Ninapintasantamaria's Blog











{March 23, 2010}   My MIL called today.

I didn’t answer. My husband had already warned me about what she wanted. He has to work tomorrow and that left us without a baby-sitter temporarily. She basically laid herself out at his feet and begged to watch the baby. She would come to our house, she would bring [fill-in-the-blank], she had my stepson with her but would take care of any issues we had with him being there without us. Luckily for him, his knows-where-his-bread-is-buttered ass told her he’d have to discuss it with me. I don’t think so. I think I’ve mentioned here before about how likely elephants are to do the two-step before she keeps my baby unsupervised. Quite frankly, I’m afraid that should she get a wild hair up her ass and get angry with me for some reason, she might just try to take my child from me. While her home is the lesser of two evils for my stepson, she still was sneaky and conniving about the whole thing, and she basically took him from the Manbearpig (Ex-Bitch). I realize I’m 84 times the mother the Manbearpig is, but I wouldn’t put it past my MIL to fabricate as a means to an end. My husband can trust her all he wants. I don’t, and am highly unlikely to anytime in the next millenium. She just showed up anyway. *beleaguered sigh* My husband told me that’s what I get for not answering my phone. I told him he needed to handle his own mother. I told him that she needed to communicate with him, and if something needed to be run by me, he could do the running. I also told him that if he continued to push the issue, I’d have to get real honest with her about my trust issues, and I didn’t think he wanted that. Our regular baby-sitter is a saint, and called back earlier today with a favorable answer to our request. My offspring has progressed to holding things! And eating some rice cereal. He hasn’t quite mastered the grasping aspect of holding, but he understands the squeezing/taste-testing method. He’s brilliant. I knew it. My best friend called this week and asked if we were planning on having any more kids. I told her I’d like to get a full night’s sleep before making such a big decision.

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{July 27, 2009}   So much to do…

So little time. I swept and mopped, loaded the dishwasher and finished the laundry. I still need to vacuum and generally straighten up. There’s garbage that needs taking out, but the YCU is responsible for that. I’m tired of clutter and general junk laying everywhere, but I don’t have places to put everything. Which is asinine, because it’s not like I don’t have a full basement that is half empty. Is this the nesting syndrome taking effect? I’m really restraining myself from calling my aunt and mother to come help me clean up and make this house munchkin-ready. Which is also asinine, because I have approximately 21 weeks to go. Like we won’t completely funk up this house again by then. We’re only saved from slobbiness by the fact that I go around every so often and collect the socks, shoes, yarn, clothes, papers and packaging that litters our life here. I can’t wait for the little one to get big enough to help. Hell yeah! I can make him help, I haven’t figured out the magic words to get the YCU to get off his butt and help yet. Well, I must depart, as I’m holding a demonstration for domestic engineering this afternoon. Contact me for course schedules. (No one’s signed up yet. Possibly, my domestic engineer needs firing.)



{June 30, 2009}   Rules

My husband tends to be one of those people who point fingers and say “But they were doing it too”. Or he lives in denial and thinks nothing’s ever going to happen to him, or he won’t get caught. Hence, we have many prior transgressions, be they on the road or at work, or here at home. That could all have been avoided. So, today, I finally put my foot down. I told him that if he got pulled over for not wearing his seat belt, I would divorce him! I’m tired of avoidable mishaps. After this week, I think he believed me. Heh. *evil grin peeking out*



{June 1, 2009}   Biggie Smalls

This is what he’s taken to calling me now, with a shit-eatin’ grin on his face.  He informed me this morning that he’s a chubby-chaser now.  Yes, the YCU.  What a pig.  (As I throw something at him and threaten to send him to live with his mama, laughing all the way.)  I’m still not showing, really.  I can tell, but no one else can.  He has informed me that I’m not to blow up like a balloon.  Not that I wanted to.  Let’s just see how much weight he gains alongside, shall we?

I called him ‘Hairy Assholio’ this morning, so maybe we’re even.



{May 27, 2009}   Anonymity

I knew it wouldn’t last.  Apparently, someone who reads my blog shares a forum site with my YCU and I’m not sure if they thought they were tattling or not but, they mentioned that they thought they knew me.  As I’ve mentioned before, I’ve complained to my husband about everything I’ve said here millions of frustrating times before, with no improvement.  Tattling deferred.  I’m not shy, and I’m a horribly open individual.  My husband’s friends like to spend too much time here and I’ve threatened before to eat cereal and walk around nekkid due to their obvious plan to pay rent soon.  They left.  I lost my sense of personal embarrassment long ago, being a nurse.  Pretty much whatever I think comes out of my mouth and I’ve learned to take pride in that.  Can be a blessing or a curse, depending on your perspective.  Enjoy your time here.



