I did good.

Saturday night sucked. It took a while, but gradually I woke up. When I opened my eyes I saw that it was 3:35am. Who knows how long I had spent floating on the edge of consciousness, trying to wake up. But at 3:35am, I woke up. And I felt like crap. My heart was pounding, I could feel it in my ears. It was like I had just run a marathon but I wasn't even out of breath. I was also sweating and clammy. And my knees had that familiar wobbly, weak feeling to them. That's right folks, I was low.

I haven't woken up low in forever. (Well, at home anyway. I wake up low all the time in the hospital when I'm on call but that's another story.) And it's not fun, but I am lucky in the respect that some diabetics don't wake up at all when they are low. I have always been able to feel it it my sleep and it gradually sucks me out of my rest. Which is a good thing really because bad things happen when you get too low. There was only one time in all my 18 years as a diabetic where I was low and I didn't wake up. Thank God my husband was there. There was no seizure, nothing too nuts, but I was crazy out-of-it. My husband has been with me so long (he even went with me one summer to be a counselor at a diabetes camp). So he did great, got me to sit up and slowly sip some orange juice. I don't remember most of this but let me tell you, when I came to, I was completely freaked out. ::shudder::

Anyway, I was shaky but I could tell I had this one under control. I decided to let Brad sleep and go out into the living room to take care of myself. I tested and my blood sugar was 42. Awesome. I had a Barnies Coffee Cooler with friends earlier that night and those things do a number on my blood sugar. So I gave myself plenty of insulin. Well, obviously I overdid it because 5 hours later, I was sitting on my couch shaky and clammy downing a glass of milk. That's my go-to low fixer. Milk. I know it's weird. And sometimes I use OJ when I'm on the go and just need a quick fix. But milk works great. About 8 to 10 ounces is perfect, has just the right number of carbs for me (15gms or so) and protein so that I my blood sugar doesn't crash again in a hour when my body has burned all that sugar. It takes a little longer than OJ to kick in since it doesn't have anywhere close to the crazy sugar power of OJ. But if I have the luxury of time it's great and doesn't bounce my sugars all over the place.

Here's where the devil on my shoulder comes into play. I really should have stopped at the milk. But I had just made some chocolate-peanut butter fudge and it seemed like the perfect time to indulge. But I promise it was just one piece!! And since I knew I'd rebound, I stayed up for a while to check my sugar and take some insulin before I went back to bed. I was hoping that I wouldn't wake up with a narly high. And when I rolled over the next morning and realized I had to pee like a mo-fo, I was worried. But my blood sugar was 122. Perfect!! I was pretty pleased with myself.

While I was up I was remembering all the dBlogs I had found recently. And I was thinking, cool, I can blog about this and maybe other diabetics out there will see it and totally relate like I was relating to their stories. But mostly I'm just proud of myself for treating my low, not overdoing it and not ending up sky-high the next morning. Sometimes it can be so hard to deal with the ravenous hunger that comes with lows. I feel like a never-ending vessel, running out of fuel, needing the sustanence so badly that I will just eat and eat and eat. And sometimes it takes so long to come out of those lows. Of course I know from experience that once the low does subside, that I will feel like crap for eating like it was going out of style. My blood sugar will also suffer the consequences later on. More often than not I try to take it slow. It does help to have a go-to staple for lows. Like I said, I like milk or sometimes OJ. That way I don't have to think or scramble for a solution, I have on on-hand and my low-brain won't get the opportunity to steer me wrong.

~Layne

World Diabetes Day

Well, today, November 14th, is World Diabetes Day. For whatever reason, I was inspired to Google some new blogs and I was curious if I could find a few from people like me living with Type 1 diabetes. Well, I found more than a few!! I found hundreds. And I also happened to stumble upon the fact that today, November 14th, is World Diabetes Day.

Seeing all these people's blogs humbled me. I feel like I try damn hard to take care of my diabetes and be an example of compliance and control. Well, these people put me to shame. Some had A1C's higher than mine, some lower. But they put me to shame because they have a voice. They are speaking out to other diabetics. Shit! I feel downright lazy in comparison.

