A New Day

MY WRITE
Scott Donald Sanderlin
(C) MMIV

Comments/Correspondence to:sunfoof

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After all of that,
Today I will truly say:
God loves me for sure.

---

To live is to wonder.
To wonder is to live.
sds

A Very Bad Day

I do not feel that I am worth much today. Actually, I do not feel that I am worth anything anymore. I do wish that I were not a chickens**t, though. I do wish that I had the onions to finish this recipe I began so long ago. Instead, I am doomed to endure decades filled to capacity with the inglorious experience of re-living the mistakes I've made. Over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and don't you understand that I don't know how to make it quit? I want peace and quiet in my mind, but I don't know how to let it go. Help me. and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over, 'til the blessed end.

ByeBye Car & Random Prose

I said goodbye to my old car today. How I loved that car. But that it's gone now provides a sense of relief. Heh, at least now I won't be tempted to drive it. I feel good that I sold it and I think that it'll probably give the new owner a couple-to-few good years. Besides, it's really fun to drive; he'll enjoy it. It's an '89 Acura Integra; a first-generation little zipper with a Honda heart and the reflexes of a cat. I'll miss it. I have to admit I am getting quite acquainted and accustomed to the plush comfort of the Buick. She's my new 'Baby Boo', and she's a sweet ride. Well, here's my submission for the day ...

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MY WRITE
Scott Donald Sanderlin
(C) MMIV

Comments/Correspondence to:sunfoof

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_Seen of Self-Realization_

The wet, hot fingers of a hundred toothpick-sized jets of steamy water met the skin on her scalp so deliciously she gasps inside herself. She moves her head slowly, in ever-widening circles, languishing long in the moment. Her lips parting, she relishes a trickle pooling under her tongue, a taste like the very first drop of water. Feeling her head tilt back and slightly forward, she lingers there, her mind floating on the whisper of a moment, as the water tickles and teases that just right spot behind the crown of her skull. Enduring the decadence of the instant no longer, she rests her chin on her chest and counts her toes. It's strangely reassuring to see all ten each time.

And she is overcome with the thought, "It is possible."

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All I can really say about that piece is that it's pretty random. It's tricky to try and think from an entirely different gender perspective. I was trying to ellicit the genuine believability of the moment. Well, anyway, thanks for reading. Namaste.

---

To live is to wonder.
To wonder is to live.
sds

Ides of March

MY WRITE
Scott Donald Sanderlin
(C) MMIV

Comments/Correspondence to: sunfoof

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I began this post on the Ides of March, to be sure. BTW, I've learned how to add links (and I believe I do so legally - please advise). So don't forget to click a few. The links are mostly to sites of interest to me, and hopefully to you all, as well. Other links I might incorporate to clarify or illustrate my meanings. I have also incorporated a mailto as I am interested in serious [preferably] feedback about my content. The links are NOT re-directs to pop-up frenzied mass-marketing scams, nor are they re-directs to porn or other nefarious websites. So be not afraid and visit at your will and leisure, to satisfy your curiosity.

Now forward. I am making a musical sojourn with some old friends, King Crimson. I will listen to, at least, Starless and Bible Black and Discipline. This post is imminently important for me because, one year ago -- 366 days this time -- I recieved the unpleasant surprise that my wife would no longer be living in our home. Not as though an unfathomable outcome, but definitely a surprise. "That won't happen in my marriage. It only happens to other people. I won't do what my parents did." Lalala. My father would call that, 'Happy Horseshit'.

"Beware the Ides of March," was the sagely advice offered so long ago and so far away. Yea, the fateful Ides did extol its virtue upon me, as well, after my own fashion. Something very important was taken away from me that day, or so I alleged in abaisance (that's an oldie but goodie) to my swelled, wounded, and defensive pride. I know now that I, too, tread the boards on that stage of desolate desperation. I, too, sacrificed my own ideals because it was too painful to face my own culpability. A common gesture of assured self-destruction, true, but no more amenable to acceptability. Acrimonious, in fact. [damn, today feels like a 'good word day'] Absolutely.

