Nina’s Thotful Spot

That’s what I should have named this blog. Anyway. I gotta get together a go-bag for the hospital stay. Clothes for me, clothes for the Jumping Bean, Diapers, wipes (for the trip home, in case we have to stop anywhere), toiletries in miniature(?), hairbrush, blow dryer (I’m not buying a new one, will just have to try to remember on the way, otherwise will be using the drip-dry method), house shoes (I never wear them at home, but seriously? You don’t want to walk around a hospital in bare feet or even just socks. And you look really stupid wearing your tennies with your bathrobe.) pj’s, and I don’t even know what all else. Pads! Will be needing those, no? And don’t I need to pack the boppy and diaper bag? Hand sanitizer for when the family comes to call? I’m never going anywhere again that it won’t look like I’m moving.

In other news, the house is swept, mopped, dusted, guest bathroom cleaned (courtesy of the roommate), I just need to vacuum, and get the rest of the clothes put away and hung up. I feel soooo much better with a clean house. This is going to cause a problem postpartum, isn’t it. Hmmm. Mom and Aunt are coming for a week (combined, not consecutive, although that doesn’t sound half bad now you mention it) so hopefully it won’t be too bad for a little bit. Oh sleep, wherefore art thou? Maybe I’m practicing for later, ya think?

All dressed up…

and nowhere to go. I’m blogging away heartburn again. I hope I’m not one of those who has to have my gallbladder out. Ugh. It’s not like I don’t know any good surgeons, but ugh. Woke up cramping and immediately my brain goes into overdrive. “OMG. What if…. Wait, how long was that? Could it just be gas?” Yeah. I’m neurotic. I even felt him kick while this was going on. Now. I know he wouldn’t be kicking and rolling around like a cat in a bag if he was in some sort of distress. He was just ‘smushed’. And now that we’ve ‘evacuated’, the heartburn’s almost gone. Course, I’m not sure if this was from that or the zan.tac I took. I don’t know, and I don’t care. I just want sleep.

Update: HB went away, I was able to return to the woodpile, and slept in till 10amish. Now, I have to clean up after the boys who seem tho think that clean smells like grease, trash, and cars. *sigh* Someone once told me that there’s “A Man’s Idea of Clean”, “A Woman’s Idea of Clean”, and “Sterile”. He said there’s not much difference in the last two. I’m beginning to agree with him. This was a doctor I worked with long ago. He was a pretty smart guy. I just wish I had some help. Shall have to commandeer the roommate and threaten his lodgings.

Victory is mine…

I think. I talked to the assistant director of the department today. I brought up the low morale, the abusive doctors, the cement cases, and the inappropriate comments made by the supervisors and staff regarding my pregnancy and job requirements. I just kinda vented in general. She agreed that the comments were inappropriate, and she said that she would speak to the charge nurses. She also saw my logic on the patient abandonment issue, and said that it made sense to have the other nurse come in at the start of the case, instead of having her drive 30 minutes to stand in a case for 20 or less. Why she didn’t see that on Saturday, I’m not sure, but whatever. She also agreed with me that morale was low, we feel like we don’t have any backup with the surgeons when asked for inappropriate actions, and we feel that surgeons’ misbehavior is handled on a case-by-case basis instead of a blanket ruling, which would be the fairest way to handle it. She agreed that it would be beneficial to have the Chief Medical Officer (a.k.a. Surgeon Babysitter) to come and speak to us regarding these behaviors and explain our options, and they would make that happen. Then she apologized for making me feel pressured on Sunday over the whole situation. We’ll see if any of it comes to pass.
I was a bit emotional today at work. I was getting frustrated easily, and irritated even easier. I worked with the scrub nurse this morning that closely resembles my husband in personality and behavior, and found myself responding with the same level of impatience that I get at home. This is not good. Sometimes it’s funny, but when my window-screening filter opens up to chicken wire, sometimes things come out that shouldn’t. Normally when I’m at work, I try to behave like I’ve been taught some manners. At home, I become an inbred hillbilly with knife skills when baited and irritated. I don’t have time for that shit. Tell me what I want to know, answer the question I asked you, not what you think I want to hear, and don’t hem and haw around, dammit, make a decision! If you don’t, I’ll make one, and you probably won’t like it. I’m kinda like Weezer in Steel Magnolias. “I’m pleasant!! I saw Drum Eatonton at the grocery store, and I smiled at the sonovabitch before I could help myself!!”

