I sincerely believe that the over flux of reality TV shows is dumbing down societies intelligence. I am not looking down on those who watch reality shows, because I, myself, wonder what in God's good name is John Gosselin doing with cubic zirconium studs in his ear, with his shirt half buttoned and parading in front of TV cameras while his soon to be ex-wife is at home with eight kids- and all the women say, “that’s a man for ya!"- And why do I know so much about this couples situation? Why do I care? Because I'm a victim of reality TV.
One reason I enrolled in classes this semester was to keep my brain from dry rotting. To often, I found myself in front of the “tele” watching people live there lives while I lay on the sofa living mine. It's depressing when you think about it. At one point I contemplated canceling the cable; my husband, of course, wouldn't let this happen. I needed a reason to break the habit in order for the habit to be broke. I enjoy learning, but I was tired of learning about "The Girls Next Door" and rationalizing my addiction as a "guilty pleasure."
After watching a good few hours of so-called "reality", I would, somehow, be mentally and physically drained of energy. I felt as if the couch and the TV were in alliance to eat my brain, and I was the unassuming schmuck unaware of their partaking. At some point I became aware, which is when I decided to go back to school, for no other reason then to prevent my mind from becoming void. Being in school forces me to read, and forces me to think; yes, sometimes I need to be forced to think.
If the couch and the TV have this effect on me, I assume it has this same effect on others. What if we all replaced TV with books? Would there be less violence, illiteracy and unemployment? People could save money on $1500 flat screen HDTVs and $100 a month cable bills and use that money, instead, towards their mortgage payment so that the government wouldn't have to come up with some sort of bail out bill to bail them out. Seems common sense, to me.
I would be lying if I said that I don't watch TV. I do, but not near as much. At the end of the day, after having established a certain sense of accomplishment, I still turn the TV on and veg out to some mindless show on E! At times, I need a state of mindlessness, and that's okay because my mind is already filled enough not to let the mindless banter of reality TV to enter.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Thursday, November 5, 2009
My Backyards Ecosystem
I have these little piles of dirt that are randomly scattered throughout the yard. On occasion, I'll see small throws of dirt sputtering out like an anemic waterfall from these mounds. Yes in deed, I do believe that I've got a mole. When we first noticed this, I was excited, much to my husbands chagrin. I am an animal lover and I have never in my life seen a mole. I was intrigued. My imagination pictured a fuzzy little hamster-like creature with no eyes and human-like hands living in our backyard, living in his natural habitat. And being the nice, tolerable people that we are we would not mess with Mother Nature and her animals. This resolution to not bother the mole in his habitat quickly absolved when he began digging up flowers and making bigger mole holes. I began rationalizing my annoyance with him in my head- "Who is paying for the mortgage on this house anyways?"
One night we had a few friends over in our backyard when we began discerning little sprays of dirt coming up form one of the mole holes. Frankie, my cat, quickly rushed over to the hole and stuck his nose in it. We were all cheering for him because we thought, of course, that he would capture and kill the mole. Are thoughts were wrong, because Frankie turned around, stuck his butt over the hole, and began to defecate right into the hole. Needless to say this didn't kill the mole, although it did give Frankie a new idea that the little mounds of dirt would be his new bathrooms.
A curious thing began to transpire with the mole's holes. We got a puppy, named him Gumbo, potty trained him, taught him how to walk on a leash and how to fetch a tennis ball, you know... puppy training 101. But we were never quite sure why when he would come in from the back yard he would smell like a horse. My attempt in figuring out what exactly a horse smelled like-so that I could pin down the smell-led me to the conclusion that a horse smells like feces, and our dog, therefore, smelled like sh$%! I couldn't find the source. I checked all four paws, his nose, his ears, his butt....I couldn't find anything.
The next day my husband and I were throwing the tennis ball to our dog and he would fetch. The last throw of the day landed in a hill of mole dirt. Gumbo ran towards the ball, stuck his nose in the dirt, and came up eating a cat turd. That was it for playing fetch. He could not be distracted from his tasty treat, and we could not pry the nasty waste matter out of his mouth. He was as happy as a puppy could be.