In terms of union, the relationship unraveled whether I sentenced the marriage to dissolution or not. Something was gone and I no longer retained the same sense of control over it. The profundity of today's date is marked by the recognition that I have begun to relenquish control over something else which I regard as paramount in my humble existence. That something being the written record of my mentation, 'My Write'. [some people might refer to it as 'mental masturbation']

'My Write' is something which I have always held dear and something which I have sublimated for long as a result [irrational] of fearing any possible misinterpretation or misunderstanding. Two outcomes which are, though likely inevitable, engendered in and essential to the "spirimental" growth process. Two outcomes which must be accepted by the thinker-feeler before personal progress can truly be made. I am fallible to that fear, as an INTJ - though as are many - but an INTJ, especially an INTJ, can accomplish much once that hurdle is cleared.

So I have begun to recognize the relenquish of control over what I write, what words I choose to clear my mind with. The words may be trounced or denounced, lofted or lauged at, even martyred or stolen. I really have little say-so. OK, I may be able to acclimatize to that notion. "Matte Kudasai" is playing. What a beautiful song. These guys are musical geniuses. Wow, what a beautiful song! It would be difficult to trounce these words (everloving thanks to Dwala for introducing me to this band - hope you're doin' OK girl):

"Stand by the window pane.
Pain, like the rain that's falling
She waits in the air, Matte Kudasai.
She sleeps in a chair...in her sad America
When, when was the night so long?
Long, like the notes I'm sending.
She waits in the air, Matte Kudasai.
She sleeps in a chair...in her sad America
She waits in the air, Matte Kudasai.
She sleeps in a chair...in her sad America"
-- King Crimson, Discipline

And so I am letting go this sense of control, relenquishing 'My Write' to the denizens of the blog community. Have mercy, I am merely a thinker and these are the best words I could think of at the time with which to ellicit some meaning from these thoughts that bombard the ramparts of my mind.

For my Mother and Father, of course. Thanks for reading. Namaste.

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To live is to wonder.
To wonder is to live.
sds

To Post "My Write"

MY WRITE
transcription initiated 20040315
by
Scott Donald Sanderlin
(C) MMIV

Comments/Correspondence to:sunfoof

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a scattering of haiku
-------------------------

there is too much to lose...
i stand at the edge, gazing,
feeling fear of then.

she looks at me long....
i feel peaceful and wonder,
shall i know her long?

tomorrow is there...
waiting, patient, for my act,
my soul wants to go.

i see beauty there...
she is no figment, no dream.
i am awake now.
to live is to feel...
joy and pain, brothers anon.
feeling is living.

she is an angel...
come to deliver
my spirit from turmoil.

i stand ready now...
i pray that she is with me,
together to quest.

- sds 19960317

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I have noticed that much of 'My Write' is not dated. This one was, and dated for St. Patrick's Day, to boot! Anyway, I thought it would be an interesting one to start with. I'm not sure of the "she"; however, it may be in reference to my good friend, A., whom I met on my second return from hypermania. I met her, a fellow "client", in the halls of Vista. She was clinically depressed and receiving electro-shock therapy (ECT). She always came back from the procedure so spaced out and unnatural. Strange that such a practice, if amplified and punitive, is competitively denounced as inhumane and barbaric for the treatment of criminals who have been reckoned to receive capital punishment. Strange that allegations of barbarism are not espoused by a large socio-ethical interest group as regards the "therapeutic" treatment of persons with mental afflictions. [at least the Powers have curtailed the use of insulin shock therapy - at least that I know of] Ann and I ended up having a brief, but no less fiery affair for a few months. Not necessarily the most appropriate or likely place to forge lifelong friendships, but there are worse venues. I'm not sure where she ended up. She moved away somewhere; I haven't talked to her in almost a full decade. Funny, it doesn't really seem that long ago by one reckoning. By another, it seems as though a lifetime ago. It would be nice to talk to her, to see how she fares. I'm sure her child has grown into a beautiful young lady by now. What was her name? Amanda? Maybe, I don't know.

