May 12, 2009

I’ve spent a lot of time on planes and in airports over the past 48 hours.  This is what I thought about en route…

I’m still fascinated by flight attendants, and I’ve finally made the connection; the very first flight attendants had to be RN’s back in the day.  It must have been sort of glamourous at first, then the nurse’s must have gotten bored because not much action ever really happens during a flight.  My favorite flight attendant this trip was Lance.  He was in his mid-forties with an incredible mustache, and a no-nonsense attitude about him.  He had an amazing voice; deep, smooth and calm.  I silently prayed that it would be him that would announce the emergency instructions if the plane were to crash.  His voice would be the one I would want to hear before I died in a fiery wreckage.  If this career with Delta doesn’t work out for Lance, he could easily switch to being a D.J. at a radio station or even host his own talk show.

A funny thing was announced while we were taxiing on the runway, “If you cannot hear the pilot speaking over the loud speaker or hear a flight attendant talking to you, remove your headphones or ear pieces”.  The woman sitting next to me, gave a nudge and said “Don’t forget to breathe”.  No kidding.  I could go off on that topic about how dumbed down our society has become, but I’d like to stay on track with the ever fascinating airlines.

Remember when you could smoke on planes?  I’d only been on one, and it wasn’t that long ago, 2001 maybe.  Bangkok to Delhi.  Good old, Air India.  While shoveling curry into my mouth that was served by a beautiful woman wearing a sari as her uniform and a bright bindi on her forehead, I squinted through the smokey haze.  The high-pitched Hindi music rattled my brain and quickened my pulse as I tried to make out the lights of the mysterious city below below.  In the air, I was only given a glimpse of the complex world I was about to enter on the sub-continent.

Now, they threaten that “Anyone tampering with, disabling or destroying the smoke detector will be fined”.  I love the idea of someone in the tiny bathroom, having a nicotine fit, frantically trying to ‘destroy’ the smoke detector so they can sneak a puff in.  Every time I take a pee, I stare up and wonder how exactly, I would go about destroying it.  Smashing would probably do the trick, with my first if I was feeling rugged or maybe I would bring a tool in with me.  Somehow submerging it in water seems like a viable option as well.  

I wonder if the fine one would incur, would be immediate or would it be mailed to you?  Would they allow you off the plane or make you pay the $2,200 right then and there….



March 19, 2009

I should be relieved that I have less than two months left of school.  However, I’m incredibly anxious.  This is because I don’t have a job lined up, no one in my class does…. Apparently the economic crisis has crept in and affected even the Nursing shortage.  People have lost their jobs, thus their insurance, so less people are going to hospitals, which translates to hospitals in the midst of a hiring freeze.  That’s not my only concern, I have something else that is gnawing in my belly….

I feel like I’ve been running in place with someone’s hand pushed up against my forehead.  Their hand is big and strong and my head is sweating.  I’m running and trying to push past this thing that is holding me in place.  I’m exhausted, I’ve almost lost the will to keep going.  I’m scared because my enthusiasm has dwindled.  Nursing school sucks the life out of you.  While I’m surrounded by some wonderful people I’m also surrounded by complainers and very negative people.  I’ve been knocked down so many times by my clinical instructors that I feel unsure that I’m even washing my hands correctly anymore.  When I started school I was fresh out of a hardcore Wilderness EMT course.  I was fired up.  I was sure of myself.  I felt there were limitless possibilities.  I’ve been repressed in this sucky school system forced to take classes like math (not math that I’d use) and technical communications!  They just want my money. more more more…. I have none left and by the looks of it, no means to gain any in the near future.  I don’t even care about the money thing so much right now.  I care about my passion and where it has gone to…  I know it’s in there, in here, as I feel my heart thumping in my chest.  I’m ready to explode, I need the next thing.  Something to look forward to and plan for.  I want a job that I’m thrilled about.  I swear to god if I have to work in long term care I’ll…. I’ll what? I don’t know because I won’t work there.  That would be like studying to be a gourmet chef and end up flipping burgers at McDonalds.  

