Adventures in Nursing

     Anyone here who is also friends with me on Facebook, knows I have been working not only for the VA, but, moonlighting on the side as an Agency Nurse. I am not quite sure what I think about that term. I feel like it should make me feel either really really cool, or, like I should be ashamed to announce that I am from "The Agency". I haven't decided.
     Anyhow, usually on Thursdays or Fridays, I receive a call from The Agency I work for, letting me know I have work, and where I am to report to, for that particular weekend. And, I have found that, working for an agency is slightly terrifying.
     Most of the jobs I end up with are somewhere in the Buffalo area. Several have been in some not so wonderful neighborhoods. Cell phone law? Speeding? HA! The Buffalo PD has no time for that nonsense. Unless you are waving a pistol, dealing drugs from your trunk, or actively chasing someone with a machete, you are probably not going to be bothered, as you attempt to find your way to wherever you must be, using some inventive driving skills.
     The other day, right across the road from where I was to report, was 4 police cars with the lights on, and an unmarked car, also with flashing lights. Official looking people were standing all around, inside the circle of cars, looking solemn. Well hell. I park across the road from the building I was to report to; in the very dark very deserted parking lot. (Agency Nurses are not permitted to park in the regular parking lot, as per the seedy looking security officer at the desk.) And trek over to the building. I should know better by now, than to be all cheerful and optimistic. I should know that things rarely end well at this particular place. And I should know that, at some point, I am going to have to call on sources of strength I didn't know I possessed, to stay there, with a calm facade, and try like hell not to run away as fast and far as I can from this place.
     The other day was no different. I had no access to narcotics, and the nurse that needed to pull them took awhile to get them. Then handed me an entire Styrofoam cup full of assorted narcotics, which took awhile to sort out, and figure out what went where. As a patient loudly demanded his pain medication. Loudly and frequently. And then louder and more frequently. I was informed that, this patient had scheduled pain medication, and then 'as needed' pain medication. And, he wanted all of it. All the time. Preferably yesterday. And, here was an Agency nurse, with no access to the pain medication.
     By the end of the evening, after being given every last possible pain medication he could be given, the nurse who had to pull out all the narcotics for me walked into his room, where, he informed her he had a surprise for her. And chucked a urinal full of his urine, saved just for her, right at her head. Followed by a bottle of water, and his phone. All the while screaming and swearing at her, for not making sure he had his pain meds early. At which, the nurse called security, and the Buffalo PD, and the supervisor, and the family, and patient was subsequently charged with assault, and transferred to a psych facility. While the family members threatened retaliation lawsuits. All this over a relatively minor surgery recovery. And an addiction to narcotics.
       On the way out, the patient grabbed my hand, as we were surrounded by police, ambulance crew and screaming family members, and informed me I was the best nurse ever, and his problems weren't with me, and that I was a "Damn fine nurse". And then hugged me.
     As I walked out, okay, skipped quickly, and trying to make it look like I was relaxed and nonchalant, while fierce and scary, and convey I was not at all worried about walking to my truck, and could drop kick an entire gang, if need be, all I could think was, "Is this job worth it?" and, "It's kind of nice to have some excitement in my job again, since leaving the Buffalo VA." then, "I probably need a psych work up myself, for even thinking that."

All this combined made me exactly the wrong person for my older sister to drag along to a Bridal show, the next day. I had gotten home and to bed around 1 AM, and the kids were up at 5:50 AM. I had promised her I would go to the Bridal Show, to try and get ideas for her wedding next May. I was probably less than awesome. More like grouchy, honestly. And, she had failed to mention her soon to be sister in law, and 2 other people were following us to the show, as well.

"Riah. What color do you like?" She inquires, sweeping her hand in the general direction of a display of table cloths.

"Ange. It is not up to ME. It's YOUR wedding. What color do YOU like? You NEED to pick a color for this wedding!"

"Oh, I really don't care. You two" She points between myself and her soon to be sister in law. "Are going to be be the ones decorating and doing everything, and figuring everything out. YOU decide! I just want a pig roast at the end of it!"

Soon to be Sister in Law glares at me. And I glare back. "Ange!!!!" I whisper in a shriek, "What the hell do you MEAN, 'WE' are putting this together, and doing everything!!!! I haven't even MET this person until today!"

"So? You two can figure it all out."

