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.