More #@*% Cheese!

So today we got a free lunch but there is a catch....we had to sit through a meeting about CHANGE aka moving your cheese, how it affects us, how we deal with change, blah, blah, blah. Apparently our boss has the perception that we can't handle change. I don't understand where she gets that idea since our jobs involve change on a daily basis. I thought we all (or most of us anyway) adapted fairly well to change. We may grumble a bit, but isn't that human nature?? We change and we change and we change, which, I think, just makes us more valuable. If we can change our daily work on a moment's notice, then we can adapt to just about anything. I think, at least in our "pod" the biggest grumble we have is the workload--we are overloaded and have been for some time now. I can't remember how long ago it was when we were actually fully staffed AND everyone there was trained and on their own. But, we adapted. We took on more and more and more and we just did it. But then, the pre-reg portion was dumped on us. A bit premature I think. The system isn't up and running (that is supposed to make this all wonderful) and we're still short-staffed. So we're kind of choking with work here. I'm not saying I'm against change, in fact, change is good, less chance of being bored--goodness knows my whole life involves changes and more changes, some good, some bad, but I DO think we can get overloaded and our brains and bodies can short-circuit, just to MAKE us slow down and attend to the basic needs. I don't know about you, but I really don't want to end up sick from this, mentally or physically. I just hope things get adjusted so that the workload isn't oppressive and we get fully staffed so that we can make those changes at a moment's notice and move on. Life's too short to let work make us crazy. Whew!! Thanks for letting me vent. I'll try not to "talk" about this any more.

Scrabble anyone?

Okay, so we're geeks, dorks, whatever you want to call us. J and I love to play Scrabble. Now we're playing online against each other; having two PCs is convenient for this. We started out 4 years ago in Newfields on a real board with me knowing sooooo many more legal words than J. Those were the good old days; now HE has all the obscure legal words stowed away in his head--he has no idea what the words actually mean, just that they are legal for Scrabble. He can't recall conversations we've had 30 minutes before or two days ago, but obscure words for Scrabble, he has down pat!! He's so competitive! I just want to play and have fun with it, but he's always out to not only win, but win by stomping his opponent into the ground....he's evil when it comes to Scrabble. He wonders why people don't want to play with him. I have to sometimes declare a moratorium and tell him I can't play Scrabble with him for several days because I can't tolerate his wish to eviscerate me in every game. I need to build up stamina to go at it again. On those days, I play against unknown people out there in the internet world. J tells me I am his favorite opponent. Yeah, he loves trouncing me. I created this beast, what was I thinking?

Dominatrix

Ohmygosh! I always thought she was a submissive pooch, BUT last night she was playing in the dog play yard with Taz (neutered male) and when Taz came over to greet me, she grabbed his haunches and started humping him. She wouldn't stop either. When he turned around, she started humping his face. And he LET her! Taz's owner, S, was laughing very hard. He thought it was hysterical that his dog was becoming Daisy's "bitch". I was mortified! This was not my innocent little puppy but a dominant she dog showing him who's boss...but it looks so sexual! Yeah, yeah, where was my mind? I think she was jealous that I was paying attention to another dog. She's never, ever been dominant with anyone, except maybe J some nights when he tries to act like a dog....she growls back at him to show him how to do it right.

More Than a Feeling

Today was a day from hell at work. Only 3 of us and the phones going abso-f*&^ing-lutely nuts. A bunch of reminders must have gone out because every other phone call was to book a mammo. The others were complicated and m.d. offices crabbing because they had to wait so long for someone to pick up—hey! YOU trying doing this job double…..I came up with the idea today, since each of us was doing the work of two people, shouldn’t we be getting paid for 16 hours rather than 8??? Supposed to be 6, there were 3 – you do the math. We all liked the idea, though I myself would rather have things more manageable than trying to do the impossible for 8 hours straight. My half hour in pre-reg covering R’s lunch was the quietest time I had all day. Sheesh! What the heck are they complaining about in there? I could have napped! Tomorrow is review day—do you think the raises will reflect the amount of extra work we are all expected to do at a moment’s notice? Should someone leave the position, go on vacation or be out sick for any amount of time, we are expected to cover it all. And our little CS is “floating” until the replacement shows up in Onc. I really wish we could expect significant raises or bonuses or SOMETHING beside a dinner at Ron’s for all our efforts. *sigh* I guess we’ll see tomorrow.

