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*)
Showing posts with label night shift. Show all posts
Showing posts with label night shift. Show all posts
Monday, November 14, 2016
Wednesday, October 5, 2016
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!
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.
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.
Thursday, September 22, 2016
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.
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.
Tuesday, November 3, 2015
Sleep Disturbances
Let's start off by discussing how precious sleep it so me. First of all, I sleep an absolutely ridiculous amount. This is because of depression, I work nights, and it is my drug of choice when life is getting too hard and I need to escape. Lately, life is very difficult, I worked last night, and depression is probably at an all time high and the longest duration I think I've ever had it in my life. Therefore, I require a lot of sleep.
Oh, an I'm in nursing school. If you are not in nursing school but plan to be, just know that some of your vacations will be spent sleeping because you get NONE during school, especially if you work and go to school and ever want to see any other human being while you are in the program. Get used to living with coffee running as the fluids in your vasculature, blood is now overrated.
Did I mention I worked last night? Before work, I typically sleep from noon until about 5:30 so that I can get sleep before work so I will not be dozing off during my shift. Seeing as I sit in a dark room with a patient I am trying to get to sleep, but I need to not sleep, this nap is crutial to me keeping my job! Yesterday I got to sleep around 2, slept for about an hour before getting woken up. Oh the rage. Words do injustice to the anger coursing through my body after being woken up. I get grumpy anyway when I'm woken up. HOwever, when I am woken up after it was incredibly difficult to fall asleep, and it took another 45 minutes to get me back to sleep in the middle of the day, I was furious. I was woken up so that the dog could come and jump on my bed because roommate does not like her being alone when she leaves. The dog is fine alone, we leave her completely alone for hours and hours during the day when we have stuff to do, she will be fine for a couple of hours while I sleep so that I can work.
Today I had to go run errands before coming home after my shift. I waited at both of the stores I needed to go to because I got to both of them before opening time because I got off at a terrible hour in the morning and nobody should be up that early. I tried for the rest of the day to lay down and take a nap after that, but I just couldn't do it. I finally got to sleep around 4 then the damned dog came in 30 minutes later whining to go out. Exasperation consumed every atom that makes up my being and I woke up to take the dog out. After 15 minutes of her sniffing around, she still hadn't gone to the bathroom at all! Oh my goodness! I was so beyond pissed. I brought her back in and told her to go to her kennel. So pissed!!! It took another 30 minutes to go back to bed (keep in mind I've been up for about 24 hours with no sleep and that makes me incredibly grumpy anyway) but having sleeping problems makes it worse. I get to sleep, stay asleep for about an hour and a half and wake up to roommate asking me to wake up to come pick up a bug she killed in her room. Yeah. I absolutely adore this girl, but the lack of sleep I'm getting is making my depression get exponentially worse by the hour and so my life is getting darker and gloomier by the moment. At this point, I am about to lose my shit because I was woken up from my very short nap to pick up a FUCKING BUG!
Please excuse the bad words, I need a little chesed (grace) because there is a lot of anger in my heart and the lack of sleep is contributing to the addition of more and more grumpiness as each day passes.
These two incidences, plus getting woken up because the dog starts barking and playing around when she gets home and the volume in the apartment raising to extremely high levels, typically once I am down for a much needed nap. In addition, being woken up at 0600 on my fucking days off so the dog can eat a treat on my bed and snuggle for a solid 3 seconds before roommate leaves, I am so beyond past my level of being ticked off. I'm also not supposed to sleep as much as required by my depression because seeing me only come out of my room to pee and eat occasionally, because I am sleeping the rest of the time, makes her worried and I made her cry because of that.
I need sleep! That's all I want. I want to sleep in a bed where the dog doesn't keep peeing in it. I want to sleep in on my days off when the apartment will be silent and I can maybe catch up on sleep without roommate worrying about me because she won't be there during the day. I want to sleep before work and know that I can get a decent nap in before work without getting woken up. I want to be able to sleep after my 12 hour long night shift because I am stressed and exhausted, without getting woken up by barking by an excited dog, barking and whining because the dog is bored and wants to go outside to sniff around, and other things that wake me up unnecessarily because I haven't slept in a very long time. ALL I WANT IS SLEEP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I'm so at my whits end with life, it's just not even funny.
Add all of these things to the recurring nightmares and strange, vivid dreams I keep having about exboyfriend, Country Boy, and fiance and my life is getting very little sleep, let alone restful sleep.