"I don't know if we even LIKE each other! Okay. Breathe. Don't be a drama queen. Okay. Pig Roast? We could go all country. Maybe checkered table clothes, hay bale seating, candles in mason jars, denim...."

"NO!!!"

"No, what?"

"I want it to be CLASSY!"

"You want a PIG ROAST, and HEAVY METAL MUSIC!!!!"

"But classy!"

"Ummm," interrupts soon to be sister in law, "We all, including my brother, HATE her music. WE like COUNTRY music!" She glares at me.

"Yeah?" I snap back, "Well I HATE country music!"

"Yeah, so, probably we won't have a DJ or anything...." Mummers my sister.

"You just entered several door prize giveaways for DJ's" I pointed out.

"Oh look! Ice cream carts! Wouldn't that be fun to have at the reception!" My sister heads off toward ice cream samples.

And so the show went. It was seriously awkward. And now, after some sleep, I feel all bad, about not being nicer to her soon to be sister in law. I have the ability to charm a psychotic patient, but,  not the good manners to welcome my sister's future family. Even if she DOES like Country music....
Therefore, I have resolved to play nice, and help plan a wedding that is country, casual, classy, no specific colors, but no denim, rustic but no hay bales or checkered table cloths, it needs to have fairy lights strung on a fence, heavy metal music, country music, a pig, possibly some ice cream, and help find a dress, otherwise one of the show tagalongs will make one by hand. And, do so nicely,with the future sister in law. With relatively no input from my sister, who is pretty sure she knows what she wants, but not, and, who 'just knows you will make it all perfect! PS, with help from this random person who wants to help too!'
Oh, and train for the Mudderella, which is supposed to take place the week after this blessed event. (I typed 'Blessed event' with gritted teeth. Because, I don't think I'm nearly as nice as I thought I used to be. Maybe I wasn't ever? Anyhow, I imagine I will need a full dental work up by the end of this.)

As for training for the Mudderella? Hasn't happened yet. This chest cold is still happily occupying my lungs, and more and more frequently,  breathing is a fun little challenge. I am confident it will eventually decide I am a pretty boring body, and wander away. Meanwhile, stocks in cough drops and mucinex are probably a good thing, if anyone is looking for tips....

Weepy and Tempermental

     It's been awhile. Let's see where the keyboard takes us today!

     Things have been busy around the Dick Establishment. Over the last week or so, I have been informed by a neighbor I am a lousy mother; She tripped over the kids' bike ramp, and further, does not approve of "That poor sweet little blond boy that lives here, riding a two wheeler. It is inappropriate. And the bike ramp is completely negligent, and none of these kids should be jumping it!!" Yeah well. It's been raised twice already. The ramp has been put on furlough, and The Poor Sweet Little Blond Boy is not giving up the bike. She is welcome to try....
     I did, however, make the kids take her flowers, and apologize. Neither of which was graciously received. Ah well, you can't win them all, right?

     Also, in the past week or so, I took my 12 year old to go buy a Home Coming dress. We had heard about this wonderful new place in Olean that sells dresses, and headed out, on a rare day that I didn't have to work. It was fun, but bittersweet. Where the heck did my baby go? Wasn't she just born? And, the realization hit me, that, I am done with babies! No more sippy cups, Disney princess toys, toddler dress up clothes and big plastic beaded jewelry. No more tea sets or baby dolls or baby swings or high chairs or diapers or bottles or cribs or strollers. Wow. When did this all happen?
     I sat in a velvet covered chair, in front of a dressing room, and watched this pretty young lady hesitantly peek around the curtains, and ask if I could check out her dress, or zip her up, or find more. I watched her look at herself in the mirror, only slightly shorter than I am, and wondered where time went. Now my kid is getting ready to go to her first "Real" dance, and I am almost the mother of a real, honest to goodness teenager.
     The dress was not allowed to be frilly, princess-y, ruffly, pouf-y, glittery, sequin-y, sparkly, or pink. Preferably, it needed to be camo, but, in the absence of that, it could be brown, green or orange. Which just about killed poor tag along Lexy, who is all about big, frilly, ruffly, swirly, poufy, sparkly princess dresses. In pink.
     We did find the perfect dress, in mostly brown, with teal blue satin around the waist. It was absolutely the right dress for her, and everyone was happy. (Except Lexi, who's eyes sparkled with tears she tried to hide, as she didn't get a dress.....poor kid. It'll be her turn soon enough...) Everything was perfect, including the fact that, Kaila had actually been asked to the dance by a boy. I know, I know. "WHAT?? YOU ARE LETTING YOUR 12 YEAR OLD DAUGHTER GO ON A DATE WITH A BOY??? WHAT THE HECK KIND OF MOTHER ARE YOU??!!!!!" Out of your system now? Good. You should have let me finish. Anyhow, this boy has had an on and off crush on Kaila since the 3rd grade. They rarely can think of a thing to say to each other, but, I have admire his persistence and spine. For Valentine's Day this year, he even bought her a Hallmark Valentine card. And gave it to her in person. The ENTIRE school knew, from the staff, to the student body.
     That he was able to ask her to the Home Coming is really sweet. I figured they would be extremely uncomfortable, and spend the entire 2 hours no able to talk much to each other. And think it the best night EVER.
     However, possible tragedy has occurred. The boy in question is on the school football team, and they made it to the Playoffs. Saturday night. No date for Kaila. Oh no.
     She took it like a champ though, and there is the possibility that (a) the game time may be changed, or, (b) another dance may be planned, to accommodate all the players and cheerleaders.

