So at first read it might look as though I am overjoyed to have the job I do. This is not true. I adore the people I work with everyday but in very many ways, my job sucks ass. Not all the time, mind you, but often and sometimes a VERY lot.
For example, you would think that there would come a point where I would have smelled EVERY smell possible in the universe because I have been doing this for quite some time. Not so. Almost every week or two I am shocked by a new olfactory assault. You would think there would be some finite co-mingling of proteins, and that I have smelled them all. But no. I am not ashamed to admit that often times I have had to bury my nose in a co-workers shirt to escape for several seconds. Dave never minds. ;-) And yes, my co-workers armpit in the middle of a 13 hour shift is like fresh mountain air, if that gives you any indication of the horror.
One winter I had a horrible sinusitis and after it resolved I found out that I had a case of anosmia or loss of my sense of smell. This lasted for almost 6 glorious months. Such a blessing at work! It was not until the summer, strangely driving into work, when I smelled the freshly cooked Cheerios from the General Mills factory that I knew my sense of smell had returned.
I will attempt to not be overly gory here, as this is not a blog specifically about my job and not only my fellow nurses read it. They understand. This is my job and I signed up for all the parts of it, no matter how distasteful. And the fact that I can talk about the worst parts of it and eat my dinner at the same time should tell you that I am broken. I can take it. Yes sir, may I please have another?
The last few days have been really crappy on my neck. I named my pain in my neck this week, she is "Mildred". She beat the crap out of me this week. Or I could have named it The Beast. The Beast has been with us for over a month and he is stronger than you can imagine for an octogenarian. All I can say, when helping to move him is "please, please stop fighting me. I don't wanna do this either, trust me, mister"
And the worst part? This week has found a few of us verbally abused, if you will, by patients' family members. Insane, irrational bullies. I abhor bullies. And I for one, do not give into their crap. In particular, one such bully was attempting to inch forward towards my friend, showing..I dunno...power? anger? I ended up stepping between the aggressor and my friend. I don't have problems with personal space. So go ahead, move closer buddy...we can dirty dance if you wanna...you are not gonna bully this little 5' chica.
Every patient deserves the best care we can provide and just because you yell and scream and can use big words like "malpractice"...you should not get more of my time or think that rules and such do not apply to you. You are not more important than my patient who is poor, can't talk and has no family spitting in my face.
I am of course speaking of a specific situation that occurred this week, that I really can't go into details about, however I can say that some people are douche bags and need a kick in the ass. This week at work had me face two situations that got me quite upset and disgruntled. I guess I need to be "gruntled" again. I need some long days off to let it roll off of me and return me to my norm.
So that is one reason the writing has been lacking. I am mentally tired. I have several things to write about...and I will after I am rejuvenated and less grumpy with my noble career. Knowing me...that could be in an hour. We'll see.