I recently heard on the John Tesh Radio Show (and subsequently, a long 5-page article that John Tesh probably got his info from) that we never truly escape high school: the adolescent years are the years in which we all search for our identities and a sense of autonomy and the microcosm that is high school culture helps shape that for us whether we like it or not....so those us that were popular and happy in highschool tend to have an easier time maintaining that confidence while those of us who felt left out continue to struggle with insecurities.
I definitely feel that. I've struggled all my life with wanting to be "normal" and feeling as though I've failed. Lately in particular, it feels like every day at work is high school again.
I think ever since that mess with Sal, and later Lydia, and those girls (capped off here: EP Link, my outlook on work and my coworkers and myself has become increasingly more bleak. And I can't escape it. Many times I start to wallow and then frustratedly think to myself, "I'm so TIRED! I'm over it. I'm done. I don't want to waste any more energy on this pathetic, useless BULLSHIT!" And then I go to work, and I can't seem to help but suck myself right back into it. Right back into the same old office politics and drama and shenanigans.
I told myself that ever since Sal, I wuld really try my hardest not to talk about anybody, even if it's good, because you can't trust anyone there. And I would especially not let Sal rope me into gossip after her *fantastic* performance (Can you hear me rolling my eyes?). Admittedly, I was kind of amused when the first time I got an opportunity to try it in action, I realized that when I didn't respond to her shit talking about someone, she acted as if I didn't hear her and repeated it a few more times. I could literally hear the desperation in her voice to have someone validate her feelings.
It was amusing, but at the same time, quite depressing. And I also haven't totally succeeded in my goals to not get sucked in as well. It's...draining, like I said. 'm tired of it. But I can't escape. We're all so fucking damaged.
And I really feel myself regressing back to high school. Yesterday, I was at work towards the end of my shift and Lydia and Tish were right in front of me. Lydia asks Tish, "Are you working with me tonight?" and Tish said that she was. Lydia followed with "Oh, good!" in a relieved tone and Tish chuckled and asked "why?". She wouldn't say, but I filled in the blanks on my own. Just a few minutes earlier, she was in the IV room talking with everyone else on the day shift. So she had to have known they were all about to go home. The only people left in question were me and Tish. So she had to have been trying to figure out which one of us was working the afternoon/evening and if she was relieved that it was Tish, then she clearly didn't want to be around me.
Of course, that's all speculation. And a lot of it is most likely influenced by the fact that I just don't care much for Lydia. I could be wrong and just making things about me out of selfish narcisism but I can't help but feel it that way. As someone with a lifetime of anxiety and negative thinking, it's hard to think that negative things in this world don't all revolve around me. I can be a narcisisstic bitch that way; I spend a lot of time erecting a shield after hearing something and thinking "what do you mean by that!?" and then immediately telling myself "Calm down, bitch. It's probably not about you."
But anyways after that scene, I felt ostracized so I went home and immediately started looking up and downloading songs to comfort myself - songs about alienation, and loneliness, and being a freak, and being angry. I listened to a lot of songs by Garbage. I've just recently started to appreciate alternative, grunge-y rock. I used to think it was too slow and gloomy for my tastes but right now it's just right.
I hope it will pass but damn, I have so much self-loathing right now. My internal monologue is perpetually "God, just shut the fuck up! Just STOP, already!" It's like I hate myself and the rest of the world, too.
Last night I worked with Sal for the first time since our confrontation. At first I wasn't sure how to act because she's...moody. But I could tell the ice cracked at least a little when she laughed at a joke I made during a group conversation between the pharmacists and techs.
Then later she had ot leave the pharmacy to deliver something so while she was away, I started filling orders for her and when she came back, she talked to me about a nurse encounter and made eye contact. Ok. So now she's both laughing at my jokes and making eye contact so if things aren't totally back to normal, they're at least better.
As the evening wore on, she engaged me in conversation and honestly, it was like our whole thing never happened.
Not that I'm complaining about this but...that's something crazy people do, right? Hate someone's guts so severely that they seethe at them and can't make eye contact and then 2 days later, their attitude is a complete 180, just like that? I was expecting her to be warmer but not totally the same because I would figure if someone's that angry, it's going to take a while for them to come back down. Either way, I'm just glad that whole debacle is over.
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That's what a pharmacist asked me today at work - I didn't tell her but I did tell the chemo pharmacist, who is friends with her. It all came about when someone brought donuts into work and he was teasing me about it. Given the context of her question, I'm assuming that bringing up my no-sugar lifestyle didn't come about as "You know who's doing something really good for her health right now? Spilled Secrets!"
No, it was probably more like "That weirdo tech won't eat *any* sugar anymore, not even store-bought ketchup..."
I don't think I'm weird in that sense, but I did feel weird having it referred to as a "diet". I mean...technically, it *is* since the word "diet" refers to the way we eat be it healthy or not, but I guess I associate that word with weight loss, which I'm really not trying to do. Especially because I'm naturally very thin, probably from being half Asian, and I definitely don't want people thinking I'm anorexic.
I also feel a bit uncomfortable knowing that I'm tackling yet another project that makes me kind of a social outcast. It's not enough that I get ragged on for being quiet and introverted and skinny and for not drinking alcohol (and don't get me started on meditation...I haven't told ANYONE about how I like to sit in a room and do nothing for a half hour) but now I'm that health nut who has taken no-sugar to the extreme. I still do eat things I know contain sugar once in a while because of that, too...like the New Years party DH and I went to and the lunch the weekend pharmacists brought in for everyone. I don't want to be that out-of-the-circle that I refuse to eat almost everything, especially when someone cooked it.
At the same time, it does kind of offend me, though. I mean, to each their own - I'm not going to tell people what and what not to eat - but it's like "Why do I have to get teased for trying to live a better lifestyle?" Why am I the weird one for trying out something for the sake of my health and actually seeing results from it? Even at home....in my last post I said I was kind of disappointed that my family wasn't on board but I should have clarified. I didn't really expect my husband to give up sugar and though I would like my type 2 diabetic dad to take an interest, it doesn't really bother me much that he prefers to stick to Splenda. What disheartened me is the seeming lack of empathy for my own choices. Despite my resistence, my dad brought me a giant sack of Splenda and keeps telling me to try artificial sweetener even though I said I'm not going to. My husband thinks I'm exaggerating and that I'm too uptight over sugar - he doesn't use those exact words but he does rib me about it and constantly tells me "You can have sugar if you want it" and it's just obvious he doesn't take it as seriously as I do. Which is stupid given that he chooses to not eat pork and not only have I refrained from giving him any kind of negativity about it, I do the same and avoid eating pork in the house even though I love it, and I defended him when my mother visited and started insinuating that it was stupid to not eat pork. I hate to say it but sometimes after he says things like that, I do find myself thinking "Yeah, we'll see. Just wait til you're riddled with health problems and I'm not" I don't want to think things like that about my own spouse.
I feel that my health is getting better but it's also kind of one more way to feel alone and a bit ostracized. A couple of posts back I made some digs at hippies with a vegetable garden and a bread oven in the back yard, but now I think I have a better understanding of how it feels to be seen that way by others and it sucks.
Oh and btw, after failing to see sugar free bread that was also free of added sweetener, I'm seriously considering trying to bake my own bread.....
I had two recipes for ketchup - one simple and one that has "deeper, richer flavors". The simple recipe took 5 seconds , was loads cheaper and tasted better.
Homemade mustard was runny and burning hot but when I discovered my store bought mustard was already sugar free, my disappointment waned.
Homemade bbq sauce was adequate and fun to experiment with.
Homemade cereal tastes like cardboard with dried fruit. I think maybe I will just stick with hot oatmeal.
Discovered how much I really depended on sugar for taste when I whipped some heavy cream to go with my strawberries. Added a little vanilla extract but it wasn't quite the same.
My next experiment is a recipe I found for strawberry pie with no sweetener. DH and I have had good luck making "icecream" through a little milk and a ton of frozen strawberries in the blender so I'm optimistic about it.
Not so optimistic about my family's lack of shared enthusiasm for a sugar free turnaround. I was hoping my type 2 diabetic dad would jump on board but he's perfectly happy with putting splenda in everything. Maybe there's still hope...
This whole quitting-added-sugar business is getting more complicated by the day.
