If Christmas is about giving.. why all the taking??

This year: I hate December, I find Christmas more depressing than ever, and I'm angry with God.
Earlier this month, a Worcester firefighter was taken from his family when he died in the line of duty.  He leaves behind a fiancee, who he was supposed to marry on New Year's Eve and 3 children.  Two of his kids are in the military with one serving in Afghanistan at the time of his death.
Three days ago, one of our own firefighters collapsed at home and was rushed to our emergency room, where he was pronounced dead.  He leaves behind his wife and kids.  His 2 daughters are carrying his grandkids who he will never get the chance to meet.
Yesterday afternoon, a Peabody firefighter lost his life in the line of duty.  He leaves behind a wife and 3 children.
Last night my sister deployed.  She will be out on a boat somewhere.  She will be watching and waiting.  More importantly she will be ready to perform a search and rescue when the ocean waters try to claim a life.
If Christmas is about giving, why are so many people being taken away??  Our country's finest heroes are putting their lives on the line and some are losing their lives trying to keep everyone safe, while people are running around beating each other up over toys and sneakers while Christmas shopping.  Am I the only one who finds this just a little messed up?  People are pathetic.

Canadian escape and a stop at Crazy Town

Now that the semester is over, Tony and I decided it was time for a small weekend trip somewhere.  Orginially we were going to venture to NY and pay our respects to ground zero.  For whatever reason those plans fell through and our next idea involved Niagra Falls.  Those plans fell through as well.  Third time is a charm and we decided to keep it short and sweet.  We agreed on an over night trip to Canada.  As beautiful as Canada is, this time of year it's damn cold up there.  I had forgotten about that.

(above: the view from our hotel room)

Our hotel was right around the corner from the main attraction streets.  It was a little old and rugged looking.  But it served it's purpose and gave us a place to rest our tired heads.  Our only real mission while in Sherbrooke was to find me a specific kind of yarn (that is only sold in Canada) so that I could knit some pichous.  Pichous are a kind of slipper that I found out about when  I was a little girl.  Every summer when we would go up to Canada and visit family, my Aunt Alma also took us into her big walk-in closet full of pichous and socks that she knitted herself and we were all allowed to pick out a pair or two.  Tony got his very first pair of pichous last year when my Pepere passed away.  He loves them and wears them all the time.  So he was all excited to find me this yarn so that I could make him another pair.  Missions accomplished!

On our way back home, we got stopped going through customs.  Most likely because my passport holds a picture of me with make up on and blue hair.  Lately, I look nothing like my passport picture thanks to the stress and sleep deprivation of nursing school.  We were instructed to pull the car over and step inside the building.  I'll admit, I was nervous as to why we were being stopped, yet, I couldn't think of anything that we had done wrong.  It actually was a very pleasant customs experience.  The man asked us a bunch of questions relating to any criminal history, what brought us to Canada, what do we do for a living, etc.  We informed him that neither of us had warrants out for us nor did we have a criminal background since I'm in nursing school and would be kicked out for anything like that and Tony has served nine years in the Army with an honorable discharge.  We got to talking about Tony's diesel mechanic role in the Army and the fact that he is now in school working towards an automotive degree.  The customs gentleman referred to it as gasoline mechanics.  That's when my genius brain prompted me to pipe up with, "Diesel IS gasoline.  There's no difference."  Well, the man decided he would be nice and correct me, stating that, "Diesel is NOT gasoline."  I couldn't wrap my head around that statement.  I reminded him that diesel is, in fact, purchased at gas stations.. not the mall or grocery store.  As we casually (yet politely) argued back and forth, he finally leaned over the counter towards me and said, "You know what?  I think you should stay blonde." And he began to laugh.  Yes, the man at the customs counter had just dissed me.  I found it funny.  Here is this man who plans such a professional and important role in border safety and he's cracking jokes with me.  We filled out a claims form and were sent on our way.  We were lucky enough to not have to wait around while our car was ripped apart and searched.
We made our way down to Tony's parents' neck of the woods.  I have always enjoyed the ride so much more during the day rather than at night.  It's so beautiful.

