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Feelin’ Groovy, Felling Well…But…

Wellbutrin…wellbutrin-lawyer-lawsuit-law-firm-attorney-300x300.jpg

(or rather the generic version since my insurance will not pay for the real thing)

Well…

We have a rather strange relationship.

I take it.

It takes me.

Well…

We have separated for now.

Possibly a long separation…

Although (Wellbutrin) you are noted to deliver far more than I could ever imagine,

You don’t…and

Well…

You leave my brain in a state of discombobulation, like walking through a foggy swamp, pausing long enough to see the resident croc munching on my left big toe and then later  wondering where did it go?

My sleeping is flawless as you cruise through my blood, leading me on pinkish cotton candy paths until I step on the dog s***t someone left behind.

Appetite is in check as there is no appetite, for you are a cheap date who does not pay for food, you as a foodie who loves to boast about consuming,  but once I run away from you, my chomping mouth is on non-stop mode, savouring all the non-delicacies your stinginess denied.   download.jpg

Liver values checked every three months, just to make sure you’re not taking more than you should and yes, thank you my liver is quite clever at leavin’ you wishing and hoping

Okay…

Getting back to what was initially stated,

Wellbutrin and I are separated for now.

Maybe indefinitely.    pills

Maybe forever as was the case of my first so called civil court matrimony union to a man who thought I was wacko anyway…

Wellbutrin.

You are a wonder drug for some.

For me, too many questions on what you bring to the table…

What you have you done for me?…

Ms Jackson…if you’re nasty.

 

 

***BTW-Be so very careful-make sure you research and familiarize yourself with Wellbutrin. If you post ignorant statements, beware…

 

 

 

 

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Pieces…Bits and Pieces or WHEN

How quickly the quality of life changes from normal to abnormal

WHEN…

You shaved under your arms with a dull razor two days ago and now two days later your pits are burning

WHEN…

You apply aloe vera to the burning pits, feeling relief until you feel, the LUMPS

WHEN…

Survival mode kicks in, and you’ve been through this before with your mom and know the deal-time is of the essence, so they say, but when it’s happening to you, time goes on fast forward with you driving the train with a clutch when you only know how to drive automatic

WHEN…

Through the layers of receptionists at the doctor’s office and strategically planning, you finally get the receptionist who is willing to help you get that next day appointment

WHEN…

You go through a mammogram diagnostic (you don’t wanna know the details) and ultrasound on the day of your mother’s birth and you keep it on the down low, because your mom is 90 and can’t deal with the possibility of her daughter  being diagnosed with breast cancer, most especially when your mom went through the kidney bean episode  with her sister who died from it.

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WHEN…

You realize how YOU are the THREAD that holds your precious family (mom and fur babies) together and don’t have any provisions or alternative plans for them to follow if YOU should GO before THEM

WHEN…

The diagnosis is normal.

Nothing’s wrong.

No lumps.

Enlarged lymph nodes due to shaving.

And…

the doctor looks at you as if you have three heads but you could care less because being hysterically pro active when cancer runs in the family is far better than sitting back and wishing the lumps would magically disappear  overnight.

How quickly our quality of life changes from abnormal back to normal.

…Bye Felicia Razors…
Hello Nair!

Fragile…or How grief takes hold.

DSCN0869     Today, this day, the sky is grey and rain comes down. Sometimes slow, sometimes fast, sometimes taking a break and sometimes…still waiting for the next sometime to write.

In November I posted my blog piece, ‘I No Longer have a heart…’ on an animal mourning website. Not sure what prompt me to do so but at the time felt a need to release my mourning by whatever means necessary.  Forgot about the post, months passed and then Tuesday came.

I received an email from a pet owner. She lost her fur baby two days prior and was on her 18th hour of crying, screaming, lashing out and not knowing how to deal with the pain.

Like me, she had to make the decision to end her dog’s life and wanted to know how I was doing after six months had passed.

photo.PNGFloored I was.

Did not expect this.

Came out of nowhere into my email which I was checking via Iphone while sitting in Fairway’s parking lot.

Started crying in the parking lot.

Cried, when I got home.

Cried touching his ashes.

Cried.

So f*****g sick of crying.

I responded to her email to let her know it does get better. Memories and pictures guide you through. Allowing grief to take its course is a given.

And it does get better.IMG_1071.jpg

I’ve surrounded myself with so many memories of him. His leash hangs on my coat rack, his collar on a peg in my bedroom where his ashes also rest. I live in the place, Brooklyn and in the house, Berkeley where the memories began. I run in the park he so cherished, especially on Monday mornings after the weekend barbeque garbage lays waiting.

Pi Patel will always be with me.

 

Mean Girls pt2…

I returned to General Practice Veterinary Medicine after four months of working  12-14 overnight shifts in Veterinary Emergency care. Time spent in ER was incredible in terms of experience gained and processing death from trauma. I truly miss the doctors and eager vet students I was fortunate to work with. Their love of medicine and the desire to save all God’s creatures from injuries was unprecedented. I realize the privilege to work with this crew and although  BP misplaced me in terms of job title and where I truly needed to be, which inevitably led to my failure-I forgive. Nothing can replace what I saw, did, treated, prayed over, held as the last breath was released, can ever measure up to the experiences gained in working overnight emergency.

