Recap

It's been awhile since I've posted, I noticed that today... Sorry about that everyone.

Let's recap over the past several days that I have not been writing about my "facinating" life:

• I nearly quit after being made fun of and ignored for an entire night at work. Labs were taken down, except for mine... My CBC coagulated and had to be redrawn by day shift because I played RT, and nobody took down my labs even though one nurse took down everyone else's and showed back up to the unit as I was headed down for my measly 3 labs... I attempted to help keep a child from dying and was made fun of TO. MY. FACE. by a nurse who is consistently hateful to all of us new girls and various people around the hospital, as well as an RT who most everyone has a hard time with, seeing as the nights that he is on, we are our own RT's... You can see my shock when I was mocked for turning up oxygen, suctioning, and attempting to straighten the tubing on a vent kid that was desating to the 60's before grabbing her nurse. It was an awful shift. I went home and broke down before sleeping and losing it with my new nurse friends.
• Work was redeemed the next shift I had because I got not one, but THREE compliment cards and a backpack! The week before I had gotten a coffee cup for being "flexible" and willing to come in on my day off from a last-minute call, for a shift I never signed up for.
• I worked Thanksgiving, which turned out going really well. Mom came down from Home State and it was so wonderful having her here! She cleaned my kitchen while I was at work. I had tried my hardest to have my house clean by the time she got here, but it simply didn't happen. My Mema housed My dad's two brothers and their families for Thanksgiving. So I got to visit with much of my family and it was absolutely wonderful! I didn't spend as much time with them as I had wanted to, but I was working most of the time they were here. Sometimes being a nurse is a huge inconvenience and slightly painful, because I miss out on some of my favorite opportunities to have precious moments with family, but there are many sacrifices with being a nurse. For now, while I have no children, I will survive the sacrifices. My family knows I'm working hard and Someday, I will have many many favors saved up and hopefully people will be more than willing to help me because I have helped them. This has backfired many times before... it will likely backfire again. Life goes on and I will know I did everything I could, within reason, to 1) keep boundaries and also 2) be a team player.
• Oh, and I began watching the Gilmore Girls series on Netflix. How have I lived without this show my whole life??? My babysitter used to watch it every afternoon, but I would go upstairs and watch 7th Heaven. What a delightful, hilarious show! I'm so glad Netflix has brought the blessing of Lorlai and Rory to my consciousness. So glad I don't live in the Ivy League and rich people lifestyle. My goodness, I could not do it. 
• Guys, I got a haircut!!! I look like I'm halfway between Tris and Jennifer Lawrence. I look a little boyish, to be honest, but I also have not worn makeup with the hair yet. I'l test it out and let you know how it goes. Mostly, I like not having to put my hair up and it's nice to blow it dry and have it take less than 30-45 minutes to get it dry to then have to straighten it. Plus, my curl/wave is working with the cut and actually enhances it. I don't even have to straighten my hair if I don't want to.

Full Moon Madness

It's been 2-3 nights since the huge full moon occurred. Regardless, the children in the Big House have not gotten said memo. I only had two babies last night and they were being so naughty!!!

I was running behind all night long and not for lack of trying. One kid takes frickin forever to assess and feed because there are often unforseen complications such as him puking every. single. assessment. because he gets so worked up and upset that he doesn't even make sound when crying and thus provides enough pressure on his stomach to then throw up. *Ugh, buddy, let's talk about this!* This phrase is uttered more times than should be allowed in an attempt to get him to chill out. Surprisingly, he's more cooperative for me than for anyone else. *facepalm*

My other kid was on a vent, but absolutely delightful. He's so sweet and his family is so kind and calm. I adore this family/kid. However, he's getting sick. So, after being late from my first kid taking waaaaaay too long to eat and not having a tube to be able to tube the rest of the feed, I started in on this kid. Shortly after sitting down to begin charting on both little pip-squeaks, the NNP came in and I got informed the kid needed blood cultures taken stat. Which means IV sticks to get a totally sterile sample of blood, besides whatever terrible thing has decided to begin growing in this poor little kid's body. First IV got placed no problem, but no blood return to be able to get for cultures. So on to second IV. Got that, no problem and got blood. Antibiotics started and I'm already late for the first kid's second assessment/feeding.

*sigh*

The whole night ran behind after that. Try as I might, I could not get caught up on charting completely until day shift arrived. I was 10 minutes to clock out so that I could chart everything that happened.



I finally got home, got showered, and dressed into new pj's straight out of the dryer. Called in my puppy to sleep with me for the day and as soon as I laid down and petted her, I realized she was covered in some mysterious, dried, likely-dead-animal's guts type substance. So, at 10 a.m. after a frustrating night-shift, I walked my backyard twice in hopes of finding whatever it is she rolled in. Then proceeded to give her a bath. She was pissed, but hey, I'm not letting her gallivant about in my house and all over my bed in some dead creatures guts. GROSS!

Dog's bath done, another change of pajamas, scrubbing my arms up to my elbows and aromatherapy diffuser turned on, I fell asleep.

I woke up 5 hours later, and 2 hours earlier than I needed to, because of nightmares. Nightmares about work, nightmares about family, nightmares about past events. My subconscious must be trying to tell me something, but I'm not getting overworked. I think it was just a stressful shift, my family all bailed on me (except for mom) in every way possible (Thanksgiving, both rape cases, you name it), and I'm still battling memories of exboyfriend and exfiance. I would have worded the last few sentences differently, I don't normally use rape in such a blunt term when talking about those two assholes and the countless number of times I have been abused at their hands, but I'm in a no-nonsense kind of mood right now.

Tomorrow night is Newbie's Night Out with the other new girls on my unit. I'm so excited I can't even tell you! I've been looking forward to this night, and attempting to plan it for months. I kid you not. So, for it to be so close is a wonderful feeling. I'll let you know how it goes!

Good news about last night's shift is that I have made friends (work friend status) with the respiratory therapists, many of the NNP's, and so many others besides the regular nurses. Plus, I got to have my favorite charge nurse on last night!!! I tell you what, she makes the shift so much better, just by being there. But she listens when I have concerns, she believes my "nursing judgement" which is little more than babysitter judgement at this point, and she helps us out. She agreed to help me out with tonight's assignments and not putting my two kids together until first kid learns to not take so long and second kid starts to feel better. I wish she were charge again tonight... ah well, I'm making friends with people the other "regular" staff has difficulties with. Thing is, they have difficulties with a lot of people, and I think it's because of the "regular" staff, not the others. Ya know what I mean? That's how it rolls with a clique mentality. Meanwhile, I'll be friends with everyone and people on other units have already begun requesting me by name. So I'm good with that.

Suddenly Lonely

I was doing well being here in Small Town. I was beginning to make friends, look forward to things other than work and support group, and I'm even beginning to get my house unpacked. Yes, I have been living in Small Town for about 6 months and I have only unpacked the things that I use...

The closer we get to Thanksgiving, the more I'm missing my Mom. I miss Dad and Brother too, but I'm so close to my Mom. I was going about a week or two without talking to any of my family members, but about a month ago, phone calls to Mom starting coming on nearly every day or two. That's usually about the time I knew it was time to go visit home or have Mom come have lunch with me in College Town.

After calling Dad yesterday and learning that he wasn't able to come down to visit for Thanksgiving, I tried calling Mom but she didn't answer. I called Brother today, twice, but he's still not answering. Seeing as he just got a new girlfriend and his track record for doing family things when he has friends and their families... I'm thinking the odds of him coming down are pretty slim as well.

*sigh*

So, I'm excited for Mom to come down and to also see my other Home State family who are hoping to come down to visit Mema. I hope they get to come down. Somehow, youngest uncle keeps missing family functions with an explanation that he has to work. Mema has recently mentioned that she is not particularly pleased with him at the moment. She also made some comments about exboyfriend that made me think that the rumor has finally reached the family about him getting talked to by the police and probably arrested under sexual assault charges, that were dropped.

I don't know what's going on. Oh the joys of having a family who talks about nothing with the people going through things, but gossip and speculations spread like wildfire. Along with the gossip, comes believing and siding with non-family members, depending on the story that gets told and from whom they hear said tale. Thus resulting in family splitting, rifts, and silent treatments.

The pull for me to find a guy and settle down is not strengthened by current circumstances... if that tells you anything...

Info Blockage

A problem I have run across, and recently discovered the other new girls are experiencing as well, is that there is a lack of communication to the newbies.

Depending on who we talk to, we are given 15 different answers to the same question that we didn't have until someone told us we needed to do something different.

I was called in for 2 extra shifts one week, and they were day shifts. So I missed the night/weekend differential that I would normally get, and I worked an extra day that week. Normally, when we get called in for a shift that was not scheduled, we get an extra $250 for that shift because we came in when we weren't expecting to. I didn't know that until I ran in to night shift nurses that told me to ask about it. I asked about it and was denied the money because somebody in HR decided that I was working my "normal" shifts, just switched times. Okay, when you get called to come in at 0630, in order to be there at 0700, that's called GETTING CALLED IN. That is not a normal shift. Then getting texted at 1130 p.m. that night to come in for another day shift, that was not scheduled, is also not normal. Somewhere, there is a disconnect and I suspect it lies with the charge nurse that called me in for both shifts...