We finally arrived at Tony's parents' place (Kat and Clyde) and I was dreading having to go inside.  As you know from previous posts, Tony's brother and sister-in-law live with Kat and Clyde.  And we all know how well I get along with them.  It's like oil and water.  Being the bigger person that I am, I went inside rather than hiding out in the car.  Tony, Clyde, and myself sat down at the kitchen table.  However, when I first walked in the door, I noticed Sarah and Everett both sitting in the living room with their faces glued to their computers while their child was in the kitchen, in her highchair, eating... totally out of their eye sight.  So not safe, but I kept my mouth shut.. because according to Sarah I know nothing about kids or how to take care of them.  Knowing how mentally unstable Sarah is, I decided to keep my distance even from her kid.  At the funeral, back in October, she was furious when she saw Tony holding her daughter.. so why do I want to get myself involved in that kind of crap?? Well.. it turned into a lose-lose situation.  The little girl curiously googoo'd and gaga'd while looking at Tony and I. When Everett asked his daughter what was wrong, Sarah piped up, "I know what's wrong. There's F***ING people in the kitchen that won't F***ING acknowledege her!!"  She continued storming around the apartment, muttering and mumbling about not getting any respect.  As far as I was concerned, in no way did I disrespect her.  If she doesn't acknowledge her own kid why should I be obligated to do so?  Eventually she began yelling at Everett about how she doesn't want her kid around Tony and I.  Yet, 30 minutes prior to that statement she was complaining that we weren't paying attention to her kid, but now she doesn't want us around her kid...?? We left for a little bit to visit with Tony's grandparents until Kat got out of work.  We went back to their apartment to invite Kat and Clyde out for pizza and back to our hotel room for a movie along with some peace and quiet away from all the bickering that Sarah and Everett do.  Tony left me in the car, so we could keep it running with the heat on, while he ran up stairs to round up his mom and dad.  When he got up there, Sarah had done a 180.  She said, "Zoe, show Uncle Tony how you walk.  Go see Uncle Tony."  Wait... what?!?!?! Are you all just as confused by this??  In all honesty, the girl seriously needs to be on medication.  Next semester we will be covering psych.. if I have to write a paper it is soooo going to be on her.  She is classic bipolar.  And yet I'm still the 'bad person' for kicking the two of them out of my apartment.  Can you blame me??

Final Sim

Yesterday we went back to the clinical facility since we were given the okay to do so.  Then we got kicked out again because the norovirus is still going around.  And once again, we find out after we've had patient contact.  Go figure.

Today is final sim lab.  Two students get scheduled for a 1 hour block of time.  One student spends thirty minutes drawing a skill out of a hat and performing it in front of the lab instructor.  The other student spends thirty minutes in a "danger room" where there is a handful of things that are unsafe for the patient. Then the two students will swap places.  I'm hoping it won't be that difficult, but I suppose it will all depend on what skill I pick.  I've never been good at picking things out of a hat.. I guess one could say that I lack skill in that area.  Oh well.  There's no turning back now.  I'm just going to have to give it my all and do the very best that I possibly can.  Wish me luck.

You have to

believe deep down in your heart that you're destined to do great things

Give meds and get a hazmat

Yesterday morning was pretty fantastic.  I was the first one, in my clinical group, picked to give meds.  I was a little nervous due to the fact that my teacher had to look over my shoulder, for educational and legal reasons.  Either way, I was prepared.  We took the basket of medications, in their blister packs, into the patients room and double checked everything with the MAR.  I confidently reached for the first blister pack, which had one Plavix pill left.  I popped the package, aiming it into the medicine cup.  Epic fail!  The pill went flying across the room and onto the floor.  Urgh. Only me, right?  I kept my cool though.  It was only a pill falling onto the floor.  It's not like I killed anyone.  Pills can be replaced, people cannot.  Which is exactly what my teacher and I did after administering the rest of my patient's meds.  All in all, it was a success.

Later on in the day, we sat in a group for our clinical debriefing.  One of the staff members from the clinical facility walked in on our little meeting to inform us that we will not be allowed in the building for the rest of the week due a patient testing positive for the norovirus.  She recommended that we go home, strip down before going inside, immediately put our scrubs into the wash, and boil ourselves in a hot, hot shower.  Fantastic!  I'm praying that I didn't pick up any germs!  I can't afford to get that sick so close to the end of the semester!!  I'm holding my breath and keeping my fingers crossed!