I recently discovered that literally every boxed cereal in my local grocery store has added sugar. All of them. Even the brands listed on the internet as being healthy and sugar-free, like Kashi's or Mom's Favorite. Hmm..how do I put this...DRIED CANE SUGAR IS STILL ADDED SUGAR! And I don't want it, I don't care if it's "only a small amount" and by the way, some of those "healthy" Kasi cereals have up to 13 grams per serving of the recommended 18 grams daily sugar.
So I've had to resolve myself to making my own cereal and condiments. I looked up recipes for granola/muesli, ketchup, mustard, bbq sauce, and worcestershire sauce.
And the more I delve into finding sugar-free alternatives, the more I find myself wandering through the worlds of the gluten-free and the paleo people. I'm not looking to go that extreme but those are the groups who actually have sugar-free alternatives and recipes.
And the more I research, the more crap I find to limit. For example, I started out just cutting out added sugar, sticking with natural sources of fructose like fruit, and otherwise eating whatever I wanted. But then I started reading about how fried foods pretty much work on your insulin as fast as added sugar. I mean, I knew fried foods were bad but I hadn't really planned on cutting them out...til now.
My plan was also to slowly eat/use the added sugar and enriched wheat products in my house and replace them with non-sugar/whole grain alternatives. I did that with bread and peanutbutter easily enough, but other sources, like ketchup are things I ignorantly bought in huge bulk size containers that will last me years. So I think I just need to cut my losses, toss out half my pantry and just get it over with.
I'm slowly turning into one of those weird health nuts freaking out in the middle of the grocery store over every nutrition label. By this time next year, I might be a hippie with a vegetable garden and a clay oven in my backyard, insisting that I have to knead my own bread...which I'm not saying is necessarily a bad thing, but definitely way unexpected and more involved than I ever thought I would be concerning food.
Normally I try to stay out of political controversy because it's not worth the headaches, but I can't keep my mind off of Bill Cosby's scandal.
I believe he's guilty.
But it's a bitter pill to swallow (no pun intended). I am compelled to follow ever news piece on Cosby more than I have on any previous celebrity scandal because the horrendousness of his accusations are the polar opposite of his public persona and it's just hard to believe. It's like someone telling me that my own father did this. It's hard to distinguish Cosby from Cliff Huxtable.
At first, I thought it was disgusting that people were so quick to accuse...but that was when there were only a few women speaking out. Now that there are over two dozen...well, when his defenders ask where the proof is, I say that 20+ accusations that span several years, many of which were given anonymously, all of which were given by women (and a couple of men) who are all over 60 years old and some of whom have made lucrative careers and plenty of money for themselves and most of them don't know eachother but yet they all have similar stories is proof enough. It's circumstantial, yes, but given logistics and common sense, it's just hard to believe that *all* of those people are lying or in some sort of conspiracy to get money or fame, especially those who chose to remain anonymous, and there have been several of those. Do I think every single accuser is telling the truth? Honestly, no. I believe there are a few that really are just out to get their moment in the spotlight. But I believe the majority are honest. I also believe the fact that he hasn't flat out denied these accusations but rather just calls them unfounded and unproven speaks volumes. I know if I were accused of something so terrible by so many, I would absolutely, unequivocally say "NO! I did NOT do that!" I would not say "Well, they have no proof" and leave it at that.
And then many still ask "Why wait until now?" The thing I've noticed about that is that most if not everyone who asks that has never been a rape victim, or at least doesn't say so. I believe the comments many people leave now are actually quite a good testament as to why all of these women would wait. Like I implied at the beginning of this post, reading about Bill Cosby as a rapist is like being in the Twilight Zone - it's impossible to imagine and difficult to believe. People are still stuck in that mode and calling these women names and berating them...and we're in a supposedly freer, more tolerant society than we were 40 years ago. If they're getting this backlash now, imagine what would have happened back then in the 60's and 70's when rape was taken even less seriously than it is today, when there were no rape kits or DNA proof, when women's complaints in general tended to be brushed off more than they are today, and especially when those women are complaining about Bill Cosby when his career was plateauing and taking off. Many rape victims of non-famous predators stay silent for years and decades because of shame and fear; I can only imagine the exponentially scary and traumatizing experience of trying to accuse someone as powerful as Cosby back in the day...even today, as proven. So yes, of course they would hide it. Who would believe them? Who *wouldn't* toss them side and dismiss them as gold diggers attempting to use Cosby to up their own fame? Perhaps they were, but does that matter - does it somehow make being drugged and molested ok? As a matter of fact, who's to say that some women haven't already tried to report him and were rebuffed? People also have to remember that these allegations aren't just popping up now, they've been splattering the media on and off for years now. And each time it happened, it made the news and disappeared quickly, because the women remained anonymous, because many were paid off, and because we as a public could never bring ourselves to condemn Cliff Huxtable. For headlines to be made, it took people who were willing to name names and tell every excrutiating detail of their stories to come out but when they do, they aren't believed.
And to be effective, I definitely think as many of them as possible need to break silence and come out. Had it only been a few women, I would have absolutely written them off as money/fame hungry leeches.
And I've read comments asking what the purpose of doing this now could be, when there's nothing to be gained anymore. I think it must be hard to hold onto a secret that painful for so many years. I imagine that they held it for as long as they could hoping to repress memories and to somehow make it all go away with time. I imagine that especially as victims and their attackers grow old, there comes a time when they want a clean slate to be able to end their lives with a conscious that lets them know they did the right thing. I believe that for many years they thought the best thing they could do was to forget and in being unable to do so, and living in a generation where communication is easier than ever, they finally let it go. And when one or two have the courage to come out, it awakens a strength in the others that they didn't know they had previously...safety in numbers. Know that they aren't alone and that their cases aren't isolated. We've all had situations where we might never have done something on our own but when a group of others around us do it, whether it be good or bad, suddenly we're not as fearful anymore. I don't think rape victims are exempt from that. It's human nature.
Do I think he deserves to have all of his upcoming shows removed and his accolades and accomplishments taken away? I don't know. Probably not. His morality as a human being doesn't lessen the impact of his professional work. Bill Cosby's personal character doesn't necessarily make his comedy less funny or The Cosby Show less motivational, so long as we can all acknowledge that who he is is not the same as who he pretends to be on stage or in television.
I still like The Cosby Show. I still like his standup. In much the same manner I'm not a fan of Woody Allen the person but I love his movies. John Lennon was despicable but his artistic talent is undeniable. There has to be a separation of the artist from their work, and I don't think there's anything wrong with that. People are multi-faceted and nobody is all good or all evil.
I think he's guilty. That's what I started this blog with. But in writing and progressing with my thoughts, I realize that the message I so wanted to speak really had little to do with Cosby himself...he's the outer support that ties everything together but the real foundation or the "meat" of my thoughts really lies in the victims...in rape victims in general. Being a rape victim isn't anything but complicated and the more I read, the more I realize that even today, they don't have much of a voice, not really (and don't even get me started on women who lie about rape and make speaking out for actual victims harder...I disdain them possibly more than I do actual rapists). So maybe I just wanted to be one more voice for them. I changed the title of this entry from "Bill Cosby" to "Cosby's Victims" because that's who has really taken up all this space in my head as of late. He's there, of course, but it's really those 20+ people and their representation of "rape culture" past and present that make me think and that make me unable to remain silent.
I've never had New Year's resolutions but I suppose at the age of 26, I've finally made some, albeit a few months early (or several months late).
1. I'm meditating...not as regularly as I want but I make an effort to find time most days. I need to be more calm, and more focused, and less spacey. Mindful meditation will hopefully help with that. Maybe if I'm more mindful I can catch bouts of moodiness or anxiety before they get out of control.
2. I gave up sugar. Initially because I'm skinny-fat - thin everwhere with a belly pooch. And getting closer to being 30, I have to face that my metabolism is slowing and I can't just eat whatever anymore. I've only been drinking water or fruit tea, and I've started counting the grams of sugar I take in, and trying to avoid anything with added sugar if I can help it. So to get my sweet fix, my intake of fruit has increased. What I've found is that within 2 days I realized I have a lot more energy without sugar. It was kind of amazing how fast I started seeing benefits of reducing my sugar intake. What was also amazing is how unstable my sugar levels were. I was eating so much sugar and having so many spikes and drops as a result that a day or two after quitting, I also experienced a bout of hypoglycemia and came close to passing out...thank goodness I work in a pharmacy because I grabbed a few tubes of gluco-gel and sucked them down, right before I passed out - my vision was becoming white and hazy and my hearing was gone so I believe I was just in time.