Country as Cornbread

I had a patient tell me that I was country as cornbread today. I found this highly amusing. I realize I have an extremely southern accent, but that was just funny. He had notes all in his chart telling everyone not to give information to an ex even if she had the passcode. I had to ask if there was someone specific I could ask for in the event we needed to talk to his family. He told me to ask for “Red”. Ok. He then told me she was his new lady friend, and that he was bad with names and didn’t know her first name. Wow. Then he told me he didn’t want a catheter. I tried to explain that he may have to have one during surgery, but that we would insert it after he was under anesthesia and he wouldn’t feel a thing. His response? “Poor little guy!” I told him we’d take good care of it, don’t worry. Seriously? Come on. The guy has lung cancer and all he’s worried about is his wee-wee? Oh, and he was unemployed. And had all these women after him? What the hell. But I was country.

In other news, I’m really, really tired of having the argument over having to go into cases involving bone cement. I got sent home early today cause all the cases left were arthroplasties. Total knee, bipolar hip, radial head arthroplasties. All of these cases involve bone cement. Now, they’re trying to argue that other people are circulating those cases, and just stepping out of the room when the bone cement is being used. Well, that’s great, in the daytime when there’s other staff to back them up in case of an emergency. At night and on the weekend? We’re it. Sometimes after the bone cement is inserted, the patient can have an air or a fat embolism. This causes them to go into cardiac arrest. CPR, crash cart, code blue, the works. Well, should this happen, and I’ve stepped out of the room, I can’t come back in the room due to the fumes, and now I’ve abandoned my patient. Dangerous and stupid, to my way of thinking. But, apparently, if the nurse being sent to relieve the preggo employee bitches, then the preggo is just gonna have to tough it out. This pisses me off. I’ve tried so hard to be accommodating, wear the lead (which is really heavy) in the C-Arm/X-ray cases, worked extra, covered shifts, and tried not to be a burden. I just don’t understand why they are trying to push the issue. I think it is obvious that I want to work. I’m not trying to get out of it. I’m trying to keep my child safe, and their words to me? “Well, how much of the job requirements can you be expected to fulfill and still retain a position?” I told them that I felt I’d more than fulfilled my job requirements. They can’t discriminate against me because I’m pregnant, can they? Seriously, either the pregnant girls need to be exempted from call altogether, exempted from those cases altogether, or everyone needs to understand that they may have to back them up, should such a case come in. I just don’t understand why they can’t just say, pregnant employees are exempt from those cases. End of discussion. I understand that they can’t keep me on the payroll if I can’t do the remaining cases, and they had to send me home today. Please don’t get me wrong. I just don’t understand why I had to have the discussion at all.

My 2nd 2-week appointment

went great! His FHR was 144bpm, and he’s head down, measuring 31.5 weeks! He’s still perfect. *sigh* I’d like to be funny and say that of course he is, he’s mine, but….well, you know. I’ve decided not to study equine dentistry. I’m just gonna be grateful. I can’t wait to meet him.

What an ass….

Today, I was in the same Dr’s room that hollered at me for not running the x-ray machine a few weeks ago. Somehow, he got on the subject of Postpartum Depression. In his opinion, it’s not a medical diagnosis, but purely a legal defense for the crazies who drown their children and shoot their husbands. His words, not mine. Then he went into how the whole world changes for men just like it does for women, so why are women so depressed? Well, the men don’t have hormones surging like crazy, and the men aren’t solely responsible for feeding and nurturing the little munchkin. The men didn’t just “squeeze something the size of a watermelon out of a hole the size of a lemon”, to quote a well known movie. The men aren’t defined by their ability, or lack thereof, to give birth, and the men aren’t subjected to jokes about *ahem* anatomy changes postpartum of which there’s always underlying tension/apprehension on both parts about how their sex life is going to change. The men aren’t defined by their ability to lose weight after delivery, and thereby return to perfect status. I know some girls start out behind the 8-ball on that one, but you know what I mean. Why is there so much emphasis on this anyway? Why can’t the men see that it’s more important to help out and keep baby healthy and happy? I managed to hold all of this in, (aren’t y’all proud?) and just said “Well, knowing how ppd affected me, I would never tell a woman that her feelings didn’t exist and it was all in her head. I realize that my situation magnified it to volcano size, but just because ppd affected me that way, doesn’t make those women any less entitled to their feelings.” He started to argue, but I think he realized he was going to lose. I can’t believe that someone who saves lives and heals people for a living could make such an uncaring, insensitive, crass statement. Actually, he’s probably only in it for the money. He makes a lot of it.

