Girl Scout Dropout

And its the start of a new one. My baby girl starts high school today. High school. As in the last school she will go to before college.

In the morning I will drop her off at the same high school that I went to. She will make all the wonderful and not so wonderful memories that high school forces us to have. She will endure the absolute cattiness that only teenage girls are capable of showing. She will learn to manage her time. She will learn how to really study. She will start learning how to break free from me, so that she can spread her wings.

It seems like yesterday I was holding her hand and walking into kindergarten with her. Giving her that reassuring hug that everything will be ok. That mom will be there when the bell rings to pick her up, and that we will get ice cream.

Now I’m there for her when her friends start fighting and try to draw her into the middle. I’m there when her boyfriend is being a douche. I’m there when her friends are having problems and have no where else to turn.

I’m the mother of a high schooler. Its a whole new game. I don’t know the rules. I don’t know what to do. This is where I’m supposed to step back a bit and watch her live. Let her live. Watch her make mistakes. Help her when she fails. Let her fail. I’m not sure I can do that. I don’t know how to do that.

I’ve watched Taylor grow over these past 14 1/2 years. I can see the little girl from years ago. I see the young woman she is. I can see the woman she is trying so desperately to become. I hear her speak her mind. I listen to her talk about her ideas and her opinions on world views. And she impresses me. I have no idea how I’m so lucky to have her as my daughter.

Tomorrow, I have to let her spread her wings. And I don’t think I’m ready. But I will do it. She deserves it.

I am one week into my big return to school. When I used to say that, I would hear trumpets playing in the background. Kinda like in the old Imperial margarine commercials. Now when I say, I hear the funeral march playing. Yes, the honeymoon is over. I am no longer enthused with my decision to go back to school.

Its only one class. That’s all I’m in right now. Its one class at a time. Not like that’s a back breaker or anything. Its still full time. It comes out 12 credits a semester.

But I have apparently become a little less intelligent since I graduated. Maybe more than a “little less”. My ego is not happy. Which means my mind is not happy. Which in turn makes me a very sad, weepy, depressed bitch. Yep. That’s where we are folks. Come on over to Happyville….population 0.

I got my grade back today on my first assignment. I got a C. I don’t get C’s. I’ve never gotten a C before in my life.  Except in high school. But I was busy with other priorities back then. Ever since I’ve had to pay for my education, I’ve never gotten anything below a B. And I had a fit at those B’s. I received a total of 4 of them on assignments. The memory is burned into the forefront of my brain.

This C has turned me upside down. Is it a sign? An omen? A foreshadowing of horrors to come? I want to quit. But quitting isn’t in my nature. I don’t want to set that kind of example to Taylor. You don’t quit when it gets tough. But I want to. I really, really want to.

My stomach hurts. I internalize my stress. I’m going to go take half a bottle of Tums and watch TV. And try to forget that C exists.

Look who remembered she has a blog! So, what’s been going on lately?

I got approved for my financial aid for school. In fact, I start tomorrow. I’m also scared poopless about this. This is a real university. Not a state community college. I had to order 2 books that are scaring the crap out of me. One is a reference manual on how grammar and punctuation. The other book is all about how to use the APA. I actually had a nightmare about it last night. I’ve more than my share of doubts about this. I’m really beginning to think that I may be over my head on this one.

I turned 35 last week. 35. That’s just a number. It really means nothing. And yet I can’t help but feel like I am a total failure. I had so many plans and dreams for myself when I was younger. Some are even from 10-15 years ago. I’m not the doctor that I had planned on being. I don’t live in Boston. I haven’t traveled the globe. Instead I’m 35 and starting on my BSN. I have a family that depend on me. I’ve never been off of this continent. I live in Wisconsin. Right now I feel as if my life is one gigantic epic fail.

My mom came out to visit the first week of August. We actually had a really good visit. I was so happy to have her here. My kids were beyond excited to have grandma at the house. She left the day after my birthday. I’ve kinda been in a funk ever since. I’m not in my happy place, but I’m not in my dark place.