3. I'm eating more protein. Consequently, a coworker said that if I'm having a ton of sugar cravings, it means I'm not getting enough protein - which helps stabilize insulin levels. So I did the math for my weight, lifestyle, and body size, and am trying to get around 45 grams of protein every day (not exact, just around that number). I read that too much protein causes kidney problems so I'm also careful to not eat too much. I don't get much meat during the day so I supplement with a protein shake with whey protein, milk, and peanutbutter, which gives me about 38 grams. Of course, I skip it or reduce my portion size if I know I'm getting a lot of protein through other food that day (like bbq burgers - yumm!! Always have more than one of those)
4. I'm doing stomach vaccuums. In response to #2, I've started doing TVA exercises to tighten my core ab muscle, specifically stomach vaccuums. The TVA is what's mainly responsible for having a flat stomach, and other ab exercises work around that so some people have a muscular exterior but their guts still hang a bit, and it weakens with age. I don't know if it's going to work, but it can't hurt, and it's easy to do.
I know it's superstitious, but I am a little worried that by typing all of this out, I'll quit making an effort. I have a hard time sticking with new, healthy habits and I've refrained from mentioning anything because it always seems like I fall off the wagon when I do. But I can't help it, I feel compelled to document everything. I'm going to find a calendar and mark everthing with meditation and tva exercises so I can keep track of how often I do them. And with that, I'm off to find one and do my new routine :)
The phones are ringing. The printer is going. My heart is racing. I run from station to station trying to avoid the phones, picking up IV bags to send to floors, sorting out notices of pills that have stocked out from various med machines and trying to keep organized.
"Hey SpilledSecrets!" I hear as I dash past the controlled substances pharmacist, Mrs Fay.
"Hey Mrs. Fay" I call back, on my way to label a patient's med order.
I pass by Mrs Fay's station once I've filled my order and make eye contact.
"I have some pills and hydrocodone liquid that needs prepacking when you get a chance." she tells me.
"Ok, I can do it now." and I pick up the bottles along with some empty unit-dose cups and an oral syringe before dropping off my order and returning to my station.
At my station, I decide to prepack the pills first. I lay out four sheets with 300 blister packs and examine my pill bottles. Oxycodone 5 mg. All 3 bottles have the same lot number and expiration date, so no need to separate which pills come from which bottles. I methodically pour the pills into my hand and distribute them into the blisterpacks, one pill per blister, and then move to the computer to type my labels - control number, NDC, lot #, expiration date, manufacturer, brand and generic names and strength. I double check, and hit print. The sheets of labels come out warm and I savor them on my cold hands for a minute before peeling off the backing and sticking them to the blister packs. I drop them off at Mrs Fay's station, satisfied with my work.
Next is hydrocodone liquid. Thirty-two 15ml single dose cups. I line up all the cups first, nice and orderly - three rows of 10 little white cups with 2 at the end. I open and fit the bottle with the right stopper that will allow me to insert my oral syringe without spilling. I look at my 60ml oral syringe - it will fill 4 cups at a time so it shouldn't take long. I pull the syringe barrel back all the way, remembering that if I don't inject any air into the bottle, pulling out the liquid is hard because the pressure will pull my syringe back into the bottle. I insert the syringe into the bottle and flip it upside down, preparing to push some air into it in order to release the liquid.
As I push the air in, I flash back to interning as a student. I was allowed to prepack the hydrocodone liquid and as I pushed the air in, the tech observing said to be careful because one time another tech did that and ---
My eyes are closed now but i don't remember closing them. I lick my lips and taste the hydrocodone syrup. My eyelids are heavy with the sugary red liquid. I take my glasses off, wipe my face quickly and open my eyes. The bottle is again upright on the table with a mass of syrup puddled around it. Around the puddle are splatters of syrup. I immediately back away before anyone can see me and, hiding behind the wall at my station, I frantically try to wipe away the hydrocodone that is streaming down my face and in my hair. It's everywhere. It's on my clothes, down my arms and covering my hands. I turn on the front facing camera of my phone and use it as a mirror to wipe away the excess syrup from my face and smooth my hair back as best as I could.
Then I survey the area. There are drops on the floor and I quickly and discreetly try to wipe them away with my shoe. But the more I try, the more I realize that my explosion didn't just occur at my station's table but had blown outwards of 10 feet covering the entire work area. I turn around to look at the back wall and realize that it has even splattered all the way against the wall at face level. For a split second I turn back to the puddle on the table and consider trying to suck up and save as much of the puddle as I can with the syringe for the prepacking, and then decide that no, it's not only unethical but it won't do any good. I reach behind me and grab the blue hospital jacket I had worn into the anesthesia dept earlier in the morning and use it to cover my soaked scrub top as I rush to the bathroom to try to clean myself up better.
I run water over my face, in my hair and over my hands. I soap them up and rinse. My eyelids are still sticky. I'm not red anymore but I can't get clean, either. I turn and put my hand on the door to exit, feeling a hot flush of embarrassment and shame at having to admit what happened. I take a deep breath, march out with my head held high, turn to Mrs Fay and blurt out, "You're not getting all 32 cups today!"
She frowns sympathetically "Oh, did you have a spill?"
"Something like that" I say. " It exploded.
"Aww, and it's all in your hair and so early in the morning, too!" Then she chuckled. "You'll have to go around like that all day, too!" She paused and concluded with "I have a stock out ready on the 6th floor whenever you're ready to deliver it."
"I'll get to it in a minute. I need time to calm myself" I reply and head back towards my station.
I pause again, before deciding I'd rather not walk around with a dirty, sticky scrub top, so I take it off and put on a fresh hospital jacket over the long black shirt I wore underneath. It's far too big and my tiny 5'3" 115 lb fr
I work on my station to clean it up, over and over. I grab gauze and go over it multiple times with water and rubbing alcohol. It feels like it's getting better but I know it's still sticky and I can't gauge just how sticky because my hands are coated in syrup as well. I wipe down the table, the walls, the floor, the bottle, and the cups to the best that I could but it's not good enough. "Oh, well it'll have to do" I think to myself, sighing and resigning to the fact that I'm no match for a bottle of hydrocodone. There's too much to do to spend my whole day wiping and rewiping everything.
I take another deep breath and look at my prepacking supplies. The bottle is upright but the syringe is still laying on the table, pulled back and with the stopper stuck to its tip. I stick it back in and draw up hydrocodone, squirting it in 15ml increments into the unit dose cups. As I fill them, a smile draws on my lips and I can't help but laugh a little. I'm kind of impressed with myself. I empty the bottle and count the cups I've filled. Twenty six. Out of 118mls, I've spilled 90mls. I tell Mrs Fay.
"Only 26 cups! You really lost a lot!"
You're telling me.
I finish labelling the cups and wipe down the bottle again, until it doesn't feel sticky to me anymore before handing them back to Mrs Fay. Later she complains that her fingers are sticky from the bottle. She and another tech also advise me to wipe down the sticky table, which I also thought was finally smooth again. Like I said, I'm so covered in it, I can't tell anymore.
The other techs and pharmacists are good natured about it. I recount my story lightheartedly but really, I'm bragging at the intensity of my explosion. The IV pharmacist smiles at me and goes "Going for any more narcotics? A spill, huh?" and jokingly winks at me. Another tech jokes "If we see her sucking on her hair, we'll know what she was really doing!" and then later, she walked through my area and asked "How in the world did you get it all the way over here!?" Yet another tech widens her eyes and exclaims "How did you tell Mrs Fay!? Was she mad!?" Two more techs simply laugh.
One tech assures me "Don't worry, you're not the first to do that and you won't be the last."
"Maybe not, but I think I set a record" I say.
"Yeah, you definitely did that! I've never seen it spray that far before. When you screw something up, you do it *really* well!"
Later in the day, another tech jokes "I think the problem is that there's too many people here."
"Yeah." I say. "I'll volunteer to go home"
"You have the best reason to." She laughs. "You're full of hydrocodone!"
