I Spend All of My Time Being Angry These Days Part I

So I finally retired in March of last year. 43 years being a nurse and I got to the point where I knew it was time. Past time really.

I survived three years as a nurse in Inpatient Acute Psych Unit.  I learned about schizophrenia simultaneously while I learned electronic medical records. Nothing like trying to chart on a computer with very ill people screaming in my face.  The learning curve was steep, but I learned a lot in a very short period of time. I worked with remarkable people who truly cared for those who had a separate reality from most of us. God bless them all.

From there I opened the final chapter in my career. Four years in Inpatient palliative care.  I remember being ecstatic to have found the position and then thrilled to get the job. It had a lot of ups and downs. It took a couple of years for the team to settle down. Members came and went, and not all voluntarily. The remaining team was comprised of the finest professionals I had ever worked with. Office space became minuscule and responsibilities increased but the team matured and became respected by most disciplines. I got my one and only official warning of my career. I learned that sometimes there is an unknown agenda and you become collateral damage, so moving on is all you can do. I foolishly thought that was the worst thing I would experience as a nurse. I was wrong.

In January of 2020 we started to hear about a virus appearing in China. Some sort of SARS but it seemed to be limited to China.  Although the virus was scary, the intentional misinformation was far scarier. The former occupant of the White House kept saying it was "like the flu" and would soon be gone. We now know he knew the truth but he chose to lie to protect his own graven image.

COVID found it's way to California and my city officially by March, (but likely earlier) and now we had to figure out how to deal with it. 

 From AJMC:

March 6 — 21 Passengers on California Cruise Ship Test Positive

March 11 — WHO Declares COVID-19 a Pandemic

March 13 — Trump Declares COVID-19 a National Emergency

March 19 — California Issues Statewide Stay-at-Home Order  

"California becomes the first state to issue a stay-at-home order mandating all residents to stay at home except to go to an essential job or shop for essential needs. The order also instructs health care systems to prioritize services to those who are the sickest."  

The nightmare was official. People were initially staying home, but Healthcare Workers were walking into work not sure of what to expect. I was lucky because I had reduced my hours by 50% in anticipation of eventual retirement.  I was going to work until 70, so I only had to get to 2022. I had a sick feeling it was going to be bad, but only time would confirm that. And it didn't take much time.

Everyone with a pulse likely remembers how hard it was in the beginning. Physicians were learning on the job. The virus revealed itself to kill not only by pneumonia, but with blood clots and multi organ failure. Hospitals filled up. We all learned something new everyday. It was hard, really hard, but people knew we were on their side.

In patient palliative care is difficult under normal circumstances. Few want to talk about disease trajectory before there is a crisis and honestly, the team is treated like they are Grim Reapers. We were often confused with hospice. Our job was to make sure patients understood where they were in their disease process and to look at maximizing meaningful care and minimizing futile care. We would only see patients when invited by their physician. Business took a big leap when COVID showed up.

Remember, I am speaking of the original COVID-19, not the Delta variant.  Some people did get well enough to leave the hospital. Some would discharge to a nursing facility for "rehab". But some people could not recover in spite of maximum care. They were never going to leave the hospital alive. If it is physically possible and the family desires to take the patient home to die, we move heaven and earth to make it happen. This virus, this damn virus wasn't letting this happen. People were dying in the hospital because we couldn't get them home to die. The largest issue was oxygen requirements. We could get some home, but those on the highest levels of oxygen were not likely to survive transportation home, so they were dying in the hospital. Because of the contagious nature of the virus, families were not allowed to be with the patient when they were dying if they were still testing positive. People were saying good-bye to their loved ones over either a phone or a tablet. 

I will never forget speaking to family members after seeing their loved ones and confirming with them the prognosis was grave. I was used to breaking bad news, and I frequently did it over the phone. This was different. The speed at which someone could deteriorate was all over the place. Some hung on and their symptoms waxed and waned for a bit giving some hope. Some came in and did a swift unremitting decline. The common factor was they did not have the comfort of their family when they took their last breath. It was soul crushing to hear the sobs from the family members over the phone. The patients were so ill at the end most couldn't cry. Those on the ventilator were sedated and were unable to communicate. All we could do was apologize for a virus we couldn't control. The bedside nurses took the brunt of everything. The physical risks, the daily "new plan", and the pain and anger from the families. If you can't be angry with God, be angry and your bedside nurse. Physicians, nurses on the floors and in the ICU, respiratory therapists, nursing assistants, physical therapist, pharmacists, housekeepers all experienced moral injury because of the damned virus and the circumstances out of our control. This went on for almost a year. The first wave, the second wave...