3 Options: Go home, Go home, or Go home.

I'm thankful to not have to work this weekend, however, I have so much school work to do that I don't even know where to begin.  Speaking of work, I got sent home on Thursday.  I was told that my CNA license expired and that I couldn't return to work until I had an active license.  Of course administration waited until a code blue situation to bother me about the whole thing.  I mailed out my paper work, to the red cross, back in September knowing that my license was due to expire near the end of October.  Seeing as the red cross claimed to have never received my paper work, I had been working with an expired license for just shy of a month.  And yes, they waited until a code blue to tell me that I had to go home.  As if I, all of a sudden, didn't know how to help save a life.  I sat down with my manager and was given 3 options:

1. Fill out new paperwork, mail it out again, wait 30 days for my license and of course not be allowed to work in the mean time.
2. Fill out new paperwork, pay an arm and two legs to have it shipped over night.
3. Fill out new paperwork and personally turn it in at the red cross office in Cambridge, MA.

I can't not work for 30 days and I was certainly not about to hand over all of my appendages to pay for over night shipping.  Either way I was being sent home, so I went with the most reasonable option of driving to Cambridge and being able to walk out of the ARC office with proof in hand of my license being reactivated.
Thursday's quote of sarcasm: "Thank you American Red Cross for totally sucking at life and screwing up my day."

Birthday Girl

Yesterday I turned 27. I was told by many to enjoy the day and relax.  It seems that the older we get the more we wish for the simple things in life, such as a day of rest and relaxation.  It would've been absurd for me to wish such silly things.  Instead, I spent the first half of my day at clinical doing a review of my patient's chart.  When I got home, I was able to spend an hour with Tony before he went to work.  After he left, I did some chapter outlining, studied, and took an online exam.  Nothing too exciting nor was my day relaxing.  The best part about it all was when Tony came home from work with a cake for me.

No need for flowers though.  He surprised me with a dozen roses a couple of weeks ago when I burst into tears one morning before work.  The stress of everything had finally built up enough to break me down.  Thankfully I have a husband who refuses to watch me fall to pieces.  He always knows how to put me back together again.



Let there be light.. and heat!

One week later and I'm finally posting again. The deeper and deeper we get into the semester, the less and less time I have to blog.  However, even if I did have time to blog last weekend, I couldn't. Thanks to the lovely, non-med compliant, ridiculously bi-polar mother nature for slapping us with a nasty snow storm, while still in the month of October. We were among many to lose power due to trees being weighed down and falling on power lines. Luckily, I was able to take a hot shower at work Sunday morning and I was rather thankful for having to work a 12 hour shift in a heated building. Meanwhile, Tony was able to get his hands on a generator and my folks let us borrow a small space heater. However, we couldn't leave it running Monday so that we could go to school. The generator would've run out of gas or we feared that someone would steal it.  And I refused to let my dogs stay in the dark or the cold. If I owned 3 huskies it may have been a different story.  I let my teachers know that I was going to be absent and thankfully they understood. And finally, 53 hours after being thrown into the dark, we were turned back on. Our apartment is no longer colder than it is outside.

Relieved to be home

Tony and I went up to Maine, over the weekend, to attend the funeral for his great grandmother.  It was so nice to see his family again, although the circumstances weren't the greatest.  However, I was more than relieved to come back home.
This is a story that I don't recall ever blogging about. Last summer, we had Tony's brother and sister-in-law move in with us.  There are more job opportunities down here and we wanted to help them get up on their feet, especially since they had a baby on the way.  It was one of the biggest mistakes I ever made.  We only asked that they pitch in $100 for rent and help with the cost of groceries.  Out of the three months they spent with us, they pitched in once.  I felt bad because Everett was the only one working out of the two of them.  Sarah's statement when it came to not having a job, "I can't work. I have an excuse, I'm pregnant."  Instead, she sat around all day, every day and did absolutely nothing.  Tony and I were both in school and working (just as we are still doing) and we never had a heck of a lot of time to cook.  So we made a lot of pasta.  It's quick, easy, and cheap.  I tried to be courteous of Sarah's pregnancy related heart burn and never mixed any sauces with the pasta so she could eat it plain or put whatever she could tolerate on it.  Apparently that wasn't good enough.  She began complaining about everything I made for dinner, yet she would never take the initiative and cook anything that she wanted.  The two of them never helped with any of the dishes, except for dirtying them.  We let them use some of our towels for showers and such.  When they were done using them, they never washed them with their own laundry.  Instead, they would leave them on the bathroom floor expecting me to pick them up and wash them.  One day, they needed to do laundry and there was a load of towels still in the dryer that I didn't have a chance to bring up stairs.  One of them brought the towels up, since they needed to use the dryer, and dumped them on the couch, leaving them there for me to fold.  I waited three days to see if they would do it.  Of course they didn't.  Instead, they just pushed them around on the couch to make room so they could sit.  At one point, I had worked a Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday and went to school Monday after work.  I got home around 10pm (still in my work uniform) and both sections of the sink were over flowing with dirty dishes.  As I exhausted myself even further, doing the dishes so that I could have room to make dinner, the two of them sat on the couch, watching TV and laughing.  Never once did they even offer to help me.  They left lights on all the time, in the middle of the day.  When I explained to them that they didn't have to pay the electric bill and politely asked them to turn the lights off, I got the door slammed in my face.  If I'm not a diva in my own apartment then one else is going to be.

