original preceptors nursing ability much more closely, I connect and learn better from my preceptor now who lets me try to figure it out on my own and doesn't make me feel bad for missing things.

Search for a Greater Meaning

When I look around, I see a lot of people going about with their daily life. They get a few years down the road, and look around realizing that they spent a good chunk of their life in a haze. They were so busy, so caught up, and so exhausted that they just survived in their day-to-day life.

Meanwhile, I look at dolphins swimming in their little herds (I don't know the fancy name for their groups... school? pack? family? whatever) and they seem so content and engaged in their play. They're just playing! They swim together, swimming with waves and jumping over the waves, and going about their business.

Dogs live to have their people come home (if their people are nice or at least not beating them.) Even still, they remain joyful, excited, loving, engaged, and wholly pure. Even after a dog has been abused it's entire life, there is hope that, with the right person to love on them unconditionally, their broken hearts can be mended. Or there are those strays who wander around small towns making friends with all of the locals and find joy in running their rounds each day and then napping in the shade of a tree.

These creatures are so sure and positive of their life. They are engaged and don't watch time go by. Yet, they seem to know they have a higher purpose. Maybe I'm just reading too much into this and I'm over thinking everything. Actually, there's a good chance that is happening. However, from what I observe, they have a higher purpose in the simple daily life they live. They have found purpose in the hundreds of small things they do in a day.

I told my counselor (a few months ago when I was in counseling) that one of my goals (in a little exercise we did) was to find purpose and meaning for my life. She told me to focus on the "here and now" because I was still in crisis mode. She also mentioned that many times people don't necessarily discover the higher purpose of their life, while here on earth because it's something people have been thinking about and searching for over thousands, millions?, of years.

Still, there is some pull to discover why it is that I'm here. I'm so sick of the day-to-day nonsense of adulthood. The business and technology that takes over each day. The fickle emotions that cause me to ride this awful roller coaster (I'm pretty certain I'm out of my little manic season and headed back down). There's got to be more. More than graduating college, working, finding a nice companion to hopefully not beat me the rest of my days, having children, and finding myself suddenly on my death bed with a whole life full of memories that nobody will get to inherit. Those memories will end with me. There has to be some reason that I was kept alive through the various things that should have killed me.

Perhaps someday some light will be shed on this for me. If not, I guess it's a noble quest to figure it out.

Monday, August 22, 2016

A Little Exciting News

So, in the midst of what feels like a continual life storm at this point... I have a few points of good news!

1) I fixed my dryer yesterday. All by myself! I woke up Friday, trying to throw my scrub pants into the dryer really quick because I had washed them for work. Well, the dryer was sounding like it was working, but it was not tumbling. Great. I proceeded to dry my pants, with a hair dryer, and went to work with wet pants. Have you ever done that? Oh my gosh, wet pants are AWFUL!!!

Oh well, I called my dad on Saturday, told him what was going on and that I thought the belt had broken. He agreed that's what it sounded like. So, I took my dryer apart Sunday in hopes that I would fix it and not make it worse. Turns out the belt had simply slipped off the tension spring instead of breaking completely. Praise the L-rd!

2) I took care of 2 babies successfully, mostly on my own, for two days now! I was really struggling because i had 2 days of feeling like I had just been put through the wringer and criticized for everything even though I had gotten no instruction on how to do things... That was frustrating. Well, whatever. I shook it off and went back for another day. Friday and today (Monday) ended up turning out really well! I know two babies don't sound like much, but I'm finally getting to the point where I forget less and less during my assessments and during the day. I'm beginning to remember the various nuances and strange rules that occur in the NICU. And I am starting to find my newbie groove while simultaneously keeping most poop and urine off of the baby's bedding. Yay! (Guys, I had an incident involving projectile shit in an isolette. Add in a flailing baby and you can just imagine the art work created. While walking away from that baby's room about 30 minutes after the incident, I found a lovely, long, brown streak going down the length of my forearm. *sigh* The struggle.

3) Last, but not least, I PASSED THE NCLEX!!! Do y'all know what that means? That means I am a Real/Registered/Redneck Nurse. In case you missed it, that is three was to define the term of R.N. and they ALL describe me! I'm now a Real Nurse (maybe a baby or adolescent nurse, but I'm a real nurse), I am a Registered Nurse (of course, that's what the hospital and Board of Nursing call me), and I'm also a Redneck Nurse (as described my my nursing class and those who know me best). Guys, I am so very glad and excited to be done!

As you may know, I've been working as a graduate nurse and have been signing my name at work (as necessary) as BedpanAlley, GN. Well, today I got to sign it BedpanAlley, RN! AND I got a new badge changing the GN to RN!!! So, so, so excited and relieved.



