Thursday, April 29, 2010

I really am beginning to believe that old cliche "A good man is hard to find". In the past month I've had the opportunity to spend time with a couple of fascinating men who repeatedly tell me they "enjoy my company" or "I had such a good time with you, we'll go out again" or even "I'd like to see you again". Only to have them disappear off the face of the earth never to be heard from again. I don't get it! Be honest with me, I'm a big girl, I'm not going to get hysterical at the thought you might only want to "be friends".

And then to add insult to injury in trying to be a patient and family advocate the civilian RN in me inadvertently pissed off a military RN. Ohhh boy! Let me tell ya! That was bad news! You'd think we did the job we do to help people but NOPE, that is not the case as was clearly evident by the military nurse's attitude and complaints. I'm thinking she doesn't know what the word "compassionate" means. Needless to say Clara is now in a time out.

So in the past couple of weeks I've had my prfessional integrity questioned and my personal attractibility (is that even a word??) devalued. Nothing like feeling worthless both professionally and personally.

I think I hear the beach calling my name. . . .waves crashing on the shore, warm weather and sunny skies. . . .ocean therapy. . . oh where are you??

Saturday, April 03, 2010

I'm three days into a stretch of seven off. Where do I start? Do I tell you after receiving the quadruple amputee from the aerovac team I drove home in tears? I cried the entire drive home and continued to cry, seated on the floor of my living room, puppy at my side. Returning to work the following day I felt as if I simply went through the motions of my job. I wasn't assigned to the young man missing limbs and I was thankful for that. Later that night as I lay in bed eyes closed the picture that I saw over and over was of a man with no legs and no arms.

I wanted to talk with friends, combat veterans all of them. One medical, the other a ground pounder. I needed to talk with a combat vet, someone who has seen the horrors I witnessed and who could without a doubt relate to the thoughts in my head. But they were too busy, busy with their lives and jobs and they had no time for me. The "in"significant other is no more. He's another that was too busy and I clearly was not on his priority list. So with nary a word I ceased any contact I may have had with him.

Please tell me when this heart of mine will find someone who thinks I am the best thing that ever happened to him? Is that too much to ask? Or am I deceiving myself in thinking it might actually happen?

I tried to retreat to the beach, a place of solitude for me. The waves crashing on the shore, the warm sun as I sit on the sand is therapy of a priceless kind. For three days I wanted to run by the ocean with an empty mind, run until my thoughts purged themselves of everything sad and ugly. I wanted to laugh at puppy as she chased seagulls, head cocked at that perplexed angle and eat ice cream and funnel cakes and other fat filled comfort foods. That therapy too was doomed as puppy became ill and home we went, in search of our vet.

Tomorrow is Easter. How I wish for a rebirth too! A resurrection of my compassion, joy and peace. How I wish for the ability to sleep at night without visions of dead Soldiers and Marines missing limbs, skulls, faces. Tomorrow on the most joyous day of the Christian faith I pray I shall find the comfort that, of late, has been most elusive.