Tuesday, September 08, 2015

I love living in the future

As I was walking the pups about an hour ago, I realized I had left the apartment without my trusty maglite. Dammit!

Now I literally couldn't see shit.

While Tucker was completing his patented PoopWalk in a spot under a shrub, I was wondering whether I should be a dick and ditch the poo, or head back to the apartment to get my flashlight. Then the figurative lightbulb went off above my head, and I remembered I had been wanting to get a flashlight app on my phone for awhile. A few seconds later, smartphone in one hand and plastic bag in the other, I was able to do my duty.

Living in the future ROCKS!

Friday, August 28, 2015

Made it!

Mostly in one piece, even.

I have a ton of bruises on my forearms and thighs from schlepping heavy stuff up stairs, ESPECIALLY the super-awesome sleeper sofa that Marko and Robin gave us.

It has a queen-sized bed, which decided to start opening when the twins and I were half-way up the flight of stairs to my apartment.

Then the unfolding bed frame kept getting lodged on various parts of the stairs. The girls and I were laughing, because at that point, what else can you do? It was either laugh hysterically or start sobbing.

But we didn't give up! And now my apartment is all set up, except for the pictures, certificates, and diplomas I still have to hang up.

Oh, and I want to set up the spare bedroom as a nice massage/treatment room. When I have some extra cash (hah!), I want to outfit it with a hot towel cabinet and nice artwork and decorations, so it has a real spa feel. Oh, and those amazing electric, rechargeable tea lights! They had those in the last spa I worked at and they are truly lovely.

I have been running really low on sleep, what with working until the day before my move, and being obsessed with getting everything unpacked, sorted, and put away. Plus the dogs have been understandably anxious, so have been waking me up super-early.

Yesterday evening, around 6PM or so, I decided to lie down with the dogs and read a little before making my dinner. Next thing I knew, the dogs were waking me up at midnight to tell me they needed to go out, NOW.


I walked them, got ready for bed (for REALZ, this time) and crashed again. Until 7AM this morning.

I guess my body and brain both needed the rest! And I STILL took a nap this afternoon, albeit only for an hour this time. I am totally taking advantage of my time off, since I start my new job on Monday (*gulp*). Not that I'm anxious about that, AT ALL. Oh, no. Never.

The best thing that happened today was meeting my new dog walker, Beth. She's this amazing lady who adopts dogs considered "unadoptable". She currently has six, but has had up to eight at a time. Needless to say, she doesn't live in an apartment! Anyway, she's very nice, comes highly recommended, and my dogs loved her. Oh, and she charges very reasonable rates, which also thrills me. I'm very relieved to know that she'll be spending time with and walking my dogs anytime I'm working a twelve-hour shift.

The second-best thing was meeting a xoloitzcuintle in real life, for the very first time!
Her name is Eva, and she's very friendly and was playful with Harley and Tucker. Heh, her owner said she has a full-body suit for the winter, and I guess she'd need that!
She looks just like this, only female:
 Image Source

So, that's the updatey info! I'll be sure to post about orientation and all that jazz next week. Have a great weekend!

Sunday, August 23, 2015

It Begins...

the Great Northern Migration, that is.

Today is my last shift at the AWESOME spa I've been working at since January. I'm far sadder to leave that job than my nursing one, which I bid adieu with nary a whimper on Friday.

Two of my children are helping me move (THANKS, TWINKIES!), but since neither of them currently has a driver's license, I have to drive my car up to New Hamster this afternoon, catch a bus back to Taxachusetts, then do the whole UHaul, schlepp, load, drive, unload, schlepp thingy on Monday. Then drive the twins back to Mass and pick up my fur babies and take them to our new home on Tuesday.

Lots of driving, ugh. Somewhere in there, hopefully tomorrow, I'm driving the UHaul over to Castle Frostbite, where Marko and Robin are very generously donating some items they no longer want or need to the cause of Furnishing Christina's Abode.

Wonder if I can smuggle Ygraine out with the furniture? She's adorable and a little neurotic, just like MY dogs...shhhhhhh, don't tell!
Somehow I think three pets aren't covered on my lease, though...my landlord wouldn't approve.
Well, it was a nice dream while it lasted! I'll just have to give her extra scritches when I see her.

A week from tomorrow I start my new job...not that I'm nervous or anything. No. Not at ALL.

Anyway, wish me luck and that my knee doesn't give me any problems doing all this heavy lifting!
See you on the other side!

Wednesday, August 12, 2015

Awkward Realities of Home Health Nursing

The setting: My patient's family's apartment. It's 9:00 PM, time for me to head home. I can't just walk out and leave, I have to make sure there's a responsible adult in the home. I open his bedroom door and the rest of the apartment is dark, except for a light in the kitchen. I peek in and see my patient's younger brother, playing on his iPad at the kitchen table as he eats a bowl of cereal...

Me: Hey, Pete! Is your mom or grandmother home?

Pete (9 years old): I think my grandma is upstairs at my uncle's, I dunno where Mom is...ask my sister.

Me: OK, thanks!

I peek into the kids' bedroom, the door is open, and Hazel (age 11) is on the top bunk, perusing HER iPad...

Me: Hey, Hazel! Do you know where your mom or grandma are?

Hazel: Grandma is upstairs, sleeping at my Uncle's place. I think Mom's in her bedroom.