Well, seeing as I have to go to work again tomorrow, which means I get up at 0430 (unless I want to smell good which means I need to wake up at 0400...). Anyway, I better hit the hay. As it is, I'll be getting maybe 5 hours of sleep.

Goodnight y'all!
BedpanAlley, RN, BSN

Monday, August 8, 2016

Untitled


Pure Rage

Let's start this post out nicely... I don't want any comments. I love you all, but no comments on this post. Mostly, I probably shouldn't be posting this but 1) I need to vent, 2) I'm trying to be straight with y'all about the struggles of life in case somebody out there in the virtual space of the world feels the same way, I don't want them thinking they are alone, and 3) there is too much rage, moving through my mind too quickly, for me to be able to hand-write the shit I'm feeling in a paper journal so that I can burn it later. Thus, my online outlet which you can choose to read, or not. Completely your choice. THERE WILL BE LOTS OF CURSE WORDS USED THROUGHOUT!!! Are they necessary? Not usually, but every once in awhile it is absolutely required. Right now, just know that this post will be long, and it could be about half the length if I didn't use so much profanity.

*****PROCEED WITH CAUTION*****ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK*****

No. I should be screaming these things from entirety of my being, into a canyon somewhere, where nobody can hear me, where I later collapse into a ball of a shell of a girl who's merely trying to hang on in a world where she doesn't belong living a life she does not understand at all.

Let's also preface this by saying that for the past several days, I'm in one of my moods. Yes, I have several moods that rotate throughout my days. None of them are really actually good. Some have "good" moments, I suppose, but I cannot find the good in my life. Present mood: contemplating the purpose of existence and how my life fits in with the plan of creation. I've been feeling dissociated and in a haze for the last week and a half also. I felt that necessary to point out as well.



Another nursing school buddy got married, I think today. Which, btw, is an odd day to have a legit wedding, seeing as it's Monday. But I digress and continue on with my ridiculously long post about things I've said in the past but am still mulling over in my obviously not healed mind...

Another girl got married. Now, I am happy for her, I truly am. She was a great girl, she's super smart, and she's been with this guy for a long time. She wasn't pressuring him to get married or engaged, and she seems relatively grounded.

I'm upset at the death of my future. I'm upset that my dreams of a future, and what I wanted for dating and marriage didn't even have a fucking shot at happening because two assholes decided that my wishes are not worth honoring. I'm fucking pissed that I didn't get a say. I'm enraged that nobody is fighting for me and that nothing will come of the pain I've been forced to survive. Can G-d handle it? Absolutely. Is He not the one who is in charge of revenge and setting wrongs right? He absolutely is! That's not what I'm saying. I don't even know what I'm saying any more but I know I'm upset.

The hand of tragedy and trauma is dealt randomly, I think. I don't know, maybe it's not. Maybe we are predestined to be forced to live through shitty circumstances that make us want to die on a daily basis, but somehow we're supposed to see how long we last before saying that we've had enough and throwing in the towel. Maybe, somehow, we're paying for the sins we've committed, or the sins that some person in our family tree committed a hundred years in the past. Maybe our suffering is somehow part of some atonement process that doesn't actually atone for anything because our suffering can pay for no sin or mistakes, but we still have to go through that. I DON'T FUCKING KNOW! I do know, however, that even though I sin, I don't know what mistakes justify a person having to live through fucking trauma, rape, incest, domestic abuse, emotional abuse, gas lighting, constant ragging, the death of innocent people who have done nothing wrong, or any other trauma. Most trauma makes no fucking sense. Most of it has no noticeable purpose, no rhyme, no reason, nothing! Nothing! NOTHING!

Why, then, are we still having to live through such things. More importantly, why do some people go through life without ever experiencing trauma, or major life troubles, while others get clobbered around every FUCKING CORNER???!!!!!??? I'm not saying I'm necessarily one of them, but 3 people resulting in more traumas than I can count in a year and a half is a little fucking excessive to me.

I don't know, maybe that's just me. Eventually, I'll get over it. Except not. No. This shit never goes away until the day my heart stops and I get to be done. Perhaps then I will be free from these hellish memories and the pains that stab me in the chest. Hopefully, someday, I will be cut loose of the chains that bring me back to my pits of despair when I think of the beautiful wedding night I wanted, the dreams of being STD/STI free with no doubts in my mind about my status in that area, and I will put to rest my living nightmares that play over and over in my head, constantly. Did I have a choice of having a beautiful wedding night? No. Can I know for certain right now that I am presently STD/STI free? I have no fucking clue and I get panic attacks daily thinking that I may have one and not knowing. Yes, I can go get tested, but I'm still just not ready to drag myself to my death sentence just yet. Will I ever be free from these nightmare memories that run on loops in my brain? Not until the day I die or the day somebody develops an amnesia treatment that only lets you erase certain memories. Honestly, I'm not holding my breath for that treatment, but the end of my days is rapidly approaching, I'm sure.