Kind Words

Another Saturday working overtime in the ER. So many people, so many problems. One homeless guy, (came in under police escort) who spends the day; he's been taken care of, dismissed with crutches and an aircast, yet he lingers outside the sliding doors, trying to bum cigarettes from everyone going in and maybe even trying to get money for a sandwich. We offered him crackers while he was waiting to be seen. He said, "I don't eat crackers." ???? Security goes out to tell him he can't hang around out front like that smoking and basically begging. He breaks down and cries and I guess tells them he wants to kill himself. All of sudden, he's back in, reregistered, this time under observation. I overhear his social worker talking to one of the nurses. She says he does this all the time; just when you think you've got him up and moving, he throws out a statement like that, knowing what the reaction will be, playing the system. Doesn't that just suck all you fellow tax payers? Then the 20 year old young man who came in by ambulance. I go to register him and he's holding his nose; seems calm, trying to be nonchalent about it all. Says he had a fight with a door and the door won. After I gather his info and get him registered, I go back in to get his signature. A nurse is there with him, his face is pretty much covered with blood and most of his facial skin is hanging from the right side of his face. That was SOME fight! Poor guy! I can't help but mother him while I'm getting him banded and collect his signature. It's workers comp and he is young enough not to know that he should be requesting a plastic surgeon. They stitch him up right in the ER. Looks like the ER doc is doing the work; no plastic surgeon. He may think it makes him look tough right now, but what about 10 years from now when he has a very noticeable scar swirling over his nose and down his cheek? Another guy comes in with a smashed and severed finger tip. He feels the need to show me what it looks like. Work related again. It looks like a sea anemone with bone splinters sticking out in several directions and blood everywhere again. UGH! Next guy cut his palm open accidentally while working with a tile knife. He has to hold his palm together so it won't gape open. Some old guy came in by ambulance with his name tag on him, born in 1916. The nursing home found him unconscious on the floor. Looks like he weighs about 85 lbs. He's apologizing for falling....wonder what goes on in that nursing home? I got more depressed as the day wore on. I really think this is not a good place for me to be in. A family comes in with a good looking young man, about 21, who has suffered several bee stings the day before, again while on the job. He's a landscaper. He is built so fine! He's got swelling and redness from the bee stings and he says he's starting to feel tightness in his chest. His mom is staying close to him, hovering a bit, trying to make him feel better. I can tell she is concerned and anxious. I stay calm and ask him if he had any symptoms the day he got stung, and he answers no, just the immediate pain of stings then nothing. I think maybe mom has made him anxious, or maybe, with time, he's worked himself up, but, just to be safe, I call the triage nurse to take a look. We put him in a wheelchair and he is wheeled back to a room then. His father apparently was disgusted with him because he didn't suck it up and wait til they got home from the scrimmage they just attended. He thinks benadryl would have handled it all. Hmmm, maybe this is why the kid is anxious. Anyway, mom is stuck between the two men; wants to stay with her son, but needs to take dad home so he can go to work. I reassure her that I will look in on her son for her and if he asks, let him know she will be right back. I look in on him a little bit later and he's doing okay, in a darkened room with the curtain drawn and looking a little sleepy. Maybe they gave him the benadryl or something a little stronger. Anyway, no big worries there. We had people with chest pain, more people with cuts, one with chills and fever and one who miscarried. I couldn't wait for the shift to end. Of course H was late so I had to wait for her to make her grand entrance before I could scoot out. As I was walking out the door and across the parking lot, the mom of the landscaper came over to me with a big smile and thanked me for the way I handled their visit today. She said, "You all do a good job in there but you went out of your way to make us feel taken care of and I thank you for that. J probably would have been okay with benadryl but you never know." I said, "Thank you for your kind words. It helps to know people appreciate your efforts. I'm glad he's okay and it's best to be sure. You did the right thing to bring him in." So maybe I didn't do so well with the homeless guy who refused to eat crackers; and the guy who insisted on showing me his brutalized finger with no tip, and some of the others. But I got some kind words from a mother that made me able to square up my shoulders again and get on with my day without being depressed. Thanks mom!

