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Wednesday, April 30, 2014

Last Day of Clinicals

Well, last day of clinicals for this semester. 2 more years equaling 4 more semesters of clinicals to go. No big deal.

However, this post is devoted to the amazing ways in which G-d has worked in my life recently. Today was good. I felt off all day, but I survived!

Today my ex-roommate talked to me. This is a big deal because she disliked me very much. All semester she refused to talk to me. She would give me rude looks or make curt comments behind my back. When I see her in the halls at clinicals or school she would look away, even when I tried to smile at her. Just things that wear on you, ya know? Anyway, after weeks of trying to brush this all off and smile through the pain, she talked to me last night just to say, "see you tomorrow!" I was kinda thrown off guard because I was the only one there so I said it back and went about my work. Then today, we sat and talked a little bit with our instructor. We made quick eye contact during conversation and talked between ourselves. We helped each other with patients today in clinicals and all was well. We are not buddy-buddy and there is still some awkwardness between us, but I am relieved. Weeks of prayer and over thinking eery little thing have resulted in G-d working miracles in my silly little girl drama. Praise the L-rd!

Before ever stepping foot on the floor, I was told many times that the renal floor is awful. My clinical instructor informed us that there were 3 codes in the couple of hours he spent on the unit for orientation. My charge nurse at my CNA job across town told me she worked on the specific floor I was on and she said it was terrible. Anyone and everyone that knew about the renal floor convinced me that it would be a rough/awful experience. So, I prayed that G-d would keep people from coding and dying while we were on the floor. Guess what? Nobody coded or died while we were on the floor. Wow. Now, pts still died and coded, but not on Wednesdays between 0630 and 1530! Praise the L-rd!

There are horror stories about clinical instructors picking apart every little thing on your care plans and failing you for a missed period or a word spelled incorrectly. (Yes, I am aware that most of what I say is an exaggeration. Unless I state that some story is strictly fact, assume that most/all of it has been stretched slightly.) If I had an instructor this strict, I think I would just drop out of nursing school. So, I prayed that the L-rd provide me with a good instructor. When praying in such a general way, one never quite knows what they will get. G-d blessed me with an instructor willing to talk to us about our care plans if it wasn't quite what he was wanting and he was very "chill" with his expectations with us. He emphasized hands-on learning and was always talking us through the whole nursing thought process. With my learning style, his instruction was excellent for me. Praise the L-rd!

G-d let me have fantastic, interesting patients that were very patient and kind. He also allowed me to see how a bunch of nurses work and He allowed them all to help me in different ways, but all valuable. Praise the L-rd!

My first clinical rotation semester was a fantastic experience! Also, summer is in two weeks (after this week comes to a close.) YAY!!!

Sunday, April 27, 2014

Am I going crazy?

I get these cravings to just hear the voice of my mom or my dad on the phone. I would love to run up to them and just be able to talk, but I don't know their schedules and I don't think I really have time for that.

Does anyone else get these "cravings"?

I usually call them with nothing to say. So they talk for a couple minutes, ask why I called, and we agree that they need to go because they're busy and I should probably be finding something to study.

Lately I just keep talking about Country Boy with them. It seemed like my whole world was crashing down around me right after I had heard about him. Last night at church we were informed that an 8th grade boy took his own life earlier this week. I just can't escape this! Y'all, suicide just won't let me out of its grips. I think I'm doing okay and them all of a sudden I crash back down to the pits of remembering what happened just a few weeks ago.

I keep talking to my mom about the fact that everything still reminds me of him. I'm scared that she is getting sick of listening to me retelling the same silly stories over and over again. I try not to talk about it with her, or my family, or my friends because I'm sure they will get burnt out and just avoid me for awhile.

Why can't I move on?

When things start to go bad, I start focusing on the other things in my life that are not what I want. I wanted the NICU job and may have been able to have it if I had gone with the classes that I originally wanted and ended up having to sign up for. 3 days of classes a week instead of 5. I could have gotten the job. My relationship with Best Friend didn't work out and I'm wondering how I will ever be able to have a boyfriend or have a husband because I am a runner. If things get too deep, I run. I see the worst possible outcome and find all sorts of ways to "fix" it which usually ends up with me flying solo and skippin' town. My brother is moving out and the only prospective roommate I had can't afford it and so now I don't know if I will be able to find a place to live or someone to live with in the next couple of months before my lease ends.

I just feel so lonely.

I went to church yesterday and that seemed to remind me that my prayers cannot simply be a laundry list of requests for G-d. I miss His voice. My life went from being okay for a couple of months to me crashing and burning in a split second.

I'm just wondering what G-d has in store for me next. What is it that I'm supposed to be doing? Is there something I'm missing?

Friday, April 25, 2014

"Just" a ___________

Guys, remember that rant I went on about people calling nurses "just" a nurse or CNA's "just" a CNA? I got caught calling myself "just" a nursing student the other day at clinicals.

