Ninapintasantamaria's Blog











{December 22, 2010}   On taking oneself too seriously…

Today, I walked to the anesthesia workroom and asked two young ladies there for an item that lived there, I just didn’t know where. Apparently, they were CRNA students. The response I got was “We’re not anesthesia techs.” Ooooo-kay, could you tell me where it is and I’ll just get it myself? I mean, really? What, pray tell, does that have to do with the price of tea in China? What, you’re too good to help me find something, or just hand it to me since you most likely still know where it is, despite your deficiency in manners?

Anyway.

This week, I was asking one of the surgeons about his daughters, how they were doing, what schools they’d been accepted to, and whatnot. He told me, and I asked if it would be for a volleyball scholarship and he stated “No, I pay the school, and she can play on the team if she wants.” Gotta love those politics. So I made the comment that all that grace and coordination stuff had passed me by, and I had to settle for just being a smart kid! To this, he responded: *sigh* “That just means that if you were single, and I were single, I’d have to pass on you, because I just couldn’t dilute my gene pool with someone who wasn’t an athlete.” True story. Straight-faced and everything! He meant it! His general rhetoric is all about how he’s amazing, his wife’s gorgeous, his girls are wonderful, and they’re all better than you, etc, etc. It was funny. I mean, seriously? As if I was offering! Another surgeon today told me that if I was ever to become husband-less, I would need to change my ways if I hoped to ever have another one. Wow. Really? Because I stand up for myself and have expectations that he behave like a grown-up? This makes me an Undesirable? Really? Boys are stupid. I said it in high school a lot, which is probably why I didn’t have a lot of dates, but it really is true. *sigh*

My MIL has invited herself, her husband, and my stepson over TO MY HOUSE for Christmas morning. To cook in my kitchen. And my husband has to go to work at 1pm. And I have to grin and bear it. Wahoo. Would you all mind pooling your resources to bail me out? Great.

Earlier this week, my husband called me at work and was angry that I’d forgotten to bring the diaper bag in from my car. Oops, sorry hon. I told him he could come pick it up, then go to his event. To which he responded “I’m not driving all the way down there for that.” People, it’s a 15 min drive to my work. Yes, really. I know. But I called him back, and reminded him that there was a bigger bag in our closet, he could throw some diapers, wipes, and clothes in that, and still go wherever it was he needed to go. He didn’t want to do that either, because I should have just remembered, etc, etc. I hit the roof. Over the phone, at work. There were witnesses to my disgrace. They laughed. So, I said. What you’re telling me, is that you’re not really that motivated to go anywhere, because you’ve turned down two perfectly viable options. You just wanted to call here and bitch at me because you had nothing better to do. Damn it, fix the problem, grow some problem solving skills, and don’t bother me with stupid shit like that! I don’t have time to deal with it, and if I’d been the one stranded, I’d have gotten my happy ass in my car, driven to wherever you were, retrieved the bag, and been on my merry way without bothering him in the least! Small child! ARRRRRRRRRRGH!

Fletcher has learned to climb on his new toy box and take down all his books! As we speak, I’m trying to figure out how to attach a rock to his head so he doesn’t grow up. I’ll let you know what I come up with.

I started an IV yesterday. IN ONE STICK. I’ve not started an IV in at least 5 years. Someone please jump up and down for me and clap, before I explode and just start tooting my own horn! Loudly! I’m only pleased as punch, a little bit. Just a little bit. Like ridin’ a bike, baby! (Oh, yes, I am a nurse and all, but anesthesia usually does that for us in the holding room, so it kind of eliminates it from our job description. This CRNA needed an extra pair of hands, and mine were the only ones available.)

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Hootie says:

YAY!! on the IV thing with only one stick! Believe me, if they could master that skill at the blood bank I’d donate a whole lot more often (and have less festive looking arms). With respect to the diaper bag story, been there, done that. You gotta wonder what part of “honor and cherish” in the marriage vows guys are following when they intentionally make your lot in life harder rather than easier. We need honorable men that we can look up to, we DO want them to be our heroes. It just hurts and feels defeating when they don’t even try–and this is after every waking hour of our lives are spent on trying to satisfy their every want and need! I feel for ya, Nina!



Quiet Dreams says:

Those doctors you’re around are some real pieces of work!



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