Posted on by Anelemc

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.

 

Posted on by Anelemc

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.

Posted on by Anelemc · 1 Comment

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.

Posted on by Anelemc

To be or not to be…

I am THE self-saboteur of the most unflinching kind. The irony in honouring myself with the title lies in my inability to realize when my self- sabotaging occurs. I guess that’s why I’m so good at it-it takes years to discover the outcome of the self-sabotage but only seconds to execute and dissolve what might have been.

At this time, going into specifics and personal details of my past self-sabotages, would only ignite sadness. Picking through the rubble of horribly made decisions and rediscovering the skeleton remains of their consequences is not a good thing for the alma (soul). A quick backward glance at the past does permit clarity and sometimes answers into the cause of the self-sabotage but as long as the glance remains a glance. Wallowing in the realization of the destruction caused by self- sabotage can do permanent harm.

‘Googling’ a fixed definition on what self-sabotage is, resulted in endless hits of personal sites with personal testaments too endless to write in this blog.

Instead, I will write my own.

The act of self-sabotage is personal and involves disrupting the outcome of a possibly good thing unfolding for the self. For example, take an attempt to climb the corporate ladder. The credentials and degrees are in place, the years in the biz accumulated and the references secured but the interview for the VP of such and such departments takes less than 10 minutes. By wearing sneakers and not removing the large silver hoops in the nose piercings, the candidate sabotaged the chance for promotion. One could say, the forgetting to dress appropriate is legit, but seriously, if you really want that job or feel you truly deserve it, you would not forget to remove the piercings and most certainly would endure the pain of five-inch heels or shoe tip pinchers to get the job.

Of course, this is sedate compared to how far and deep self-sabotage can go.

Relationships can be self-sabotaged when one wants more than the other wants and seeks to cement an inseparable bond as in a pregnancy, which appears unplanned though really planned.  Feelings of worthlessness and creating situations which reinforce these negative feelings are usually led by self-sabotage as in: I’m fat, so I’ll keep on eating, since I’m fat anyway, and I’ll never get skinny, I might as well keep on eating, Lay’s potato chips, one chip at a time until the whole bag is gone…and then since I gained 10 pounds, I’ll get another bag…this ends here.

Is there a solution towards ending the self-sabotage reign?

I guess acknowledging the sabotaging is the first step. Then a search for triggers, which is what makes it happen to begin with, and then analyzing the possible root cause behind the self-sabotage.  And finally, finding help in coming to terms with it. stop-self-sabotage-behaviour

For me, self-sabotage is about control and negative feelings. Often, my worried state of mind tends to frolic in the past, skip through the present and sit anxiously awaiting for the grass to grow in the future. It is critical for my state of mind to be in the present.

As the sage Oogway in “Kung Fu Panda”, said to Po Ping, “…You are too concern about what was and what will be… Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, but today is a gift…that’s why it is called present…”

 

*illustration from the web

Posted on by Anelemc

The Christian thing to do…

At one time, I thought being a part of a church would lead to spiritual growth.

At one time, I thought parishioners cared about the health and well-being of one another.

At one time, I thought attending services would lead to understanding and deeper appreciation of the Holy Scriptures.

I thought wrong.

Just because one is, a Christian does not automatically make them one and then again, my definition on what a Christian should be is just that, my definition.  My Christianity or what I believe defines me as one, are based on my own experiences and interactions within the church. No two experiences are similar, nor are scripture interpretations, prayers said, if at all, after communion, or what hat is appropriate for Easter. Christianity is a self-thing not communal as I once thought, which, proved to be wrong as well.

The Ten Commandments are a Christians’ guide to living life, but what one perceives as coveted could be another’s’ striving to attain the American dream. (Although the six room mansion with an indoor pool and marble bathroom is a bit much). If we truly loved one another, we would put forth the love we’d like to receive and not bear false witness with gossiping, lying, and acting incredibly cruel because we can. We would not cheat, murder (squashing an idea before it has roots is murder of the mind kind), or say, “OMG” at the slightest impulse or adulation of whatever.

