don't give me that look

the stress is beginning. the stress of waiting, of not knowing. the stress that it is going to be a week before i can have the biopsy done. then more days to wait for the results. my chest hurts and i feel my mind just sort of going numb.
i want to cry, but can't.
you would think that maybe i might want to scream, but that would take energy, and the stress of waiting is taking all my energy.
my chest hurts.
it feels heavy, like it is pulling me down.
that is my stress.
i need to call my doctor and ask him for a nerve pill, because i am not going to make it a week.
the thing is, i am not even thinking like, "why me?" or "what if i do have cancer?" i think i am more focused on the surgery. my impatience is taking over and i want it done yesterday.
i am falling apart inside myself, and straining to not show it on the outside.
i had to ask for a day off to have the surgery done, so of course i had to tell the boss why i needed that day off, as i already had taken some other days off so that i would not lose vacation time. i told him not to tell anyone else. i don't want them to give me that look.
yes, there's a look. sad eyes, pity behind them.
the other day, i was able to speak to another woman who had breast cancer. a total stranger to me, but not a stranger because she has been in my shoes before. she did not give me that look, because she understands. i need that woman today.
i didn't tell the people at work because i don't want them asking questions.
i don't want them talking to me about it, because it is my personal life and they are not my friends. just nosy people who want you to think they care, but i already know that they don't. at least not in the way a friend would. the people i work with are not my friends.
this is a time where i wish i had a companion. i was brought up to believe that men are stronger than women. a man is supposed to take care of a woman. you know, that sort of stuff.
i just need someone to hold my hand and give me a bit of strength.

this really sucks

i have just blogged on my other site, but i cannot bring myself to blog about what is on my mind. it is late sunday night, and i must wait until wednesday to go to the consult with the surgeon. it aggravates me so that i cannot do it al NOW. i hate the wait.
no matter what i am doing, i find my mind wandering back to the idea that i might possibly have breast cancer.
wandering back? that is really a laugh. i am not wanderng back to that thought, it is always there, just slightly covered with the activity i am doing at the time. it pops up through the coating i am making attempts to paint over it.
there are times i feel tears trying to break through. my throat gets all choked up and my eyes moisten. then i do a little sniffle and it is gone.
sometimes i feel like i need to burst out in tears, but they really don't come. just for a second maybe, but no more than that.
i think about my sisters and mom, my sister in law. all who have had cancer. all survived except mom. daryl was first. she was in her thirties and she did not discuss it with me. i am not sure how much she discussed with the rest of the family either. she and i were always on the outs, and the rest of the girls lived quite a distance.
when mom got breast cancer, she was near 60. she was in chicago, and they did radiation on her. i do not know how much was irradiated, but i do know that it did metastasize to her cervix then to her liver. will that happen to me also? i am having a hysterectomy in july for other reasons, so i will not have to worry about that sort of metastasize.
terry had it just a few years ago. she is the baby girl of the family. she sort of withdrew from everyone and when i called to speak with her, she did not have much to say to me. she did pull through and was then able to talk about it.
louise, the very oldest of the full blood sisters, also had breast cancer. i had not seen her for awhile, but when i did, you could tell that she was sick. she does not communicate with me, but i believe she was healed from it. remission is what that is called.
i am not sure if ramona has had it or not. most times i do not consider her my sister, so i do not keep tabs on her.
my sister in law petey, she had it just a bit over a year ago. all was gotten in her treatment.
and i worry about having cancer, because less than a year ago, my daughter mykal lost her most bestest friend to breast cancer, after a 6 year fight.
so you see why it is always at the front of my mind, though i try my hardest to push it to the back, where the worrying would not be taking place. at least not so much to bother me with?
my breast hurts. i have always had aches and pains in both my breasts, but they seem more so this week. i know it is only because the area was found. the left breast feels much heavier than the right one, but i know it is not due to the calcifications. i believe it is only worry.
near 20 years ago, i had another scare with the same breast. the doctor ordered a MRI because the mammogram showed a large area that was not normal, but not calcifications or some type of lump. it came back normal.
i cried for weeks waiting for the test and for the results. i was afraid then.
i am still wondering if i am afraid now, or just mad at the inconveinence it will cause me? the biggest part is the financial status. how much will the insurance cover if i do have cancer? i did not take out the supplementary insurance. i don't even remember if the new system offered it this year.
it pisses me off that if i do have cancer, i will probably not be able to work alot of the time. will my disability insurance be enough for me to live on?
i am not one to sit back and let someone else take care of me. i am not going to be an invalid.
i am thinking ahead too much. that pisses me off too, but i am not good at waiting. i am one for making plans, even if they are plans that i must change.
this really sucks.
huggsss