For those who know me well, I'm sure you've seen me get frustrated with my diabetes. But it's more than that. It's something I live with every moment of everyday. I can't even get hungry without thinking a thousand thoughts of "am I hungry enough for it to be worth eating?" or "is this snack worth taking a shot for" or "why am I hungry? what's my blood sugar?" This stupid disease is a mind-game, it totally gets in your head and messes with you. For example, my dilemma right now is I'm about to run out of syringes. I'm "not allowed" to get anymore for another week because my insurance won't let me refill more than once every 3 months. So with every shot I think, do I have enough needles? Should I throw this one away or save it and use it again? So this week, I'm resorting to using syringes multiple times before throwing them away in order to stretch my supply. Ever been given a shot with a dull needle? Not fun, my friends.

But it's not about the shots. Everyone thinks it's the shots. The number 2 question I get is "how many shots do you take a day?" (The number 1 question I'm asked as a diabetic is "are you allowed to eat that?" That's about the most obnoxious thing and I hear it over and over and over again.) When I tell people the answer (which is 4 or 5 usually) they gasp, act pained and say they could never do that. Damn right they could. I hate when people say that, like I'm better or braver than them. I don't have a choice. And if they had diabetes, they wouldn't have a choice either and you better effing believe they would take shots, prick their fingers, get their blood drawn and do whatever they had to to stay healthy.

Anyway, my point is, the shots don't bother me. They bother everyone else but me (the one who actually takes them). What bothers me is the mind game this disease plays with my head. The symptoms of the highs and lows and never knowing when they will strike (at work is the worst, by the way). If I gave myself the shots and tested by blood sugar and did everything I do now and my health was always kosher (great blood sugars between 80 and 110, wonderful A1C under 6, no symptoms, no highs, no lows, no complications later in life) this disease would be a walk in the park.

But, no. Unlike other chronic diseases, the patient can do exactly what they are supposed to do and never know what their blood sugar will be, never be able to get their diabetes under control and never be able to predict what the future will bring. That's what sucks. I'm testing my blood sugar all the time and I feel like I'm constantly on top of my diabetes. My best A1C ever was 6.1. Usually I run mid-6's. But I want more. I'm sick of the giant swings in blood sugar and the headaches and jitters. But what else can I do other than just keep on keepin' on?

I'm so happy that today is World Diabetes Day. I hope people other than the diabetics in this world actually know about it and care about it. I'm also happy that this day has been recognized by the United Nations. But for me, November 14th doesn't go away. Every day is diabetes day. It follows me everywhere. For me, this isn't a cause. It's my life.

~Layne

Job News

Well, we all knew it was coming. Me especially and I couldn't be happier. So I can finally say it OUT LOUD!! That's right folks, last week I officially resigned from my job. YIIIPPPPPPIEE!!!!!! For anyone who's been reading this blog for longer than a minute, this shouldn't be too much of a shock. I've been pretty outspoken about how miserable I've been. First of all, the job is just inherently not what I want. Let's start with a list:

1. The job is an hour away from our apartment. Which sucks because our apartment is super far from everything else: friends, family, Target, Moe's. Yes, Target and Moe's are of vital importance and must be close, 10 minutes away, max! The only reason we live way out here is so I can be "close" to my job . . . . which is an hour away!! And when we move to our new house it will be even farther away, more like an hour and a half. And I know that we could have picked a house closer to my job but, again, I hate where we live right now. And I love where our new house is located. (Side note: If you haven't tried a Moe's burrito, you should. Seriously. They are wonderful. Everything is wonderful there. It's cheap, Mexican, cheesy, steak-y goodness. Oh! And definitely get the queso for your chips. Yummmmm.)
2. The unit is a Level 2 NICU. The babies there aren't as sick. Not that we don't ever get sick babies but we have to ship them off ASAP after we stabilize them. We will occasionally get a vented patient and when we do, I love it. Maybe that makes me a horrible person, but these are the kids that I like to take care of. My passion is Level 3, the sickest, smallest babies. It's complicated and interesting and I really feel like I'm helping them and making a difference. That's what I was trained to do and that's what I love.
   
