Be Careful how you treat someone…

Be


To just be, at times can involve memories
Of losing someone to death of the most painful kind
Exposed and raw
Carry on, you must 
For work and play outside the haven of your home

Careful
With a suit of emotional armour
I ventured into a space
Once considered safe
But no longer
For a volcano was brewing its magma at my core

How
A confrontation with a white man
of the most dreadful kind
Words thrown in a sentence
(abrupt, harsh, condescending)
Defense to those words thrown in a sentence
(ghetto, Sheman-hear me roar persona, 0-60 in one second)

Due to my talking with a person sitting next to him

“Stop screaming in my ear!” –the belligerant white guy

“Excuse me, what did you say?!” – me the person of colour warming up

I can go on as he obviously did not receive the notice on messing with a woman of colour going through mourning and not having the time or patience to deal with a man, who addressed me in a tone uncalled for,

But… I’ll stop here for it did get ugly as I told him, “Don’t make me go ghetto on you” and he said, “You are ghetto”. Magma turned into lava and flowed…that’s how it went until WORDS OF THE MOST UGLY KIND sprewed forth in fire and brimstone from my mouth
I left seething in invisible black ash through the exit door

You
Not asking for an education on your past
I was schooled about it on the ride home
On their cell phones two members of the group in the space
I once thought safe disclosed your past and mugshot
You are not a nice person
You were arrested for stealing $37k from a client
Posing as a lawyer when you were disbarred years ago
For illegal practices

Obviously money and you are not a good mix
like alcohol to an alcoholic
like a rock to a crackhead
like chasing waterfalls and slipping
like the lucky charms guy engulfed in sugar looking for his charms

I did not know what you were emotionally carrying that day and time. You did not know what I was emotionally carrying that day and time.

But yet?…What would Jesus do?
(Not referring to the’Jesus Gone Wild’ moments: cursing and killing a fig tree, flipping tables and using a whip, hanging out with sinners)

But
Love your neighbour, see God in everyone, treat others as you’d like to be treated
Those words were not in my heart on that day and time

Treat
Be careful how you treat someone for you do not know what they are going through


That is my mantra when I walk out the door into the world
But I failed that day
I reacted
I did not think before speaking

Someone
I have changed in the past 8 years 
Mom, my mom is no longer here 
to soften my extremes at the world
When she passed
I took it upon myself to become what I admired most about her
No matter how people treated her, talked down to her, forced her to live with an aunt in another country,
Margarita, my mom always showed kindness

In that moment of abusive words firing back and forth
I did not take the higher ground when

Kindness was needed

(c) IMOB/Walsh-McCalla

I always cry when a McCalla dies…

Those words were first written in Tio Victor’s piece. I’ve shed many a tear for those who passed on due to illness’ that showed no mercy, was brutal and bent on destruction. It’s one thing when it happens to your parents, tíos, tías and even primos …

(c) IMOB-Walsh/McCalla

But
when it makes an appearance on a sibling
That’s a whole new realm and you can’t help to wonder 
When you’ll be next

I don’t cry for the Walsh’s
Except when my father died
The day before his 90th birthday
His spirit visited me and he was angry

Angry for being taken from living
Angry for the last drink not had
Angry for eating his last meal
Angry.

(c) IMOB-Walsh/McCalla

The McCalla I cry for today is my sister Evie
Although technically she is a Walsh
She arrived through a McCalla
And that makes her both

Nicknamed Judy for her JudyGarland eyes
Big brown with the longest lashes
Those eyes required glasses of the strongest kind
To view the world but not life ahead

Judy was whimsical
An artist with the capacity to draw
Images of fantasy and fiction
Prompted by her obsession with romance novels

(c) IMOB-Walsh/McCalla

Artists run in the McCalla family
From photographers to those who draw and painted
So does mental illness.
From those who isolate and those who drink

LGBT slides 
Beneath the surface 
The ones who never got married, never had a partner
Who live on the West coast away from the East

But
Back to my sister Judy
A life lived
To the fullest?
I will never know

(c) IMOB-Walsh/McCalla

A life lived 
Within her means and understanding 
Of the world she lived in
Comfortably existing in

I once told my sister I love you and she said she loved me too.

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.

 

Mi primo is no longer hurting…

My cousin Zarak Mohandas Delattibodier has kidney disease and received dialysis two to three times a week.

He needs a kidney.

A donor was identified and during the beginning stages of gathering donor information, he developed an infection in the mitral valve of his heart.

The infection was resistant to antibiotics.

Zarak also had severe periodontal disease.

The hospital released my cousin after a four-day stay and sent him home with antibiotics for the heart and dental appointments to begin work on the perio. One week later, Zarak had difficulty breathing and went back to the hospital where he lost consciousness and was placed on a ventilator and an iv catheter with major antibiotics.

The infection of the heart was  fungal.

Mi pimo’s body was too weak to fight. He coded numerous times and stabilized with resuscitation but brain damage may have occurred and he could not breathe on his own.

The ‘No Resuscitation’ directive was put in place. Then rescinded by his wife who is separated from him.

Mi primo is no longer hurting…
No anxiety about the kidney donor’s health condition or going through dialysis

Mi primo is no longer hurting…
He may pass on in California, where he wanted to live and will receive a military burial

Mi primo is no longer hurting…
He’ll join his mom, mi Tía, whom he loved and whose hand he held as she drew her last breath

Mi primo is no longer hurting…
He can play his sax and jam with the angels

Mi primo is no longer hurting…
He can eat all the beef jerky, fried chicken and fries he desires with Excelsior Cabernet

Mi primo is no longer hurting…
He doesn’t have to carry the weight of his family’s dysfunction on his back anymore

I wish the decision could be made to turn off the switch that would enable his alma to be free…

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