Douchebag

(Trigger Warning – allll the suicided)

Several months ago I stepped down from my position and moved departments. Took a pay cut.

The department I was in was so toxic. We are talkin’ daily verbal and professional assault. It was fuckin’ terrible. It was really hard to let go of my people, the team I built from the ground up. It was hard to give up and walk away. I spent three years being a buffer for these people. Helping them navigate a pandemic. Keeping them out of harms way and taking the punches. I just couldn’t do it anymore. The burnout is real.

I moved to the ICU in a lesser position. It’s been an experience, for sure. I have been in a supervisor role for so long that being in a role where I have no say in anything was refreshing and fucking weird. The people I work for and with are fantastic. I’d follow them to hell and back, so having no control is fine with me. They are so kind. I’m grateful for the break.

I worked really closely with ICU for years so the move wasn’t really a big change other than the work environment improved 100%. They asked for me, and I’m so glad they did. Because, I don’t know that I would have moved on my own. I loved the team I built and feared what would happen when I left (turns out everything I feared unfolded about a week after I transferred. Ugh).

May is their birthday week. It’s also our anniversary month. While at work, one of the ICU nurses that I work closely with asked me a question that I answered truthfully. It led to me giving a quick synopsis of their suicide and the aftermath. The nurse, Jon, spun around and looked me in the eyes and said: “Wow, what a douchebag”. When I say I laughed, oh my stars. That’s the first time I’ve had that reaction from someone. I laughed and replied “Yeah, a little”. Jon started to apologize. I was still laughing. Truthfully, it was a welcome response. Had it been 5 years ago this would have put me in mental choke hold. I explained that, and that he had no reason to be sorry. I then explained that for the most part, they didn’t have a choice in their thoughts or actions; I told Jon the diagnosis. I will never forget his response. Never. Because it was the first time anyone had ever completely understood the situation. He locked eyes with me and said “So, they blamed you then. They left a note blaming you didn’t they?”. The world spun. It fuckin’ spun for the first time in a while. I’d never told anyone. Jon went on to say something to the effect of (don’t quote me here my brain was coming to a full stop at this point): “people with that diagnosis, their chemicals are all messed up and they blame the spouse.” I’d never had anyone understand the situation, or connect the dots so completely like that. I never had anyone point this out. I don’t think I knew this was common.

He had no idea what he did for my soul that day. She did leave a note. She did blame me. I blamed me. I blame me even though I know logically it wasn’t in my hands.

It’s true that ICU is a different animal. Apparently it’s the one I didn’t even know I needed.

XOXOX

Catriona

Deck everybody’s halls.

I’ve been trying to get into the Holiday spirt. It’s not working.

Here’s some photos of me faking it. LOL.

XOXOX

Catriona

OK, but now in French

Has anyone ever tried to read a physical book using a “Scan and Translate” App? No? Well, fuck. Guess we are going to find out how annoying *that* is. Hahaha.

A dear friend of mine wrote a book of her life and it happens to be in French. I’d been holding off on buying it. I have been trying to figure out how to get it in English as I am, sadly, only fluent in one language (two if you count sarcasm). She and I suck at communicating through E-mail, hahhahah (You get my E-mails yet? I have sent you all means of contact, lol). Anywayyyyy now I have a French book headed to my non-French home. BAHAHA. We are going to see how much gets lost in translation, hahaha.

I mean really this is my fault. I keep meaning to learn, and become fluent in, another language . BUT I CANNOT MAKE UP MY MIND WHICH ONE! It’s an important decision. I mean, I don’t want to waste what few brain cells I have left on the wrong one! lol. French is very high on the list. It’s in the top 3. I mean, also, I don’t even have time to brush my hair so learning a new language seems impossible.

In a surprising turn of evens my phone has told me to kick rocks and refuses to download google translate. BAHAHA. Stayed tuned for how much French kicks my ass. LOL.

I just keep thinking I need to figure out which country I want to be in once my kid graduates, because really that will dictate which language I stress my brain out with, cuzz you know, I’m getting old.

OK! I am off to day drink (keep your pants on, it’s regular drinking for me cuzz I work the night shift) and eat snacks.

Catriona

xoxoxo

Droping hints

For my birthday a few years ago my kid and my wife got me thirsty stone coasters. They were fitting because they had little sayings on them that sounded JUST like the things I tell (read “would yell at”) my family.

two days in a row I have found that the one I keep under my water on my bedside table has been placed on my sides of the bed. .