3. Okay, so I don't mind just the Level 2 thing. It's not optimal but it's not awful. What is awful is that I cover the newborn nursery. For me, the newborn nursery is hell on Earth. Besides the fact that it's halfway across the hospital from the NICU, it's boring as all getout. And frustrating. Mind-numbingly awful. Basically, I spend the vast majority of time at work doing one of two things. I'm either 1) taking perfectly healthy infants away from their parents to do a stupid physical exam once a day where I once again verify, yep, this kid is fine, which the babies hate and the parents find disruptive at best. 2) I'm trying to convince a newborn nursery RN that the baby she has paged me about 5,000 times in the last hour is, in fact, healthy and does NOT need to be admitted to the NICU. That's my favorite. Really.
4. The hours suck. The practitioners only work nights in this unit. Meaning I never get to see Brad, because I leave for work in the afternoon before he gets home from work and come home after he leaves in the morning. Anyone out there who is married or even in a serious relationship, I'm sure, can appreciate how much this blows.
5. Going back to how far away this job is . . I spend a crap-load of money on gas and tolls. Like $400 a month. Ugh, it hurts to say it out loud. I have also put about 5400 miles on a car that I bought 2.5 months ago!!!! For those of you out there you aren't math majors, that means I will put 30,000 miles on my car in a year!! Just driving back and for to work. Um, no thanks.
   

So these are all things about the job that just can't be changed. They have all gotten to me but that's not the only reason I've had it up to here with this job. I haven't been treated all that well. The practice I work for has gone through some rough times while I've been there. And for that I sympathize. But I have been expected to shoulder about half of the burden and that's just not right. First off, I'm a brand new practitioner, just graduated a year ago and I personally don't think it's right or smart to expect that of me. Second, I've only worked there for about 7 months and all of a sudden I feel like I'm carrying the whole freakin' unit by myself with one other person to help. Not fun.

Once we found our house, it became clear to me that I couldn't continue this. Especially after we move. So I gave my notice on October 30th. I was super nervous, but it went better than expected. My contract says I have to give 3 months notice so my last day will be late January. Until then, a HUGE weight has been lifted off of me. I have been so unhappy the last few months and it is a big relief to see a light at the end of the tunnel. And the best news . . . . I have an interview at an Orlando NICU for a job I really want. There are at least 4 others interviewing so who knows what will happen but please pray for me!!

~Layne

Now if you're feelin' kinda low
About the dues you've been paying
Future's coming much too slow
And you wanna run but somehow you just keep on stayin'
Can't decide on which way to go
Yeah, yeah, yeah
I understand about indecision
But I don't care if I get behind
People livin' in competition
All I want is to have my peace of mind.
- Boston, "Peace Of Mind"

What a GREAT day!

So we are officially home-owners! I can't believe today is closing day! This past week has been (yet another) week of big changes. And all of them wonderful! Our biggest news is that today we became home-owners! Again! Well, again for me. This is Brad's first time and I think he's thrilled. The only buzzkill is that we won't actually move into our new digs until January sometime. So this whole thing is a little surreal. But we are still stoked!

So I've already posted a link to pictures of the house. But since it's officially sold I'm sure it's only a matter of time before that link is dead. So to commemorate this day, here's a slideshow of pics of our new house:

To be honest, there is so much else going on right now. Lots of new changes on the job front. ALL GOOD, for once. But today all I can think about is our new house. But I'll be sure to post more updates soon!

YAY!
~Layne

Trick or Treat?

Well, I guess that's the question lately. Everyday. Is my life a big effing trick or full of sweet treats. I think it's mostly good, except for this one big black spot on it.