Oh, an I'm in nursing school. If you are not in nursing school but plan to be, just know that some of your vacations will be spent sleeping because you get NONE during school, especially if you work and go to school and ever want to see any other human being while you are in the program. Get used to living with coffee running as the fluids in your vasculature, blood is now overrated.
Did I mention I worked last night? Before work, I typically sleep from noon until about 5:30 so that I can get sleep before work so I will not be dozing off during my shift. Seeing as I sit in a dark room with a patient I am trying to get to sleep, but I need to not sleep, this nap is crutial to me keeping my job! Yesterday I got to sleep around 2, slept for about an hour before getting woken up. Oh the rage. Words do injustice to the anger coursing through my body after being woken up. I get grumpy anyway when I'm woken up. HOwever, when I am woken up after it was incredibly difficult to fall asleep, and it took another 45 minutes to get me back to sleep in the middle of the day, I was furious. I was woken up so that the dog could come and jump on my bed because roommate does not like her being alone when she leaves. The dog is fine alone, we leave her completely alone for hours and hours during the day when we have stuff to do, she will be fine for a couple of hours while I sleep so that I can work.
Today I had to go run errands before coming home after my shift. I waited at both of the stores I needed to go to because I got to both of them before opening time because I got off at a terrible hour in the morning and nobody should be up that early. I tried for the rest of the day to lay down and take a nap after that, but I just couldn't do it. I finally got to sleep around 4 then the damned dog came in 30 minutes later whining to go out. Exasperation consumed every atom that makes up my being and I woke up to take the dog out. After 15 minutes of her sniffing around, she still hadn't gone to the bathroom at all! Oh my goodness! I was so beyond pissed. I brought her back in and told her to go to her kennel. So pissed!!! It took another 30 minutes to go back to bed (keep in mind I've been up for about 24 hours with no sleep and that makes me incredibly grumpy anyway) but having sleeping problems makes it worse. I get to sleep, stay asleep for about an hour and a half and wake up to roommate asking me to wake up to come pick up a bug she killed in her room. Yeah. I absolutely adore this girl, but the lack of sleep I'm getting is making my depression get exponentially worse by the hour and so my life is getting darker and gloomier by the moment. At this point, I am about to lose my shit because I was woken up from my very short nap to pick up a FUCKING BUG!
Please excuse the bad words, I need a little chesed (grace) because there is a lot of anger in my heart and the lack of sleep is contributing to the addition of more and more grumpiness as each day passes.
These two incidences, plus getting woken up because the dog starts barking and playing around when she gets home and the volume in the apartment raising to extremely high levels, typically once I am down for a much needed nap. In addition, being woken up at 0600 on my fucking days off so the dog can eat a treat on my bed and snuggle for a solid 3 seconds before roommate leaves, I am so beyond past my level of being ticked off. I'm also not supposed to sleep as much as required by my depression because seeing me only come out of my room to pee and eat occasionally, because I am sleeping the rest of the time, makes her worried and I made her cry because of that.
I need sleep! That's all I want. I want to sleep in a bed where the dog doesn't keep peeing in it. I want to sleep in on my days off when the apartment will be silent and I can maybe catch up on sleep without roommate worrying about me because she won't be there during the day. I want to sleep before work and know that I can get a decent nap in before work without getting woken up. I want to be able to sleep after my 12 hour long night shift because I am stressed and exhausted, without getting woken up by barking by an excited dog, barking and whining because the dog is bored and wants to go outside to sniff around, and other things that wake me up unnecessarily because I haven't slept in a very long time. ALL I WANT IS SLEEP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I'm so at my whits end with life, it's just not even funny.
Add all of these things to the recurring nightmares and strange, vivid dreams I keep having about exboyfriend, Country Boy, and fiance and my life is getting very little sleep, let alone restful sleep.
Sunday, September 14, 2014
Boys are Better
Over the past couple of weeks I have had the same conversation with nearly every one of my groups of friends that I come into contact with. The subject of why it's better to be a guy in comparison to my experience being a girl. You may disagree with some of my point, and that is okay. You can discuss it or simply understand that I am a tomboy with a "different" outlook on life.
Now, why is that Y chromosome able to make them better? Let's explore some of the reasons.
1) They can pee standing up which allows them to relieve themselves much more easily than us females. I need a place to sit/squat, some extra privacy (because we are much more exposed), and often I like to have an actual bathroom as opposed to a tree or bush. I also NEED a place to wash my hands with soap and water because germs. Yes, that is poor grammar and no, I do not wish to change it.
