Baggage @ MindSay 
So many of my coworkers seem to have less insight than most farm animals, and as a result, I am left mucking around through all of their collective "issues", making my job immeasurably more difficult than if I could just do what it is that I am there to do, which is take care of the patients. At least with the patients, their problems are named, diagnosed, and out in the open. This makes it possible to navigate with some idea of an appropriate direction regarding how best to accomplish whatever it is that I need to do with them. For example, if they are diagnosed with depression and PTSD, I know that I need to be gentle with them, encouraging, and provide them with a sense of safety so that they can more easily trust that I am working for their interests whenever doing any teaching or trying to convince them to do something difficult. But there is no heads up warning that say, the LPN I have to work with has severe insecurities, father issues, and a faltering ego, thereby assuring an awful day to follow if she requires any constructive criticism or professional guidance from me. I will undoubtedly get to play the bad guy in her little mental scenario, and this, along with any other factors causing her to perceive any slights against her that day, make for a very long shift.
It is my absolute opinion that professionals should check their crap at the door. All hang-ups, insecurities, mood disorders, and nasty attitudes or opinions of the world around them would be so beneficial to leave behind before employees walk through the door to their workplaces. It gets so very old dealing with people. Of course, I suppose I should never have become a nurse if this is my general attitude. But as I said, the patients are the least of my problems. I have absolutely no difficulty dealing with them. The problem I have, as previously stated, is dealing with my coworkers. That isn't to say that there aren't some whom I absolutely adore working with. In fact, I enjoy the majority of people with whom I work. But the problem is that it only takes a very few bad eggs to spoil the salad. And they always do.
No one is perfect, and the last thing I would ever expect is perfection. I simply want a tablespoon of insight, some overriding bit of knowledge within the gray matter of even one or two of the brains of my coworkers that might suggest to them a small amount of censoring when dealing with their overly emotional rantings and general reactions to those around them. If they could just once say to themselves, "Gee, I AM at work, and as such, perhaps this isn't the most optimal place for me to rant loudly about another coworkers offhanded comment about their political viewpoint, or their religious affiliation, or even their muttered opinion about childrearing." Because sometimes people just say stuff. And if you aren't adult enough to be able to overhear a comment not even directed at you and just let it go quietly, then in my mind, you aren't adult enough to have a paying job, at least not one that allows you to have mortgage and car payment. Perhaps if you are that fragile, wearing your opinions so openly, a paper-route or another similar job would be more your speed than say, a career?
This doesn't even take into consideration the reactions of others to comments that are, in fact, directed at them. When I have to mention to a coworker at a psychiatric facility that perhaps it isn't the best idea to curse out a patient, or to give out protected, medically sensitive information about a patient to some person who hasn't even identified themselves on the telephone, I actually must first decide how bad of a day I wish to have. Because people are so f--king fragile that I know if any of these insights are handed down, I will no doubt be dealing with the wrath of my comments, regardless of how gently they are made, for at least the remainder of the day, if not for the rest of the week! When did people become so sensitive? So unable to self-censor? To see their own actions through a filter not completely clogged up with the gunk of their daily lives up until the point at which I encounter them? These aren't difficult insights. People just seem unable to have any at all. The baggage of others is bogging my daily life down to the point that it is often difficult to even navigate across the floor. And I am getting very tired of tripping over everything.
Saturday started a bit slower than Friday. We hung around the house for a bit before heading out to the art museum. It was so great. I was getting filled with creative ideas at every turn. There was an awesome digital moving exhibit called City Glow by Chiho Aoshima. OMG! It was amazing. We got to see a whole heap of art. Myclette, her hubby, and her daughter were all there.
After, we split off into different directions. Her hubby went to the movies, her daughter to grandmom's, and we headed out to get Environgirl and hit up the Chinese buffet. The food there was awesome. I had enough sushi to last me till my next craving haha. After that we all headed to the karaoke bar where we met up with a bunch of other bloggers *that I mentioned before*. Fave and Eve came in a bit later, but not by much. It was so much fun. I sang Fiona Apple's Criminal and Reba McIntyre's Why Haven't I Heard From You. I also made friends with the fantastic DJ Charlie. Such good times!
Alas, it was finally time to go home. The next day I would be heading out to my plane to go home...or so I thought.
Sunday started nice enough. We went to the store and bought some Blue Bell ice cream as well as a new do for me. We headed back to the house for lunch. Cajun style spaghetti cooked by Myclette's husband ... talk about delicious!!! I like to died ha. The ice cream was great, too. I was already packed up, so we headed out to the airport and got there in plenty of time.
They left me at the Delta gate and went home. I had to go in and find that my flight had been delayed. Turns out I would have to sit from 4pm to after 6 to get on my flight. I missed my connecting flight by ONE MINUTE and had to get a new flight rerouting me to Philly instead of Delaware so I could get picked up by my husband who had to work today. I went through 2 lines for 2 more hours of fun getting my flight and hotel situated, getting some food, then having to check in at the hotel with at least 100 other people after we FINALLY got on the shuttle to the hotel. I didn't get to bed till after midnight. *4 hours after we landed in ATL*. This morning everything went fine with the flight. It was packed to the brim.