Aaaaaand coming to you live at 0230 am for an update: I’m currently up late blogging because if I lay down, my esophagus just might erode away. Yep, he’s apparently laying on my stomach, because as someone who’s never experienced heartburn/indigestion in her life, I’m now whining. And unable to sleep due to these symptoms. I’ve taken zan.tac, and am not so patiently waiting for it to work. Seriously. Never in her life. I’ve always prided myself on having an iron stomach. I guess there’s exceptions for everything. And I’m still a little pissed at Dr. L. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve known he’s a ass ever since I first met him, like 5 years ago, or something. I just didn’t know it was to this extent.

My 1st Baby Shower

…was awesome!!! I got sooo much stuff. My family is great. My dad gave me so much. My SIL gave me a huge bag full of clothes (hand-me-downs from my nephew), and I more fun going through that. I got lots of cute clothes, boppy pillow, diaper bag (which, incidentally, is the same as my SIL’s), Dad and New One gave me a beautiful embroidered blanket, and a bumper pad set with extra crib sheets. I got lots of onesies and receiving blankets, rattles, socks, just everything. I’m so excited!! I’ve got 2 more in the next few weeks. I’m having so much fun.

My offspring apparently thinks it’s funny to drop-kick my bladder. I’m perfectly still, and he’s doing somersaults. He’s using my ribs for monkey bars, I’m convinced of it. Just this week, it’s gotten hard to bend over! It’s getting quite amusing. The people at work are fascinated with my belly. I think I’ll call it Belly Watch ’09. Soon they’ll start a pool to see when I deliver.

Well, to catch everyone up.

Well, I didn’t get the job, because they’d closed the interviews. But all is not lost. They’re doing a lot of re-structuring in the next year or so, so maybe I can apply for board-runner(charge nurse) or coordinator for some other service. Today is my 1st baby shower, so I’ll be leaving to go to that soon! I’ll update with pictures later. I’m officially vaccinated for the flu and H1N1. It was that or have to wear a mask at all times (while I’m at work) for the next 6 months. I can’t breathe unless the temperature’s cool in those masks, so no. I’ll just get the shot. Just working and watching my belly dance! Yes, he’s all over the place. People at work are fascinated by my belly. I don’t mind if people touch my belly, just please ask me first! I wanted to go hose off in bleach after one of the doctors touched me one day. No news on the Jackass Dr that hollered at me. They may not be allowed to tell me, but as I am directly involved, I wish they would. YCU found a job working nights, but it may work out that I won’t have to rely on the SIL as much as I thought. She’s great. If anything ever happens between my brother and her, I’m keeping her and sending him back to Costa Rica (where she’s from)! She totally makes up for my MIL who’s just crazy. The job he found doesn’t make much money, but it’ll take care of his child support and help out a little bit, and I can take call and work a little extra here and there to make up the difference. So, in other words, I’m feeling better about our financial state. I’m surprisingly not as stressed out this week. I think it was just a culmination of everything at once that was making me neurotic. Yes, I’m much more zen this week. I’ll take that.

Okay, so that was weird…

I just got an email from the nurse recruiter down in HR where I work. I’d applied for a coordinator position, and just figured I better be thorough. I’m nothing if not efficient. So I get this email saying that I have to submit my resume and fill out a transfer request. Now. I work in the same department. It will simply be a promotion. If I’m even considered for it. They may decide that I don’t have the experience necessary, which I would understand, but they all started somewhere, right? Anyway, so I just replied asking if I needed to fill out the transfer since it was in the same department. I’m thinking she didn’t read the thing all the way through, what do you think?

In other news, Jumping Bean has been living up to his nickname all day long. I sit, I stand, I walk, I squat, I crawl, and he jumps. And kicks. Is he practicing to be the next Bruce Lee, you think? *wondering if swaddling will be at all effective post delivery/trying to get him to sleep time*

Chunk outfits…

Little man clothes!! Aren’t they sweet!