February 16, 2012
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polterdrill…
Today’s assignment places me with a doctor who rarely works at the hospital. My colleague admits that she’s never worked with this doctor. Every single patient we have is severely developmentally delayed.
It’s time for me to shine. One of my specialties is pediatric surgery, and I’m especially good with special needs kids. My day will fly, even as the equipment acts up, and I crawl around on the floor working on the machine…my day flies. My colleague and I save the day….all day.
I don’t think about D at all. One of my friends asks how I’m holding up. I shrug, “Fine, I guess. I have a lot of things to keep me busy, though.” Besides, the only contact he made was a Valentine’s greeting. I’ve convinced myself that it meant nothing. I’m not sure why he even bothered. It may have been a gouge into my heart, to ruin my day and make me cry (which it did).
Another friend maps out her plan for her birthday. I’m fairly sure that she’ll find herself out of work soon, but she’s not listening to reason. She’s upset that the pay scale is lower here. I don’t tell her that I make quite a bit more than she does. She knows that I get about 4 hours of OT every pay period because I often stay after. That OT is time and a half so it’s pretty nice. If they allow her to switch her education days then I will be able to finish the next class I have to take in the span of a weekend which is good for me (it’s D’s birthday weekend). I drive her to her car (she was late this morning, again).
When I drive away, I feel a twinge of guilt about being mean to D. Angel me looks positively shocked, “After everything he’s done to you? You feel guilt?” I sit at a red light, feeling guilty. I sigh, and snatch my phone out of my purse, scroll down to his number, and key in a text…
I’m sorry
No response as of 5 hours later. I’m quite certain that I won’t get one at all, but it’s a way to be completely sure that he and I are “done”. It’s felt “done” in the past, but he wasn’t ready to let go. Often I wasn’t ready. Now, I don’t see a reason to see him again. I don’t even feel bad about the $150 helmet. His problem. I let myself off the hook when I spoiled the surprise and told him that I had planned to take him to a Brazilian steakhouse (that would have set me back $160 for the two of us). Let myself off the hook, and it feels pretty good.
I talk to my heart…gently…I tell her that he doesn’t like me, that he doesn’t find me attractive, that he despises me. He doesn’t want me around at all. It doesn’t hurt me, but my heart is a bit upset.
That is how the guilt gets me. I text and it feels like a failure. It feels like I’ve tried to make contact. Two words are not an invitation. I won’t email. I don’t contact him on the social networking site. I’m not even sure that I’d respond if he made contact.
All I know now is that I’m dead tired. The stress has gotten to me. I’m exhausted. I’m going to shower and go to bed….
