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I exercised tremendous restraint today by eating one FOURTH of a maple frosted donut with sprinkles at work.
I survived one of the most mentally draining and sad weeks I've had at work in a long time.
I compensated for only eating 1/4 of the donut by eating, oh, FOUR, rolls with cinnamon butter at Texas Roadhouse. Plus potatoes. And steak, and a salad covered in Ranch dressing.
Did you know Sunday is my baby's first Easter outside of the uterus? Isn't that exciting?
I love different opinions, and I love it when grown adults can have civil conversations about said different opinions.
New comments and followers on my blog make me wanna party like it's 1999.
Even though I haven't blogged about the Duggars for a while, they still cross my mind at least once a day (ridiculous, I know...) and I remain baffled. I hope they do something that's blog worthy soon because I'm starting to feel withdrawls from not blogging about them.
Internet etiquette 101: WRITING EVERYTHING IN ALL CAPS IS ONE OF THE MOST COMMON FORMS OF BAD ETIQUETTE ONLINE.
I loved every stinking bite of those delectable rolls. Eating so many was one of the smartest things I did all day. And I'm not being sarcastic.
Just in case you didn't know, Will Ferrell rocks my face off.
Choosing not to engage in silly arguments about things that don't matter is not bad etiquette. It's called healthy boundaries and being a mature grown-up who wears big girl panties.
I have 6 days in a ROW off from work, starting tomorrow, and I couldn't be happier about it. What, WHAT!!!
My feet stink.
If I don't respond to your comments on my blog, don't feel blue. Half the time I don't even remember to respond to emails from my own family, so don't take it personal. I promise that I still read every single comment that you write.
Blog drama is for the birds - you won't find that here.
Book 2 in the Twilight series is calling my name, so I'm signing off for the night.
You stay classy, San Diego.
Showing posts with label social work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label social work. Show all posts
Friday, April 10, 2009
Monday, April 6, 2009
Tuesday's Tribute - To the hurting
I've tried real hard not to make a habit of writing my blog posts at midnight.
I mean, although Kaylee knows how to sleep through the night, she hasn't exactly made a habit out of it, so I like to get to bed at a decent hour so I'm all ready to fight the battle of poopy diapers or old ladies with walkers (working at home, or working at the hospital), depending on the day.
But today - today I'm writing my post at midnight. Because tonight is different.
In case you're new around here, I work part-time as a hospital social worker. This week just so happens to be my week on call.
It's 5:30 p.m. and I've got a pot of spaghetti noodles and a skillet with meat sauce bubbling away on the stove. I'm in my comfy pajamas, and that dag blasted friggin' pager goes off. Two more minutes and I'd have been on the couch enjoying some Italiano and watching Sunday's episode of Celebrity Apprentice.
But....no.
From time to time, I whine and complain about my struggle with balancing work and home. I've even been known to complain about having to go in to work at all (or, God forbid, having to work a whopping four days in a row *gasp*).
But, the truth is, in such a time as this, I should keep my yapper shut. I'm very thankful to have a job when there are so many out there looking and looking, but not finding.
My job gives me the flexibility to stay home part of the time and be with my baby while she's still a baby. But, my job also means there are a lot of messed up people out there, and it's my job to try and help them.
Tonight I saw a lady who tried to end her own life. Thankfully, she didn't, and she ended up agreeing to go and get some help. So, tonight I can't just come home and go to sleep. I'm wide awake, and I need to do something to get my mind off of her problems.
Sometimes I wonder why I chose the job I did.
I see some really terrible things. Moms who smoke crack while they drive to the hospital to deliver their babies (no joke), people who commit such despicable crimes that they are cuffed to the bed rails, people who come in over and over again after being beat up by their boyfriends, babies who are covered in bruises, people who ruin their own lives (and the lives of everyone who loves them) with alcohol and drugs. It just goes on and on and on.
Why, oh WHY would I choose a job where I'm surrounded by these things?
Fairly regularly, I ask myself this very question, but I don't contemplate it for long, because from the moment I chose to be a social worker, I knew I was right where I needed to be. Even if, some days, I feel like I'm learning to ride a bike for the first time.
To be completely honest with you, on my way into the hospital tonight, I was afraid I might get the doodies. I was so nervous. I've been trained, I've dealt with really complicated patients before, I know what I'm doing, but I still get scared. I just never know what to expect.
Well, I didn't crap my pants (I always try to find the positive side of things...). I did just fine, but I think it's been a while since I've said so many prayers in one day.