You know what's hilarious to me, though? (Now, keep with me because that was solid fucking sarcasm). I have watched over 5 stand-up comedians over the past couple of hours that are on Netflix and all of them make jokes about rape and molestation within the first 5-10 minutes. 

Back to being serious, there is absolutely nothing funny about rape, molestation, incest, sexual assault, domestic abuse, beating your wife/husband/girlfriend/boyfriend/child/parent/etc. There is nothing funny about abuse, at all! There's nothing funny about PTSD, war, slavery, or any other things like that. What bugs me the most, is that people who have never fucking lived in my damn shoes is going to make jokes about my life being ruined because the act that cause my life to be ruined is apparently funny to them. It's hilarious to them! The whole crown erupts with laughter when these people make these jokes! It makes my blood boil, it sends me into immediate flashbacks every time, and then I look at how our society deals with such troubling topics and the lack of sentencing and punishments make sense. My life makes less and less sense, but it makes sense that the fucking statistics grows for the events of rape that occur each day because it's all just a joke. 

My suffering is a joke. It's something I have to keep hush hush, because it bums people out. Nobody wants to hear my woes. I'm just regretful of allowing the guys to enter my body, because I let them do it. I must have wanted them to do it. My response to that: NOBODY WANT TO BE FUCKING RAPED!!! NOBODY WANTS THEIR LIFE TO BE RUINED AT THE HANDS OF SOME ASSHOLE WITH A FUCKING PENIS BECAUSE THEY FEEL THEY HAVE A RIGHT TO ENTER MY BODY. NOBODY WANTS CONSTANT WORRIES ABOUT THEIR STD/STI STATUS WHEN THEY HAD WANTED TO REMAIN VIRGIN, OR EVEN IF THEY WERE WILLING TO HAVE SEX AT SOME POINT, THE ONE TIME THAT THEY SAY NO AND THE GUY DOES NOT RESPECT THAT, THERE IS TRAUMA. SOMETHING, IN THAT PICTURE, IS NOT RIGHT.

What's so hard to understand about that? Apparently, it about as difficult as rocket science to understand... for many people who have never experienced rape, sexual assault, abuse, or any of the other many listed things already mentioned, or one of the hundreds of things I never even mentioned because there is too much!!! There's too much.

What has rape cost me? It's cost me: friends, family, sanity, sleep, good dreams, peace, any hope of love, joy, gladness in my adult life, excitement for post-graduation happenings, hope of having children, and my future, among other things.

I'm angry that some people live such beautiful, wonderful, sweet, amazing lives while I'm stuck in this. I'm overwhelmed at the constant waves of shit washing over me. I hate that just when I start to feel like I'm doing better, I get bombarded again with my hellish reality. I hate that I don't feel worthy of a happy life, and I feel guilty even, for what has happened, even though I can rationalize the events as me not being at fault for the actions that took place.

While most girls my age are dreaming of their futures, I'm sitting here wondering what I have done to deserve such shit. I wonder why it is that I'm here, what purpose my life plays in the Grand Scheme of things. Mostly, I'm left feeling overwhelmed at the magnitude of evil rising up around me on every side. I am suffocated by the fears of what a health check would bring. My past haunts me and chases my happiness away. The simple joys of life are completely lost on me, and I'm simply treading water in the middle of the biggest, stormiest ocean in the universe. I find myself praying that 1) I am free of disease and health complications and 2) that my life ends soon and that somehow, somebody remembers me with fondness.

I've been thinking about all the people I've lost in my life. They didn't die, most of them haven't, but they've left me or I've left them for various reasons. If my former friends heard I died, or came across my obituary, would they say I got what I had coming? Would they be glad I was gone because they didn't like me? Would they be sad at how things ended? Would they mourn the loss or get over it quickly by saying "Oh, that's sad. Was it suicide?" Would they come to a funeral, if there was one, or would they visit my grave and visit/yell at me the way I do with Country Boy? Would they remember me for being sweet, kind, and dreaming of a bright future? Or will they recall my bipolar, my grouchiness, and the way in which I made them upset by enforcing boundaries and refusing to take their shit. Would they ask how I died, prying for if my death were self-inflicted? Or would they hope that suddenly, my troubles were gone and I no longer lived with the shame and pain and scars this life has given to me. What would my obituary say? Who would even read it? How could my family even invite anyone to my funeral? Nobody would come except family, and then friends supporting my family. I would have no friends there because there is nobody left.