Work is pretty icky right now. There’s been so many changes going on that the staff are just ornery. And they take it out on the leads. I would treat a person the way some of these nurses treat me and the other leads. I honestly feel as if my job title  should Emotional Punching Bag. I also think that I’m getting an ulcer. I’m taking prilosec like candy and popping tums 24/7.

That’s it for now. I have to start blogging regularly again. Its cheaper than therapy.

Except I do. In order to get my Master’s degree, there’s this pesky little Bachelor’s degree that’s in the way.

I have an appointment Wednesday morning to fill out an application and financial aid info. If all goes well, my first class will start August 18th.

I’m excited and nervous about this. Its been over 2 years since I graduated. That’s over 2 years since I’ve had to do homework, study for tests and write reports. I’m also doing this while I continue to work full time. I didn’t work the last time I was in school.

Its all done online. I love online classes because then I can do assignments when I have the time and motivation. I don’t have to attend any classroom lectures. And what I love the most is that the program is set up for 1 class every 5 weeks! I won’t have to juggle with studying for 4 different classes at the same time. This will allow me to research topics much more in depth. And the clinical portion is only tied in with 3 classes. Thankfully this school realizes that since I’m all ready an RN, I don’t need to work on my nursing skills. The clinicals are exciting to me though. Its about community health, epidemiology of illnesses across the globe (like Avian flu), and a professional one about leadership. From start to finish, if I don’t take any breaks, I will be done in 2 years. Then I get to apply to grad school.

As much as I really don’t want to go back to school, I don’t want to give up on my dream job. Which is attainable, as long as I continue with school. This just puts me one step closer to becoming an APNP.

Now, I have to go put another brick in the wall

As you know, I was recently promoted to a Clinical Lead nurse. I finished my training and this past weekend was my first time alone. Also, keep in mind what I’ve written about the new Collaborative Care (CC) model that has been up and running for almost 2 months.

The main purpose of the CC unit is to take medical patients. And the patients that are admitted by the hospitalist service. All patients.

On Monday the ER sent me a page with an admission. When I looked at the ER trackboard I could see this was a hospitalist patient. I called down to the ER placement nurse to tell her that she sent me the page instead of the CC lead. She told me that the admitting doctor refused to place this patient on the CC floor. I asked why and she didn’t have an answer. Other than the doctor “flat out refused”. At this point I had 3 empty beds and had 8 patients to place for Tuesday morning. I wasn’t 100% positive of the proper protocol to follow, so I asked my manager.

He was pissed. He tried to hide it, but you could see his jaw tighten. I then had to call the CC manager who was at our sister hospital for a meeting. Oh, I should tell you that this  is a frequent flyer patient and he is always a train wreck when he comes in. He’s young, has a trach, a permanent feeding tube placed, he suffered a traumatic brain injury years ago and is unable to talk.

I spoke with the CC manager who said that this is a CC “acceptable” patient. And she told me to challenge the doctor and if he still said no I was to call the hospitalist program director and get her involved. Oh yippee freaking skippy.

So upstairs I went to tell the CC lead that this was happening and she got mad that I “went behind the doctor’s back”. Which got me mad because I knew damn well CC didn’t want this patient on their floor and because the doctor didn’t want to deal with the extra paperwork to admit on the CC unit. The lead told me she’d take of it. I thanked her but told her that I would talk to the doctor.

The pompous ass told me that this patient wouldn’t benefit from the CC model. I asked how he knew that. He couldn’t answer. I flat out told him that there is a protocol and that as a doctor, he doesn’t get to pick and choose who he wants to treat. He didn’t have a response and said that he’d place the patient upstairs.

