O.O Do Not Like

First, I know I totally failed at the daily blog thing. Apparently getting home after 3am one night and then working the weekend and being distracted by my fiance and Jaime and Claire in Outlander is enough to make me forget about blogging.

Tonight though I am blogging because I need to try to calm down a bit. I have never felt so much panic as what I did tonight while on my way back home from the movies. I was following my fiance home and watched him nearly get rear-ended while going 65 mph while changing lanes. It was probably the most terrifying thing I’ve experienced in, well, ever. It involved more panic and physical reactions on my part than when I had a drunk, psychotic patient grabbing for an eight-inch knife from a co-worker or any of the times when I was doing military training with live ammunition (because really, who trusts the idiots that are people in basic training?) or any of the times I tried to kill myself when I was a kid. Honestly, I discovered tonight that I really could not care less about my health and safety when compared to my fiance’s. It is both an interesting discovery and one that makes me wonder just how much it is possible to love another. Apparently enough so to feel as though I was watching my entire world disappear.

Luckily for me the entire thing lasted no more than three seconds and everyone is safe and fine and I had at least 12 minutes to calm down enough that I was able to grab him into a bear hug and tell him he’s not allowed to ever do that again as soon as we were both out of our vehicles. If I hadn’t had that time and some soothing music, I’m not so sure I would have managed to not burst into tears as soon as I touched him. That would have been rather embarrassing you know.

Anywho, I’m off to remind him that he’s not allowed to go away in any sort of permanent sense. Again.

Peace

A random thought…

I’m watching The Big Bang Theory with my fiance and I can’t help but be highly amused by the fact that I sometimes feel like Penny. My fiance and most of his friends are all engineers who deal with computers and electronics and other such things. I am a nurse who deals with crazy people. In just about all ways we perceive the world and what makes sense differently.

But it’s okay. It works for us in most ways. It also helps that he gets me. He understands me. And because he can and he tolerates all my quirks and whatnot, his friends are able to do so as well. So, I will enjoy my times channeling Penny and laugh at myself when I’m being a bit more dense than usual. And they can enjoy being the geekish nerds that they are.

Peace.

Post a day – Quiet Time

I’m still tired from yesterday, definitely in need of some recharge time. So of course this topic comes up from the post a day blog – When You Need Quiet Time, Where Do You Go?

I have several places I go, all having their different purposes.

If I’m in deep need of pampering–not in the sense of wanting to look good or pretty or even feel well treated, but in the sense of needing to feel like I’m worth receiving a service rather than always being the one to give a service–then I will often schedule myself a massage and try to relax. Or, if I do not have the time or money for that, a bubblebath with an entrancing book and lovely music is the next most fantastic thing. I can really even manage some of that sense just by finding myself on the floor of the tub during my morning shower. Feeling the water wash away whatever I allow myself to release can be enough to get me going for another day.

Honestly though, if I’m truly in need of some quiet time, to me that means time with no other souls around for miles. I live near the beautiful Rocky Mountains. By near I mean that their shadows cover my apartment before the sun has fully set. That means the opportunity for finding places where it at least doesn’t feel like anyone is around is high and I can even engage in several different “quiet” time scenarios. Recharge time for me isn’t always quiet. Sometimes it’s a clash of sounds and sensations. Driving with all my windows down through the winding mountain roads with my music blasting and the feel of the moon on my skin is just about one of the most absolutely therapeutic things I can ever do for myself. Finding a spot that is undisturbed by any others and grabbing a notebook and pen(s) from somewhere and then immersing myself in the silence that is a mountain night is exactly what my soul cries for. I can disappear into my mind and thoughts and heart for hours and hours – at least if it’s warm enough!

Honestly, just typing and imagining this is enough to help settle my soul and mind. THe human mind is quite impressive in that it is able to see and feel and remember so much from particular experiences, especially ones that have truly influenced us as individuals. And for me, those mountain drives are the things of dreams and memories and desires.