i might be afraid

i have come here to blog today because very few people have the link to this blog, or even know about it, and i just feel the need to blog without everyone i know reading it. especially my family. they don't need to know how i feel....yet.
truthfully, i don't know how i feel.
about a week ago, i went to have my wonderful mammogram done. i was not going to do it, but my nipple has been unusually sore, so i decided to go ahead and do the boob squish thing. now i wonder, was it a good thing or not? of course, everyone will say it was a good thing, because that is what a woman is supposed to do.
it was discovered that i have minicalcifications.
now, this does not have to mean anything really, because minicalcifications are rarely cancer, but......
yes, there is a but. but my minicalcifications are in a cluster, and that is usually a sign of cancer.
now there is my "how i feel" part. am i scared? i don't think so, but again, i don't know. how do you feel when you are afraid you might have breast cancer? how do you feel when you are faking you are strong, but you are really scared?
yesterday, i went for what they call a stereotactic biopsy. that is where they make you lay face down on the table, and your boob hangs through a hole. they do another mammogram to find the cluster, and then they numb your breast, sticking a needle into this cluster and sucking up some of the microcalcifications. my problem, the area they want to get to is next to the chest wall, and they were not able to get a good enough view to do this biopsy.
so, after squishing my boob, and resquishing my boob, the radiologist tells me i am now going to have to go have a lumpectomy.
great.
all this hurry up and wait.
i will have a consultation next wednesday. then it is only to tell me if the surgeon is willing to do the lumpectomy, and give me a date for it, but we will have to get a precertification from the insurance company!
this so sucks.
i hate the waiting. just cut it open, look at it and tell me if i have cancer or not!! please!
i am not patient enough to wait through all of this. make an appointment, then make another appointment. see one doctor, then the other.
they do say that nurses make horrible patients. and that is me. i do not want to be a patient, ever.
so now i must go on wondering if i am afraid, or if i feel it is just another stone to stumble over in life. let's get on with it. i truly think i am afraid, but i think telling myself that i am not afraid is almost believable.
hugggggggssssssss

home away from home

in livermore, my home is a hotel room. in it i have a bed of course. a not so comfortable queen size bed. beside it sits an also not so comfortable lounge chair with a large foot stool in front of it. a bedside table where i placed my cpap machine. it helps me to breathe at night. i sleep on the right side of the bed.
a desk is to the left of the bed. my computer sits on top, with a lamp beside the monitor. a straight back chair is what i sit on as i type. i think i will have hemorrhoids before i leave here. i know, too much information there.
behind me, on the other wall is an open closet where my clothes are hanging, and empty boxes on the above shelf. a low dresser with the television on it. like all hotels. beside this dresser sits the clothes hamper that my youngest daughter bought for me when i went on my first travel nurse position. it is tubular steel with a brown "sack" hanging from them. three sections to sort laundry. it has come in handy.
a square table, which i am sure is for eating at, and another straight backed chair. miscellaneous items sit upon this table. they have no where to be put away, so there they sit.
surprisingly, in the kitchen, i have a full sized refrigerator. two electric burners. i hate electric burners. one itty bitty square sink that nothing fits in. not enough cabinets or counter top space. they supplied a toaster and a tiny coffee maker, but i placed that under the sink, as i drink tea, so i brought my own tea pot, which is actually a coffee maker. all the items they supplied in the kitchen are under the sink, except the toaster. i didn't carry mine clear across the united states to keep in boxes. besides, i have full sets, nicer pans. and i would rather use my pans that i am familiar with if i have to use electricity to cook. there is no oven so i cannot bake, but there is a microwave. not the same.
a nice size bathroom with alot of space under the sink which was nice so i could store my empty boxes. i will need them to pack things back into when i return home.
home. yes, i miss it. probably more so as i have not been to work yet. they had things they needed to get straightened out before they would let me start working. now things are straight and i will start work in the morning.
when i am not working on the computer, the screen saver comes on, with pictures of my grandkids looking out at me. most of them are happy, laughing children, but i have no shame and i will snap a picture of a child who is crying too. when i look at the pictures, i think of what we were doing when they were taken, and how sweet they look. they are not sweet children though. most times they are mean to each other and fight. disrespectful to adults. something that is normal in this world today. my not so perfect grandchildren that they are, i miss them.
time for bed. should not stay up too late when i am in a melancholy mood. makes me miss them more.