Hazel proceeds to climb out of bed, leaves her room, and blithely walks over to her mother's room and opens the door, WITHOUT KNOCKING OR WAITING...

Mother's boyfriend (scrambling off of mom and off the bed): I'M CHANGING MY CLOTHES!

Hazel meanwhile calmly closes the door, turns and walks back to her room.

Me: Okay then, Hazel! Your mom is home, your brother is doing fine, I'll see you next week! And you should really knock on doors before opening them. BYE!

Then I hightail it out of there, probably leaving a contrail.

How hard would it have been for mom to poke (ha!) her head into my patient's room when she got home from work, just to tell me she's actually home. Or she could've even texted me if she didn't want to do that. And have people forgotten how to lock their bedroom doors? And hell, what about WAITING TO GET BUSY WITH THE BOYFRIEND UNTIL ALL HER CHILDREN ARE ASLEEP AND THE NURSE HAS LEFT?!

I'm so glad next week is my last in homecare. I can't wait to work in the hospital, which will bring its own challenges, I'm sure, but hopefully nothing quite this crass. I move to New Hampshire a week from Monday.


Thursday, July 23, 2015

Neither Ping nor Beer.

I have a nasty cold, still. I had a sore throat from the beginning of last week, and while I had hoped it was merely allergies, that hope was dashed as I started feeling worse and worse while working at the spa last Saturday.

The manager ended up sending me home because they definitely didn't want my contagious ass around the clients and (especially) the other employees.

Upon arriving home early Saturday afternoon, I put myself to bed. And there I remained until Tuesday afternoon when I had to get ready for work. Yes, I called in sick for Sunday AND Monday, even though I hate missing work and really hate losing money.

I remember brushing my teeth once or twice during that time period, but other than that, my hygiene was seriously lacking. It's tough to think about showering or brushing your hair when you're struggling to even breathe. Summer colds are the WORST.

When I finally dragged my fragrant carcass out of bed, I remarked to my roomie that my pong was more lethal that any infectious microorganism I might still be harboring. She never replied to that, I think she was holding her breath...

Sunday, July 12, 2015


I just spent an hour out of a two-hour massage working on a regular client's ass and hamstrings. FML.
Oh, well. At least he's a really good tipper!

Thursday, July 02, 2015


One of my patients likes drama. No, I don't mean in her real life, I mean as in TV shows/movies, etc. She can't manipulate the iPad herself, and she cannot communicate verbally, but she made her displeasure known when she became fed up with the drama du jour she was watching while she was receiving a nebulizer treatment.

So I, technosavvy nurse with new smartphone that I am, put on one of my favorite iHeart Radio stations (Taylor Swift, DON'T JUDGE), blasted it so she could hear the music over the neb machine, and hustled into the kitchen to get her dinner ready. She loves pop music like Katy Perry and Taylor Swift almost as much as she loves TV shows like "Glee" and "Switched at Birth."

Unfortunately, as I was waiting for the microwave to ding, this song started playing.


Considering that my patient is a minor, and her siblings are still minors, not to mention that CUSSING IS UNPROFESSIONAL, I think I broke the land speed record getting to my phone and frantically mashing the "skip" button on the touch screen.

Lesson learned. Luckily her parents didn't hear.

Tuesday, June 09, 2015

Live free or die, Bitches!


New Hampshire, here I come...

Monday, June 08, 2015


working as a private duty nurse is trying my patience and getting on my last nerve. I have a patient whose mother is extremely particular in her son's care, which is fine and understandable, but she's also had a quarter of a century of practice and experience with her son and she just doesn't get that it can take time for a nurse, especially an inexperienced one, to master all the routines and details involved in caring for him. At least to her standards.

So it's truly great that she's scheduled a long-time caregiver to assist in my training, one who's known and nursed the patient since he came home from the hospital almost 25 years ago. Really, this lady has a wealth of experience and knowledge and I appreciate all she can teach me about my patient.

What I have no patience for is 8 hours of listening to New Age mumbo-jumbo, Eastern Mysticism, numerology, and astrology. Especially as it supposedly pertains to me. I don't want to hear which of my chakras are blocked, or how I can cleanse my energy. I don't want to know that 3 and 7 are my important numbers which indicate that I am an ethereal being. Or that because I am a Pisces I am "deep water" which meshes well with the patient's "hot water".

If I'm sweaty, it's because it's hot as balls in the room and I'm wrangling 180 pounds of dead weight, while wearing my dress-code ordered scrubs, not because I'm absorbing the patient's energy. I'm not a psychic vampire, ok? Nor am I an angel. And I don't buy that you can communicate telepathically with our patient. Or that he's communicated with you in dreams. If he's constipated, we know because he hasn't pooped in awhile and he's bloated, not because his "poop points" along his IT bands and on his trapezius muscles are tight. Dietary enzyme supplements don't cure cancer. Just because I'm a massage therapist doesn't mean I believe a bunch of poppycock. Where are the studies? Show me the evidence!

8 hours of being polite and professional have damn near broken me.

How do you tell someone you think they're full of shit without completely alienating them?

Saturday, May 30, 2015

Overheard in the spa...

"Dammit, April! Why didn't you tell me my bangs looked like Cthulhu coming to devour your soul?!"

"I thought that was the look you were going for!"


Note to self, look in the mirror after walking in the wind and before getting your client...