You know, I've been trying to find my funny bone but it's been misplaced. I don't mean to whine on endlessly about this going back to work full time thing because I chose it. We need the money. It's my reality. BUT. I'm tired. I admit I'm tired. It's been quite a while since I worked these kinds of hours, and while I feel blessed to have such a great job and work with people I truly respect and love, I think my sense of humor is a geocache somewhere I don't have GPS coordinates for. I had an okay night. We were busy so it went fast. I had a few whack patients that I normally would tell sarcastic funny stories about but all I can think at this moment is that 1) Where's my rum and coke? and 2) I get to do this all over again tomorrow night. We're really busy right now and it's not as fun as it was a month ago when I had only had to work 3 days a week and got to be stack those so I had 4-6 days off in between.
Yes. I am a BTB, as Jones calls the Big Titty Babies. Again, I'm not sorry I have the work. I'm just sorry I'm working.
Okay, now I'm making myself laugh at myself. That geocache is apparently coordinated right in these panties, as in, as my mother used to say, "You can get happy in the same panties you got mad in."
So I had this patient...just kidding. I didn't have anyone to make fun of. Except for the one pre-heart op who demanded a pain shot before performing the EZPAP treatment. I wanted really bad to say "You think that hurts to breathe deep? Wait until they take a circular saw to your sternum..." Can't wait to have those treatments tomorrow after surgery....
I'm getting off here now so I can work on my novel. Think good thoughts for me. I love being in respiratory but writing is, has always been, and will always be my passion and how I define myself. I need to keep making time for it.
You know, I've been trying to find my funny bone but it's been misplaced. I don't mean to whine on endlessly about this going back to work full time thing because I chose it. We need the money. It's my reality. BUT. I'm tired. I admit I'm tired. It's been quite a while since I worked these kinds of hours, and while I feel blessed to have such a great job and work with people I truly respect and love, I think my sense of humor is a geocache somewhere I don't have GPS coordinates for. I had an okay night. We were busy so it went fast. I had a few whack patients that I normally would tell sarcastic funny stories about but all I can think at this moment is that 1) Where's my rum and coke? and 2) I get to do this all over again tomorrow night. We're really busy right now and it's not as fun as it was a month ago when I had only had to work 3 days a week and got to be stack those so I had 4-6 days off in between.
Yes. I am a BTB, as Jones calls the Big Titty Babies. Again, I'm not sorry I have the work. I'm just sorry I'm working.
Okay, now I'm making myself laugh at myself. That geocache is apparently coordinated right in these panties, as in, as my mother used to say, "You can get happy in the same panties you got mad in."
So I had this patient...just kidding. I didn't have anyone to make fun of. Except for the one pre-heart op who demanded a pain shot before performing the EZPAP treatment. I wanted really bad to say "You think that hurts to breathe deep? Wait until they take a circular saw to your sternum..." Can't wait to have those treatments tomorrow after surgery....
I'm getting off here now so I can work on my novel. Think good thoughts for me. I love being in respiratory but writing is, has always been, and will always be my passion and how I define myself. I need to keep making time for it.