{May 21, 2009}   Ok, so yesterday…

we had a team meeting, and it was just mainly going over the best ways to practice current policies.  Ok.  My manager had come to me a few weeks ago and requested improvement in one area, so I did.  Now, she’s not worked with me since, so she’s not seen the improvement, but I believe in practicing the performance, so to speak.  During this meeting someone (a surgical tech, who I am in charge of , and resents it) brought up that some of the nurses don’t seem to take a certain procedure “seriously.”  And (as she was looking at me) “some of them talk so fast, there is just no way to keep up.”  Well, the girl sitting next to her pointed at me and nodded, in front of everyone.  Oh, yeah.  I was furious.  This same girl (the pointer) has turned me in for dumb shit before and gotten me written up, so I feel like I’m on thin ice already.  I’m not a bad nurse, I do my damndest every day to make sure everyone does what they’re supposed to and that the patients are taken care of.  What a bitch.  You’ll all be proud to know that the 1st thing to come into my head (I can’t help it if your stupid little countrified bitch ass is used to only listening to stupid slow people with no teeth!  I don’t have 45 minutes to pander to your delicate sensitivities!  Pay attention, moron!!) did NOT come out of my mouth.  At least, not until later, and not in front of that person.  However, I don’t need this.  I do not need this stress right now.  I paranoid enough as it is.  And another thing, how dare she do something like that in front of people?  If she really didn’t understand what was going on, why didn’t she just stop and ask?  She’s trying to get me fired, and it’s not gonna happen.  I went to talk to my supervisor, who witnessed the whole thing, and told her that I was pissed the fuck off.  I also expressed my fears and paranoia, which I probably shouldn’t have, but she did reassure me somewhat, that she would come and evaluate the situation.  I realize I’m a four-alarm fire with a cannon on the front of my face and the energy to match, but damn!  I’m not speaking Spanish!!  Or portuguese, or french, for that matter!  Her inability to pay attention is not my problem, and I said so, to my boss.  If people only gave me credit for the things I manage to hold in, I’d be up for damned sainthood!  And the people at work would probably think I had an anger disorder, or something equally stupid.  I don’t, I just don’t have any patience for people who can’t think outside the box to get things done, but try to tell me I’m stupid for doing so.  (coughHUSBANDcough and others)  So, later in the afternoon, I was going through the procedure and everyone was talking, and not paying attention, so in my best projectile vocal tone, I hollered over everybody “HEY HEY HEY!!!  Everybody paying attention, now?  Good.  Time out….”  And trust me, I can project.  Remember I told you I used to sing in the choir before I realized I couldn’t sing?  (Think Barney Fyfe.  Yeah, it was that bad.)  Well, they did teach me a few things, and I was loud and obnoxious to begin with.  My mother used to ask me how someone so small could make all that noise.  Hee, HEE HEE!!  The md asked me why I was so grumpy, and I told him “Because they said we had to be.  Have to make sure everyone is paying attention.”  Humph.  Fixed that wagon.



{April 30, 2009}   Oh, no.

My search terms today included the phrase “Hubby wants his friend to get me pregnant.”  Why, so he can watch?  And another thing.  Did I ever post about such a subject?  I think not.  My husband has a friend that wants to get me pregnant, but he’s a pig, and a flirt, and that’s just gross.  I laughed at him when he tried to hit on me.  What a moron.  Totally barking up the wrong tree.  I’ve told my hubby about it, and he said that he wasn’t going to do anything about it cause I was more than capable of handling things myself.  And he wanted to watch what happened.  He would be correct.  I am more than capable of handling him myself.  Anyway, I digress.  I really don’t think I’ve ever mentioned such a subject here.  Or anywhere, for that matter.  How funny.  Poor girl.  I hope she slapped her husband.  He deserved it.           Next subject.  My scans are in 2 weeks, and I’m terrified.  I’m also obsessive-compulsive and a worry-wart, and completely un-justified in my terror.  Please someone slap me before I lose my mind.  Thank you.



{April 20, 2009}   Still nothing.