Then we got vaccines. We could prevent most infections and if not prevent the infection, it would likely be much more mild. Our prayers had been answered.

My healthcare system was prepared months in advance to roll out a vaccine. They had the appropriate storage, they had a plan to roll it out to employees and the community after that. I got my first vaccine on Christmas Day, 2020. I cried because I thought it was the best gift I had ever received. I was fully vaccinated three weeks later. It was then I made my plan to retire. I felt like the worst would soon be over because we had a vaccine. March 3, 2021, I hung up my stethoscope for the last time. My sweet co workers gave me a nice send off. The Social Workers made me an unofficial social worker and gave me flowers. My twelve year old financial advisor told me if I was VERY careful, I would have a decent retirement. All was right with the world. 

At least for a little while. I was even working on getting my sense of humor back.

And that didn't last very long...

A Look Back, Forward and from the corner of my eye...

I wrote this 8 years ago. So much has happened since then.  Even so, every word rings true even now. Guess I'll have to give this another go. 
 

At the end of the calendar year, we all seem to feel compelled to review the year.  I find my self doing this too and this year I want to make some sense of the past 12 months, or at least find something positive to hold onto.

A year ago I was laid off from my dream job.  The things that happened after that took off like a cement mixer going down hill without breaks.  I felt out of control and no matter how I tried to put on the breaks, time sped by with little input from me.  Difficulty finding a job never occurred to me.  What a wake up call I got regarding technology and an ageist society!  I could either have rolled over and given up or sucked it up and plod on.  I chose to plod on and it was a battle I almost lost.  In the midst of job searching I had a potentially life ending medical event.  During my medical event I was in danger of loosing my health insurance which could have caused me physical and financial ruin.  Although I am happy to wake up everyday, I'm a little more wary about opening my eyes to see what's happening each day. 

As you know, I did survive my medical event and eventually got a job that pays the bills if not enriches my soul.  Life is full of compromises is it not?  I have learned a lot about myself: I am even more private than I thought I was.  I protected the people around me from knowing all the scary details about my health and finances.  Would my burden have been diminished had I shared the details?  I'm not sure.  I think I didn't want to have to support them emotionally while I was fighting to get healthy.  I wanted to put all my energy into my health and job hunt without a lot of gnashing of teeth and assuring people I was fine.  I wasn't fine of course, but my focus was on one step at at time towards being OK.  I have spent a lot of energy supporting others but it was my turn to support myself first and others second.  This time I had to come first.

Did I hurt some feelings while I was keeping some well intentioned people from helping me when I didn't want it?  Undoubtedly.  I'm I sorry for this? Of course I am. I truly believe it was what I had to do to get through this rough patch.  I hunker down when assailed by unfortunate events and I now know I can get through and come out the other side.

I learned I feel vulnerable in a very new and real way: I have a lot more years behind me than I have in front of me.  To be clear: I am not afraid of dying.  I am now very conscious that I have very limited time left to leave a legacy.  I'm not talking about a financial legacy.  I'm talking about what I want people to remember me for.  I want to know that I have impacted the lives of the people around me in a positive way.  I am much more aware of what I say and how I say it these days.  I'm sure I have caused a lot of anguish for others with my impulsive speech: open mouth, insert foot type of verbal mistakes.  Some of these mistakes I can remember with great clarity, and some haven't registered in my memory.  The fact that I can't remember some of my mistakes doesn't erase them, it means I can't try to ameliorate the effect of them.   I suppose I'm saying I want to make amends for some of my mistakes.  I am feeling very imperfect and having tried to be perfect has been a terrible burden.  This imperfect perfectionist is turning in the towel and accepting my human state.  I am learning to accept my imperfections and the mistakes I have accrued over the years.  The next step is to forgive myself and others for our imperfections.

Hello? Are You Still Out There?