A pharmacist laughs and mocks "I'm full of narcotics, can I go home?"
Before I leave, another pharmacist asks if I work tomorrow. I affirm that i do, and she inquires "So what will you do for excitement tomorrow?"
It'll definitely be hard to top that one.
I have been typing up a storm this morning. I kept telling myself I need to update my EP stuff but I've always lost motivation. This morning I went back and reread a bunch of my stuff, and I think it's invigorated me. Sorry if I sound conceited, but I'm a really good writer when I get passionate about something...or maybe it's just that I reread my own stuff so I have a personal connection to it all. Whatever. Doesn't matter so much in the end.
In my last blog entry, I was worried about making too many mistakes. Well, I was in the IV room again on Thursday and the pharmacist said something that really lit my day up. As usual, I was doing my batch of IV fluids for the next day and worrying that I wasn't fast enough. The pharmacist came over and started helping me label the batch items that didn't need to be made and I kind of started to feel worse - like "Man, if he has to help me, I must be really behind." And then out of the blue he goes, "It's a pleasure working with you...."
I paused and watched his face, waiting for the "but" criticism to flow in. It didn't. So finally I half-joked, "Thanks! I was waiting for the 'but' to follow since that's how this pharmacy works"
"No. It is *really* a pleasure to have you around. I can relax with you here."
That really meant a lot to me, more that he'll ever know. Earlier that week, I was having lunch with 2 techs and one of them asked if we ever come back to lunch during IV shifts and have a ton of work to do. One said "yes" I paused, puzzled, and said "No" The tech that asked then said, "Then he must make your drips for you when you're at lunch. he doesn't do that for us. He'll only do it for some techs" and she went on to say that he's really become complacent in the IV room. Trying my best to mediate the situation, and also because I'm insecure, I responded with "Maybe he just helps the slower ones. I'm new so I know I'm not as fast as you guys..." and they affirmed than I'm fast (also good news). I continue with, "Well, it's not just him, the other pharmacists do it, too. Like on the weekends, when we're understaffed, they'll let me pull my entire floorstock all by myself but when Lisa floor stocks, Pharmacist X helps her pull half of it." The second tech responded with, "They all have their favorites. Like, I know I'm Pharmacist Y's favorite, she loves me! And I'm pretty sure you're the IV pharmacist's favorite...although maybe that's because you're new and it hasn't worn off yet." I lowered my voice and followed with, "Yeah, maybe that's it" both agreeing with her and feeling insulted by her comments at the same time. So the IV Pharmacist telling me he genuinely likes working with me leads me to believe that perhaps I'm the favorite after all...and Lisa. He's got her cell number, and as far as I know, she's the only one. And I know that out of the other techs he usually works with, one is a drama queen, one has ADHD, and one likes to do her own thing regardless of what anyone says, and since the IV pharmacist is non-confrontational, I can see what he means when he says he can relax with me.
Although now, I'm second-guessing other things. Because the IV pharmacist is the one I blogged about having a crush on earlier. It's pretty much gone now, and has been since I made that post. But...now he's gotten touchier. Not inappropriately so, but for example, he told me a story where Pharmacist Z (is the alphabet pharmacist list confusing yet?) told him, "I don't know who's in that bathroom but they've flushed 3 times and they've been in there for an hour" so they were kinding of picking on the situation and waited to see who would come out. He told me when he saw the person come out, he never heard the sink come on so he joked "And so you know the next thing he's going to do is come up and be all 'And how are you? How has your day been?'" and then he grabbed my hand and cupped it in his and it felt like he held it for a long time, too. And instinctively, at first, I started to pull it away. My sense of what is normal and what isn't is blurred because I've always had anxiety issues and therefore a guarded emotional wall up around me and a lack of social grace and I don't touch people at all so I can't help but wonder if that moment was in the realm of regular interaction or if it actually was a bit *too* close. Because I remember when the married guy was flirting with me and I mentioned something he did, thinking it was innocent and everyone assured me "Oh, no, he was trying to get close to you!" I just can't tell. Even with other straight women, some of them are "huggers" and I'm not, and I couldn't tell you when an appropriate time to hug people would be and when it's not ok. but anyways, on Thursday, he told me he stopped at the bank and he thought one of the tellers and a guy there was having an affair - he gave me some details but then mentioned that when he came in, the guy jumped up and "was like this" and then he moved close behind me and rested his hand on my back, and again, it just felt like it was there forever" Doing my best to ignore it, I joked back "If I was having an affair and he tried to hide behind me it wouldn't work! I'd just push him away and be like 'Oh, hey honey! Idk who that guy is!'" and we had a few laughs over it. But in the back of my head....
I feel silly, like a thirteen year old girl who asks "Does this mean he likes me?" and then gives you some romanticized story about an interaction that the boy in question doesn't even remember anymore. But I have a history of missing cues and enough of that has started making me paranoid. I tend to make friends with guys who I think have innocent intentions and then find out later they weren't innocent at all. I'm aware that I'm naive to those things. I mean...I did tell him I used to be in an affair and he told me his relationship with wife #2 started out as one...does he think that means my morals are loosened, or can be, and that I'm easy bait? Or does he just have a crush, as I did, and is just flirting? Or...not at all? Am I reading too much into it? I'm always telling myself that I probably am. That I have to be.
Because I mean, it's not like he has *my* cell number, first of all. He definitely has Lisa's and as far as I can tell, there's nothing going on between them. She even eats lunch with him sometimes, which none of the other techs do, so if anyone was going be the one he'd most likely start anything with, it would be her, and I don't think he has. I mentioned before that he's naturally very warm and friendly so it's definitely not odd that he might be more comfortable making physical contact with others...right? Of course. And besides, the longer we work together, the more comfortable we'll be around eachother so maybe the fact that he's started touching me is simply a result of that. Also, it's not like we have secret conversations. The things he tells me are things that he eventually tells everyone. And when i really think about it, we also have one straight female tech that has done everything I've mentioned - she's caressed my back and held my hand (to look at my bracelet/ring combo) for a prolonged time (in my opinion) and I've never once thought "is she a lesbian?" so why should I think that about this pharmacist just because he's a man? Maybe I just answered my own question. I don't know.
I'm hoping this entry will do for me what my last entry about the IV pharmacist did and squash any weird thoughts flowing into my head. Here's hoping.
I am so confused right now.
I've been having internal conflicts at work due to my lack of attention to detail. I take my job seriously...particularly in the IV room, and I feel like I keep messing up on little details. It really gets to me because these IVs are going into people's veins and I just feel so totally inadequate when I make dumb mistakes, especially yesterday when it happened over and over. I drew up the additives for my TPNs but drew up 2 extra millileters of sodium chloride for one. I mixed a drip in 100 mls of normal saline instead of 50 mls. Stuff like that. Stuff that I should know better. What would happen if I didn't have a pharmacist double checking my work? I keep thinking back especially to the chemo pharmacist, who is working with toxic substances and could really make a fatal accident very easily - he hasn't, and nobody double checks his work. I want to be like that.
Even when not in the IV room - when it's time to pull drugs for floorstocking, we have a lot of very long lists to go through and despite my best efforts, I feel as if I make the most errors (which isn't very much but still, when another tech consistently makes no errors and I consistently make three, it's disheartening to me)...pulling similar-sounding pills or not paying attention to whether or not they're delayed-release or immediate...again, stuff I feel I should really know.
The worst part is that it feels as though the harder I try, the harder I fall. I guess I get so focused on my fear of being perfect, that I sabotage my best efforts. For example, I'll repeatedly remind myself to check every detail - the drug, the strength, the amount, and the type. And I DO check those things, more than once I might add. And then...it's wrong. Then I think, "How stupid can I be that I mentally check off the WRONG thing multiple times and still not see it!?!?!?"
Also, I know part of it is because I'm constantly sleep-deprived. DH gets home between 10-11pm, and I go to bed at 11pm, wake at 5:30am, and only end up getting 6 or so hours of sleep, which isn't enough. But I don't want to go to bed earlier because I want some time after work with DH. That's really put me at odds.