Around this time, last year, I snapped.  I ended up kicking them out. It was a decision that I do not regret, at all.  Since then, they have moved back up north and they still haven't apologized.  They have no problem mooching off of anyone they can and that's obvious because they currently live with Tony's parents and don't have jobs.  And somehow, according to Sarah, I'm the horrible person.  She continues to cause drama throughout Tony's family and it breaks my heart that his parents choose to put up with all the crap that we went through with then.  My thoughts on the whole thing.. Karma is one wretched bitch and what goes around comes around.  They'll get what's coming to them and I'm okay with that.

Pen15

The usual excuse.. I've been too busy or too tired to blog lately.  Someday I will come up with a new one.  Right now I'm going on day six of hanging out with my new best friend.  Her name is killer headache and she won't go away.  I've been living off Excedrin for the last week and I'm sure my liver is starting to hate me for it.

Last week, I somehow managed to take temporary ownership of the black cloud.  Between critical patients in the ER and all the codes called within the hospital, I couldn't catch a break.  I must have passed it off to someone else by Wednesday, however, the personal life black cloud continues to hover.  Tony spoke with his dad, Wednesday night, and got the news that his great grandmother passed away at age 103.  We both agree that it's really not something to be crazy upset about.  Instead, we feel that her passing warrants a celebration.  Of course we are sad that she is gone, but she lived a long, healthy (for the most part) life.

School is getting more and more interesting, now that we got bed making done and over with.  Last Friday, we spent five hours covering the topic of elimination.  In other words, we discussed peeing and pooping.  You're jealous, aren't you?  We got to talking about kidney infections and kidney stones.  I shared my husband's story of the 6mm kidney stone, he was supposed to have surgically removed but ended up peeing it out just a few hours before the surgery.  I explained, in a nutshell, what the doctor told him he was going to do in order to remove it.  I said, "The doctor told him (my husband) that he was going to go in through his junk, blast the stone, and scoop out all the pieces."  Although my teacher was laughing, she didn't approve of me using the word junk.  So she asked me, "Where was the doctor going to go in through?"  My response was, "His junk. His man piece. His goodies."  As the whole class erupted in laughter, she wouldn't leave me alone until I said. "Penis."  Technical terms just aren't my style.

Today's lecture is about medication administration.  Let's just hope that there's no possible way for me to embarass myself again.

Just Breathe

ox·y·gen [ok-si-juh'n]
noun Chemistry .

a colorless, odorless, gaseous element constituting about one-fifth of the volume of the atmosphere and present in a combined state in nature. It is the supporter of combustion in air and was the standard of atomic, combining, and molecular weights until 1961, when carbon 12 became the new standard. Symbol: O; atomic weight: 15.9994; atomic number: 8; density: 1.4290 g/l at 0°C and 760 mm pressure.

When I hear the word oxygen, I don't go digging into the depths of my brain to try and recall its atomic weight or number. I don't care how much of the atmosphere's volume it constitues, just the mere fact that it is present in the atmosphere is sufficient enough for me. I don't care about the details. All I know is that it keeps me breathing which keeps me alive.  Maslow's Hierarchy of Basic Human Needs.  Oxygen.  It doesn't get more basic than that.  If I were without oxygen, I wouldn't give a damn if I had clean water to drink or enough food to eat. Pain, of any severity, wouldn't even be an issue.  Because, without oxygen, I would be dead.

If you haven't figured it out by now, we covered oxygenation in class today.  And clearly I can't wrap my head around what we were taught: Oxygen is a medication and needs a doctor's order.

I understand that as a nurse, I just can't go around slapping a nasal cannula on any patient I damn well please. I realize that oxygen can harm people with certain pulmonary diseases. However, this is where my ER knowledge and experience will probably end up getting me in trouble when it comes to school.

Today, I stated that, "A nonrebreather is used in acute hypoxic situations. When a nasal cannula or simple mask just isn't getting the job done..." and that's when I was cut off by the teacher who reminded me that: Oxygen is a medication and needs a doctor's order. 

