It's been a difficult week. We were short at work all week. Monday was the worst day, all manner of things going wrong. Transport patients, patients parked in hallways, overtime, add ons, too busy to keep everything flowing smoothly. I don't like that and that is when mistakes get made. The lady who was parked in the hall for an hour because nobody told the nurses she was there, or that she was a transport patient, or that she needed transport home. That's shameful to me. We got her sorted out but I don't like it when my patients slip between the cracks. It's not right.
Last Friday I had a young woman the same age as my middle daughter who is on palliative chemo for bowel cancer. That breaks my heart. She was dealing with it but it hurt me. Yesterday I interviewed a woman for her central line, she's going for a stem cell transplant. When I started talking about the line her eyes teared up and she needed the bathroom. I told her I would give her some time and then come back. Cancer and treatment often becomes too real when you need a central line. It's an external identifier that there is something really wrong with your body. You can see it all the time and it can't be avoided. At least that's my theory.
And yesterday an older couple from Gaza, nearly immigrated here, only five months and the wife has lymphoma. Going through cancer treatment in a foreign language in a foreign country must be so hard. They were a lovely couple and I told them I was glad that they were safe and living here now.
I'm trying to avoid dealing with my son. It always turns into a complicated loop of half truths, lies and avoidance. When you ask him a question he doesn't like or point out something he doesn't want to deal with, he just pretends it didn't happen. I need to step further back and just be there for my grandson, allow my son his visit and then stay out of his life. It's too painful for me.
Gracie asked my son for $300/month for child support which I think is more than fair. My son wants to be more "involved" with his son's life so wants to shop for him. I pointed out that shopping is about "you" not your son. Then he shows up with bags of second clothes that someone has given him and thinks he's supporting his son. My son who has a Gucci man purse but can't or won't supply funds for the care of his son. It makes me feel sick to my stomach and brings back so many bad memories of this very same disagreement from thirty-five years ago between me and my son's father.
And the big guy is angry and frustrated as well and that upsets me. He's angry because my son hurts me and then I feel upset. It's a circle jerk of anger all around and I want it to stop which I guess is up to me.
I'm so tired of always being the responsible one, of taking care of everyone else, of putting my needs aside for others. I wanted to go for an early lunch at work yesterday and I had a difficult time doing even that. I danced around the issue and then finally said, "I'm hungry, do you mind if I go for lunch first?" And that was hard. Why???????????????????
Nobody else seems to have a problem asking for what they want, or just taking what they want.
This morning I'm taking Miss Katie to the doctor to have her medication prescription renewed and to have her pre-op papers filled in for her upcoming dental surgery. It's my day off. I would love to work in the yard or quilt but I will do this for my daughter. Her father won't, nor will he say thank you. In fact when she was seventeen years old he moved 1000km away. I'm tired of his shit too.
Apparently the loving kindness meditation hasn't quite kicked in:)