Hello?  Are you still out there?  I can't believe I've been away so long, but I assure you, I've been busy.  When I last posted, I shared that I had a new job.  Having always prided myself on being fairly bright and able to learn just about anything I set my mind to: boy howdy, did I get a wake up call.

I've been an RN for 33 years and I have experience in several areas.  One of the nicest things about being an RN is the flexibility of working different positions in a variety of venues.  I have spent 24 years working in hospital facilities and the rest in a variety of areas that gave me the opportunity to try life outside of a hospital setting.  I was able to learn many different jobs in a reasonable amount of time.  Now, for the first time in my life, I was afraid I was not going to be successful and it really set me back on my heels.  Yikes.

My latest job is in an area which I had zero experience.  The generous people who hired me knew I didn't have any experience in this area but decided to take a chance and hired me.  God bless them for their generosity.  After general orientation, I started the nuts and bolts of putting together the information to become competent in my new job.  As I stated, I thought I had the job I would retire from when I got laid off.  I had not had a new job in over eight years so the process of being a "New Bee", was a distant memory.  It never occurred to me I might have bitten off more than I could chew.  About two weeks into the process, I started to realize it might be impossible to teach this old dog some new tricks.  Ouch.  Then the panic started to roil in the back of my mind; "What if I can't do this?"

On top of learning a new clinical area was the daunting experience of learning EMR.  Electronic Medical Records, which is charting patient information in a computer program rather than on paper. So what's the big deal?  Well, even being fairly computer savvy, this was a very big deal.  Apparently my brain doesn't think the same way that the people who developed the program do.  What seems perfectly logical to me wasn't part of the program and things that totally baffled me were standard operating procedure for EMR.  Really?  So not only am I learning a new clinical area, I'm learning a new language as well.  I don't know what the statistics are about learning a new language after a certain age, but I'll bet the learning curve is completely different at 61 than it is at 21.  The panic continued to simmer.

May I say that the people who were saddled with training me have have been extraordinarily generous and supportive?  They have been uniformly gracious and have been, patient and kind.  Each had a different style in how they shared their expertise with me, but I have learned something from each one that contributed to my knowledge base. All that being said, I was struggling mightily.   My self confidence was flagging because, quite honestly, I was used to being really good at my job.  Being at best, not dangerous, was and is not acceptable to me.  My ego beside, the patients deserve the best and I was not yet able to provide that.  They got what they needed and were safe, but deserved so much more. 

So, I plod on.  My mentors continue to answer my questions with patience and grace and slowly, I am getting better at the job.  Not shooting for the starring role, just wanting to be a good enough.  This is all a new mind set for me.  I have to say, that although I am now OK in my new job, I still aspire to be much better.  Very much humbled by this experience, it gives me renewed appreciation for the learning process.  Although it has taken me much longer than I expected, the process has not been without it's upside: new and wonderful colleagues, and a new area to grow into.  Life is good.

Choices

Life always involves choices.  We make good ones, bad ones and some choices are made for us.  We've all made good and bad choices because that's what human beings do.  Let's talk about the choices that are made for us.  

It seems in the cyber world, it is presumed we are unable to make a decision without input from another entity.  Our social networks want to find our friends, events and music for us and no amount of checking off boxes will get them to stop.  I have been assertive in trying to find ways to get the suggestions to stop to no avail so far.  Even my Operating System wants to help me.  At least it gives me the choice of which search engine to use, each more annoying than the last.  I have on occasion accidentally down loaded even more help when updating software because I sped by the page with the small checked box on it.  I once ended up with a different Operating System and it took 15 minutes to navigate through the different options before I could find and check the option I DON'T WANT THIS STINKING OPERATING SYSTEM!

Even music is pushed upon me via my once beloved iTunes.  I don't care what music my friends are listening to and I don't particularly want to share my selections with them.  I don't want my music chosen for me either.  I have very eclectic musical tastes and no pre loaded software could ever satisfy my moods when it comes to music.  By now I'm sure you can guess what types of expletives fly out of my mouth when I get the message "based on your previous choices we recommend...."  When did consumers send the message that we no longer could choose for ourselves?  I don't remember getting the memo and no one ever asked me if my brain had suddenly gone to mush and could they please help me.  

