Saturday, September 20, 2014


I just drank a Monster energy drink...and my mind is tripping like this song! I usually never drink energy drinks or caffeine but I just had to see what the hype was about. I have the weekend off; going to hang out with the girls and some friends in Kennessaw. Not too far from here.

This is from a friend's playlist. I think I might find some of the songs on iTunes and put them on my phone. I like running in the park with music in my brain. It distracts me from work. Been stressing lately.

Friday, September 19, 2014

Lux Aeterna: Requiem for a Dream Theme

All I have to say is "Requiem For A Dream" was a bizarre movie to me, but I like this rock version.

Thursday, September 18, 2014

Float pool

I'm not going to L&D anymore.

Since I pick up shifts on the behavioral health Annex, the nurse manager there asked me if I could cover shifts on their unit while the nurse who normally works it, is on medical leave. They had a Code 13 and while she was going to give the Ativan cocktail, the patient broke loose security's grip and whacked her head against the wall, unconscious. Luckily the charge nurse was able to recover the syringe, call the doc and make up another one, while more security restrained the patient and put him in five points.


They should have had him secured in the first place. I heard it was a mess. Jason and I were talking at lunch today.

"Aw you're such a sweetheart, covering psych shifts, money whore."
"Really? And the weird thing is, Lori came to L&D where I was orienting and talked to Kristina and so on and so on. Then Kristina asked me to come to the office and we all three had that talk."
"You must be special."
"Shut up, dude."
"Why don't you just put yourself on the float pool, that way, you can go everywhere like a whore."

Unless I'm irritated, I usually ignore his snide remarks. Can't take everything personally.

"Hmm. I never thought of that."
"You'll be a well-rounded individual."
"Yeah. I guess."
"I'll have to talk to Margie about it first. She likes me in Pod 7 because no other nurse wants to work back there. Its easy really."

Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Ex men

I'm never doing that schedule again. Ever.

How did I not know? Seriously?

I'm talking about Jessica's brother...Brian. My ex! Jessica, night shift nurse from tele. She was talking about her boyfriend and how he's moving out then the conversation switched to her brother this morning when we went to the park. Yes, I'd just gotten off my last haul and then I WENT WALKING with Jess at the Buruss Park on South Cobb Drive. My feet hated me, but the woman was in tears over her boyfriend woes. I was just an listening and sympathetic ear. And I don't swing that way.

Then she went on and on about her brother in the Army in Afghanistan, Brian. Curious, I prodded her for details because she made him sound like this guy I went out with in nursing school, Brian. Then I quizzed her about certain features of him a dimple on his cheek and certain tribal tattoos he had on his chest and arms. When I said that, we both stopped\ in our tracks.

"Wait, how do you know he has those tattoos?"
"I went out with this guy named Brian in 2006. Why? Do you know him?"
"Oh my god, Sarah! He's my brother!"
"Wait, what? But he doesn't have your last name."
"My mom remarried and he's my half-brother! I didn't know you guys dated!"
"I didn't know he had a sister."

So we talked and talked and talked and talked. And talked some more. And my feet didn't hurt anymore.

I hate Brian. He always seems to drain me emotionally because I was so head over heels for the guy and he decides to move far away. He said he didn't want to interfere in my career, and what does he do? Goes off and joins the Army without telling me. No word where he's going. Just drops out of sight and out of my life and all I could do was cry, cry, cry my head off. Its a wonder I even passed nursing school. Something like the disappearance of someone you love tears you apart to where I don't know how I survived. No phone calls, no returned texts, no emails. No more I love yous. Nothing.

And then a card six months after nursing school with the words "Code Red" and I knew it was from the jerk. We used to drink that super sugary soft drink on the nights I had to study for major tests. In that card, was a Post-It note saying, "I didn't want to interfere in your new career. Yours Always, B". He's not mine. I'm so done with him. He's the epitome of fear of commitment! Why are guys like that? I poured over day and night for a year trying to figure out what I did wrong to have him leave me like that. In limbo.

I hope I never see that bastard because I'll probably kill him. With my car. And a crowbar.

And some nails.

And yet, I still love him.

Sarah, you need to let him go.

I would if I could...

Sunday, September 14, 2014

Can't sleep...Clowns will eat me

Just got home from another half a day and night at my home away from home, the Wonderful World of the ER. My feet hurt like the looks of 100% lean ground beef. Since my friends asked me to contribute to their blog, I think I've just totally taken over it with my stories from work! Awesome!
And yes, I guess I am a "money whore". That's what Jason the PM charge from med/surge called me. I used to play racketball with him and his wife, Jeanette. They're health nuts and we're all 30somethings. I'm not exactly a health nut, but I have a high metabolism and I need to keep moving.