For the last seven and a half hours I have been trying to make sense of it all.  When I am at work and standing by a patient who starts to rapidly decompensate, that person depends on me to do something about it.  I don't tell them, "Hold on until I can find help." I would immediately put them on a nonrebreather (as long as they are still conscious), yell for help, and then let the doctor make the decisions from there.  However, I learned to do the complete opposite today.  In a nutshell, I learned that regardless of what condition the patient is in, I can't do anything about it until I can get a hold of the doctor and obtain an order to administer oxygen at a higher concentration.  So, by the time all of that is accomplished and I get back to my patient, it will be a miracle if they aren't dead.  I don't understand the logic in any of that.  Don't stress to me about Maslow and then tell me I can't make a life or death decision to give someone oxygen when it's desperately needed.  I chose to work in the medical field to help save lives.. not to be the reason that they end.

I am spirited. I am strong. I am a survivor.

During the summer, I was determined to find some decorations for our empty walls. I stumbled across the above plaque for an amazing $2 deal.  It has become one of my favorite pieces.  It has become part of my routine.  I read it every morning before I walk out the door.  My life (especially the last five years) has been quite the emotional roller coaster for me.  The 'ups' and 'downs' have helped me grow so much.  I have realized that no matter how far down the 'downs' will bring me, I will always find the strength to get back up and rise above it all.  I feel as though I have the life experiences of someone who is twice my age.  At 15 years old, death became a normal part of my life.  I experienced the first loss of a friend.  Since then, I have attended at least three funerals every year.  I was married at 21 and seeing my husband off to a war for 432 days.  Last year, I took the initiative and offered to help carry my great aunt to her final resting place.  I have helped save lives.  I have held hands with people as they took their last breath.  I have given hope to people as they walk the fine line between life and death.  I stand strong for everyone around me when all I want to do is break down and cry.

~I am spirited.  I am strong.  I am a survivor.~

Another round of three.

It has been a while since my last post, but once again it has been a busy week. Last Monday, one of my old coworkers lost her husband when he was working and fell 70-100 feet out of a tree. The next day, a current coworker lost her uncle-in-law when he took his own life. Oddly enough, he was on the same job site and saw the other man fall from the tree. On Thursday my mom decided to let me know about the right sided weakness and numbness she's been having. When I told her to go to my work and get checked out, she refused. And as she was telling me this, I was trying to study for an exam taking place the next morning.. in the same class that I got the 71 in. I was preparing myself for another epic failure with all of the distractions going on around me. However, to my surprise, I scored an 84. I'll take it.

I'm not crazy

It's rather obvious that I can't sort my thoughts out enough to be able to blog about something solid.  Things are just plain hectic for me lately.  For example, yesterday I got out of class to find out Tony had left a plate of food in the car for me so I would have something for lunch.  I didn't even bother to eat it right away.  I knew that 2pm was right around the corner which is when alot of students get out of class and head home.  There's only one parkinglot exit at the school.  So that means traffic gets backed up big time.  Well, I had stuff to do and I refused to be stuck in traffic.  So I positioned the plate on the passenger seat so that the pasta salad wouldn't go tumbling off.  I managed to eat the sandwich while on the road, and surprisingly enough I didn't spill any on me.  I had to go to Rite Aid to pick up a couple prescriptions.  So of course once I got there I didn't bother to sit for a minute and eat.  Instead, I brought the plate of food in with me.  As I proceeded to shovel the food down my throat, everyone felt the need to stare at me as they walked by.  I got the, "Wow, she must be a crazy person," kind of stares.  Did they not see the scrubs embroidered with Nashua Community College Nursing??  I'm a busy college student, people!  I have care plans to write, exams to study for, and I'm starving!  There isn't enough time in a day for me to get everything done so I do the best I can to try and make it work.  I swear I'm not crazy.  One might beg to differ on that though.  The other day I definitely tried to pour coffee into my Fiji water bottle before I started to empty the dishwasher by putting the clean dishes into the fridge.  I'm sticking to my story though.  I am a sane person who just has a lot on her mind and can't think clearly about anything unrelated to nursing... at least I hope that's the case.

I'm disappointed in me

Wow, has it really been almost one week since my last post?!  Lame excuse, but I've been busy trying to keep up with everything.  Ever since the 71 I got, on last Friday's lecture exam, I have been pushing myself to the point of exhaustion.  We had a lab exam on Tuesday, which I scored a 92 on.  However, the 71 still resides in the back of my mind.  I am disappointed in myself.  I refuse to give up though.  It's just fuel for the fire.