I feel that by all accounts, I should be a naturally detail-oriented person. I'm a Virgo and an ISFJ; both personality desc
Maybe part of the blame is my natural anxiety and my desire to be fast and efficient. I do have to admit that I often feel rushed. Most of the advice I've read about how to become more detail-oriented involve making lists and planning for long-term projects. But my job doesn't work like that. I don't have projects, I have assignments which change daily and have to be done ASAP. I never know which drugs will have to be restocked or which IV labels will print, nor HOW MANY but I do know they all have to be done within the hour or less, sometimes stat. It's hard to plan ahead for things like that, and like I've said, even when I've tried, my anxiety gets the best of me and I just fail even more miserably. One of the best pieces of advice I've read is to take a break and come back to it later with "new eyes" because when seeing somebody else's work, or your own work after a period of rest, you're more likely to notice mistakes. I know from experience that this is definitely true. Unfortunately, my job does not allow for that.
The times that I do feel detail-oriented are times when I think back to my college days, getting my English degree. I wrote a lot of papers. Papers that required meticulous record-keeping and researching, and tons of proofreading. I put out damn good essays, and I usually have far more than the required number of sources. Note-taking has always been something daunting to me because I tend to try to cram in as many details as possible within the time span, which meant a ton of abbreviations and lines and lines full of jumbled text and bullet points. I also like to draw sometimes, which in and of itself requires attention to detail - shapes, colors, and shades that require the artist to see separately, in order to make them create a whole image. And all those days where DH has reminded to calm down and take a deep breath because I worried and fretted over every detail that didn't matter.
But then there are things, like this blog, where clearly attention to detail has been thrown to the wind. I often submit blog entries rife with grammatical errors and typos (especially leaving "I" in lowercase) that I can see after they've been submitted, but I never care enough to go back and fix. Or the times when I try to follow a recipe while I'm home alone with nobody to judge me or make me rush, and I STILL manage to overlook something or screw something up. I've always been a messy person and never one to keep lists or organization - try as I might, everything usually ends up jumbled into one big messy pile.
I must admit that right now my mental faculties are so blurred that I'm having trouble distinguishing between what is natural for a detail-oriented person and what is an unrealistic obsession with trying to be perfect.
I feel that I can get better if I work on it, and if I try to do it in my daily life, not just at work - starting with proofreading this blog. I am worried that doing so will again cause me to mess up even worse because of my hyperfocusing, but not trying will certainly only yield the same, discouraging results. I'm kind of at a loss of what to do or what to think.
That simple. That complicated. That cliched.
I was distracting myself on EP's Q&A. Then the questions stopped. And for a few seconds, I sat there, wondering "What do I do now?" There are plenty of options - tv, reading, games, music, youtube, sculpting, drawing, etc. But I didn't really feel like doing anything; I finally tried youtube and looked up videos for grav3yardgirl, who I can't help but be drawn to because she's so loud and outspoken and just totally herself and yet also alone most of the time but the videos I happened to catch today were ones she did with friends or family members and I just watched the natural connection that happens when two people are close in a friendly way. Unlike her solo videos where there's almost a sense of trying too hard for approval and acceptance of her viewers, I saw grav3yard girl smile, laugh and joke witht he other person in her videos in a very simple, relaxed, naturally goofy, almost giggly-school-girlish way, and then I was hit with the overwhelming sense of emptiness. My husband isn't home; he's out celebrating a friend's birthday, which I can't attend because I have to sleep for work tomorrow. That's kind of been happening a lot lately.
I don't have any friends of my own to talk to. It almost felt as if I did at work today in the IV room but it's a false sense. Crush is definitely fading so I think blogging about it the other day did the trick. Sometimes my feelings get amped up and I get happy and excited over something or a series of somethings and then when something like this happens where everything stops for a minute and I no longer have a space or a person to put all of that energy into, I really feel how truly alone I am.
And really, it doesn't happen *too* often. I'm very much a natural introvert and hermit so the interaction with my husband and coworkers is often enough to keep me filled. But nights like tonight where it's not enough can be a bit rough.
That's all. I wish someone were here. I wish I had that kind of connection I watched in youtube today. I wish, I wish, I wish.
Tonight is another time for psychoanalysis because I can't deny it anymore. I have a silly schoolgirl crush. There, it's out. It's on one of the very charismatic pharmacists I work with and I have several theories as to why it's happened, which I will get to in a moment. But first, I also have to get out that a crush is strictly *ALL* it is. That affair I had when I started this blog before my husband and I were together has caused me to hardcore guilt over finding anyone besides my husband attractive and I feel like I always have to justify myself TO myself, even though it's perfectly natural and everyone is bound to find others attractive, no matter what their relationship status is. But anyways, I definitely don't have designs on this man. I don't want to do anything to him, flirt with him, initiate anything. At all. The thought of actually being with him *like that* actually grosses me out, which makes this crush all the more complicated. So, without further ado, a numbered list of possible reasons for my inapprpriate infatuation:
1. He reminds me of MM.
This is the one that makes me feel the worst. Immediately, before I ever had a spark, I noticed the way he interacted with others was very, VERY similar to the married man I was seeing a few years back. He's really laid back and friendly and has an easy sense of humor. As a matter of fact, they're both Tauruses (Yes, that is an astrology reference; stop rolling your eyes at me) and both have very Taurus-y down-to-earth personas. Maybe I just like Taurus's? The same way I like people born under Cancer. My husband is a Cancer and most of my friends growing up were, as well. But anyways, dude reminds me of MM. And maybe that stirs up old, reminiscient feelings.
2. He's nice to me.
That reason is exactly as pathetic as it sounds. Because while we're being frank, I've mentioned time and time again that I'm totally socially inept. I have a hard time connecting with people and often feel aloof and outcast. And like I said before, he has a naturally friendly, laid back personality. He greets me in the morning, jokes with me, shares parts of his life with me, asks me about my life, and remembers the things I say, and, well, people just don't do that with me much. Today as he walked by, he gave me a friendly tap on the arm and asked me about my art and I visibly lit up as I told him about my new venture into sculpting. When we were in the IV room together, I would spend time doodling and drawing (and again, since we're being honest, it was really a ruse so that I wouldn't have to awkwardly make conversation cause, you know, socially inept) and he actually saved my crappy doodle and was enthusiastic about it. So maybe I'm just latching onto someone's friendliness because of my own loneliness, like a dehydrated person getting a taste of plain water and feeling like it was the best tasting thing in the whole world.
3. He's an authoritative figure who's nice.
This is where Freud really comes in. I've always been a Daddy's girl and further more, I've always been a timid Daddy's girl who leaned heavily on Dad to make decisions, especially since my relationship with Mom is volatile and I haven't lived with her since I was in 2nd grade. Now that I'm 26 and an adult making my own decisions and living away from home, maybe, in my own sick way, I'm looking for the comfort of my father and misinterpreting it in a romanticized way. It's never been as strong as this, but this isn't the first time I've found myself with a few stomach butterflies over an older, educated, friendly man. Most recently it happened with my pharmacy professor even though he was not my type at all - had a 70's mustache, a paunch, and was just...middle-aged looking. But I liked receiving attention from him. I guess it just made me feel protected to have someone I looked up to and admired treat me with friendliness.
4. He's not bad looking.
This one I'm still iffy on. Because on one hand, he has that distinguished older man look with salt-and-pepper hair but a relatively young-looking face, like Dr Drew, and I've always thought Dr Drew was an attractive older man. On the other hand, there's something inherently geeky about him. He's tall so he hunches a little when he stands sometimes and he wears short-sleeved business shirts and the sleeves are too wide - just screams more "suspenders-wearing, retainer-mouthed nerd" than "smooth ladie's man". And his arms are really hairy, which didn't used to bug me but since marrying a hair-free man, I've really come to appreciate smooth skin. Out of all the male pharmacists, though, he's definitely the best looking.
5. I want to be wanted.
Easily the most shallow reason on the list. I'm pretty, and for most of my life, I've had a lot of attention from men. But shit, I'm halfway to 30 now and already finding slight lines in my face telling me those days are numbered. And I have typical girl insecurities. So, I'm well aware that perhaps even if I don't want him, I still want him to want *me* - the thrill of the chase and the affirmation that I'm still a looker and still desirable. That awful Pussycat Dolls song "Dont cha" is #5's anthem.