A few days ago, I got called in at 1901 (7:01 p.m., and shortly after the start of the night shift) to come in and go to the pediatrics floor. I got an email saying that I got the $250 for that shift, for some reason.

I emailed our DON, but the way it was explained makes little to no sense and I think HR doesn't understand what happened and all of the charge nurses that we keep having during these situation are charge nurses that don't normally act as charge so they aren't used to the strange problems that occur, like random call-in pay.



Besides this, I learned that I wasn't supposed to get floated the other night when I went to be a patient sitter. I learned this from a few other charge nurses that are normally charge nurses. I didn't even know it was a rule that I'm not supposed to get floated for 6 months!!!



One of the other new girls is struggling with the rules too. We have a little paper you can sign, then sign up for an extra shift or two within a pay period. IF you sign this paper, sign up for the shifts, and get to work all of you scheduled and extra shifts, then you get $400 each of the extra shifts (1-2 per pay period). Score! Right? Thing is, you can work all of your scheduled and extra shifts, but if you are given a low census for even one shift that pay period, the extra money is denied and all of the extra shifts you worked count as regular pay. So, it's a bit of a gamble, but the risk is way lower when we are in summer and there are tons of babies on the unit and everyone is working 3-4 extra shifts a week.

The new girl got told she needed to sign up for these extra pay shifts, without being told the stipulation of how to not get the extra money. She was volun-told to stay home one night (after she had already arrived to work), even though there were other girls who had wanted to stay home and she wanted to work. So, she found out that she does not get her extra money and that all of her extra work days were a waste because they called her off.



A similar charge nurse surfaces amidst all of these troubles, but I don't want to go starting troubles where there were none. I'm not going to fight my aunt on the extra pay days, but I might go ask her if all of us new girls could be given information on all of the rules and extra things that we are supposed to do with our jobs because the information that we are not being told is coming back to bite us all in the ass.



Speaking of which, we have these blood tests that get sent to another lab. When sending the tests, we have to fill out some form with a bunch of info about the kid we are testing. Nobody ever told me that it couldn't be done in blue ink, and could only be written in black ink. We got a mass email and signs up ALL OVER THE UNIT specifying that the form must be written in black and yada, yada, yada. I know people probably don't know it was me, but they might. Everyone knows I'm new, so I'm not too concerned about it. Still, I'm irritated for getting shamed for things that we were never taught.

Whatever, I'm pretty much just rolling with it. I certainly don't get nearly as embarrassed as I used to. This is another unfortunate side effect of being constantly humiliated by exfiance, exboyfriend, and several other people who used to be friends and are now confused as to why I don't talk to them anymore. It's a mystery really.*** (*Heavy sarcasm there*)

Hunger Games and Divergent

The Hunger Games and Divergent series came out during my traumas. For a long time, I couldn't figure out why I was so drawn to these movies, even though they would trigger flashbacks and a series of very difficult days/nights for myself.

Then, as I was watching both sets of movies at home the other day, it occurred to me. In Divergent, she deals with a guy who has a crush on her, then stabbing her in the back. When that doesn't work, he kills himself. She also has to kill one of her friends because he's hunting her and her mom, while in a Sim. I had a few little tie-ins there from my personal life... forget that the movie had names from my personal life built right in.

Throw on top of everything else that this girl struggles with losing friends, fighting against what is considered acceptable and normal, and also then dealing with nightmares/flashbacks/memories/and loss. I see myself in her.

Now, let's look at the Hunger Games. Not as many similarities to my personal life, but the nightmares/flashbacks/memories definitely ring a bell. Move on to the second and third movies and I'm thinking I'm needing ways to fix our government and find freedom from the bullshit that is presently overtaking the country...



These two series of movies have a main thing in common: a girl, about my age, has to deal with the shit in the world around them, largely on their own. They are faced with death, oppression, difficulties, and then the aftermath of shit going horribly wrong. This results in them both developing severe PTSD, but having to fight through it by themselves.

My story is not as intense, but I definitely feel as though I'm somewhere along similar lines.

For now, I draw courage and encouragement from these movies. I know they are largely fiction, but people around the world are fighting similar fights as these girls, and I, everyday. Some of us surrender to the memories and desires to end them ourselves. Some are hurt and possibly killed at the hands of others, either family members, "lovers", or strangers. Still others continue on to wander through each day, not certain what or where we are going. You know what? I haven't been killed, but I've been through situations where he tried to kill me. I have not died, but I have been through situations where I actively tried to die. So, I am left wandering, by very little choice of my own. Truthfully, there is no shame in any of those paths. Sometimes, life sucks so much that I still wish I were dead. Other time, mostly when holding another woman's baby, I am glad to be earth-side, for just that instant.



Plus, Tris' hair in Insurgent is something I aspire to be able to do. I have wanted to cut it as an act of defiance since I broke up with EXfiance. He convinced me to keep my hair long because he liked it long. I almost cut it the very next day after breaking up with him, but my mom convinced me to keep it long for my graduation, then again for my new hospital pictures. Now I am on my own, in a new life, starting over, and I want short hair!!! If I don't do it now, I might never do it. I have had a bob in the past, but I'm wanting a cut similar to Tris and the cut that Jennifer Lawrence got in real life during the Hunger Game's trilogy or just after they had been completed. Y'all know what I'm talking about, right?

I so wish I could drive up to Home State, schedule a hair appointment with mom, and come back to Small Town very different. Maybe even stop by and visit a few college friends while there. Despite wanting to do this, I have a puppy who doesn't make the day-long drive so well, and she sure and hell won't make it twice. Especially seeing as I have to damn near giver her a whole adult dose of benadryl, and wait until about 6 hours into the drive, for the poor girl to finally sleep in the damn car. She won't fall for that trick many more times, she's already skeptical of Nut Rolls and bread now.

So, I'll wait until Mom comes down for Thanksgiving and shake up my style then. Screw Exfiance and Exboyfriend and any other guy that thinks I need to keep my hair long and styled just for them. No. I do what I want, when I want, because I am my own person. I have survived awful things, and I am finally living on my own. I do as I please (within reason).



I'm gonna follow in the footsteps of these lovely ladies and I'm thinking I want a tattoo and several more piercings to go along with the new hair.

Happy... Content... ???... as a Single

For a good chunk of the last decade, I have been wondering what it would be like to be in a relationship, and I had been desiring to be married. Recently, as in the past few days, I have realized that I am coming into my own skin as a single girl.

I went through 2, count them 2, relationships and both were in 2015. Well, there was this "trial run" with Best Friend, but I don't fully count that...

If you have read any of my posts, you would know that most of them are about the grieving process and healing after these terrible "relationships". Along with the struggles of the pieces left after I left my two boyfriends, you may see that I still struggle with the desire to be in a relationship, get married, and somehow find someone to love and have companionship in life.

Lately, however, I have been getting used to my time alone. I have friends at work, family to call when I'm lonely, and my alone time is fairly nice and something I often enjoy in the day or two directly after working.

Nearly a year after finding freedom from the evilness that engulfed my life for nearly a year, I am finding peace from being alone. There are moments where I am a bit lonely, but it is not nearly as difficult as it had been when I first moved to Small Town, away from my friends and family in Home State.

I can often remain happy, or at least content, until I am reminded of the girls who get the opportunity to marry a guy who treats them with respect and waits until marriage to sleep with her. I get sad that my reality is so very different.

Yet, I am grateful that I have strength to move somewhere that is several states away, by MYSELF. I have been through things, and with people, that should have and tried to kill me. I made it out of those things alive. I have a life, by myself, between living with my parents and making a future for myself. I know what it is like to be so very alone that I wander around a store, just to be around people. I also know what it is like to be able to depend on myself to make it in this world, in a world where my generation can't even get their own driver's license at the age of 21 without having their parents present, because their parents have done everything for them for the entirety of their lives. I am brave, and strong, and smart, and a survivor, and despite everything, the L-rd has allowed my heart to remain tender enough to cry with parents over the difficulty of their baby's condition. My heart aches for girls who have had to deal with my ex-boyfriends and the fact that these girls have lived a similar reality. My heart still breaks for people going through any type of tough situation, whether I have been through it or not.

I have learned that pride is something that is okay when done in the right way. I am so very proud and grateful for the way the L-rd has brought me through my traumas and difficult life circumstances. I still get upset and I'm still angry at what was done, but my heart has not hardened and I am presently content with my survival abilities up to this point.

For right now, I am okay being single and I feel that is an important milestone to be able to reach, for me.

American Elections

I am not so shallow as to believe that American's are all the world talks about. Honestly, I feel like America should not be talked about.

We are discussed with a sneer and snicker, behind the hands of billions of people, both foreign and domestic because right now, America is a mess.

In my personal opinion, I am shocked that Hillary and Trump are the two candidates we had to choose from for this election. Like, really? Guys, for real. Who the hell decided that these two ding-bats would be the ones to represent the large majority of the nation.

While I am irritated that these two were our main choices, I am excited that at least one of them was not a career politician. I don't think politics should be a career goal. When the government got started, it was made up of inventors, farmers, fancy people, lay people, and people of all backgrounds. Unfortunately, I do not believe it was made of people of "color", but the basis of having a government by the people for the people is the concept that we have long since lost.