::cough:: my job ::cough::

'Scuse me. Little something in my throat there. Anyway, this was my long week. The week I work 4 night shifts instead of three. I think the worst part (besides the 60 hours at work, 8 hours of commuting and 500 miles on my car) is the fact that on weeks like this I don't get to see my husband hardly at all. I don't get to see anyone really but it's not seeing Brad that really stings. For example, this week we saw each other Sunday night and then not again until Thursday night. Yep! Four days. It's like one of us went out of freaking town. And on regular weeks that interval only shortens to three days! But somehow I guess we've learned to handle this. Mind you, there are lots of phone calls but it's just not the same. Can anyone out there imagine not seeing their spouse for 3 days straight every week? And then missing them for 4 days straight once a month?!? It's rough.

On the bright side, if I had to pull 4 shifts, this was a pretty great week to do it. For several reasons:

1. Really light census. For those of you who don't work in a medical setting, the census (or number of patients) is a big part of how busy you are at work. It was really light this week, which I'm super grateful for!
   
2. Plus, not a lot of scheduled C-sections. Backstory: The first C-section of the day is at 7:30am and I am supposed to get off at 8am. In theory, the 7:30 C-section should be the last thing I do before I duck out. Problem is, no one there can seem to get their act together and the 7:30 C-section rarely (read: never) goes at 7:30. I'm usually not paged until 8am, which means the baby won't be born until 8:15 and I'm lucky to be out of there at 8:30 or so. 30 minutes late. So I hate the AM sections. So the fact that I only had one this week was heaven!! I'm thinking since it's Halloween week, moms are choosing not to be have their babies born so close to the holiday. Since it's scheduled, obviously they have the luxury of picking the day. That's my guess anyway.
3. They are re-doing the call room this week. Sucks a little because I've been shuffled around between call rooms and the phone hasn't worked and everything has been a war-zone with all the construction. But they pretty much started and ended all the work within a couple of days which was great. AND the new call room looks amazing!! The best part is the mattress, which now actually passes for a mattress and not a boulder covered in noisy plastic! And it's clean with new carpet and wallpaper! Can I just tell you that there were sticky stains all over than room that I think are older than I am!! It was gross. Oh, oh, oh!! And I saw them bring in a fridge and microwave!!! That's right, I can actually store my food and eat in my breakroom rather than walking across the hospital to store my lunch box!! Woo hoo!! I'll hafta post pics because that room is freakin' sweet!!
4. Brad was sick this week. And as much as I would have loved to be home to take care of him, it's probably best that we were apart so I didn't get sick as well. Not only would we probably end up just passing it back and forth for weeks (yes, it's happened before and, yes, it sucks) but I'm also apparently not allowed to call out of work. (long story but basically I've been told that "of course you can take time off, just make sure to give enough notice that they can find someone to cover your shift, at least a month would be great." Uh, okay. So what about being sick or emergencies? Can't exactly plan those! Remember my car accident? Yeah, bite me.) So anyway, getting sick isn't an option.
   

I'm a little bummed that I have to work on Halloween. I knew going into this job that I'd have to work some portion of the weekend. And really thought only having to work Fridays was about the best it could get. But every frickin' holiday this year has been on an effing Friday! WTF? July 4th was the other big one. Not that I have plans but I'm excited that we may get trick-or-treaters this year and I'm a little bummed that I won't get to be there to see them and hand out candy. In fact, I've already told Brad that he must open the door for trick-or-treaters and he must give them candy and he must be nice to them and try to remember their costumes so he can give me a full description when I come home the next day.

Well, that's it for now. Lotsa other stuff going down but I'll save it for another post. Plus, we close on our new house in 3 days!!! Woo hoo!!

~Layne

Life and death . . .

Yeah, so as much as this particular job stinks, my job in general is pretty cool. I mean, I save babies. How much more noble can you get than that really? Not to toot my own horn or anything. . . Anyway, in the past I have definitely had some humbling experiences and, don't get me wrong, I do comprehend the weight of my authority and position in the NICU and in the delivery room. And I do have a healthy dose of "scared" in me. But lately I've gotten quite used to (and jaded by) the boring, mind-numbing monotony that is a tiny Level 2 NICU, not to mention the newborn nursery. :: insert dramatic groan here :: Then last week happened. I'm not going to go into too many details, well, because legally I can't. But let's just say I had a wake-up call. The night started out with a baby that was having a few minor problems . . . and by the end of my shift 14 hours later, those problems had turned life-altering. For the baby, for its family and for me. This baby had suffered a stroke.