So I think that covers everything. I've found myself putting more effort into my appearance before work and I get a little nervous and stupid around him but when I imagine what it would be like to be in another MM situation, the word "ew" comes to mind. Also, I feel kind of horrified at the thought of trading in the amazing life I have with my handsome, sweet, loving, wonderful husband for him - the hairy nerd with an ex wife, a current wife, a slew of kids aged teenager to young adult (kids are not my thing. I definitely want NOTHING to do with kids, even if they are close to my own age) and a rumor mill at the place we work.
I just don't know how to feel. I feel like it's totally harmless, but guilty at the same time, and I feel like I can't help it. Also, it's really weird to have that puppy love crush feeling mixed with a sense of disgust over the same issue. But I think getting it out helped. Maybe it'll weigh a little less on my mind now.
All day yesterday, I told myself that today, the Monday I had off after working my weekend, would be a productive one. I'd been telling myself ever since I got hired, that I would get the continuing education (CE) requirements for my technician license out of the way and today was going to be the day. I expected an all-day process because as a student in the pharmacy, I witnessed the other techs stressing over getting their CEs - they were sharing with eachother, complaining about those who didn't share, and promising themselves that next year they'd do it early so they wouldn't have to stress next time certification renewal came around. So I thought it would be a pretty time-consuming and slightly frustrating process and with this year being my first as a tech, I figured it would be extra hard doing everything for the first time. I also thought it would be similar to the education requirements I took when I worked for the car dealership...each module took at least 2 hours.
I was very pleasantly surprised and proud of myself when I managed to get all 10 hours of education for this year completed and logged in the national board of pharmacy's monitoring program in 20-40 minutes. "What the fuck is the big deal, guys?", I thought to myself, talking to my fellow techs in my head. I still don't understand why they were stressing out over it.
So, after what I thought was going to be an all day process was finished in less than an hour, the next thing I figured was to go ahead and get my driver's license redone with my new address. I'd been holding it off because after my birth control presciption ran out, I'd been getting hormonal acne and I wanted to get it under control before retaking my photo...after all, this was my chance at redemption for the horrible photo I'd been packing. Today I decided the face beasts had come down enough to take an acceptable photo, straightened my hair, did my makeup, and prepared to go to the DMV.
That's when it happened...the chaos. Where was my wallet? Usually it's in one of three places - the car, the little table by the front door that holds loose change and our keys, or the kitchen counter. After 5 OCD-like car searches, tearing the house up and then cleaning it in hopes of discovering my wallet, and even a period in plastic gloves and a face mask rummaging through maggot-infested trash, I slowly, begrudgingly accepted the truth. My wallet was not lost, it was stolen. I'm not the most organized person, but when it comes to my wallet, I'm not THIS disorganized.
Accepting what happened was a process that came by in bursts throughout my frantic search. Every once in a while, I would pause and try to remember more details about my last encounter. When was the last time I had it? When? WHEN? Target! A memory flashed back of my trip to target, buying sandals, and checking my wallet to make sure my card was there. When was that? I stopped rummaging and raced to the computer room, logging onto my bank account online. Wednesday. Yes. I go back to throwing clothes, cushions, blankets, and various knock knacks around trying to recover the lost wallet. I pause again. What else did I do on Wednesday? Enchiladas...Wednesday was my day off and I'd promised my husband I would make enchiladas. Did I leave it in the grocery store? No. Target was the last place I shopped and I checked my wallet at the register - it was attached to my shoulder by a strap so I definitely carried it out to the car with me. I continue searching, opening drawers and looking behind furniture. Speaking of enchiladas, I remembered that Thursday, my stomach was upsetting me and I wondered if it was from the enchiladas. Is that important? Yes...another flashback. I drove to work, early as usual. It's my custom to get there 20 minutes early and just sit in my car and relax a moment before work. Thursday morning, that 20 minutes was interrupted by an upset stomach. I raced out of my car and started heading out of the parking garage to the bathroom. Halfway down the stairs, I had remembered I had no money for lunch and had to run back to my car. I took my bank card out of my wallet and stuffed it into my scrub pocket before racing back. So I definitely had it Thursday. But did I use the wallet afterwards? I tried to think. My husband and I went to Chili's and I had it...when was that? It had to be earlier than Thursday, because I'd been busy the whole week. So it wasn't there. I'd been busy the whole week...thinking again, I realized that since Thursday, including Saturday and Sunday, I had gone nowhere except to work and home. In fact, on Sunday, DH and I left to go shopping and I remembered noticing that my wallet wasn't in the car...I had figured I must've taken it inside and shrugged it off because there was nothing in it that I needed for that trip.
And that's when I had no other choice. I walked to the living room and sat on a chair, and did nothing except stare ahead and mentally record the feeling of my adrenaline pumping and my chest thumping with anxiety. I told myself to relax because I know what happened now, and I couldn't change it. It didn't work. My husband came home and searched for it and I just sat there and waited for him to come to the same realization. He finally did when he noticed the huge bag of tools he put in the trunk of my car was also missing.
Telling myself that at least he (I assume it's a "he" because I doubt many women would take a tool bag) didn't get my debit card, I decided that as long as I was being "productive," I might as well go and keep up the streak, although now it seriously sucked. I looked up some info online and printed out a form to fill out for a new social security card and dug out my birth certificate. my new cards will have to wait until Wednesday because I work the rest of this week but I guess I could at least get my ducks in a row now while I can. At some point I'll also have to get some replacement health insurance cards and a new birth control presc
I'd been looking forward to getting everything done and finished so that I can finally have a lazy day off with no errands to think about. But right when you think you're ahead on a Monday, you find out just how behind you really are.
Working in the hospital world, we have what are called "narcotic discrepancies." Basically, our medicine machines (Pyxis machines) keep a stricter lock on narcotic inventories. Unlike regular meds, when you choose to deal with narcs, it makes you count what's already in there before you remove any. And if, for example, you type in 14 or 12, when there's really 13 pills in there, it creates a discrepancy, which must then be documented with a logged-in witness to record what really happened. When things get dodgy enough, employees have to take a piss test - Idk about nurses but for those of us in pharmacy, enough discrepancies, with or withour a piss test, can mean disciplinary action or loss of job. So it's a big deal.
Sunday, I was minding my own business, going through all the floors to deliver "the batch" - the group of IV bags and mixtures due the next day for in-patients. I get to ICU, and a nurse is frustrated because she can't figure out how to return the rapid intubation/RID box (a little box with emergency meds for when a patient needs to have a tube down their throat) back into the Pyxis....SHE DIDN'T EVEN KNOW WHAT IT WAS CALLED! AND IT WAS WRITTEN RIGHT ON THE BOX!!! That should have been my first sign. She asks me for help and I oblige - I sign in, show here where the button for the rid box is, click it - the door that holds RID boxes unlocks and swings open, we return the box - no big deal, right?
So next she says "Oh, you're so smart, can you also figure out how to fix this?" and she points at the screen. I see that she and another nurse had been doing their daily rounds of checking all the narcotics and they had created two discrepancies on themselves. I should have walked away or signed out but I'm still thinking,"this lady is a nurse, she's older, she does this every day, it's probably a non-issue" so I agree, again, stupidly. I didn't even think to sign out before she opened the drawer to be inventoried and typed her own name as the witness. She recounts the morphine syringes - there are 20. I type "20" into beginning count and it says it's wrong. I explain that I'm not sure what she did, but it thinks she has either more or less than 20.
Being that I have only been there for a little over a month, some things I learn the hard way and what happened next is one of them. This drug is located in what is called a carousel drawer. Unlike the other square drawers, or cubies, a carousel drawer is a covered, round drawer compartmentalized like a pizza with one opening on the cover. When you scan or type in the drug you want, the computer finds it and spins the carousel until the right drug's compartment is under the opened slot...it's a protective measure. What I did not realize is that when you inventory a carousel drug, you can't just inventory that one drug, you have to do the whole damn thing. So she opens the cover, and I see 12 compartments full of narcotics. And I also realized at this moment that once you're signed in to inventory all of these drugs, you're stuck there - it won't let you sign out because the drawer has to be closed first, which can't happen until the drugs selected have been inventoried.