Then, the ER nurse calls me back and asks why the patient is going upstairs, so I just said  because this is a hospitalist patient. She had the ER doctor next to her who was pissed that the patient was taking up a bed in his ER. He wanted to talk to me. By this point I was literally about to wet myself. I was standing in my manager’s office, and he was listening to me talk to the doctor. The ER doc wasn’t mean, but he didn’t understand why this patient didn’t go upstairs to begin with. I really didn’t have an answer for him….well, I did have an answer but I wasn’t about to tell him it was because the other doc was a lazy ass. THe ER doc then wanted to talk to my manager. He also took the name and number of the CC manager.

I knew that once CC was up and running this would happen. Certain doctors would only want to admit the “easy” patients. It doesn’t work that way. I don’t feel bad that I went and asked about what to do. I do feel bad that this patient got stuck waiting in the ER while it was decided where he would be placed. I would’ve gladly taken him if upstairs was full. But what this doctor wanted to do was wrong. It was unethical, and I wasn’t going to have any part of it.

This is a doctor who is my friend on Facebook. I’ve hung out with him before. He’s met Travis. He’s bought my whole floor lunch. He treats nurses with respect and tries to teach us what he’s thinking as he comes up with a plan of care. I always admired and respected him. Until I saw that he would dump a patient because it would be too much work. A patient that he called “a waste of time”.

I lost every once of respect I had for him. I am pissed off. What if this “waste of time” was my mother? Or yours?

I’m not sorry that I did this. I feel sorry for this doctor. He has to live his reflection in the mirror. I love my reflection. I wonder if he does?

I don’t have a whole lot of things to talk about. So, I decided to just update what’s been going on lately.

The 4th of July was wonderful. I couldn’t have asked for more perfect weather. We grilled out, watched the fireworks and had a relaxing weekend. Except Sunday. We cleaned all day Sunday. Taylor cleaned her room and Seth’s room. Travis and I tackled the downstairs. Our house is now fit for company. I’m sure it will be trashed again by Thursday.

I’m stuck in cardiac training at a different hospital until next week. And its boring. And all I’m allowed to do is follow, observe, and ask questions. So far, I am not amused.

I don’t have to have a biopsy! I’m really excited about that. My ultrasound came back fine, so I’m going to try a new birth control pill and see how things go for 3 months. I’m for anything that doesn’t include cutting a part of me.

I lost 3 pounds over the past week. I am down a total of 5 pounds since I started. I’m very proud of myself.

I have to go to the library. I’m in the mood to read and I don’t have anything new on hand.

I’m finally getting my lighthouse in Animal Crossing! I’ve achieved Gold Member status according to that crook, Tom Nook…and yet I still can’t find a damn silver fishing rod!!

I have October plans that I’m excited about

For the first time in a really long time, my head and my heart are happy….at the same time!! That is amazing.

Those are just two construction machines that I am way too familiar with. This construction craze began when Seth became obsessed. Right around a year a half.

I can tell you the ins and outs of how big machinery work, and all the parts to it. Am I proud of this fact? Kinda. Am I happy that I can make Seth happy? Hell yeah.

Is it possible to get embarrassed due to a child’s interest? Unfortunately, yes it is possible.

We are getting a new Walgreen’s about 2 blocks away from us. A new building means construction. Something that my child was quick to point out before the ground was broken. Every day for the past 6 months we have either drivern by, or walked by, this site.

When we drive, I have to put the window down so Seth can scrutinize every last detail.

It has gotten to the point that I automatically go that way even when I am by myself in the car. I have even stopped to watch. By myself.

The first time I stopped, sans child, one of the construction workers walked over to me and asked if I wanted to let my son out to see the equipment. I almost died as I explained that I just came out of habit and that my son was actually at preschool. You should have seen the look he gave me.

I will admit it, there are some fine looking workers at this site. And they know think that I am bringing my child there are a ruse to see them. As I said, embarrassing.

However, I still drive by that site a minimum of twice a day to keep my son happy.

I never realized that I would have to choose between a child’s happiness and my own embarrassment. Hands down, their happiness wins every time. Besides, those who know me all ready know that I embarrass myself all the time

It was one week ago today that I joined Weight Watchers. Tonight was my meeting, and weigh in. I have been really nervous about this day since I joined.

