meow...cough cough...

Turns out Grayson didn't have a cough because of his heart. He has some sort of respiratory problem. I have to get his lungs flushed out and the fluid cultured to see where the problem is coming from. So, overall it is good news. He also had very low potassium, so he's on supplements for a while.

Meow!

Pepper hopes you are having a relaxing Sunday!

where, oh where has my little blog gone...

oh where oh where could it be?

etcetera.

Oh, wait. Cool! I see where blogger has added a video option. You go Bloggy boi!

Anyway.

This massive career change has really consumed me hook, line, and sinker... I am realizing self-care isn't just nice, it's survival. This new job is really, really stressful and I have to really practice active relaxation techniques and make sure I eat right, exercise---or, ka-pow!!! But, somehow I love this job more than anything I have ever done...weird.

Anyway (deux).

Gotta take Grayson to the university vet school for an echocardiogram tomorrow morning. He's kitty no. 2 falling into the category of heart failure. Atticus is still going strong, but now Grayson, who has an enlarged aortal arch, is starting to develop a chronic cough and continued tachycardia. I'm afraid we're going to lose a couple of critters this year, which I can't even fathom going through that all over again...

One very interesting proposition I made to my husband the other day-- "You know, I need to really take better care of myself, get this extra weight off I've packed on during graduate school...say, if I get down to 149 pounds, you can book a trip to Paris...*snicker*"

To my surprise, he agreed. I clarified immediately that we were talking about THIS PARIS and not THIS PARIS.

Yep, he said he would walk straight to his computer and book the trip if I got healthy and reached 149. I am currently 181(ugh).

He established the rules of deflabulation:
1) I can't starve myself (or cut off necessary limbs for instant weight reduction).
2) I have to eat right.
3) I have to exercise.

In other words, I have to get healthy the old fashioned way--the only way that works.

This all came about after I had a meltdown after an extremely stressful family session that was quite toxic. I thought I had debriefed enough with a colleague, but au contraire, as I was to find out...after I got home, up came some bubblin' crude...

oil, that is...otherwise known as a stressed-out meltdown.

THUS, Operation Glue Your Shit Back Together was initiated. The payoff is quite nice:
1) lower blood pressure
2) reasonable cholesterol
3) less junk in my trunk
4) and a frickin' trip to France

Damn. I'm feeling downright lucky.

kitties and computers...

and rising...

Smidget says it's friggin' hot...

peanut

sleepyhead...

good morning Peanut...

but I have fun at work, too...

Gosh I hate to leave out the highlights of my career. Like the other day when I was conducting a relaxation group...everyone eyes closed...breathing deeply...then about 20 minutes into the exercise, I hear a couple of gags and open my eyes to a patient puking freely all over the floor...uh, um, continue breathing...uh...uh...

We moved to another room.

And the other day the cleaning crew had the joy of wiping down a poo-smeared bathroom. Now, I don't know what that was about, but I'm glad I didn't walk in on it.

There's never a dull day, and never a day that doesn't keep you human and very humble.

golly I sure do miss some things...

I really do miss my blog. I no longer write for eloquence or wit, but for speed to meet an insurance deadline. I write about symptoms in sentence fragments, instead of worrying with the musical lilt of the words...which, at first, nearly broke me out in a rash.

But I have learned SO much as a beginning therapist. Although we are still fighting short staffing and program changes, I have really gotten an education on a lot of things...on hope, on the tragedy of cognitive decline, on the perils of insurance bullshit, on learning a new lingo and becoming part of the clinical world, on priorities, on self-care, on dignity, respect, and honor.

There have been days when I really felt like I made a difference in a person's life, which is a heady reward for someone who churned out newsletters and intranet snippet-writing. There have also been suicide prevention contracts to sign, frightening stories, and heartbreaking situations.

All in all, the rapid pace of being immersed in this new profession has my head spinning, and it will take me a while to regain balance again...to be able to leave the patients at the center and not hear them ruminating, asking me questions, and mucking around in my head all evening long. But I've heard that skill of separation simply takes time and experience. It is quite an adventure and one I do not regret.

hmmm...

what's that on your nose?

Well...I decided to go forward with nostril piercing. I asked for the smallest possible piercing. I like it, but it sure did make my eyes water! I've been wanting to do it for a couple of years but couldn't decide...well, that's over with!

blech...

101 flavors of ice cream to AVOID...

Rooney concurs...

that goes for me, too...

whatever...

whatever...so says Atticus...

oh, the frickin' woe of it all...

Wah. Wah. Wah.
I am still in school, taking one last class to get a graduate certificate in gerontology...and the "frickin' woe of it all" has to do with a paper I need to be writing right now.

But I don't wanna.

Like a 5 year old doesn't wanna...

I have been so tired and stressed out over the past two weeks that I don't frickin' wanna do much of anything when I get home. We are under-staffed and reorganizing all in the same breath at the hospital I work at and it is excruciating. Everyone is trying to stay afloat and not kill one another. Our director just left, everyone on staff is fairly new and admissions are flocking in like stuck-together boogers on a stick.

I dare say my marketing job at its busiest was akin to sitting around and picking my nose compared to my job as a therapist at this partial-hospitalization program. I do still love it, but it is fast-paced, extremely emotionally and intellectually demanding, no time to eat or take a piss... I've worked through my lunch everyday since May 25. Come in early and stay late--and be nowhere near caught up on Medicare's evil and mighty stack of required paperwork. Suicidal? Yeah, well prove it with these 15 forms...

Like I said...wah, wah, wah.

I still wouldn't go back though. The rewards of the job are worth the growing pains.

Unfortunately, the blog has suffered mightily, and probably will continue to do so until things smooth out a little more...

I guess I'd better go squeeze that paper out of my ass now. Bleh.

Peanut wishes you a nice, peaceful Sunday...

the better I can smell you with...

Petey would like to smell hi to you all...

So, I did 8 1/2

So, I did 8 1/2 hours of paperwork and 1 1/2 hours of therapy today...see anything wrong with that? Unfortunately, that's pretty typical.