So what I thought was going to be a quick in-and-out trip to drop off a few IV bags turned into an ordeal, and I am not happy. Now realize the whole time, that I am stuck doing all of this under my name. She begins to count drugs and tells me how many to type in - so we're going around the drawer and she gets to fentanyl patches. She tells me 2, I type in 2. "No, that's wrong", the Pyxis says. "Please recount" pops on the screen. She tells me 3. I type in 3. The computer accepts it. Then she realizes there's 4. But the computer has already decided that 4 must have been wrong because when you're asked to recount, it sometimes takes the second number as being the accurate number. So there goes another discrepancy. Now I'm angry.
She goes through the other drawers and I notice she starts to get even more scatter-brained. She's knocking drugs into the wrong drawer and when she encounters the two discrepancies that had been on there originally (the ones she asked me to help inventory), she's confused. She also keeps forgetting that I'm the one logged in so everytime a "witness required" sign-in popped up she repeatedly points to me and then points to the computer before realizing SHE is the one who had to witness. When I describe what happens next, I can only say that the situation mimicked a useless parent making eye contact with a stranger. You know when someone's kid is being a brat and screaming and poking people and throwing things, and being a general nuisance and you look at the parent as if to say, "Well, are you going to take control of your kid?" and they give you this unbelievably stupid ex
We finally get to the end of the drugs and OH, SURPRISE! There are 2 MORE discrepancies in addition to the ones she just made!!! So she just documents them all as "miscounted"...still under my name.
So I kind of stewed over it for the rest of the afternoon - I can't tell my boss because it's Sunday and I'm off Monday. So today when I get to work - OF *FUCKING* COURSE there are three more goddamned discrepancies and they all list me as the one with prior access so guess who gets the blame for that??? I finally tell my boss, the pharmacy manager, and she says she can talk to our Pyxis technician and see if we can get them cleared off my name. So at least there's that.
But still....what the fucking hell? If this nurse doesn't know what a RID box is and can't even do basic counting - what I figure must be the easiest part of an intensive care nursing job - how in the fuck is this woman in charge of taking care of critical care patients, are you kidding me!?!?!? I mean, this fucktard messed up counting like 7 drugs out of 12 drugs. Again - what.the.hell. It is a good thing I was floor stocking meds today because after I saw that, I just wanted to be by myself. I got to spend the day alone in the med rooms, refilling drugs as opposed to having to spend the whole day in the pharmacy interacting with people when I was definitely in no mood to do so.
And I tried to subside my anger. I repeatedly told myself that she was probably just having a bad day and Heaven knows I've certainly had those days where try as I might, my mind was not with work and I fucked up stuff so simple, it was clear I didn't know my head from my ass - so I really shouldn't judge this woman so harshly. Especially when it was also my fault - I mean, I should have known better than to let someone else inventory their narcs under my name. I should have stopped her and told her to let me do the count myself. Should have done this, should have done that.
But I couldn't help it. When it came down to the bottom line, I had at least three discrepancies under my name, that weren't technically even mine, because some lady can't keep her shit together. I wanted to be the bigger person, the more rational person, the person who can take accountability, but my feelings won out over my brain and I was just fuming.
Lesson very, VERY much learned...the hard way.
Admittedly, I've been hesitant to update, because so much has happened, and it just seems like a lot to cover...and I procrastinate when it comes to big, long tasks. But I'll make it short (for me, anyways) - I had nothing to worry about as far as my internship/job crossover went because they've since hired me. I've also graduated with my certification and with that, received a $2 pay raise. I'm still making pennies because I work for a nonprofit hospital but $2 more than what I was making is still good (I make $12 an hour). It's still awkward because I've been there about a month and there's still a lot to learn, and I'm someone who is uncomfortable with not knowing things. I ask a lot of questions and try to learn from mistakes and hope far more than normal that I'm not being gossipped about (that's my social anxiety talking).
DH and I are in the process of buying a house. God, I really thought that would never happen. Every house in our budget was in a scary neighborhood or was just plain out run down. And then...we found it. In our budget, the rooms are big enough (it has 3BR and 1 1/2 baths), it's all hardwood floors, central electric heating and A/C, the owners have made improvement after improvement on it, and the yard is fantastic - it's shaded because there are trees surrounding it from the neighboring yards but the yard itself is actually flat and open. I love it. Even my dad, who is super-critical and very detail-oriented and technical, said it was a great house. I've been dreaming about how to decorate and what to use the rooms for and even contemplating pets - I would love to have one or two sphynx cats but they're a lot of maintenance, so most likely, it won't happen, but I like the idea of having a pet. It's been a semi-frustrating process since this is our first house and we know nothing. Luckily, our mortgage banker has been beyond friendly and helpful and I'm hoping our deal will close towards the end of this month.
I've had to go back to shampooing my hair regularly and I gave up heating products. I know I was doing the no-shampoo thing to restore health but I'm such an idiot and so vain, that I insisted on continuing to flat iron my hair...only without the shampoo there were no 'cones to protect it and my heat spray wasn't enough. Suffice to say, I fried it worse than it has ever been so I've been forced to give it up. Now, I shampoo with a moisturizing shampoo, deep condition, and use Hapuna Argan oil and Suave keratin leave-in to get rid of the frizz. I also have to braid it or twist it in a bun to create curls, or wear it up because my naturally dried hair just looks messy and like I don't comb it (I remember when I was younger, I would comb my hair and then my dad would later look at me and frustratedly say, 'You need to comb your hair' cause it just always looked dishevelled). So that means I have to wash it early afternoon so that it dries by bedtime so that I can set it at night, so that it looks decent the next day. It's very inconvenient. I miss my flat iron - 15 minutes before I left the house and I was done.
MM and his wife just had a baby. Yes, I still stalk her blog and facebook. I don't know why. I have no connection to either of them anymore, and no desire to *get* in touch with them, but I feel compelled to seek them out anonymously. Perhaps it's curiosity. I mean, once you have an affair with a married man, you hear a lot of secrets about their marriage but you don't know what the truth is. I know I still wonder if they're happy together now or if they're still just playing the roles of a young married couple and are struggling internally. I remember when I was still involved in that mess, I told MM that I thought he and his wife were good together and he asked, "Why?" I don't know if he was genuinely curious because he was lost emotionally, or if he asked because in his mind they were totally incompatible and was wondering why I would ever think such a thing. maybe it was a little of both. I hope that they've found eachother again in their marriage, despite my short interference, and I really hope this baby is a result of that, and not an attempt to fix a broken relationship. Maybe that's why I cyberstalk them - maybe I have a need to find answers of my own and seeing how this new stage in *their* life plays out will give me some clue to those answers. I don't even know why I want answers. Maybe it's guilt talking, or a weird sense of ego and vanity because I was able to break in between them (and I know how awful that is, but it's the truth) but I feel like I have to reach an end somehow and I can't let it go. When I think about it, I think he really wanted his wife back, because they were both working and their lives were going in opposite directions. I think I was a substitute for that because his wife and I are similar in many ways. We're both short brunettes, we're both writers (me with my English degree and she with her journalism), we both share his sense of humor....it's just that I was there and she wasn't. I suppose I wonder if they still miss each other or if they've managed to come together at last. I think of that and it reminds me to be careful in my own marriage - to make sure that we have date days, and that we're connected, and that sex is regular, and that he knows how I feel about him. And then I think back to MM's wife and I'm sure she felt the same way. They were still going out on weekends to visit family or whatever and I do think I remember her making efforts to have couple time but still, something was missing. So who knows? And I guess that's where I'm left wondering and searching.
Long story short: have been doing my hospital internship since January. Had hopes of asking for a job which came to fruition Monday afternoon when a full time position opened. The director had already gone home so I told myself to ask Wednesday (today). Come today, the manager said the director won't be in today but may talk to me about working when he comes in Friday. The full time position is filled apparently. They want me part time. I am feeling....extremely depressed. I know a part time job is still a job offer but I really need full time money and benefits. I could kick myself for not doing....idk, something, earlier. Called, let someone know....something! I just let the opportunity slip through my fingers because I assumed they wouldn't fill the position so fast. I feel as though I always let good things go. I have some self hate going on right now. I'm also typing this on my phone while at clinicals. Needless to say, I don't feel much like working. I feel like going home and wallowing
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I've been meaning to write about this for a while but life has kind of been kicking me in the butt lately (I'm always tired!). The day of the Alice Cooper concert finally came and it was easily the best experience of my entire year.