Let me first say that there was nothing I did that caused this and there was nothing I could have done to prevent it, nor did I do anything that made it worse in any way. I suppose the most I could have done was recognize it sooner, but again that would not have improved this child's outcome. That said . . . it took me hours of research and crying and speaking with my attending physician to be absolutely certain of all this. You see, it doesn't really matter that there was technically nothing I could have done, the weight of my guilt was staggering. By the end of the night when I realized what was happening, all I could think is "Ohmigod, what did I do?"

Because I'm so new to this, I was absolutely convinced that I had done something wrong, somewhere along the line. I felt stupid and incompetent and it was completely unnerving to think that I could have missed something while caring for this baby. And I was absolutely I was convinced I had. I was devastated and I couldn't stop thinking about this child. Replaying the night over and over in my head. I thought of a million little things that I could have done differently, only to realize that hindsight was 20/20. There was no way I could have known. Again, it didn't matter. I cried all the way home. I cried all day long. I didn't sleep and I researched his condition all afternoon. It was an extraordinary feeling to feel absolutely responsible for another human's life. It was awful. It made me never want to be in that position ever again.

I get a huge rush from "saving" babies. From resuscitating them at a delivery, from seeing the things I do make a baby better, from reassuring and encouraging timid parents. It's a huge thrill and an absolute honor to be a part of it all. But on that day I wanted absolutely no part of it. Ever. Again. Because, for the first time, I was forced to wonder if instead of helping, I hurt someone. Not hurt as in may be in the NICU a couple more days or in some other way where the baby will ultimately be fine. But hurt as in may never walk, never talk, never play like normal a child. Hurt as in a mother and father grieving over the loss of their perfect child. The weight of that was unbearable.

It took several days for me to come to grips with this. To process it and let go of my guilt. It took seeing the baby slowly get better and hearing from someone with 30 years of experience that this particular case had him "scratching his head too." But for about 24 hours there, I wanted no part of my job. The weight of it felt like it was crushing me. The idea of ever making a "mistake" that could hurt a baby like that was too daunting to face. But slowly I realized that, just like the good things, that is what comes with the territory. You can't help people without risking hurting them. You can't always save every patient. And you can't always be perfect. I don't want to be human at my job, it's too scary. But, unfortunately, that's something about myself I can't change. The best I can do is learn from the scary times and the mistakes and never make the same ones twice. And pray that God is with me in everything I do, especially at that place. At was so scary to go back to work, but in the end I had to believe that I have it in me to do so much more good in my career. I want to learn and to be better and to save more lives, God willing. I want to believe that I can.

Introspectively,
~Layne

I'm only pretty sure that I can't take anymore
Before you take a swing
I wonder what are we fighting for
When I say out loud
I want to get out of this
I wonder is there anything
I'm going to miss
I wonder how it's going to be
- Third Eye Blind, "How's It Going To Be"

We got a house!!

So, yeah, after my truly wretched night, I haven't really been in a blogging kinda mood. But actually it's been an eventful month. So here's a quick summary of what's been going on the last month and a half:

The week after my wretched night was my "long week". This is the one week a month that I have to work 4 night shifts instead of three (or 56 hours instead of 42). In a word, it bites. Well, this is also the week where Tropical Storm Fay decided to stall out over Melbourne, the city I work in. Since my commute is 125 miles round-trip and all the roads were flooded, windy and dangerous, I was pretty nervous about the drive. At a couple points, I had to pull over and wait it out because the driving conditions were just that bad. I even had to rearrange a couple of my days around so that I wouldn't be driving to my shifts during the worst of it. Could I call out of work, or get someone else to cover me? Not a chance. No way. Does it matter that I live an hour away? Or that the other two people who work there live within 10-15 minutes of the place? Or that they are men with family nearby if anything happened and I'm a woman whose husband would be 60 miles away? Apparently not, because nobody offers to help me out and when I suggest it, I'm basically told that I'll be expected to make it up at a later date. The moral of the story here, folks, is that the people who work there are simply not interested in coming into work for a millisecond more than absolutely necessary and will do whatever it takes to avoid it at all costs. Gotta love it. It left me wondering what I will do when I'm sick and need to call out or, God forbid, want to take a vacation. But one problem at a time. So that week I endured 56 hours of work, 8 hours of commute, 500 miles of scary driving to and from work, through terrible flooding and tropical storm force winds. To be perfectly blunt, by the end of the week, I was pissed. . . . and wet.