Got off a 16 hour shift and I can't sleep. Had to do some last minute charting because we had a guy code just after change of shift. And as soon as I got home, there was a Post-It note on my door from Ethan saying "We have to talk". This made me anxious almost instantly because now I'll be mulling over in my mind what "we" have to talk about. I blocked his number. I deleted all our pictures off my phone. I removed everything digital that reminded me of our empty relationship. And now this.

I remember seeing this sticker when I was at the mall last week and I stopped by Hot Topic. A little black and white decal saying "Can't sleep...Clowns will eat me!" It made me laugh so hard right there in the store that the clerks probably thought I was hearing voices. The kind of goofiness that goes on when I was in nursing school at the computer lab and I hear someone burst out laughing in that normally QUIET room.

So now I'm anxious. Just going to make myself a big scrambled egg and spinach sandwich with a glass of ice water and raspberry-flavored water enhancer. The tub's cooling down and I also anxiously awaiting for my new spring shoes to come in. Hopefully it comes in this week. My pain threshold is moving up to the next level.

Man, I wish I hadn't read that note...

Can't sleep...a clown is stalking me.
Can't sleep...a clown is stalking me.
Can't sleep...a clown is stalking me.

Saturday, September 13, 2014

The suicide card

Including me, there are usually three triage nurses and at midnight, I was again sent to the behavioral health Annex. I seem to be getting assigned here more frequently as of late. We have seven pods; you could call the Annex the seventh pod because its the red-headed stepchild of pods and most nurses don't like to come here. Its almost like an island, tucked in the back of the ER. I get a call from the triage nurse.

"Hey Sarah, I'm sending your favorite patient back to you."
"Let me guess, Pseudo-Seizure Larry."
"You got it, babe."
"Did you dress him out?"
"Yep. Just send your tech to pick him up." Ka
"Will do. Thanks."

I send big Kat--he's a really big dude of Samoan heritage, mild-manner goliath. Looks intimidating too and not exactly a pushover. With Kat around, I don't need security. At all. When Big Kat wheels him back to my pod, he starts in immediately.

"Oh its you again."
"The one and only. How's your day?"

Big Kat takes his vitals and changes him into the standard hospital gown.

Larry chimes in being extremely polite. "Is there anyway I can get a dinner?"
I say, "Not at this time of night. I can get you a box lunch if we have any."
"Box lunch?"'
"Yes, you know the routine. Cold ham or turkey sandwich, Grahm crackers and a juice."
"No coffee. Nice try, kiddo."
"How come you're always such a bitch to me?"
"What do you mean? Now let's get started. What is the nature of your complaint?."
"I want to kill myself. And others. And a whole lot of people."

After my completing my nursing assessment, looking over the LMHP and PAT therapist's notes. Then with Kat, I begin the skin assessment. Superficial cuts to the wrists. Double lightning tattoos on the nape of the neck. Then he asks if the doctor will refill his Hydrocodone and Vicodin..

 "You'll have to ask your doctor when you see him in the morning."
"How come you guys never treat my pain?"
"What pain? I thought you're here because you're feeling suicidal. The doctor treats your pain and therapists go over with your treatment plan for mental health issues. Tell him. Let's see, it says that the last few times you were here, you have a history of non-compliance on your discharge instructions so we probably can't do much of anything for you. This isn't my first rodeo."

Med seeker. They ruin it for those who actually need help.

I wonder how it would feels like to be narcississtic. The guy had a good job and a good wife, but he lost them both to his drug addictions. And now he's playing the suicide card. No, one inch cuts breaking the skin on your wrists does not require immediate medical attention.

Friday, September 12, 2014

Let the fun begin!

Its gonna be a long weekend and I won't have any days off till next Wednesday. I'll be floating on the behavioral health unit as the med nurse and then orient to L&D on Tuesday. Totally not looking forward to orienting on Women's.

In other news, I'm waiting for a call back on an application for a med nurse position for a group home-type environment. I've never done group home settings but it seems laid-back from what I've been told. I just want to experience it. Don't get me wrong, I love being in the ER; there's never a dull moment, but down times just drag on. And on.

Gotta get ready for my long shifts. Hope I survive...

