The Universe Waving Hello

Most of the time we stumble along, passing from moment to moment with no real sense of connection, of plot or even greater meaning. But once in a while circumstances line up, and work out just so, giving a moment's wonder "could there be something out there, keeping track of everything, planning each exact second in time"

I walked into work last week for a day shift. Day shifts are not my forte. Usually, I get to bed at a reasonable hour, then proceed to toss, turn and varyingly study the inside of my eyelids, or the course stippled ceiling in our bedroom. Very low steam is the gauge at which I entered the day.

It was busy.

It is always busy.

The baby having business will never crash, unless we experience some Children of Men phenomenon.

I started the day with two patients, early labour, each one a name in a famous bookstore. The chuckle I got out of that would be my only one that day.

One patient (we'll call her Mrs. Q) immediately proved to be more needy than the other one. Okay. I can handle that. Something was not quite right though. It started with her seeming extra modest regarding her body. Except for the minimum required touching, she did not want me near her. Then, when she got up to go to the bathroom she asked that I wait outside, and that her husband help her up. This was not a cultural request, but I agreed anyway, stating as I left that at some point we would have to become a little more "familiar". Next, her husband wanted to do all sorts of my work for me. He wanted to hook up the nitrous - I told him no. Whenever I left the room he would adjust the fetal heart monitor...incorrectly. He kept telling me "you go sit down, I can do it". I eventually had to ask him to stop that, due to the fact that he kept picking up maternal heart rate, and really, it is my job to monitor mom and baby, and his job to support her through this time.

So the day went.

She received the epidural she requested, after several hours of waiting for the anesthetist to get out of back to back emergency caesareans. She didn't seem to understand the necessity and urgency of the other deliveries. I can understand that when you're in pain, your sense of compassion dwindles somewhat.

Post epidural brady = case room delivery + shoulder dystocia + grumpy doc

Baby's arm had to be broken on the way out. This was probably the worst time I've ever had to restart an IV. In retrospect, I should be thankful she had veins. The sound from the arm breaking could only match the mom's facial expression in disgust.

It was a very trying delivery. Baby was fine in the end, other than the broken arm which will heal.

Mom immediately started to obsess over her weight.

It was not a family I bonded with very well.

When we got back to the low risk side, I did her recovery fairly quietly. I felt overstressed and frustrated to say the least. The whole situation escalated more than it should have, and more than I can state in words here.

I went for my break, and was called back early for an imminent delivery. Such is life, not on the schedule of a nurse who would just like to eat and decompress. Heading to the room, I pictured in my mind the glass of wine that I would consume when I made it home.

The delivery was very very low key. One minute mom tells us she needs to push, the next baby is out and crying. No big deal. Healthy, happy baby and mom.

As I'm getting mom, baby and the room cleaned up, visitors start to arrive. One looks extra familiar. It turns out she works at St.B in the labour and delivery ward....and in that instant I am taken back to my very first delivery.

I was 18 years old, in my second year of nursing, first semester. The first week of any rotation I ever had was at the St Boniface L&D ward. I arrived, keen to begin and nervous as hell in my white scrubs. I had never been in a hospital, except when my Grandpa had died a few years earlier. I was assigned to a patient who was just about to begin the final stage of labour: pushing. I got in the room and the nurse asked me to hang an IV bag: I looked at her blankly.
The mom had the baby fairly quickly, and with little fuss. It was her first baby, a boy: David.

It's amazing how much you can remember in the span of an instant.

Anyway, I was floored, not only for remembering all of this, but also for the fact that just when I was feeling less than competent as a nurse, very lousy and tired of ALL of this - the universe handed me something so significant. It reminded me how much I've learned in the span of just four years, and how I've gone from someone who has zero skills in this department, to one who has many - both scientific and psychological. It reminded me how miraculous birth is, and how sacred it can be to anyone involved, and that sometimes, people are just being people.

At that precise time, it was exactly the pick me up I needed.

I felt like the universe was waving hello, to let me know it hadn't forgotten me. And it felt wonderful.

The Itch

I've caught some sort of midwinter itch. It makes me ambitious, want to take on more, challenge myself in some way. Perhaps I'll apply for that casual position at the women's health centre on graham. My skills at work could use some building, but at the point I'm at they'd probably choose other people to train further first. ... Or maybe I simply need some stimulation of the mind. A class at university...literature maybe.
So hard to make up my mind.

So much time and so indecisive in its use.

I wish I still wrote, but I don't feel inspired the way I used to. Watching James write is refreshing, but at the same time it brings a twinge of envy that he can bring all these ideas to life on paper while my mind sits, stale as month old bread. It's only a matter of time before mold turns it rancid.

I've stopped worrying about accomplishing set goals of life in predetermined time frames. But now and then I wonder where I'll be in five years. Mostly I just want to use my time well.

That brings me back to the beginning. I have an itch, and it needs scratching.

