Today started out not to good but at least it ended well...
I woke up around 9 with a horrible migraine, after dreaming that I was having a headache for probably a few hours. So I took my magic little pill, which chased away the headache but left me sleepy and drugged when I finally woke up around noon. I spent the next few hours on the phone with credit union people and bill people, getting increasingly frustrating answers and no helpful information. I battled homecoming traffic to the hospital to have my TB test read (good news: I don't have TB!) then I battled Friday afternoon grocery store moms (but found a sale on diet Coke!) then battled more homecoming traffic back home. By then I was so hungry, frustrated, and annoyed, that I took a nap. I'm a good napper.
But then I woke up, showered, and went to go hear Bill Bryson talk. And he was funny and amusing and I'm so glad I went. Then I met a fellow, J, for a drink on Capitol Hill. He turned out to be a red-headed Jewish PhD candidate from Pittsburgh. He was taller than me and didn't have girly hands. He was funny in that self-deprecating academic way that only Jews and academics can be. In case you don't me at all, those are all very very good things, on my list of "People I want to spend time with."
So, I am now a happier girl than when I woke up. I am going to knit, watch Big Love, then read another chapter in the Biography of Elizabeth. Ahhh, life is good. Well, it's not so bad.
Saturday, October 28, 2006
Things that are sweet
Although of course this entire little baby is the sweetest, cutest thing, and there isn't anything about her that isn't adorable, I love this photo because it highlights that perfect smooshable cheek, that tiny kissable ear, and those wee little fingers....my favorite bits.
Friday, October 27, 2006
outdated!
That's me, I'm out-dated. I've dated too much this week. Ugh. I don't even have the energy to update you on each of the fellows...I used it all up straightening my hair and smiling a lot. Tonight I took the night off to knit and watch Big Love and eat gnocchi in vodka sauce and of course I drank some more Argentinian wine. I have a magnet on my fridge that says, "Sorry I can't go on a date with you, I need to stay home and knit." Oh, so true.
Is it true that Lexus makes a car that can parallel park itself? Because I saw it on a commercial, so it has to be true. And I am truly disgusted. Us true parallel parkers (doing it the old-fashioned way, with my hands on the steering wheel...I know, CRAZY!) must refuse to be replace by a machine. Parallel parking is a skill, a true art-form if you will. And I will. Yep, in two moves, that's right, and I'm proud of my skills. So I thumb my nose at you, Lexus, and you lazy Lexus-drivers. If you can't parallel park your own car, then a.) Stay off the road, Soccer Mom, or b.) Find yourself a cozy little parking garage and pull that sucker in head first. Ugh. I hope your parallel-parking computer in your fancy-ass Lexus breaks and there you will be, double-parked, wondering why everyone who actually knows how to drive also knows how to use their horn. Does the Lexus beep at other drivers for you too, when they cut you off? Then make you a latte? Can you hear that noise? Listen closely. That's me gagging. On your Lexus exhaust.
Is it true that Lexus makes a car that can parallel park itself? Because I saw it on a commercial, so it has to be true. And I am truly disgusted. Us true parallel parkers (doing it the old-fashioned way, with my hands on the steering wheel...I know, CRAZY!) must refuse to be replace by a machine. Parallel parking is a skill, a true art-form if you will. And I will. Yep, in two moves, that's right, and I'm proud of my skills. So I thumb my nose at you, Lexus, and you lazy Lexus-drivers. If you can't parallel park your own car, then a.) Stay off the road, Soccer Mom, or b.) Find yourself a cozy little parking garage and pull that sucker in head first. Ugh. I hope your parallel-parking computer in your fancy-ass Lexus breaks and there you will be, double-parked, wondering why everyone who actually knows how to drive also knows how to use their horn. Does the Lexus beep at other drivers for you too, when they cut you off? Then make you a latte? Can you hear that noise? Listen closely. That's me gagging. On your Lexus exhaust.
Friday, October 20, 2006
Size matters
It's no secret that I love tiny things, miniature things, diminuitive things....you get the picture. And it's probably no secret that I love England, Great Britain, London, all things from the UK.... so it follows (I loved doing corrollaries in geometry) that I LOVE this. Love it.
Thursday, October 19, 2006
You just keep me hangin' on...
Mr. F passed away yesterday. He had a soft-tissue infection just over his left hip bone, the result of an infected bone marrow biopsy site. After a couple of I & Ds in the OR and many many surgeons poking, debriding, cauterizing, stitching...and many many RNs packing, re-dressing, lavaging, infusing platelets, cursing surgeons...anyway, the infection was about the size of a melon. Well, the amount of flesh missing was would have been the size of a melon. It was horrible but fascinating. Poor fellow.
Anyway, the topic of this post was my musing that despite the fact that about 95% of my patients die within a few weeks of their time with me, and although I've been an RN for nearly two years, and although I've wrapped countless post-mortem bodies and handed countless boxes of tissue to family members and silently hugged grieving spouses/children/siblings/friends, never has MY patient expired on MY shift. Ok, wait, one did...a young women who we withdrew care on during my orientation in the ICU. They always wait till I go home...at least a few hours, sometimes a whole shift, then they go. Weird.
Tomorrow I'm off to my favorite little city, Portland. I've got some new CDs for the car ride (the new Beck and Portland's own, The Decemberists), a list of "needs" from Powell's, and my fleece. Really, I don't need anything more.
Of course I will miss this little face:
But he will be in good hands, getting lots of little doggie snacks and belly rubs and play time with his stinky duck. Now, I must be off to bed, I have to get through my biography of Elizabeth I before I move onto the story of Mary Stuart and the "mysterious" murder of her asshole husband, Lord Darnley. This stuff is better than soap operas!
Oh, no word from my new boss on the possibility of changing my start date. Looks like Europe may have to wait....