So, about 6 hours later, a lady who was ready to end it all is probably still ready to end it all, but at least she's safe for the time being. She's getting help. And I'm praying that she will accept it and that she'll realize she needs to help herself.
This week, my tribute is to my patients - everyone from the 87-year-olds who trip over rugs in the bathroom, fracture their hips and need rehab, to the 16-year-olds who are high on meth and need a whole different kind of rehab.
You are the reason I have a job. Believe it or not, you're the reason I have a job that I LOVE. Many of you piss me off to no end, and I have no patience for you.
Then, there are others of you that I can only have compassion for, that I can only hope the very best for you, those of you who I truly, truly hope will someday be okay...
I mean, although Kaylee knows how to sleep through the night, she hasn't exactly made a habit out of it, so I like to get to bed at a decent hour so I'm all ready to fight the battle of poopy diapers or old ladies with walkers (working at home, or working at the hospital), depending on the day.
But today - today I'm writing my post at midnight. Because tonight is different.
In case you're new around here, I work part-time as a hospital social worker. This week just so happens to be my week on call.
It's 5:30 p.m. and I've got a pot of spaghetti noodles and a skillet with meat sauce bubbling away on the stove. I'm in my comfy pajamas, and that dag blasted friggin' pager goes off. Two more minutes and I'd have been on the couch enjoying some Italiano and watching Sunday's episode of Celebrity Apprentice.
But....no.
From time to time, I whine and complain about my struggle with balancing work and home. I've even been known to complain about having to go in to work at all (or, God forbid, having to work a whopping four days in a row *gasp*).
But, the truth is, in such a time as this, I should keep my yapper shut. I'm very thankful to have a job when there are so many out there looking and looking, but not finding.
My job gives me the flexibility to stay home part of the time and be with my baby while she's still a baby. But, my job also means there are a lot of messed up people out there, and it's my job to try and help them.
Tonight I saw a lady who tried to end her own life. Thankfully, she didn't, and she ended up agreeing to go and get some help. So, tonight I can't just come home and go to sleep. I'm wide awake, and I need to do something to get my mind off of her problems.
Sometimes I wonder why I chose the job I did.
I see some really terrible things. Moms who smoke crack while they drive to the hospital to deliver their babies (no joke), people who commit such despicable crimes that they are cuffed to the bed rails, people who come in over and over again after being beat up by their boyfriends, babies who are covered in bruises, people who ruin their own lives (and the lives of everyone who loves them) with alcohol and drugs. It just goes on and on and on.
Why, oh WHY would I choose a job where I'm surrounded by these things?
Fairly regularly, I ask myself this very question, but I don't contemplate it for long, because from the moment I chose to be a social worker, I knew I was right where I needed to be. Even if, some days, I feel like I'm learning to ride a bike for the first time.
To be completely honest with you, on my way into the hospital tonight, I was afraid I might get the doodies. I was so nervous. I've been trained, I've dealt with really complicated patients before, I know what I'm doing, but I still get scared. I just never know what to expect.
Well, I didn't crap my pants (I always try to find the positive side of things...). I did just fine, but I think it's been a while since I've said so many prayers in one day.
So, about 6 hours later, a lady who was ready to end it all is probably still ready to end it all, but at least she's safe for the time being. She's getting help. And I'm praying that she will accept it and that she'll realize she needs to help herself.
This week, my tribute is to my patients - everyone from the 87-year-olds who trip over rugs in the bathroom, fracture their hips and need rehab, to the 16-year-olds who are high on meth and need a whole different kind of rehab.
You are the reason I have a job. Believe it or not, you're the reason I have a job that I LOVE. Many of you piss me off to no end, and I have no patience for you.
Then, there are others of you that I can only have compassion for, that I can only hope the very best for you, those of you who I truly, truly hope will someday be okay...
Friday, December 5, 2008
She Works Hard for the Money
I love the fact that I work 2 or 3 days a week and get to stay home with Kaylee the other days, but on days when I go to work, I often feel discombobulated.
Take tonight, for instance. I go to work, work all day, get off at 4:30, pick Kaylee up at 4:45, go to the store, pick up dinner, and get home at about 6. Play with baby, eat dinner, put baby to bed. Hubby is in bed. Laundry from yesterday is still in the washer and dryer. Dishes are piling up in the sink (HATE that...), and I'm just trying to unwind and not having much luck with it. And I feel too lazy to do the laundry or the dishes. I am out of motivation and out of energy.
