luka bloom - you couldn't have come at a better time - live - audio only

It's back....!

Towing costs to regular repair shop, then AA Speed: $140.00

New Carburetor System, various Engine work: $2068.18

Being able to give my brother his truck back?

Not priceless, but damn close.

Ian McShane...

...or Brad Dourif.

Either one.

Just Sayin'.

Young men...

Still show up on your doorstep at midnight with presents for Valentine's Day.

Poor, deluded boy.

However, the coffee was strong, the chocolate was sweet...and the rest is inappropriate to post here.

The Facebook Generation and Why I Sometimes Hate My Job

I haven't touched this blog in quite a while, I know. My father died on October 17, 2010 and since then I haven't been motivated to update.

My life remains much the same, in that I still go to work for my requisite weekly shifts, I still pay half as much as I make in child care costs, my ex-husband is still breathing on the planet. Nothing much has changed, except, of course, everything has. I find I am still unable to write about my father, though it is becoming easier to speak about him.

I have endeavored, instead, to simply bury my head in work and school in order to continue with a daily routine that, on the surface, appears normal. Therefore, I've tried to be slightly more diligent about keeping up with Facebook. It makes me feel like complete tool.

I know that I should be more interested in what people are doing, and, I think I am interested in what they are actually doing, just not so much how we all feel about certain colors, who's stalking your profile page, and, dear god, Farmville. What is worse, I think, are those small, stabbing moments, which, before the digital generation came of age, were avoidable--painful little stings of ego and emotion which were spared the average individual because there was no way to instantly update a status. What examples, you might ask? Consider this: One of my girlfriends, in real life, has been tenderly pursuing a potential relationship with a man. There have been racy texts, promised assignations, blah blah. So, she logs into facebook the other day and sees that he's changed his status to "in a relationship" and the only person to "like" this fact is the woman with whom he is now "in a relationship" with. Nice for the two of them, a small smack in the face for my friend. He didn't bother to text her, speak to her, or even politely warn her this was coming. In this electronic mode, the information outstrips polite behavior. I think it's happened to everyone on some level...I know it's happened to me.

I know that when I blogged regularly and had a regular stable of readers, just like writing a monthly or weekly feature, I felt under pressure to continue to post. I think Facebook is just a minicosm, though less interesting, of the same. I don't feel compelled, though, anymore, to do anything. It's liberating. I've updated facebook recently, but otherwise, I just continue on my own way.

I have turned a corner in my adulthood, I suppose. I'm forty now...Yep, just turned a couple of weeks ago in January, and now it's culturally acceptable to be a curmudgeon. Each time I see a little smack like that...a little dig of the knife, it simply reinforces my own belief that people are inherently selfish and that to extend yourself to others is a waste of resources. I've become much happier now that I've managed to finally let go of my last emotional ties. I find that it's easier to have compassion for people, to care about what is really happening now that I am not focused on receiving emotional fulfillment from another individual. Forty, for me, is the year of liberation.

I have spent most of the last year, professionally, focusing on becoming better at my job--learning as much as I can in the Emergency Room where I work. It's a small, community hospital which has been experiencing some difficult growing pains since a larger, corporate health care system has taken over. I know that many of my colleagues have taken the changes personally, and if there is one thing I hate about my job it is the fact that most of my colleagues seem to take these changes personally. Anyone who is employed by a large company should understand that "the big green machine" rolls forward. The individual employees are resources for the company. The policies and procedures that are set are, first and always, geared for a bottom-line expectation of profit and cost-containment. That is the sharp reality. If I were to drop dead in the middle of my shift, the idea is that my co-workers would step over my dead body and keep on working...that's what hospitals do. Anyone who thinks otherwise should find a new line of work.

Ideally, you provide the best patient care possible with the resources that you have. For the administrative structure to expect that is only normal. If it seems impersonal or harsh, well, it is...but that doesn't necessarily make it wrong. We should all be concerned about safety, about good practice, about providing the best services we can in a safe environment. My Emergency Room suffers from a serious lack of professionalism. It bleeds from the top down. I work in a place where people feel free to say anything, in any tone, and behave in juvenile ways that, in any other place of business would result in termination. I work in a harsh environment where many people feel entitled and at least as far as now have had no negative consequences for inappropriate behavior. Will the culture change? Probably not until we all realize that as a team we make the culture...and if we care about what happens in our facility, then we all have to recognize that the problems start with each individual and move right on up the ladder.

Most of the people I work with have never worked in any other industry--their entire professional experience is in health care. I don't believe that's healthy. It just fosters the insulated bad habits that everyone complains about and no one tries to change. It's overwhelming, and sad.

Of course, this has been a particularly bad week. Maybe I'll think differently at the end of this next week. I guess, only time will tell.

Who we are on the inside...

...is rarely reflected on the outside.
On the inside...I feel like the above, I have that kind of anger and malice in me.

However, on the outside, this is a closer reflection.


(and some may say, in this case, the reality is close to the picture.)



Hn.

It's all bumpy and downhill from here...

As my between 1 and 3 readers know, my father is dying.

Hospice has been in place for a couple of weeks and while it was a rough entry into the process, the fact that my dad broke his leg last week has put, not to be too punnerific, a real kink in the works.

The significant other has returned to Hungary and I don't expect to see him for months. I have nudged him gently, by text, to indicate that he really, really should plug in a bit more if he wants to fulfill those obligations he has. Has he? Not so much.

It's becoming something of a great big shrug for me at this point. Is there email in my box? No. Did I expect it? No. Consequently, in watching my father now that he has gone to rehabilitation hospital, it occurs to me that the old adage is true: You die alone. The part that is unspoken is...it's an unbearable process for those you leave behind. Too many questions, too many regrets, too many sharp reminders that the life you have is not worth what you paid for it.

However, it's nice to dust off the blog, especially since himself doesn't read it....or at least it's months before he does. And that let's me off the hook.

The other night at work, I was doing CPR on a patient who had no business being a full code, but was. I didn't mind the work, even though I looked very foolish in my Curious George scrub top. I could feel her ribs cracking under my hands, and despite every "heroic" effort, the oldest son finally asked for the team to stop, and there I was towering over the dead body of a woman I'd known both as a patient and as a community member.

I felt for her family. I felt for the rest of the team, but for myself I felt nothing. For her, I felt nothing. She wasn't there anymore. She left that room probably long before I started chest compressions.

It just makes me wonder...the nature of my job now and who I've become...I don't feel very much since the Significant Other left. I don't feel very much at all. Am I just saving it up for when my father dies? I think I know the answer to the question and I don't think I like it.