So it is what it is, and I can't do anything about it. The mole digs a hole, makes a heap of dirt, which the cat poops in, and the dog eats the poop. I wonder if the cycle ever completely revolves? Does the mole eat the dog poop and will the cat ever eat the mole? All I know is that I have no control over this situation. Mole traps, enticing my dog with real dog treats-nothing works. Ecology is a phenomenal science and I realize every living thing does its own thing to keep the world turning, but why does my dog eat poop? I LOVE LOVE LOVE my dog, but this really makes me question his animals instincts. Maybe his instincts are telling him to do it for the ecosystem; maybe it's his way of "recycling". I doubt it.
One night we had a few friends over in our backyard when we began discerning little sprays of dirt coming up form one of the mole holes. Frankie, my cat, quickly rushed over to the hole and stuck his nose in it. We were all cheering for him because we thought, of course, that he would capture and kill the mole. Are thoughts were wrong, because Frankie turned around, stuck his butt over the hole, and began to defecate right into the hole. Needless to say this didn't kill the mole, although it did give Frankie a new idea that the little mounds of dirt would be his new bathrooms.
A curious thing began to transpire with the mole's holes. We got a puppy, named him Gumbo, potty trained him, taught him how to walk on a leash and how to fetch a tennis ball, you know... puppy training 101. But we were never quite sure why when he would come in from the back yard he would smell like a horse. My attempt in figuring out what exactly a horse smelled like-so that I could pin down the smell-led me to the conclusion that a horse smells like feces, and our dog, therefore, smelled like sh$%! I couldn't find the source. I checked all four paws, his nose, his ears, his butt....I couldn't find anything.
The next day my husband and I were throwing the tennis ball to our dog and he would fetch. The last throw of the day landed in a hill of mole dirt. Gumbo ran towards the ball, stuck his nose in the dirt, and came up eating a cat turd. That was it for playing fetch. He could not be distracted from his tasty treat, and we could not pry the nasty waste matter out of his mouth. He was as happy as a puppy could be.
So it is what it is, and I can't do anything about it. The mole digs a hole, makes a heap of dirt, which the cat poops in, and the dog eats the poop. I wonder if the cycle ever completely revolves? Does the mole eat the dog poop and will the cat ever eat the mole? All I know is that I have no control over this situation. Mole traps, enticing my dog with real dog treats-nothing works. Ecology is a phenomenal science and I realize every living thing does its own thing to keep the world turning, but why does my dog eat poop? I LOVE LOVE LOVE my dog, but this really makes me question his animals instincts. Maybe his instincts are telling him to do it for the ecosystem; maybe it's his way of "recycling". I doubt it.
Tired, Confused and Fed Up
This last week rode rough as a corn cob. I am attributing it to working nights for the the past 3 years- I think it's finally catching up with me. The days that I am not working I can only sleep 4 hours at a time, which means that I might wake up at 3am, go back to bed around 10am, wake up again around 4pm and so on and so forth...
I once read that working night shift for a long time can diminish your life span about 10 years and that it even increases your risk of cancer! This shouldn't be worth the extra $4/hr they pay me to work nights, but even still, it is hard for me to walk away from the extra money. Why is this? Why am I putting more value on money than I am on my health and well being? Why, for that matter, am I even doing something I don't even enjoy? Sure, it's a job and no one likes to work, but I don't mind work, I just want to do work that I like. Am I naive thinking that this is possible? This is the main reason I am back in school- I'm casting myself out into a sea of possibilities waiting for something to bite, but attending classes from in front of my home computer makes it difficult to discern when my fishing lure bobbles; something seems to get lost in the distance.
Maybe it's not because I work nights that I am feeling so tired and worn, maybe it's nursing in general. Everyone always says, "That's the great thing about nursing, there is so much you can do with it", to which I say: Most of the nursing jobs available involve doing more or less the same thing- being overworked and under appreciated. People assume that nurses just pass out medications and take vital signs. This assumption is why so many new nurses leave nursing with in the first few years of their career and is why their is a nation wide shortage of nurses.
Nurses are with a patient for 12 hours, while doctors are only there for 10 minutes- at the most. Doctors do not get pooped on, slobbered on,and bled on every single day, which is why they can wear white lab coats; you hardly ever see a nurse wearing white. Whatever happens in those 12 hours is the nurses responsibility;nurses are the "eyes and ears of the doctors". Doctors have a HUGE responsibility; I'm not saying they don't. I'm just saying that nurses do, as well.
