Just a Doodle

Sometimes when things become crazy and you want time to slow down, that is when I pull out my small sketch pad and just start sketching mindlessly.  I never know or plan how these types of sketches turn out, but they are always unique in their design. IMG_20131210_142533The best part, is when my daughter pulls out her sketch pad and sits by me and we come up with ideas together.  I want to make her creative time a place where she can use as an outlet to express herself.

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Earth Fairy

So I ventured into something that I always wanted to play around with. Watercolors. I have always been intimidated by them, yet at the same time I have become bored with just the simple pencil. While I am self-taught, I understand that in order to become good at something you have to just do it. Of course with this being my first piece with watercolors I have learned a lot going through this process. So while facing my fears on the canvas I am gaining insight on how this works. I do know this, while creating I find true happiness and peace. It takes me to a place where there is possibilities without judgment.

EarthFairy

Rule # 1

People are stupid.

Yes, there it is.  People are stupid.   In a great book called, Wizard’s First Rule by Terry Goodkind, it details the length at which people go through to avoid a glaring truth because it might bring their reality of things come crashing down.   For example, I was standing outside  among other parents waiting for the on coming rush of kids to flood through the doors of the school to what they deem potential freedom.  As I stood there I couldn’t help but over hear a conversation by a few moms about obamacare.  News flash, I am not a support of Obama or this fiasco called the Affordable Care Act.  For the most part I tolerate people’s views because I understand the fundamental freedom of speech.  I would rather have someone speak on things that I may or may not disagree with because that is the value of freedom.  I can choose not to listen. 

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Back to the point, regardless of your view, the conversation went on about how healthcare is saved by Obama.  Blah blah blah, I have heard it all before and acknowledged that sentiment with a roll of the eyes and turned my attention to my phone that was far more interesting then the conversation of these women.  Then I heard it, and I couldn’t help but look up in disbelief.  One of the women clearly stated, “Yeah, now that Obama care is happening the money that they are taking from doctors and nurses will go to the people who need it.”  Wha What!?! First when did nurses get pulled into the same pay of Doctors!?!  I obviously didn’t get that memo and neither did my paycheck.  Second,   allow me to educate you since you obviously have been coddled to the point that your ass needs the extra insurance that I am suppose to give up.  You ninnies, do you UNDERSTAND what a nurse does?  While you sit on your ass and watch the latest rendition of the Kardashains wishing you might be hot enough that someone would sell a sex tape of you, I am cleaning up vomit, I have my hand on someone’s chest as I brake their bones doing compressions while blood is spewing out at me in attempts to save a life.  I am holding an unfortunate soul’s hand and watching them give up the fight and draw their last breath and having to turn to the family and tell them I am sorry.  I have the pleasure of cleaning shit of my shoes because the patient couldn’t make it to the bathroom in time because they have CDIFF.  Don’t know that  is? Then by all means come and shake my hand after I wipe their ass and pray to the gods that you don’t get it.  After all I am just an overpaid nurse that just sits at the nurses station waiting to be ordered around by the generously compensated physicians. 

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It was all I could do not to comment, because I have learned that you can’t argue and win with stupid people.  They just beat you with their experience.  The next comment was a just as ignorant and almost broke my concerted effort of keeping my mouth shut.  “…the money that they will save should go to the teachers because they deserve it.”  What the fuck!  Seriously?  No offense to teachers, you do a great job, but I bet you if you have to stick your hand up someone’s ass you would be screaming for higher pay and better insurance.  Well welcome to my fucking world!  Not only do I have to shove tubes of all sizes into orifices of a patient’s body, but  I do it with a smile and no tip.   Just then the bell cut through the air and the doors busted open with the laughter and screaming kids.  As parents found their child and started to head out, I watched as three women waddled their way to their oversize SUV’s, knowing with a smile that karma is a bitch.  You want health care for all at the expense of nursing, well my friend I will see you soon in my area, and I am sorry I couldn’t wash my hands from cleaning up the shit next door, you see the money is going to teachers now and there for we had to make some cuts with necessities such as paper towels and toilet paper.  I bet they have two ply for the teacher’s asses cause they deserve it,  so don’t complain at what your going to get.  NOTHING is FREE.  One to the next battle….the parking lot and crazy parent drivers.