It all started with a pt's family member coming to the nurses' station asking for a snack for the pt or something. I can't remember. Anyway, we talked for a few minutes because I was the only person there and I was just charting. After the conversation was done, he looked at me with a frown on his face and said, "So, I know techs (CNA's) are in bright blue, nurses are in dark blue or white, and everyone else has a special color. What does white with blue sweaters mean?"

"Well," I started, "The dark blue scrubs are for the real nurses and all of us in white are just students. Students also have the choice of wearing a blue sweater if they want one."

He looked at me for a second, not quite satisfied with my answer. Then he replied, "You aren't just a student. You worked really hard to get to this point and a lot of people never make it as far as you have already gotten."

I was speechless. Never have I been so encouraged and humbled simultaneously. I understand that nurses are super great. I get that. Why do you think I want to be a nurse? But I never really realized how weighted the title of nurse is. People hold nurses in such high regards. Over the past few months, I have been seeing the little memes on Pinterest about how hard nursing is and how amazing nurses think they are. They are pretty amazing, don't get me wrong. It just seems to me that people in my nursing class-I don't know about anywhere else-are getting big heads. Their egos are quickly swelling and they talk about other majors and other professions as being less than being a nurse. They (and my professors) also seem to be quite against most doctors... but that's another story.

Guys, nurses are fantastic. They do a lot of necessary and extra special things to make sure that their patients can be as healthy as possible. However, every job that anyone has in society holds a special place in our intricately woven country.

So, while I say not to call yourself "just" a nurse or CNA. I am also very passionate about nobody calling yourself "just" an anything. You are hand-made by THE Creator of the Universe. You may not know why you are here, but you are here for a reason. You are not just some person, a bag of bones, or a random life. No. You were "knitted together in your mother's womb," you are cherished, watched after, and valuable. Don't forget it.

Flat Tire Services

New announcement y'all: BedpanAlley is starting a tire changing business!!!

It turns out that I am super great at changing flat tires. I've done it TWICE this week alone! What is up with all my friends getting flat tires? I love changing them and I really love being the one that is called in cases of "emergency" regardless of how bad it may actually be but dang. Are people dropping mass amounts of nails out of the backs of semi's? Are there tack strips being laid out? What's the deal?

Anyway, I feel super cool that I know how to do it and guys stop by to ask if I need help but I get to tell them I've got it. I'm sort of a feminist if you haven't caught that yet, so being able to be independent in every possible way is important to me. Well, if they were my age then I may just let them take over, but they're usually my dad's age.

Service list with prices to come soon...

Monday, April 21, 2014

Applause!

I am terrible with technology yet I work in IT...

Normally on Mondays I have stories of how terrible I did at my IT job because I always seem to make a fool of myself on Mondays. Why? I don't know. Today, however, I actually did well! I got a call from a classroom that I get frequent calls from for a simple problem that I have explained how to solve multiple times. Anyway, I got TWO calls from that room today because I solved the problem and then it came back up. Whatever, I went back to the room to fix the problem. After doing all that I could, it still wouldn't work. The professor and students were asking if there was another room they could use since the computer was not working. I said I had a computer I could bring in, in the worst case scenario but I wanted to try one of their laptops first. Their laptop worked as a bandaid and the whole class broke out into applause! I have been in classes where we applaud the IT tech for fixing the solution but I am terrible with computers and never expected to be on the receiving end. I didn't even fully fix the problem!!! Needless to say, it pretty much made my day.

After work and school I went to the grocery store and the guy at the deli remembered my order! He helps me nearly every week so I'm sure it was bound to happen but it made me feel special.

So, after the near break down during the death and dying lectures, I had a fantastic day. Praise the L-rd for little breaks of sunshine in our gloomy seasons.

Death, Dying, and Suicide Part II

I thought the death and dying talks were done at school. Turns out they are just beginning. Today we got to listen to two guest speakers who talked to us about palliative care and death.

I was doing great for the first hour and a half when discussing palliative care and hospice and even the signs/symptoms of impending death. Then the other guy got up to speak...

I was fighting back tears for a solid hour because he kept talking about different grief process models and such. He told stories about all sorts of different people. Then he talked about a 19 year-old guys suicide... Wow, worst time to hear that story for me! It was a story about how his sister was sitting next to his body in the ER when the chaplain (the guy) and the nurse walked in. The sister asked if he would go to heaven. The chaplain and nurse didn't answer, they asked what the sister thought would happen to him. She said she hoped not because he had been sexually abusing her since she was a little tiny kid. Yikes.

It just seemed like I was getting over all of these feelings. Just when I think I'm in the clear, though, everything is brought right back up.