i am a nurse, part two

i really wish i felt like looking for that photo of me at the first nursing job i held, but you will have to do without it. by the time i was writing the other night, i was tired and i forgot to tell you some of the things i wanted to tell you. first off, that "smock" that i was wearing as a student, was one of the UGLIEST things i have ever worn in my life. it was neon pink and heavy polyester. there was not one student that liked it. though i did keep it for years afterward, i finally burned it with the trash. do you know that polyester does not burn very well?
when i was going to nursing school, my husband at the time was not working. he was on unemployment. the first half of my training, he was really good to me and took care of the kids so i could study when i got home. the second half of the training, when i had to do clinicals, he was not so supportive. i had to take a weekend job so that i would have money for gas and lunches. after classes, i would come home to make meals and do household chores, then at night when i tried to study, he would not help with the kids any. therefore i had to help them with their studies and put them to bed. regardless of his efforts to pull me down and set me up for failure, my grades remained above the C average. his mother made him go to my graduation.
in january of 1985, i officially became a Licensed Practical Nurse.
my first position was over an hour from home. i worked there for three months making $5.25 an hour. it was in a nursing home. the reason i accepted the position so far from home is that this was the only facility i could find that would allow me to work before i had taken my boards. (that is the testing you take to earn your license). i worked under the supervision of a RN. my first night of passing medications on my own, i gave a patient the wrong medication. i was ready to throw in the towel and never return to nursing. the nurse i was working with laughed so hard she could barely speak to the doctor to tell him of the medication error. i could not call him as i was crying. she even had the doctor laughing. as you can tell, the medication was nothing that would harm the patient, so at least i had not begun my profession by killing off patients.
my favorite patient at this nursing home was a schizophrenic little lady. probably all of 5 foot tall and maybe weighed 100 pounds. she did not take kindly to other people. paranoid about what every one was doing around her, and would not even speak to the nurses when they spoke to her.
she always wore a dress that hung straight on her, and a sweater. on her feet, she wore white socks and tennis shoes. her short gray hair in a pixie cut. her eyes dark and troubled. she had taken to me. she would follow me around as i passed my medicines, or stand at the desk watching over it as i charted on other patients. i never had a problem out of her, though the other nurses warned me that i would.
i worked the evening shift. one day i arrived at work, and she rushed up to me. you could see that she was frightened. she grasped my arm tightly, telling me "there's something wrong with my feet". i looked down at her feet, and nothing seemed apparent. i asked her if they hurt, and she said no, they didn't. she repeatedly told me there was something wrong with her feet. when i sat her in a chair so that i could examine her feet, i asked her what was wrong with her feet. i am leaning down to remove her shoes and socks, which surprises all other staff members, as this woman lets no one touch her. they could get nothing out of her all day. she waited the whole day for me to arrive at work.
i am removing one of her shoes when she said to me, "they're black". i was not sure what she said, so i asked her "what?" my little lady said again, "they're black, my feet are black. they are dead and they will fall off. i have gangrene in my feet. they are black and they are dead".
as i was beginning to remove a sock, i had to stifle a laugh. her feet were perfectly pink. they were warm and pulses were strong. as i replaced her sock to her foot, i looked up to her and explained to her, "your feet are ok." i am still stifling my laugh as she again tells me, "no they are not ok, they are black." it took some time for me to get her to understand that it was not her feet that was black, that it was her socks.
it was one of the coldest years in illinois that winter. i drove a car that had no heater, and scraped the inside of the window with a piece of hard plastic so that i could see to drive to work. when i had a car with a heater in it, i blew a tire on the way home in nineteen below zero weather, with no spare tire. after i had my license in hand, i went to work closer to home. it was in a smaller nursing home, about 20 miles from home.
i worked the midnight shift, and had my first experience with a patient having a seizure. learned i loved taking care of the patients wounds. encountered my first case of shingles. when my husband at the time told me i still worked too far from home, i quit this position and got my third one within 5 miles of home.
this is the job i held, where i learned to be a nurse. and i want to thank my good friend, patty rowley for this. yes, patty is one of the women who carpooled with me to classes. and patty is the nurse i teamed up with to work midnight shift at a nursing home that was a place to learn in itself.
we had both been nurses for less than a year, but patty had worked as a nursing assistant for several years. therefore being more familiar with the type of work we were doing . patty taught me team work. we had about 100 patients to care for. on a good night, we had 4 nursing assistants to work with us. on a not so good night, well, patty and i became nursing assistants and helped turn and clean patients on rounds, as well as our nursing duties.
