Daily Post 170: The Post-Work Feelz

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I just got out of work.

It was a day…

And by “it was a day” I mean I got there at 3:45 because I was listed as C2. Census 2. That means as far as how this clinic breaks up tasks, I was supposed to set up the floor. I needed to put out needle packs and treatment sheets and dialysers and string the machines. And today was the day after they bleached the loop, so all of the machines had to be tested for residual bleach so bad shit won’t happen because while bleach is amazing, it’s not amazing inside of your body; specifically inside your bloodstream.

Add to that the knowledge that the new tech, the one I actually don’t really like because she has an avoidance issue when it comes to doing pretty much anything in the clinic, was supposed to open the water room post disinfect…

If somethings going to go wrong it’s going to go wrong this morning, so yeah. I’m going to get there early and work off the clock until 4:15 when I clocked in, because we need to be ahead of schedule for when shit hits the fan… like it did.

There was an issue with the bicarb she mixed. Conductivity on the machines wouldn’t come up. Not a fun way to start the morning.

We recovered. In the grand scheme of things, having to remake bicarb isn’t all that awful. The morning mellowed out after that. Change over wasn’t horrific. I got to dip out 30 minutes early. But even leaving early puts me at less than 12 hours before I have to be awake to get to my own clinic on time for another full day with a nurse from a different clinic who doesn’t know our machines or patients… Less than 12 hours before another rough day where I keep everything afloat… at least that’s what it feels like. I’m the “go-to” person. I’m the one everyone thanks for my hard work.

It would be nice to not be that person right now.

I don’t know why today rubs at the inside of my brain so much, but it does. I’m glad it’s over. I don’t have to go back to that clinic until Wednesday.

My own clinic’s TTS second shift is pretty much full. It’s good in that I can now get all of my hours at my own clinic. Sucky because there are no longer “easy” or “light” days. All days have a changeover and the one for TTS needs to be looked at. I already told my FA that it’s on the borderline of undoable with how patient off and on times are working out. Everything has to run perfect and that’s not how life goes. We need more of a buffer between events or another person on the floor, which won’t happen because there’s such a push on labor hours right now from upper management.

The coming weeks will be more telling, as far as the schedule goes. I’m expecting to have to have some super sucky days before anything changes. The change has to be justified because running behind 30 minutes when there were three of us on the floor wasn’t proof enough. /sigh

Anyway… I guess there really isn’t a whole lot to write about which is sort of sad.

I baked 250 muffins for the patients at all three of my clinics over the past two days. That was fulfilling, though at midnight on Wednesday I was wondering what I had gotten myself into and pretty sure that muffins would be listed as my cause of death. I really was up that late baking, and I still didn’t get all of it done. I had to finish it up Thursday afternoon.

It’s already spread around through the region that I did this “amazing” thing. One of my coworkers today joked about me getting employee of the year to which my reply was “please don’t punish me like that ;-; “

I didn’t bake muffins for special recognition. I don’t want an award or to be called out. I want to stay in the background and to be left alone to do my job. I know it sucks for my patients to come to dialysis on a holiday. So I made them a healthy protein muffin that they could have to celebrate the day in a special way. I didn’t do anything miraculous. Anyone could have baked muffins. And they’re just muffins. I mostly sat around waiting to take them out of the oven and wondering why I was too cheap to buy a second cupcake pan because holy fuck that would have made my life so much easier.

Don’t make it sound like I went to the moon and back because I didn’t. I baked muffins because that’s what I wanted to do. It’s how I wanted to spend my day… sort of. Day… not night and next day, but that’s what the project turned into, so that’s what I did. I had to see it to the end. Hell or high water.

Blah… I don’t want it to turn into a big deal but I feel like maybe it already has. Part of the introvert in me wishes I could undo it. The rest of me, the me who got to see all the smiles and hear all the compliments about how awesome the muffins turned out… that me doesn’t give a fuck about what anyone says or who gets emailed about me being an overachiever. It was worth it to make a bright spot in my patients’ day.

Ox and I are doing alright. The apartment is going ok. Still no internet. So much sad. ;-;

Maybe I’m too burnt out to really appreciate writing right now. I’m sitting at a Slim Chickens with food in front of me, ignoring it as I favor typing more than eating. I have to go across the street to Costco for gas. I figured food and internet would be a nice way to try to decompress from work, but I don’t think it’s really working all that much. I have my headphones in, making my own little bubble in the world as I try to type through this internal frustration and… anger? Maybe that’s what it is?

Why anger?

Maybe because Jon tried calling me while I was at work. I called me once I had clocked out but by then he had company over and wanted to chat later. I want to talk to mom, but I can’t. The closest I can get to that is talking to Jon and he didn’t want to talk. It sucks.

I want to work only at my clinic and not have to worry about covering at one I don’t like with sub-par people who make the day harder than it should be. I’m sort of angry that I’m scheduled to close said clinic I don’t like only to turn around at have to be at my own clinic super early in the morning. What the hell? How is that even fair? Did you not see what you were doing when you were making the schedule? How the hell am I supposed to get sleep inbetween those shifts?

This is one of those moments where I know I’m tired. I know I’m tired and I should just go to sleep because I’m so out of care that I just want the world to burn to ash around me.

When I ask myself “Is it worth it?” My answer is no. I don’t care. I’ve spent my entire day caring and so now I’m done. I have no more care left. The only thing I care about is being able to cry to let it all go and I can’t even bring myself to do that because that requires more effort then I can give.

I want someone to say that they understand that it sucks. That it hurts. That it’s not fair.

I want understanding but the person I want to understand can’t talk back to me. She can’t answer the phone. She can’t sit across from me at the table I’m sitting at. She can’t be here and that sucks. It sucks and it makes me angry.

Maybe that’s where it all started today… One of my patients was saying how he was grateful he was alive and how he is turning 63 and blessed. He’s older than my mom was when she died. It’s just fucking unfair sometimes. And I have to be understanding and supportive while I ache and hurt over a comment that wasn’t meant the way I took it.

It just… fucking sucks sometimes… And right now is one of those sometimes.

I miss you, mom. I’m still doing well. I’m doing so much at work and involved in so many things. I know you are proud of the difference I’m making. I love you. I guess I just need you to know that right now.

I love you and I miss you. I hope you’re doing well where ever you are. I hope you’re doing awesome things, too. I hope when we get to see each other again that we’ll both have tons of stories to tell each other. Good ones. Bad ones. Frustrating ones. Silly ones. Ones that make us laugh and cry and beam with pride and nod in understanding because yeah that might have been a mistake but we’re all human and as long as you learned from it that’s the important thing.

You’re still the best, mom. The best listener. The best confidant. The best perspective. The best. There’s still no one who can replace you and while I’m grateful for that, it still sucks. It sucks because I wish you were here. I wish I could hear you, listen to you, hug you.

I’m sorry it hurts today, mom. I’m pretty sure it hurts you, too, when I’m like this and I don’t mean for it to be that way. I’ll be ok. I’ll get better in a few days. I’m pretty sure what I need right now is to have a really good cry and to go to sleep for 16 hours.

Maybe I’ll be able to do that Sunday. Maybe that’s what I can give myself to look forward to. I can get everything done Saturday so I can sleep Sunday away; staying in pjs all day and not having to interact with people or do things. Just me and myself and solitude and maybe Ox and maybe a movie where we cuddle together again and enjoy being together since we don’t get that very often anymore.

Thanks for listening to me, mom. I feel better for writing to you. I still want to cry, but it feels like when I do actually do it, it will be a clean cry; a healing cry.

I’ll talk to you later, mom. I love you. Forever and for always.

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