Funny enough, I can also find quiet time in some of the most crowded places – a Starbucks or mall or whatever can be very soothing to me… Assuming I’ve my headphones and pen and paper and the chance to completely disregard and ignore the entire world around me. This is something I discovered nearly three years ago when I was mobilized for a year to the desert of Southern California. I knew no one. I was around no one. I had no desire to get to know anyone. It was the loneliest and most introverted and internal seeking year of my life so far, which is sort of saying something. The loneliness was something I quickly got used to and eventually even managed to crave and desire nearly as much as my mountain drives. The introversion and looking into myself was what helped me to recognize that I was not happy, that I was trapped and in the midst of a desperately abusive relationship. And the time to think and just be with myself gave me the chance to learn to that I could do without others and therefore did not need to subject myself to that man and what he represented to me.

Essentially, it helped me to discover and re-establish myself as an adult. Not someone who doesn’t make mistakes. Heaven help me if I ever get so delusional as to believe that I don’t make mistakes. But as someone who is willing and able to learn from my mistakes and maybe even the mistakes of others. That is enough, in my opinion. At least enough to be getting on with now.

Ironically enough, despite the fact that I absolutely adore and love my fantastic fiance, I cannot be “alone” or have true “quiet time” if we are near each other. My attention goes to him and I am too concerned about him and what’s going on and what he may need in order to truly disengage myself enough to start recovering. I think I’ve described this to him, but I’m not sure that he understands. Even now, he’s playing a game on his computer and I’m typing here and half my brain is distracted by wondering if that throat clearing was because he’s feeling like he’s being ignored or is bored but doesn’t want to interrupt me. However, I also know that it’s quite possible he merely needed to clear his throat. If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t give a damn and just assume it was throat clearing. But I do not want to ever appear to be ignoring him. That is not love. But that is also a completely different post.

Before I manage to get too much more off-topic, I believe I will leave this one as it is.

Peace

There Should be a Rant Here

There should be a rant here. Really there ought to be. I have a lot of anger directed toward “the system” right now that has very little opportunity for outlet. Outlet being anything more than a rant or raging against something which is beyond me, but which I am also a part of.

The system I am referring to is the publicly funded mental health system within the state of Colorado. There are so many issues with it, so many times where I and my co-workers are stuck between a rock and a hard place, between being ethical and recognizing that the bottom line still is, and always will be about funding. The safety of the consumers is taken so much more seriously than the safety of the staff, except where the risk of bad publicity or press is possible in which case much is swept under the rug. If someone doesn’t have insurance but truly has a need for services, we may be able to find some time, some funding, some help. But if someone else has insurance but no motivation or drive or desire to get better we keep throwing more and more services at them because god dammit, we can make up for their lack of anything if resources are thrown at them. Except it doesn’t work that way. And we all know it. But because they can get the services, it’s not right to hold them back for someone who maybe can’t afford them but would actually possibly benefit from them.

Oh is it so very broken.

And I feel dirty sometimes for being a part of it. For perpetuating it. Despite the fact that I dig in my heels and advocate for what is most ethical, at least as far as actual treatment and therapy is concerned. But I am very low on the totem-pole and my opinions only matter if I can convince the psychiatrist who is having the medical director breathing down her back as well as the board members and other such peoples that best ethical practice is not always best practice. And dammit she doesn’t have enough power to go against it either.

And the worst thing is that I can’t even blame them. If they weren’t so pushy about what they want from the programs I work with, the programs would no longer exist. Funding would have dried up years ago and the services wouldn’t exist for anyone. At least nothing that stayed around long enough to actually be of any use to the people who need them. But it doesn’t make it any easier to think about either.

Despite what it appears up above, you still haven’t seen my rant. You’ve seen the tale end of it, where I am on my hands and knees, spent and crying and begging for some brilliant solution to make itself known to me or the people around me. This is the spent and wrung out and just plain tired part of me begging for something to change.

