Skip to main content

Purge

I continue hemorrhaging people. Stephanie, my Stephanie, has given notice of her intention to end her employment. Thankfully, she gave me notice as well. Tears were shed. I totally get that she must do the right thing for her life. Her Baby Girl deserves to have her mama at home on holidays. I will miss the love and her art on the graduated pitchers.

I'm not gonna lie, it's hard to lose good people. People who are there, the ones that actually care. The ones who hug and kiss me (with permission) when I cry. The ones I laugh uproariously with; the ones who tell me off-color jokes and don't mind their language.

Seems like only yesterday that I lost Meredith to Magic Mike, marriage, and the midwest, nevermore to hear her sound effects while rolling me over in bed. Lisa also went home to the midwest. Don't they understand snow and tornados?! At least my sweet Sophie moved to California. I see much traffic and smog in her future. Man, she's gonna be a great nurse.

Asma, Sarah, and Lindsey moved on to a real hospital. I miss them real much. Jackie, incomparable Jackie. I mourn the loss of one of my greatest champions. She trained caregivers how to care for people with ALS. She sailed off for better harbors. Brittney moved to pursue nursing school, as so many do.

Hassan moved on but I remember him still so fondly. It was a sad day when Kelly left. She has some mad skills and saved me one night, when my peg tube pulled out of my chest. She was so calming and intuitive.

Then there were the James´, one was a nurse, the other, a patient care technician, both were gloriously gay and sweet, thoughtful caregivers. PCT James rocked some awesome ink and once stroked my hair to calm me following a traumatic event.

Kayci moved on to another real hospital. At least she is out there to tell another unsuspecting patient that it's her first day. I'll never forget that I believed her.

There is only one problem with publishing my caregiver gratitude list...  Forgetting someone who was special to me. Mea culpa, if your name isn't here. Faulty memory. Thank you for becoming a part of my heart.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Fall

Orange, gold, rust, burnt sienna, ochre, raw umber; the riot of fall colors, in the trees and at our booted feet; a drive in the countryside; the taste of hot apple cider on my lips; the satisfaction of a truckload of firewood we gathered and cut ourselves; elk herds on the move; hearty stews, savory soup, crusty whole-grain bread, pumpkin and gingerbread spice lattes; these are the memories I tap into the most this time of year. Cabela's fliers in the mailbox; Carhart's camo-clad hunters swarm outlying areas; mushroom garthering; huckleberry picking; logger burgers; forest service roads; cheese sandwiches on the woodstove; warm quilts, cool sheets, and flannel nightgowns; cold butt, warm heart.  Immensely grateful to have the well of memories to draw upon.

Lashing Out

Fed up. Sick of hearing, "I'm sorry."  Apologies don't erase the pain you inflict on me. You pull my pubic hair. Your nitrile gloves pull the hair from my head. Not once in a while but day in and day out. You turn me in a manner that suits you rather than in a manner that doesn't stress my body. Why won't you use the pad and sheet to turn me as one unit? Instead, you allow my body to twist as you hold me one-handed. How good you are at your job. What part of "my muscles are dying" don't you understand?

Shards Cling To

I just met my new psychologist and I already like her. I would say that it is effortless to talk to her, but talking to anyone through an augmentative and alternative communication (AAC) device takes a great deal of effort. One must think about what to say and drill it down concisely and succinctly, Then attempt to type it out with your eyes on a wonderous, but infuriating machine, and hope you nail the 'Speak' button, and not the 'Cancel' button. You're praying that the device doesn't spontaneously, disengage the eye gaze, leaving you mute and helpless. You're also praying that the calibration holds and your eyes don't tire or dry out. Aside from all of that, she did not overwhelm me with rapid fire questions, nor invade my personal space, by insisting on reading while I'm writing, instead of allowing me to "speak". Those things are huge. Counseling somebody with my disabilities, present unique challenges. I have major physical deficit...