Surprised

At how easily one can make peace with another one that we have had arguments with.................................... it was very easy. I missed her so much. Is that bad? Or wrong? I don't know. I really don't. It wasn't the first hug, but the second that meant the most..... she understood what I was saying about my work and the certain job quirks. Her hug almost made me cry.

If sex is a weapon...

I just can't seem to keep my calm temperment today. There is no rhyme or reason but something is brewing under the surface and it's only a matter of time before

SMASH! BOOM! POW!

I need to get this rant off my chest

I feel like a rant storm is cooking up just under the surface of my skin. It's probably best to get it out before I go to work.

The last night at work I had (Sunday night) was a tough one. I received a threat of a lawsuit from a patient's partner. That I managed to handle well enough (told the guy he needed to smarten up, start putting his partner and baby first and to stop threatening the nurses). It was actually a big moment in my life, I'd never told someone off like that before. I was so shaky after, but I saw out the delivery and he apologized after, and thanked me. Viva la birth.

The part that's been bothering me is that one of my co-workers was in a real bitch of a mood. I'd avoided her pretty effectively, until she went to go empty the laundry in the room I'd just had the delivery in. Normally I don't overpack the laundry, but this one time the woman was terrified of blood, so I did it as a temporary fix while I went to go chart about the lawsuit incident. She came out to the desk and snapped at me, not only in front of everyone but quite rudely. I didn't know what to say, other than that I wasn't done in the room (as a point of reference, earlier I had put a different patient's chart aside, asking that it not be gutted yet since I wasn't done with it: she gutted it, and I didn't say a word, just went around searching for the stuff I needed).
So I went and dealt with that laundry stuff. Later in the night I attempted to take some of her workload: I got epidural papers ready for myself etc etc. But that still wasn't enough. I had made popcorn earlier for everyone. I find it helps to have a snack at 3am for everyone to perk up a little bit and make it over that hump. And popcorn is snack-y and healthy. Well apparently when my break was over and I was no where around, someone finished the popcorn. But because I had made it it was MY responsibility. I could hear her bitching about how "that girl's really on my bad list tonight"
Fuck women are catty. Working in an environment with mostly women is a shock to my system. Most of my friends are men, and the few women I am close with have proven themselves not ruled by hormones.

Anyway, when I expressed my discontent to one of my co-workers, they said "she's having a bad night I think" and I said "that gives no reason for her to take it out on me like this". Apparently it had been her birthday in the evening and no one had remembered, or bought a card or brought food.
Well guess what? BOO FUCKING HOO. Only one person brought anything for my birthday, and I was pleasantly surprised. I don't EXPECT my birthday to be made a big deal of. We're at work, not some perpetual party. And if she didn't tell anyone ahead of time, how are we to know that it was her birthday? I didn't receive a card, or the usual potluck dinner we do for most birthdays.

Well I got home monday morning, had my glass of wine and settled into bed with cartoons when my phone rang. Work. I ignored it. The voicemail message said "Kristen apparently you're working with us wednesday night, and everyone forgot ____'s birthday last night so we're going to do a potluck, so if you could bring something that would be great" I could have screamed, but didn't want to wake James.

So now if I don't bring something I'M the bitch. Well I'll probably eat the food so I'm bringing stuff to make smoothies. It's minimal effort. And behind the smoothie is a large fuck you to this woman. The worst part is normally we get along great. I know she's a hard worker and most of the time very nice. And yes, everyone is allowed a bad day. There was just no reason to take it out on other people. Keep your bad day to yourself, or talk about it.

And now I have to get ready to head in.

230 AM rambles

At work, quick break. I was reading through my older posts, and was impressed by my articulation at that time. I felt like maybe I should continue to practice articulating my thoughts.

I've been at work exactly one year on January 15, and while I've gotten better and more confident in many things, there is still so much to learn.

Home life is amazing, living with James is great. We work enough different shifts that we get time to do things on our own, but we take care of each other well. I love that man so much, our relationship has evolved to a really gentle pillow feather kind of love, with the odd amount of spice tucked in with it. I still get butterflies in my stomach each and every time he holds my hand, and we have yet to run out of things to say to each other.

I've learned how to make candles in the last year, and how to paint. I plan on polishing those skills this year, as well as progressing my cooking skills. I experiment almost weekly, but I'd like to develop that a little more. The last thing I'd like to improve is my ear for music: specifically to listen to an album and really understand it, really deeply hear it. I too often just have music as a background, and I'd prefer to bring it to the foreground.

I went to Cuba from December 27 to January 3 with my family. It was a great experience, one I'll never forget. I love being in a new country, the exhilaration the sense of exploration and adventure.

Anywho. We just made smoothies here, so I'm going to go enjoy that.

Long live living, if living can be this.

Summer Cusp

I'm buzzing with the excitement of being on the cusp of summer. The gun hasn't yet gone off for the race, but I've warmed up, stretched and am in position. This summer has a wonderful preview, and every moment I am enjoying. Even the ones at work, in their own way.

The anticipation is palpable and I can't stop grinning. It's a wonderful feeling.