September 29, 2009

Breast Update

Once again, I went to bed last night to discover my four year-old growing roots on my husband's side of the bed. Apparently, while my husband's back was turned my son came out of his room, pillow in hand, and went to sleep in my room after diligently discarding my husband's pillow in his. Here's the thing about sleeping with my son, the dog won't sleep with us, so not only is there one less adult in my bed but there is also one less 70 pound basset-hound. Needless to say, I slept well, that is until a little crazy-haired girl woke me up at my bedside at one o'clock in the morning. Was she waiting for an invitation? Apparently. I still don't get why she stands there staring at me without utterly a single word. So I told her to climb in with her dad. We were full up. (I'm not mean, I swear-I was half asleep)

After an eventful night of musical beds, we all overslept, I was almost late for my ultrasound and my husband and I politely spoke profanities to one another so mommy and daddy appeared to be having a nice conversation. The fight stemmed from my husband agreeing to wake me and then waking me up late. His excuse, "I'm not your alarm clock." Why the hell would you agree to wake someone up if you weren't going to wake them up on time, I ask you? Is this the estrogen in me talking, or am I missing something here?

The ultrasound—that I almost missed—went well; I have three cysts in my left breast which were quote not sinister, but need to be followed up because they can sometimes turn into something more problematic. I am having frequent pain in my breast which they don't seem to be concerned with, I guess I am supposed to be grateful that it's not cancer and ignore the discomfort. I am grateful, don't get me wrong, but I would also like the pain to be alleviated. Am I being greedy? Perhaps.

September 28, 2009

Procrastinating Again

I completed my first clinical in June; I did not have to report for work with the military until almost the end of August and I had no idea what to do with the time in between. Ok, so I had a couple of ideas, but to be fair, I offered to get a part-time job since I was on leave without pay until my reporting date. Totally playing the martyr. To my absolute amazement, my husband, who I am completely undeserving of, said, "Why don't you take the summer off and write,” and that is exactly what I did—sort of. I quickly discovered that having oodles of time puts me in a creative funk. Why is it then when you are ready and able to write, you just can't seem to put pen to paper?

So here I am, knee deep in pathophysiology (I have a test Wednesday), worried about my breast ultrasound (tomorrow) and the characters that I have flushed out for my new book will not shut the hell up. I would bitch slap them if I could, I mean, couldn't they pick a more appropriate time to walk through scenes in my head. Seriously. When I get on an idea there is nothing that will silence the voices in my head. It almost makes me feel psychotic. Do all writers feel this way?

It’s not that patho isn’t interesting, because it kind of is, especially the intentional and unintentional injuries section. I keep thinking ‘CSI’ while I am reading it. There are various pictures of stab wounds, fractures, contusions and lacerations, etc, as well as gun shot wounds and the defining characteristics of close and long range entrance wounds and exit wounds. Very interesting. It kind of makes me wish I was knowledgeable enough to attempt a novel of the crime/mystery genre, but thus far I have stuck with fantasy and the paranormal.

Clearly I am procrastinating, and it must end. I have an early morning and several chapters more to read and study, so until next time…….

September 25, 2009

Stick it to ya!

After your first year in nursing you are qualified to do several things. Are these things exciting? NO, NO, NO, and NO. During my first clinical, I could help someone go to the bathroom, give them a bed bath, check vitals and change beds. All meaningful and necessary tasks that I like to refer to as the 'shit work,' which is actually pretty literal. Instantly, I recall wiping the ass of a gentleman with a hernia- think nuts the size of bowling balls. The only great thing about clinical is that you are assigned to only one or two patients, so you have more opportunity to get to know them, and as a result, devote more time and care to each.

In second year we get to the good stuff. Like needles. Ahhh. I hate receiving needles but I feel strangely excited about the prospect of giving them—must be my inner sadist talking. In out first needle lab today we were taught about subcutaneous injections. I assumed it would be easy, it wasn't as if we were trying to hit a vein or anything, just jabbing flesh. No biggie, right? If I had been tested today, I would have failed miserably. At one point my needle flew off of the syringe and almost landed on my neighbor. Good thing it wasn't used, but I think she still contemplating moving to another table.

When they said, "You really have to push on the needle to make sure it's secure,' they weren't shitting me. So, after learning this valuable lesson, I moved on to drawing up a needle. Air bubbles galore. And injecting the pad (mock flesh) felt very awkward. It wasn't as easy as I thought to administer medication while trying to keep the needle perfectly still, because too much movement hurts and hurting people is bad—so they say. I say, "Man up people! It only lasts thirty seconds at the most! Needles are supposed to hurt. If someone says differently, they’re lying!”

Just so you don’t think I should choose another career path, I would like to note that I have a tendency to complain and exaggerate—just a little—for effect. I am actually quite compassionate—most of the time.

September 23, 2009

The Feminine Appointment

Each year, we ladies are encouraged to attend an appointment where we are vaginally probed with scary-looking metal objects and swabs. Most of us, assume this to be the worse of it. What could possibly be worse, right? Here's your answer. Submitting to a breast exam only to find out that you have not one, but two lumps in one of your breasts.

Now, I am 32 and I'm thinking, "So, what. Even if it's cancer, they'll cut it out and that'll be the end of it. I mean, I'm 32. It's only the size of a pea. I'll live."

So when I share my lack of immediate concern with my care provider, I was surprised when she said, "You should still be concerned."


What do you say to that? I am not sure how I feel about it. I'll wait for the ultrasound before I get too worked up about it. At least, that was my intention until my dad and husband starting making more of it than they needed to. I probably should have kept it to myself.

