On A Personal Note...

I’m sorry I’ve been so distant lately.  I’ve been busy hosting a ginormous pity party with one guest; me, and hiding behind cheery FB posts. FB is a poor tether to real life.

The fact is this: I lost my shiny new job. Canned. Yep.

 

It started out innocently enough. A bit of back pain by the end of the shift. Then a little more. Then I began to slow down as the pain escalated, having trouble keeping up with the frantic pace and long shifts, getting off work in the morning and fighting back tears when I got in my truck to drive home.

I finally hobbled in to see my doc.  What the hell, doc?  My shoulder blades and ribs are killing me! A person is NOT supposed to feel their shoulder blades and ribs. He poked on my spine until I was begging for mercy, and then ordered an MRI. It turns out that the stupid effing RA has degenerated my spine, and now I have multiple bulging and herniated discs, including cervical, thoracic, and lumbar. The really bad ones are four herniations in the thoracic region, between my shoulder blades. Great. Super.

Surgery? Nope. The damage is too extensive. So what now doc?

No heavy lifting or bending. Huh?  He looked me in the eyes. No floor nursing. 

I felt my entire world crumble. Critical care requires a whole lot of heavy lifting. Sh*t.

Well, I talked to my nurse manager, and she talked to human resources. I felt sure that they would find a position for me that I could physically handle. I mean, it’s a big hospital, and they’ve invested tons of time and money into my professional development.

Nope. After hem-hawing around for a couple of weeks, and multiple trips to the doc for more tests and to fill out a mountain of forms, HR asked for my resignation. I told them I wasn’t resigning, I was asking for a new placement. They responded that anyone working with patients had to be able to do heavy lifting, but I was eligible for rehire if the doc released me from the lifting/bending restriction. I asked the doc when that would be. He said never.

And thus descended the blue funk of all blue funks. Sleeping too much. Playing silly computer games to pass the time. Watching really dumb stuff on TV. That Jerry Springer Show is mind-numbingly idiotic, I’ll tell ya. Staring at the big pile of books I was using to study for the critical care certification, gathering dust on the kitchen table. 

Bummed that no one…not one person…from my work has called to see how I am. I thought these nurses were my peeps, and that shared death and blood and tears had forged a bond between us. I guess not.  Ouch.  

At my lowest ebb, I thought screw it! Just go on disability.

No.

I’ve seen what happens to vibrant, active people who “go on disability”. 

No. No thanks. 

Most of my friends here have faced more adversity than I ever will, and not only survived, but thrived.  You are all probably rolling your eyes at my petty, total surmountable crapola. Hell, I’m rolling my eyes at myself! What a self-absorbed little crybaby I’ve become!

I stand ashamed and embarrassed; trying to wrestle on my Big Girl Panties and catch the Suck It Up train before it leaves the station.

@#$!

So.

This weekend I will polish up my resume, and Monday I WILL get up early, don my most professional outfit, put on a confident smile, and go job hunting.

Oh, and no more Jerry Springer. 

Ever.