After tonight, I deserve a glass of wine!

I am sitting here at 630AM with a glass of wine in my hand pondering my last shift at work. No I am not an alcoholic, I work third shift and this is my "night time". My mind is still reeling, and I have a feeling it may take me a while to fall asleep.

If I said last night was hectic, it would be an understatement. We were drowning. It was so incredibly busy, I was trying to eat a salad while I had a desk full of charts,I was answering phones in between bites, and I only went to the bathroom twice in twelve hours. The emotions that run through me as I see these patients through their charts is what makes me happy I am not on the floor dealing with them one on one. I am responsible for putting in orders, calling doctors, calling specialists, making sure radiology, respiratory, and every other department in the hospital get their orders for patients. I am kind of the "hub" and I can make or break a night by how well I keep up with everything. The entire time I was working an image of an octopus secretary went through my head.

One of the many times I see the charts are at the end of a visit. I document everything and make sure they are logged out. This is when I come across the reasons patients are there. Last night it seemed like it was the night of miscarriages and pregnancies. It seemed every woman coming in between the ages of 16 and 45 were either miscarrying their babies or finding out they were pregnant. Every time I saw a miscarriage pass through my hands I got really sad. It pains me to think that another mommy was losing her baby. Every time a pregnancy chart passed through my hands I smiled and hoped that these women realized what an amazing gift they had, and hoped they would appreciate the life growing inside of them. Unfortunately, not all of them feel this way. Actually, a large majority of the women we see are not happy when they find out they are pregnant. I specifically remember a woman coming in right before I lost Rosie. I was a little over seven months pregnant. I went to tell her that she was pregnant and started to congratulate her when she replied, "Oh crap! Well, just as I thought, I guess I am going to the clinic this week. I made an appointment just in case the test came back positive." She was going to have an abortion. This instance I apologized to the woman and told her I wish she would think twice, but it was ultimately her decision, I obviously chose life. If I witnessed this same scene now I would probably burst out in tears in front of this woman. I would asked her to reconsider, and probably offer to adopt her child. I guess one of the girls last night was relieved that she miscarried, because she didn't want the baby to begin with. It is so sad. People take that tiny little life inside of them for granted until they have wanted it so bad and then lost it.

Then we had our psych patients, the patients who come to us because they either have attempted to commit suicide, or are threatening to commit suicide. Before I used to talk to them and listen to them and try to understand their reasoning. Now, if I had to take care of one, unless they have gone through the amount of grief that me and my family has over the past 9 weeks, I would tell them to suck it up and stop whining.
"My boyfriend left me."
"There are more fish in the see."
"My husband hit me."
"Leave his sorry butt."
"I am homeless."
"There are groups to help you."
"I lost my job."
"Get another one...I am POSITIVE McDonald's by me is hiring."

If there is anyone who should be a cracked out, chain smoking, alcoholic ready to commit suicide, it should be me! This one glass of wine before bed does NOT constitute an alcoholic, so don't send the men with straight jackets after me. I feel these people are just weak minded, and I know that is an awful thing to say, but if you read what my mom has been going through over the past year, NO ONE has room to complain!

Now, we did have three patients that came through our doors in the past twenty four hours that broke my heart. Our three rape victims. Yes, not one, not two, but three rapes in the past 24 hours. Luckily, the cops caught one of the rapists, he was the local serial rapist who had raped at least 7 women that we are aware of. They all had the crap beaten out of them in the process, and were all pretty bad off. No woman should EVER have to experience that. Any man who would be as low as to rape a woman should have his penis chopped off and nailed on a post in the middle of town square. These are instances when I wish the old forms of punishment were still allowed, hang the man from the gallows not by his neck, but by his penis. Then let all of the women he has hurt rape him how they want with whatever object they want! Sorry, I went on a tangent.

The twelve hours is kicking my butt also. It is one thing to remain happy go lucky for 8 hours, answering every "How are you?" with "I'm fine." and a smile on my face. By the end of twelve hours it becomes exhausting. I am not saying all of it is an act, but every once in a while I really just want to vent and say how I truly feel, "Every minute that I have been here I think about my daughter and miss her. I am not okay and don't feel like I will ever be okay again." However, tonight when I started to reach my breaking point, I accompanied a friend of mine outside for a breather. We talked for a good 40 minutes. She let me vent, talk about Rosie, talked about my blogging, and talked about God. It meant so much to me, and I was able to go back in refreshed and finish out the shift with a true smile on my face. I think some people think it hurts me to talk about Rosie, but actually it makes me feel good and makes me realize that they have not forgotten about her either. It is not a conversation people need to avoid for fear of "hurting", I already hurt no matter what the topic is. Ask me anything I will be happy to talk about her. So I really appreciated the wonderful talk I had with my friend tonight.

I know helping people is one of my callings, I just pray everyday that this experience has not made me hard to the struggles and problems of strangers. As time passes, I am sure these little things that get to me now will ease. Grieving is a process and I am along for the ride now.