Happy Solstice.  We get seven hours and twenty-eight minutes of daylight today.  Our yard faces straight east, note how far south the sun is.  Sigh.  On the upside, virtually all of the snow has melted so driving and getting around has been easy.

Charlie and Jack have become best friends.  Jack is so excited about Christmas this year.  He woke up at 4:30 am this morning and wanted to know if it was time to open his gifts.  I'm guessing the next three mornings will be the same.  He and Poppa have a plan for what to leave out for Santa, and no fire in the fireplace on Christmas Eve.  Jack also wants to see what reindeer poop looks like, because Poppa told Jack that he had seen some reindeer poop in the gutters when he was putting up the Christmas lights.  I wonder if reindeer poop looks anything like elk poop, and I just looked it up and yes, reindeer poop does indeed look like elk poop.  Good to know.

I'm still struggling with depression and feeling overwhelmed.  Last week I cried twice at work and this week, only once, so far.  Yesterday I had a patient who seemed fine, but I was having a hard time finding a vein on her.  We were really busy and I was alone with ten patients to start drinking, screen them and start their IVs.  Plus this poor lady, whose arm I had to heat for ten minutes and then I still blew her vein. She said she hated this time of year and was tired of people saying, I'm sure 2024 will be better.  She said she didn't know if she would even live through 2024, and then she burst into tears, at which point, I did too.  I gave her a good long hug and then found another nurse to start her IV, someone who was not crying.  She broke my heart.

There are so many new patients and so few old patients.  Some days it feels like an assembly line of sickness and death, which I can deal with when I'm not depressed.  But when I'm depressed, every hour of work feels like an eternity and I keep saying in my mind, only one more day this week.  Next week, I only work two days.  I can do this.  Keep going. 

Another patient, when I asked her if she was ready for Christmas, said, that it didn't really matter.  Christmas would come and go, regardless of whether or not she was ready.  It's only a day she said.  That helped me.  I put a lot of pressure on myself, along with most women, to make Christmas special.  Baking, cooking, cleaning, buying and wrapping of gifts, decorating, and socializing, most of it left to women to organize and accomplish.  It's a lot.

On Christmas day we'll open Jack's stocking and gift from Santa and then take him to his grandma's for a few days.  We'll go pick up Katie and take her out for lunch, at McDonalds, her favorite, and then go home.  The two of us will have supper in front of the TV.  There will be no large family gatherings, no elaborate meal and I guess a part of me misses that.  Not that family gatherings were all that wonderful in my family but it was a tradition.  

Mostly I'm tired and sad.  My back is killing me and I'm tired of everything.  I know this will pass.  It always does.  I'm having a massage for my back at noon and then I'll take the dogs out for a walk at the dog park.  

Another huge plus, my friend in Australia, has just emerged from her own dark pit.  We're a pair.  I'm looking forward to reconnecting with her.  

 

The black dog has caught up to me again, even walks at the dog park are not chasing it away.  I can feel it on my face, just under my eyes and I want to cry a lot. 

It's that time of year.  The long, dark nights get to me. I worry about Jack.  Kindergarten registration starts in less than two months and I know it will be a fight and a shitshow with his mother when I register him for kindergarten here and not in Edmonton.  She doesn't have a job and there is no way she can get to Jack to school on a regular basis but none of that will matter to her because it's only about her.  

Last night Jack stayed with his other grandma for the night, hubby and I went out for supper.  I started thinking about our lives before Jack was born.  We used to have fun.  We used to travel.  We had a life.  Now we have a 4.5 year old to care for, which I'm happy to do, but the other side of the family don't seem to understand that we had a life.  I'm resentful I guess.

And sad.  I'm not a fan of Christmas.  It makes me sad because it never lives up to the hype, does not meet expectations.  

Jack is back this afternoon.  Perhaps I'll take him to the dog park with me.  It is beautiful and as you can see, we've finally had snow.