Yep.  I.  HATE.  MY.  UTERUS!  I hate my ovaries, I hate my cervix, I hate my breasts, I hate everything that makes me female right now.  Except for my tootie, it does sometimes have it’s good points.  😉     Anyway, finally got the YCU to see reason with the furniture.  Exchanged the ottoman for a smaller one, put the chair in the corner where it belongs, and ordered new end-tables.  Of course, it took a friend telling him the very same damn thing I told him, which made everyone present howl with laughter, except, of course, the YCU.  Heh.  I think that means……(Ooh!  Ooh!  Let me tell it!)  I.  Was.  RIGHT!  Which I usually am, of course, but no one seems to want to admit that until I either make them look like a jackass, or get really, really loud and embarrass them in front of their friends.  I haven’t found the magic button that makes them listen to reason in a calm and open-minded manner, yet.  I can’t seem to get past stubborn, pig-headed, and childish.  *sighs*  After he heard from the friend and the friend had the same idea I had, he let it sit for a day in the “Makes No Sense” pattern, and then told me to go ahead and move the chair, he wanted to prop up on the ottoman.  I’m not kidding.  AAAAARRRRRRSSEEEE!  Why must he be so difficult?  Why can’t he just see what I’m trying to tell him without the stubborn idiocy that seems to accompany him everywhere?  I sort of understand, because his foot was broken, but I strongly suspect that he’s only playing that card when he wants to get out of doing something.  I’m so tired of him acting like this.  What an ass.  Stubborn, pig-headed, childish, obnoxious, self-absorbed, childish ass.  And the bitch of the whole thing is that he thinks I’m crazy.  I think he’s manipulative in his own right sometimes.  I tend to make decisions and come to conclusions in seconds, whereas it takes him forever to decide anything.  He’s one of these people who has to study on it.  Even after I’ve already shown him where he’s going to end up.  I’ve learned that he doesn’t want me to show him, he wants to figure it out on his own, or he gets very grouchy.  Ok, so I offer suggestions to help get him there faster and still make him think he’s figuring it out on his own.  You know, “The man is the head of the house, but the woman is the neck.  And the neck can turn the head, any way it wants.”  Yeah.  My neck is suffering from cervical radiculopathy.  (Quite literally a pain in the neck.)  I’m trying to turn the head where it should go, but the head is insisting it’s right and won’t listen to reason!  I have no patience with this.  Don’t be an ass, see reason, and admit to someone else having an intelligent thought for once, and your life that you complain about all the time wouldn’t be so hard.  I’ve always had trouble understanding that.  I realize I’m opinionated and sometimes people just don’t care.  Fine.  But when I’m opinionated and right, can’t you just concede the point?  Why do I have to get frustrated and cry and get my feelings hurt when I’m right, you should have done fill in the blank, and listened to me?  I’ve never been one of those girls that acted dumb to get a boy’s attention.  I’ve also never been one to keep my mouth shut when the boy acted dumb.  Apparently, this makes me bitchy and hard to live with.  There’s usually a lot of eye-rolling involved, until someone figures out that they’ve wasted a lot of time, and if  they’d just listened to me in the first place, we wouldn’t have shaved an hour off our lives for no reason.  This caused me no end of irritation in high school, cause I didn’t have very many boyfriends.  I scared them off, so I was told.  I’ve been told so many times that that’s just men, and we just have to get used to it.  Why?  I don’t want to be alone, and I love my husband very much, don’t misunderstand me.  There’s a lot of things I can’t do by myself.  Nor do I want to try.  I just don’t understand why I’m the one who gets ignored, then has to deal with the irritation and anger when their “brilliant idea” didn’t work, and they had to resort to mine anyway.  I can’t help but point out that if they’d listen to me next time, (or at least consider my idea, and if it won’t work, have a good explanation as to why) we’d save time, and not argue, and (oh my!) learn from the situation so it doesn’t happen again, but it keeps happening, and keeps happening, and keeps….lather, rinse, repeat.  I even try to explain that I just don’t want it to happen again.  I get completely ignored this time, as his quota for “helping” him is up.  I just can’t stand to watch someone struggle with something that could so easily be fixed, except that they’re too stubborn and proud to accept help from a girl.  A “thank you, I should have listened to you in the first place” would be nice once in a while.  A team has no place for an ego problem, folks.  I just don’t get it.



{April 2, 2009}   Dr R.