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It Matters

Its been a long time since I sat down and faced the keyboard.  While I had many ideas to exploit, it comes down to does it matter?  I am not sure, all I know is that the need to acknowledge the inner side that has been buried underneath by the demands of life.  It is like I am  screaming from the inside begging to be fed something, something that I feel I cannot provide.  While I am an active reader of many and wonderful blogs, I cannot help but be somewhat envious of them.  While their writings are exceptional, I have come to realize that the bloggers are doing something that they love.  While I am trapped fighting to develop what I know is inside of me against the negative naysayers that quite often tell me that I am wasting my time.  I just know that it is something that quiets my mind, it provides a peace from the disappointments, expectations, and pending obligations and provides me a space of freedom of where I can be me.  I prefer sketching to writing because I enjoy the creation of something that I imagined.  While exploring what can be, I find that I become relaxed and by doing that I become rejuvenated and able to function in my many roles.   The need for me to find such a time to release my frustrations or just to recenter has grown because of the new responsibility of being accepted into Nurse Practitioner school.  On one side I never thought this is were my road would take me.  The amount of pressure to succeed is daunting at best.  While I struggle to keep from hyperventilating at times, I know this has to work because of who depends on me to do this.  The amount of pressure I feel is hard to bare at times.  I have also been accepted into the highest Honor Society for Nursing.  I went to my induction and waited in line to receive my accepting certificate.  I looked into the audience and realized how big this actually was and part of me was in denial that I was in line to receive the honor.  As I stood there I couldn’t help but realize that I was proud, I worked hard, I am a good nurse and have the potential to rise higher.  Yet, the creative side felt betrayed.  As they called my name, I walked on to the stage, but with each step I felt the creative artist die a little. Have I chosen my path in life?  Have I given up of becoming an artist? The funny thing is even as I ask that question now, the inside of my head screams a resounding NO! So how do I find balance?  The answer was staring me in the face.  As I was reading through my horrendously boring assignment in epidemiology I found my self doodling.  I stopped and found a spark of hope that maybe just maybe I might combine the two.  While reading I discovered that my learning went higher when I drew the connections out.  I gave myself permission to explore concepts through art.  Yeah its not the art that I love to create, but it is still art.  So while I walk down this new path that honestly scares the hell out of me, I find comfort in keeping my little sketch pad close by. 

“It does not matter how slow you go so long as you do not stop.”

Wisdom of Confucius

 

To Wing or Not To Wing…

So, once again I am doing a crazy schedule with the night shift and have one day off in the middle of the crazy run, which happens to be enough time to get a paper done for my class.  While feeling the pressure of the impending deadline, my thoughtful husband tells me that he is taking the kids out to run some chores in which case I would have a nice quiet house to contemplate my  assignment.  He asks if I need anything, and on a whim I ask if he could please pick up some feminine products and if he doesn’t want to I will do it later.  After a conversation of him stating he was comfortable in his manhood of picking up the items (I am not sure who he was trying to convince), I was soon left alone with my thoughts. 

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Some time had passed in which I had wondered where my family went to, and then I heard the garage door beginning to open.  As I was finishing up the paper, my husband walks in with a look that I have rarely seen, it was a look of disgust and exasperation rolled into one.  I didn’t have to wait long to find out what happened.  As he tossed my much needed items at me while saying never again, he began the tale of Wal-Mart.  “First, let me tell you that they screwed up the aisles of the damn pads so I couldn’t do my  maneuver of roll and sweep by.”  It is a move that he uses when he doesn’t want to linger long and sweeps the items into the cart, a move that was solely devised for instances such as this.  I waited patiently as he inhales as if the mortal sin as been committed in which case I was the transgressor.  “So that meant I had to stop in front of the blasted aisle that was shortened and I couldn’t find what you usually use.”  he said.  I thought to myself, wow you were really looking?  “THEN…” As he closes his eyes as if to shake off the memory that apparently was not one of cherishment. 