Lessons I rather not learn are learnt. 551-001

Christians or parishioners are not the apostles, nor is the preacher, Jesus or God.

At one time, I thought, at least at my church, we, the parishioners were to mimic the apostles in spreading the good word and treating each other with love and kindness, as Jesus taught.

At one time, I thought the priest, preacher, rector or whatever the correct pc title is, were the instruments of God and through Jesus’ life and preaching would lead by example.

I thought wrong.

What I find are parishioners who are mean, afraid and quite frankly, lost. What I find is conflict and abusiveness with the leadership. What I find is a person, me, who once so adored her church, torn with a lack of trust in what is said and done. Well, what is said and not done or what should be said and done or not doing or saying anything at all.

I don’t know if I am the Christian I would like to be. It is hard to tear away the layers and see the truth that maybe in some way I am like those whom I criticize. Worse, is seeing the truth and not knowing what to do with it.

Transitions continue, welcomed or not, bearing good news or showing up the ugly truths.

Instead of participating in this Lenten season, I find quietness, comfort and solace within my Forward Movement, at home with a bag of Frito lays.

Posted on by Anelemc

Those who are full of themselves…

Full of themselves-to be full of oneself or one’s own importance-Word Reference Mine[1]

Those who are full of Themselves:

-are downright annoying if you are stuck in the company of one

– will make you meditate to Buddha for loving/kindness and throw in a prayer to the One and only if you are stuck in the company of two or more!

-are self-righteous and love to sit on imaginary pedestals of grandeur as the ‘ordinaries’ muddle about at their feet

– are the cause of severe trauma to the mind and ears for the mind will strain to dissect through the verbal bull and the ears will develop extra wax to block out the irritating shrill of their voice (this has yet to happen to me, but I thought I’d put it out there)

Those who are Full of themselves:

-believe they are the only ones who have talent of any kind

-believe the world centers on and revolves around their schedules, thoughts, needs, wants…

-believe their way is the way, the only way and the ONE’s way needs major adjusting

-believe they are the cream of nectar, do not smell and can wear the same underwear for days on end (not necessarily true, but who cares?)

Those who are full of them Selves:

-may lack self worth

-may be insecure in the most unhealthy way

-may be full of them selves due to the fullness of past abuse endured

-may NEED the most compassion, understanding and patience from a person who is not full of them selves can give

Posted on by Anelemc · 1 Comment

My Space…

I ride the NYC subways.

Not by choice, by necessity and a bit of convenience.

Personal space is hard to stake out and defend during rush hour ride in a NYC train because…

I have serious issues with personal space especially when it is invaded by humans or objects, not dogs or cats but definitely waterbugs!

My personal space is an invisible fortress equipped with an imaginary psychological alarm system installed along the diameter. It sounds off when someone or something (pocketbook, backpack, umbrella, shopping bag or unruly child) crosses over.

When that happens, feelings of suffocation and entrapment follow. Every muscle in my body tenses with pain. Relief appears when space is restored to my personal, for as the room to breathe grows, muscles unwind and relax.

Yes, I can walk the two miles to work. Quite often, I do, weather permitting but time constraints, pouring rain and slushy snow can redirect my walking to the train.  I’d rather drive my car but parking is non-existent or expensive at the parking lots where I work. I’d rather ride a bike but I’m afraid of riding with cars who don’t like driving with bikes.

Yes, the imaginary psychological alarm system works great alerting me to those or things I’d rather not have near me. Unfortunately, the system does not physically prevent those or things I’d rather not have near me from being near me.

I don’t have the space problem outside on the streets because…

Walking on the sidewalks of the city within large crowds presents no threat to my personal space. My invisible fortress becomes pliable, shifting shape and thickness, folding in, bulging out. The imaginary psychological alarm is LOW or at times turned OFF. Body is in motion, weaving in and out, dodging a bike, bumping slightly into a pedestrian (and not saying I’m sorry), steps bouncing as fresh air circumvents the body and kindles mí alma.