I'm not exactly sure why I chose to write in lower case, yet maintaining some semblance of grammar and punctuation. Who knows? I'm a dork if you ask my Sister. Right, K? I would enjoy weathering the random, inspired comments by my readers. Serious correspondence only, to: Scott "sunfoof"Again, thanks for reading. Namaste.

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To live is to wonder.
To wonder is to live.
sds

Apology?

I need to make a quick apology before anything else. I was mistaken in alleging the diffidence of my wife in my last post. However, more appropriate communication could have been our mutual endeavor. I apologize for my mistake and for my own lacking communication and recognize that we could have worked better as a team, even in this state of separation. By the way, the separation began one year ago today. Thanks for reading. Namaste.

---

To live is to wonder.
To wonder is to live.
sds

Revision, not re-vision.

** Revised; portions removed secondary to subject's request (I do not wish to be sued for defamation). -sds **

It's almost 5am and, once again, I've been torn from the warm, safe arms of Morpheus by thoughts which are bound and determined to cause me sleepless grief. I suppose I'm receiving my just desserts after how I treated my soon-to-be ex-wife. I might be wrong. There are those who argue that the universe does not work that way. Being a poorly skilled cook, though, I do know that putting crappy ingredients into your meal then yields crappy food. I know that I had alot of options that would have been more mature or more acceptable. But riddle me this: Man is a creation of Nature, just like water or electricity. Almost anyone knows that both of these entities follow the path of least resistance when confronted with resistance. So my question is why is Man supposed to be regarded as more than natural ("supernatural"?) in his own circumstances? Is it because of this particular conscious, dynamic relationship with his environment? Is it because of terms and definitions which Man has interred into the abbatoir of human consciousness? (Thanks, Sis... though I believe you used "...of human faith") One must recognize the dangerous folly which such suppositions can generate. Thinking of Man as greater than Nature is, in fact, Pride. Pride, as many will attest, is a dangerous attitude to adopt. Through the light of Pride our eyes are oft blinded and we can easily lose our Way.

Enough philo-rational prattle for now. Anyway, back to my lamentation: She has taken the position of avoiding me and not returning my phone calls or other solicitations. This sucks for me right now because I needed her signature on some paperwork from my last job in order to get a COBRA health insurance continuation. I still need her signature to receive my retirement contributions and remaining leave pay. So now the sins of my past are costing me real money. Was it worth it? Well, at the time I thought so. But now that the damages could potentially create the opportunity cost of thousands of dollars, I'm pretty sure I beg to differ with myself.

Problem is, I think I beg to differ with myself too often. Kind of impedes forward progress, doesn't it? I know that's a sentence fragment but this the 21st century. Does it really matter? Besides, who ever said that rhetorical questions needed to be grammatically correct, anyway?

My Mom told me that she started reading ScooBlog. I wonder if I will consciously or subconsciously begin meta-editing or self-censoring my posts as a result. In any case, she has asked me again to release to her some of 'My Write'. Maybe I'll do that here as well; it's a wide-open forum, after all. It would be a good place to put my work and I could even post some after-thoughts about the pieces as I post them. Yeah, I'll give it a shot, likely with the next post. I just have to find the folder and journals I've written in.

OK, I've started yawning again. I'm heading back to bed to see if I can fall asleep again, too. Thanks for reading. Namaste.

(Here's a short one, Mom...)

To live is to wonder.
To wonder is to live.
- sds

A True Friend

I found out today that I might have a true friend. This is too big to write about right now, but I had to post it. You had to know. It's taken 34 years and countless misperceptions... It just started raining. I hope I'm not wrong again.

Today is his birthday, too. Happy Birthday, G3!!

