Tuesday, June 10, 2014

Bite me...

Whose confidence do you carry? Is it your own? Is it self grown or self taught? Did you observe it over time and now via osmosis you are a form of brave you think you can be proud of? There is a new beast of women out there who mimic confidence and walk assuredly in their sense of entitlement. My job is serious. I can kill someone with my mistake. I can injure someone's whole life with my careless thoughtless care. If I don't hold myself accountable, and don't appreciate those who attempt to, I will never see the importance that is my 12hr shift. I rolled my eyes at the beginning of my start at CMCD, the procedures we carry, the process of recovery, the path to transfer and so forth. Just thought many a times, "man, this pace blows, but the pay sure is nice". It took time, months even for me to appreciate why it's done the way it is. I know my role, too well, dumbing it down while being taught is something that you just do, so you can plow through someone else's idea of right in the interim of independent assignments. You "oooh", and "oh, so that's how it's done", throw in an occasional,  "wow, I don't know if I can do that", for 12 weeks or so then adopt your own experience with your new merger and start your practice. Part of my confidence comes in being honest. I've never lied to my patients. Coming from P Land, as an adult cardiac ICU nurse, if I had a man tugging at his Foley, I quickly responded with, "if you keep pulling that, your penis will stop working and you won't be able to have sex anymore". If I had a women who frequent flyered our unit for CHF exacerbation and she looked at me with sympathetic eyes as she stuffed her face with the fast food brought by her daughter, I didn't hesitate to take that away and tell her, "that's exactly what brought you back in here, you can't eat that, at least not while I'm your nurse". And now, with these babies, when my family's ask about their child's prognosis, I am honest, I know my boundaries, never cross them, however, I never lie to them to avoid the awkwardness and devastating presence that is their dying child. I watched a woman with the look of impending doom, stare me down, never losing eye contact, die, right in front of me because I did not advocate enough for intervention. Because I cared too much about what my provider would think of me. I take that with me everywhere now. I see her all the time. She encourages my honesty when I round and request something be done. I'm not afraid to come across brash or forward. If that honesty will keep you alive, you will hear me. Being direct and honest is not far from my reach. I carry that trait, albeit good or bad, with me in everything I do. I pride myself in you never having to guess where I stand, solicited of course, either way though, no surprises ever. And nothing, and I mean NOTHING, upsets me more than when someone goes around me to have their accomplice attempt to rectify or address something they should have the guts to do themselves. If you are in a "leadership" role, that I quickly learned is pure fluff, and can't address me directly, then you are weak. And I am laughing at you, hard. I'm going real immature as to even point at you mentally and make fun of your inadequacy and lack of confidence to do your own "dirty work". There will come a time when, "I told you so", will be on my fishing rod tongue, and what you need to leave with is knowing that that bait has been marinating for quite some time, and if anyone should be worried, it's you. My emotional state will not override this ever present climax of events that is to come, my ever standing, ever present true confidence will be what reels my catch in. No breaking of the rod here my friends, the fish will be caught, and have scales for days. And even though I am not a taxidermist by trade, eventhough I wanna be now more than ever, please do not come to me to assist you as you attempt to filet that sucker open when the time comes.
Sorry folks, no photo dump today...just me venting...as usual.
Have a great day.

Sunday, June 8, 2014

here is my intentional...

Almost embarrassed when I looked and realized how long it had been since I was last here.  Beyond embarrassed actually, more like mortified at the idea of returning with nothing to say, no clever segway to my photo bombs and just me blabbering about my qualms at work.  Truth is, the front has been awful heavy, with all kinds of goodness.  I'm pregnant, in case you didn't know.  Took us nearly three years to conceive this little bean, and it's a boy.  Wouldn't have it any other way, I mean, there's only room for one girl in this house, truth be told, I hope it's always me and not some floozy these boys decide to bring home one day.  I'm sort of at the stage that maybe, just maybe, there might be room for one more, but in case you didn't know, these grand kids have a pattern, and they alternate sexes, and the next one would be girl (ie. me not being the lone cookie, BIG PROBLEM). So, needless to say, whilst the doctor has her scalpel and sutures at her trained finger tips, we might have her lace up my tubes in a pretty bow and tuck those suckers away for my already lazy eggs to travel to, um, no where.  It's fine, they will be fine, they won't know any different, they already never make it where they belong anyways, lazy little suckers.  So here's what's been on the front, oh yea, and it's been accompanied by many a song jump, an intense form of the ladder choices I've made in the past.  If you are a new reader, and don't quite get it, it's okay, you will later.  Adan is 5. He starts kindergarten in the Fall. I feel so overwhelmed. There has been so much change in such a little time, all over the place, all around me, everywhere.  Life threatening, now there's a word that is thrown around way too much.  Amazing, surreal...if I hear those again, I will shoot the person regurging them into their vocabulary on the spot, and never look back.  But, if I were being at all honest with myself, those three words not only have been taking up quite the spot in my head, but have been living on the tip of my fishing rod of a tongue for a long time. And I have been baiting, almost on the daily, but I have never liked fishing.  As a matter of fact, I've only been once, and even though I actually never held the rod, I worked that task like the metaphor queen that I am.  And as I sat there, observing the pointless task that is "fishing", I started thinking about how we are all fisherman.  Some of us fish with makeup, some of us fish with words, and I my dear, am a fisherman of emotions.  I am an emotional fisherman. I am weak alone, and when I fish, I am looking for something, someone to walk with in my state of hunger.  I am so damn hungry, that sometimes when I bait my rod, I am not even taking into consideration the school that is beneath me waiting to bite, and before I know it, I have gotten so many bites, my rod has broken and I can't catch a break, literally.  Self sabotage has become the residue that lingers on my hook, but I'll be damned if I let some life threatening episode turn into some surreal event that prevents my amazing climax that is my family's ever after.  See what I did there?  Any volunteers, I mean, I'll even walk right into your bullet. 

Seeing as how it's been since October of last year since I visited my blog, I had to majorly cut down on the photo dump, you're welcome!  But in case you are at all curious, this is what's been on the low down/high ground at Ese'me.

Megan.  What can I say, I love her dearly, and she always includes me in her life events.  I feel so honored to have her as a friend and love her so much.  She doesn't need my love, or anyone's for that matter, but she has it in abundance via her friends, family and sweet husband...and now that lil Vossie is here, her cup runneth over.

JuJu.  Well, this young man, has changed so much over the years, and he excelled so much his last year of school and one of the sports that took him along for a hell of a ride was power lifting.  He kicked ass, and found his calling.

Mama bear let me snap a few of her growing belly, and I was so thankful, again, to be a part of her life event.

We were the loudest on the block, our neighbors came out wondering what all the yelling was about...oh don't mind us, just a bunch of Mexicans slapping "coscorones" on our heads to celebrate the Risen King. LOL!

Senior Pics...I met him when he was turning 5, he was going into kindergarten and now he has graduated.  I am at the end of both spectrum's with young men in my life.  Adan is where JuJu was 13 yrs ago, and time flew, and I know it will with Adan too.  I'm devastated looking forward to it.

I'm obsessed with making his birthday parties so special.  If I do anything right with my children it will be that they will know I love the crap out of them, and they will have any kind of birthday they want, and momma will always make everything.  This year it was Wild Kratts, he's obsessed, and I'd be lying if I said it was easy.  Even though I didn't sew this year, it was so darn time consuming, all those Pinterest mommas who shared their ideas, are liars.  Either way, it was a success and all 19 kids, and their families had a blast, and little bugga did too!!!


See what I mean.  Dying.  I'm dying, inside, a little bit every day.