Anyway, I kept my tears to myself and did not let a single one drop. Now, this coping/ineffective coping strategy is a personal thing. If y'all can cry in front of people, go for it! That's great. If you can't, then don't. Whatever works for you, do that. As for me, I was raised in a family where you don't cry in front of others. My mom is an exception, but I still fight crying in front of her. I have also cried to my dad, but I fight that as best as I can too. That was just our culture. Your culture is likely different and is very important. So, go with what makes sense for you and what helps you through whatever it is that you are facing.

Sunday, April 20, 2014

NICU Job

A couple weeks ago I had an interview for a CNA position in the NICU at one of our local hospitals. I told y'all that I didn't get the job as evidence by an email I received just after I found out about Country Boy's passing... That was a struggle.

Monday morning, I was fixin' to call them back to see if they had any advice for how I could improve my interviewing skills. I was certain that I had bombed the interview because they went from all smiles and nice tones to more of a interrogation-like mode. Super freaky, let me tell you. It all happened once they started asking about my schedule and how long a semester is and stuff like that.

So, I left the interview feeling defeated. Monday, while I was at my IT job, I get a voicemail. My phone didn't ring all day, but then there was a voicemail message. It was the assistant manager of the NICU calling me back asking to speak to me about how the interview went...

Do I need to mention my light headedness, heart palpitations, sweaty palms, shakiness, and all around feeling of impending doom? When I called her back she was so sweet but straight to the point. She told me that it was a hard decision between me and another person but went with the other girl due to scheduling. HOWEVER, she mentioned that I did well in the interview and hopes that she has a position opening up in the summer and she asked if she could call me in case that happens! She then proceeded to tell me that she loved my enthusiasm and the hospital is fixin' to start a training program for new grads wanting to work in the NICU and she thought I would be a fantastic candidate if I still want to be in the NICU upon graduation.

I was speechless. I had been so upset all week and weekend after finding out about Country Boy, me not getting the job, breaking up with Best Friend, and the million other things in my life that just had me drowning in emotional crisis and self pity. I'm sure y'all know that I do not handle emotional troubles well. So, I had been angry at G-d for several days for not letting me save Country Boy, then for not letting me get my "dream job," and then for all the other silly things I recognized as being not good in my life. Even with all that, G-d was working in ways that I could not see. When I thought my world was falling apart, He was orchestrating everything perfectly. Whether I get the NICU job or not, He allows me to find favor with Him and with the people I come into contact with.

I was telling a guy at my IT job that I had an interview with the NICU the other day. He didn't know what that was so I explained that it was the ICU for itty bitty babies. He then proceeded to ask if I was baby crazy. Ummmmmm, not in the way that most girls my age are. I am definately not ready to have one of my own. I am perfectly fine taking care of them for awhile and then going home to a house full of quiet. Ya, I'd like offspring of my own someday, but that'll have to wait on G-d's timing.

The same guys also asked if I was engaged. Oh man, I can't even hold down a relationship based on friendship, how on earth can I handle an engagement? Well, it's not his fault, I wear my purity ring on my left hand ring finger. I also wear my old purity ring on my right middle finger because I lost a bunch of weight and so I had to shuffle my rings around so they would fit. Needless to say, we had a beautiful awkward silence totally brought on by him. That is rare because I didn't cause it!!!

Well, let's finish this school year strong. Only about a month left and I am ready for summer. I can't be the only one to be overdue for a summer vacation, right? Check out my Pinterest to see what I have planned for the summer and there is more to come. I need some sleep. Good night, folks.

Wednesday, April 16, 2014

Developmental Stages

So, in developmental psych, we have taken a turn and our last class seemed more like an A&P lesson than a psych lesson. Despite my confusion at that matter, we are studying something that interests me a lot. We are discussing and learning about the different developmental stages in pubescence.

You know the ones (probably), right? They were super awkward to talk about but they were likely covered in sex ed in elementary/middles school. I woudn't know, my parents didn't allow me to go to sex ed. Instead, I got to chill with the librarians in the print shop. The entire grade (all 4 classes) knew I was the ONLY kid not in that class. But, hey, I didn't like those kids anyway. You know, it makes me laugh that my parents kept me from sex ed, but at this point in my life I have seen more penises, butts, and other actual unmentionable things than I ever would have guessed. I'm a straight up virgin (I was even a dating virgin until I made the idiot choice to ruin my friendship with Best Friend). Regardless, nursing school stole my innocence and yet I'm still innocent. I know all about sex. Well, the anatomy, physiology, hormone, and other simple scientific/medical stuff. I've probably handled more guy's junk than culturally acceptable. I have grown far beyond my years because I have been put in positions of care giving for people who are elders and I'm only 20. Never would I have guessed that this would be where I ended up at this point in my life. I never realized you see so many people naked in nursing. It just doesn't even phase me anymore. Granted, I probably would if it was a friend or my new husband, but perfect strangers could run around in their birthday suits all the day long and I would be fine. Me, on the other hand, refuse to show any more skin than my hands, neck, and most of my face. I'm a hypocrite, what can I say?