In the meantime, I’m going to snuggle with my fiance and try to forget that when I wake up in the morning and get ready to go to work that despite all my best efforts, it’s never going to be enough to help everyone that needs it and that I’m part of a system that I cannot stand. Because there are some days or weeks where I have to forget it if I’m going to be able to do anything of what I can do for the poor souls caught up in the system. I know that I have been able to help people. I know that I have helped to turn around peoples’ lives and that they are better off for me having been their nurse. But on days like today, it’s so very difficult to remember that.

I have to try though.

Peace

Daily Post: How do you Decide to Decide?

Now, this topic seemed sort of silly to me when I first read it. How else do you decide besides just, well deciding. Then I thought further on it and realized that I decide things in a weirdly different way from others that I know. I use hunches, I use random decisions and pay attention to random signs around me that I sometimes feel that the universe tries to use to get my attention for a variety of reasons.

I think that last one is the one that tends to get me the weirdest looks. I’m a relatively logical person in just about all parts of my life, and quite rightly so. I’m a nurse who is looked to for coming up with unique viewpoints and decisions using common sense type approaches that aren’t necessarily clear to others. I’m one of those people who can follow the more interesting paths of logic that lead to a brand new “ah ha!” moment.

However, there are times when I will pay more attention to what’s going on in the world outside of me and finding things that mean something to me and use those as signs for whether I’m using the right sort of logic, whether I’m going in the right direction. It’s sort of a long-term game of hot-cold that I use to help and steer my decisions depending upon what I’m feeling and sensing and understanding. Since I’ve been learning to pay attention to the signs and actually interpret them in a way that makes sense to me. Since I have done so, I’ve managed to find the man of my dreams, (quite literally!) have found a way to start getting back on my feet financially, and am so much happier in general than what I have been in over five years.

I don’t really know how to describe what I know means “hot” and what means “cold” in my own interpretation of what’s going on in the world around me. I wish I could. It would make things so much easier since there are far too many times when I would really love to be able to explain the “why” of a particular decision. Especially when someone who doesn’t use such ways to make decisions asks me how in the world I managed to come to that conclusion. It’s frustrating sometimes, but considering that I spend so much of my time with people who are able to view and understand such alternative thinking. I suppose it’s why I get along with them so well. And why they found their way to the same line of human-centered work that I have. It all works somehow, right?

Anywho, this is awfully late, and I do apologize for that. No Broncos game after work and dinner to distract me tomorrow, though there will be dinner with the family, so the next observation or daily post may be just as late. Or early depending upon how you wish to interpret such things. :-p

Peace

Observation #253/3 Whichever you want to call it

I’ve been spending the last 11 days or so recovering from having my tonsils removed, which at the age of 25, really is not all that much fun or interesting. It’s actually quite a bit painful and made me rethink several times that being out of commission one day out of every 25 or so for strep wouldn’t have been all that bad if I had truly had any idea how much pain can be perceived by the brain from the mere act of swallowing water. I’m doing much better now after having been on steroids for three days (which I really, really wanted to avoid if at all possible) and after several days of doing absolutely nothing. Which, mind you, is a big deal for me since I have two jobs, a fiance, two cats, friends and family who all vie for my time in some way or other.

So what is the purpose of today’s post beyond making you ask why in the world would a 25 year old woman be stupid enough to get her tonsils removed? Well, it’s actually an observation I made today when I decided to put on something besides a pair of scrub pants and a t-shirt. I truly feel like I am something resembling a human today, which I hadn’t really been feeling like that for the last week and a half. There’s this feeling one gets when one is a patient that seems to seep into the core of ones soul that just won’t go away until some drastic change is made. For some people, it’s the physical relief of symptoms and they are good to go. For others, they cannot have their environment remain the same. And still others, like me, need to make a physical change to themselves in order to start to wipe away that “patient” label from their mind and heart and soul.