this nursing facility took in any type of patient that would come here. we had patients who had feeding tubes inserted through their nose into their stomachs. when they pulled them out, we had to replace them. this was before the time of all the formulas in cans, and we were putting pureed food into these tubes with syringes.
we had patients with ventilators. here we had to insert tracheostomy tubes because the patient would pull it out and toss it across the room. we had to learn to suction the patient through this trach so that he would not drown on his own secretions. we had to learn how to set up the ventilator and keep it going in a power outage. most of all, we had to learn how to reassure this patient that he was not going to die on our shift because he could not breathe properly. on midnight shift, we were the RN. no, we did not have that license, but we had only us. two new nurses learning together.
thank God one nurse was patty.
she was hungry for knowledge. she taught me to find answers. she taught me to fight for my patients to get the care they needed from the doctors. we were half of each other. what one did not know, the other probably did. we completed each other sentences. if we did a procedure together, we were each others hands, not having to tell the other what step to do next.
i was working with patty the night i had my first death. i had just checked on my patient. a woman in a room by herself. respiratory problems. now at the opposite end of the hall, patty called out to me, and i came back to her outside the womans room. patty asked me if i had checked on this woman, and i told her yes i did, and she said to me, "are you sure? she is dead you know".
"what! no she is not dead! i was just in there and she was breathing!"
"well, she must have been taking her last breath, because she is dead".
turning on the light, i went to her bedside. she took one last breath at this time, and then she was gone. that night, i learned to call a family, and tell them that their mom just took a turn for the worse and might not make it, then wait for them to arrive and tell them she passed just before they got there. i learned how to be there for the daughter because she just could not bear to say goodbye to mom by herself. you learn how to make the dead look like they are still alive, only sleeping. you learn that there is life after death, because even though your patient has died, you still have work to do.
we worked together in this nursing home for a couple of years. it seemed much longer than that. we learned so much together. we worked midnights, then evenings. i learned so much because of her. she was there when i got divorced, and she was there when i got married for a second time.
we had many nights of laughter, such as the night she set my one gray hair on fire. i had laid my head to rest on the table. she saw my gray hair, and thought she would do me a favor by burning it off my head, not thinking that the other hairs would catch fire also. luckily, she figured that out quite quickly, and it only sizzled the ends of my hair, but i got even. i have to laugh inside as i remember it. there are these large bandages, that look like old fashioned kotex pads, only wider. they are called a b d pads. they are soaker pads for large wounds. i took the abd pad and placed it on my head, tying it in place with a long piece of gauze, with a bow under my chin like an easter bonnet. i walked around like this the biggest part of the night, with patty laughing and crying at the same time because she felt so bad that she almost burned me up, but found my response so funny.
patty left me to go to california. she worked in a hospital there, and found her own husband. we lost touch over the years, but i will never forget her. i am the nurse that i am because of her.
that is about the first seven years of my nursing career. after that, i went to work at a hospital for 5 or 6 years. bed baths and pill passing. the staff i worked with was cold and non caring. the drive was too much for me, and after falling asleep coming home for the third time, i left there for another nursing home. so many stories, so many tears of joy and sadness. for seven years, i lost grandma too many times.
because i am a nurse, and because i deal with death quite frequently, it made it easier to let my mother go when her time came. i understood that wishing her to stay with us would only cause her more suffering and pain. i understood that as she neared death, she was ready for it. being a nurse, i was able to let her go.
all nurses should work in nursing homes. i don't mean for their entire career. it is too hard for some of us to do that. what i mean is, that all nurses should be required to spend a year or two in a nursing home so that they can learn how to work with love in your heart. how to help a patient die with dignity, and how to let one go. only in a nursing home do you get to feel the love of your patient because they become your family. you learn how to whisper them away when death comes for them. you hold their hand because they have no other family members left to hold their hand.
when you work in a nursing home, when you are having a bad day, "grandma" will hug it away. when you are having a good day, "grandpa" will remind you how quickly it can go bad. you know there is a God. you see miracles happen.
you ask me, if i enjoyed working in the nursing homes so much, why did i leave, why do i now work in a hospital?
unfortunately, because "grandma" died one too many times. my last one i was so attached too, when she passed on, the pain was so great, i found it hard to continue working at the home. only waiting to lose the next one.
in a hospital, we lose patients. yes we do, but we send more of them home.