Sunday, September 7, 2014


Whenever I get off shift, I'm so ready to clock out, get in my car, kick off my shoes and drive home. Soon as I walk in the door, clothes come off immediately and I head straight for the tub. I turn on the hot water and fill it to half way with no cold water and while waiting for the water to cool, I start cleaning my face, removing make-up, not that I had much on to begin with.

As soon as the water is the temp I can tolerate, I step in feet first and sit on the edge of the tub, just soaking my feet. And after a good hot soak, I lay in bed under my fan, drying off my body. After a good night's sleep, I wake up in the morning to start my day and as soon as my feet hit the floor, BAM!

My plantar fasciitis kicks in waking me up instantaneously where I'm moaning and squealing in my own apartment. I have got to get a new pair of shoes. I can see me assessing myself:

"And how do you rate your pain from on a scale of 1 to 10. Ten being the worse, Sarah."
"Oh probably a 30."

I am desperate. What about the new Sketchers you say? Oh me like an idiot returned them yesterday because I didn't want to be reminded of Ethan. I returned most of his stuff that didn't have any sentimental value to me. So I remember seeing some of the nurses on the ortho floors wearing those spring shoes. Those shoes with a big spring on them. I asked this tech what it felt like and she said they're absolutely relaxing and comfortable. But she also said they're expensive. I bet. She told me they were from Z-Coil. So I checked around on the net and came across the pair I wanted so, impulsively, I ordered the ones I wanted.

Yes I am desperate for pain relief. I don't usually buy things on impulse but I'm at my wits end!

Heads will roll

I made a new blog but I don't know what to put in it.

Its official. I'm a single woman again. No needy little man to tie me down. That and his mother. Somehow, she knows everything about me and thinks I'm in competition with her wimpy son. No?

I want a man who can fess up to his own mistakes and say "I'm sorry" when he screws up instead of blaming stuff on me. Or making me feel bad about myself. Ethan did that to me once. ONCE. I called him about it on the phone and told him not to come over anymore. I should have stuck to my word, but I caved in after seeing the dozen or so flowers on my doorstep.

But today, I dug my heels in and didn't give in. Its over. I want nothing more of his superficial personality. After six months, he's never told me he loves me. I made it a clean break. I put all his stuff in a box by my doorstep and told him that he can either come pick it up or I can drop it off at his work. I'm glad I never got into any of that social media stuff so I won't have to worry about Unfriending him or removing his pictures and removing any digital footprints of me anywhere. I want someone who cares about me. Emotionally, I'm stable. I know what I want. I'm financially good too. I just want someone to do things with me.

I want someone who's going to be there for me. Not like in "Spiderman" where Peter Parker promises Mary Jane that he'll be present at her concerts or plays but misses out on them. I want someone who will be supportive of me and back me up. I just want someone who will be there. I don't want a repeat of what happened at graduation when my Dad said he was going to be there and he never showed up. I felt like an idiot. My parents divorced when I was 17 and I lived with my grandparents till I was 22. Ten years later, I still remember the embarrassment of no one being there for me on my special day. Grandpa died a year after Mom and Dad split and Grandma was in the hospital with double leukemia. I was  worried so sick about her but she told me to go ahead and walk across the stage with my friends. She had one of my aunts tape the ceremony so she would see me at my best when she got better. So yeah, I'm a little bitter about that. I want someone to be there for me. Is that too much to ask?

Donice and Karla are my closest friendso they keep me in check. I know most of the ER staff but I don't hang around them after work. I like to keep my life away from the hospital, private, except when Karla and Donice are concerned.

I have to admit though, it felt good letting Ethan go.

Now...for a tub of Ben & Jerry's Hazed & Confused ice cream with lots of fudge and hazelnuts.

And listening to Yeah Yeah Yeahs, "Heads Will Roll" blasting on my iphone dock station!

Saturday, September 6, 2014

Girls night out

Tonight is my night off and I'm going with two coworkers, both tele RNs, clubbing in downtown Atlanta. I couldn't tell you where because I get lost easily in the big city without my GPS. I've been friends with Karla and Donice since nursing school: we started out as PCTs and even though we weren't really close then, we surely have become now.

I don't know how the conversation was redirected to me but Donice said to me last night in the cafeteria while I was ordering my dinner. She was in the line with me.

Donice: "Hey Stone Cold, why's everybody calling you that?"

Me: "I don't know. I just do my job."

Chantel from med/surge whom I didn't know was behind me, said "That's 'cause she's a bitch" and starts laughing.

I just roll my eyes and say, "Another one of my fans, there."