---

To live is to wonder.
To wonder is to live.
sds

Sunny Sunday?

Today is Sunday. And it was sunny today. It was very nice outside. I had to do some work on my car; the right front window has ceased to go up and down. That's the downside to power accessories on a car...they're great until they break, then it costs an arm and a leg (whether my time or by paying someone) to fix it. Nonetheless, the car is beautiful. It's a '94 Buick LeSabre and boy, does it sure look good with a washing/waxing. There's just a new coating of oak pollen on it every day lately. Oh well, that's the price of Spring. I'd rather have the promise of new trees than no pollen at all.

Tomorrow is my big day in court. Not for me, yet. This is a US District Court jury selection. I got out of the last one because my wife was sick in the hospital. This time, I suppose, I might get selected to do my civic duty. We'll see. I first have to make it past the preliminary questionnaire. Who knows, I'm fairly opinionated about some things, anyway. No, I'm still waiting for my divorce papers for my big day in court. Joy, joy.

Damn! So it looks like so far I'm using this blog like a journal. Ho-hum. Guess I might be losing a lot of readers. Maybe I don't have any. That would be a shame, but could I blame anyone? I mean, if one wants to experience other people's problems it's a whole lot easier to watch "Cops". Surprising enough to me, though, is that I've posted more than once. Trivial, to be sure, but for me that's good. My family has been telling me to get stuff out of my head anyway. I usually worry too much about what other people think of what I say or write, or how I act, or whatever, anyway. This is nice because once my blog is posted and published, it's out of my head and into the shameless, shapeless maw of cyberspace. Kind of like a garbage disposal or a hungry goat or something. Also, blogging is becoming my way of using my web connection as more than a convenient reference tool and email hub. Still, the connection is mostly just that, though, a convenience. Unless, of course, this MedHunters thing works; kind of like Monster.com for nurses and medical personnel.

Is it obvious that I can't think of a darn thing to write today? It's a shame, really. I can dribble on with drivel for a long time, though, maybe forever. I do have a few writing skills; now I just need a reason to write and something to write about. It happens for other people, so chances are it could happen for me, too. One day soon, hopefully, I will begin to see a purpose coalesce behind the simple motivation of trying to blog more than once per week. In the meantime, I'll try to stick to my loose schedule of blogging every other day.

A friend of mine has been germinating a great idea for a story that could be written into an animated movie. I would almost write about that in more detail, except the idea's not mine and I would be disappointed with myself if someone came behind me and took his idea. It makes me wonder what happened to my ideas. I know I've had some. Actually, now that I say that, I realize that the ideas are probably still there. There's just been a lot of other stuff on my mind lately. Excuse? Maybe. It's hard to tell. I've been double-talking and out-thinking myself now since mid-December. It's beyond time for motivation - way beyond time. I wonder, does everybody have similar difficulty with motivation? If so, then some people definitely deal with it better. I definitely do not. Sometimes I feel like I need a DI all up in my face telling me what to do. I guess some people are just born with that self-DI and others aren't. I am an "aren't", which is absolutely no solace for my parents. Hell, I'm not even going to have my act together enough to give either of them a grandchild in time, either. Some kid I've grown up to be.

Hell, if they had had a class for motivation in high school, would I have even taken it if it wasn't mandatory? Knowing me...no. But they did have a class where you could watch your friends drill holes in their fingers. The alternative was a class where you learned how to make food. Funny. They called that class "Home Economics" but, from what I heard, budgeting money or the appropriate use of financial credit was never a topic. It was all about baking a cake, or whatever, and blowing the opportunity to learn something more useful. Same with shop class. Have I even touched a belt sander since high school? In the 16+ years that have passed I have looked at one (my Dad had a decent wood-working shop going for a while), but I don't recall ever using it. I missed my chance there, too. I should have spent more time with Dad.