At home amongst my clutter and neglected Spinet my psychological alarm lies disabled, plugged into my brain recharging for the next day usage.

Posted on by Anelemc

“You talk too much…”

You talk too much, you worry me to death.
You talk too much, you even worry my pet.
You just talk, talk too much.
—Joe Jones

You know who they are and avoid them whenever possible but most times, AVOIDANCE IS FUTILE. Imagine having one as a colleague who must be worked with in order to close that lucrative deal. Or worse yet, you live with one and the connection cannot be easily severed and frankly, you can’t complain about this because you knew about the talking too much beforehand.

A person who talks too much is self-absorbed and fixated upon expressing thoughts and viewpoints, listening only to their voices. At times their words are harmless fluffs of letters and vowels. Other times, their words, especially the words which begin with capital letters are fueled by hate, feed off unhealthy gossip and revel in criticisms of the MOST NASTY KIND. Attempting to get a word or two in is impossible because a person who talks too much has an overwhelming amount of words to expel. Overdosing on one’s own words is possible although I have yet to witness it.

After a hardy session in the company of a person who talks too much, when my ears are finally free and able to breathe, compassion sets in. I realize loneliness instigates the need to be heard. To be lonely and not heard is emotional damage. I make a thought promise to give more of my listening ears next time, knowing in truth, I will avoid that person at all costs. And I should know better.

As a KID, I was a person who talked too much.

Refusing to subscribe to the ‘children should be seen not heard’ train of thought, my mouth rambled on producing coherent and incoherent words which flowed from morning to night. Only sleep afforded my mouth rest. My demand to be heard was carried out regardless of feedback or television volume turned high.

Granted, I was annoying but my motivation for talking too much was the result of abrupt life changes: parents’ separation, siblings marrying and/or moving out, and cousins moving to Jersey. These changes left empty slots on my social calendar. Social verbal exchange was greatly reduced-in other words, no one to hang around with or annoy. No one to spy on to later retell the events to another with acute attention to details while munching on a bag of Wise potato chips.

As an ADULT, I do not talk much (I don’t) and maybe that is the reason I attract persons who talk too much.

Posted on by Anelemc

“Sorry seems to be the hardest word…”

1. feeling regret, compunction, sympathy, pity, etc.: to be sorry to leave one’s friends; to be sorry for a remark; to be sorry for someone in trouble.

2. regrettable or deplorable; unfortunate; tragic: a sorry situation; to come to a sorry end.

3. sorrowful, grieved, or sad: Was she sorry when her brother died?

4. associated with sorrow; suggestive of grief or suffering; melancholy; dismal.

5. wretched, poor, useless, or pitiful: a sorry horse.

What does it mean to feel  Sorry, to say you are Sorry or to write you are Sorry?

 If I say I’m Sorry do I admit guilt, admit I’ve done wrong? Am I trying to correct a grave mistake or pacify hysteria? Does it matter if Sorry is said immediately or two years later?

Sorry is said for loss, for someone else’s loss or when a physical or verbal slight is unleashed. I bump into someone accidently, I say sorry. I bump into someone on purpose, I don’t.  I feel sorry for abused and/or neglected animals. I do not feel sorry for those who did the abuse and/or neglect.

When I say I am Sorry, it seems as if redemption takes hold, the negative vibe releases and closure is complete. When Sorry is said to me, I forgive automatically (at least I convince myself I do) even though the residue of the slight lingers.

Sorry can be complex or simple.  One may have to repeat it several times for its effect to take place while others undo the damage in one take. “I’m sorry- I’m sorry too.” Did you say sorry because you meant it? Or out of an automatic response like in “I love you- I love you too.

How about the “I’m not sorry” which opens up a new level of writing possibilities filled with vengeance and strife, great for a blog piece but not one I care to venture into-well just a sample.

 ‘Yes I ate the last piece of cake and I’m not sorry because you ate the last piece of sausage I was saving for breakfast and in order to feel better about that offense for which you have yet to apologize, I in turn, ate the last piece of velvet cake specially ordered with organic ingredients,  from,  Dean and Deluca. ‘