Two months since an update… Hmm. I'm not sure where to begin. I can't cover that much news in one shot. Well, I could, but quite honestly, the details are rather nonexistent. I'll cover the best (and worst) parts, as usual.
I'd always referred to my PA home as Mount Misery. It was a term of endearment that that we used for the entire 11 years that we lived there. We moved to North Carolina on August 10. We now live in a small, rural community called, I'm not kidding, Pleasant Garden. It's on the map somewhere between Greensboro and BFE. But it's nice. And quiet, for the most part. Except for when the donkeys on the farm next door begin their "hee-haw" noises in the middle of the night. Or the wake of the afternoon. Let's face it — the damned donkeys never shut up. The horses are nice, though. My daughter is in horsie heaven. I have bought more carrots than I can count…
I am a cardiac nurse these days, too. The orientation process is getting to me, I have to admit. We all go through it, I know. It wouldn't be too bad if I wasn't constantly in some class or another. EKG classes, IV tips classes, graduate assistance classes, etc. I have taken assessment after freaking assessment in the past 3 weeks. I see no end in sight, unfortunately. Not for a little while, anyway.
The "real" nursing job is going well. Patients seem to like me. And I like them, for the most part. I have seen some interesting junk in the past month.
I didn't know it was possible to have a staph infection on your spinal cord… Or to have a total anatomical uh-oh and have your butthole on your back.
Nope, not kidding. I wasn't prepared for that one. I thoroughly admit that…
I spend the whole of my nursing mornings assessing patients, checking off orders, and giving insulin. Jesus, Mary and JoJo — everybody and their granny has diabetes… I won't go into the whole issue of bariatrics at the moment. Let's just say that it's a rare occurrence these days when a patient weighs less than 250 lbs… Could there be a link between the whole cardiac/insulin/butt-hole-on-the-back problem? Maybe. Time will tell.
And that's all I have at the moment, really. Time. I work three 12.5 hour shifts a week. Those shifts fly by on wings of coffee, a full bladder, and of course, insulin. On my days off I usually end up cleaning… or sleeping. The kids are in school again, and life has resumed its semi-normal stroll. I still get lost on the road occasionally; I have intentionally turned off the GPS and have vowed to figure out my new surroundings on my own.
I've made it back to the house every evening, so it's all good.
I miss Mount Misery a little here and there, especially on my days off. But it's getting better with each passing week. Pleasant Garden is a very… pleasant… place to be. For now, anyway. We've had good days. We've had great days. The bad days are few and far between.
But then again, maybe how we perceive life is most of the battle. I've always been super optimistic. Still am.
After all, if your butthole is in the right place, the rest is pie…