Lucky Bamboo

My lucky bamboo isn't so lucky any more. Slowly, piece by piece, I'm losing it. All winter long it's been green and growing, looking mighty healthy. Now it's turning yellow and getting squishy. I don't know what's wrong. It was doing so well--I water it and give it diluted liquid fertilizer and sunshine, but not too much sunshine. Maybe, just maybe, it's the negative energy around here. It used to be a healthy atmosphere. Now there's lots of stress. Perhaps that lucky bamboo is in tune with us and senses our spirits are flagging. It's kind of a mood barometer. Oh, but didn't I just mention spirits?? I could use some. Almost time to punch out. I can lift my spirts with some spirits from the liquor store. A brilliant idea!

Tom Brady

I have loved Tom Brady since the first time I laid eyes on him! But NOW, now I know how old, or should I say how young he is and I feel like a DIRTY old lady...it's not fair! I liked it better when his age was unknown and I could fantasize without the knowledge of that number. He could be any age I wanted him to be, much like I can be 32 forever in my mind. *sigh* those were the days

Hot Pepper Jelly

This year was my first attempt at making hot pepper jelly. In the past, I have made all sorts of jellies, jams and conserves, but I never tried making hot pepper jelly. I taught A how to make jellies and jams a long tme ago. She, in the past 5 years, took on the task of making hot pepper jelly and she experiments; sometimes it's burn your whole mouth hot, and sometimes it's medium and sometimes it's mild. I mostly like the medium hot stuff myself. T and E even had to cut the "burn your whole mouth hot" stuff with mild pepper jelly so they could eat it, so it's not just me. J approves of my first attempt. K and P approved very vocally, so I guess it's a good batch. I need to make another batch before summer is over so I can give some as gifts, and have some on hand during the winter when it's a pleasant surprise to have for a special treat. I just have to figure out a spot to hide it from J so he won't be opening jars late at night and scarfing it all down on me. He's a late night snacker.

Too Much Stuff!

Have you ever had the feeling that you're surrounded by just too much stuff? Do you find yourself wanting to unload all but the very necessary? Make life simple? Why do we have that gene that makes us want to amass things "in case" we ever need to use them? Why can't we borrow more or rent more and buy less stuff ? I go through spurts of accumulating things and then somewhere down the road, I start wanting to lighten the load, in case I put on my walking shoes and change my life's direction. I like my creature comforts but there are so many things I have that I don't really have to have in order to be comfortable. I'll never give up my bed. I love my bed. I embrace sleep like a welcome lover. But I could do without the heated mattress pad in the winter, and the down comforter. I could have plainer, simpler ways of keeping warm. I don't have to have 98 sets of sheets; I could get along with 2 sets, one on the bed and one to change off with when it's time to launder. I don't need all the pots and pans I have accumulated. Or all the coffee mugs, or t-shirts with logos. I don't need a jewelry box full of earrings. I usually only wear two pair anyway. I don't need 157 different pens around the house; 2 or 3 would be adequate. So why do I do this? Is it a compulsion? Now I'm coveting fabric. Collecting various fabrics with dragonfly designs on them. Okay, I DO want to make a quilt with them, but already I have accumulated far more than I need to accomplish this. I have to STOP. I need to be happy with what I have and just make do. I can't have it all.

Portsmouth

Portsmouth has this eerie effect on me. I can so easily get lost in Portsmouth, in fact, I have; many times. One time I found myself in Maine and realized I had overshot my mark, going to meet with friends for The Serfs and had to back track to get where I was supposed to be; another time I was meeting J for the first time and forgot how to get back to the parking garage from Market Street!! How ridiculous is that? Yesterday, I managed to get lost again, of course, in Portsmouth. I was headed down Route One to a medical appointment and all of a sudden, things didn't look like I expected they should on the way to this office. Mentally going over the location, I realized the office was not on route one, but, for the life of me, couldn't come up with the street location in my head! I panicked as usual, and headed toward downtown Portsmouth hoping something would look familiar to me and I would get back on track. Meanwhile, I'm looking at the clock because I now have 12 minutes to be on time for my appointment. I wended my way all through downtown Portsmouth before I came up with the idea of finding my way from there to Woodbury Avenue, where I think the office is. Ahhh, now it's coming back to me...it IS on Woodbury Avenue next to Circuit City...ohmygod, why couldn't I come up with that? Why do I panic whenever unsure of where I am in Portsmouth? Most places don't do that to me...I think Portsmouth is the only place that is able to make me stupid every time and filled with anxiety. I DID actually manage to make it to my appointment on the dot, I don't know how....maybe I time travelled.