Tonight is also the first night I'm "on call" for work. I'm actually training with another social worker to be on call in the Emergency Department. They say you don't sleep well at all the week you're on call, and now I know what they mean. I'm just sitting here wondering if I'll get paged, and I'm contemplating how pissed I'll be if I get paged approximately 4 minutes after I fall asleep. Seriously - I'll be a bit upset. Ok, a lot upset. But then I'll remind myself that I get paid time and a half if I get called in. A little cash money around the holidays never hurt a girl.
I love my job because it's never the same. One day I help an 82-year-old get into the nursing home, and the next day I'm calling CPS because a mother admitted to doing crack on her way to the hospital to have her baby. Today proved to be another interesting day. It's never dull.
First, there was the 50-something alcoholic who said he's trying to drink himself to death (and who, unfortunately, doesn't realize that when you reposition yourself and don't have your hospital gown pulled down correctly and the blanket over you enough, you flash the whole room! Sh*t, people! This is why I became a social worker and not a nurse. I want to be in people's business - not SEE their business. Ah...life in the hospital...). That was sad, but it was also a vicious cycle that he's been dealing with his whole life. You feel bad for them, but then you realize that in all reality, they'll probably never change (I know, I'm pretty young to be so cynical, but it's true - and yes, I know there's always exceptions to the rule).
Then there was the college kid who was very sick. Mentally. It was heart breaking. It just makes me sad that mental illnesses like schizophrenia and paranoia even exist. I just pray that medication can give this kid a somewhat of a normal life.
My work gives me a chance to step out of "mommy mode." I get to use a different part of my brain and interact with other adults. And I think it's good for Kaylee to interact with another adult every now and then, too. We all need a break. But still, I wonder if I'll ever get a better handle on balancing work and home. It's not easy mixing the two.
How about you? Are you a stay-at-home mom? Do you work outside the home? How long was it before you felt like you had a handle on balancing stuff, or are you like me, and you're still not there quite yet?
I honestly wouldn't want it any other way. I wouldn't want to be home full time, and I wouldn't want to work full-time, but I'm just still not quite sure how to balance both. Oh well.
Take tonight, for instance. I go to work, work all day, get off at 4:30, pick Kaylee up at 4:45, go to the store, pick up dinner, and get home at about 6. Play with baby, eat dinner, put baby to bed. Hubby is in bed. Laundry from yesterday is still in the washer and dryer. Dishes are piling up in the sink (HATE that...), and I'm just trying to unwind and not having much luck with it. And I feel too lazy to do the laundry or the dishes. I am out of motivation and out of energy.
Tonight is also the first night I'm "on call" for work. I'm actually training with another social worker to be on call in the Emergency Department. They say you don't sleep well at all the week you're on call, and now I know what they mean. I'm just sitting here wondering if I'll get paged, and I'm contemplating how pissed I'll be if I get paged approximately 4 minutes after I fall asleep. Seriously - I'll be a bit upset. Ok, a lot upset. But then I'll remind myself that I get paid time and a half if I get called in. A little cash money around the holidays never hurt a girl.
I love my job because it's never the same. One day I help an 82-year-old get into the nursing home, and the next day I'm calling CPS because a mother admitted to doing crack on her way to the hospital to have her baby. Today proved to be another interesting day. It's never dull.
First, there was the 50-something alcoholic who said he's trying to drink himself to death (and who, unfortunately, doesn't realize that when you reposition yourself and don't have your hospital gown pulled down correctly and the blanket over you enough, you flash the whole room! Sh*t, people! This is why I became a social worker and not a nurse. I want to be in people's business - not SEE their business. Ah...life in the hospital...). That was sad, but it was also a vicious cycle that he's been dealing with his whole life. You feel bad for them, but then you realize that in all reality, they'll probably never change (I know, I'm pretty young to be so cynical, but it's true - and yes, I know there's always exceptions to the rule).
Then there was the college kid who was very sick. Mentally. It was heart breaking. It just makes me sad that mental illnesses like schizophrenia and paranoia even exist. I just pray that medication can give this kid a somewhat of a normal life.
My work gives me a chance to step out of "mommy mode." I get to use a different part of my brain and interact with other adults. And I think it's good for Kaylee to interact with another adult every now and then, too. We all need a break. But still, I wonder if I'll ever get a better handle on balancing work and home. It's not easy mixing the two.
How about you? Are you a stay-at-home mom? Do you work outside the home? How long was it before you felt like you had a handle on balancing stuff, or are you like me, and you're still not there quite yet?
I honestly wouldn't want it any other way. I wouldn't want to be home full time, and I wouldn't want to work full-time, but I'm just still not quite sure how to balance both. Oh well.
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