Aside from crappy exam scores, our hygiene projects, care plans, and outlines mixed with the 32 hour work weeks have been eating up all of my time as well as all my energy.  As much as I wanted to stay on track with my routines, I decided to let myself sleep in this morning.  Of course my idea of sleeping in on a Saturday is far different than most peoples' idea of sleeping in.  I was awake and out of bed at 7am rather than the usual 5am.  I'm crazy.  I know.

Now that you all know how horrible I'm doing in school, it's time for me to get back to studying.  Hygiene projects are being presented on Monday and we have another lecture exam on Friday.  Hopefully the next post will be a little more uplifting than this one.

I'm a Soldier's wife..

It's been a long weekend.  It's been an even longer weekend for Tony.  His PTSD has been getting to him.. luckily he's strong and he hasn't let it get the best of him.  He just can't seem to shake the bad dreams.  He talked to me in his sleep Friday night.  More specifically, he quizzed me in his sleep.  He asked me questions only I would know the answers to.  Come to find out, in his dream (or maybe nightmare is a better word) he was fighting a bunch of Iraqis.. and they were all look alikes of me.  Even in his sleep, the poor guy was afraid that the person beside him could potentially be out to get him.  He can get mad at me all he wants for sharing this, but I feel like people need to know what our military goes through.  They don't spend 14 months in a war zone and come home completely unchanged.  Everything may seem fine and dandy from the outside, but inside their mind.. life is a constant battle.  I am fortunate that his PTSD isn't as severe as it could be.  He hasn't turned into an alcoholic, he doesn't beat me, and he doesn't kick the dogs.  I'm okay with that, but he still suffers.. and that still hurts me.  Sometimes it's easier to protect people who are a physical danger to themselves.  But how do you protect someone from their own mind or subconscious??  I know when he is physically around me, he is more at ease.  However, I go to school 3 days out of the week and go to work another 3 days out of the week.. I feel like I'm not a very good wife even though I know that I am.  You can call that being conceited if you want, but a bad wife would walk away.  I haven't and I won't.

I have a bad habit of rambling before I get to my point with these damn posts.  I'm not airing our dirty laundry just for giggles.  I just want my husband to find some sort of solace in his suffering.  I want him to know that he isn't alone and there are other soldiers out there going through the same thing.. or maybe it's me that is search of solace.  If there is anyone out there going through the same things, please get in touch with me.  Please, help me help my husband.

Have mercy on us!

Holy hell am I tired!  I don't know how I managed to stay awake the past two days at work, or how I even made the drive home from work!  And now I have to sit through a few hours of lecture and then take an exam.  Oh boy am I in trouble!  I'm so sleep deprived my eyes literally hurt.  It feels like someone is inside my head, relentlessly yanking away on a noose that is wrapped tightly around each of my eyeballs.

As for this exam today.. I am beyond nervous about it.  I hate taking first exams with new teachers.  They all have such very different testing styles.  We were told it will closely resemble the layout of the NCLEX, which is nice to know, but what kinds of questions are going to be on this exam?  I have bad luck of studying what I think is important and the teachers end up putting everything that I didn't study on the exams.  With this being the first (of many) this semester, I'm hoping she will have a little bit of mercy on us!

Little things and things with long legs.

Monday evening, Tony and I had to run to the store to get some more dog food for the pups.  As we stepped outside, we startled some more unannounced guests (we get a lot of those around here).  They took off running, if that's what you call it, and paraded through the neighbor's drive away.

I found them all to be rather cute.  Tony, on the other hand, wanted to let our other neighbor know about them because he has a turkey hunting license.  I finally convinced him to just leave them alone.  Most of them were little babies.  I would've felt awful.  Yeah I know.. what do we eat at Thanksgiving?  But I don't have to sit there and watch the turkey die at Thanksgiving.

Last night, the moon was beautiful.  I couldn't help but stand there and stare at it.



The only thing that was able to distract me, was our shadows, from the front light being on.  I noticed that my shadow had the legs that I've always wished for, but will never have.  Yup, I was jealous of my own shadow.  How weird, huh?

Happy 5 Year Anniversary

‎Five years is a long time. Long enough to make plenty of mistakes, to regret things we did or didn't do, to pull through sadness and try to find happiness, to push people away, hurt the ones we love. So many things that we all wish we could go back and do differently.. Not me though. five years with my best friend isn't something I would be willing to change. Not a single moment of it.. From deployment right down to this very second. My 5 years has been the best journey of my life.



