February 14, 2012
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tears….
Not on Monday, because the old guard welcomed me into the inner circle. Wicked fun. One of my tormentors had acted as if I was inexperienced and had make an ass out of herself. The old guard had a field day with that. “I had a notion to tell her that YOU had FORGOTTEN more about the operating room than she would ever know…” For all the mean-spiritedness, it was nice to know that I was accepted by the seasoned professionals.
It did wonders for lifting my spirits. I left feeling like my heart was calm and my world was at peace. I felt confident and …. able. I wasn’t happy, but I wasn’t unhappy. It was like riding a bike on flat terrain in mild weather…pleasant and easy. I was aware that I wasn’t smiling, but didn’t think anything about it. One of the radiology technicians jogged after me in the hall, “Turn that frown upside down, ____! You’re going home, Woman!” We laugh. My reputation as a happy person is set, and already well known in certain departments. I’ve worked on this job for 10 weeks. Not bad.
I’m working Same Day today with R. That’s generally a nightmare. The surgeon is a whiny and demanding person, but even though we have numerous setbacks – equipment that fails, an anesthesia emergency, an extremely late start – she’s calm and happy. The procedure that follows starts an hour late. The patient is very nervous. It’s a bumpy start, but it’s smoother than the last time I worked in Same Day.
R and I despise working Same Day. The supplies aren’t stocked. They keep rooms locked so we have to run for keys. The computerized charge system won’t take my log in ID. In short….it’s a clusterfuck.
Our radiology technician is a very flamboyant and openly gay man. He’s funny as hell, and very good at his job. He makes me laugh when he flirts with the male anesthetist (who’s very quiet and has a very dry sense of humor). I’m giggling at his jokes when my phone vibrates with a text.
It’s a randy little devil who is fishing for a date. I smile and key in a reply, “Spending the holiday with the kids.” A text comes in from the therapist with the appointment (Saturday at 10 am). I go back and forth with the randy devil, but finish with a reminder that I AM working.
The phone buzzes again, and I ignore it. I’m busy hustling around opening trays, sterile supplies and sutures. I’m a bit chagrined that he’d be so bold as to continue pestering me.
I pull the phone out of my pocket when I’m hiding behind the radiology tech.
It’s D. Happy Valentine’s Day!!
I take my time replying. Part of me wants to put my heart aside and rip him a new one. Part of me want’s to scream…and cry. As it is, my heart feels like it was on a roller coaster. Without warning, my eyes blur with tears. I slip out and grab paper towels to dab at my eyes….
I key in a nasty response. Then I stop and delete it. If it’s meant to be nasty, an olive branch, or nothing at all, I alone control how I respond. I let it rest for hours. Eventually I key in…
“Not so happy for me but thx I guess”
I look like I’m okay. I’m not. I’ll come back to this tomorrow and repair it. Sleep is sneaking up on me now…