So, I’ve been scouring the internet. Goddammit I can find what I want in this vast invisible world.  Google, search, link, google some more, pulling at strings here…. I’ve applied to some awesome new nurse graduate programs in Austin, Texas and L.A.  Who knows? But I won’t settle on waiting around here for some crap job.  I’ll move, again and again, I’ll relocate in order to dive in somewhere worthy.

I’ve hit the wall. I seriously don’t give a f*** about school anymore.  I’m getting just fine grades, but I’m certainly not putting my all into it anymore.  I’ve just got to get through.  It’s a joke.

things I miss

October 6, 2008

In no particular order:

The sound of an acoustic guitar in a messy apartment

Coffee brought to me in bed


Living next to the ocean 

Sleeping through the night



September 26, 2008

I’ve dodged two bullets this month.  I’m stepping away from the front line, my kevlar is wearing thin.


August 20, 2008

The last few days of summer are closing in on me.  The air is already starting to feel cool in the evening and the darkness creeps in earlier.  Armed in knee-socks I hit the streets, on a mission.  I’ve discovered that inside my tightly pulled up socks I can stash my I.D., phone, some cash and my key.  Ah, the freedom of nothing to carry.  

Lately there is an urgency in the air and I approach the days as if there is not enough time.  Not enough time to fit it all in and no time for regret.  I fly around town on my bike, I try not to use my brakes but sometimes I get scared and slow down.  I wander through the woods or climb up the mountain with sweat pouring off of me.  I like the sting of mosquitos.  The glow of fireflies.  I make-out with men in the basement of bars.  I help the bartender re-stock and clean-up in exchange for free after hours drinks.  I met a beautiful trapeze artist with a bruise on her belly from the metal bar.  I often wake up in a downtown apartment with the morning sun streaming through the tall windows.  I help people bathe, throw-up and listen to them cry.  I dance with strangers to the juke-box.  I try to stay outside of my apartment because it gets lonely in here.  I find people to bowl with, and bowl a damn good game!  I will never get sick of Dance Dance Revolution.  I help with building a house.  I tickle my niece and wonder when I’ll have a kid of my own.  I climb on top of cop cars and pose for photos while the cop shakes his head and giggles.  I fall for people then I throw things at them.

not so glamorous

July 21, 2008

The last thing I did before I left work today was help to tie restraints on a combative 90 year old man.  Before that, I listened to an older woman babble nonsense like I’ve never heard before.  She had absolutely no idea where she was or what was going on and she seemed afraid.  Another older woman was unable to move about on her own and infected with MRSA.  We had to don yellow precaution gowns and gloves before we entered the room to use a lift to move her from bed to chair.  While suspended in air poop, lots of it oozed from her bottom.  It dripped and plopped all over the bed.  Once we got her clean, it happened again.  Another man was dying and unable to control his bladder.  I changed his gown and bed sheets 3 times in one hour.  

I wonder if any of this has been fuel for my self-destructive ways lately.  Do I consciously make poor choices when I know better because I don’t want to end up like these people.  Because I want to die before things ever get that bad, before I’m helpless.

Bow to your Sensei

July 2, 2008

I’ve decided to get back into martial arts.  Yesterday I took a Tae Kwon Do class and am feeling it today, my muscles are nice and sore.  It’s been a couple of years since I’ve stepped into a dojo and my heart sped up at the sight of the protective head gear, gloves, nunchucks, and the smell of sweat.  Since I was the new kid in the class the instructor took me aside and I got to have a one on one lesson.  The next hour was spent hammering away at the pads she held up.  I worked on a good sturdy stance and a combo of punches (left, right, left, right), elbow hits (swing hard enough to break the nose!), knees (grab their head and slam your knee up into their face!), kick, kick!  In between this series my Sensei ordered me to do push ups and sit ups.  She worked me hard, and I wanted more.  I love people that push me.  

Why does Tae Kwon Do appeal to me so much?  It’s the training of both the body and mind, the discipline, the rank, the testing, the order, humility, the systematic approach to becoming better, respect.  “Tae” means to kick or squash with the foot. “Kwon” implies a hand or fist to block, punch, strike or destroy.  “Do” denotes an art or way.