Now I can hear some of you state the obvious:  it's all about selling things. Believe me, I know that.  What the people deciding what I'll like don't seem to grasp is that I am a contrarian. I will not be pushed into making the choice someone else has in mind because it just pushes my red hot angry button.  I guess one could say I am stubborn, but I don't think that really covers it.  You see, I didn't have a rebellious stage as a teenager but to make up for it, I've been clandestinely rebellious ever sense.  I don't wear a sign and for the most part I don't advertise the fact that the more you push me in a direction, the more I will push back.  If you present me with options and leave me alone I am fine.  Tell me I must take A or B and I'll take C, it's just the way I am wired.  

So to the cyber world I say:  Leave the choices to me please.  Stop trying to guide me to your choice and I may find my way to your choice eventually, or not.  It is in human nature to want to do things for ourselves and we really don't need or want your help.  Don't make me go back to buying everything in a brick and mortar store.  If you build it they will come?  Yes, just give them the chance please.

Words

I posted a new vocabulary word on Face Book the other day: scuppered.  I read it in an article and was in awe. A new word to use!  Difficult to put into a sentence let alone a conversation, but oh the glory of it all if you are successful!  Oh and by the way, scuppered is defined as sinking a ship deliberately.  So I'm now on a mission to use the word scuppered.

This is not the first time I have become swept up in the romance of a new word.  I actually shivered when I first heard the word, surreptitious.  I could not wait to use it.  Of course when I finally did use it, it was anticlimactic.  I got a "huh?' and life went on.  The lesson learned there was know your audience.  The only worse situation is using a great word incorrectly and in front of someone who actually knows what it means.  Embarrassed doesn't even cover that situation.

I must explain that although I love words, talking and writing, I have little education behind the love.  I was into the sciences and liberal arts was not a focus for me, so I got by only taking the minimum requirement for English both in high school and college. I wasn't interested in being well balanced, I wanted to get out of school and work. Do I rue the day I made the blunder of not pursuing more balanced education?  Oh yes I do.  There is irony I suppose because the fact is I have always been a voracious reader.  I was reading the same books as my mother by the time I hit third grade.  Not a genius, I just read whatever was in the house.  The good news is I didn't understand a lot of what I read since they were most often....novels of a certain genre.  You know: cheesy romance or mystery stories.  Looking back, I am horrified at some of the books, but in the end, I didn't become a sociopath and I still love reading.  Taste, well that's another can of worms all together.  I still read anything: soup cans, cereal boxes and sleazy romance novels as well as Pulitzer prize winning tomes. 

You should know that spelling is an issue for me.  My spelling is abysmal.  If it weren't for spell check I'd be in deep trouble.  I think it is a genetic issue somehow.  I spell poorly, my son's father spelled worse than I did and our son struggled with it as well.  My son and I have fabulous vocabularies, but again if it weren't for spell check, well, it wouldn't be pretty.  To his credit, my son doesn't shy away from using great words, and he has figured out a way to present his thoughts beautifully and spells without embarrassment.

I encourage you to break the mold when it comes to words.  We use our favorite 500 words out of being comfortable rather than wanting to convey a thought or a feeling accurately.  There are a lot of words out there because there are a lot of things to describe in our lives.  Should you use fire or conflagration for example?  Fire means flame.  Conflagration means large destructive fire.  Which word really describes what you were trying to say? As I have said before: words are powerful.  Words should communicate, inspire, motivate, entertain, and at times make you reach for the dictionary, but they should never be complacent.  Words educate, titillate, stimulate, and help you contemplate.  Use them well, use them wisely, use them precisely and with joy.  Words are the tools that help you share your world.  

By the way, I was out sailing the other day and some damned fool scuppered his ship for the insurance money. OK, that was a rather abrupt use of scuppered.  I will figure out a way to use that word in a conversation and a hush will come over the audience...or there will be a "huh?" and life will go on.  Until then: Life is good.

The only prime number I like is beef

If I die in my sleep tonight, I will die knowing that there is a prime number that is 17 million digits long.  You know what a prime number is of course: it can only be divided by itself and one.  Yes, I will surely rest in peace with that piece of information residing in my brain.  This number is 22 megabytes in size in case you were wondering.  Yes sirree, I am at peace.  What is the every day use for a prime number that is 17 million digits long you might ask?  Nothing, Nada, Zip.  Why in the world do people spend time figuring these things out?