Chantel: "You guys seen the new survey comments yet? "That tall skinny short-haired nurse in triage was mean to me. I think her name was Sarah. She's so insensitive to my needs! She should be fired". You get grieved again?"

She gets her chocolate donuts and leave. Ew. Donuts.

 I was like, "Really? I remember that guy, it was pseudo-seizure Larry. He came in complaining about chest pains and SOB when I clearly saw him laughing it up with another patient in the lobby. I know 'cause I start entering his info and ordering labs and he goes into his seizure act. And his BP is 102/72. Go figure, right? Then he goes on and on that we don't treat him right every time he comes in. I wanted to say, 'if we don't treat you right and you aren't getting the narcs you want, why do you come in". It was just wanting to come out of my mouth. Oh my god I had to bite my tongue so I wouldn't get in trouble. And I say, "its OK" and he takes that saying I'm sarcastic and condescending to him.

Donice just shakes her head, giggling at her salad.

Girlfriends should be pulling up any time soon. Just got a text Donice asking if I got a leash tight on my man. I think that's going to be the topic of discussion tonight. I'm planning to avoid it if I can. They talked about going bar-hopping too. If that comes up, I'm taking a taxi home. What to do on a Saturday night?

Friday, September 5, 2014

Mouse in the house

Six years in the ER and taking shifts in L&D for a month. I love the ED but Women's isn't my thing and I'm a woman. Ironic, I know. Not doing anything in my off days so why not? More money. Saving for a house. Yes, I want a house. And I'm going to get a house. Eventually.

In the ER, I'm known as "Stone Cold Sarah" aka Nurse Ratchet and probably describes me AT WORK.  Away from work, I'm completely different but not really.

Who would want to be a nurse is beyond me. Its a thankless job. I get my check and I pay my bills. And I get called "effing bitch nurse" blah blah blah. EVERY night. Who would want that abuse? I've seen other nurses' blogs and some are like me, who would want to be a nurse?

I hate talking about work but I had to make this post. I was grossed out the other night.

I was in the Annex and I called the behavioral health unit to send over a tech who is usually assigned under me. While they were getting their butts in gear, I had to change frequent flyer Dennis out of his poopy clothes. Yes he peed and pooped all over himself when the nice policeman brought him in in his usual ETOH  state. So when I got him changed into a gown, I picked up his belongings and lo and behold, what did I find? A dead mouse fell out of his pants pocket.

I was like...

Oh my god.


What the...??


I didn't mind the poop and pee but the dead mouse...

I could feel my lunch coming up.


EW!! (*watery eyes)

And I'm going to carry this image with me to women's which is equally...




Wednesday, September 3, 2014

If The Mind Goes, The Body Follows...

Why are break ups so damn hard to deal with?

I was reading something about the feel good hormones of oxytocin and dopamine leaving when you're stressed out and the stress hormone, cortisol kicks in with the "fight or flight" process. Something, something. And then I started googling how to recover from a break up. Yeah, call me devastated but not so much as an emotional wreck like times past like the first time you said you were going back to Vader when your car broke down and I walked home in the rain. That was back in May. My flight response kicked in; I was only suppose to help Mark and Karen move that week, but you dropped the bomb on me with "going back to Vader" crap.

And it was five times after that when I was here in Florida that you brought me back in with your mood swings and I was so totally engrossed with you that I forgot my own self. I was engulfed in you and loving you with all my heart and what little resources I had that I took every chance I got, to drive to Georgia just to be with you. That's my fault but I wanted to be with you. I miss you so much. Yet, you seem to pick at my faults and went with it, like you what your alcoholic father did to you. If nothing seemed to make him happy, then nothing will make you happy. You have to do some soul searching yourself to make Sam happy.

For a while, you made me the happiest man on the planet, but you couldn't pull yourself out of the NEGATIVE VOID you dwelt in. I love you but I can't help you with that.

Mumbi said it cuz she's in a similar situation as ours: "You can't stop thinking about her because you love her so much that its primal. And if the sex is good, then you're stuck in this void where nothing seems to matter."

I asked Jason if he has friends he can talk to if he can't solve stuff or if he blogs about it. He said, "Everyone is my audience. I blog about everything and I vent about everything. I only keep the things inside that could be twisted about in court". Makes sense.

I blog about stuff that bothers me. It helps me sort things out. I always used to talk to you so I didn't blog much and didn't have a need to.

Gotta keep myself busy so I won't get stuck. Its so fucking hard to get over you sometimes.