Having people bring forth the "common place" problems we all face, makes much more sense than having people who have been raised in families of privilege and simply make their 6-7 figure salaries without ever having to show up to work for more than 2-3 days a year. Forget having the millions of dollars deposited into their bank accounts by lobbyists every other day. These men and women are swayed by money and think that just because they are elected, they can do as they wish. Thing is, when I voted last week, most of our state representatives didn't even have anyone from the other party running against them...

These people are voted into office because nobody else is raising money to run against them.

Government should not be a popularity contest.

My mom suggested something the other day that got me to thinking... What if congress was run by regular people and we all took turns in our Congressional Duty, just like we do for jury duty. We could have people elected and go to congress for a few weeks or a month. They will get their base pay and a slight bit more (which will all be waaaaaaay less than the idiots sitting in office now are getting paid) and you go and vote for what matters for you. Things are laid out in lay-man's terms and everyone has a chance of being called in from the lottery system to go vote on important issues. Besides that, most things should be dealt with on a state and county basis.

Why are We the People not being heard simply because we are too low for anyone up on The Hill to hear? We are paying their paychecks, after all, but they are simply not for us. They are corrupt, lazy, and often don't even show up to vote for themselves. What the hell do they do all day?

They don't follow our same rules of life, they have different insurance than the rest of us, and they are so far out-of-touch with reality that it drives me insane. The laws they vote for do not apply to them, but they can vote to have raises for themselves, even though they already have more money than they know what to do with.

No. The government should be run by the people.



I'm not happy that Trump won, but I would not have been happy if Clinton had won. She had her time in office when Bill's name was on the door. Plus, she's a fucking loon.

I voted for neither of them, to be straight with you. People voted largely for parties, this election, not so much for the candidates. Most people are sick of the democratic shit that we've endured the past two terms, so they wanted change. Also, Clinton's ideas of how the world works is so frickin distorted it's not even funny. She needs to be charged and arrested and put into a maximum security prison, not the Martha Stewart version of prison. Bill, needs to have his presidential retirement package taken away because he was impeached. That dumbass should not have even finished out his term. Obviously there are some really bad things that are going on in that household, but they have the generosity to try to share their corruption with the rest of America and even the World! How sweet! Am I right?*** (***That's solid sarcasm there, in case you didn't catch it.***)




There are some bright sides to Trump, though. He has billions of dollars. He is a business man. He believes in bringing jobs back to America and keeping money in America instead of shipping all of our good, jobs, and money to everyone in the world except for us. C'mon people! Keep the money in the United States so that we have a hope of still having a fighting chance in the world. We work ourselves into poverty because we send all of our manufacturing, computer, telephone, and other jobs overseas. It may be cheaper for the companies, but if those in America no longer have money to buy the goods with, what benefit is it to anyone? If there is less money in circulation because it's in China, Japan, and Mexico, we will have no ability to even pay for food pretty soon.

I'm hoping that he truly reforms Obamacare, and makes it no longer mandatory, but also makes it illegal for insurance companies to gouge everyone on rates, while refusing coverage to those born with health problems or those with chronic conditions. Fucking insurance companies need to stop being so greedy and need to pay out instead of stockpiling all of the money we send in. Honestly, health care charges also need to be more reasonable.

America is all about greed and trying to become wealthy. We trample those around us in order to make another buck and look where it's gotten us. Trump and Hillary, with no money in any of the middle class' families pockets because it's hoarded in banks on every coast of every other continent but our own, but a select few people.

Changes need to be made and people need to calm the fuck down. We didn't riot in the streets when Obama was elected the first time, nor the second time even though he did not have many supporters at that point anyway.

Meanwhile, there are riots in the street after Trump is elected and everyone crying and demanding a recount. Oh. My. Gosh. All of the snapchat feed stories I saw today were about "self-care after devestating news" and "it's okay to cry and be angry right now" and blah, blah, blah. Guys, are we not fucking adults? If you don't like the results, then work to fight for causes that are important to you! Get out and vote! Do things that are productive, but put on your fucking big girl panties (regardless of your gender) and grow the fuck up. We survived 8 years of the shit-storm that was Obama, you can survive a term under Trump's leadership.

We, those who didn't vote for or support Obama the last two terms, did not go around crying, pissing, and moaning that his evil ass got "voted" into office. All y'all that wanted Hillary can grow a pair and deal with life for a little bit. We're in America. We are free. We are going to get through this. Hey, maybe Trump can even be good for us... It's a new day and the world is a weird place.

But, for real, the riots need to stop. Y'all aren't getting anything done, except maybe ridding the general public of a few of you people who feel violence is acceptable. Which, if that happens and you're willing to board the bus to go to prison to be with people that are of a similar mind, then be my guest! Good news about prison: you don't have to work, fights are expected, food is provided, and you can even make yourself some friends while you're in there. So go ahead deary, and write to your friends and family on the outside to bitch about how much more life sucks in prison than it did under Trump's leadership in the free world.

LC to Call-In

I got to go to work last night! On top of that, I got a bunch of baby snuggles, got to see how nursing work is done for time-change, AND I got to watch a vaginal twin birth and the second kid was a footling breech!

Guys, let's talk about that again...

An OB/GYN delivered a footling breech baby!!! AND I got to see it!!!

I went into work, with the charge offering me two babies that had been with us for awhile. I asked one of the girls who was on admissions if she wanted to go to the birth, because I had heard the mama was going to a vaginal delivery. The girl said I could go because she doesn't like deliveries!!!

Oh what a wonderful day. The poor girls that were there all night had to work 13 hours. We had two 0100 columns in our charting system due to time change. I would be perfectly okay if we did away with the irritating daylight savings' time changes. Goodness, babies don't understand why we're holding off food from them for an extra 30 minutes for two "random" feedings. They can't be talked to and reasoned with as to why we are making them wait and why they are hungry. So many of the babies were hungry and crying because we had them wait. Poor kids.

Ah well, I think I may have passed out from exhaustion if I had to work the full 13 hours. Praise the L-rd for helping me in unexpected ways!


Oh, and on top of that, I learned that I wasn't supposed to get floated the other day. I'm not supposed to get floated until I've been working for at least 6 months. So maybe the practices of this particular charge nurse will get questioned so that an investigation into the hazing of newbies can be started... If not, I'll survive. Whatever, now I know I'm not supposed to go by myself. Cross-training is one thing, but to be sent by myself is another.

LC'd

We have a "fun" term at my new hospital called "LC". It means I get to be on-call all night because there weren't enough babies for me to come into work, but they want me on stand-by just in case something comes up. Normally, they send out a text to see if anyone would prefer to take it. Tonight I got told.

I shouldn't complain, because it's nice to not have to worry about work for a night. However, I know lots of the girls who would love to have an LC night because they have kids and husbands and lives. Me, on the other hand, live to work right now. I have student loans coming up soon (like the next couple of weeks), and bills to pay... by myself. I don't have a spouse to cover me and working is not something that I do as a way to occupy myself or to gain accolades at various social gathering through the year.

No, I am blessed to be able to have a career that matches my desires to care for babies, but I also have to work in order to support myself. I live on a budget, and I have a dog who depends on me to give her food. Granted, I kinda forget to feed her occasionally, but she's not starving to death because I cannot afford to buy her food and she has a tendency to eat a lot of my food. She works it out.

Guys, I'm getting mildly frustrated with my new job. I love the work itself, it's just the politics of the new hospital that are going to kill me. Some days, I am convinced that I get the shitty assignments because I am a new employee and a baby nurse. I will take those with a smile, though I'm gritting my teeth. I suffer through the night and figure out a way to get all my work done without complaining because that is what they expect. Then, there are nights where I am almost certain I can see the rage in some nurse's eyes, and it's directed at me. Did I mention that I'm new? Did I also mention that many of the girls think the only reason I got the job is because my Mema is a NICU nurse at Small Town Hospital and her sister just so happens to be the Director of Nursing for our floor?...

So here I am, a newbie ripe for the hazing, with a target already on my back because my great-aunt gave me the job. Who cares that a HUGE hospital and university chain offered me an interview just after I had already accepted the job here? I didn't want to burn familial bridges by backing out all of a sudden. Who cares that I've been dreaming and working towards coming down here for THREE YEARS NOW!? What does it matter that I grit my teeth through all feedings being at the same time and being assigned three babies that should not be 1) assigned together and 2) each of them needs to be assigned alongside a super easy baby so that the nurse has any hope of getting through the day. I have had assignments all through orientation that the seasoned nurses refused to accept because they knew their day would suck and be impossible to make it through. The only reason I survived the day is because I was paired with a seasoned nurse that helped me through.

What happened to nurses not hazing the newbies? One of the blogs I read had a post about new nurses toughening up, not whining, and if life is so terrible at the hospital you are at, find another job. Thing is, they suckered me into signing a contract before I ever set foot on the floor... I'll know that next time, that's a trap. There's a reason they need nurses to sign on for a certain number of years and that is because their retention rates are CRAP!!! Why? Well, you've got 4 new nurses to the unit who are all thinking about quitting because the social aspect is complete shit. Charge nurses who will legitimately give you assignments out of spite and talk shit behind your back, only for other nurses to bring these awful details to your attention, to your face. That's just asking for trouble.

