Sunday, March 17, 2019

Pi day pie.

Happy pi day!  Only a few days late.  But it got done.  It's actually St Paddy's Day, so maybe I should have made it green somehow.

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Look who is home?  Thank goodness.  Now there is good food in the house.  Aaaannnnnddd, we careen into another week.  See you guys on the other side.

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Saturday, March 16, 2019

UCS gala, hiking, and decluttering.

This is the UCS gala Jeremy worked on Wed night - celebrating 50 years of UCS.  I was at the hospital that day and apologized for not making it but Jeremy said that I wasn't invited anyways that it was a working event for staff and not a social event.  They invited all the UCS alums and donors and Jeremy ran into June! 

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Jeremy spent a gorgeous today hiking with Vince's scout troop sans Vince.

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I asked Jeremy what I should do while he's gone camping and he said, Edda's birthday party is next week, if you could clean up the downstairs and bring up the pancake supplies, that would be great.  Our house has not been picked up in 8 months.  We do have our housekeepers come every other week, but they clean around the piles of crap.  I have not been able to clean up for the housekeepers at all.  I spent all day today clearing all the horizontal surfaces of all the crap.  There was crap from Christmas still lying around.

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Friday, March 15, 2019

Update II

I now have evidence that perhaps my gloomy mood over the past few days? weeks? have been entirely hormone driven.  I hate that about being female.  I tend to always forget that is a possibility when I'm in the terrible mood and then when everything shifts and seems OK again, I'm like - oh yea!  that's right.  I'm a girl.  F that.

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I want to give kudos to Jeremy this week.  I was at the hospital on Wed & Thursday - completely without my phone.  I've given it up, the reception is so bad on the unit and then I feel like it gets snot, puke, urine, poop, hep C, TB, HIV all over it while it's sitting there in my scrub pocket.  Vince got a stomach bug on Wed in the middle of school and Jeremy handled the whole thing with him - getting him excused, suggesting an uber home, getting him some immodium.  And then on Thursday, I had no idea Vince stayed home all day from school until I came home at 8:30 pm (which was before Jeremy got home).  Jeremy took care of it all despite having to work a gala on Wed night and meetings on Thursday night which brought him home later than me on both nights.

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For my weekend off, Jeremy is going camping this weekend for two nights, he'll be back on Sunday.  As Jeremy is the #1 adult organizer for the scout trip to Philmont this summer, he was suppose to go with Vince and the rest of the scouts for prepping for Philmont, but Vince says his stomach is still off.  I wanted to give Vince some trouble for this as he went to school today, but Jeremy told me to lay off of him.  Fine, I said.  Jeremy, as he was packing, was mumbling something about being too busy.  He had taken today as a vacation day, but a few things came up and he ended up fielding calls and working most of the day.  I'm like - you OK going camping without Vince?  He said - yeah, I wouldn't want to rush to the bathroom all the time camping, it's OK.  As soon as Jeremy left for the campout, Vince said, I have a friend coming to pick me up for a Magic the Gathering party.  I'm like - hold your horses, what?  I thought you were sick?  I put the kibosh on the Friday night party.  If you're sick, you're sick.  We are spending the evening trying to not be irritated at each other.  We managed to watch the first episode of Friends together.  It's a good show right from the start.

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I read with interest the bribing to get into, of all places, USC.  I whispered to Jeremy late on Thursday night and said - I think I could have done that (well not at USC - somewhere else.  not to knock USC or anything).  Jeremy practically lept from the bed and said - you would never, ever do that.  You would never pay someone to take the SATs for our kids or fake they played soccer.  I wasn't so sure.  All I can say is that I had no idea how strong my compulsion was (is?) for my kids to go to an elite college.  I think I've mostly let go of it now.  I had to let go of it when Edda was 3.  And I'm doing it again right now for Vince.  Honestly, it's easier to give it up knowing that it's not a meritocracy.  Jeremy laughed at me and said - it was never a meritocracy, why would you ever have think it was so?  Grad school is better.  This college thing is a compulsion or a fixation which is deeply, deeply ingrained in my psyche.  There is no other clear shortcut of saying how great of a parent one is than by saying - Yeah, he goes to Stanford.  I'm as wanting of status as the next guy.  (Notice this is all about me, nothing about my kids.  My kids have good heads on their shoulders.)  I might play it off cool, but trust me, I want it too. 