First of all, DH and I, and another fan who paid for VIP passes were let in early to pick our seats sooo....FRONT ROW CENTER! We came away with some really amazing pictures and seeing Alice so close up was nothing short of amazing! His show was so entertaining and he sounds just as good live as he does on recording. Take a look at the evidence:
Ok, so I have better photos but I'm too lazy to upload them so I stole the ones DH posted on facebook. But look at how close we were to him!!!! When he first walked onto the stage and I realized just what was happening, I cried like a 10 year old at a Justin Bieber concert for a few seconds.
I got a VIP bag with some things in it and I was going to pair the contents with the little things DH and I collected at the concert (fake Alice Cooper money from Billion Dollar Babies, confetti from Caffeine, a guitar pick, etc) into a giant scrapbook type wall hanging but I haven't had time to plan it out yet.
Speaking of VIP, we not only saw him in concert, we met him after the show. Of course, being me, I was so starstruck that I could barely speak 2 words to him. I asked him to sign the painting I made of him and he was so gracious. He even recognized the paints I used and commented that he studied art in college. I just sat there and nodded like an idiot - I wish I would have taken the cue to actually, you know, speak to him. I was just so excited to be sitting right next to him, and I got to take pictures of him and touch him and it was all just wonderful. I thought that spending $1000 to see him and meet him would get it out of my system and next time I could just go to his show like a regular person but the experience was so amazing that the complete opposite happened - now, everytime he performs here, which is every few years, I don't think I could settle for anything less! And by the way, I'll upload the photo of my painting later, as well. I'd post photos of myself with Alice Cooper in his dressing room but I can't since I'm trying to maintain some semblance of anonymity on here.
Speaking of other things, seems a key phrase that keeps popping up is that I haven't had time to do anything. I'm wondering if finding a job where I work nights will help be get over feeling tired the entire time I'm awake by helping me to avoid the dreaded afternoon sleepiness that always seems to hit at 3pm no matter what. Probably not. But getting up early every day to go to my internship, plus working weekend nights, plus school has really taken up a lot of my time and what isn't taken up seems to be spent napping or struggling to stay lucid til bedtime. I am counting down the days til my internship is done. Yet another student got a job offer. Again, not me.
I actually had a weird incident over this. We've been getting busier at the pharmacy lately and the pharmacist mentioned that if things keep going like this, she'll have to hire more people. Then she smiled and said "Too bad Spilledsecrets can't start working!" Of course, at hearing this, my heart elevated and I quipped, "I can in May!" and....nothing. The response I got was a stifled "mm." To me, that's not a good sign. To me, that says "I was just being friendly when I made that first comment. I don't actually want to hire you." And with that, my heart deflated. Not completely, because I'd be lying if i didn't say I'm not clutching onto that glimmer of hope with a death grip, but I'm not counting on it, realistically. I still wonder if they all just think I'm a big idiot.
My ego has really been taking a beating. I still secretly don't get along with Sasha. Had another moment with her Monday night. She was talking about the social group she organized and said they recently went out wearing their colors, which were purple and turquoise. The pharmacist went "What? purple and purple?" and when Sasha corrected her, she went "Oh, I thought you said purple and purple." and laughed a bit. I laughed too, mostly because I'm trying to fit in and be included, especially since I really didn't say anything that whole day and Sasha got mad at me. She lashed out, "What you laughing at?" and then mocked me. So I quit laughing, and seethed silently. The truth was, a small part of me was laughing genuinely because Sasha is a big girl and imagining her in all purple brought up some fat Barney the Dinosaur jokes, but I didn't say anything like that out loud so she had no right to be such a bitch to me.
On the upside, my pharmacy teacher told me in private that he really thinks I would excel if I pursued my career further into becoming an actual pharmacist, so that's nice to hear. if i can just make it 4 1/2 weeks I'll be done with Sasha and I can take a couple of weeks off to relax and put together a resume and then do my hospital clinicals, which I think will be better suited to my introverted personality, anyways. Too bad hospital jobs are so much harder to get but here's hoping.
I recently wrote another whiny blog post but after a while, I started to feel better and decided to document some good things that are going on. And now I'm kind of feeling depressed again so I better get this out before I lose all hope:
As I mentioned in my last post, the two students who went to my school and got hired where I'm interning clearly didn't get offers at THEIR internships. So that makes me feel a bit less alone in my situation.
Even though my Halloween situation isn't ideal, I suppose I could still dress up if I wanted and at least get a *little* time out. And I did buy my costume in normal clothing pieces so I could wear them any time of the year so I guess it's not completely wasted.
The Alice Cooper concert is this Saturday. I've been waiting for 3 months and am pretty ecstatic over that.
Today in lab, we practiced drug compounding, which was pretty fun, and the teacher complimented my partner and me on how well we pulverized and mixed our ointment. So at least I did something right.
All this stress has led me to get a gym membership and start running. Supposedly regular exercise helps to maintain lowered stress levels and elevated happiness so maybe my blog can stop being quite so gloomy. Also, my running has improved in a short amount of time.
Last Saturday I tried Zumba for the first time, since it was offered free to members at my gym. It was pretty fun, a great workout, and I pushed myself not only physically, but mentally, because I was terrified to try it, what with my social anxiety history. So that was kind of a big victory for me, getting out there and doing something scary for the first time by myself.
I guess I feel slightly better now. Not very much, but I'll take whatever i can get.
Previous PostsRat In A Cage., posted April 25th, 2015, 1 comment
Just Like That, posted March 13th, 2015
Bringing The Drama To A Head, posted March 12th, 2015
Are You Still On That Weird Diet?, posted January 5th, 2015
No Sweetener Wins and Fails, posted December 28th, 2014, 1 comment
The Health Nut, posted December 24th, 2014
Cosby's Victims, posted December 3rd, 2014
Self Improvement, posted December 3rd, 2014
Here Comes the BOOM!, posted November 22nd, 2014
The IV Room, posted October 25th, 2014
It's All In The Details, posted October 11th, 2014
I'm Lonely., posted September 26th, 2014
Crushin', posted September 22nd, 2014
Productivity and Identity Theft...Thanks, Monday., posted August 18th, 2014
So Now Retarded People Are Allowed To Get Nursing Licenses., posted June 10th, 2014
Flash Forward, posted June 5th, 2014
time waits for no man, posted March 12th, 2014
Kissing *** at Christmas, posted November 17th, 2013
I Met Alice Cooper and Other Things., posted November 12th, 2013
New Positives., posted October 30th, 2013
Continuing Negativity., posted October 29th, 2013
What Do You Mean You Can't Read My Mind?, posted October 20th, 2013
Yes, Your Kids Cost Money., posted October 18th, 2013
So Mad, I Lost My Vision., posted October 4th, 2013
Confessions of a Server - I Kind of Hate It Here and I Can't Hide It Anymore, posted September 28th, 2013
I smuggled a pill from the pharmacy., posted September 18th, 2013
Dazed and Confused., posted September 16th, 2013
Spilled Secrets, Pharmacy Pro, posted September 3rd, 2013
Crash!, posted August 8th, 2013
Jumbled Rambling, posted June 28th, 2013
Now That You're Dead, What Are You Going To Do With Your Life?, posted June 27th, 2013
When The Past Says,, posted June 24th, 2013
Some Good News and Some Hippie Speak, posted May 23rd, 2013
Day 20 No Shampoo, posted May 23rd, 2013
Day 16 No Shampoo, posted May 19th, 2013
Day 14 No Shampoo, posted May 17th, 2013
Day 12 No Shampoo, posted May 15th, 2013
No Shampoo Day 11, posted May 14th, 2013
Day 10 No Shampoo, posted May 13th, 2013
Day 9 No Shampoo, posted May 12th, 2013
Day 8 No Shampoo, posted May 11th, 2013
Day 7 No Shampoo, posted May 10th, 2013
Day 6 No Shampoo, posted May 9th, 2013
Day 5 No Shampoo, posted May 8th, 2013
Day 4 No Shampoo, posted May 7th, 2013
Day 3 without shampoo., posted May 6th, 2013
Breaking Up With Shampoo, posted May 5th, 2013
So Close and So Far., posted April 30th, 2013
From the Mouth of a Hypocrite, posted April 26th, 2013
One More Reason to Love My Husband, posted March 30th, 2013
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