Pull Together. It’s Over…

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Can we just… not?

A few weeks ago, I had to take a social media break, simply because there was just too danged much hate on FaceBook and Twitter.

I went back last week. Most of what I found was puppy videos and recipes, or tweets from my sister asking me about sugar-free coffee syrups.

That all changed for me today after the President’s speech in Florida last night. A couple of my friends had posted about their standing with Sweden. I’d been outside most of the day, because in in the greater Goldsboro area, the weather was perfect for sitting outside reading a novel.

I saw the Sweden posts and thought I’d missed the news on another terrorist attack. So I surfed over to my local go-to news site. What I found was the AP articles on how Trump spoke about something refugee-related in Sweden during last night’s rally. Now, I listened to the rally while I was making dinner, but I heard (though didn’t catch) the part about Sweden’s refugee issue. And I REALLY didn’t catch the part about Friday night in Sweden. Sue me.

I don’t feel the need to go further into the situatiom, because if you are following the news, you know what I am talking about.

That said? O.M.G., people! Get over yourselves.

Look, I voted for President Obama in 2008. I did not vote for him in 2012, but I also did not take to the streets or social media to outcry my displeasure about him or the outcome of the latter election.

What I did do, however, was support our POTUS, even though I didn’t agree with some of the things he said/did. I never once posted about what I disagreed with. As an Air Force wife for 18 years, I supported our Commander in Chief, because that is just what you do as a military wife. I supported Clinton during those days when my friends’ husbands were victims of the reduction in force. He was the POTUS, and as such, I supported him. Blind faith? Maybe, but I did what we, as armed forces personnel and their spouses were supposed to do!

Perhaps it was blind faith, but as an American, I chose to overlook what I disagreed with in the hopes that things would get better. My ex retired from the Air Force after twenty years of service.

Because I am old-school, I am mortified at the media’s slaying of our current POTUS. I am surprised at the level of hate for this guy. Is he rogue? Probably. Is he making things happen? Yes, yes he is.

Facebook, on the other hand? No such respect. I get if you don’t like the POTUS, but personal attacks? That just sucks. When second term Obama supporters were online touting how amazing he was, they were not being executed on social media by their hard right friends. Just the opposite. We sat back on our haunches and let our friends have their say. (And for the record? I am neither hard right or left. I am just your old-fashioned run-of-the-mill moderate.)

Not so much, now. Let me just put it out there that I, as a moderate, in fact, voted for Donald Trump.

That being said? I am am not anti-Black. I am not anti-Mexican. I am not anti-gay or LGBTQ. I love everyone. I don’t care about your race, sexual preference, or gender-identification. If you screw with me, I’m going to dislike you because of your actions, not because of any group you identify with.

I supervise a department where one employee and I are the only white people. I don’t see it, though. We are family and we all bleed red. I have never seen color. I was raised that way, yet I have been accused of being against blacks because I went to a Trump rally (and that was NOT in my current department, for the record). Yeah. Guess again, folks. I am for Americans and I really don’t give a fat rat’s ass what color you are. Green? Are you American? I have your back. Purple? Same. Brown? Black? Red? Yellow? Blue? Same for all. Colors make a rainbow, and rainbows are beautiful.

Please do not hate me because of who I voted for. I voted for all the colors. I voted for the rainbow, and take that how you will, because I am also pro same-sex marriage, because love is love, no matter the color or gender.

I have also seen sound/video bites of people whe have seriously ditched friends that have “voted wrong.” Seriously? Is there such a thing as “voting wrong” in America? If so, I am obs in the wrong country.

Until next time…

My Challenged Gag-Reflex

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I love giant emojis. Beats an actual image of me, gagging.

I was chatting with a friend of mine who is a nurse that had posted about getting called back to work. I told her that I really appreciate her for what she does. I can’t do it. I tried.

About 15 years ago, I wanted to be involved in patient care so much that I thought that I would make a great nurse. I’m a nurturer and care-giver by nature, so I had initially thought that nursing would be a good job fit. I went back to school, got a 4.0 GPA in all the core courses. I stopped just short of the Anatomy & Physiology course because it became glaringly obvious that my gag-reflex is weak. I’m talking REALLY weak. Weak gag-reflex does not a good nursing student make.

Hell, I can’t even cut up a raw chicken without heaving over the sink. What made me think I could deal with torn HUMAN flesh is beyond me.

I have been pooped on, peed on and thrown up on by my human kids and never even broke a sweat. Figured, after that? I could deal. NOT! Let one of my fur kids barf on the floor and I am done; gagging and sweating to the point that J shoo’s me out of the room and just handles it.

The absolute turning point for me was phlegm.