Think she’s trying to tell me something? hahahaha. I’m dead.

Guess I need to check in with my wife. BAHAHAHAHA!!!

Catriona

xoxoxox

Potty Mouth

I have received some, um. Interesting responses to my blog in the last 10 years. But, I have never been told to watch my mouth when it came to writing in my own blogs/websites/media. lol. With that being said when I respond or interact with people on their media I don’t generally swear. You know, respect of their space and all that.

I have a close friend that reads my stuff here and there. He came across a short conversation that happened in my comments and just now it came up that he left I was too “rough” with my response. I can take constructive criticism so I asked him why. He explained that maybe this person was an “Old Timer trying to make you better and you bit his head off”…. Now, while I value this person’s opinion – you know what? Let us do this – what do YOU think?

So, let me have it. I can take it. Was my response too harsh? Was he “trying to make me better” and I responded too harshly?

Was I a dick for asking him if he likes penis socks?

Tell me all the things.

Catriona

xoxoxox

My check engine light is on

I’ve hit a wall.

I am a firm believer that when you or your family hit a wall you move the wall. Break it, blow that shit up, you do whatever you need to. Hitting a wall is just a pause or a warning. You reevaluate. You move the wall.

I’m burned out. I pushed hard when we got hit with Covid. I pushed harder than I have ever pushed to make sure I could take care of my family. People were losing jobs, told to go home all over the world. I was not going to be one of them. People were losing their homes or living on borrowed time because they couldn’t pay their rent. It was only a matter of time for them. Healthcare professionals were being sent home in droves, or sent into forced early retirement. It was bonkers. That was not going to happen to us. I pushed. I moved up twice. I took on Covid from the beginning even when we didn’t know what we were working with because my coworkers were just kids. Scared kids. I headed the covid “Team” because I wasn’t scared (not in the way everyone else was). I knew scared people make mistakes. All it would have taken was one scared kid making a mistake and taking out the entire team. In in beginning, even highly trained professionals were breaking under pressure, so it had to be me. So, I did it. Every day until I couldn’t. For over a year I was one of two that responded to EVERY Covid patient. I was the one that directed how we handled things. It was the only thing I could do to help. I ended up with my own team, and then my own shift. I moved the wall more times than I can explain to you. I’m tired now. I’m a workaholic and for the first time in my life I need a break. Even when I’m sick I don’t sit down. I need to sit the fuck down. (Click here if you are new here – might help. lol)

I just explained it to my other half like this: “My check engine light is on. You know the one that comes on even when everything seems fine, but you know that it’s only a matter of time before everything comes to a full stop? Yeah. That. My check engine light is on.”

I have to change courses and slow down. Maybe the new trash human taking over as Supervisor is the Universe intervening. Horrible timing tho, wtf Universe. Braces and college, hello?

So, back to the drawing board. Working on some passive income so I can slow down at work. Or, you know, if that fails I will be that 40 year old on the pole at your local dance club. Hahahahah.

Off to ignore the laundry on my bed.

Catriona

XOXOXO

18

This kid is 18. Can you believe that?

I remember when they handed me my newly birthed baby. Everyone left and I was alone. I put the baby on my chest – I remember thinking: “Fuck. What am I going to do now?” Hahaha. In that moment, I really had absolutely no idea. It wasn’t that I didn’t want this baby. If there was every a baby that was wanted or needed, it was this one, let me tell you. But, I was in over my head and I knew it. My bio parental units were broken long before they had me, so trust when I say I didn’t have a lot to work with reference wise. Well, maybe that’s incorrect. I knew what I wouldn’t be doing, lol. But passed that, I was a teenager with an infant and I was well aware.

I went to sleep that night and woke up in a nightmare in which my teenage ass was responsible for an infant that had a frequent habit of trying to die (internal bleeding & allergic to everything, EVERYTHING).

Then suddenly I had a toddler.

Then I had a 6 year old skipping grades because when we transitioned from homeschooling to Montessori school he was testing at 8th grade and 12th grade in some subjects.

Then I blinked and this kid was telling me he didn’t think he wanted to be a Neurologist any more and why. So we reworked what college he was aiming for in the coming years.

Then I looked away for a min, I swear to you it was just min, and he graduated High school.

Then I leaned down to pick up his hat, and he turned 18.