What’s funny is that I had initially put on a pair of scrubs and t-shirt and figured I would take advantage of my last day of freedom to “slum” it. But, as I was (finally) clearing out a part of the closet that I had made a mess of, I found an old jean dress that I got my senior year of high school. What the hell, let’s see if it’s worth keeping the darn thing, I had thought to myself. I had a hell of a time with the zipper; apparently my bust has changed more than a bit since I had purchased the dress, and it’s tighter about the hips and ass than it was originally. Luckily, that stretchy denim material that was so very popular in the mid-2000’s is incredibly forgiving of such flaws. Or benefits depending upon how one views the female body. Anywho, I was surprised and pleased with the results of my spontaneous decision. I finished the closet, sorted out a box of shoes that was supposed to have lived in that part of the closet a few weeks ago and found a cute pair of sandals to go with my dress. Since I was more than half-way there already, I decided that I may as well do something different with my hair and pulled it back with one of those large clippy thingamajigs and voila, I not only look and feel human, but like a girl, (for once) and I maybe even look a bit flirtatious and cute.

The impact was not lost on my fiance when I finally made my way out to the main living area. He was playing a game (as he has been trying to just finish this damn game for the last week and it was really getting to him that it just wasn’t over yet) and looked over and did this double-take that made me giggle. Poor man really hasn’t seen me wearing anything truly feminine more than maybe once in a blue moon, and this was very unexpected. It was almost like he was seeing a whole new me too, all shiny and sparkly and no longer his “sickly gazelle,” as he had started to call me after my second strep episode two months ago. I do believe that helped to wipe away even more of that patient feeling from my mind, because it’s really hard to know that someone is thinking “sexy” and still feel “sick” at the same time. Don’t get me wrong, my throat still hurts. It still hurts to open my mouth too wide, to swallow, to chew, to yawn, (which by the way, is the most painful thing in the world, especially when I have no freakin’ control over it!) to eat, to drink, to breath, to cough, or any number of things that have to do with anything at all thinking about going near my throat. However, I don’t look like any of that is a problem at all, and that is making all the difference in the world for my recovery.

So, in the future, I will be making sure that my “slumming it” when I’m feeling sick and tired and lazy is kept to a minimum and that if, at any point in time, I start to feel the sticky “patient” way of thinking and feeling seeping into my being, I will take a shower and put something nice on and try my darndest to be anything but that. At the very least, I’ll be a patient who looks and smells good, which as a nurse, I can always appreciate.

Peace

Postaday – topic 246 – Frustrations While Driving

I already posted an observation today, but this postaday was just too apropos for me to ignore it. If you want to see the few responses already, head over to The Daily Post and laugh or agree or wince along with me.

My biggest frustration while driving is probably one of the things that is a sure indicator that yes, I am an aggressive driver. I drive a minimum of 60 miles every day, 30 miles to work, 30 miles back, with an optional 5-15 miles in the middle depending upon how much office hopping I am doing that day. Nearly all of that driving is on the highways. Some would say that’s really good, some would say that’s got to be annoying. It depends upon the time of day and all that, but usually it’s tolerable. What makes it intolerable is when all lanes in the road are going the same speed, which is usually some variation of the exact speed limit and perhaps a few miles below.

I’m impatient. I’m running late, I have many things I need to do, and there is a line of 50+ cars between three lanes with over a mile (and growing) between the leaders and the next huddle of cars. This tells me that the people near the front are not following the most basic courtesy of driving on a highway. Slower traffic to the right. Yes, you may technically be passing the car next to you by a foot or so every mile, but that is not the definition of passing. You are holding up people, bunching up cars, and much as I would love to say we’re all going to follow the 6 second rule, or hell, even the 3 second rule, I know that no one is. If any of the lead cars slow down just by half a mile an hour there is the possibility of one of those distracted drivers in the middle not realizing the change and not hitting their breaks in time, and oops, now we have an accident.

If the lanes are all going different speeds, usually with a difference of 5-10 miles an hour between them, the flow of traffic is much smoother and there is nearly always more distance between cars, an additional bumper of time and space in case anything funky does happen. So, if you are going to move to the left lane to pass a vehicle, don’t be afraid to increase your speed for a minute, pass the other vehicle, give yourself extra clearance and then move over and go back to your original speed. It keeps you from getting annoyed at the “slow poke” you just passed and still gives all the other drivers the opportunity to continue at something resembling their original speeds. Want to know something else pretty cool about that?