It seems that the math world, a world I only visit if there is no other choice, is obsessed with prime numbers.  They even have contests to see who can find the largest prime number.  I didn't even know it was missing.  If they find and then prove their findings, they sometimes get money and sometimes get written up in some math journal and will forever be a footnote in some one's doctoral thesis.  At least they will be until the next number is ascertained.  It is my premise that none of this makes a bit of difference.  Why?  Theoretically, these numbers already exist right?  If there is no practical application for large prime numbers, WHO CARES?  To me it's like counting sand particles in the desert.  They are there and their number, while it might be interesting to someone, is irrelevant.

I suppose this is the geek equivalent of mountain climbing: I find numbers because they are there.  Wouldn't it be a better use of time and resources if there were a practical application that would improve quality of life?  A 17 billion digit number does not help me balance my check book (a calculator doesn't either for some reason).  It does not find a cure for cancer, or any genetic disorder or protect us from meteors plummeting towards earth.  Let's look at what prime numbers can do.

Prime numbers are beneficial in cryptography.  You know, the codes for communication when you don't want the enemies to read it.  Cryptography helped win WW II when pure military might and strategy alone could not.  That was beneficial.  The only practical use for prime numbers is in the computer world although the brainiest mathematicians insist that it may change some day.  There are also those who believe insects use prime numbers somehow.  Like the cicadas who come out at irregular intervals say 13 and 17 years.  This confuses their natural enemies and more of the cicadas survive. While that information is fascinating, it's only useful every 13 or 17 years and only if you live where there are cicadas.  Well, when I want to enter a prime number contest or become a cicada, I'll start working on prime numbers.  Until then, I'm sticking to Prime Rib.  Dinner anyone?

Timing is everything

Recently the 25th billion iTunes song was downloaded.  The lucky person who downloaded it received a $13,000.00 gift card.  Although it boggles the mind that 25 billion songs have been downloaded, what are the chances that you would be the one to do it?  I'm not a statistician but I think it's along the lines as the lotto.  What made the person download a song at just the right time?  Chance or dumb luck? Timing can be good or bad.  If you got new tires BEFORE the first rain, that's good timing and probably paying attention to the weather forecast.  Getting a flat tire in the rain because you were driving the car your friend loaned you is bad timing but with the best of intentions. Leaving a slot machine after playing it for 2 hours only to have the next person hit a huge jack pot is bad timing and an excuse to commit murder or at least aggravated slapping.  Why do these things happen?

I have a friend who seemed to win some contest on the radio weekly.  She had some golden touch and her timing was great.  Tickets to movies, events, T Shirts she's won them all without breaking a sweat.   I have personally won two contests.  I won a Beatles 45 record (don't make me tell you what a 45 is) in 1963 by answering a question of some sort.  The next time I won anything was 2012.  I answered the second most correct answers about our cafeteria staff and such and got $10.00 of credit to spend.  I was thrilled I assure you but if you look at the length of time between wins, it's a little sad.  49 years between wins may be a record.  Oh by the way, I enter a zillion contests a year plus play the lotto.  I fill out surveys in the grocery store in hopes of a gift certificate.  I fill out surveys when I buy things on line, eat in a restaurant all in hopes of getting a little something fun out of it.  I've tried winning the Dream Home and the Green Home on HGTV every year they have had the contest.  If there is a form to be filled out and dropped in a barrel somewhere, I do it.

So why am I going on about luck and timing?  Well, I've been buying songs on iTunes for years.  I buy them pretty regularly but recently, I've been a little mad at Apple.  I decided they didn't share and play well with others as evidenced by the way it's difficult to use their products on a non Apple device.  It can be done, but it isn't necessarily easy (remember this is my opinion).  So to punish Apple, I decided to start downloading my songs from Amazon.  An added advantage is the prices can sometimes be much better and they don't care what device you put the music on.  Amazon gets a lot of business from me and they have wonderful service so I like doing business with them.  Why am I bringing this up in relationship to luck and timing?  Well, I bought some music from Amazon the other day.  After I read the article I wondered if I had purchased the music from Apple would I have had the 25th billion download?  It would be so me if that was the case.  But lucky or unlucky, good timing or bad timing, any day you wake up you have another chance to win something.  Life is good.