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“I was flanked by two fat woman, in which case my escape route had been compromised.”  “Your escape route?” I asked.  I didn’t know that the feminine aisle required such battle tactic, but then again I am secure in my womanhood.  “These women, decided to tell me about which pads I am suppose to get for you!  They started to say unholy things as leakage, moisture, itchiness, dryness…things that a man should NEVER know!”  At this point I am doing my best to keep a straight face as I can see the whole thing play out in my minds eye.  “So what did you do?”  I asked, not really trusting my self to say much more incase I busted out laughing in such a serious moment.  “What could I do?  I couldn’t move!  They started taking the pads I had in my hands away and replacing with what THEY use!”   As he pause to take a breath, “Then our six year old daughter started to ask ME what causes itchiness and what is leaking that mom needs a bandage!”  Okay at this point I am shaking with laughter and couldn’t hold it in.  “So, Let me get this straight, you were barricade by two fat women that wanted to save you from buying the wrong product, all the while giving you an education on what we really want, thus causing our daughter to take an active role in listening to her father getting schooled in the tampon/pad aisle.” My husband gave me one of looks that he want to say so much but was showing some restraint as our little girls were near by.  Seeing an advantage here, I pressed the issue for my entertainment, “And did these ladies, give you wings?”  Yup that did it…He started to say something, but the words tripped out!  I am now laughing and feeing some sense of guilt I try to help him recover some manhood left.  “The worst part was that there was a guy in the other aisle watching all of this laughing!” He said.  “I was mortified, I was trapped.”  He then holds out his prize.  “If these aren’t the ones you want, I am sorry.  I am not going back there!”  I laughed and said, “Thank you, and not many men would take a beating like that.”  With that I gave him a hug and kiss.  As he started to walk away, I looked at the products and stated, “Hey, they don’t have wings!”  I was greeted with a killer look and a stuffed animal that flew out of no where and hit me in the head. 

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The Magic Bean

So I was working my night shift in which I had people tied down in leathers followed by  several calls to security for other patients getting out of hand.  (while leathers may be fun in other instances, this apparently was not one of them.  All in a night’s work of being a nurse.) 

Nurse humor

Once things settled down and everyone was comfortably sedated, I was able to get some work done and joined the others in a conversation that did not involve me giving Dilaudid in some form.  I was asked what I was doing since, according to them I have lost weight.  I shrug and stated that I worked out and changed my diet.  Apparently that was not the popular answer.  “Really”  That’s all you do?”  I didn’t know there was more to the equation.  Soon, I heard all sorts of ways to loose weight and the single common factor was….”I take this pill….”   Now if anyone knows me, I get put off when people tell me that “I just take this pill…..”  First, there is no magic pill that will give you what you want without taking something from you.  Period.  None of that shit is regulated and you have NO idea what or how much is in the magic concoction that you are subjecting your body to without the guidance of a physician.  For example, herbals…..If a person is on a blood thinner because they had suffer a heart attack and then some Joe Blow tells them of this wonder magic potion that will cure all alignments like St Johns Wort, something WILL happen when you mix the two products.   St Johns Wart will actually make your blood thinner by itself so you can imagine what two blood thinners will do…..You wind up on my floor and I have to stick your sorry ass with Vitimin K shots or give you a transfusion of platelets.   My biggest pet peeve is Dr OZ.  Granted he may be a good physician when he is handling your case personally, my beef with  him is when he promotes such pills for weight loss to the general public and people who “typically” don’t do any research on what the medication is  blindly take the pills in hope for something better and really hurt themselves in the long run without the promised weight loss.  