2) They smell better after working out.* I, on the other hand, do not smell nearly as nice after working out and require a shower immediately. Therefore, I tend to not do things to make me sweat because then I smell like a rotting carcass and people wonder what died.
*This comes with some exclusions and also with a time frame. Now, they typically smell okay for the first 20-30 minutes after beginning to sweat, after that it gets questionable quickly!
3) They don't have to shave. Think about this, it is typically socially unacceptable for a female in America to not shave her armpits or legs, especially if either one will be exposed. Guys, however, brag about long armpit hair, they get teased if the shave their leg hair, and facial hair is acceptable whether shaved or grown. Why do they get to be hairy beasts and we have to be hairless in all the right places with long hair on our heads?
4) Guys are better at EVERYTHING!!! Shooting guns? Guys can hit more targets and shoot guns better than girls can. Sports? Most guys can pick up any ball and innately know how to play it while I can't even hold the ball with one hand because my hands are too small. Driving? Guys pick up learning stick shift a whole lot faster than the ladies I have taught and way, way faster than it took me to learn it. Playing with kids? Guys are still kids so they have a weird ability to be able to play for hours with children while I struggle to understand what they want me to do to keep them entertained. Riding horses? How do they look so good while riding a horse? I mean seriously. Fixing stuff? I think that Y chromosome automatically makes guys understand how to fix cars, motors, stuff around the house, and also gives them the ability to drive or operate any type of machinery they come across.
5) They are physically stronger. I can barely pick up something that is 60-75 pounds after working out and strength training for months. Guys, because of testosterone, don't have to work out but can still pick up things that are twice the weight of me without ever doing anything to build up that strength. All because of testosterone.
6) They can roll out of bed and look good after about 15 minutes of getting ready. If I was to look even half way decent, it takes me a solid hour and a half. If I want to look good enough to go to a wedding, I takes at least 3 hours and a team of about 23 people who are specialized in "tough cases" to dress me, do my hair and make-up, and take care of everything else.
7) They typically cause less drama in their friend groups because they are fairly honest with what they are thinking. They also, typically, live in the here and now or in the future. Girls like to drag things out, keep secrets, gossip, and play games with each other. Females also like to drudge things up from the past and then over-analyze what happened, which means fights are never really over while guys beat each other up and forget about the issue almost immediately.
The list goes on, these are just the main points I remembered from what my friends and I came up with.
What brought this up? My general jealousy that I cannot do anything right while the guys in my life are able to excel at just about anything they try. Also, I had a couple of guys tell me that I need to try harder to look good because my hair was "poofy" (their words). Well, I got defensive but mostly kept if to myself. However, that is eating a hole in my sanity and I decided to express it here.
I looked bad because I had been up for 36 hours at that point, I was running on 7 hours of fitful sleep, I had worked the night before then showered before going to tutor one of my cousins. I then proceeded to keep busy the rest of the day (an also slightly late the rest of the day) and did not have time or energy to look decent nor did it seem particularly important because it was a miracle I was awake and pleasant to begin with. To be poked at by someone who does not know what it is like to be a girl, let alone work all night, was not something I had prepared myself to deal with. Also, when I do take the time to try to look okay, nobody cares! They don't notice. Instead, they just come up with something else that I'm not doing right and then harp on that for awhile. Plus, I'm not one of those innately pretty people nor do I know how to use make-up and stuff to make myself look like I might be beautiful. My job is not to be on Earth just to look good for some boy. I am a plain tomboy who takes the time to care for others instead of worrying about my appearances. I could look worse, but what you see is my effort to simply stay sane.
Praise the L-rd I was too tired to tell them all that. Instead, I simply told them that I looked worse before then shut my mouth and laughed along with them while "joking" that they hurt my feeling (yes, singular). It stings though. It brings back what kids have been saying since I was little. It also doesn't help that it was from a guy who I am sorta crushing on and another guy who I really like hanging out with because they are both super fun. This also makes me want to try harder, but then they'll tease me for getting dolled up. So, I came home, did my make-up in what was supposed to be a smokey eye, drank a beer and watched children's movies until I crashed on the couch.
It's a struggle to be somewhere between girl and guy, child and adult, country and city. I don't know where I belong. I was raised to focus on being smart instead of pretty. When I was a baby and people told my mom I was pretty, beautiful or cute, she would tell them I was smart, which she felt was/is more important. Now, I don't feel smart, or pretty. Now I'm just confused.