There is no sense in trying to make sense of the absurdities of ife

So it's been a rough couple of days. Job applications are being rejected and the things that make the news these days aren't improving things. A few observations: Today there was a survey and the question was, " Who is the better parent, Honey Boo Boo's mother or Kim, Khloe and Kourtney's mom?  Did I miss the memo?   Was it National Stupid Question Day and no one told me?  To be fair, this was not placed in the hard news section but is this something anyone really thinks about?  And if they do, what else do they do to occupy their time?  If you are comparing Reality TV Moms, it is clearly a very slow news day.  There was even an article or two talking about what really made Mary Ingalls from Little House on the Prairie blind.  The poor girl has been dead for a very long time, what difference could it possibly make now.  Apparently someone pointed out that Scarlett Fever doesn't cause blindness like the author hypothesized.  Again, these people need to find something else to worry about.

Speaking of more random thoughts.....

The Super Bowl always amuses me.  The food statistics for this event are appalling.  I made a brief foray into the grocery store to pick up a few things on my way to an Un-Super Bowl party.  I swear you could smell the testosterone from the moment the automatic doors opened.  Men in football jersey's (from all teams not just the one's participating), were zooming around the store grabbing bags of chips and 12 packs of beer like they were being given away.  I thought maybe I'd walked in on one of those game shows where you have five minutes to load up your shopping cart and whoever has the most when the whistle blows gets to keep the spoils.  I was afraid someone was going to get hurt.   I'm not a sport fan in any way, but I do like to watch the highlights on the eleven o'clock news.  This way I can have a conversation with someone and not have to say, "Super Bowl...that's football right?"  People get that look on their face.  The one that says, "Poor dear, she doesn't get out much does she?" 

And further rambling...

When you start drinking wine at 1 PM with friends for a "special lunch", you can be sure you will not be getting anything done that day.  Particularly when the lunch and drinking last six hours.  I'm not exaggerating here.  Six hours of delightful food and conversation.  At least they tell me it was delightful.  I'm having a little difficulty reconstructing the day.  I wonder why?  I guess I wouldn't qualify for the Olympic drinking team.  Just going to have to buckle down and drink up.  Or is it buckle up and knock them back.  I'll figure it out not to worry.

One last random thought.  Well maybe more than one.  I generally have a short attention span, and it seems stress shortens it even more.  If I could count the number of times I have forgotten what I was doing I guess I wouldn't have forgotten what I was doing would I?  

The way I explain a short attention span or ADD for that matter is this: it’s like the little boy in the Family Circle comics.  The little boy is going to go next door but in the process he has to explore the entire neighborhood first.  He eventually finds his way back to the house next door but has used the most circuitous route imaginable.  That is how my brain is working these days.  I’m not getting much accomplished but I sure am walking around a lot!

I love the smell of Salonpas in the morning

So, in having to accept that I'm not 21 anymore, I have to treat my body with a little more respect.  Apparently bending over is way out of my comfort zone these days.  Literally.  It seems that bending over, twisting, and sleeping on my side, causes my rickety old back to talk to me: "DON'T DO IT" is the usual message.  Well, this doesn't work for me obviously.

Let me be clear, I still do everything I want to do, I just make a bit more noise doing it.  There are the moans and groans of course.  Snap, crackle, pop too.  Then of course that old standby, swearing.  Not that any of these things actually makes me feel better: more of a reflex I suppose.  But I have learned there are a few things I can do to beat back the aches and pains.

I have to stretch as I am getting up which is where the snap, crackle and pop are observed.  You yoga people are saying, so?  Well, I'm not a yoga person and I tend to fly out of bed when the mood, or the bladder strikes me.  When the thought to get up enters my mind, I get up.  Since it has become very clear to me that I can no longer hop, skip and jump first thing in the morning, I now stretch.  Let me define stretching: I slowly move my legs while bending, and or rotating the joints.  Then I sit up.  While sitting up on the side of the bed I do a neck roll which produces an amazing amount of popping.  Then I stand up and reach for the sky, roll my shoulders and do some gently twisting which inevitably makes my right shoulder and back pop.  The sound is similar to the last couple of pops you hear when you are microwaving popcorn...you just wait for them to slow down and you know you are done.