That brings up a sore spot. It's been that many years and I haven't heard a peep about a class reunion. I don't think of myself as hard to find. Heck, I registered with classmates.com and so did most of the rest of my graduating class. Maybe people don't take that kind of thing seriously like they used to. I guess I could call the school, but...anyway. I remember one year my Mom was on a reunion committee for her graduating class. Man, she was excited! I remember helping her stuff envelopes. Gawd, I hated the nasty taste of the glue on the envelope flaps! Now, I can understand how George's fiancee died from licking the wedding invitation envelopes in that episode of "Seinfeld".

Come to think of it, this blog is a lot like "Seinfeld" in that it is pretty much about nothing. The difference is that "Seinfeld" was funny. I think that what is funny is that people used to call me funny because they didn't want to call me weird. But then they treated me like I was weird anyway. What was the point? I sure didn't feel funny. I felt weird. I feel envy for the weirdos that made it, though. All of we weirdos stood out because we see things differently than other people. Some of the weirdos have truly blossomed in their own way, once they found their niche. Maybe I am trying to be too Argus-eyed, trying to find this promised land called "My Niche". I can tell you this much, though, when I find it I'm damn sure not going to let go. Not for anybody. I have long thought that opportunity does not, in fact, knock at all; he just kind of sits out in the hall, politely clearing his throat ("Ahem"). If you've got your stereo on too loud, or if you're in the bathroom, he might have been and gone a hundred times. Think of all the people who wear their Walkman while they vacuum. Boy, are they ever SOL!

Not to be too self-deprecating but I hope that I find something more interesting to blog next time - and for your sake as well, reader. Until then, thanks for reading. Namaste.

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To live is to wonder.
To wonder is to live.
sds

Random

I recognized that visiting blogs is like going to garage sales. It doesn't really matter what people put in their garage to sell because the random visitors are going to see what they do and don't like, regardless. So that's my motivation, I guess, for my blog. I want to clear some stuff out of my garage. If you like it, stick around and check it out. If not, I'm sure you'll find something to please you elsewhere on the Web.

I don't want to get too far today without thanking Kimmy, on the Blogger staff, for helping me to see my last posting. Being a newbie I did something amiss to yield a post I couldn't read. But it's there now; so thanks again, Kimmy.

Today the most prevalent thing on my conscious mind is a headache. The thing that bothers me about it is that it's been here for a few days, almost a week. The doctor said...well, I haven't gone to a doctor. Why would somebody have the money for a fat-pipe Internet connection but not take himself to the doctor? Good question. Spock would definitely question the logic of this. Well, I find myself between jobs at the present. This is definitely not someplace I wish to be but, nonetheless, I find myself here as an unemployed statistic. Undoubtedly, the stress of unemployment is not helping my headache.

I remember studying unemployment in UF's business college. It seemed so remote and non-threatening, like a thundercloud in another lifetime. The ironic thing, of course, was that as a student I was already unemployed - in a way. Sure I was studying and all, but with the socializing and out-right partying (that we all consider "perks of the educationally unemployed") it didn't seem like much of a job at all. Even group projects were fun, in their own special way. But you don't hear people in business suits touting any shameful debauchery while they cram out their white-board productions for their managers and VPs.

Anyway, I ended up changing from a business major to a liberal arts major, finally settling on Nursing. After starting my college education in music studies (voice), I found myself a long way from Kansas, so to speak. Now, after my liberal-minded education I find myself smack-dab in the middle of a liberalist's core statistic. I know I probably won't be in this statistical group for long, as a nurse, but it's definitely been a battle of confidence after losing my first career job. It doesn't matter what I, you, or anyone else says...losing your job is devastating. It has affected my professional confidence more deeply than I could have imagined. I knew I could get a job as a nurse when I started out, and I did. I thought I could keep that same job, but I didn't. The responsibility was and is mine and mine alone, no matter how much help I got along the way. And I let myself down, not to mention the friends and family that did help me along the way. I forgive myself and try to move on, but I'm still having trouble facing myself in the mirror.

