March 23, 2012

  • Change…

    …But some things stay the same.  I’m sent to relieve a nurse who is working the same heart wrenching procedure we did yesterday.  I no sooner walk through the door and I’m sent out in search of a powerful anti-seizure medication.  We take that patient straight from the OR to Radiology for a scan. 

    The scan is negative.  We are amazed.  The same surgeon looks at me, “I can’t believe it.”  I shake my head and smile.  He’s a tough one to win over, but after yesterday, I think he’s okay with me.

    I waffle on the benefit, but the woman organizing it tells me that she really wants me there, “People are asking me if you’ll come.  You need to be there.”  So I promise I will be.

    When I find some down time, I check the training schedule for tomorrow.  To my horror I find that I’m scheduled for Saturday AND Sunday.  That amounts to 12 hours of overtime (or at least 10 hours).  I’ve worked all week, and I’m working all week next week.  Twelve days straight without a break.

    I take it to my supervisor, who is also horrified.  She tells me that I still have to come in.  I risk suspension if I don’t.  She looks at me helplessly.  My other supervisor is heartily pissed, “But you had NO days off this week!  How the hell did they miss that?”  I shrug, too uncomfortable to state the obvious:  they’ve let too many people have the week off.

    When I get in my car I call J, “I can’t make it Saturday night.  I have to go to work for training on Sunday.”  It’s only a half day, so we decide to meet on Sunday evening for dinner and drinks.  J is mobilizing the friends.  On the social networking site he tells a close mutual friend that “we need to cheer up a dear friend”.  My words, but no less heartfelt. 

    He’s skeptical about his newest relationship.  It isn’t moving as fast as he’s accustomed to so he’s disconcerted.  I reassure him as much as I can, but it’s not enough.

    I confess that I feel like shit, that I miss D.  J reiterates what I already know, that D is just spending time with friends.  These are the same friends who view him as a pathetic eunuch, “You know this isn’t about him hooking up with someone.  I’ve been out with him when he’s like this.  He goes on and on about you like you’re still around.  Bragging, almost.  Remember?  I was the one who told him to shut the fuck up because I didn’t want to hear about the sex he had with you.”  He reminds me that he went so far as to mention my name to some of our old acquaintances out of town, “He was ‘broken up with you’ then, remember?  Only in his mind, he wasn’t.  I think it’s the same way this time.”

    I tell him that I told D that I wouldn’t email, text or call, that he should destroy all videos and photos.  J scoffs, “As if he did in the past?”  I make a disgusted noise.  J is right.  D never deletes anything.  I exist everywhere.  “He’s never done with you.”

    I’m too tired to give a shit.  I’m going to bed.

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