Potential merit....

Often, and I see this a lot, people take this supplements usually are helping themselves to a bag of potato chips while sitting on the couch surfing the channels while expecting this tiny pill to call the fairy fat patrol to come and zap away their thunder thighs and badonkadonk ass.  My point is people don’t want to work for anything any more.  Those that do believe in hard work to advance are often looked down on because they are not apart of the trend of entitlement.   So I was surprised to see some of my fellow nurses fall into this category of blind faith while stuffing their face with McDonalds hoping that they won’t have to change anything about their lifestyle.   I know that for some those types of pills may give you a boost, but remember that boost goes only so far.  It is up to the consumer to know what the trade off will be.  FYI if you are a diabetic or suffer from a cardiac issue I HIGHLY CAUSION you about any pills without consulting your physician…..THERE IS A REASON FOR THAT.  For those of you who want to lose weight to be strong….my advice is simple and won’t cost ya a thing….Get up and move!  Yes it is hard, but the pay off is great mentally, physically, and spiritually……now where is my donut!

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The Vibrator, More of a Cure than A Toy

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So I came home from work after one hellish night of patient’s deciding that they would be like Jack Nicholson in the movie, “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest” in which case I had the Haldol at the ready with an itchy trigger finger, my husband tells me, “I recorded something for you that I thought was interesting.” Okay, what he considers interesting is borderline disturbing. I was to tired to argue and while he took the kids to school, I jumped out of my work clothes and slip into something more comfortable. I grab something to eat and plopped myself down in my recliner and surf the channels for something to watch before I hit my pillow with vengeance. There I spy what my husband record, it was one of the Cinemax specials about sex. I roll my eyes, mumbling under my breath, ” It figures” and out of curiosity or fatigue not sure which, I push the play button. I was greeted by a naked women who’s’ boobs, that were mechanically enhanced, where bigger than her head, and she was going to educate me on sex toys. >Sigh< Great another informative session by Boobs with a tie- (I think they were going for a professional look.)

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As she spouted off how the dildo was used back in ancient times like Egypt and Greece – ( Greece I knew were crazy freaks) I found myself interested and amused especially when she pulled out objects that were used to conquer the tenacious sex drive! While the bouncing Boobs droned on about sex through the ages, I did (hate to admit it) learn something about the Victorian age.  According to Boobs, husbands would often visit the madams suites in the ally’s for more” dark adventures” in sex, while keeping their wives pure, (apparently they only were there for procreation and missionary style because that is acceptable sex) which led the wives to suffer from a strange illness called hysteria. Um, for the record, if I did not have my “extra activities” I would go into hysteria to.  Boob’s then went on to disclaim that the physician’s back in that time came up with a powerful cure, in which they made house visits were they would “massage” the nether regions and miraculously cure the house wives illness!  I think I choked on my drink at that point. While I am not sure how creditable Boobs was, I found it hard to believe the Victorian physicians played the part of  a classic male prostitute in the guise of curing hysteria.

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Where oh were did you get your MD doctor! So as the story goes, the physicians just had to many house calls to make and they were getting so tired and worn out ( I bet!) that they came up with the little tool called the vibrator. Now the first vibrator that one of these doctors used was built in the office and powered by coal. This was followed by a picture of these strong men shoveling coal into the furnace while the female upstairs was receiving treatment while voicing her encouragement is several high notes. ( Another way in which to use mother nature’s resource.) As time went on, improvements to the vibrator were made. In the 50’s area, the vibrator was sold incognito was a skin massager that left an after glow that lasted for days. (Funny, I bet their skin was flawless.) Even though the show lasted for about 20 mins, I was educated. While I see a lot of craziness on the floor, I am very glad that my job description does not included providing the cure to patients with hysteria, for that I will stick with Haldol and Ativan and have the doctor see ya in the morning.

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