New Refrigerator

Yes, it's these little things that excite me. I haven't had a brand new refrigerator since I lived in Colrain (11 years ago) and spoiled myself with one that had an icemaker and ice available through the door, crushed or cubed....how pathetic am I? Well, today the complex manager was paid a visit by Daisy and me. She promised us a new refrigerator a couple of weeks ago when I told her the one we have now freezes everything in the refrigerator section and just keeps things cold in the freezer section. I had tried cleaning the coils, giving it more space behind and on the sides and adjusting and adjusting and adjusting the thermostat--nothing helped. Oh yes, the obvious thing would be to flipflop the contents except the freezer is way smaller than the items I need to keep refrigerated and the refrigerator would never be filled by the things I freeze...can you imagine the electricity costs with a big freezer like that? Yikes! Anyway, I asked her when we could expect our new refrigerator since I'm still losing all sorts of fresh fruits and vegetables and other assorted stuff when it freezes in the refrigerator. She thought we already HAD the new one. Uh, nope, I really would have noticed. She made a call and told me I could expect it this afternoon. It's been waiting in storage for her to tell the maintenance guy when he COULD install it. Oh nice!! Anyway, I just finished cleaning out most of the stuff, throwing away odds and ends and cleaning up a frozen spill where an orange soda can had exploded and the contents were now frozen on the bottom shelf of the refrigerator. When did that happen?? Oh yuck! I worked up a big sweat cleaning it out and now am sort of patiently waiting for the new one to arrive before I finish the job. Now I can grocery shop this afternoon and know that my food will be properly refrigerated in my new refrigerator. Hey! This was supposed to be a leisurely vacation--I'm not supposed to be working so hard. Why is it the man is never around when you need them?

Vermont weekend

Before I left for my weekend, I managed to spill a bottle of nail polish, something I've never done before, and of course it had to be a fairly bright raspberry color on my rather beige bedroom carpet. I must have been screaming inside my head instead of aloud because J said he didn't have any idea the state of panic I was in upstairs. He thought I was just getting dressed and packing for VT. I managed to squirt most of a bottle of nail polish remover on the long thin lines of raspberry polish and took an old towel and rubbed the hell out of it, getting it down to a dull pinkish beige where I had spilled. It was the best I could do. Of course, that made me late starting out so I didn't want to stop along the way---just wanted to get there ! A weekend in Vermont, time slows down and there's no rush to get anywhere or do anything once you get there. It's so GREEN! Being in good company helps to make it a delight. The 2 1/2 hour drive just about destroyed my back but I popped a Darvocet and lounged around for the most part and managed to make do. With the dragonflies flitting and owls hooting, the noise of a brush cutter in the distance, JK and I enjoyed eating outdoors and walking to the creek to dabble our toes in the icy cold water. The red raspberries hanging in the bushes, apparently missed by the bear, were an extra special treat to pop into our mouths after our meal. All too soon it was time to leave and make that lonnnnnng trip back to the seacoast, to home. This time, I stopped along the way to get out and stretch my legs and back, hoping to avoid being crippled by the time I got home. I browsed through a basket shop and bought a couple of baskets and a seagrass mat for the beach. I was tempted to get some soft serve which was conveniently next door to the basket place, but I decided it would be better if I just put my plump thighs back on the seat and headed home. When I got home, Daisy was ecstatic to see her mom and leaped up into my face with a huge dog smile on hers. There's nothing like unconditional love! J was happy to see me too but not nearly as demonstrative as Daisy about it. People usually aren't as expressive as pets. Today is a low profile day with my back still protesting from too much driving, but I've loaded up on drugs to help that and hopefully, tomorrow I will be cruising around a lot more. If I could just get my back to cooperate more, Vermont weekends could be more frequent!

Stick People

Why is it we all learn to draw people first as stick people? I look at my granddaughter's first attempt at age 3 to draw people. She first drew Mommy in pink, herself in green, her brother in blue, and two attempts of Daddy in purple. And a big two toned rock--she loves rocks. Brings them into the house to display them everywhere...must get that from her rock-climbing father. I wish I looked like one of her stick figures instead of the bloated mass I have become.