GreenSunflower

Dear "Tom"

You left this comment on my blog

How's the Hashimoto's? Isn't it dangerous to be on PTU and get pregnant?

I am deeply flattered by your concern for my well being.  I have hypothyroidism.  Therefore I take thyroid replacement hormone, not a radioactive substance that kills what would, in the case of PTU be an hyperactive thyroid.

Not taking my levoxyl would be far more detrimental to my fertility and a growing fetus, than taking it. 

Again thanks for keeping me on my toes. I wouldn't want to forget to research a drug, that I will take my entire pregnancy.

I'm Back

After a much needed break, and a few emails stating how much I was missed, I am back.

During my time away, I wasn't really depressed, just making changes in life.

I am transferring to the emergency department where I work, and am really excited for a new change.

I am 8 days post ovulation and our baby dancing timing looks good, so it is possible I could be pregnant this month.

Babe and I are going to Hawaii in a short 24 days.

I am sure there will be more to say, but I just wanted to say I am here again.

Why, Oh Why

Why must managers take things so personally and retaliate? 

Why must I be so sensitive to feedback from someone with whom I have little invested?

Why must I cry when people think I do something, I did not?

Why must I want to be a nurse?

Why must I feel so overwhelmed by inappropriate criticism?

PSA For Morons Like Me

If you take 200mg of Prov1g1l, do not forget you took it and then have a triple latte, and some green tea. But if you do, pray you have At1van too, because you will need it.

Broken Dreams and Crushed Spirits

If you have been reading my blog for a while, you know that in nursing school, two things happened.  I was in love with nursing, I could see nothing more wonderful than being a nurse, and I was at the head of my class.

I still love the idea of nursing and actually giving patient care.  I love my babies, toddlers, kiddos, and teenagers.  I love their families.  I love that everyday I get to do something to save a life.

But nursing in reality, is something very different than the fluffy clouds they show you in books and nursing school.  In reality you are working with people. People who have a sometimes painful job, people who are insecure (as many people are), people who need to fit in, basically humans.

Once you add that negative human element, not just the caretaking role, you get something different than expected.

These people get jaded after a fairly short time, and before long they are playing favorites, speaking badly of people, and excluding whoever it makes them feel better to exclude.

Then a little bright eyed bushy tailed nurse, who was at the head of her class and shows promise shows up. She might be a little dark, but on the whole she loves nursing.  She has a nice husband, a sweet dog, she is smart, OK looking, and has her shit together.

From that point the profession as an individual and a whole decides to bring you to your knees and tear your bleeding tender heart out of your body, such that you are ready to  leave the profession and never look back.  A profession you desired more than life itself the entire time you were in nursing school.

It will make you feel like you are ready to be a cooking, cleaning, dilettante housewife.  It will make you ready to abandon your dreams and never dream again.

That is where I am.  Ready to quit.  Ready to involute and never make myself so vulnerable as to dream again.

The Month's Over As Far As Baby Making Is Concerned

So after three jaunts in the bedroom right around my fertile time, I have successfully ovulated and now we can stop having sex until my next fertile period.  If that comes.  And I have to say thank god.  My lower back is hurts, and Babe's shoulders are sore.  We are too decrepit to be having this much sex.

Insecurity

I am at the point with work, where I don't know if I am just insecure and miserable because of how sensitive it makes me, or if work really is that bad. 

Tuesday night was kind of a last straw for me.  My immediate supervisor called me into her office.  I knew it wasn't going to be positive because she never sees the need to tell someone they did something positive, only when they have done something negative and though, most negative things that happen in the unit are the result of a cumulative and multidisciplinary process, they need to blame someone, this time it was me.

A month and a half ago, I had a patient for an hour in my care.  He was stable while I had him, but busy.  I didn't chart very much because I had him for a very short period of time.  I was never trained that I had to do some specific type of charting so I didn't do that.  Well I gave a scattered report to the oncoming nurse because I had gotten little report on the patient myself and only had him an hour.  The patient happened to crump but not expire that night.

My supervisor brought all of this attention. As if my lack of charting was the reason a critically ill child had a rough night.  She made it very clear that she was looking to blame me.  I could identify many places where a lot of people could have maybe made a bad mistake or a judgment that in retrospect wasn't the best.  She told me she had not gotten back to me until a month and a half later because she had to investigate the situation so she could present it to me.

Why wasn't I part of the investigation if it is really done with the purpose of us all improving our care?  It wasn't, it was figuring out how to solidly blame me, without asking me any questions during a time when I would be able to remember enough to defend myself.

I came home ready to quit.  Ready to quit because my management doesn't support new nurses constructively and because I must be a horrible nurse because I took care of my patient instead of charting.

Then insecurity hits.  And I hate that my job makes me feel insecure rather than confident, because it seeps into other parts of my life.  It makes me feel like a failure, and when you think like a failure, you will fail and I hate that too, because if you do fail, you really do feel like a failure and it cascades from there.

The good news is I am fertile right now, and Babe and I have been having well timed sex. 

I have an appointment with a counselor to talk about the drama at work.

Dear Babe: re: 31 years old

Yesterday I wanted to write this blog post to you, but alas we were too busy having a great time as a family, so I thought I would put it off until today.  Now you lay sleeping off a day and night of fun, so I have time.

You know last night when we got home and you thanked me for being such a trooper to give you an awesome birthday.  That is exactly why I love you.

Other men may think it is only my duty as your wife to make your birthday fun, and there is no need to thank for something I am required to do.

That is not you.  You know I have limitations, and only on very special occasions do I push myself past them, and only for very special people.  You knew I woke up at 10, got out of the house by eleven, showed you an awesome day in the city, then took you to awesome food, before I crashed hard at about midnight.  You knew since I did this for you, that makes you an extremely special person.  Because really there is probably no other person on this earth I would be willing to do it for. 

I often tell people you are a saint. I also tell them how you tell me my mouth smells like a goat, always complain about my weight (no matter what I weigh), and how you think I am a horrible housekeeper.  These things are annoying, but so small in the grand scheme of things.  In the grand scheme of how wonderful you are to me.

We always talk about my depression when we talk about how wonderful you are.  You can kick depression's ass.  I fret that there will ever come a day you are here to kick the evil bugger's ass with me.  I know it will be a much tougher fight.

But then there is the way you make me feel like a queen on a throne.  I don't know many other women who are spoiled like me.  Whether it is nice dinners, three day weekends, outrageous holiday gifts, or just wonderful in between holiday gifts, you always make me feel like you think of me every second you are out.  I am reminded each time you buy me something as dorky as a CF card, how you think of me and my passions whenever you are anywhere.  Who does that?  A husband who loves his wife more than any other thing in the world. 

There are the times when you make me feel like we are a real family, you, me, and The Boogs.  We go places together, love each other, spoil each other, hug and cuddle each other, complain about each other, and huff and puff our way to familydom.  We fit together better than any three puzzle pieces I have ever met.  You are a big part of why that happens.  Why we all feel so close and loved.  You love both of us like tomorrow will never come each and every day.

I love you Babe. I know that 31 will be even kinder to you than 30.  I know because even though your hair has receded a little bit and is a little grayer, you are sexier than you have ever been.  Each day makes you wiser, more loving, and kinder than the day before.

I love you, I love us,

Booger

My Life In ESL

Courtesy of Babe, while going to sleep for the night:

Why does your mouth smell like a goat?

Uh-Oh

I just ate a bowl of ice cream... then half a jar of cornichons.