That horrible week culminated on Friday when, in between shifts, I decided I missed my husband and decided to meet him for lunch. That night was the last shift I had left to work that week and I felt energized by the near-freedom and felt like getting out of the house. As I'm sitting at a stoplight, the driver behind me slammed into me. I was spun around (yep, again) and sent into the median. After hitting me, the other driver still had enough momentum to keep going, ramp herself into the median, mow down a palm tree and finally come to a stop in some bushes. I think it's a safe bet to safe she never bothered to brake.

Luckily neither of us were flung past the median into oncoming traffic. Between the hurricane and my long week, my nerves were pretty raw and I didn't handle this so well. I was pretty shaken. I will say I feel terribly lucky to not have been hurt. But I had only had my car for 4 months and I got it about a month after being in another bad accident in March which was a terrible ordeal. Wanna know the best part, though? When I called the boss to tell him about the accident and that I didn't have a car, he ended the conversation with, "Alright, just let me know what you are going to do about tonight!" That's right, folks. He totally expected me to leave for work 3 hours after I was in a car accident which totalled my car. Awesome. I truly felt like I was being shat on by the universe. In the end, though, it wasn't as bad as the first accident. It took several phone calls on my part but in about a week the lady was determined at fault for the accident and my car was deemed officially totaled. I got the money for the car and my previous loan paid off and ended up getting a brand new version of my old car. Not fun, but again, it all worked out in the end.

So, yeah, August wasn't a great month for me. But it ended on a decent note, since Aug 30th was the day I got my new car, which was fun. September has been significantly better. Since then I've had 4 weeks of working my normal 3-shift schedule, which has been nice. And while there have been a few annoyances at work, it hasn't been anything awful. Also, for whatever reason, we got the house bug about a week into September and decided to drive around and scout the area of town we were interested in living in to see which neighborhoods we liked. We had fun and even went into a few open houses. We met Meg, our realtor, at one of them. She was very sweet and open. And she offered to dive right into a search for us if we would tell us what we were looking for in a house.

Brad and I were trying not to take it too seriously considering we were in our apartment lease until February 21st and had no interest in paying double rent. But despite our best efforts we (read: me) got excited and dove into house hunting. Over the next 3 weeks we compiled a few lists of houses and looked at about 20 houses in total. We liked a few but there was one that we were interested in from the start and no matter what our mood, never got cut from "the list." We decided to make an offer on it last weekend with the provision that we get a long closing, so as not to pay double rent for more than a couple months. The owners countered and it turns out they want a couple months to stay in the house so they can work on finding their next house in Tampa. We will close November 3rd and they will lease the house back to us until December 31st. We will move in sometime mid-late January (after we make a few improvements) and we'll only pay one month of double rent! How perfect. In short, we got our first house!! YIPPEE!!!

For those interested, here's a link to pictures of our new house!

Talk about semi-charmed life,
~Layne :-D

Truly. Wretched. Night.

Well, last Tuesday (August 5th) started out like any other day. But by the end of my shift on Wednesday morning, it would go down in history as "Hell Day." Yes, everyone at my hospital was calling it that, not just me. But unfortunately I think I bore the brunt of it. Ugh. . . here's my tale.