I didn’t join on a whim. I had been thinking about it for awhile. However, I didn’t have the food to back up the lifestyle. So I just kinda went with it until I could go grocery shopping, which was 3 days later. There was also an unplanned dinner at Taco Bell because the dogs ate our planned dinner.

With all that, I still managed to lose 2 pounds exactly! And that made me so damn happy!!

If I really follow the guidelines this week and toss exercise into the equation, I should do good on the scales next week! Go me!!

Taylor is in the midst of writing a letter to her biological dad, Matt. This is essentially a “fuck you” letter. Its been in the making since she has been a year and a half.

She sounds off on him about how he never sees her, never calls, never even acknowledges her when they are t the same place at the same place at the same time. Matt actually tells his 2 sons that Taylor is their cousin! Who does that?!?

I’m sure it doesn’t help that Becky (that is his wife’s name, I couldn’t make that up if I tried) treats Taylor like crap. She got mad this past Christmas when she realized that Matt actually bought her a gift card to the mall. Tay calls her the Step Bitch. To her face.

For as long as Matt and I have been divorced, I have been careful to not make any negative statements about him in front of her. I have supported her relationship with his parents. Even after I learned that they weren’t being as nice to me. This is what is the hardest for me.

How do you try to put a rational spin on why someone is a complete asshole? It jut doesn’t sound right…”sorry your dad forgot you turned 13 and didn’t call. I’m sure he’s just busy at work.” “Maybe he didn’t get you a Christman present for the 5th year in a row because he doesn’t do te shopping.”

I’m so glad that Taylor is now old enough and can see what a jerk he is for herself.

How can a man that has 2 other kids ignore his firstborn? How can his wife let him get away with that?

I don’t know how to wrap my own head around this. Never mind trying to explain it to a teenager.

We have been through therapy. Many nights of tears. Many days of anger. Now, its just indifference. And that’s almost the worst of them all. She just doesn’t care anymore.

In this letter, she tells him off. She calls him out on his childish behavior. She fills him in on how great her grades are and that she has a boyfriend. She tells him goodbye.

I wonder if I should really let her mail this. I have 2 fears. The first is that she will regret sending it. She says she won’t, but not 100% convinced of that. The second is what is what if he retaliates and calls her and says some vicious things to her?

I’m also very proud of her that she is taking control of her emotions. I love that I have raised her to think and act for herself. I’m just not sure she’s quite ready to handle the consequences.

I had to go to my yearly physical on Monday. The one that every woman always looks forward to. Part of this lovely ritual is getting weighed. I have a strit aversion to scales. I don’t like them. I don’t like to step one them. I can tell how my weight is doing based on my clothes.

Now, I will be completely honest with you as well as with myself. These past couple of years I have noticed my weight creep up. A little bit here, a few more pounds there. I don’t notice it too much wth my clothes, because I tend to live in yoga oants on my days of from work. And at work I wear scrubs.

I will be even a bit more honest. I think part of the reason I wear yoga pants is because they are a little more accommadating of an expanding waistline.

I stepped on the scale and braced myself for the shock. All the while I was hoping to be pleasantly surprised. And there was a surprise. Just not a pleaseant one.

I weight about 5 pounds shy of what I weighed when I went into the hospital to have Seth.

This number could not be right. I stepped off, zeroed it out again and restepped back one. Same number. Crap. That is really what I weigh.

I also started looking at pictures of me that were taken over the past couple of weeks. I don’t like what I see. And I don’t mean the little nit-picky things most people agonize about. I saw my arms. I saw my face, and the double chin that shows in all my smiles. I saw my stomach. I was not amused.

Monday evening I went to a local Weight Watcher’s branch and joined. I did this years ago and I had a good time and lost weight. I’m hoping to repeat this experience. I need to support of a group. Evenmore than that, I need to be held accountable. If I don’t have that, I won’t do it. I have a hard time with willpower when it comes to food.

Here’s to learning to love fruits and veggies again. And to staying out of my kid’s snack food!