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.

gotta love it...

I felt like this at work today...

silly cat...crates are for dogs...

Yuki takes a power-nap while Petey plays outside...

oh, the trees...

As a new therapist serving older adults, I am single-handedly killing the rainforest. Medicare requires so much documentation that it is a flat-out race to get it done each day. I spend far more time documenting than I do providing treatment.

Now THAT'S crazy.

It's not like you can catch up on it either. You've got a 24 hour window to get it done. Fortunately for the trees, we will be transitioning to an electronic charting system.

What a big change it is to go from the administrative side of life to the clinician side. They really are woefully disconnected from one another. I hardly have time to pee during the day as a social worker/therapist. Everything is time-limited and pressured. There's no time to read the silly newsletter I used to edit. There are 500 other things that come before it...just like what I used to complain about..."why don't they read their newsletter?!" Now I know why. Well, I knew before, but I tried to convince myself that they would somehow find it in their hearts to read the corporate newsletter in order to save my waning ego.

The other big change is that everything is ill-equipped for staff. Ah, the days in marketing were cushy, my friend. You needed supplies...ask and ye shall receive promptly. Welcome to human services... Now I sit in a broken chair, work on an old computer and clunky old inkjet, share an office with another therapist and scrounge for supplies and materials. But I knew it would be that way, because our focus is on the patients who enjoy a homelike atmosphere that is healing and healthy. And the hungry get fed first when there's only so much money to go around, right?

By the way, did I tell you I love my job? (never said that before) Either I'm a masochist, or something real is happening in my life...

and then...

On Friday, something will be conferred to me...no, not cooties or some other dastardly disease of social lubrication...

The Degree.

Yup, that one. The one that says I'm out of the nest. Jiminy Crackheads.

So, apparently I somehow got through the whole thing and will finally get my master's in social work. Maybe even summa cum laude. Not that I've paid attention to such things...

Snarling Purring and waiting around the corner is a new career. I have been offered a full-time job as a geriatriK therapissed. Happy about that...not pissed ;-)

One of the reasons I chose this field is because you will always be challenged to learn more. I just dread the years of being a beginner again. Or maybe if I can be truly mindful, I can be in constant wonder at the knocking of my knees...

talking about school shootings...

There's just nothing you can say about this week's horror. Here are some good articles for those who are looking for guidance in helping themselves or others heal...from the American Psychological Association.

Tips for College and University Students: Managing Your Distress in the Aftermath of the Virginia Tech Shootings

Talking to your children about the recent spate of school shootings

Managing stress after traumatic events

And related...
Violent Video Games Can Increase Aggression

I should note what prompted this post so late after the news of this event...this morning I was sitting in one of my very last university classes before graduation and I kept hearing a "popping" outside...just like a handgun (sounding eerily like the video as well as I have shot handguns before and know what they sound like)...and even though I was 99.9% sure it really was construction, it was very, very unnerving to keep hearing it. It went on for about 10 minutes and finally stopped.