Yes, we are working with the DON on some of these issues. However, that brings up a whole new problem for me because if I go to her, they will think I'm being favorited and I will be completely screwed. So, I will stick to the method of sucking it up and dealing with it for 1-2 instances. Then, I will ask for a change of assignment and perhaps inform the other party that I feel I am being treated unfairly. Then, and only then, I will go to our manager. If it doesn't go anywhere by then, I'll go to my great-aunt.

Ugh, I'm fixin' to just call everybody out back and we can handle this like men. This middle school girl bullshit is enough to make a person move to another state.

Domestic Violence Awareness Month

October is Domestic Violence Awareness Month and a time that I now get to soberly celebrate my freedom from the insanity that was my life less than a year ago.

It's a time that I get to remember how far I've come in the few short months since completely breaking ties and completing counseling for my abuses and C-PTSD.

While this is a time of important remembrance for me, it is also a time of angst in knowing that there are others still going through hell and still others who will follow us on the rough path of being targeted by people who think it's okay to hurt others.

Though his attempts to get in touch with me have not ceased, I am somewhere I hope is safe. It is wonderful to be able to say I am not under his reign, and I can breathe again. My life is starting anew and I hope, as the years pass and more time comes between me and that season in my life, that I will continue to put back the pieces of my life and even continue to grow.

My heart goes out to those experiencing abuse, those that have survived, and those loving the victims/survivors. It takes us all to be able to make it through the craziness our abusers cause, but keep strong and continue to fight on.

Comedic Relief?

I got a friend request on Facebook the other day from someone I didn't recognize. Looking through the little bit that was shown on their profile without us being friends, left me still confused as to who this person was.

I looked at the birthday and it matched Exfiance's birthday day, but it showed a different year... I looked at the name and the first name was his, but the last had been changed... There was only a profile picture taken through a windshield looking out onto fields of wild grass, and a cover photo of a motorcycle. I did not recognize the vehicle in the profile picture, nor did I recognize the motor cycle.

Something about the friend request struck me as odd, from the very beginning. As I did my short little search, more and more pointed to this being an obviously fake account, likely set up by A**hole Exfiance.

I never imagined his search for me would ever cease. I'm sure he's curious about what I'm doing, where I am, and how I'm doing without him.

You know what? I'm doing just fine right now, besides the stress of the fucking flu shot and minor stresses that plague every newly graduated college student (bills, chores, student loans, new job, etc). I have bouts of memories, but the L-rd brings me peace. I have struggles with insecurities, still, but I am also more confident than I think I've been in my whole life.

G-d is restoring me from the shell of a person I was a mere year ago, or even 4 months ago. He is filling in the cracks with gold and showing the bits of value I always had.

Praise the L-rd I'm smarter than I look. I can't believe he thought I would be so stupid that I would accept a friend request from 1) someone I didn't know, 2) that someone has his same first name and birthday and 3) pictures that do not show who the account is for... for real dumbass? You think I'm that dumb? After I went to the police, around your back, filed the report, called you on a recorded line, and broke up with you 4 times... while learning how to block you on every communication line you thought you could use. After all of that you think I'm going to be dumb enough to accept your dumbass, non-creative, completely unhidden friend request just because it has a different last name and different birth year?

Good heavens.

Annual Flu Shot

I understand the point of vaccines. Many of them save lives and provide some sort of protection from the billions of diseases that plague the earth at this point in time.

HOWEVER...

I am against mandated vaccinations for all people, and I'm against flu vaccines.

Polio is no longer killing all of our children in America each year. They say the polio vaccine got it under control and nearly eradicated it.

Flu, on the other hand, is not going to get wiped out from some dumb ass vaccine that hasn't shown proven efficacy. Getting the flu shot does not mean you are immune from the flu for that year, nor does it guarantee that you will not spread it to someone else when you do get sick.

Plus, the vaccines we get each year are fighting last year's strains and have little to do with protecting against the strains being passed around for this season. Which, makes the vaccine essentially useless. USELESS.

When hospitals mandate the flu vaccine for all of their nurses, they simply offer it to the patients. The patients can refuse with no backlash, but nurses/doctors/employees are either fired or forced to wear a surgical mask. If the flu vaccine so important, shouldn't patients be forced to protect everyone else the way nurses/doctors/employees are forced to? Should they be strong-armed into getting the fucking vaccine as well? If it's so important, that is...

I also understand that it is something that Medicare/Medicaid is forcing on hospitals saying that if they do not have over 90% of their staff receiving the flu vaccine, then the funding will be decreased, though I've heard the decrease is a mere 2%. Hey hospitals, if you take the 2% hit, I'm sure your staff would be willing to bust their assess to go raise money in the community or take a slight paycheck cut of a dollar or two. Or, like you do everything else, just up the price for all of us patients. Isn't that not how it goes when the men in the offices at the top want a raise?

I get the Tdap (redone for nursing school), I got the MMR, I got all of the Hep B and children vaccines when I was a kid, and I hope that those vaccines actually help. I didn't get measles, I didn't get mumps, I didn't die of polio, and I have not yet gotten lock jaw and died from a rusty nail. L-rd willing I don't have Hep B... I'm not turning yellow. However, the flu comes to most of us each year. They don't have a vaccine for colds... Is that next? Why not get vaccines or, better yet, cures for diseases that actually plague and kill people. Put funding into the cure for HIV/AIDS, cure herpes, cure fucking cancer! The flu vaccine is a waste of time and funding. But, that was the point, wasn't it?

It was a vaccine developed to not actually promise to eradicate any disease. It's something they could make sound really important, and make it sound like it would save millions of lives each year, while not actually having to be measured in order to prove it's worth. It's something that makes Big Pharma billions of dollars annually because they got Medicare/Medicaid on board in order to literally force and coerce every hospital into forcing and coercing all of their employees into compliance.

It's like the EpiPen bullshit where that lady jacked up the price for EpiPens from $100 to $600, for an absolutely medically necessary and life saving medicine. Where did the money go? You guessed it, most of it went into the lady's pocket in the form of a huge salary increase.

Exactly what Big Pharma is doing with mandating flu vaccines.

Where are the protests? Where are the fights? Where are the nurses who are willing to stand up and refuse this fucking vaccine? Together we could stop this, but everyone is too lazy and too scared to send in the little piece of paper to refuse the vaccine. If enough of us refused, there's no way they could fire us all. Especially for those of us in small towns, where both hospitals in the town share the same batch of nurses because most nurses have 2 jobs.

Y'all, Ontario did it! One of the nursing unions of Ontario Canada fought the flu vaccines and stated that forcing nurses to wear a mask after refusing the vaccine was a violation of patient privacy because the masks are used for shaming the employees who refuse the vaccine. Masks then lead to patient questions and harassment by other employees and doctors. *All of which I have experienced in my short time I've been a health care worker (starting with being a CNA at the Alzheimer's home)*

So now I stand on the edge of losing my job or pumping solutions into my body that I absolutely do not agree with. Solutions that have been shown to cause early onset Alzheimer's and fertility problems. Solutions that have no proven desired effects. That benefit to risk ratio is pretty abysmal.

Cross-Training

A beautiful perk to working at a small hospital is being able to ask to cross-train into other units without getting hired on with them as a PRN employee. I asked about a week ago to be able to start training on Postpartum or Labor and Delivery. For those of you that work L&D, or many others of you, y'all know how many certifications and training you have to have in order to be able to be an L&D nurse. As such, I was told that it was too difficult to train a nurse as an L&D RN, unless they are willing to work there full time. Seeing as I am absolutely content and excited to be full-time in NICU, I was completely okay with not doing L&D and sticking with postpartum.

Last night, turns out it was the perfect time to ask to cross-train because we had a low census last night! I showed up, scrubbed in, and looked at my assignment sheet only to find that "Hey, you've been floated to Postpartum!" "Hey, alright! I'll see y'all later!" I said cheerily as I walked my butt right back out that door and down the hall to L&D.

Y'all, I was mildly aprehensive about working on PP (postpartum), because my clinical experience in that area absolutely sucked. I was laughed at, to my face, for a few of my rookie mistakes. Now, keep in mind that this was my first night of clinicals on postpartum, that particular night, and I also didn't make a big deal about anything, I was simply asking for an experienced set of eyes.

The thing I wanted them to see? Well, I wanted a nurse to look at a baby I was checking on because the mom asked why the kid was purple. I did a short assessment to make sure the child was warm and not seeming like it was fixin' to go meet Jesus. Then I calmly (it was a fake calm for the mama's sake), walked to the nurses station and said something to the effect of, "So, know that this is my first day on this unit and the child looks fine. However, the mom is wondering why the baby is purple."

Legit, this is damn near exactly what I said.

Apparently the disclaimer that came before the "purple baby" part didn't matter at all because two nurses jumped up and legit ran into the room. I get it, they were concerned. They checked the kid out and decidedly told me, and everyone else on the fucking floor, that the baby's color was simply due to the purple pain on the wall reflecting back onto the baby. So, in order to fix said problem, the baby should be looked at with the room lighting fully on. Okay, makes sense. 

I apologized profusely and they told me it was no big deal and that they would rather run into a room because of a concern or question I had, than for me or anybody else to keep quiet about anything. They said this a mere 5 seconds before recounting the story to my clinical instructor and every single person that made their presence within 25 feet of them. As they told the story (incorrectly, I might add, as they embellished different things with each retelling), and proceeded to point at me and laugh. I shit you not. They seriously pointed at me and laughed.