Part of being a nurse is maintaining control of your emotions on the job. That is considered professionalism. The juxtaposition is that you are paid to care but you're not supposed to show it or get tied up in caring or feeling. I will wager to say that medical professions are involved in one of the most emotionally-demanding industries on the planet, barring but few contenders. Nursing, of all medical professions is, IMHO, the most emotionally demanding of them all. But, again, you're not supposed to get all wrapped up in the emotions of it all while you're on the job, and you're definitely not supposed to show unpoplular emotions on the job. I think that the only emotions allowed are industriousness and the occasional passing smile. I found out that I had a problem with that, after all. Come to think of it, I don't recall clearly that emotions were an issue in my nursing studies. We talked about professional demeanor, courtesy, and expectations...hmmm...I really don't remember talking about personal emotions and how to manage them on the job. That's probably one of the things I would teach most if I were teaching Nursing. I would tell my students that if they had any doubt in their emotional sanctity, they should definitely be prepared for a greater challenge in their new careers. And if they did not feel that they had doubt, I would warn them to address their emotional needs regularly...to keep that doubt in check. I feel that the doubt is likely always there, maybe just sometimes just louder. In any case, I found out on the job that I had some issues - issues that ended up costing me my job and my confidence.

I can't help but feeling that a nurse (along with an exponentially-increasing job description) functions as an emotional clearing house in the hospital setting. I had been involved in patient care in a few different respects prior to gaining my RN. But nothing that I had done could truly prepare me for this aspect of the career. Specifically: A nurse gets emotional backlash from many (not all, admittedly) physicians, residents, interns, and medical students. When a patient presents personal difficulty, obstinance, non-compliance, or other non-textbook issues, it is often the nurse whohas to handle the situation emotionally. The medical staff gets upset sometimes (understatement?) when things aren't going as they tried to plan. Well, there must be something the nurse can do to rectify the situation, right? IMHO, I have a paranoid suspicion that the independent culpability of nurses is something they teach in medical school. On the other hand, patients and their families are always emotinally distraught about their current circumstances. And who becomes the emotional arbiter for the patient and their family? Yup, the nurse does. 100% of the time. And if you don't get the samples to the lab in time, or if the patient craps himself on the way to Xray, the lab tech will definitely tell you what their thoughts about you are. The list is too long, even for cyberspace. Bottom line is: A nurse has to mediate alot of emotional turmoil, all the while maintaining this false storefront of "professionalism". Yeah, yeah, I know...everybody's got problems, kid.

I do recall, from nursing school, that I was told, "Nurses have to have thick skin. You just can't take it personally." What other way is there to take it when a patient's family is alleging your lack of skill or competence, or when a doctor is chewing you out in the middle of the hall in front of God and Creation. What happened to MD professionalism? Have they no standards? Have they no governance over their (often) lack of courtesy or their (more often) lack of mutual professional respect? I will venture to say that we nurses have to have more than just "thick skin". We need someplace that we can truly vent this stuff out. We are constantly confronted with the injustices of medical treatment, the inhumanity of the insurance industry, and the de-humanization of the patient/family customer unit. But don't take it personally. That just doesn't mean much to me. IMHO, anyone that believes that "hooey" is fooling themselves.

My last job I worked for a patient population who has already given more to society than most of the public could ever imagine, unless they watch alot of the History Channel. I had to watch each day as these patients were fed line after line of excuses as they waited for their treatments. I really learned why the medical customer is called a "patient". I used to tell some of my guys that, if I thought it would help. I found out that I have a huge chip on my shoulder regarding the care of this patient population. I can't explain to myself why a nation spends so much of its resources trying to develop new methods to eliminate the threats to our culture while it is so stingy in delivering care to the persons that delivered the "old methods". When I started to realize this I should have changed jobs right then and avoided the trouble that was to come. I mean, at that point I could have realized that fighting the uphill battle that is Nursing, in that setting, was not appropriate for me and that the mis-match of ideologies was unseating my professionalism more than I knew. I started to feel like it was me against my employer (and my employer's employer); that is not a good recipe for success in a job.

