The Fart

I've been a nurse now for almost 22 years. That's a long time I figure, and working in the ER is the only thing that keeps me going in this profession. It's the continually changing environment and the unexpected that allows me to stay in this weird world of Western Medicine in which I frequently lose faith. I've seen a lot over those years and even though I've witnessed things I wish I hadn't or things that people shouldn't, I still can be shocked and amazed by an occasional left field experience. Last night is a good example. Not deep. Not life changing or even life altering but it was a new experience worthy of complaining, scratch that, writing about. I was accused of farting in front of a patient. OK, not a big deal like I said but it pissed me off because I didn't do it! And not only the patient, but her boyfriend as well said that I let out (and I quote) "a huge loud fart that stunk up the whole room!" Here's what gets me. The ER of any hospital can be a horrible experience for the average person having to visit one. Not only are you feeling miserable in the first place but you have to wait in line, often for hours, with a room full of coughing, sometimes vomiting, usually grumpy, just-as-miserable people who may have a different definition of 'hygiene' than you do. By the time you actually get back to see the doctor you kind of wish you'd never come to the ER in the first place. There are some people who know the system all to well and try to eliminate this wait by calling for an ambulance for things as life threatening as a toothache. The thinking is that by getting a $750 ride to the ER they will go straight back into a treatment room thereby avoiding the miasma that is an ER waiting room. What they forget, however, is that we ER nurses weren't born yesterday and we get really pissed off when people try to abuse a system that is already overstressed. It actually gives us a certain passive aggressive joy to watch the paramedics come into the ambulance bay doors, through the ER, and back out into the lobby to unload a healthy patient off of the gurney into the admitting receptionists hard plastic chair..."take a number, buddy, we'll get to you as soon as we can". Anyway, back to the patient who accused me of farting. What bugs me is that I wasn't even her nurse. I was just acknowledging the aforementioned misery of an ER and being nice to them by bringing extra blankets and soda's to make their stay a little more pleasant. After leaving the room for the second or third time, delivering a Pepsi and being more waiter than nurse, they put on their call light and the nurse caring for them entered the room. When she came out smiling she gathered all of us (this was too good not to share with the entire ER staff!) around the nurses station to share the news that I had just farted in room 6 in front of patient and family stinking up the whole room. After much levity and hours of ridicule and ribbing it became the joke of the day. Now, I can take a good joke with the best of them, but this is America dammit and I am innocent until proven guilty! It did help my case that the patient in room 6 came to the ER for an anxiety attack after losing all her money at the casino earlier in the day. But it still irked me that someone I had gone out of my way to help went out of their way to hurt. I'm figuring it was the boyfriend. He let one fly, got busted by his girlfriend and blamed it on the nurse. Dirtbag! Here is the skeleton in the closet...my mea culpa. I actually have farted in patient rooms before but never got busted...BUT NOT THIS TIME...I DIDN'T DO IT! Every other time it was when I was either changing an incontinent diaper, or giving an enema or cleaning up a nasty commode or...OK you get the picture. The rooms had already been a wasteland of biological-weapon air quality. A disaster by which, when adding a little more gas, couldn't really hurt the situation. So when confronted with this crime of fouling a perfectly fine room I got really angry. I guess you could say my angry reaction was just latent guilt for "passed" sins (couldn't resist).

Getting Itchy, Gotta Breathe

I feel it coming on and the timing's all wrong. My heart and my belly are my barometers for change and the pressure is increasing as I know a high is in the forecast. How soon I'm not sure but there seems to be something at about the 2 year mark that sets me off. To hell with the 7 year itch, I have the A.D.D. version of that in which after 2 years the walls seem to close in a bit tighter and the colors look a bit duller and the rut feels that much deeper. Two years and I start asking myself that horrible question..."is this it?" Is this what I want to do for the rest of my life? Is this how I am expressing my uniqueness and individuality and creativity in this lifetime? Of course I know I have to make money in this lifetime and I know that I am lucky to have the kind of job that allows me to serve others while having a wage that allows me to work part time. I'm blessed that way and appreciative...and my feet are itchy for more or for something different. In other words I'm a spoiled little bitch, but we already knew that. This constant moving around from ER to ER isn't the best plan for financial stability but my left brain never was very well developed. My retirement planner (me, actually, whenever I bother to think about retiring and hope that Social Security will hold out for 30 more years and survive the Republican/Obama ideology of war vs. social programs) knows this is a horrible strategy for having money in the distant future. But I can't fire him no matter how bleak my "portfolio" looks. Right now, my employer will match money that I put away for retirement. It's totally free money! How awesome is that?!!! I remember as a kid, my glass-half-empty Dad telling me there is no free lunch. Great advice. Probably better given to someone older than a 6 or 7 year old holding an 'all you can eat for free' Denny's kids meal, but good advice none the less. As an adult I think of it often. If I stay at this job for the next 20 years I might actually have quite a bit of money on which to retire. Did I really just write that last sentence?!! There truly is no free lunch or lunch money. All I have to do is trade my 50's and 60's for some financial security in my 70's so I can look back and wish I would have traveled to places I used to think were cool in my 30's and 40's. Did I really just write that last sentence?!! As I did there was a tightness in my throat, some chest discomfort, slight nausea and a shallowing of the breath...very similar signs of having a heart attack. Not too dissimilar to the feelings I mentioned earlier and yet extremely different. Kind of like how the feeling of being intensely in love feels a lock like being intoxicated only a lot better. Listen to your body...trust your gut I hear my inner voice crying out. There is an inner wisdom that bypasses the normal cognitive approach and we logical beings like to ignore it. Why do most of us dismiss intuition as silly, or foolish, or something only yoga instructors in their early to mid 20's listen to for guidance? Because if we did listen to our inner...our body's way of telling us right and wrong the whole world would change in an instant. From the food we eat to the way we talk with and about each other and the work we do and the wars we wouldn't wage to how we spend our free time would all be radically altered. If it feels good (to your soul) do it. OK I am digressing badly and I know this because John Lennon's "Imagine" is now going through my head... "and the world will live as one".
You can see where I'm going with train of thought. It's the justification I need for allowing me to start dreaming again of travel...of leaving...of adventure. When I look back at my resume there is a distinct bi-annual migration that occurs in my life. Almost always in the fall and specifically in October, I change jobs and move on. I'm almost a full three months behind schedule now and am starting to jones for a life change...THE TRIP! It's not that I want a new nursing job, that's almost never it...and it's not a good time AT ALL for me to be feeling this travel bug. But how do you control what you feel or when you feel it?