For nurses who I listened bitch about constantly being short-staffed because they could not retain any of their new-hires, whether new grads or transfers from other hospitals/counties/states, they seriously made fun of a nursing student right in front of her face. And to their coworker who just so happened to be the nursing student's clinical instructor! SERIOUSLY!!! And you ladies wonder why nobody wants to join you on your floor... really? You have no fucking clue? Can I clue you in any???!!!???

Regardless, I survived the day and never had to go back to that stupid floor. It did, however, turn me off to the idea of working in postpartum.

...Until I came here. I met the postpartum nurses and talked to Mema, who was a postpartum nurse when they were short-staffed, and I decided to at least try it. Even if I hated the job, I figure it's something to help me in case I ever have to be floated somewhere, so I can work instead of being sent home, without pay, for a low census of NICU babies.

You know what? I actually ended up loving the night. I had a great nurse who is normally in the Newborn Nursery. So, once we were finished with our first assessment, we went back to the nursery and snuggled babies who were waiting until their feeding times, so their moms could sleep as much as possible during the night. It was beautiful! Plus, I found some gals to come out dancing with me!!! Since the NICU girls don't want to go line-dancing... and they don't actually seem to want to do a whole lot of dancing at all... I found some people to go with me!

Don't get me wrong, I will still do my absolute best to hang out with the NICU girls, doing what it is they want to do. I really do want to be able to spend time with them, get to know them, and bond with them so that we can all have some support on this tough road. However, I still have some desires to go out dancing and go to the country music places, and even have a few drinks every once in awhile! Goodness, I'm not looking to get blacked out drunk, but I want to enjoy a couple drinks with some fun girls, out in a place where I can dance in a line with a whole bunch of other single girls that I don't know from Eve. I can't explain it, but I'm not ready to leave that part of college life just yet. It's a good stress relief for me and I will stick to my rule about not giving my number out at bars.

For goodness sake, I'm in a place with a lot of southern guys and I just want to dance with a few of these great smelling, cutie pie guys. Is that a crime?



Long story short, I am working on getting cross-trained in Postpartum. I thought I would hate it, but it ended up being a lovely surprise, especially if I need to be floated. Plus, maybe they will let me pick up some extra shift PRN!!!

Don't Let the Stories Die

I recently found myself making lists of things I wanted to do. I was making lists because I was terribly bored and attempting to find fun things to do in town. Also, the lists get my mind to focus on something other than Netflix for a couple hours every once in a while.

During this list-making obsession, I decided I needed to read some "fun" books again. Oh how I love to read!... for fun. Give me a textbook about med/surg nursing and I will either fall asleep the moment it is opened or decide that my house, my mom's house, my brother's frat house, and every single vehicle in my line of vision needs to be cleaned spotless. I'm not normally a tidy or clean person, so you can see how "Pulling a Monica" (I know it's used incorrectly from how Friends uses it, but you know what I mean... she's the clean freak!) would be quite worrisome for my friends and family.

So, after my unit meeting today, I went off and signed myself up at the library. We have a surprising number of libraries in town (5-6) considering how small this town is. Even College Town didn't have this many and it was a bigger city! Anywho, I picked up some books after not finding the ones I was after. While wondering through the many isles of unopened adventures and make-believe lands, my eye caught on a book by Sally Hepworth called The Secrets of Midwives. Naturally, this sounds like a book I need to read! Does it not?

I began the book when I woke from a nap at midnight and I'm already halfway done with it at 0500. This author is an incredible writer and the story really has me engaged. I can imagine myself in each of the lives it depicts, and as being the midwife in these situations. By the way, the book is about a grandmother, mom, and granddaughter; three generations of women who are all midwives and how their various life circumstances intertwine.

What I was not expecting, however, is an underlying story plot of domestic violence. Which, of course, brought me crashing back to earth, to reality, to my story.

When I read, or journal, or blog for that matter, I often find myself wishing I were better at writing so that I could write books. I want desperately to somehow have my story mean something. For the things I lived through to make a greater impact on the world than people hearing I am recovering from rape, domestic violence, and the complex PTSD that followed. I want people to be able to somehow find hope and perhaps be able to avoid situations like mine, by reading or hearing about my story.

I don't want my circumstances and memories to simply fade away and die with me. I figure, if someone has to survive shit like this, those stories need to be remembered and used as warnings for others before it's too late. Before they say yes to a date that they should be wary of. Before they get in to deep with a person who is digging in their evil tentacles from the very moment they meet. Before a person even begins dating, way back in middle school, so they are taught what is absolutely not okay so that the next generations of children have some sort of hope of having higher standards for what dating and love is actually supposed to be, not the sick and twisted version I and so many other have to suffer through.


Today my desire to continue on to be a Nurse Midwife is stronger than ever, as is my desire to potentially find a way to tell my story in a fictional way. Maybe, BedpanAlley could be a published writer of both midwifery, neonatal care, and fictional books someday... Y'all, it'll take a miracle, but how many other miracles have occurred already for me? I'm not even supposed to be here today.



Folks, regardless of where you are in your journey, or whether we walk similar paths or not, I think some of our hardest sufferings, along with our greatest triumphs, deserve to be remembered. Think about maybe keeping a journal to chronicle such events. Perhaps I'm overly sentimental, or odd, or whatever, but I don't think such things should die with us. I enjoy listening or reading about the things my grandparents got to experience, and I often listen with a heavy heart as they explain the pains hey endured. However, it brings a sense of understanding and greater closeness between us. It also helps the new generations not forget the happenings of the past. We lose so much by not looking back. Look at midwifery and obstetrical care: many providers have lost the ability to deliver breech presenting babies. We've lost the basic knowledge of how to build fires and keep them banked for the night so that we don't freeze in our sleep... Many of us have lost the ability to hunt, or if we do hunt we don't do it without a gun or pre-made, specialized bow. Moral of the story: you have stories, don't let them die with you. Tell them to someone who will pass them on or write them in a journal. We don't necessarily need to pass on our Facebook and Instagram accounts, but pass on the deep, meaningful and very real occurrences, both happy and sad, that occur in your life.

First Solo Night

Y'all, I had my first solo night as a NICU RN the other night! I survived it!!! But folks, it was frickin' rough.

Even with them knowing I am a brand-new nurse and had been on orientation the night before... they gave me 3 of the "easier" babies, all with things I have not had to deal with yet with a preceptor and HAD NO FUCKING CLUE HOW TO HANDLE ON MY OWN.

I was talking with a girl who was helping me out, and she asked how my night was going, 2 hours into the shift. I told her good, then explained to her I was given an 8:30 feeder and two 9 o'clock feeders. She legit looked at me and said, "get used to getting terrible assignments for awhile, it happens to everyone."

In a joking matter I laughed and asked, "is it like hazing the new kid?" with a smile and a slight look of fear... to which she responded, "yeah, a little."

Now, I get trying to get me new experiences, and giving me easy babies. Okay, I get it. But if you look at the feeding schedule and avoid giving all of the other, experienced nurses babies that all need to feed at the same time, why the fuck would you give a brand-new nurse all babies that need attention at the same time her first night by herself? Seriously.

For those of you who don't know, feeding times in the NICU are important. Those are the times when you do assessments, get labs, bath, and care for the kid, then feed them. The feeding is supposed to start at their designated feeding time and all cares should be completed before then.

My 8:30 was a kid that was needing to room-in with the parents so that if the parents had any issues during that process, they would have help literally across the hall.

One of my 9:00 feeders was brand new that day, and a train-wreck because not all of her admission labs had been done upon admission, then the NP decided later in the day (like 5 hours later) that hey, maybe getting blood cultures and the other normal admission labs should be collected, just in case. So, day-shift nurse left those for me to do... Now, I'm getting better at regular labs where you just do a heal stick an milk their little foot. The blood culture labs require an IV stick, leaving the catheter in the vein, then aspirating blood drop by drop into a 10 mL syringe to ensure that it is not contaminated with the bacteria from the skin. This is a super scary way to draw labs, and mighty tedious. However, baby veins are so little that you can't just use a butterfly needle or draw blood the way one can on adults or even children. Yes, drawing labs this way is as irritating and tedious as it sounds. Add in the fact that I haven't gotten an IV stick since the very first one I placed on day 2 of orientation, and it stresses me out to no end.

My other 9:00 feeder is truly a feeder-grower. His parents know how to do all cares and he eats really fast. He knows what he's doing and, honestly, I'm not entirely certain why he isn't able to go home yet. But hey, I'm new, so they must be keeping him around for something.

On top of normal cares, me freaking out, and work needing to be completed, we have to get baby weights on night shift. In order to do so, all 20-30 babies are weighed using 1 of 2 scales, unless they happen to be so small that they have a bed with a bed scale.

I had just finished my first assessment when ALL of the parents showed up for ALL of my kids. I needed to do a bunch of paperwork and teaching for the parents who needed to room-in, then get them over to their hospital room for the night. One dad came in with his mom to hold his daughter for the first time since her early birth from emergency c-sections (the kid I still needed to draw labs on...), and the other parents for my second 9:00 feeding showed up and started in on cares and feeding for that baby.

Meanwhile, the charge nurse is asking where I'm at, I had time to only poke my head into each baby's room before I got caught up in the new kids room with a very nervous but sweet dad. The parents waiting to be able to room-in were working on feeding their kid, but ended up having to wait 30 minutes after he was done eating in order for me to get back to help them. And, my sweet parents for my last baby's feeding took care of everything except for weighing their baby, which I put off until the last feeding.