I started out the day feeling not so great. If you are a guy, skip these next few sentences. If you are a girl, I'm pretty sure you'll sympathize. To put it plainly, I was feeling fat and disgusting. I saw some pretty revolting pictures of myself and the numbers on the scale were not helping matters. So, on my way into work, I was already in a mood.

Alright, back to business. For those of you who are used to working in shifts, where your assignment is handed off to you by person who was working before you, you'll probably understand the frustration and dismay I felt walking in to find my attending in a particularly foul mood. Because it means that the assignment I was being handed was going down the shitter. . . . fast. There were 12 babies in the NICU, which is a lot for us, since we are used to more like 5-7 babies at a time. And one of them got particularly sick that day. The MD only had 2-3 notes done (meaning I had about 10 babies to examine, charts to review and notes to write, aka about 3-4 extra hours of work). And to top it all off, the baby that was sick needed arterial access which the attending was having difficulty getting. The umbilical cord was shot (the kid was 12 days old, so no surprise there) and he was dehydrated, meaning that getting a peripheral art line would be difficult at best. So he was stuck staying late. (Lucky me.)

Also, because he had been so busy all day he hadn't seen any of the normal newborn babies. So I have about 10 babies to examine and chart on upstairs. Since he had the fort held down in NICU I decided to get started on that. Well, no sooner was I upstairs, than I was called for a delivery. I don't normally go to vaginal deliveries but this baby was suspected to have a heart defect (which he didn't) and they were concerned how he would do. So I stand there for a good 30 minutes before a normal screaming baby pops out and I resuscitate him and leave. But while I'm there the respiratory therapist (RT) is able to shed a little light on the impending doom that will be the rest of my shift. First she tells me that 34 week twins (translation: they will be coming to NICU - ugh, shoot me) will be coming that night. Since they are premature and are twins, I will be going to that delivery too. Also, there are 2 C-sections in the wings. (I have to attend all C-section deliveries). In case you haven't noticed yet. . . . all these deliveries that I have to go to take away the time I have to actually do my work. FUN!

So basically the night plays out like this: I go to 5 deliveries in 6 hours which produce 6 babies (since there was a set of twins), 2 of which were admitted to the NICU. The last of my deliveries for the night was around 12:30am and I don't finish the daily notes for the babies in NICU until about 2 am. So now I can finally see the babies in newborn. Since there are 20 of them (WAY more than the normal, which is around 12 or so) I don't finish with their exams until about 5am. I get about 2 hours of sleep before I wake up to a page from the NICU. There is a baby in trouble they want me to look at. So while I'm ordering a chest xray for this baby in the NICU, I get a page for the scheduled 7:30 C-section. I end up getting there late, the baby is already out and not doing well. This isn't the norm. Most of the 7:30 sections are term repeats and go off without a hitch. NOT THIS MORNING!! :-)

Well, I'm cranky because my night has been absolute shit and the RT is cranky because I'm late. So needless to say, we exchanged some not-so-sweet words and ended up admitting the kid to the NICU. . . . 30 minutes after my shift was supposed to be over. I'm pissed. I settle the kid in, give report and haul ass.

So this next part is the best part. Not because everything else didn't suck that night, it most certainly, without a doubt did. But what happened at work couldn't really be avoided and was what it was. What happened afterward didn't have to happen, but did because at that moment God hated me. So I'm driving home, hauling ass as usual and I notice a cop behind me. I had seen 2 people pulled over so far on my drive home so I was happy to realize that I was actually going the speed limit, mostly because the jackass in front of me was going the speed limit and I was trapped. Whew, right?

Not so much, after following me for about 2 miles the cop turns on his lights. I pull over, thinking surely this isn't for me. Um, yeah it is. I said "WTF? I wasn't speeding!" (Paraphrasing here.) He tells me he clocked me a few miles back going 16 mph over the limit but waited until after the construction zone to pull me over. The funny thing is I ended up pulling over in front of three other cars, each with a cop car behind them, lights flashing. I'm thinking "Geez, this is effing ridiculous! Is there a freakin' quota someone's trying to meet??" During the 5 minutes I sit there not one, but TWO other cars get pulled over by cops! TWO!!! One in front of me and the other across the street. So there are six cars and six cops all on side of the street all at the same time. I must have looked absolutely, freaking ridiculous to anyone driving by. Luckily, instead of giving me the $300+ ticket for going 16 over in a construction zone, the cop gives me a $100 ticket instead. Sweet guy, really. :: cough:: jackass ::cough ::

In short, thank God there wasn't an electrical storm that day, because the ways the stars were lined up that night, I'd be suffering from 3rd degree burns right about now. What the hell did I do to piss someone up there off so bad? Seriously.