Anyway, the topic of this post was my musing that despite the fact that about 95% of my patients die within a few weeks of their time with me, and although I've been an RN for nearly two years, and although I've wrapped countless post-mortem bodies and handed countless boxes of tissue to family members and silently hugged grieving spouses/children/siblings/friends, never has MY patient expired on MY shift. Ok, wait, one did...a young women who we withdrew care on during my orientation in the ICU. They always wait till I go home...at least a few hours, sometimes a whole shift, then they go. Weird.
Tomorrow I'm off to my favorite little city, Portland. I've got some new CDs for the car ride (the new Beck and Portland's own, The Decemberists), a list of "needs" from Powell's, and my fleece. Really, I don't need anything more.
Of course I will miss this little face:
But he will be in good hands, getting lots of little doggie snacks and belly rubs and play time with his stinky duck. Now, I must be off to bed, I have to get through my biography of Elizabeth I before I move onto the story of Mary Stuart and the "mysterious" murder of her asshole husband, Lord Darnley. This stuff is better than soap operas!
Oh, no word from my new boss on the possibility of changing my start date. Looks like Europe may have to wait....
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
So sorry!
Have you missed me? I am a horribly neglectful bloggie friend.
First, it's official, I've given notice at Old Job and accepted New Job. So good-bye oncology ICU, hello pediatric ICU! I'm so super excited and scared to death and a bit sad and a lot nervous. But overall, it feels like the right thing and the right time to be doing this.
I have ten shifts left at Old Job, and suddenly last night decided it might be nice to hop over to Europe in between jobs, to treat myself and rest and rejuvenate my spirit, etc. So I'm attempting to get my start date moved back by a week, which would give me 12 days off. I'm leaning towards a brief but juicy tour of Budapest and Prague, although Amsterdam and Paris is a close second. But I've always wanted to go to Glasgow and tour the art and architecture of Charles Rennie Mackintosh. Plus the Scots are just awesome people. Then there's always the idea of just flying into London or Manchester, renting a car, and spending a week touring cold drafty castles during the day and sitting in warm toasty pubs with E at night, eating a lot of fish and chips and laughing our arses off at Dawson's Creek. Any ideas/suggestions? Of course this is all dependent on getting my start date moved and scraping together a small pile of cash...
Boys and dates in general, super lame. I'm tired of all the weirdos. And metrosexuals? You all need your own dating website. Or least you must identify yourself as such on your profiles. Because nothing makes me want to flee the restaurant faster then seeing you and the hair-with-product in it and your casual-yet-expensive jacket and your twitchy too-small hands. Somehow, not attractive. Give me mismatched flannel and endearingly out of place hair, along with big man hands, any day.
First, it's official, I've given notice at Old Job and accepted New Job. So good-bye oncology ICU, hello pediatric ICU! I'm so super excited and scared to death and a bit sad and a lot nervous. But overall, it feels like the right thing and the right time to be doing this.
I have ten shifts left at Old Job, and suddenly last night decided it might be nice to hop over to Europe in between jobs, to treat myself and rest and rejuvenate my spirit, etc. So I'm attempting to get my start date moved back by a week, which would give me 12 days off. I'm leaning towards a brief but juicy tour of Budapest and Prague, although Amsterdam and Paris is a close second. But I've always wanted to go to Glasgow and tour the art and architecture of Charles Rennie Mackintosh. Plus the Scots are just awesome people. Then there's always the idea of just flying into London or Manchester, renting a car, and spending a week touring cold drafty castles during the day and sitting in warm toasty pubs with E at night, eating a lot of fish and chips and laughing our arses off at Dawson's Creek. Any ideas/suggestions? Of course this is all dependent on getting my start date moved and scraping together a small pile of cash...
Boys and dates in general, super lame. I'm tired of all the weirdos. And metrosexuals? You all need your own dating website. Or least you must identify yourself as such on your profiles. Because nothing makes me want to flee the restaurant faster then seeing you and the hair-with-product in it and your casual-yet-expensive jacket and your twitchy too-small hands. Somehow, not attractive. Give me mismatched flannel and endearingly out of place hair, along with big man hands, any day.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
Change of Shift
It's up, it's official, the new Change of Shift over at Emergiblog. Head on over to read bits and bobs from the inner workings of nurse's minds, it's not for the faint of heart, but it is truly engrossing :) And of course, there's a little something from yours truly...
OH! I got to go to the morgue last night! These next 16 shifts will be filled with "I've always wanted to...". When the guy (totally blanking on his job title) came to pick up the body in room 34 (who was also a daddy, a son, a husband, a victim of a horrible disease, but mostly a really awesome guy, but I'm sure HIPAA prefers I just call him the body...) I helped him roll the black-shrouded 'mystery' cart downstairs. Then I helped him attach chains to sling under the white-plastic zipped up body-shaped parcel, attach the chains to the hydradaulic lift, raise the body off the cart, drop it down onto another stainless steel 'stretcher' and roll on into the refridgerated compartment. He then slammed the door shut, taped a stamped name-sticker to the door, and that was that. Full circle.
OH! I got to go to the morgue last night! These next 16 shifts will be filled with "I've always wanted to...". When the guy (totally blanking on his job title) came to pick up the body in room 34 (who was also a daddy, a son, a husband, a victim of a horrible disease, but mostly a really awesome guy, but I'm sure HIPAA prefers I just call him the body...) I helped him roll the black-shrouded 'mystery' cart downstairs. Then I helped him attach chains to sling under the white-plastic zipped up body-shaped parcel, attach the chains to the hydradaulic lift, raise the body off the cart, drop it down onto another stainless steel 'stretcher' and roll on into the refridgerated compartment. He then slammed the door shut, taped a stamped name-sticker to the door, and that was that. Full circle.
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