it has been 25 years since i became a nurse. because of what we call "burn out", i almost quit nursing. instead i took up travel nursing. i remained on staff at my "home" hospital, on a per diem basis. i did not want to burn my bridges behind me, which is a good thing i didn't. right now i am unable to acquire any travel positions, so i work full time at my "home" position.

when you travel nurse, they do things differently in "other parts" of our country. lafayette, louisiana is where i landed my first travel position. i had much difficulty learning to understand the french cajun's speaking, but after i did we did well. i got to meet an alligator almost face to face.

they are a little more laid back in loueeseeana. a very enjoyable place to be. i got to meet alot of nurses from other parts of the country, and after 5 months there i got to move on to miami.

there i worked on the spinal cord unit of the veterans hospital. never think you know it all. my patients were paralyzed from just a tad bit, to partial, to complete. care for them is not what i was taught. it was a total different story. i will not go into detail of what i learned in caring for these people, but what i will tell you is that before miami, my paralyzed patients were not getting proper care. so far from it.

travel nursing has given me the ability to bring further learning/teaching back to my current position. it gave me the ability to show my co-workers how to better care for some of our patients today. how to make it easier to get someone in and out of bed with a lift. how to apply the sling to ensure better comfort for the patient.

i am ready to return to travel nursing. they are just not ready for me. so i stay home.

twenty five years ago, i had no idea i would still be doing this today. twenty five years ago, i could not even look at the needle as i prepared to give my first "shot in the butt".

this is the beginning of nine months in miami. gwen, rolanda, me, donna, kris, i forget, in back in blue is marsha then cathy. i don't remember the names of the others.

i am a nurse.

When You Have Death, You Have Ghosts

this evening i went to the wake of a little girl. wait, they don't call it that anymore. they call it visitation now. this little girl, Madison, was 5 years old, and she developed a cancer in the back of her neck. when it was almost healed, the cancer spread to her lungs and wrapped around her little heart, taking her from us very quickly.
her mother works at the hospital with me. she was doing quite well considering her daughter died in her arms 4 nights ago. when i went in to hug her, she grabbed me so tight saying "thank you for coming, this means so much to me", over and over again. i did my best not to cry, because i did not want to make her cry. we both succeeded with but a few tears escaping down our cheeks.
madison is in a much better place now. free of sickness and pain. full of love. though she did not have to die to get that. her home was already full of love.

in my job, i deal with death alot. i am a nurse. for many years, i worked in nursing homes, whispering in the ears of those who were so close, but yet hanging on. just waiting for someone to tell them that all would be ok if they went home. many of them, dying alone, for their family members had already passed on before them.
now i am working in a hospital, and though i still deal with death, it is not as frequent as in the nursing home settings. i work on what is called med surg. we get mostly sick patients; pneumonia, stomach problems, cellulitis (infection in the skin) and when they have nasty, nasty wounds, we get 'em. sometimes we get a surgery, but nothing big. therefore, we are called med surg.
we get to send people home! i mean, home here on earth. it does not necessarily mean that they are well, but we do make people well sometimes before they go home.