Hubby and I had a time getting back to our car, but an hour later we were in it heading to the Delaware airport to get my bag which hadn't reached them yet. HOW ANNOYING >__< I had to wait till the flight I would have taken at 3pm to Delaware landed to see if my bag was on it. I got notified at 7:20pm that it was at the terminal and I went to pick it up an hour later. Thank God it came on the plane it was set to be on or I would have been beside myself.
I can't describe the feelings I had last night. I couldn't even speak without my voice being raspy from trying to hold back screams and sobs. I kept my cool mostly, other than a few tears of frustration. All in all Texas was great. I dont want to be on another plane for at least another year.
.Sometimes I wonder if the location is worth the price I pay to take their extra baggage on the flight.
.And then they smile. And I pay for the tickets. The gentleman always pays no matter how much it hurts the wallet in his breast pocket.
Things are happening so fast! Saturday I received the satellite phone (courtesy of Telestial). Sunday I bought hiking boots and Teva’s style sandals (would you believe that we traveled through 9 stores to find them – I would have given up but my mom was determined not to let her little girl travel to Central America without waterproof sandals that would stay on her feet.
Monday morning I received my GSM World Phone 2 hours before Dad drove me to Dulles Airport. Since it was a balmy 60 degree day (so strange for January), we traveled with the windows down. The entire car trip I had a death grip on my plane tickets as I suffered from daymares about them blowing out the window. (So glad that they didn’t!)
Once at Dulles, Dad and I walked hand in hand to the baggage check. Dad helped me rearrange what I had packed so that neither bag would cost $25 for going over the 50 pound limit. In total I’ve dragged along 94 pounds of luggage (and that’s not including my carry on). The guy at the X-ray machine teased, “Geeze, girl! Is there anything you didn’t bring?”
To which I proudly informed him, “The kitchen sink.”
I enjoy chatting with my fellow passengers – especially those over sixty. The senior citizens are more fun to talk to because they seem to actually care about what you say instead of solely the stress of their next meeting or to do list.
When I reached my departure gate everyone seemed to be engrossed in some form of literature so I sat alone. At this point I felt tears start to well up when I realized that I didn’t give Dad a goodbye hug. Rather than get emotional I opted for something technical like figuring out how to operate my little electronic Spanish-English Dictionary. To my surprise I found a sealed, bumpy envelope with my name written on it. Impulsively, I seized it and opened it. There was a Hershey chocolate miniature, a peppermint, a photo of my family in front of a waterfall at Shenedoah, and a hand written note. Great! Non-emotional. I cannot read the letter. I fight back a few silent tears as I come to terms with the fact that this is real; I’m actually going to a foreign country, by myself, where I don’t know anybody, and I haven’t spoken the language in a month and a half. Morbid thoughts cross my mind. What if I get hit by a car while crossing the street and I end up a vegetable? My hazel eyes must have definitely changed to green as the third tear leaked out. A well built African American man in an army uniform looks at me with concern but is too shy to say anything. How embarrassing! I chuckle to myself as I pull out the electronic dictionary and start to figure it out. That makes me feel better.
Time for take off. I’m happy to have a window seat and a row to myself. I glance at the other passengers; they appear bored and disinterested in the fact that we are about to fly down the East coast of the U.S. from D.C. to Atlanta. Me on the other hand, I’m bursting full with excitement. I feel like a happy-go-lucky golden retriever. I love the sound of the propellers spinning, the way the plane shakes and rattles, and I especially love watching the ground zip by below. It’s fascinating to see the change in scale from life size, to doll house, to a toy railroad set, to an image from google earth. The trees look like broccoli; I wonder if their similar appearance feeds my love of both. As the plane rises away from the airport the extent of suburban sprawl is stunning. What a waste of land! How could little tiny mammalian bipeds have such a huge effect on the surface of the earth? All those little driveways and sidewalks and streets and neatly trimmed lawns. It brings major question to the American dream. Our population has grown too large for every family to have a big house, spacious yard, white picket fence, dog, and 3.1 kids. Inspired by Dr. Claire Welty, the director the Center for Urban Environmental Research and Education (CUERE), I want to live in either downtown Annapolis or Baltimore City in a little historic row-home so that I may minimize my “footprint” on our Earth. It would be ideal if I could walk to work.
Suburban sprawl has many negative consequences. Not only does it fragment habitat and lead to greater cumulative impervious cover, but it also leads to a decreased quality of life. People have a greater tendency to become overweight because it is necessary to use a car to travel anywhere. Typically, a place of work is far from home so a lot of time is spent sitting in traffic burning fossil fuels. Thus there is a greater cumulative amount of air pollution which is bad for people who have asthma and lung cancer. I could continue for another two pages but I don’t think that would be appropriate for a blog on studying abroad. I’ve left on a jet plane.
Getting so excited . . . I'm all packed and ready to go . . . now why in hell did I agree to go to school this morning? I don't know.
Happy Halloween