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I pulled my back lifting a patient on Sunday.  She was scrunched, sliding down in the bed or was it he?  I can't remember honestly.  I used the draw sheet to pull the patient up towards the head of the bed and I felt a muscle in the small of my back just ever so slightly ease out of its proper range of motion.  I didn't feel it much while working that shift, but I could feel it the rest of the week only when I replicated the "pulling the patient up towards the head of the bed" motion.  My charge nurse saw me stretching it out on Wed and said that I needed to go to Employee Health down in the basement an file a report.  I'm like - whatever, it's not so bad.  Then later, Jeremy said - I think you should take it seriously and report it. So I went today and filed a report.  And they told me to take some Motrin.  I'm like - I don't like taking Motrin.  I know I'm a nurse and I give medication all day, but really, I don't believe in any of it.  (well not really, I do believe in it - like I totally vaccinate my kids and myself and I believe that antibiotics work, etc. etc.)  I just believe in suffering more than relief.

Wow, this is a weird blog post.  I think it's time to stop.

Good night!

Tuesday, March 12, 2019

Update.

Gah.  Sorry, I've been overcome with one of my regular bouts of slight depression over the last little bit.  It's not so bad right now and over the years, I've discovered various coping mechanisms.  Mostly, it's that I've grown older and know that I can pretty much live through anything and even though it feels bad, it's not really that bad.  Not that I want to tempt life because now that I've said it, a tsunami will come down and drown me right at my desk.  The most effective is to get up and do something or to ignore the feelings.  The feelings almost always go away after time.  I'm not opposed to taking meds which I have done in the past, but I haven't been on them for over half a decade and I'm hoping all my CBT efforts will be good enough.  I think I can be pretty resilient or whatever, but Jeremy says my habit is to borrow trouble which I like to do. 

For example, Edda's redetermination letter for Medicaid was due in Baltimore today.  This provides Medicaid for Edda and pays for all the aftercare program and the caregivers in the house.  I'm behind on the mail and didn't open the envelope until last Thursday when I panicked and found all the paperwork and then FedExed it on Friday expecting a Monday noon delivery.  When by Monday at 12:15pm, the tracking system hadn't registered it delivered, I freaked out, called the number on the form (which went straight to voicemail and promised a call back and (surprise! not!) they haven't called back even 24 hours later) and called Jeremy in tears and told him I'd have to spend all day today driving to Baltimore to the Health Department office because I just knew no one would call me back and then at 12:30 pm, it was marked as delivered.  And then I freaked out that I had filled the form in wrong.  This is such a small thing, I think I could have handled it better (like less crying), but I'm not in a relaxed form.

I'm still having anxiety about work at the hospital.  It's not great.  It's better than before but still not fine.  I'm still getting used to everything, it'll take a long time (I'm about 100 shifts in, I think I'll need another 100 to feel good), but I'm not sure how much longer I sustain this.  The scheduling is better, I have kind of a fixed schedule - out of the 12 shifts for the next 4 weeks, 11 were on days that I had planned.  Still, on the one unexpectedly shifted day, our caregiver is out of town so Jeremy has to pick Edda up and I had to make late arrangements for her aftercare.  But the summer is a scheduling sh*tshow with both Jeremy and Vince traveling and Edda having weeks off at the beginning and end of summer and all my caregivers having weirder schedules.  It's not only the scheduling, but I'm trying to figure out how to think about the patients.  Lots of people get better, but lots of people are just kind of stabilized and then sent out into the world into their problems.  I had to discharge a person to a homeless shelter.  I feel sad for the patient with intellectual disabilities living in a group home with no one visiting.  Families find me when they are upset at their doctor for not being doctorly when I can see the bad scan or test results and they haven't seen it yet.  I became friendly to a mess of a person who everytime I walked into the room reported that he had something more distressing happen to the people he loved and later I found out he was shooting up through his IV line while we were out of the room.  These are not things I can brush off easily. 