I'm getting off subject. The whole development, "puberty" thing has always fascinated me. Can I admit something to y'all? I'm also obsessed with sex but from a purely medical curiosity. Truly, I'm not just saying that. It is fascinating that G-d designed all of this stuff to happen to our bodies so that eventually, two people can produce 1+ more other people (depending on participation, circumstances, etc). He made chemicals to attract us to each other and more chemicals to make us feel "love." He created women to house the offspring until they were hopefully developed enough to breath independently and survive as their own little being. That's only the beginning! There is so much more to all of this stuff and it all begins with hormones fueling the growth of gonads and such. I mean, this stuff is so intricate and amazing! These are the types of things that take my breath away. For some people, it's mountains, sunrises/sunsets, the ocean, outer space, or what-have-you. Personally, it is the intricate nature in which we were designed to carry on life and produce more life.

Wow.

That brings me to a weird point: According to my book's chart of when certain parts and pieces of us are supposed to develop, breast development should be completed around age 16 (on average.) Read this over and let me know what you think of their findings. Now, everything is based off of average and there are always exceptions. However, these time frames just seem odd to me.
Full breast growth at age 16!? Is that what most people have found? Menarche at 12.5? Yikes. I didn't have this childhood...

Death, Dying, and Suicide

Today has been a really weird day. It is my clinicals day, so I was at the hospital just going through my routine...

0600 arrive at hospital
0645 stand-up
0700 vitals
0800 assessment on assigned pt, help nurse with her other vitals
0900 med pass, get pt breakfast

You get the idea. I was just going along, minding my own business.

Then, out of nowhere, Country Boy comes and sits down to start charting at the computer next to me! But wait, he's dead. After a double/triple/quadruple check, I noticed it was a doctor that looked just like him! Down to the facial hair, height, and his voice sounded a lot like him too. Not to mention that the way he walked and his personality were so much like CB it was insane.

Needless to say, I nearly had a freakin' heart attack. No joke. My heart was doing all sorts of weird rhythms, I got faint (even though I was already sitting down), I got flushed, nauseous, my ears started ringing, my eyesight went kinda tunnel vision-y, and then all the emotions from when I was first coping all came rushing back. It felt like a train just smashed into me head-on. I nearly lost it and could have started crying if I hadn't been conditioned to not cry in front of others.

Y'all, I thought I was doing well. I go to sleep thinking about him still. I wake up still thinking about him. Throughout the day things randomly remind me of him, so I start remembering him that way too. Still, I haven't been as bad as I was the first few days. After being able to knock myself out with a Tylenol PM and sleep my weekend away, I was beginning to focus on my pain and anger less. I thought that meant I was coping better with the whole situation. Turns out, I was just too busy with school and being embarrassed about my awkwardness with my IT boss to remember how badly this hurts. I got a rude wake-up call today with that doctor/Country Boy impersonator.

1030 a pt goes down for proceedure
1100 more meds
1115 primary starts blood transfusion and has to stay with pt for 15 minutes while I run around watching her rooms because we have 1 CNA for the entire floor (poor lady!)
1215 pt comes back from procedure and I help transfer her from gurney to bed
1245 I finally leave that pt's room to answer call lights and IV alarms going off (they just got brand new IV pumps that nobody knows how to work and they ALL insist on making as much noise as possible all at the same time
1345 I finally get a break and look at my phone... oops

So, I buried my head in my work and my nurse's work all day. I was so busy that I couldn't go to lunch with the rest of my clinical group at 1130 and my professor got upset with me. Well, that's what I've heard from several sources who also sent me multiple texts while they were with her. My phone was in my pocket and I was trying to figure out how to juggle the 8233479085847526458787 things that were all requiring my attention at the precise moment I needed to go to lunch. 2 hours later I finally got a break, checked my phone and... oh man, a billion texts and a missed phone call. Maybe I should have just ditched my primary RN and gone to lunch?

I took a lunch. I sat down, rested, had my food, and drank a bunch of water. It's not like I'm going to pass out from not eating and I'm not going to work too hard somewhere where I am essentially free labor so that I don't get any breaks and cannot get away to pee. My time for that will come when I can write my name with RN following and I have that nice paycheck and all the responsibility to complete all the patient tasks on my own. Why does my professor think I won't take care of myself? I don't even talk during lunch and it's almost harder for me to go to lunch because one of my old roommates (the one that REALLY didn't like me) and I just get nasty comments and dirty looks. That's no way to spend a lunch break. It gives me stress ulcers and heart palpitations just thinking about that torture.

For those future nursing students out there, that is what clinicals sort of looks like. Keep in mind that it was just a full moon a couple of days ago so there were behaviors today and a lot of extra work that has not been present any of the other 3 days that I've had clinicals so far. But, now you might be able to get a better picture of what you do at clinicals.