     The point of the story being, that, my kids are growing too quickly, I am getting old, my child is, thankfully not dramatic, and okay going, with or without a date, and my child is completely NOT a girly-girl. She was actually overheard saying she would rather be in jeans and a tee shirt, practicing with her bow in the woods. Not that they get to the woods very often. Which calls to question once more, my parenting, but, we do what we can.

     In other news, the weather around here is unsure if it wants to be hot or cold. Bearded Man has announced that the house, (which is 3.5/4ths  scraped) will probably get painted next year. The weather just is not steady enough to try it now.  Or maybe we should think about siding it. So, apologies to the neighbors, who probably talk about the trials of living next to this crazy unsightly house, with the loud children who are doing inappropriate things, like riding 2 wheelers and jumping a 5 inch wooden ramp. Please take note, however, of the corn stalks decorating the porch, and the hay bale that I tramped through my older sister's boyfriend's father's creature filled farm to procure. In scrubs and work sneakers no less. And the Mums. I have beautiful Mums this year. So, just admire the cornstalks, and please don't look at the house...

     There isn't much more excitement. I have been busy working at the VA during the week, and working for a nursing agency on the weekends. I never know where I am going to end up, or what I will be doing from one weekend to the next. It adds to the adventure, I suppose. I think it's getting to me though. I have had this chest cold for the last 3 weeks, that seems to have decided my body is a lovely property with lots of potential to grow, thus, seems to have signed a lifetime lease. Yay. That being said, this past weekend, I was tired and achy and miserable, and not in the mood to go to work. I ended up as the only nurse on a 20 bed dementia unit. And, as tough as I am, almost burst into tears. People were screaming and crying and someone had just attacked another person, and I was informed I would have to deal with the fall out from the family. I had never been to this floor, knew no one, and, one of the 2 aides I had, was new. I was tired and overwhelmed and had come to work unprofessionally stressed out, to begin with. Added to, the fact that my GPS had decided not to work, and I had gotten almost lost on the way there. Good times. However, it all went fine, everyone lived through it, including me, and eventually everyone calmed down. I did receive a message from Bearded Man, inquiring as to how my evening was going. I have to admit, I shot back a text stating that I didn't like anyone I hadn't given birth to, currently....
     The big adventure came on the drive home. Thank God my family never ever reads my Blog, because I would never live it down.... but I got lost. In Buffalo. Which is absurd, because I learned how to DRIVE in Buffalo! All the Fishers know Buffalo! But, Sunday, I got lost. Lost lost. I knew the roads, but couldn't remember where they went. It was humiliating. I could imagine my brothers all laughing at me. It was dark, I was tired, and once again, almost in tears.
     I finally found my way home, and stomped through the house, past Bearded Man, asleep in my recliner, and got ready for bed. I'm a girl. I can have the occasional weepy spell, or tantrum. I thinks it's in the female handbook someplace.

     Okay. Now that I have told you all essentially that, my neighbor thinks I'm a lousy mom, I am getting old, and, it seems, weepy and temperamental,  that I cannot drive without a GPS - and my house looks awful - I suppose I have created enough damage. Till next time!