You won’t get pulled over for that maneuver.

Cops get it, especially if they see you move back over and reduce speed again. They like traffic moving smoothly and without incident. They actually aren’t all assholes just out to get your hard earned money. They are watching for blatant disregard for the safety of people on the road. If you can go 5 miles over the speed limit, pass someone and return to your original lane without incident, congratulations, you are able to vary your driving based on conditions and could actually help prevent an accident by being such a nimble driver. The asshole who waits for you get back in your lane before zooming ahead at 20 miles over the speed limit is not considered a safe driver and yes, s/he will likely get pulled over for that stunt. I know I should have been pulled over several times for doing crap like that. I will admit though that I’m usually one of about a dozen vehicles that can be observed doing that when finally, finally there is a break and I can *gasp* finally reach the speed limit and try to make up for some lost time.

Now, I know this seems rather petty of me to complain about people only following the law, but I would like to point out again that people who do so in all lanes are actually hazards in traffic and are decreasing the overall safety of that road at that time. That is actually violating the law more so than my speeding by 5-10 miles an hour since I am usually quite able to give more space and have greater maneuverability when given the opportunity to do so. Going the speed limit = a hazard. Having several lanes going at different average speeds is safer.

So, for the love of all that is holy in this world, please think before moving over and learn how to drive in a manner that will NOT have all the drivers behind you pulling out their hair. It’d be even better if you made sure to signal before moving over, but honestly, I’m not going to be that picky or ask that much right now. Let’s just work on getting the feet to work. We can add the hands in later./rant

Peace

Observation #252 (or 2)

I’m sitting in a motorcycle dealers lot while waiting for my fiance to talk to the mechanics here to figure out what in the world went wrong with his “new” 2009 S1 (I think it’s an S1, maybe it’s an R1? Whatever the speedy speedy racey one is) since after owning it for less than 2 weeks the battery apparently decided to stop working on him. Highly annoying, right? I’m thinking so at least because it really is a fun bike to ride around on, if a bit uncomfortable for the passenger. That be way off-topic though. The point is that this is not the first spot of trouble he’s had with the bike. Nope.

The first night he was the proud new owner of said bike, he tried to drive it off the lot only to find that it would no longer start. Rather than having the fun of showing off a new bike, we instead got to laugh and joke about his problem child toy. This was especially annoying as we had plans to try to cheer up a friend of his who had recently lost her job and she *loves* anything to do with motorcycles. Rather than meeting up for karaoke and giving her the chance to ride any bike, she got to see pics on a phone and laugh with us, though her heart wasn’t quite in it.

Fast forward a few weeks and he’s greatly annoyed by the bike yesterday morning when the engine won’t turn over so he can leave for work. I’m still in bed trying to decide whether I’m going to join the land of the living or return to dreamland when he stomps back upstairs to put his riding gear down and says something about the battery being dead. Say what? First, he never stomps, so that was new, and second, the bike was working fine less than a week ago. WTF, mate? Jump forward half a day and we jumpstart it using his car and leave it running while he does some mechanic voodoo magic stuff to make it stop squealing when it turns on or the wheels turn. (In case you can’t tell, I don’t know a damn thing about cars besides how to drive them, and even that is something of a miracle in my mind.) While in the midst of doing that, his bike does some very short splutter, cough, cough, *dead* dance thing and we’re both like “wah…. huh?” because that’s really not the way this is supposed to work. Even mechanically dumb people like me know that if an engine is going, even just idling, it is usually going to be able to get some reserves going in the battery. W.T.F?! Cue much grumbling and mumbling under our breath. And that leads to me in a bike lot the next day sans a shower and trying to decide if my throat will tolerate food when we get back home because my body is craving protein like no other. But that’s another post and another story.