I just remembered why I titled this post as I did. The subject of suicide, death, and dying keeps coming up today and for the past week since I found out about CB taking his own life. Today, in particular, we talked about it in our clinical post-conference. I am reading about suicide in my developmental psych study guide. And I was again confronted with my mourning for CB. All of this, in addition to my already ridiculously stressful week, has just pushed me under. Guys, it's only Wednesday!

Monday, April 14, 2014

Chronicles of a Terribly Awkward Girl

Does anyone else suffer from foot-in-mouth disease? It's a chronic condition that I have developed and I have many, many acute exacerbations. If only there was a treatment for it... medication... a padded room... a handler... complete solitude... SOMETHING!

Let's just start with today's incident.

At 0700 I arrive at my nursing school in order to finish my 10 page paper and print off a few articles before class at 0830. The way that my university is set up, the nursing school is set way at the edge of campus, away from the rest of the normal class buildings. Why? I don't know. We should be close to the cute mechanical engineering guys. That's a story for another day though.

My paper got turned in and class went fine. After class, I get a short break for lunch and then I go to my IT job. Upon walking into my IT job desk, I start up a conversation with the gentleman that worked the shift before mine. I mentioned that there is a student IT down in the nursing school computer lab that was not there before. A few more things are said and just as my IT boss (the real boss) walked in I ask, "how can I get that job." A chuckle behind me that can only come from him brings on an extreme heat in my face and I'm sure I turned bright red. He explained that they aren't really IT advisers. Instead, they are employed by the nursing school department. He mentioned that the job is probably easier and the student adviser down there doesn't stay there for the whole time that the computer lab is open, yada, yada, yada. After his whole explanation (said all while slightly giggling to himself) of the job, he just looked at me with a smile on his face. More heat and more red on me. Stupid blood vessel dilation in response to embarrassment. They say blushing is supposed to be an endearing trait because it suggests that the person is honest and innocent.

Let's just talk about this for a second. I am in no mood to be messed with, belittled, or otherwise made uncomfortable. There is very little that I can handle in addition to the other tragedies that have occured in the two weeks since I've turned 20. I told y'all bad things happen on birthdays. Unfortunately, my birthdays have gone from specialty of the day being forgotten about when I was in elementary school, to being called into the principal's office (middle school), and now to a friend committing suicide (college). There were other scarring events mixed throughout, but these gems are the special few examples I can share today.

Yes, this whole foot-in-mouth awkwardness was brought on by me. One precipitating factor of this condition is having a big, fat pie-hole. It is ever present and always in overdrive for me. This is so beyond frustrating. No matter how many conversations I have with my IT boss, or how much I try to avoid talking, I always end up saying stupid things around him. Sometimes it is because I don't know what I am doing because I had no training for this job. Occasionally it is because words escape me on most days and so I cannot describe what I need to have happen with the computer or whatever is happening at that particular point. On most other occasions, it is just because I say stupid things at an above average rate for someone of my age, stature, and developmental stage.

So, for now, I have to figure out a way to get out of my head and keep my sanity for the next few weeks until school is done. Maybe then I can focus on grieving for my dead friend and perhaps get some much needed rest. I haven't had a full-on summer break without any schooling for about 1.75 years and I am extremely overdue.

Does anyone else feel any little bit of my pain? No, just me? That's cool. If y'all find a nice little rock for me to climb under, give me the coordinates because I am so over this season of my life. IT'S ONLY BEEN 2 STINKIN' WEEKS SINCE I TURNED 20!!!

Saturday, April 12, 2014

Stages of Loss and Grief: Anger

Over the past couple of days, I go through most of the stages in a cycle of about 15-25 minutes. I could almost set my watch to it.

Yesterday was Country Boy's birthday. For the past few days I've been checking my phone like crazy waiting for his text. This isn't new. Checking my phone and waiting for his text is something I've been trying to break the habit of for about 9 months. I couldn't ever kick it, not even now that I know that it will never come again.

I expected his birthday to be harder. I also expected to be able to tell my friends and talk through some of it with them. In the end, the day was a gorgeous spring day that I wished I could spend with him. My friends and I had a test that they left right after and I never got to talk about it with them. I told another girl who didn't know my background with him, but it lifted a little weight to be able to tell a peer instead of just my parents knowing about it. In these last two days, I have had probably 4-5 phone calls with my parents consisting mostly of telling them how much I wish he hadn't done it and then crying on the phone while my parents just sit there and try to console me.

I got angry yesterday. That's why I started this post, but I had forgotten with the course of my thought cycle. I got mad that he killed himself. I got angry that he never gave me a chance to talk him through it. I never got to tell him my story of near suicide attempts.

