My Shitty Shitty Horrible Day

Had a rough couple of days. On Monday morning I quit my job. I love my job. But there was a test of wills with my big-boss-higher-than-god director, who wanted me to float to another floor that was short, who is not used to being told "no", and I wasn't giving in. And that was that. I told her I took a $10 an hour pay cut to be staff on this floor and I wasn't going. Ever. I have been there 8 years. And I love my job. And I am good at it. I told her, after she informed me she was putting me on administrative leave that " I don't think I want to work for someone like you anyhow Maria." I told her I had a huge problem with the fact that she was ready to fire me over not floating, yet she was putting another nurse in charge who 2 years ago was not allowed to come back to the hospital as registry because she dropped a baby on the floor. The last thing I said to her was (and in front of a token human resources drone brought in to pacify/threaten me, my nurse manager, and my assistant nurse manager) that " Maria, I'll just reapply when you are gone, it won't be long - it never is."

So I felt like drinking. I'm not feeling much like sharing details, but lots of alcohol later, which induced lots of unresolved issues between Royce and I, the stress of losing my job, one bar and a strip club later, and god knows how much money, we ended this lovely day in the County ER getting Royce's hand stiched up. My very drunk, very Irish husband put his hand through our windshield on the way home. This was not a random act. It was the very end, the very exacerbation of things that had been building for a long time. And so it ended. It finally blew up. I am fine, Royce would never hurt me, but boy does that boy have a solid right punch and a temper to match. I love Royce very much. I rode with him in the ambulance to the ER and assisted the doctor as he sewed him up. Thankfully he didn't break anything but the windshield. The doctor said the only reason his hand didn't break was because of the size of the bones in his hand. Royce of course remembers none of this. The last thing he remembered was sitting down at the strip club, and the next thing he remembered was getting stitched up. I had to fill him in on the details. The car looks like a fucking crime scene inside. He lost so much blood. I think the 8 milligrams of morphine they gave him at the hospital cured his hangover the next day, but boy is his hand hurting today. And percocet doesn't touch him. I'm sorry this whole thing happened. I didn't make him do anything, he is a big boy, but I do have some responsibility in it all. The windshield is being replaced Friday.

Yesterday was my 2 week mark, my weigh in day. I was 172. So 11 pounds in 2 weeks. But today in the middle of the day I was 171. So now 12 pounds. I decided that my weigh in day would be the day I have some carbs, after I get weighed of course. So yesterday I had a potato skin with cheese and everything. It was heavenly. Absolutely heavenly. And a little pasta. And some Jager. And stopped myself there. Actually the heavy carbs in the potato skins made me feel so sick, I'm just not used to them anymore. But it was SO good. So now back to strict no carbs for a week or so. So if I'm 171 in the middle of today, we'll see what I am in the morning. I can't wait until I am under 170. The 160's.

Yesterday was the day after I quit. I asked my friend Loida about the facility she works at, she called back and I immediately got an interview for this morning. They hired me on the spot. So I have a new job. It will be totally different. I will be the charge nurse at a short term step down kind of facility. I will be in charge of the Lpns and the Cnas, and will do very little patient care and lots and lots of charting and signing my name. Not my kind of idea of nursing, but I am taking it. The pay is a little more than I was making, no weekends, dayshift, overtime if I want it, and a $3600 sign on bonus. Not bad. Its pretty close to home, and all the people seemed really nice. And I will get to see Loida everyday. And see my kids everynight. And sleep next to my husband every night. But never in a million years would I have traded OB for a nursing home. But life is funny. The directions it takes you. But its not forever. I'll be back. When the witch is dead.

I found out from Nikki today that our old high school teacher, Mr Bowers recently died. I always liked him. Everyone did. It sounded like it was cancer. And he wasn't very old. Its so sad. I hate cancer. But if thats what it was, and it was really bad, I'm glad he is gone and no longer suffering. It made me feel bad though. He was so nice. Peggy will feel really bad.

So hopefully less than 171 in the am.

There are some really great pictures of the windshield and Royce's hand on his blog.
http://www.royceman.blogspot.com/