Does my life even make a difference? For anyone? (All rhetorical questions, you don't need to comment.)?




So what is the point of my sufferings? What is the point of anyone's sufferings? I know I'm not the only in pain over the hand this life has dealt. Of the numerous times I was supposed to die over the course of my life, from the time I was conceived until now, why was I not allowed to just fucking die??? I could have died free of pain. I could have died pure. I could have died and not even experienced the fight of life. Instead, I was kept alive. I keep having to be kept alive. I keep having to fight another day and suffer through.

I know the Good L-rd provides. He provides for my needs, my happiness, my joy, and everything good in this universe and beyond. He gives every good things. I know He gets me through the trauma, He gets me through the night, and He keeps me alive for another day. What I don't know, and what I don't understand, is why the hell I cannot just go ahead and cease breathing so I can be put out of my misery? Why can my heart not just take a permanent break and allow me to slip away? What is the purpose of allowing me to continue to suffer with the after-math of the consequences of sin. Not even just my sin! I'm suffering from the consequences of other people's sins too!!! Shit like this happens every day. Not so good people suffer no issues, while others suffer for personal sins as well as for the sins of the not so good people.



I keep feeling compelled to start working on forgiveness so I can try to move on. I think it's from the L-rd. I want to be ready to do that. I want to be ready to shoulder the pain and move on, but right now, the baggage is too heavy to be able to move away from anger and head towards full forgiveness. I don't know what I'm supposed to do.

I deal with being scared of what problems I have with health and my mental well-being on a daily basis. I fear the future because I see little chance of my story ending well any time soon. I know I'm not supposed to worry about the future, because what will I change by worrying about the future? Nothing. However, a happy, good future will take a billion and five miracles and I feel that's just too excessive for one person to be given in a lifetime. It doesn't matter what I feel I deserve or don't, it's ultimately up to G-d. I have no say. I'm just saying that statistically, the odds are not in my favor and I long for release from my pains and struggles bestowed upon me in this life.

I'm tired. I'm going to bed.

Sunday, July 24, 2016

Looming Deadlines...

It's nearly 11 p.m. here and I'm supposed to be getting up at 5 a.m. for work tomorrow...

I can't sleep because I've been trying to take NCLEX practice tests and start studying because I'm scheduled to take my NCLEX on Friday.

It occurred to me today, while at my "cousin's" kid's 1st birthday party, that I'm taking the NCLEX this week. Then I started thinking about how little I've studied because of work, moving, exhaustion, depression flare-ups, and general PTSD bullshit coming back. C'est la vie, non?

Anyway, I also started considering pushing it back another week or two to give myself some legit time to study. I don't know what to do. Do I just get it over with and hope that the 54% average on practice tests gets me on the passing side of the NCLEX scale? Or, do I try to attempt another shot at studying more?

They say that by passing nursing school, you should have most/all of the info needed to pass this damn test, but being on this end of taking the silly thing, I'm not sure how much I believe that. 54% is a pretty abysmal score to get on anything, let alone a $200 test. I guess I'll see how the rest of the week goes and if I need to, I'll change the date by Wednesday so that I don't lose said $200...

Goodnight y'all

Friday, July 22, 2016

Support Group

Back in Home State, I asked my counselor about getting into a support group. While she was supportive, she told me there were two minor issues with that desire, but that I could do whatever it is that I felt would help. She told me: 1) you may want to wait until you are more stable because it may produce more triggers than you are used to, and 2) there isn't one at this crisis center, but I can help you search for one, if you decide this is something you still want to pursue.

Long story short, I didn't go to a support group in Home State, but I continued on with counseling. I went to counseling for a little over 4 months (3 months of which was 2 times a week). Now, with the help and support of Nurse Dee, and my worsening struggles with the events that put me in counseling to begin with, I have searched for one in Small Town and found one!

I went to support group last night. It was small at first. At 5:45 (when it starts), there were the leader, one other survivor, and myself. Shortly after group started, 2 more ladies came. We talked about boundaries, which is something I had requested my counselor to teach me about several months ago. So, it was mostly just a refresher, but still helpful because those are things that are commonly a struggle and that are good to practice and be reminded of on an ongoing basis.

So, group was good. I plan on going back when I have the chance and don't have to be at work or anything. I hope it goes well. I hope that this is a good group that helps me make connections and brings some peace. Granted, if the only thing it does is get me out of the house, that's a pretty big win anyway.