Then I got an email. I had applied and interviewed for a NICU CNA position. They decided to go with someone else. I totally understand that that person likely would be able to fill the hours they needed, and she probably fit their staffing culture better. But I got angry with myself for bombing the interview. I went on this whole thing about hoping to learn as much as I could and they kept circling back to how CNA's main focus is stocking and taking phone calls. I told them about how I was scared that my schedule might not fit in with theirs because I could only work Sundays and they saw that as I wouldn't be able to help out. I told them I wanted them to know that I would be able to work the 1 day a week they required during the school semester, but I don't think they fully understood what I was saying. Naturally, I then got angry at myself for that whole mess because I am pretty sure that they would never give me another chance to interview and their posting only come up maybe once a year for the NICU CNA position.

I also got angry at myself for going out with Best Friend. If I wouldn't have done that, then Country Boy would have come bowling with us 2 weeks prior to his death. Maybe he would have seen that he has friends. Or, I would have potentially gone to hang out with him when he offered. I would have been able to talk to him those 6 weeks when Best Friend and I were going out instead of blocking him to prevent BF from getting jealous that his girlfriend was texting another dude that she may/may not have had a thing for. Country Boy was so much more similar to me than BF was and BF admitted that he was hugely jealous. Maybe he and I could have spent Spring Break together and done something when we had a day off together. Maybe I wouldn't feel so guilty and terribly lonely that I have neither Best Friend nor Country Boy right now because I went against G-d's will and what He had told me to do years ago. I know G-d doesn't do the guilt killing thing like what happened here, but the timing of everything has got my brain going wild. I can't seem to shut it off anymore.

At that point, I gave up being productive, grabbed my blanket and water bottle and bunkered down on the couch. I took a couple of Tylenol PM and fell asleep at 1600 (4 p.m.) and didn't wake up until 0700 the next day (today). I promise I won't go down the pills road again, I remember how much that messed me up and how close I was to suicide. Being on the other end of a suicide, I don't ever want to do that to anyone EVER. I just don't know how I'm supposed to go on functioning normally seeing as I have papers and tests and life happening but I can't stop thinking about my Country Boy. I had such big plans for us this summer and next fall he was going to take me hunting. He would have been 20 yesterday and I wanted to tell him how much I already didn't like this year. Now it's turned from minor irritation at no longer being a teen to a majorly tragic year. I'm only 2 weeks in...

Wednesday, April 9, 2014

The Passing of a Friend

Do y'all remember Country Boy? He comes up quite frequently in my posts because he confuses me. He gets me all sorts of excited for his attention but bugs me at the same time because I crave his attention.

Well, turns out he passed away about two weeks ago.

I'm in shock.

I don't know what to do. This is the first time I can remember a friend dying. I keep going through anger, sadness, questioning, doubt that this really happened, then I'm jolted back to believing that this is reality and not some movie that I can stop and rewind. I feel a lot of guilt. Guilt because I could have texted him. I've been thinking about him for about a month now which usually means that he is about to text me. I fought with the idea of texting him first, but I decided it was a bad idea. Then I start playing the what-if game. What if I had texted him way back a couple of weeks ago when I had wanted to to see how he was? What if I had actually gone to hang out with him the couple of times he invited me somewhere, especially the last time that was about 2-4 weeks ago? What if I had been sending him snap chats when I learned that he had added me on it? What if I had not just said "no thanks" the last time he asked me out and instead said "I'm sorry but I just got a boyfriend and he's a little jealous" or "I think I'm just going to stay in this weekend, but maybe we could go shooting some time"? What if, what if, what if...

He was supposed to turn 20 this Friday. I had been waiting to text him until his birthday. It was taking all I could muster to wait until then. 

I suspected he had depression. I figured that's why he had a tendency to talk to a lot of girls and why he seemed to always have a girlfriend. See, his dad died last year a little after Valentine's Day. He really loved his dad and the father's death happened really unexpectedly due to a heart attack or something. It was a traumatic way to see his dad die because by the time the ambulance arrived at their house, nothing could be done. He talked about how his best friend and his sister were dating and then broke up. When that happened he lost his best friend (they used to see each other every day) and he said he didn't have any other real friends. He had gotten into a car wreck a few months back and had some really bad pain from that. He told me about how he had gotten into marijuana back in high school and how he had gotten into trouble for doing other stuff and all of this lead him to getting kicked out of high school. He then went to a high school program for troubled teens that allowed them to finish their high school career while also doing college work. He ended up graduating high school and getting an Associate's degree at the same time. He had recently started a new job that he liked significantly more than his previous one at a retail store and he was going back to school to get more certifications and maybe even a degree in mechanical engineering. He turned his life around and he seemed to be doing great.

After he told me a little about his past, I told him I thought it was great that he was so young and yet had gotten so much done. He brushed it off out of either humility or disbelief that he was actually being genuinely complimented on his accomplishments. I have a feeling it was the latter.

