...And in the air, the fireflies, our only light in paradise. We'll show the world that they were wrong, and teach them all to sing along; singing Amen I, I'm alive. Amen I, I'm alive...

- Nickelback, If Everyone Cared

For All The Right Reasons Album

And I'm singing Aaa-ayyy-men, I'm alive!

William Leonidas November 12th, 2009
My only regret is that I cried so many tears while I waited for you.

"...I'll try ~ but it's so hard to believe. I'll try ~ but I can't see what you see. I'll try and try to understand the distance between the love I feel ~ the thing I fear ~ and every single dream. I can finally see it. Now I have to believe all those precious stories. All the world is made of faith ~ and trust ~ and pixie dust. So I'll try ~ because I finally believe. I'll try ~ because I can see what you see. I'll try, I'll try ~ to fly..."

Jonatha Brooke "I'll try"

Fear thou not, for I am with thee; be not dismayed, for I am thy God; I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness. Isaiah 41:10

Now the word of the Lord came to me saying, "Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you..." Jeremiah 1:4-5

For Thou didst form my inward parts; Thou didst weave me in my mother's womb. I will give thanks to Thee for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; wonderful are Thy works, and my soul knows it very well. Psalms 139:13-14

Monday March 5th, 2010

So Why Stinkerie?

It's simple, really. It's the first thing I whispered against my newborn little Dumpling's temple as I held him alone for that very first time. "There's my Little Stinkerie." And all was right with the world as I brushed my lips across his delicate dewy soft newborn-pink skin and sniffed at his sparse smattering of downy soft hair. Corny and sappy, huh? I can't help it when describing my new Little Puppy. But don't get used to it - I have been told I am "irreverent."

Anyway, it just came out and he's been Stinkerie ever since. As well as Stink Pie, Stink Pot, Stinkey Pete, Little Stinks, Stinks, Puppy, Ducky, Baby, Baby Head, Baby Head Jenkins, Jack, Jack-Jack, Jackie Boy, Jax, Snork, Snorkis, Snorkle, Billy Boy, Billy Bob, Bobby Sue, Billy-Joe-Jim-Bob, Will, Willie, Willister, and the name given by my mentor turned friend Beth - Snake. When I write to her I call him either The Snakester or Slither! And of course, Dumpling, because he is my Little Dumpling - warm and soft and comforting. It's alright to combine comfort food with baby names, right? Have you ever watched the movie Where the Heart Is? If you have, you'll know why I mention this in my defense!

Long story short, you're likely to encounter any one or more of these names in a single post. Because I can. It's my blog!

Something to Consider

Bad decisions make good stories.

Something to Think About

With any pregnancy, there are concerns. With any child, there are worries. When you have a diagnosis of Down syndrome, you know what to worry about. You know what to look for. You have a plan of action. With your typical child, there is no limit to the things that can 'go wrong' or 'happen.' There's no place to focus your worry and concerns. 'IT' will always be out there, waiting. You'll always be on guard. Even when the child is 55 and has grandchildren. With Down syndrome we have a battle plan. With Down syndrome, there is a finite number of things that can go awry. With a typical child, there's isn't. It's a crap shoot. I'm sticking with the Ds and taking the other two back to the hospital for a refund.

Head Above Water

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Monday, June 6, 2011

I Got Canned

So, after my fun and friendly office mate and I spent a good deal of time hashing out what we'd each been told in orientation and compared it to the reality of the demands being made of us, she summed up the conversation by fulfilling a promise she'd made to me back in early February, to tell me first if she was leaving. "I'm putting in applications every where. I have three interviews set up. I can't do this anymore. They keep demanding more and more for the same crappy pay. They never say 'thank you,' or 'good job,' or give any sort of reinforcement for our efforts. They just keep piling more and more on our work loads, which would be fine if they were paying us for it." Dang. I knew it would happen eventually, but she was the one bright spot in all the office hours this job demands.