Unluckily yours,
~Layne

And there's a demon in my head who starts to play
A nightmare tape loop of what went wrong yesterday
And I hold my breath till its more than I can take
And I close my eyes and dream that I'm awake
- Third Eye Blind, "Narcolepsy"

I suck . . .

Yes, folks. I officially suck at this blogging thing. I mean, take a look at the evidence:

1. I haven't posted in 60 days. Exactly. I missed the entire month of July.
   
2. I have a friend who is half a world away with a job and a wife who posts almost weekly, has the same number of posts as me but has been blogging two months less, AND when he does post it's freakin' epic-poem long. Seriously. Meanwhile I do my best to pump out a few paragraphs and lately have resorted to puffing up my posts with pics.
   
3. No comments. I have had one comment on my blog and it was from another blogger that I think is really an advertisement. I know that I don't exactly shout this thing from the rooftops but seriously. And just goes to prove my life (and blog) are so boring that neither warrant remark.
4. I think that's it but it seems weird to use this whole "list" feature if the list is only 3 things long. So there.

"So," you ask, "what have you had go on in your life in the last 60 days?" You think surely there must be some interesting stuff to report after 60 days of absence. Um. . . . . not so much.

Okay, in all seriousness, I felt like all I did was come on this thing to vent. Which I also do a lot IRL to my friends, my mom and to Brad (poor guy). I feel like I'm annoying myself with all the complaining so surely I'm annoying those in cyberspace as well. Also, because I'm not in love with my current employment situation, I worry about saying too much in case somehow word gets back to my boss. No need to start shit until absolutely unnecessary. Right? Damn right. So every time I would think to post, all I could think to post was more irate banter about how frustrated, annoyed and sometimes downright PISSED I am with my current, commute, job, boss, situation, etc. All those things are still true but I can't think of anything else to say that everyone around me hasn't already heard about and that won't otherwise risk getting me in trouble if it finds it's way back to my employer. So I guess that's that.

I'm off to eat lunch and to consider what else there has occurred in the last 60 days that was post-worthy.
~Layne

Back to the grind. . .

Well, I've been back at it for a little over a week now. The cruise was fun but mostly just nice to get away from everything for a little while. Plus it's the most I've seen my husband in a long while. You know, I kinda like the guy (go figure) and it makes me kinda sad when I don't get to see him (EVER) which is kinda how I've felt since starting this new job. The only time I get to spend with him during the week is Tuesday and Thursday nights. Other than that it's just Saturday and Sunday. I guess that's what I get for working 16 hour night shifts an hour away from where I live. Call me stupid. No seriously, do it. I feel pretty stupid. ::sigh::

Back to fun stuff. The cruise was great. And Dawn and Dave's wedding was beautiful. HOT! But beautiful. It was a blast seeing the girls from Shands. Makes me realize how much I miss it. And the best part was, since I was on the boat over my birthday, I won 25 bucks in the casino gambling on my bday!! I was so excited and it's even better than it sounds when you realize Brad and I both put in $10, he lost his and I was down to $2 when I won. Woo hoo! And my hubby was super sweet and took me to an amazing private dinner on the ship and gave me a purty for my birthday. Here are some pics:

First view of our ship and goofing around. . .
Dawn and Dave's wedding. Great time.

We really enjoyed the towel critters. What can I say?? It doesn't take much to amuse us.

Fun at the beach! But ouch! with the chafing!

Formal night. Aren't we purty?? Well, that's about it. Hope you enjoyed the pics!

~Layne