The charge nurse found me, and seemed to get mildly upset with the fact that I wasn't able to be in all three rooms at the same time, but started to help me with delegation and getting other nurses to help with the rooming-in training and whatnot.

Looking back on it now, I can see that feeding the newbie kid should have waited a little bit and I should have gotten labs drawn on the kid when I had a little bit of time before parents showed up. However, I have seen the super-experienced nurses have tons of days like that and I think I handled it pretty fuckin' well. I taught the new dad a lot, and answered all of his questions. I let the parents that knew what they were doing get time with their baby and kept checking in on them instead of just disappearing, and I was able to find a time to sneak away from patient's in order to ask for help. Plus, I was given a difficult assignment that even the day nurse, who has been a NICU nurse for like 15 years, changed as soon as she got in and got report. Now I know I can ask to change it.

I survived my first solo night as a NICU RN. I got done everything I needed to get done, though some was a little bit late. I got a kid a bath, who was in desperate need to be bathed, and he gave me good-smelling baby snuggles with each feeding. I offered help when I had the time, and worked my ass off all night. I organized the beds, talked with all of the parents, and did all that I could, while fending for myself. I was a difficult night and some newbie mistakes were made, but people helped me and went to bat for me once they determined I am willing of their time and effort. I thanked people up one side and down the other to make sure they know I am appreciative of their help. I left in the morning feeling tired, and a little bit defeated, but now that I think back on it, I did an amazing job for a brand-new nurse with only 2 weeks of night time orientation and 12 weeks over-all orientation.

There will be many nights where I will feel way worse because of everything getting crazy busy and hectic all at the same time. There will be days I mess up really bad and need someone to bail me out. There will be difficult parents, babies who are not wanting to fight to live anymore, and times where I feel like a complete failure. For me, I have only had one job where I left and didn't care what happened at work: IT. Working IT left me dreading going to work and counting down the minutes until I left. When I was a cashier in high school, I was so invested in my work that I was constantly trying to improve and do better than I was the day before. In being a CNA, both in the Alzheimer's facility and as a patient sitter in the hospital, I left each day either elated and accomplished or feeling sad/defeated/frustrated/upset. Leaving clinicals was a similar experience for me.

My upset/defeated days come from thinking I could have done something vastly different to lead to a much better outcome than what happened. This can be from interactions with patients, their family, nurses, or any number of the medical staff. It might come from a day when I have no help and the full fuckin' moon is up along with every person with some sore of behavioral issue (both temporary and chronic), or it may come from a day where I am perpetually behind because of something happening at the beginning of the shift.

My happy days come from knowing I did as much as I could. Or from a patient/family member telling me how much I helped them that day. Occasionally, it'll come from a nurse or doctor letting me know how much I helped and how much my presence was required and useful that day (did not happen but once in my 3 years of CNA experience and I didn't believe it when the nurses would tell me that during clinicals because I know I slowed them down). It also came when I had just an amazing learning or teaching experience, like getting to scrub in and assist with a surgery on my first OB clinical night!

For me, I could not handle going to a job where I didn't have emotional connection and attachment to my work. Yes, my heart and emotions are constantly on a roller coaster but, let's be real, I'm on a roller coaster all the time anyway with my bipolar episodes *ba-dum-ts* (that was supposed to be the drum and cymbal sound for when people make a joke). Ha, I made a joke.

You know what, it's true though. My whole heart has been in everything I do, even working IT, and I wouldn't have it any other way. People can tell when you're just there for money or if you actually care about what is happening. I pray my heart stays tender, that I never lose my sense of wonder, and that I am able to continually learn how to be better and care more efficiently so that everyone can feel how much I truly care for them. I never want to get a hard and jaded heart. This means I will have to endure many heartaches and a lot of pain, but I cannot imagine working for 30 years and not feeling anything for my patients or caring about people by the time I retire.


Moral of story for this post: I survived. My babies survived (thought one tried to die on me). And, to top it all off, I was one of the first ones to leave even thought I was able to keep up with all of my work and even help others with their work (as much as possible). I figured I would have been one of the last to leave and super behind all night. Woohoo!

Views On Marriage

After the post I wrote about the dating culture found in my generation, I went to church and learned sat through a whole sermon on marriage.

Let's start off by knowing that I had worked Saturday night, decided to stay awake in order to go to Sunday morning church, but needed to be sleeping in order to work Sunday night. Also remember that I need sleep more than I need oxygen. Sleep is my drug, my comfort, one of my main coping tools, and a general excitement to me at any point in time.

Sleep is important to me, that's the moral of that story.

So, instead of sleeping, that Sunday morning, I went to church (a new church to me, mind you), like a good girl... and regretted it. The pastor decided it would be a good decision to talk about marriage and why it is so important to our lives. Super.

He had 3 points, that I cannot recall at the moment, because I was mostly sitting there in zombie mode, tuning out because I was not following his sermon at all. What I did catch, however, was that we read 4-5 verses about marriage out of Genesis 5, and then we NEVER OPENED THE BIBLE OR READ ANY MORE VERSES FOR THE ENTIRE REST OF CHURCH. Instead of reading from the Good Book to talk about how G-d seems to place certain gravity on the importance of marriage, relationships, and the raising of children, the pastor used quotes from people. He used quotes from guys who have probably been dead for a few decades, but once upon a time had written some doctrinal document that is now revered as being more important that G-d's Word. Of all the frickin' subjects spoken of in the Bible, marriage is kind up there on subjects that you can find a plethora of verses for. I'm just sayin'. For the love of Pete, dude, why are you having a sermon about what mere humans have to say about what they think they want G-d to be referring to in the Word instead of simply going to the Word yourself? Ugh, it made me more angry than I probably should have been. I was sleep deprived and already riled up without throwing this on the mix.

The only plus about the church was that there were a few cute guys, but I feel like they were 1) likely already married or 2) not somebody I should be dating if I already know I don't agree with the pastor on a few subjects...

The kid I "broke up" with a couple weeks ago keeps asking me if I am going to church on Sundays. I keep reminding him that I work but that I'll get around to finding a church eventually. I don't know why everybody feels the need to tell me what I need to be doing all the time. I've been living on my own for 4 years now... if I need help I usually call mom, call dad, then ask for help if they cannot assist me. However, for the most part, I am okay with figuring out how to be an adult on my own. Of all the things I have had to learn on my own: dmv, driver's license, college financial aid nightmares..., college admission, FAFSA, car maintenance (with phone assistance from dad in many cases), renting houses/apartments, living in the dorms, getting jobs (since I was 16!)... I've done a lot on my own. Yes, I still need help occassionally and sometimes it's good to get reminders when I'm going through my depression of "hey, maybe you should remember that it's hard to motivate yourself to go to support group, but it will probably help you today." That's a nice reminder. However, harping on me to go to church continually, like several times in a week when it's already only fucking Tuesday, is not going to do anyone any good and you might end up as a patient in the ER.

Anywho, that particular Sunday, I answered his "good morning" text by letting him know I went to a church but didn't like it so the hunt was continuing on. It turned into a 15 message conversation where he kept telling me what I should be doing, which led me to getting angry but trying to stay civil while also not taking any of his shit...

I was still sleep deprived, now irritated after church, and beginning to boil with him telling me what to do repeatedly. He asked why I didn't like the church, but I never told him which one I had visited. I told him the pastor was more worried about what some silly guy wrote as a doctrine a billion years ago that he (pastor) was about what the Word actually said.

He sympathized, finally, with me then suggested I go to Church R. He said it was a solid, Biblically-based church, with great fellowship... blah, blah, blah. Then, I got to reveal to him the church I was so upset with was Church R!!!

Hahaha, oh man, that made me laugh! It was a sick and twisted thing to laugh at, now that I think back, but I finally found words to explain why some of his discussions with me frustrated me so much, without making it personal towards him. This kid is all about doctrine and quoting some dead guy, from generations past, who thinks he found this "missing meaning" in the Bible that doesn't have a whole lot of scriptural backing when the rest of the Bible is considered. It drives me crazy.

Despite this fact, he is fairly kind in our discussions, even though we believe very differently about most things. And, it's allowing me to have chances to figure out what I believe and how to explain it to others with scriptures to reference. So, in a way, it's good to have some "friendly" fights/discussions every once in a while so that I don't become stagnant in my beliefs and forget why I believe what I believe.



My views and beliefs of marriage are still similar and still perplexing to me. I called my Mom crying when I told her all of this and confessed that I feel torn between wanting marriage and feeling completely okay with being single for the rest of my life. The flip-flopping is ridiculous and giving me a headache! Not really, that was an exaggeration. I also wrestle with the timing of when/if marriage will happen for me. My mom, in her patience and wisdom has had to endure listening to me ramble on about this stuff too many times to count. She reminded me that if G-d wants me single, He will make a way that single life is okay, productive, and my life will still have abundant meaning. If, however, He so chooses to provide a husband and allow me to experience marriage, then He will orchestrate the time and person all in His infinite knowledge.