20151016_130102 (2)

Fate’s OHE-spay (uterus)

And…

BP will accept me back.

After…20141128_154254-1 (2)

More time spent in GP.

Yes. I miss ER.

But…

My body and emotional mindset is exhausted.

I no longer shed tears at PTS’s (put to sleep). 20141107_103448 (2)

Not in front of clients.

Not in the bathroom.

Not on the train going home.

But…

At night, when I stare at the ceiling at bedtime.

I guess it’s all good in some sick way for I can now concentrate on the owners and offer more support from mi alma which no longer feels.

My blog on transitioning to this career has ended. My thoughts on the continuance in this career  as well as school is now questionable. 20151024_071642 (2)

Because…

The other side of this business is still present and for that matter,  will always be. As long as there are insecure, unstable nurses-the Mean Girls , in this field the drama will thrive.

Don’t want to end up on NY1 so I’ve grown thick skin, a thick heart an emotional void and most importantly the desire to have only working relationship with them.

No, you are not my friend or close confident.

No, I do not need your approval to validate how I do my job.20150417_152313 (2)

No, I will not gossip about other co-workers, maliciously or even constructively with you.

No. No. No.

Accusing me of not cleaning?

Please watch the video.

2016 is in full string and transitions seem to be lining up. I’ve thought about leaving the state in search of Tech Nursing work. My mind is working, talking to others who have relocated and gauging if this is a necessary transition to make.

Time will tell. Actually the Fall will tell.

I’m biting at the bit and I love an adventure.

20141003_124721 (2)

Why not?

Cali, Georgia, one of the Carolina’s. Florida? Virginia, Washington, Seattle?

Who knows.

 

Muchness

More words…

Soon to come.

For a bit of a spell,

 I lost my muchness.

But… 

IT’S BACK!!!!

 

Since I stopped drinking…

Another part of my LENTEN observance involves drinking. Forty days and forty nights of alcohol abstinence.

Do I have a drinking problem? I don’t think so.

But…

Denial is difficult to overcome when nowadays the definition of alcoholism is so varied.

I have not had a glass of red/white wine, a vodka martini with three olives, double bourbon on the rocks in twenty-six days. Having two glasses of wine a night was a norm with the occasional martini/bourbon drink on the weekend. With the drinking, came the munching of cheese, salt, chocolate or whatever food complemented the drink at hand.

It has not been easy to not drink alcohol.

Social outings have diminished as most of the people I surround myself with drink. Then again, most of the people I surround myself with drink alcohol at bars. Social drinking is social drinking. We drink and socialize. Could we socialize without the drinking? Probably.

It has not been easy to not drink alcohol.

The glasses of wine I looked forward to after working an emotionally and physical shift are gone. Now I drink hot chocolate or chamomile or ginger tea. I no longer sit in front of the TV watching SVU re-runs, munching on bags of chips as Stabler and Benson solve a case. My class work is done on time and I actually retain the reading assignments.

Since I stopped drinking:20140331_072808 (2)

I have lost five pounds
Blood pressure reduced
Pulse is lower
Morning fog brain is gone
Active instead of sedentary-back to penguin running and registered to run a 5k in July
Junk food drastically cut down
Eating home food instead of ordering in
One restaurant outting-dinner with a diet coke
My glass is neither half-empty or half full-it is completely empty

What happens after forty days and nights of abstinence from alcohol? Will I return to old habits or is this experience a wake-up call towards better health.

It has not been easy to not drink alcohol.

The Sun will come out tomorrow…

I am sitting here at work listening to a client screaming profanity of the most creative kind at the staff. She is upset, very upset and frustrated at not hearing from the housing agency on whether she was awarded a place to live.

I do not know if the hope for a better tomorrow pulsates in the heart of this client or if the hope is snuffed out with just another day of scamming, lying, cheating, drinking, smoking and scrapping.

I am sitting here at work listening to a client crying hysterically because she left her cell phone charging in the cafeteria to go to the bathroom and upon her return the phone was gone. Her anger and rage were not directed towards the loss of the phone but rather what the phone contained-the pictures of her son and lawyer contact.

I do not know if tomorrow will solve the location of her phone or if the loss of the pictures is the final push into severe depression and chemical abuse.

I am sitting here at work listening to a client singing a Whitney Houston song. She sings loudly off key and I secretly wish for earplugs to muffle the sound. But, I have no earplugs and the singing, (or more like a banshee in heat wailing) continues.

I do not know if tomorrow will bring the same happiness this client felt while singing or if the singing is replaced by extreme depressive outbursts once the drugs run out and wear off.

I am sitting here at work listening to the outside sounds of the neighbourhood I work in. It is a mixture of police and fire truck sirens, car horns blaring, garbage trucks rolling and loading, yelling and screaming with an occasional laugh thrown in.

I do know tomorrow will bring the same sounds, the same sensory abuse of the nerves and whether I am sitting at this desk or in another country, the same sounds will continue to repeat.

So goes another Monday morning of normal activity at the shelter. Rainy weather tends to brings out extreme emotional reactions as the clients are cooped up inside a cement block building with little activities to keep them occupied or distracted. The same holds for some of the staff who work in this same environment-forty hour a week.

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