I also should have taken better care of myself emotionally. Not for the sake of keeping my job, really. More for the sake of the people to whom I lashed out. Of course, I sure wish I could take it back. From here, I can't fathom what I was thinking in situ; why couldn't I see myself falling apart. I just didn't handle the pressure well on that job. My fear now is that I won't be able to handle the pressure on a new job. I don't know how many times you can get fired in Nursing and still be considered employable. But from my perspective, right now, it seems like "zero" is the answer. I know that most of that is probably myself fighting myself, but that doesn't make it any easier to swallow that pill. I guess I'm just going to have to get more water.

Well, this has definitely been cheaper than counseling, for the flat rate of a Web connection. But the problem is now, at the time when counseling would give me feedback for what I've said. Hmmm...Nope, still can't hear any feedback. At least I found a place to vent. This is much better than screaming at a random cloud or tree when I tell the world what bothers me. Thanks for reading. Namaste.

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To live is to wonder.
To wonder is to live.
sds

* speaking of which, check out this link! *

Warning!

WARNING!! Don't read this if you have anything better to do.

Today I don't really know how I feel. Again. One moment I feel like crying, the next moment I feel like worrying. In between I feel lost and confused, kind of like I want to squeeze my head at the temples until something gives.

I just put in my favorite Bill Laswell remix, Emerald Aether: Shape Shifting. If you don't have it, haven't heard it, or never heard of Bill Laswell [search results link]- and you're reading this - you might want to check it out. He is a down-beat master. Absolutely. He could probably remix a whispering rock. You may be able to refute 100% of what I write but you cannot refute this.

I like this actually, even through the dripping mists of depression. It's strangely comforting to just write out of my head. It's concurrently discomforting, as well, realizing that in a matter of minutes virtually anyone will be able to just randomly find my expressions and read them at will. There's an awful lot of confidence to be found there, though. I just recognized that. I think I'll be more concerned about improving my grammar than fretting over the acceptance of my content. Hopefully no one will care if I only use one space behind my periods. That extra one has always seemed like a complete waste of space. I remember when I asked my typing teacher, she told me that's just the way it was and that's how she graded it. Think of all the time secretaries could have saved by omitting that extra tap on the space bar. To the business world that would have saved millions of dollars. Anyway, even though this whole operation is public...well, you still can't see my eyes. Seeing my thoughts is as close as you'll get. In any case, it's a good excuse to practice typing. It's almost better than IM'ing or chatting. But the truly independent sensation is hard to beat.

I was reading about blogs in Wired a while ago. The blogs I have visited have all been interesting in one way or another but each time I found myself asking, "Why am I reading this, anyway?" After checking out quite a few I figured on putting my own down, at least until I get bored or whatever. So there you go. Go ahead and ask yourself (if you haven't already), "Why am I reading this, anyway?" I wonder what answer you'll get.

Before I go, let me muster a few positive thoughts in care of Joey.
Joey, whatever is going on with you, I know that there is at least one angel watching over you now, relaying peace to your direction.
Joey, whoever you are, I know that there is at least one positive outcome for your present circumstances. I know that you will see it.
Joey, wherever you are, I know that there are easier rows to hoe. I know that you will find real comfort somewhere soon.
Anyone who read this far, please send out some positive energy for Joey. I saw the same request as follows: (pay it forward)
"If you've any spare positive thoughts over the next few days, Ken and I would appreciate it if you sent them out into the universe in care of Joey. Thanks."
I saw it at: *Joey* on 2004.02.29."

So that about wraps up for today. Funny, I don't feel quite as 'head-squeezy' as I did when I started. I know Bill Laswell [different link] helped but this was good, too. Now, off to see my first post!! CYA

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To live is to wonder.
To wonder is to live.
sds