Help Wanted.

Looking back on my life, I can say I have always been quick to cry when I'm pissed. I'm not sure why this occurs, other than the build up of rage inside me...knowing I can't do much more than this...as I'm not the type of person to hurt anyone else.

This is something I must overcome. Is there some pill that can make me a callous bitch? If so I'll take a gross.

Work has taken such a toll on my life and I must do something to fix it...or I'll lose the most important things I cherish...myself and the ones I love...who hate to hear me recanting my horrible experiences. I have questioned nursing as my calling more in the past few months than I have ever questioned any decision I've ever made. Have I made a mistake, despite the fact my patients love the care I provide?

I keep reminding myself I only have 82 or so more days to fulfill with no write-ups...although, I'm quite positive my boss won't let that happen. I think that means that my freedom will come around January 22nd 2010 or so...is it worth it to stay miserable for the next 5 months and 3 weeks? I mean as it stands, I can't even sleep if I know I have to work the next day.

Here's hoping I win the lottery...even though I rarely buy tickets....

-Gray

Garden of Knowledge.

I had this "garden"...if you will. A row of 11 pots, each with a different plant, that lined my outdoor patio area. I made sure all of them were full sunlight plants. My only responsibility was to water them...and water them I did. Unfortunately, my experience has been far less than Utopian. However, this experience has reinforced the fact that sometimes life doesn't give you exactly what you want, but some obscure metaphor for what you need.

The ridiculous Louisiana heat has been further complicated by the drought-like conditions. Some of my precious plants have just died all together, despite my extreme attempts to keep them hydrated. And even though I knew the others would probably be dead in a few days or so, I kept watering them...just hoping I could save them. But nothing was changing, other than the temperature...getting hotter, of course.

It took me a while, but I finally stopped watering the plants that were obviously dead. What good was it possibly going to do? I kept watering the ones who showed some sign of life, and hoped for the best.

Last night, I was ready to give up on almost all of the plants that had survived this far. However, I was distracted by a good friend and neighbor. It was a good thing that she distracted me with some words of wisdom and insight into my problems at work. As I raged on about how I'm just too giving and too kind to people who don't deserve it, I realized I was doing the same with my plants. I realized that I have to be more like myself as a gardener when I'm at work. I have to know that I have to give up on some of my cohorts and just keep doing what I'm doing to the best of my ability. Otherwise I'll sacrifice the ones who don't deserve it. And this, for me, is much easier said than done. But as I told my confidant, it is no longer a choice, it is necessary for me to do this in order to have a more harmonious workplace. Acting instead of reacting.

This morning I woke up and to my surprise, there were new buds in 3 of the pots.
So it made me question the topics of my conversation I had last night. Should I really give up on those people who seem to make my life a living hell? Or do I keep trying? And by trying I mean being respectful, going out of my way for, and helping at every opportunity. Am I sacrificing my own morals and judgment by ignoring intolerant aspects of my life?

The questions that filled my mind were complex and complicated, yet the answer came easily. I revisited my "garden" and the answer was clear and simple. And remembering a saying I often heard my mother say during my childhood, I decided to "cut my losses and move on".

-Gray

Math Skills.

OK. So I'm the type of person who tries to follow all the rules to the best of my ability. Especially at work...I don't want to give my boss or anyone else a reason. But lately, it seems like if they don't have one, they'll find one.

One of my coworkers and the beast of a charge nurse on the floor were talking a few feet away from me. It was an open conversation and I was confused, so I tried to clarify my misunderstanding by asking the charge nurse what the protocol was. Here's how it went:

Nurse 1: I took a verbal order from Dr. X for blah blah blah.
Beast: OK, just write it down.
Me: Can we take verbal orders now? (truly confused)
Beast: No. We're just covering her a**. You know better than that. Why do you ask stupid questions? Is it because you think you're better than the other nurses? Well, let me tell you, you're not.
Me: Actually, things change pretty quickly here and I think you know that I've had my a** chewed for doing the same thing even after I phoned the doctor to make the order official as a telephone order, which technically would have covered my a** in the first place. So I was wondering if the protocol changed and I had not realized it. I wanted to make sure that I was up to date on our protocols. And I think you know me well enough by now to know that I don't think I'm better than anyone here or anywhere else. I don't ask questions for any other purpose than to make sure that I'm not making a mistake.


And I walked off.

Why is it that I can try to the best of my ability to do by job by the book, as I'm held to, yet others don't have to? I try to keep my head down and simply...clock in, do my job, and clock out. I take my job seriously, I treat my patients better than most of my cohorts, have been nominated for the presidents award on multiple occasions in my short tenure of 7 months. Why is it that I get written up more than any other new employee, yet have made less errors, never called in, picked up extra shifts because the unit needed an extra nurse, stayed late and clocked in early.

Despite trying to keep to myself, I am still pulled into some kind of drama. What's the deal? I am just trying to get through another 89 days without being written up for anything...then hopefully I can transfer to another unit. I love the hospital I work for, just hate the unit. I am beginning to loathe my job, and I promised myself I never would...no matter what I had to do to prevent it.

I know that one of my "downfalls" is that I take other people's situations into consideration. Like tonight, a doctor called in discharge orders for a patient at shift change. I could have been a total b**ch of a nurse and left it for the night nurse. But no...I can't do that. I worked on the d/c paperwork while she assessed the patients and set up everything to get this patient out...from removing the Foley, iv and telemetry monitor to calling the social worker and calling an ambulance for transport to her residence. It's just the type of person I am.

So because of the fact that I respect others and treat others like I would like to be treated, I get screwed over constantly...how the heck does 2+2=1???? Someone please tell me...because the last time I checked, I was pretty amazing at math.

-Gray

No, No, Bad Girlfriend!

When I moved into my first real apartment by myself, nearly half a year ago, I had most of the essentials. Since then, I have been working on the decor. Sometimes my boyfriend comes over and all the furniture has been rearranged...a discovery that no longer surprises him.

Usually I find great deals because I am too frugal to spend my hard owned money on something that I don't absolutely fall in love with immediately. I was out shopping this weekend while he (the boyfriend) was sleeping, as he got off work at 7 a.m. I tried to say busy as long as I could so he could enjoy the peace and quiet of my apartment. However, my endeavors were not as rewarding as I expected.

At the 5th store, I found an amazing piece of wall decor that would go perfectly on one of my blank walls. I just had to have it. As always, the artwork was in the very back of the store, and this would not have been a problem if it were a manageable size. I lugged it through the store and waited in the long check-out line, struggling with it every time the line moved. I put it in the front seat of my truck and drive home.

Since the boyfriend was in a deep hibernation...but more the fact that I'm impatient, I decide to hang it immediately. I find a stud and start nailing.

My sweetheart awakens (somewhat) and stumbles to find me atop the dining room table. Oops.

"Are you nailing something into the wall," he asks.

"Of course not," I say sarcastically, hoping he won't be mad.

I feel so bad because he's so groggy, he probably believes me.

He turns and goes back to bed and I finish hanging my new prize. Although I feel bad, I just have to chuckle. He must really love me. I'm one lucky lady.

-Gray