Even knowing all of these things does not always make it easier in the wait. You know what? That's okay. I've found that the things I have wanted most in this life: jobs, my car, getting into nursing school, graduating college, becoming an RN, getting a NICU job, moving away from home then moving to Small Town, and even the dog that we adopted... all of these things are things that I prayed and prayed for, had to wait for, and worked really hard for (minus the dog, mom paid for her). In all of these things, I wanted to take short-cuts, but that only led to heart-ache and unnecessary stress in my life. However, when I waited and took things slow, waiting on G-d's plan and not trying to make things happen how I wanted it, G-d gave me the desires of my heart and I am content with the outcomes because there is peace in the end result when everything is the way G-d needed it to be.

Long-winded response to remind myself to be patient.

Today's Dating Culture

I've been doing some thinking about today's "dating" culture. I know, that's sketchy business 1) for me thinking and 2) trying to analyze the culture of my generation. I've come to some sad realizations, and it makes me believe that the only way for me to end up getting married or even having a successful dating relationship will be by major miracle and some serious mountain moving/water splitting. I have no doubt the Good L-rd can do it, but it'll be interesting to see if He wants to.

1. Guys don't know how to keep conversations except by text or meme. Even when going to coffee with a guy, I found myself trying to make conversation with someone who clearly didn't have any interest in speaking with me. Why, then, did he insist he enjoyed spending time with me and talking with me when he would end up ignoring me to look at memes on his phone? Bro, seriously, I'm right here.
2. Boys/guys (because they are legally old enough to be "men" but not mature enough to be labeled as such) don't know how to ask a girl out. Back in the day, they would go up to a girl who caught their fancy, learn a little about them, bring the girl flowers, ask her on a date, plan said date to a T, pay for her meal, pull out her chair, hold open doors, and they would get excited about hand holding and plan how to get a hand hold worked into the date. Now, girls are expected to kiss the guy who asks "do you want to hang out?" and proceeds to meet her somewhere that she is expected to pick. Affectionate displays like hand holding, hugs, and generally kisses are expected, especially if dinner was paid for by the guy. And things like flowers, cards, sweet acts from them are not the norm, they are reserved for a year anniversary or Valentine's Day if the couple has been dating for several months before the despicable day arrives. 
3. Texting is something that is done on a daily basis, so there is not much to talk about when the couple meets in person. Add that to the fact that guys these days don't know how to carry on a conversation or talk about anything real and this is simply a recipe for disaster and suddenly, the fact that guys spend their whole date on their phone instead of looking at the girl sitting across from them, makes much more sense. Also the text "WRYD?" (translation: "What are you doing?" We're too lazy to even type it out *facepalm*) instead of asking meaningful questions to spark an intellectual discussion, comes into play about 4 times an hour, at minimum.
4. With no values placed on the importance of dating, having the balls to ask a girl out in person, and getting to know one another while having worth-while conversations face-to-face, it's a wonder anyone gets married these days. 
5. Add in the prevalence of online-dating, and it becomes clear why guys are less likely to commit to one girl, why they have no guts to ask a girl out in person, and how conversations never get past the "so what's your favorite thing to do?" texts. 

Don't get me wrong, girls are helping to perpetuate all of this shit. We make it too easy on guys, by not expecting anything more of them, by not demanding respect and by not waiting ourselves for hand-holding, hugs, and kisses. We have become so addicted to the feel good hormones that accompany such acts, that we refuse to put off that sensation when we meet a new fella. Therefore, we are always chasing the rush instead of finding a guy that is ready to commit to a relationship, and we are often not even wanting to commit because we "fall out of love". Instead, it turns out we merely "fell out" of infatuation because love was never a destination we understood how to get to.

In a culture of instant gratification, looking for deals, expecting life to turn out like a fucking Disney Princess movie, and nobody taking responsibility for their own actions, we have lost the art of dating. What chance do we stand to have a life-long marriage to a high-school sweetheart? What hope do we have to even find someone to marry for any longer than about 6 months to a year? There are online dating sites targeted to help married men find someone to cheat on their wife with. There are countless websites aimed at helping people to find meaningless "relationships" in order to merely have a one-night stand. Even dating websites targeted at "helping" those of a religious background find others with a similar mindset are being used for evil people to find the purest members of a particular faith in order to target them for sexual violence or to try to snatch them away from G-d. Don't tell me it doesn't happen, I know it does.

So, with the cowards that we have become, the inability to tear ourselves from our fucking screens, and the loss of understanding what dating and marriage is supposed to look like, how is there any chance for anyone from this generation to find what G-d intended marriage to look like?

Random Thoughts

It's 0230 and I'm home, but not able to sleep. This, combined with odd life circumstances and a naturally analytical mind, leave me with strange thoughts on a regular basis.

• The extent of which the domestic violence I survived is beginning to hit me from a more logical frame of reference instead of solely from the emotional garbage it laid on me.
• The mice that have taken up residence under my kitchen sink are fixin' to meet the Good L-rd if they don't take the bait in the live traps I set out so that I can transport them to another location still breathing...
• The screen name BedpanAlley doesn't really suit me anymore, seeing as I no longer deal with bedpans... so I need a new name.
• I want to change the way NICU and L&D cares work in the United States, but that's an awful big dream for one tiny little gal. Especially if said gal hopes to someday get married and potentially have children (though that seems improbable and dangerous).
• I need to find a church, but that leads me to try to find a church with a single's group. However, my motives for finding a single's group is less honorable than they should be, because I want a fella. Several problems with this: 1) church should be to learn about G-d, not to find some boy 2) I just tried to "talk" with a boy in hopes of eventually dating and learned I am so far from being ready to date that it's not even funny 3) I still have to wrestle with some shit before dating is even on my radar.
• I need friends to hang out with. While Dog is digging the amount of time I spend at home, she is less thrilled with the fact that I sleep about 18 hours a day. Before you say anything, yes, I know this is unhealthy and I'm working on changing it. She and I went for a "run" today and I made it out of the house before noon!
• My last shift of orientation is tonight. Just let that sink in.
• I wonder how my folks are really doing. I've called them nearly 4 times each this week, but they always make it sound as if they are fine.
• I miss Brother, but he won't talk to me.
• My week is fixin' to become overloaded with extra days they will ask me to work. Knowing me, and how much I would love the overtime pay, I will likely work a bunch of the extra shifts. I'm saving for a car, massage, mani/pedi, trip to a fancy resort in Home State with mom, general savings account, and student loan repayment
• I have mice living in my house. They didn't ask permission and they sure as hell aren't paying rent! Maybe I should get a cat? But Dog tries to eat cats because they look and move like squirrels... Plus I'm allergic to cats and they pee everywhere. *sigh*
• ... Oh, and I think my washing machine broke.

Doctor Searching

I've been thinking about finding a doctor lately. I feel like I should go in and get checked out and try to be a "good patient" that sees a doctor every 5-6 years... instead of my current method of thinking I'm dying of cancer, going in to get checked out once every 15 or so years, then finding out I'm completely fine. I mean it works, kinda, but that's not the example a nurse should set for her patients, right? At least they're babies and won't ask about the last time I went in for my sniffles or the weird lump on my hip.

Along with thinking about finding a doctor, probably an OB/GYN, comes the thought of how to tell them to be extra careful with me. I have read about it some, and it usually gets the point across by simply saying I have a past history of sexual trauma. Short and to the point. I was gonna say short and sweet, but let's be real, there's nothing sweet about it.

Now, I was contemplating all of this, while throwing the ball for my dog in my backyard, when I remembered a completely random memory: I remember being at a karaoke pub with the girls from my senior year OB and peds rotation, celebrating that we were all done with clinicals. Exfiance was there, and it was after I had already gone to the cops, I believe, but the detective hadn't issued a warrant for him yet, so he didn't know about what I was doing. At some point I had to follow my friends out to the parking lot to make sure they had a buddy to come back in, and he caught me alone. He kept calling my name and I just walked away. I walked away with all of the strength and pride a woman can muster after finally leaving her abuser. I walked away knowing in my heart, that I am fighting for justice with all the courage and strength I could muster. I walked away from him with confidence that I was no longer in his grasp and he now has plenty of stories recorded with his name plastered ALL over them so that if some other girl happens to come forward (and I pray it's no girl that ever meets him after me), then his ass will end up in prison for the rest of his days because of the atrocities he committed towards myself and the other girls.

For having been struggling with insecurities, the sadness of realizing I can't handle a relationship right now, and the thought of ending up alone (which I am more and more okay with as the days go by), this random little memory gave me such strength and hope. I was able to be near him, and his tentacles could no longer permeate my heart because I am already gone. Yes, the damage has been done, but I finally had enough of his shit. I finally got the window to escape, the resources to help me do so, and the time needed to separate myself from his grasp.

For those of you who keep going back to abusers, who keep getting sucked in to their lies and manipulation, or who have to stay for safety reasons or children, I get it. I understand the needing to stay for just a bit longer, or accepting the burden of going back because there isn't sufficient safety in leaving just yet. I get it, I understand, and my heart is heavy for you. I am terribly sorry that you are going through that. I pray that one day, you are able to find your window to escape, and that you run and don't ever look back. Sure, the legal system will drag you back and make you relive the memories. Anniversaries will pop up and bring you down. However, keep fighting and moving and running and working towards your freedom. I promise you deserve it. I pray that once you get to leave, that you never see your abuser again, unless required by the legal system and then only in the presence of the cops that are required to guard him/her and a whole bunch of witnesses. More so, I pray you find your freedom and then peace and confidence to be you.