We were in Target one day and he said “MOM LOOK” and smiled real big while telling me the “D” in the front of the cart looked like a mouth smiling. This is by far one of my favorite photos. He couldn’t have been more then 4 or 5 here.

This was yesterday. Look at this kid. I’m speechless. My whole heart turned 18 yesterday. Watch out world.

We spent the day eating junk food & Hershey’s Icecream cake while watching Moon Knight (what a weird show, not bad…but).

18. I don’t even know how we got here. LOL

Catriona

XOXOXOX

P.s. C. where you at? Check your E-mails.<3

Oh I did it now

I reported to the Hospital around the same time Covid did. Since then, I have been the department Trainer as well as the shift manager. I work overnight, the only one in management is me. Shit goes sideways – it’s me that catches it before it hits the fan. I really enjoy my job, for the most part. I am sent in for tough patients (read: dementia, suicides, and just plain assholes). I respond to codes. I work with ICU and Trauma all night. My staff is pretty amazing and the people I work with are a different breed. Pretty proud to know them. Especially my House Sup (Read: God. She runs the hospital). I only hope to be like her when I grow up.

This week, I wrote my resignation. My intention was to hand it in and give notice in about a week. See, I love my job, but two members of upper management in my department are complete shit, homophobic garbage humans. Since I cannot be pressured and manipulated, and because I have morals I’m not of much use to them. The Hospital loves me and I nail my job every day, but because I will not intimidated and don’t tolerate abuse these two individuals and I have uh, we will say – have butted heads (read: I nuked and they got smacked by their management for their treatment of me which only expanded the target on my back). Up until now they didn’t effect me much. That all changed the min my Supervisor told me he was stepping down and one of the other Supervisors (described above) is who I’s be reporting to, permanently. I laughed in response. Nope. That’s not going to happen. I don’t need this job, and def don’t need to deal with a nefarious wanker with a god complex. My exact words to my Supervisor were: “I will shit in my hands and clap while singing the Song That Never Ends, naked in the Atrium before THAT happens.”

With that being said, I reported to the ICU last night as part of a responding team, like I do every night. The Charge Nurse (Head of the floor) said something to the effect of “I don’t know why you don’t just come work for the ICU” (I get this a lot for several different units, I just have never moved on it). I just laughed and said “You aren’t hiring, I looked” and kept working thinking nothing of it. She rounded on me, told me she wanted me in the ICU and marched my ass to her Director’s office. I didn’t even have a choice at that point. LOL. Thank the stars she wasn’t there. I was a sweaty gross mess. I had just responded to a stroke and 4 ICU patients, I was in no shape to be meeting any Director. Charge told me she would call me as soon as she returned. I thanked her and headed back towards my office still pretty stunned at what just happened.

On my way back to my office I stopped by House Supervisor. I consider her a friend and wanted her opinion. I asked her what she thought. The turn over rate in the ICU is high and I wanted to know if it was because of burn out, or because they treat their staff like crap. She told me what I figured she’d say. Our convo was cut short by a phone call so I made my way back to my office. About 20 mins later House Sup called me to tell me I had a meeting with the Director the next day (tonight). LOL. I swear I have no control of this thing. Hahaha. So, I’ve done it now, and I didn’t even mean to.

I have no idea what is happening. hahah.

Catriona

XOXOX

Let me read you this book…

Of course my kid would choose and get accepted to a private college, out of state.

Offfffff course it would cost 40k a year. Of course. Even with the college fund and my savings – it’s a four year program. sigh (that’s after the massive scholarship).

Maybe I should learn to make penis socks.

Stand on the corner maybe? I think I’m too old to get on the pole.

I never asked my kid’s bio father for child support. Man am I kicking myself now. Kidding. Fucking that.

Even if I kick the bucket right now, my life insurance would only cover two years of school. LOL

What if I start an OnlyFans of me sitting in the backyard reading aloud nineteenth-century literature? Because really I feel like that’s all I am capable of.

To the back yard I go!

Catriona

XOXOXO

What is under your bed?

Books?

Dirty socks?

Porn?

Penis socks? OH MY STARS, IF IT ISSSSSS PENIS SOCKS I WANT TO SEEEEEEEEE!

Can you guess what’s under my bed?

Did you guess Ramen?

NO? Well you obviously don’t have kids pftttt.

• 

This is parenting. Duh.

Catriona

XOXOXOX