On Tuesday, after the Memorial Day Holiday, I went to my office manager to air my concerns. The biggest concern I had was about being on-call. Yes, they did say I'd be on-call every other weekend. They never mentioned that I would not be paid for it. I was supposed to alternate with my office mate every other weekend. Our Director of Clinical Services, or DOC, whom I'd long ago taken to thinking of as a rabid squirrel with a drinking problem was supposed to be on call Monday through Thursday from 6 pm to 8 am. The reality of it was that my office mate and I were getting calls all night, every night. Within the first month of starting at that company, the DOCS wasn't taking call at all. Ever. Not weekdays. Not weekends. The next big gripe was being sent out to homes for nurses who only work 11pm-7am to do their evaluations and competencies, only to have the nurse refuse because "Why isn't the DOCS doing this? That's her job, not yours. You aren't even my supervisor, so how can you do my evaluation?" My standard answer became that the DOCS brought this to me today/yesterday and said it had to be completed no later than today or you will be out of compliance and will not be allowed to work. Which led to my next gripe. The DOCS has the LVN's requirements months in advance of no later than today/tomorrow, and she demands that our schedules for the following week be turned in the previous week, yet time and again, she'd fly into our little office in a tizzy and demand that we both rearrange appointments we'd made with families weeks in advance because "If you don't get this done by tomorrow, that nurse will not be allowed to work!" She completely put the entire responsibility for our LVN's livelihoods on us, instead of on her own incompetence where it belonged. We knew it was wrong. The LVNs knew it was wrong. The DOCS knew this would send us on a mad scramble to change dates and times with all of our families, often pushing our visits into the dinner and bedtime hours, and us scrounging up childcare for the middle of the night to go see a nurse who didn't start her shift until 11pm. The families didn't like it, the LVNs hated it, and as the RN, we got the brunt of all their frustrations. Funny how the office manager knew nothing of this. That was Tuesday afternoon. He left on vacation late Wednesday. I was called into the DOCS' office Thursday morning with the "This just isn't working out. You're not happy here and we both know you aren't. It's just not a good fit" speech. She slid my final check across the desk and I rose to leave. "Thank you!" she said cheerfully. I said, "Well, I wish I could say that it's been a pleasure, but it hasn't and we both know that it hasn't." And I packed up my pencil cup, bottom drawer snacks stash and my desk-top fan and left.

All the way home I tried very hard to be upset about this. It didn't work. I wasn't upset. I finally called my office mate, who was just leaving a patient's home, and told her that I'd just been fired. "You are joking, right?" I said no, I wasn't joking. She asked if I'd been given a reason, in light of the obvious lack of a valid reason, and I repeated what the rabid squirrel had said. She was the one to point out how very typical it was for the rabid squirrel to wait until I'd turned in all three of my recerts before she fired me. We bantered for a while about just how much this company really does suck and she finally said more than asked, "You really aren't joking, are you?" So we hung up with promises to keep in touch and her parting words were, "Well, congratulations! I'll see you next week for Willie's recert!"

I was home by ten am. I took a wonderful nap and then raced out the door for a 12:15 interview. I was quite pleased to call Katee, Willie's LVN, to tell her I'd landed the job. When I casually mentioned that I'd gotten canned, she was immediately worried about losing Willie. Until I'd gotten hired at this interview, I was worried about Willie losing her. We love her. We don't want to lose her. I'm not entirely sure what the pay is, but it's local, so no more hour long commutes to the office. That's good for at least $600.00 in gas every four weeks. And it's all intermittent visits, no supervision, no case management, no nurses getting ticked at me for correcting their notes, no middle of the night phone calls, no massive amounts of Q/A, no putting up with the continual PMS of the recruiters, and best of all - no rabid squirrel. It's win-win. And I waited a full 34 hours before I told The Dearly Beloved. It went something like, "Oh yeah! I forgot to tell you that I got fired yesterday! But not to worry, I start at a new job Monday!"

"...I still hate my job.
My bosses are *icks.
I don't get paid nearly enough
to put up with all of their *hit..."
~Theory of a Deadman
I Hate my Life,
Scars and Souvenirs Album


Becca said...

Oh, wow, that sucks and is awesome all at the same time! Congrats all around!

CJ said...

Hey, if you have to get canned, that's the way to do it! Good luck at the new job!