Several years back, when I still saw my ADN as a reality, I was shadowing an employee who was working in Environmental Services. I was writing her annual evaluation, and needed to see her job performance in that department. We were assigned to ICU. I was fine most of the morning, cleaning rooms with and without patients. Then we got to THAT room.

It had one of those suction canisters in the wall. It did me in, and badly! In said canister was the king of all lung cookies. 🤢 I was done. Totally done. I’d never even CONSIDERED hockers to be a part of nursing. Let’s just say that was the final nail in the nursing coffin.

Fast-forward to last month while I was training to move patients. I went up to Dialysis with one of my second shift guys, D, to bring an ED admission to his room. Our patient had come up by stretcher, so it was an easy transport. We got him to his room. He was ambulatory, so he was able to walk with assistance from the stretcher to his bed. D and I got the patient up, and caught a whiff of what inititially smelled like stale cigarette smoke. The two of us got him into the room and that is when the poo-smell hit us like a shovel to the side of the head. We got him onto the bed, and God bless him, he started cussing up a blue streak! His ¥€^+  &$*# colostomy bag had broken.

He was pretty much mortified, and I was doing all I could to not visibly gag. D, my partner, thankfully, did all the talking while yours truly did a lot of nodding and swallowing. Somehow both of us made it out of there without anyone being more embarrassed than some of us already were.

Another shining example of my lack of cast iron stomach happened just last week, here at the house. Now, don’t judge us. Seriously.

Plenty of people have stuck things in their ovens to get them out of the way and then completely forgotten about them until they pre-heated the oven the next time. I had a friend that lost some plastic bowls that way.

That said, we pre-heated the oven to 350 to bake potatoes. I figured I’d put them in before the oven was totally pre-heated, because they were massive and would take forever.

OMG! There was the pizza pan with the remnants of pieces-parts of the chicken we’d had the week prior. We’d carved the bird and put the carcass back on the pan we ‘d brought it in from the grill on and had to run out after dinner. We put the pan in the oven to keep our big dog, Petey, from snatching it off of the stove top while we were gone, because chicken bones+canine=a probable trip to the vet. So because we are both a little ADD, we forgot about it, and out of sight is out of mind. Right?

Let’s just say that the odor of what was left, when I pulled it out of the oven left a taste in my mouth that probably will not be forgotten for a while.

What makes you gag? Have you ever stuck something in the oven and forgotten about it? Share, please, so I don’t feel like a total freak of nature!

Until next time….

End of Week Wrap-Up

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That pretty much sums up Valentine’s Day ’17.

Because I am too lazy to actually get up and go sit in front of the computer, I am blogging from my tablet in the gas-heated pool house. Now, before you think we hit the jackpot, let me just say it is a propane tank with a heater unit attached, lol!

After posting Monday evening’s blog, I went to bed shortly thereafter, all excited at the prospect of a normal V-Day, for a change.

I woke up Tuesday morning with a nasty headache and wicked sore throat. I went on in to the office, only to be sent home after seeing the nice folks at Employee Health, after having a throat culture done. *gag*

No strep, thankfully, but had a virus that kept me out of work for three days. Because Valentine’s Day. 🤧

That aside, I went back to work this morning to knock out my operating budget. Because I changed departments, I had to add a new line item for my salary. For this, I needed a job code. My last one was SS-something or other. My new one would be CT-something. I called HR and found out my new job description hasn’t been done, which means the job code and title aren’t there, either. 😂 I’m title-less!

One of my team, I found out, has won this month’s Heart of the Hospital award! This means a picture of him holding the coveted glass heart, framed and hanging in the cafeteria. It means said pic on the electronic billboard on the main drag. It is a write-up in the weekly newsletter. He is going to wear his burgundy scrub top to represent. Now, you have to understand that this team always felt like red-headed step-kids at our facility. Oxygen canisters in the wrong place? Blame burgundy. Stretcher linens not bagged right? Blame burgundy. Tank holders on top of soiled linen carts? Blame burgundy. This month? Going above and beyond, helping everyone he sees? Compassionate and polite? That’s right! BLAME BURGUNDY, because that is how we roll!

Along about quitting time, some of the girls and I were talking about growing up and staying in the same town. I, of course, know nothing about this. This lead to a conversation about the clothing styles from back in the day. I have asked everyone who can put their hands on a yearbook to bring one in, next week. Not only will it be cool to see what everyone looked like back in the day, I think, too, that it will be fun to see the styles from the different generations. A few of us graduated in 82-83, a few before, and most after.

This should be a really fun way to get to know each other a little bit better. The teams that play together, stay together. Or at least will have a good time laughing at each other’s pictures and reminiscing about the old days.

Until next time…