Remember I told you about my forays into the specimen riddled world of thoracic surgery?  Well.  Yesterday, I was in there again and, as usual, Dr R was in a pissy mood.  He kept throwing off specimens right and left to be sent to pathology.  Now, I know how to do this, backward and forward, but he leaves out key information as a matter of routine.  I then have to ask him to clarify, and then he gets pissier.  Lather, rinse, repeat, every week, twice a week.  Yesterday, instead of just answering my questions appropriately albeit impatiently, he turned to me and said “Just like always, Nina, just like always.  I always send these the same way every time!  Why do you keep bothering me?”  Oh heeeeyyyelll no.  That sonovabitch is NOT talking to ME that way!  Now.  You all know about my lack of filter, and my tolerance level to being spoken to like I’m stupid.  Hmmm…..didn’t bode well for him, you think?  You would be right!  I’d already heard about how he was rude in the same manner to his other circulator in his other room (He gets 2 rooms every day, since he brings so many cases.  It speeds up the process, and gets him home by 5pm instead of 12 midnight.) and had told her not to let him talk that way to her!  I’d had enough.  I caught him in the hallway and laid into him.  Chewing his ass in front of God and everybody.  What follows is a transcript of our conversation:

Me:  Dr R, may I borrow you briefly?

Him: Yes?  (Eyes open expectantly, as though this were a dinner invitation.)

Me:  Look, I’m not stupid, and it is NOT my 1st day!  DO not talk to me like that.  You DON’T  always do the same thing, and I can’t assume from one day to the next what you’re thinking.  I’m not a mind reader.  We have to ask these questions to make sure you don’t have a wild hair up your ass today!

Him:  (Backing up, as I’m directly in his face at decibel levels only slightly lower than a shuttle explosion, finger pointing away)  Well, I’m sorry, but I get frustrated that y’all are asking questions that you already know the answers to!  My job is hard.  I don’t want you to assume every day…

Me: (Interrupting, at this point, as he’s about to say something REALLY stupid) I know your job is hard!  I’m not belittling that!  But I can’t assume you want this each and every time, because sometimes you send frozen specimens, and sometimes you want permanent!  Sometimes you want cultures, and sometimes you don’t!  Sometimes you want the blue tissue stapler and sometimes you want green!  We can’t assume one day, and not assume the next.  We have to clarify!  Irene and I work very hard to take care of you and get you what you want and need every day!  We do NOT deserve to be talked to like that!!  And, speaking of Irene, she’s been your circulator for 6 years!  I’ve only been here 3!  If she has to still ask questions, I’m damn sure gonna have to!  I’m not having it.  I refuse.

Him:  I’m sorry.  I’m concentrating and getting questions from the field, and out there too, and the phone’s ringing, and the pager’s going off, and it just gets distracting.  I think you and Irene do a very good job.

Me:  Thank you.  I appreciate that.  However, you rarely treat us like we do.

Him:  Well, I’ll try to be more flexible, but try to keep the questions to a minimum?

Me:  Certainly.  Thank you.

And that’s how it’s done.  There, now, that was easy, don’t you think?



{March 25, 2009}   Husband got jealous

The old boyfriend emailed me to catch up,right?  Well, I told YCU about it, and he got all bent out of shape.  “I’ve heard more about him in the last couple of days.”  I told him to grow up.  We dated for 2 weeks 15 years ago and broke up cause I wasn’t ready for the fast lane.  No, not that, drinking and other stuff.  I told you, he was nice!  And I was 15!  Besides, if he was a millionaire and had invented the Iphone or something, I could see getting all scared, but he’s not.  We’re too old for that shit. And this ain’t Days of Our Lives.   (Cue Hank, Jr singing “This ain’t Dallas, this ain’t Dynasty….)  Anyway, I found the whole thing amusing.  If I wanted a boyfriend, I could go out and get one.  Tomorrow.  But, that would take interest, and a lot of trouble that I don’t need or want.  I’ve always told him that I could barely deal with him, why in the hell would I want 2?

In other news, I’m still feeling better.  I’m glad to be taking a break from the pressure.  I didn’t realize it was pressure at the time, but it was.  One of the girls I work with called me to check on me, since part of my nervous breakdown commenced there, and as usual, I felt stupid after it was all over.  I’ve got to get better control over the temper emotion.  We all know I’ve never had much of a filter.  Going to have to construct one with baling twine and sheet metal, I guess.



et cetera