Now throughout the day I do throw in a few stretches as well.  When I pull weeds my back is happy until I try to straighten up.  Then it says, "Whoa little filly!  Slow down."  Why my back is a horse I don't know, but I'm just reporting what happens.  So, I get up slowly and then stretch this way and that until my back stops talking.  Now my back isn't always unhappy. It prefers that I keep in motion however.  It feels best when I am walking.  I'm glad for that, but it feels odd just walking around without a particular goal in mind.  Of course when I'm walking around I see things that I want to do, bend over, and well, you know the rest.

After a full day of creaking, popping and swearing, I take a nice hot shower that is heaven.  I am lucky enough to have a tank less water heater so I do not run out of water.  I actually have to set a timer or I would not get out.  Ever.  Not good for the water allotment, energy bill or my wrinkled skin but oh does it feels good.  After drying off it's time for fuzzy PJ's and slippers, but I must first do a few other things.  It's time for the application of the over the counter lotions and potions.  Sometimes I just go with the odor free varieties: the anti inflammatory cream versus the blue stuff with Emu oil and the like.  Sometimes I go with the heating patches which are fragrance free.  But sometimes these measures just don't do enough. Then it is time for the grandma stuff.  You know what I'm talking about: the treatments that make you smell like your grandma. 

I used to think Bengay was my grandmother's perfume.  Now of course I know differently.  I had no idea until the last couple of years that Bengay wasn't the only choice.  A dear friend introduced me to Salonpas.  It comes in patches of various sizes and now it also comes in foam and spray!  And it all smells like menthol.  Just like grandma's Ben Gay and any other number of lotions and potions.  I don't fully understand the mechanism that makes it fairly efficacious but it saves me from taking pills so I'm good with that. The smell, not so much.  So, I've learned to stop and smell the Salonpas, which makes it possible for me to stop and smell the roses.  Life is good.

I've become a lunch lady

No I have not taken a job in a school cafeteria, although that's starting to sound good.  No, everyday I get up and cruise the websites for a minimum of two hours on the hunt for a job.  Lately what I've been doing after that is going to lunch.  It's a tough job but I'm willing to take one for the team.

The lunches usually start around 11:30 and go to at least 2:00.  We aren't really eating the whole time I assure you, mostly it's talking.  And talking.  And just to change it up a little: talking.  I have been having lunch with friends that I have worked with.  Some friends from the distant past and some from the last job.  I have found that keeping in touch has become very important to me.  I've always liked and gotten along well with my co-workers, but recently they have become a life line of sorts.

When you have recently become one of the disenfranchised, it's good to feel like you are not the only one having a challenge in finding a new job.  Checking in with someone about resumes, on line applications and new ways to keep you busy is usually what the conversation is about.  Lots of listening, and nodding and then taking your turn for your pal to do the same for you is the routine.  You get tired of complaining about the situation to your loved ones, and trust me they get tired of hearing it (although I hear some families do a good job of hiding it).  Having someone to commiserate with is good for everyone: the persons in the situation and their loved ones all  get the benefit.  Loved ones are saved from hearing the same thing over and over, and the disenfranchised has someone to bounce ideas and feelings off of.

There are words of encouragement provided by someone who understands the situation that cannot be construed as obligatory or "required".  Comparing experiences becomes a seminar on how to do things more successfully.  Exchanging "Hints from Heloise" for a particular website can be huge.  All these things are given freely because we truly care about each other and want to help.  Then there is the laughing.

It feels good to laugh at yourself about getting stuck in some electronic loop with someone who has done the same thing.  Laughing with someone about not having any clothes for an interview because you have been wearing scrubs forever feels good.  Sharing that even if you did have the clothes they probably wouldn't fit due to stress eating.  Sharing that you are now coloring your own hair and that next time you are sure you will get the color right.

Eventually, I am sure we will all have jobs, even if they are not our dream jobs.  We will have gotten them from due diligence, dotting the I's and crossing the T's.  It is my hope however that we will continue to meet for lunch even then.  The lesson is your friends are always there, but we just don't always make the time to see them.   Life is short so remember to have lunch in the good times as well as the bad.