Wednesday's test is a long way away. But, odds are good that it is nothing rather than something. And I like my odds.

September 21, 2009

My Stupid Creative Inconsistencies

My creativity is so inconsistent. There are days, weeks even, when I get nothing. And then there are days that my mind is busier than a liquor store on New Year's Eve, and these thoughts don't adhere to normal working hours. For example, I was awoken at 0330 this morning to a slew of great ideas for my new book. 0330 IN THE FREAKIN MORNING. There are those that would get out of bed and diligently write down these blessed ideas before they drift away into Never Neverland. Alas, I have a three year-old girl and a four-year old boy and have been sleep deprived for going on four and a half freakin years. So, did I get out of bed? Hell no. Instead, I said over and over to myself, Commit to memory, Commit to memory, and then rolled my ass over and went back to sleep before feeling a pair of eyes on me at 0530. My daughter doesn't wake me up. All three and half menacing feet of her just stands silently at my bedside, staring at me through the darkness until I open my eyes to discover her silhouette. It's kind of creepy. Cute, but creepy.

September 18, 2009

Website Counter

So, being insecure and desperately seeking acceptance and encouragement, I decided to add a counter to my website. Good or bad? I have had five hits. Only two members of my family and one friend know about my blog site, so that means there are two complete strangers out there who may or not be interested in what I have to say. Woohoo! It doesn't even matter if it is the former of the latter. How bad do I suck that I am excited over that? I have had a perma-smile all day.

My husband affectionately rolls his eyes over my excitement and says 'I'm happy that your happy', when what the bastard really means is 'my life is easier when you are happy'-I am admittedly not the easiest person to live with. To illustrate this fact, my father actually said in his speech at my wedding, 'she's yours now, and I don't want her back.' Teasing? I don't entirely think so. There is always a hint of truth to delivered jokes. But, I am sure he meant his "no refunds" comment with the utmost love. Yeah, right. We kind of have a love-hate relationship. Plus, he's British and British people tell it like it is, no bullshit. I both love and hate this about my parents.

On the writing front, I have yet to start my next book. Pathophysiology and pharmacology are kicking my ass with readings. Based on some valuable advice from authors-not first hand-I am going to start working on some character charts tomorrow. I did this with the novel that I finished this summer-only a first draft, I have never been published- and I really found it helped develop my characters much more than if I had not. It also gave me more material to work with while I was writing.

So until tomorrow......

September 17, 2009

Peggy's Cove

Seeing as how my tutorials for school don't begin until next week, I had today all to myself. I was on the road by 0830. Foolish me thought, "Gosh, everything is probably closed." Not that it mattered, my purpose was to take pictures and do some research. Was I ever wrong. I felt like there was a senior citizen's conference going on. Curly-haired old ladies and white-haired men with cameras were thicker than flies. Six tour buses were there--off-loaded from the four cruise ships in Halifax Harbour. For the first time in years, I felt young. And it was FABULOUS. Being a mature student at university certainly makes you question your youth.

I had breakfast at the Sou'wester and spent some time observing people and writing about the restaurant/gift shop/hotel and the surrounding area. I ordered poached eggs. A man to my right with a southern U.S. accent ordered home-made gingerbread loaf with lemon sauce. It wasn't on the menu and yet, less than five minutes later it was sitting in front of him and I was salivating. He had clearly been there before. Don't you hate how other people's food always looks more appetizing than yours?

All in all, it was a good day. The hour long drive there allowed me to think through the plot of my book, and I got some great ideas and photos. One thing that struck me most about the drive there was the fact that there were random boulders everywhere. It looked as if they been thrown up all over the rocky, bracken-filled landscape.

So here are some of my spoils. Enjoy! And keep in mind, I am not a photographer.

September 16, 2009

Field Trip

Today was a good day. I discovered that my previous career as an NCM (non-commissioned member) in the Naval Reserves is sufficient enough for me to bypass my Basic Military Officer Qualification. Read "Basic Training". Been there, done that and bought the t-shirt--literally. It was mentally and physically exhausting in my twenties and I can only imagine how much harder it would have been in my thirties. Bullet averted.

At present, the military employs me to be a student. I will owe them four years of service upon graduation. I am in my second week of my second year of nursing school. Fortunately, because I have a previous degree, I only need to take three courses this term which leaves me ample time to read, write and spend some quality time with the kids. Tomorrow I am planning on taking a drive up to Peggy's Cove as research for a new book I have been on the edge of writing. My husband is out buying a new camera as I write so that I can take pictures of my expedition. Our old one kind of dissects photos so that the bottom and top halves don't match up. They look photoshopped.

I am hoping that my travels down the south shore tomorrow will be fruitful and help me find the perfect setting for my novel. I will be sure to share pictures if I can figure out how to upload them. This blogging thing is rather new to me.

September 15, 2009

Why blog?

When I've applied myself, I have never failed at anything that I have ever attempted. This does not mean that I have been great at everything I've tried, it merely means that I have not failed. I have gone through life being average and adequate. I desperately want to be good at something and to believe that I am good at that something. Doesn't everyone want this?

My passion is writing, but loving something doesn't necessarily make you good at it. All the training and education in the world might make me a better writer but that doesn't mean I will ever be good enough to be published or write compelling enough material for someone to read my stories cover to cover.

This blog is an outlet for me to write anonymously until I have the courage to sign my name to my work. It is also an opportunity for others, like me, to share their insecurities and their pursuit for that something that excites them. When did you find your something? And what did you do with that knowledge? If you haven't found your something, what do you intend to do about it?