The moral of the story, at least in my mind, is that even if something seems like a great deal, think about it long and hard before deciding what you want to do with it. This bike had been lost in the back of the bike shop for 2 years because someone forgot to remove a “missing part” sticker from it. They only realized this after they got new 2011 R1/S1 (whatever the hell it is) series in. So he got a brand spanking new, high-end sportbike for basically the high end of what it would sell used. Awesome trade in for is S6 or whatever it was that he had before. But… since then it has caused much more trouble and grr argh than it is worth. People don’t just give things away for the hell of it. Especially businesses. I’m also of the superstitious kind and really, if something managed to get lost for so long, there are really only two possibilities: it was “waiting” for a particular owner to come by (highly unlikely, but I suppose not unheard of) or it was operhaps not the best of the bunch and there’s something of a jinx on it. I’m leaning towards option number two in this case.

Ah well. And hey, you never know, maybe I’ll be surprised and I’ll be coming back in a few months and writing about how persistence can introduce you to some very interesting different sort of things or how waiting to pass judgement can yield some interesting results. *shrugs* Who knows really? I know I don’t.

Peace

Postaday?

What better way to get me going and posting every day than a reminder poke in my email? So, here goes. We’ll give it a whirl. I’ve not always been terribly successful in such endeavors, but perhaps I can start to use this as a way to get me writing and thinking again since that had been my primary goal for 2011 that was dropped along the wayside about 9 months ago.

Anywho, happy blogging.

Peace

Observation #251

Or perhaps I should consider this observation #1 since I will feel awfully silly when it comes to be September 8th next year and I discover that I have to do some funky logic jumps to not have observation #251 twice. Not that it matters to you lot. You lot just maybe want to know what in the world this is about.

Well, you and me both.

Not that I don’t know what it is that I’m about. Actually, I’ve only the vaguest idea of what I’m about, but that’s not going to stop me from meandering all about this page and about your page. I like wandering. It’s good for the soul. Or so I do believe.

Ah, but that observation. It was made as I was laying about, quite lazily I might add, in bed this morning. My fiance was having apparently unable to wake up to both his alarms and I was only conscious enough to know that I was completely unable to reach either without crawling over him and mostly out of bed to get to them. Twas my fault since I had handed his phone alarm to him about 10 minutes earlier to do something about. Once he managed to realize that both alarms were going off and that at least one of them needed to go (the man was smart enough to turn both off actually) he did one of the things that makes  me melt for him over and over and over; he rolled over and pulled me to his chest and may as well have said “stay” for all the wriggle room I was given. Not that I wanted any wriggle room. Oh no. I take full advantage of the fact that I have a whole 10 minutes until the alarms will go off again to enjoy that my fiance so subconsciously wants me there in his arms that even when he is still mostly asleep he pulls me close to him.

My observation is that one of the most amazing and loving feelings in the world is knowing that you are wanted and desired. Sometimes that just means cuddling as soon as you get home from work because you’ve been dreaming about it all day. Or work was really crappy and you just need to know that at least there’s one person in this world who loves you without any reservations or hesitations. Sometimes it means that you can’t keep your eyes or hands off your love, whether you’re supposed to or not and really, neither of you gives a damn. Sometimes it means that you get up and go to that party, that event, that extra thing that you weren’t planning on doing, because your love wants to or needs to and they need you and your support and that’s what matters and counts. And still other times it’s knowing that when the day comes a close and you’re both tired and exhausted and just want to sleep that the best sleep you’ll get is while snuggling with this amazing person who has for some reason agreed to spend their life with you.

To be wanted. To be desired. Truly, it is what most people believe will make them happy and will lead them to have a much more fulfilled life. I don’t know if it has made me happy, but I know that I am happy. I know that there are few things in this world that can make me smile as quickly as my fiance coming home from work and that welcome-back-home hug and kiss. I know I’m incredibly lucky to have found the man that I have. I know I never expected to ever know what it means to be loved and desired and wanted. Now that I know, I never want to live a life without any of them ever again. Because as amazing as it is to feel desired, it’s just as fantastic to know that I feel that same desire and attraction and want and need for him. It’s very reciprocal. As a matter of fact, if it weren’t reciprocal, I do not believe it would exist. But that’s another observation to be explored on another day.

Peace