I don't know how I'm going to get over you, but I will. I wanted us to be friends even after you divorce proceedings. But for now, the split is good for both of us. Its so hard, Sabrina told me that its going to take time. She was codependent with her best married friend and she knew him when she was 16. She had to cut off all communication with him to move on; she stopped seeing him when she was 36. It took her two years to start dating again. She said, "Every time I had a bad date, it made me think of going back to him". Now she has a guy who treats her right.

Yeah. I don't know how I'll get over you, but I will. My mind is muddled with constant thoughts of us together but I have to move on. If this post finds you and we're to cross paths in two years, you know how to find me and that promise to the Grand Canyon is still open. I'm definitely going to reward myself going there.

One more thing: it was a good relationship. You taught me a lot about myself. Thank you.

Take care of yourself, Sam.


Tuesday, September 2, 2014

Let me be the one

Ethan really irritates me to the point where I think I will break up with him. Sure he makes loads of money, and buys me fancy things, but that's not what I want. I want someone who will be there for me, hug me, caress me in his arms, whisper sweet nothings to me and do the stuff I want to do. I don't care about going to clubs and noisy places.

I loved it the other day when we went to Stone Mountain and just had a picnic, and then his mother calls him. I've met her once. She's a domineering in-my-face nasty woman. She treats him like dirt and he accepts it. I don't know. She irritates me too. I don't have the tolerance for a lot of people anymore. I called him a mama's boy because he's so sensitive.

I've been with him three months and that's three months too long. I make my own money and pretty good at it yet he insists on getting stuff for me because he's "the man". Last week I wanted to upgrade my phone and we were looking at the phone kiosks at the mall. I found one I liked. I asked the sales clerk about it and the details. He just had to butt in. Its like, I don't have any say so in what I want.

The one thing that really gets on my nerves is when I call him, he doesn't stay on the phone long and says he's busy. I know he has to make money; he's an oilfield sales rep, but I want someone who is emotionally there for me. I don't care about his money, or his passive-agressiveness, or his cranky old mother.

Let me be the one to break off this empty relationship.

I need to straighten myself, put Stone Cold Sarah mode on and get ready for work.

Let me be blunt

I love to complain. I really do. I do it just for the enjoyment of the simple fact that I can irritate Ethan. And I do it especially if he knows its  I want. Granted, I keep my whining to a minimum at work or any other place except when we're out in public together.

My main complaint yesterday was orthopedic shoes. Since I'm on my feet constantly at work, I needed something comfortable for my plantar fasciitis. Every morning I wake up with my feet sore since I do 12 hour shifts at the hospital or sometimes, 16 hour shifts. We were out at the mall and I saw a pair of Sketchers that were perfect for me.

Ethan looked at it and said, "too expensive".

This after he dissed 30 pairs at the other stores in the mall and even before that, we went to Shoe Carnival and none of them were right for me. I have plantar fasciitis and it comes and goes. Ethan knows about this since he's had it in the past. Finally, after lunch at a cheap Vietnamese restaurant, we found a place that specializes in shoes that were:
1) pretty shoes
3) Orthotics shoes

I picked a pair out and had the saleswoman fit it for me. She was very thorough. The shoes felt very comfortable but still very expensive. I wanted them. Really wanted them so I went into whine mode. For five minutes. That was enough for him to leave and then agree to them.

I can be devious when I want something.

Monday, September 1, 2014

A Crackhead on Words

That's what I call I don't have a very high perception of myself at the moment.

And I have a lot of issues that I'm facing as they reveal themselves to me.
- Codependency
-Abandonment issues
- Imbalance of priorities
- Impulsiveness
- Insomnia
- Random intrusive thoughts
- Black and white thinking / this or that
- PTSD and all its symptoms

The codependency and the abandonment both stem from when I lost my friends in an engine room fire back in the Navy twenty-something years ago. I don't have the flashbacks anymore although I'm leery of small dark enclosed places, and the abandonment comes from trying to save a relationship. Any relationship cuz I don't want to be left alone. Close friends dying. And the relationship addiction of me consistently prioritizing the other person's needs over mine.

Why the fuck do I do this? Why can't she ever meet me halfway? Sure she has bills to pay, but I don't have a steady (temp agency for now) job yet I still manage to come see her, motel rooms and all that. How come I'm always doing the driving: first, across country, then across five hours of the Georgia gauntlet of cops waiting to give out tickets on I-75

Darla told me that "in a relationship, it takes two people to give, to put forth the effort of 100% to make it work. Without that, you're gonna be in a world of hurt". I'm just rambling right now. Trying to get my bearings in this shitty shituation.