Now, why is that Y chromosome able to make them better? Let's explore some of the reasons.
1) They can pee standing up which allows them to relieve themselves much more easily than us females. I need a place to sit/squat, some extra privacy (because we are much more exposed), and often I like to have an actual bathroom as opposed to a tree or bush. I also NEED a place to wash my hands with soap and water because germs. Yes, that is poor grammar and no, I do not wish to change it.
2) They smell better after working out.* I, on the other hand, do not smell nearly as nice after working out and require a shower immediately. Therefore, I tend to not do things to make me sweat because then I smell like a rotting carcass and people wonder what died.
*This comes with some exclusions and also with a time frame. Now, they typically smell okay for the first 20-30 minutes after beginning to sweat, after that it gets questionable quickly!
3) They don't have to shave. Think about this, it is typically socially unacceptable for a female in America to not shave her armpits or legs, especially if either one will be exposed. Guys, however, brag about long armpit hair, they get teased if the shave their leg hair, and facial hair is acceptable whether shaved or grown. Why do they get to be hairy beasts and we have to be hairless in all the right places with long hair on our heads?
4) Guys are better at EVERYTHING!!! Shooting guns? Guys can hit more targets and shoot guns better than girls can. Sports? Most guys can pick up any ball and innately know how to play it while I can't even hold the ball with one hand because my hands are too small. Driving? Guys pick up learning stick shift a whole lot faster than the ladies I have taught and way, way faster than it took me to learn it. Playing with kids? Guys are still kids so they have a weird ability to be able to play for hours with children while I struggle to understand what they want me to do to keep them entertained. Riding horses? How do they look so good while riding a horse? I mean seriously. Fixing stuff? I think that Y chromosome automatically makes guys understand how to fix cars, motors, stuff around the house, and also gives them the ability to drive or operate any type of machinery they come across.
5) They are physically stronger. I can barely pick up something that is 60-75 pounds after working out and strength training for months. Guys, because of testosterone, don't have to work out but can still pick up things that are twice the weight of me without ever doing anything to build up that strength. All because of testosterone.
6) They can roll out of bed and look good after about 15 minutes of getting ready. If I was to look even half way decent, it takes me a solid hour and a half. If I want to look good enough to go to a wedding, I takes at least 3 hours and a team of about 23 people who are specialized in "tough cases" to dress me, do my hair and make-up, and take care of everything else.
7) They typically cause less drama in their friend groups because they are fairly honest with what they are thinking. They also, typically, live in the here and now or in the future. Girls like to drag things out, keep secrets, gossip, and play games with each other. Females also like to drudge things up from the past and then over-analyze what happened, which means fights are never really over while guys beat each other up and forget about the issue almost immediately.
The list goes on, these are just the main points I remembered from what my friends and I came up with.
What brought this up? My general jealousy that I cannot do anything right while the guys in my life are able to excel at just about anything they try. Also, I had a couple of guys tell me that I need to try harder to look good because my hair was "poofy" (their words). Well, I got defensive but mostly kept if to myself. However, that is eating a hole in my sanity and I decided to express it here.
I looked bad because I had been up for 36 hours at that point, I was running on 7 hours of fitful sleep, I had worked the night before then showered before going to tutor one of my cousins. I then proceeded to keep busy the rest of the day (an also slightly late the rest of the day) and did not have time or energy to look decent nor did it seem particularly important because it was a miracle I was awake and pleasant to begin with. To be poked at by someone who does not know what it is like to be a girl, let alone work all night, was not something I had prepared myself to deal with. Also, when I do take the time to try to look okay, nobody cares! They don't notice. Instead, they just come up with something else that I'm not doing right and then harp on that for awhile. Plus, I'm not one of those innately pretty people nor do I know how to use make-up and stuff to make myself look like I might be beautiful. My job is not to be on Earth just to look good for some boy. I am a plain tomboy who takes the time to care for others instead of worrying about my appearances. I could look worse, but what you see is my effort to simply stay sane.
Praise the L-rd I was too tired to tell them all that. Instead, I simply told them that I looked worse before then shut my mouth and laughed along with them while "joking" that they hurt my feeling (yes, singular). It stings though. It brings back what kids have been saying since I was little. It also doesn't help that it was from a guy who I am sorta crushing on and another guy who I really like hanging out with because they are both super fun. This also makes me want to try harder, but then they'll tease me for getting dolled up. So, I came home, did my make-up in what was supposed to be a smokey eye, drank a beer and watched children's movies until I crashed on the couch.
