psycho men

February 15, 2009

It’s almost 1:00am and I keep checking to make sure the door is locked. Every time I hear steps in the hall I hold my breath. There was this guy that I had gone on two dates with. Everything was fine, but just fine, nothing spectacular and I won’t settle for anything less than spectacular. Plus there was something that didn’t feel quite right. Today I didn’t have the energy to tell him that I wasn’t interested. I was tired because I spent the night with my lover that keeps up late. My lips raw, my hair a matted mess, I got home this morning and went back to sleep. Eventually I arose and got dressed. I went out for a beer with one of my friends. This man I had just barely began seeing arrived in the bar. I saw him out of the corner of my eye and pretended like I didn’t see him. I just wanted an easy mellow evening, but I could feel his eyes on me. He had called me way too many times today, bordering on psychotic. So, I said bye to my friends and left. He followed me outside and yelled very loud “HEY” like I was his fucking dog or something. I stopped and said hello. He was very annoyed and rude to me. I kept walking, then sent him a text that said to leave me alone. Let’s hope he does.

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early morning hurricane

February 12, 2009

I’d almost forgotten the pleasures of dancing alone in my apartment. Incredibly full of energy considering I got up at 4:30 this morning.  I’m impatiently waiting for my friend to come visit, armed with dinner from Sporty’s.  This warm(er) weather has broadened the smile on my face.  It feels so good that I’m afraid of what the real spring will do to me!  It’s always funny to come home after I had to get up early.  It looks like an actual fight took place. Coffee dripping down the cupboards, every single seed from my everything bagel scattered about, dirty knives, underpants and books all over the floor.  Last minute I decide I need to iron and my mini-ironing board is on my kitchen table.  It’s absolutely amazing that I can create such a mess in a half-asleep state in such a short amount of time.  Apparently manic Jen works in all states of consciousness.  Today was such a great day at clinical.  I actually felt like a real nurse.  Things are coming together between my mind and the hospital floor.  Random encounters and coincidences abound this week. This is the stuff I crave….

flowers

February 11, 2009

There were flowers left outside the door to my apartment today, but they weren’t from whom I wanted them to be from.

ice fishing

February 9, 2009

My body feels like it got hit by a truck. Actually, I took a major digger out of a sled being pulled by a snowmobile. No major injuries, just some bruises (and I love bruises). The nearly full moon hidden by clouds, we were flying across the frozen lake in darkness when all of a sudden I was air born then tumbling head over heels through the snow. I lied on the ground sprawled out laughing and screaming for the boys to turn around and get me. We traveled from shanty to shanty. I observed the different styles like an interior decorator might. Unfortunately our driver got nabbed by the cops and ended up with a DWI. We were stranded miles away from our shanty. Words were exchanged between the cops and the fishermen and myself. Eventually, we had to hike back to our shanty. Despite it being unseasonably warm for February, our feet were freezing because we had fallen through the ice a bit in an attempt to push the snowmobile out of the slush (before the arrest). I told the cops we were going to die if left to walk drunk and alone across the lake. He just shrugged his shoulders. Finally, some friends came zooming up behind us and motioned for us to climb on the machines. Rescued by a rugged man, I squeezed up close behind him to block the wind.

It was a beautiful night. Oh and by the way, we never caught any fish. But I don’t think that was the point.

fluorescent beeping

February 6, 2009

I have a new appreciation for fluorescent lights. Yes, we all still look horrid under them, but I like how they expose us.  For the past two days I’ve been wrapped in the rhythmic beeping of monitors and basked under bright fluorescent lights.  My brain stimulated from every angle.  Eyes darting about to catch something new, ears perked to the doctors conversations, on my toes, on my toes, on my toes.  I long for the time when I can work the 7p to 7a shift in the ED.   I would rather listen to the ambulance radio-in to base than to music.  I prefer to keep my hands busy with hooking up 12-lead ECGs and filling syringes.  I love to break glass ampules with my fingers.  I like how my hands get sweaty under the purple nitrate gloves and how they can breathe again when I pull them off.  

So much is secretive in life, so much is hidden.  In fact I’m hiding from you my recent love and sex adventures because what I have going on is quite great and I feel that if I write about it, I may jinx my carefully balanced situation.  In the ED you are exposed, not just the patients but the nurses and doctors and techs.  It’s so demanding and draining that just about every ounce of your being goes into it.  And that is why I need to work there.  Every pore exposed, every bodily orifice explored, blood and urine is analyzed, heart rhythms interpreted.  It’s all out there on the table (or on the floor).  Sometimes I wish the rest of life was so easy to decode.