Praying for you victims and survivors tonight.

...And Closure

So I got the closure call today. He was really sweet and apologized for being insensitive and for wanting the relationship to move over my hurdles of: riding in a car with somebody, going to the movies, going over to his apartment (yes, with his roommates there), etc. These are things that most girls don't have such a difficult time with. I have understandable fears about these things, but it requires a guy to be extra patient with me, and I get that.

Well, he wanted me to come over to his place, he thought not riding in the same car was odd, but he complied without complaining to me, and he tried a couple times to go to the movies, but didn't push it too bad when I refused to. Sometime last week, he told me that he thinks that I just need to push past some of my fears of going over to a guys house, going to the movies, and riding with somebody. I got a little upset, but stayed true to my boundaries concerning those things because I went back on those things once and it turned out worse than the first tragedy. I can be made fun of all day long, but I think that it's about time that I start fighting for myself and what I know to be true and what I need to do/not do.

He had called saying he really missed me and wanted closure. I don't know if I gave that to him, but I stuck true to my desire to wait until I was at least a year past my anniversaries. I fought to get out of those shitty relationships of 2015, I am not done fighting for myself, and I will continue to advocate for what I need regardless of what others want. I am shocked that he ever apologized, I think it was really sweet and the things he did that gave me pause weren't on purpose. He's gone through some tough stuff too, so he was trying to help me "get over" my stuff the way he was able to work past his stuff. Thing is, 1) not everybody heals the same way, 2) my wounds are still fairly fresh, and 3) we went through different ordeals. In fact, they are very different. Still very real and very scarring, but we can agree that they are different.

So, on with my day I go, as a single lady in Small Town...

Break-Up?

I broke up with a guy that I didn't know I was dating... I think that maybe both parties should be notified if a friendship suddenly moves into the dating phase... Maybe that's just me?

 At least he took it well. He told me that we couldn't get dinner together or hang out without other friends around anymore. He also told me that "since we're not dating, we can't hold hands and no more forehead kisses anymore." He said it in such a way, that he seemed to be making that a punishment. All I could think was: Bro, you're the one who did those things. I did not instigate such gestures. But hey, at least he had good boundaries in "dating" and he's willing to enforce different, more strict ones after a break-up.

When I originally broke the news to him that I couldn't handle the dating and girlfriend labels because I'm just not ready, he told me that nobody is ready because dating and marriage are all about being self-less and learning to serve another. Well no shit, but it's also about communication so that THE OTHER PERSON KNOWS THEY ARE IN A RELATIONSHIP!!! I'm not being selfish by refusing to "date" you and I'm not changing my decision. He was nice, but I got frustrated that he went on his little tangent. Seriously dude, just don't even go there with me. You don't know my life, you don't know what I've been through. You don't even know me! So don't start.


The next day I sent a text to Best Friend asking: "Am I a heartless bitch for not being sad after 'breaking up' with a kid I didn't know I was dating?" Oh to have heard the laughter in person!  He told me I wasn't and proceeded to laugh, as only he can at my strange life circumstances and told me that I am very serious about being clear of what my relationship status is. I asked if he was being sarcastic, as he normally is with me, but he told me he was not. Apparently he recalls the slow, painful road he and I took towards that front a few years ago. Oh that poor child, at least he knew where we stood at all points in our relationship, from acquaintance to friendship to "trial run" of potentially dating.

I'm so glad somebody gets me and finds humor in the things I find funny. After the "break-up" call with the recent fella, I was too baffled by what he was saying and his little rant to be able to say anything more than "okay" repeatedly. I feel a little bit bad that he's now worried about me being super sad, even though I wasn't because I was unaware I was supposed to be emotionally invested. However, am I supposed to stop him and say that I'm not actually sad in the least? Nah, that would just be mean. This kid is a believer and he goes to church. I don't need to add on extra issues to the stresses he's facing in his life at the moment.

NIghtshift Begins

I worked night shift as a CNA for a year and a half through nursing school. I was a patient sitter, who sat with 1-4 patients on the nights I worked. 12 hours, in a dark, chilly hospital room, trying to get a patient to sleep is difficult work. You may think it's easy or lazy work, which leads me to say: "You do it!" I have had multiple patients grab, kick, punch, and hit me. Yelling doesn't even count as attacks anymore, but some people come up with some nasty things to say when they are on CIWA (edited from AWA, I don't know what AWA is but I wrote this while tired... my bad) (alcohol withdrawal) precautions and need themselves a little buddy for their hospital stay. I have had to stand in the way of elevator doors and hand on for dear life as a dementia patient was pulling me in then pushing me out in hopes that he could get the elevator to work so he could go home.

It may not sound like much, but I have sat with suicidal 15 year-olds, patients suffering from paranoid schizophrenia, CIWA people, dementia sufferers simply wanting to go home, and with so many confused patients that even the nurse refuses to come into the room because of the tension and stress the patient causes for the patient. And yes, they charted that they had done their assessment... I saw it in the charting system but never once saw the damn nurse come into the room (I would know, I was in that stupid room all night, without a break).

Anywho, I predicted that working nights in the NICU would be slightly smoother and a little less difficult to stay awake during. I was correct... for the time-being. I haven't needed mid-shift caffeine boluses (for myself, we started a couple on the kiddos) just yet, nor have I been nodding off while charting. Granted, I just worked my second night shift last night and I'm still working on staying on-time with meds, labs, and feedings, so I stay pretty busy most of my shift.

First Night in NICU: I show up, bright-eyed and bushy tailed for the first day of night orientation. We get report on our two sweet babies and get started. Everything is chugging along with on kid that was admitted a couple hours before we got them (so they required a lot of extra help), and another little punkin that fought feedings with everything the kid had. My gosh, the baby would cry when not being fed, but refuse to eat when we finally gave the bottle. Hahaha, it happens, in my short amount of working, I have seen a few kids do that. So, we got through to about midnight and got notice that we would be getting another child to our assignment. Praise the L-rd I had a preceptor because I didn't even help with our third baby. Then, around 0430, we got a call that our already short-staffed unit would be receiving another little bundle of joy via surprise c-section! Seeing as I'm still learning, and two... one and a quarter nurses are better than none at said delivery... off we ran not even ten minutes later to a delivery that proceeded much more quickly than we were warned about.

When all the day nurses that had been teaching me for  the past several months asked how my first night-shift was, all I could do was allow my eyes to get really wide and say, "Well, I learned a lot." That's it! My gosh, I did learn a lot and the nurses learned that I could be counted on to do their assessments if I happened to not be crazy busy while one of their little patients decided to go meet Jesus as an inopportune time for us. I know it's all about working with the babies and their schedule, but them leaving us to "go towards the light" is not something we take kindly to.

Plus, I realized at about 0200 that it was the Harvest Moon, which is a full moon that packs in EXTRA "excitement" (edited from crazy, because that's a mean word to use), obviously. The labor board was chalked full, our NICU is full to bursting, and all of the babies (both earth-side and those still earth-bound) were in cahoots. The ones we had were mostly trying to die or crying their little lungs out. While the kiddos still cooking in mamas decided that it's about time they join in with our fun. Well, normally I'm all for lots of babies, but when said babies are just a couple weeks over halfway baked, it causes a bit of stress for the medical professionals committed to trying to make sure living humans remains living.

NICU Night #2: We started with two infants and gave report on only those two infants. Oh my gosh, it was glorious. We had time to help other nurses that were crazy busy, and all of us went home and clocked out on time! Charting completed, meds given, learning opportunities utilized, IV placed on child, and teachings done!

When day-shift nurses came on and asked how my shift went, I couldn't help but beam with excitement. I stayed on-timeish (minus getting behind for pulling an umbilical arterial line (scary) and doing labs at 0500. Besides that, the shift went fairly well. My gosh, I have been so incredibly blessed with good preceptors and my night-shift preceptor is no exception. She is a wonderful nurse, a great teacher, and a really sweet lady. I am very glad to be able to get to learn from her and know that I can count on her when I am on my own drowning in the future.



My orientation is technically over in 4 shifts. That completes my 12 weeks of training and preceptorship and the more I work the more under-qualified I feel. I'm not a parent. I've never breastfed. I am a brand-new nurse that has a college degree essentially giving me permission to begin on-the-job training. In a field that is life and death, that is freakin' terrifying. Throw into the mix that the life-or-death circumstances belongs to people's literal babies, and I'm plumb scared off my rocker.

Between being scared of breaking or killing somebody else's child and being terrified that they think I'm gonna be okay to be on my own soon, there is also the worry of the night shift staff. So many of them are girls that are a year or two out of college, but already thinking they should be charge nurse. However, these girls don't even keep up with the responsibilities they have to keep their babies clean, fed, and organized. I'm so sick of my generation thinking that they are better than other, they are entitled, or that they can climb the ladder just by sucking up to those in management positions while degrading and bullying those of us perceived to be "less than" them. Why am I "less than" you might ask? I don't know. These girls won't acknowledge me, look at me, speak to me, help me, or otherwise respect me as a living being. The only thing that shows that they can actually see me, is that us "less than's" tend to be tucked into various jokes. At least I provide comedic relief to somebody! I'm constantly laughing at myself, but it's nice to know somebody else can laugh with me too.