Who would've ever thought we'd make it this far?  I know plenty of people had their doubts.  And with the deployment four days later.. I'm sure we both had doubts for a split second.  Our first year of marriage was such challenge.  All the letting go we had to do.  The sleeping alone.  Constantly wondering if each other was okay.  It was hard.. really hard.  But we held it together.



I remember, so vividly, what it was like to have to let you go.  It's not something I ever want to do again, but I wouldn't change it for the world.  It made us strong.  It taught us to appreciate the true meaning of love always.

We have learned that absense makes the heart grow fonder.. but I also learned that absense rips a gaping hole in my heart.  What I like most, of the things we've learned, is that good things come to those who wait and great things come to those who wait for their true love for 432 days of heart wrenching separation.



Five years later, I'm still by your side.. and in 100 more years, I'll still be right here.  Happy anniversary to my love, my soldier, my heart, and my hero.  Happy anniversary to my wonderful husband.

Back to routine life

I was finally able to attend a study group yesterday, which was beyond helpful.  Having to work twelve hour shifts every other weekend really hinders my ability to participate in such things.  So I was more than thrilled when Robyn opened her home to all of us.
Last night, my boys decided to take turns playing their own version of 'Where's Waldo' with me.  If they could name their game, I think they would probably call it 'Mama you can't see me' or something close to that nature.

And today is the day after the ten year anniversary of 09/11.  And today we will return to normal and go about our business.. just like almost all of us did ten years ago.  The exception being New York who began picking up the pieces the next day.  The rest of us went to work, went to school, or went to wherever it was that we needed to be.  Are we the only country who does that after every disaster that touches our beautiful land?  We did it even with hurricane Irene.  Unless of course you were a part of the unfortunate ones who had pieces to pick up.  Don't get me wrong, we are huge on helping eachother clean up after any and every disaster, but we all have that "It is what it is and life goes on" kind of attitude.  We, Americans, are pretty damn strong.  It blows my mind.  I am proud to call this country my home.
It's my turn now, to return to normal, go about my business, and head off to school.

No title is necessary.

I can remember exactly where I was ten years ago.  Sitting in my Comprehensive American Studies Class.  Who doesn't remember where they were or what they were doing?  I remember the classroom I was in, the layout of the room, my teachers, and the students.  Ask anyone, of appropriate age, what they were doing on this day, ten years ago and I will put money on it that they can give exact details.  I suppose what I'm getting at is why do we need all these pictures and logos that say Never Forget?  How do you forget such a horrible thing?  We are all tied to the actual 9/11 event in one way or another, including myself.  I didn't know anyone who died that day nor was I there to see it with my own eyes.  I wasn't tied to the event until five years later when I was preparing to marry a soldier.  When the anniversary of 9/11 rolls around each year, it's the victims, the firefighters, and the police officers that are talked about.  I'm not knocking their right to be honored by any means.  However, wasn't a war declared shortly after?  What about those men and women?  I spent the first year of my marriage alone because of 9/11.  And many families have lost loved ones over seas because of 9/11.  There's been times when I have over heard people talking and one says, "Oh yeah, I forgot that there is a war going on."  I should probably make my point before this post becomes controversial.  Today, when you take a moment of silence to honor all the lives that were lost ten years ago, please take an extra moment of silence to honor our military.. those who have served in the past, those who are presently serving, and those who will serve in the future.  They don't deserve any less honor just because they did not die on 9/11/01.

It's the life of a nursing student

After three days of having to sprint to my car in the morning so I don't get soaked, I can finally take my time today.  It's not raining and I'm loving it!

More good news, med math grades were posted on blackboard yesterday and I passed!  I didn't get a 100, which naturally has me a little bummed.  However, I'm forcing myself to be positive about it, I passed it on the first try and now I can give meds during clinical.  What a relief!
Triple good news, I have the weekend off.  I'm really liking the idea of being able to sleep in.  I doubt I will though.  My brain is in overload and it wants to function 24/7.  I haven't been studying as much as I should the last couple of nights.

Yes, believe it or not, the picture above is a light load of studying.  I have so much to do and so much to prepare for, that I will probably end up being sprawled out all over the living room floor this weekend.

There's something else on my mind, as I sit here in my car, staring at the empty school parking lot.  I'm obsessed with being mega early to school.  I like to get here about an hour before class starts.  This seems to upset Tony. 