It's a struggle to be somewhere between girl and guy, child and adult, country and city. I don't know where I belong. I was raised to focus on being smart instead of pretty. When I was a baby and people told my mom I was pretty, beautiful or cute, she would tell them I was smart, which she felt was/is more important. Now, I don't feel smart, or pretty. Now I'm just confused.
Friday, July 4, 2014
Joys of Night Shift
As I've recently mentioned, I am now working in the hospital! Actually, I'm in a float pool between a few hospitals and I work primarily as a patient sitter.
I like this new job. Actually, I was scared about it because when I first got my CNA job in the long term are facility, life SUCKED! Oh man, they hazed me and I had to get used to patients with sun-downers and dementia and all sorts of other nuances that come with elderly care. This new job, however, allows me to typically focus on just one patient. Occasionally, I have multiple patients, but still it is never really more than 4-5.
Last night I was in charge of two patients. Both were conked out pretty hard because they had busy days and a few nights of hardly any sleep preceeding that. Yay! That means loads of time to read. Seriously, have I mentioned how much I love this job? On top of all that I get a differential for being float pool, a differential for working over night, and holiday pay of time and a half. Dude, is this for real?!
Anywho, last night was fine. I had to sit in the hall between both patient's rooms and there was another cluster of three patients requiring another sitter directly next to mine. Super! I got to have company all night long. We were talking most of the night when we started to hear some odd noises in one of the patient rooms. Neither of us were assigned to that particular room, but it just happened to be in our territory. We ignored the sounds because it didn't sound like the pt was in pain or scared or needed anything. As time went on, however, we started hearing grunts. They got louder and some groans were mixed in. Sheets were heard rustling and the patient got louder and louder. My CNA buddy and I peeked in and the patient was (in her words) "jerking off"!!! Oh my goodness! He knew we were outside the door because he called to us periodically throughout our shift for water or help going to the bathroom or what-have-you.
I wish I could un-hear that whole thing. My innocence is being stolen from me and I can't do anything to prevent it. I can't get it back and I seriously think I'm scarred from this whole experience.
Yikes. Well, at least I have not yet encountered patients any more physically intimate than just making out (they were dementia patients). Good news, though, I had some serious comic relief last night after I got over the initial shock and laughed so ridiculously hard for about 10 minutes I was crying. Plus, I now have all sorts of fun stories and memories to make me laugh for a lifetime and I've only been a CNA for a year and a half. Just wait until I've been a nurse for my whole life!
I like this new job. Actually, I was scared about it because when I first got my CNA job in the long term are facility, life SUCKED! Oh man, they hazed me and I had to get used to patients with sun-downers and dementia and all sorts of other nuances that come with elderly care. This new job, however, allows me to typically focus on just one patient. Occasionally, I have multiple patients, but still it is never really more than 4-5.
Last night I was in charge of two patients. Both were conked out pretty hard because they had busy days and a few nights of hardly any sleep preceeding that. Yay! That means loads of time to read. Seriously, have I mentioned how much I love this job? On top of all that I get a differential for being float pool, a differential for working over night, and holiday pay of time and a half. Dude, is this for real?!
Anywho, last night was fine. I had to sit in the hall between both patient's rooms and there was another cluster of three patients requiring another sitter directly next to mine. Super! I got to have company all night long. We were talking most of the night when we started to hear some odd noises in one of the patient rooms. Neither of us were assigned to that particular room, but it just happened to be in our territory. We ignored the sounds because it didn't sound like the pt was in pain or scared or needed anything. As time went on, however, we started hearing grunts. They got louder and some groans were mixed in. Sheets were heard rustling and the patient got louder and louder. My CNA buddy and I peeked in and the patient was (in her words) "jerking off"!!! Oh my goodness! He knew we were outside the door because he called to us periodically throughout our shift for water or help going to the bathroom or what-have-you.
I wish I could un-hear that whole thing. My innocence is being stolen from me and I can't do anything to prevent it. I can't get it back and I seriously think I'm scarred from this whole experience.
Yikes. Well, at least I have not yet encountered patients any more physically intimate than just making out (they were dementia patients). Good news, though, I had some serious comic relief last night after I got over the initial shock and laughed so ridiculously hard for about 10 minutes I was crying. Plus, I now have all sorts of fun stories and memories to make me laugh for a lifetime and I've only been a CNA for a year and a half. Just wait until I've been a nurse for my whole life!
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