I am doing my best to take care of myself.  Lots of sleep.  Lots of good, healthy food.  Not too many cookies.  Exercising.  Lots of hugs.  Time off from work.  I'm terrible at taking vacations - I think because I don't know how to relax and I hate spending money on fun and sometimes one needs a vacation from vacation because they can be a lot of trouble, but I'm going on vacations!  Soon!

Monday, March 11, 2019

Report, cancel, batteries.

Here's a link to an article in The Washington Post which talks about the report that Jeremy just put out. 

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I got new glasses via eyebuydirect.com.  These glasses are so nondescript that no one will even notice I'm wearing glasses.  The charge nurse unexpectedly called me early on Saturday morning to cancel me, which was a nice surprise because Saturday was Vince's actual birthday.  Though he was asleep for most of the day, I got an extra day to spend with the family at home and think about my 17 years as a mother. 

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Vince, upon turning 17, has started to do laundry.  And label his chargers.  He's growing up!

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Saturday, March 9, 2019

Vince is 17!

Happy birthday to Vince!

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Wednesday, March 6, 2019

Birthday, exercise, Nintendo switch.

This is Vince's birthday week - 17!  what the hell?  I remember being up at 3am when he was a few weeks old trying to figure out how to breastfeed him - all the pregnancy/birth hormones readjusting hourly in my body and crying and feeling terrible and sleep deprived and thinking - omg, I'm not going to be able to do this.  But here we are, lucky to celebrate together. We kicked it off with a mid-week family dinner hosted by my parents.  Vince invited a couple of pals to Urban Hot Pot.  I'm not sure his friends had a good time, but my parents certainly did as evidenced by the 17 orders of fish balls my dad had and the plateful of crab carcasses by my mother's bowl.  A little challenging for Edda - trying to keep her swinging arms away from all the pots of boiling broth.

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I'm trying to keep up my workout routine, at least on my off days.  For five years, Paul coached me in running and a bit of lifting - enough that I could run 7 miles at a good clip anytime and do couple of dips and a pull up.  I did a track workout and a long run every week, probably averaging just under 25 miles per week.  He'd email me the workouts in the beginning of the week, I'd email him what happened at the end of the week.  Even though I'd failed workouts all the time (Paul, I think, is often overly ambitious for me), I rarely missed a workout.  Every few years, I'd get a bit injured and have to pull back a few weeks or months at a time, but for the most part, it was a nice rhythm and felt good to work hard.  I had to give this up when I started working so much. I tried to keep some semblance of it up for a little while, but I'm quite tired a lot of the time.  I'm on my feet all day at the hospital - covering about 5 miles each shift and the shifts are kind of randomly scheduled, so it's hard to get a good training rhythm going.  Sometimes I feel great the day after a shift and can run ambitiously, but other days, like today - I couldn't really get going.  I've lost a bunch of my running capabilities because I'm running so much less these days, but I often still can get the feeling of a good workout even though I'm much, much slower.  Most often I get this feeling on a slight downhill stretch in the winter sun in mile 4 out of a 5 mile run or on a treadmill after a 30 min slow warm up.  One of my coworkers at the hospital is a serious lifter, so he's been nudging me to work on my squats.  My goal is 135 which is this bar I'm leaning against and then the largest plate (45 lbs) - one on each side.  Just a scooch above my bodyweight as long as I lay off the cookies.  He's like - nah - forget about 135, I think you can do 185.  Ha ha ha.  We'll see what happens.  The fun is in the trying, right? 

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Vince and his birthday present.

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