I have explained, to him, my reasons for being so early, and he still doesn't understand, which makes me upset.  I feel like he isn't grasping how important nursing school is for me.  I can't afford to be stuck in traffic and arrive late to class.  My professors are constantly stressing how vital it is that we are on time.  I need to prove my dedication to nursing school while it's still early in the semester, so that when (or if) something crucial does happen, my instructors may be a little more willing to cut me some slack.  I know that Tony is frustrated with how little time we've had to spend with eachother.  I'm always at work, at school, studying, or going to bed early due to complete exhaustion.  I have worked my butt off to get to where I'm at, and I'm not about let it slip through my fingers this far into it.  I know that this hectic schedule of mine is temporary and I have to do whatever it takes to make it through nursing school so that Tony and I can have our own family and live the life we've been dreaming of.  I just wish I could get him to understand that a little bit better.  I feel as if his frustration with me and my routine is a lack of support.  I know that's the farthest thing from the truth.  He is my biggest fan (aside from my mom of course).  I just wish he would show it a little more often.  I need his understanding and support, now, more than ever.

Exam number two.

More rain this morning.  Urgh!  This is crazy.  I guess I should be thankful that at least it's not snow, considering this is New England and anything is possible.
I was supposed to work at 7am today, but thanks to last week's hurricane and the first day of school being canceled, our ATI critical thinking test was rescheduled to today.  So now I have to drive all the way to Nashua, to be at school for an hour and a half, to take an exam that will determine if I am able to think critcally.  So in order to make up the hours I will miss at work, I will be playing secretary from 3pm-7pm.  And to make my life more difficult, I haven't had to work the desk since we upgraded the Meditech program we use for entering orders.  My whole day is going to be filled with critical thinking.  I'm so excited.. not really.
Speaking of exams, we won't know our med math test results until Friday the earliest.  I hate waiting for test grades!  I can already feel my hair starting to fall out!  However, on one of the questions, I could not remember the conversion to save my life.  I had no other choice but to make a guess.  Something is better than nothing, right?  I was beyond stressed about it, since I figured my answer would be wrong and we have to get at least nine out of ten questions correct.  And now I knew I had already got one wrong.  However, when I got to my car, I immediately pulled out my conversion chart and looked it up... my guess was correct.  I'm not sure how I pulled that one off, but I'm not going to complain about it.  Now we just have to sit back and wait until our grades are given to us.  I do feel very good about it and that scares me.  We all know, from the past, that when Stacie has a good gut feeling things usually result in the complete opposite.  I'm praying that my gut feelings in nursing school will prove to be different.  Only time will tell.

First test of the semester

I hope everyone had a wonderful Labor Day.  Unfortunately, I was stuck working twelve hour shifts all weekend as well as yesterday. 

To my disadvantage, I was too exhausted to study by the time I got home and today is our first med math test.  If we don't pass this one, we will be allowed only two more attempts.  If we don't pass any of them.. I'm pretty sure we can consider our nursing education over for this semester.  In order to give medications during our clinical rotations, we have to master med math.  I only work well under pressure when it comes to critical situations in the ER and writing last minute papers for school.  I know how important this test is, today, and I am terrified.  We have to score at least a 90% on it, which isn't very comforting when there is only ten questions.  I guess I will just have to call upon all my angels in heaven and do the best that I can.
Since it is raining this morning, and people don't know how to drive safely when it's anything but sunny out, I am going to cut this post short and head to school.

Day 2

I started my morning off in the usual way.  I don't think I need to explain that routine anymore.  All that's necessary is the beautiful morning snap shot.

Today, we learned about ambulation and mobility.  A physical therapist joined us for lab and demostrated how to move patients, get them out of bed, how to use a wheelchair, etc.  For me, this was torture.  I have been doing it for nine years now while working at the hospital.  I understand, some people have little to no healthcare experience, and they do need to learn this stuff.  My level of frustration is increasing already.  I know I will regret saying this, but, I am ready for a challenge.  Possibly due to my eagerness to learn or my determination to succeed?  Whatever the case may be, I am ready for new knowledge.
As far as the reading assignment.. it's brutal.  I have been reading my textbook outloud to the dogs.  I have even used different voices in an attempt to make it a little more interesting.  However, all three dogs fell asleep despite my attempts at being their comedic relief.

I'm starting to remind myself of my father.  Back in the day, when my sister and I were very young, my dad's idea of a bedtime story was reading his civil engineering books to us.  I'm already going crazy and it's only day two.  Sigh.