There Is a Ghost in My House

and it is being onery.
i can hear music playing somewhere over towards my bedroom. at first, i thought my radio clock had gone off. when i went to check it, the music stopped. there is none coming from outside. i checked that too. now that i am back here by the computer, the music is going again. it sounds like a radio playing. every time i go to find it, it stops.
i do have a ghost in my house. two to be exact, unless i have acquired a new one.
my ghosts are not bad, they are just here. i used to hear one walking around upstairs. he came with the house. i believe it is a he. he has never given me reason to believe elsewise.
the other ghost is my nephew by marriage, randy joe. he died after i moved in here. he was in his early twenties, and after several misdiagnoses, they discovered he had leukemia. way too late to save his life.
when i was home alone, upstairs sewing, he would walk up and down the stairs. i could feel him peeking over the rail at me, like he was giggling. i could feel him wanting me to turn around to catch him playing hide and seek, but he is a ghost, so of course i didn't see him.
my ghosts would only make their presence known to me when i was alone. whenever the others were home, my ghosts most likely went elsewhere. and then i was really alone. my whole family moved out, leaving me to live here by myself.
they didn't just dump me. they grew up and went on their way.
can you say "empty nest syndrome"? i had it so bad. the ex moved out on me, then the kids left me one family at a time. lol. first it was randy, then curtis, then sarah took her two hoodlums and got a place with her "other" person. then mykal and her boyfriend took my bradyn and got a home of their own.
before the last little group of my family had moved out, i started construction on a new bedroom. when my new bedroom was completed, i emptied the living room into my old bedroom, and set my computer desk up where the living room used to be. over in a corner. the living room was now "my office". the center of the floor being empty, the dining area still to one far side like it had always been.
i am not too proud to admit, i am addicted to the computer. though i will say, with out the computer, i don't know where i would be. it was people on the other end of the line who kept me sane. in 50 years, i had never lived alone. never. now i lived in a big house, and my only companion was a dog.
but that is not the story, so let's move on.
during the day, i worked. then i would come home to an empty house, do some chores, then settle down in front of the computer. i never had many lights on. no tv running. and you could hear them. my man walking around upstairs, and randy joe on the stairs. i do not remember them ever coming to the living room before, but one night, i began feeling someone looking over my shoulder as i worked on the computer. of course, no one was there.
at first, buddy the dog, would get under my feet, but i reckon he finally adjusted to my company, because he didn't seem to be bothered by them. so though i was alone, i was not alone.
then i went travel nursing. and hired my carpenter to fix the kitchen and bathroom. then i came home again. i moved my office into my bedroom because the old living room was trashed out due to everything was put into it for the remodel job. it was a total mess, and i had to clean it out.
it took me all summer, but i remodeled the living room myself, tearing out carpet, painting walls and the floor. i returned the living room to it's original place. my "office" in a different corner now, on the dining room side.
my ghosts were gone.
i do not know where they went to. i do not think they liked the "new" living room. no one walking about upstairs. no one looking over my shoulder. it has been quite sometime since i last heard my men.
then, a couple months ago, i set my sewing room back up. it is upstairs. the room where randy joe would come up behind me and peek over the rail, daring me to turn to catch him. and he was there again. i was sewing a dress for willow, and i could feel randy joe giggling over on the stair case, peeking over the rail at me as i worked.
then a few days later, i heard my gentleman, walking about upstairs. he must have been checking out what i had been doing. it is a mess up there. i am sure he does not approve of it. but, i do not see him doing anything to help.
they are not the only ghosts i have had in my home. i had not lived here long, and my mother had become very ill. i came out of my old bedroom, and my father was sitting on my sofa. as clear as day.
my father had been dead for 15 years. or something like that. he was looking towards the bedroom door, sitting in the corner of the sofa. one leg crossed over the other. his arm draped across the back of the sofa. he didn't say anything, or do anything. he was just there, then gone. not long after that day, my mother went to join him.
i am sure they have both been here since. i hear my mother call my name. i find the white tips from muriel cigars laying about. daddy smoked those before he passed. you can smell the chantilly lace sometimes after mom has been here. i know they are only visiting me to make sure i am all right.
it is funny. the music is still playing. it is not loud enough so that i can make out what it is, but it is like someone is teasing me, making it just loud enough so that i know it is there, and when i go over towards the bedroom, it will stop. all will be quiet. the room has been there for over two years now. maybe i have a new ghost? maybe it is Madison adding some youth to my group of admirers?
hugggggsssssssss