He had offered to take me hunting this fall. I had gotten really excited and almost went right out and bought head-to-toe camo. He had said I was gorgeous. He wanted to hang out with me and had asked me out but agreed to be just friends for awhile. We talked about needles and sterile fields and he ribbed me about how I thought learning sterile field was cool in college but he had learned it in high school. We almost took an EMT class together because we both thought it would be amazing to be EMT's. He told me he thought I was smart and funny and, did I mention, gorgeous? That was after he met me for the first time and I was a wreck because I had just gotten off of work and he was helping us get back into my friend's house after the whole evacuation ordeal.

I've been informed that his death was likely self-inflicted.

I could have helped. I could have texted or talked to him on Facebook or Snap Chatted him. He could have texted me! I would have driven right to him and talked him through his troubles. He could have called! I would have prayed with him and talked him through the struggles. He could have reached out. I could have shared my story of near suicides and my season of severe depression. I could have let him know that there is help and people can listen to him so that he doesn't have to bear the weight of life alone.

How do I process this? How do I not go over the past month repeatedly until it is fixed and he is back with us and this is all just a bad dream that I will wake up from? How do I keep myself from being eaten alive by the guilt and the what-if's? How do I handle the first death of a friend? Not just any death, but a suicide? How do I not blame myself for not talking to him when I thought of him? What am I supposed to do?

Tuesday, April 8, 2014

Don't go down that road...

Going into college, I did not drink coffee regularly. It used to give me heart palpitations, even in the smallest amounts. Even if I ate too much chocolate, I would start getting funky heart feelings that are highly unpleasant.

Last week began my slow decent into what will likely end in a caffeine addiction. It's surprising that with my crazy schedule, it has taken me this long to come around to drinking coffee, so I suppose that's good. But man, clinicals are getting rougher. We start getting two patients soon which means... drumroll please... TWO careplans. There will be one long and one short. Regardless, it has been taking me until 0100-0200 to finish just a long one so I'm not certain how I will get an additional one and still get sleep before having to get up at 0430. Praise the L-rd there are only 4 weeks left of this for this semester!

My plans have been growing and growing for this summer. I have two trips planned already and both of them involve spending at least a week at a time with my Mema. In talking with her to make plans for these vacations, we started talking about nursing. She is a recently retired NICU nurse who is so very excited that I am following in her footsteps. Funny thing is, I wanted to be a nurse before I realized that is what she did. I also wanted to work with babies. Naturally, when I found out about the NICU, I was drawn to the idea of helping these sweet little infants. As we were discussing this, she informed me that her great-grandma was a doctor, midwife, and something else that I can't remember right now. But this lady saved almost all of the children in the town she lived in from a disease outbreak that was killing most children in the surrounding towns. Ever since her, most women in our family become nurses or have something to do with the medical field. Even the women that marry into the family tend to be nurses. I didn't find that little gem out until I went to our family reunion two summers ago. Most of the guys tend to be mechanics or some type of engineer (typically mechanical engineers.) This pattern is intriguing to me, but I suppose it makes sense because most guys marry ladies like their moms and girls marry guys like their dads. Still, it's an interesting pattern that I wish I knew how to further investigate.

Well, I'm heading off to work. Y'all have a great day and I'll let you know how clinicals go with two patients and TWO careplans.

Wednesday, April 2, 2014

Mom: My Matchmaker

Do any of you have moms, dads, family members, or friends who are always trying to set you up with someone?

I'm reminded of Gru in Despicable Me 2 because that blonde lady is constantly finding him ladies to date. She and the ladies she sets him up with are certifiably insane. They are just a bit cooky. Granted, it's a children's cartoon movie. However, people really do act like that...

Anywho, my mom knows how I despise being told that I need some boy so that I can be happy. She gets it. She is actually where I get my feminist streak from and I'm even a bit more feminist than she ever was. My immediate family (including mom) all understands and agrees that setting people up to date or get married is risky business because it can end very, very badly. When that happens, liability defaults to you because you introduced them and essentially screwed up their lives.

Today on the phone, my mom was consoling me about clinicals, my brother yelling at me, me seeing a deer get hit by a car, and the millions of other nonsensical things that are floating around in my noggin on a daily basis. During this point of assisting me to sort out life she began talking about her life, work, etc to try to distract me because tears were pouring and my voice went up about 7 octaves. We started talking about some family friends that she met at a bakery that they own. She began with the phrase, "Now, I'm not trying to set you up but..."

YOU NEVER START A CONVERSATION LIKE THIS.          EVER!!!

Got it? Good.

She continued on about how one of the sons is a lot like me. She said we both like the country, the mountains, shooting, fishing, camping, hunting (I have yet to go but think I would like to try it at least once), road trips, and a bunch of other stuff. He is described as being someone who is very dedicated to becoming an engineer. He is kind, a very hard worker, sweet, a good protector, and a plethora of other adjectives. I have met him. I agree that he is so very kind, sweet, dedicated, etc, etc, etc. Everything about him seems great and his family is amazing. Plus, he understands cars, restores old Volkswagens, and I think he is a Believer (though not likely Messianic). He sounds amazing and I bet he is a great friend.

The whole conversation, though, caught me off guard. I was telling her about the after shocks of my break up, and she pops this little bundle of anxiety into my lap without a second thought.

She knows how crazy I am because I share the most of my mental processes with her and yet she still proposes this kid as... a friend? potential suitor? something else?

I have no idea what possessed her to bring that up. She has never done anything like that in the past and she typically doesn't think like that anyway. It actually made me feel like a family shunned spinster because her tone made the conversation sound like it was an intervention to get me in a relationship before my biological clock runs out of time. Actually, it's making my head spin just a little bit thinking about it. I already broke Best Friend. How on earth am I ever supposed to start another relationship. Honestly, I don't like the whole dating thing and I'm certain I didn't even do it right the first time because it was really just a differently labeled friendship. Regardless, it has made me consider swearing off guys almost indefinitely. I was nearly nun status. Problem is: I am lonely, I would like offspring, and it would be super if I could find someone (preferably a guy close to my own age who isn't afraid to tell me to "suck it up" if I start to get a bit scare) to take me hunting that I feel safe with. Country Boy offered to take me but he's got a cabin and I've been told he does naughty stuff with girls.

For now, I am asking for strength and contentment in my single state. I didn't want a dating record at all, and now I have one. Regardless, I would like to avoid adding unnecessary names to that list because I break them and they break me and dating is really stupid, overrated, and has high stakes with no way of knowing what will happen.

Even I Forgot!

I'm 20 today. It's that odd year in between legally being able to drown your troubles in ETOH (alcohol) and your teenage years. This is going to be a struggle.

During clinicals today, I kept forgetting that it was my birthday until a family member would text me here, or I would get a Facebook message there. I was successful in keeping it a secret from all but my family and Best Friend. Yes, even he texted me Happy Birthday. How sweet is that?! G-d sure blessed me with an amazing ex even though I don't think I deserve someone being so kind as he is after I agreed to and then took back my proposal to "try this" (aka, begin going out.)

Maybe I forgot because I was up until 0200 finishing my care plan for today. Perhaps I forgot because I then woke up at 0430 to prepare for clinicals. Then I was rushed all day. I didn't remember again until one of my patients told me it was his birthday today too. He reminded me of my dad... I have got to stop relating my pt's to my family and friends because it makes the care so much harder. I love my dad. In fact, I'm a daddy's girl. However, the last pt I had that reminded me of him passed away unexpectedly. My heart broke and I grew a scar. Then the two ladies that reminded me of my Mema passed unexpectedly and that probably could have been avoided. Again, my heart ripped right in two, and then crumbled into a million little pieces. I picked up what I could, slapped it together with some glue and now my heart is more of a sagging, scarred, mangled mess of flesh more than anything else. I can't even find it some days because I give it to G-d, then foolishly take it back and proceed to lose it. He finds it and I make the same mistakes to repeat the vicious cycle again.

Today was so busy I just don't even know where to start. I got to D/C (discontinue) a foley! That was super exciting because I have only inserted/taken catheters out of manikins and they don't behave like real people and I feel so silly talking to them because I know they are a doll and they cannot respond. I despise make-believe games because I don't understand them and I can hardly think for myself let alone having to create whole other people/situations/conversations/etc for another person or people.

Also, in lab it took about 10 minutes to D/C a catheter. Well, not really, but it seemed like it would take a long time when going through the whole process. I did it in about a minute and I'm sure the nurse could have done it in about 4 seconds. You just deflate the balloon and pull out the tubing while coiling it around your hands so that it doesn't whip out and share the special surprises that are inevitably waiting at the end with everyone present.

I also got to give meds for the first time. That was actually more nerve wracking that the foley thing because they stress the importance of the 6 rights, double and triple checking your meds, and the dangers of getting into too much of a pattern. In lab, that skill took us about 30 minutes to pull approximately 15 meds from one med cart at the bedside, check them the 84720583 times that you have to check them, put them in a cup, and assist your patient with the administration of the meds. In real life, it took me maybe 5 minutes total to pull 8 meds from the med room down the hall from the pt, verify them, and assist the pt with taking them. I felt like I was doing it wrong all day. Thank the L-rd I got to give meds 3 separate times so I got lots of practice. But dang! All day I felt like I was doing everything wrong from passing meds, to helping the pt, to my assessment, to walking down the hall. At one point I questioned my heart's ability to pump simply because it is inside of me, the screw-up.

I survived. It was nuts. Even still, I am more comfortable learning how to be a nurse than I have ever been anywhere where I knew what I was doing. This profession makes me make sense. I'm super cheesy today. You're welcome.