Hospitals do not staff enough nursing assistants and ancillary staff to help fill in the gaps and so the nurses are not able to give patients the attention they deserve. A nurse should not be given 10 patients to take care of, this is not safe. Families end up bitter, rightfully so, because they don't feel that their loved one is getting enough attention.
One main reason that nurses have been taken away from the bedside is because of the amount of charting that is required. This is to protect the hospitals and nurses from over zealous lawyers who want to find any reason to sue and end up driving up the cost of health care and diminishing the quality of care; therefore, they are essentially kicking themselves and there loved ones in the rear. I can't even begin to describe the amount of time I spend dating, signing, putting check marks here and there. It has gone too far. Nursing has become a paper trail.
I'm not sure what led me on such a tangent. Maybe I didn't realize how much of this nonsense is what makes nursing unenjoyable for me. I feel I am catering to hospitals and lawyers more than I am taking care of patients. The satisfaction I do get from nursing comes, not when I get a raise or on Nursing Appreciation Day, but when I am at the bedside giving care and the patient, or the family, say's "Thank you".
I once read that working night shift for a long time can diminish your life span about 10 years and that it even increases your risk of cancer! This shouldn't be worth the extra $4/hr they pay me to work nights, but even still, it is hard for me to walk away from the extra money. Why is this? Why am I putting more value on money than I am on my health and well being? Why, for that matter, am I even doing something I don't even enjoy? Sure, it's a job and no one likes to work, but I don't mind work, I just want to do work that I like. Am I naive thinking that this is possible? This is the main reason I am back in school- I'm casting myself out into a sea of possibilities waiting for something to bite, but attending classes from in front of my home computer makes it difficult to discern when my fishing lure bobbles; something seems to get lost in the distance.
Maybe it's not because I work nights that I am feeling so tired and worn, maybe it's nursing in general. Everyone always says, "That's the great thing about nursing, there is so much you can do with it", to which I say: Most of the nursing jobs available involve doing more or less the same thing- being overworked and under appreciated. People assume that nurses just pass out medications and take vital signs. This assumption is why so many new nurses leave nursing with in the first few years of their career and is why their is a nation wide shortage of nurses.
Nurses are with a patient for 12 hours, while doctors are only there for 10 minutes- at the most. Doctors do not get pooped on, slobbered on,and bled on every single day, which is why they can wear white lab coats; you hardly ever see a nurse wearing white. Whatever happens in those 12 hours is the nurses responsibility;nurses are the "eyes and ears of the doctors". Doctors have a HUGE responsibility; I'm not saying they don't. I'm just saying that nurses do, as well.
Hospitals do not staff enough nursing assistants and ancillary staff to help fill in the gaps and so the nurses are not able to give patients the attention they deserve. A nurse should not be given 10 patients to take care of, this is not safe. Families end up bitter, rightfully so, because they don't feel that their loved one is getting enough attention.
One main reason that nurses have been taken away from the bedside is because of the amount of charting that is required. This is to protect the hospitals and nurses from over zealous lawyers who want to find any reason to sue and end up driving up the cost of health care and diminishing the quality of care; therefore, they are essentially kicking themselves and there loved ones in the rear. I can't even begin to describe the amount of time I spend dating, signing, putting check marks here and there. It has gone too far. Nursing has become a paper trail.
I'm not sure what led me on such a tangent. Maybe I didn't realize how much of this nonsense is what makes nursing unenjoyable for me. I feel I am catering to hospitals and lawyers more than I am taking care of patients. The satisfaction I do get from nursing comes, not when I get a raise or on Nursing Appreciation Day, but when I am at the bedside giving care and the patient, or the family, say's "Thank you".
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Pursuit in Selflessness
Like an only child I am into self evaluation which is probably a form of narcissism. This can make for an exhausting day. It's funny, and a bit ironic, that the more time a person spends thinking about themselves the more miserable they become. I always try to remember this when I am feeling melancholy- that it means I'm spending too much time dwelling on myself.
The other day at work, I was in the midst of a self loathing funk. As I was plodding along towards the coffee machine, I was asked into a patients room to assist another nurse in repositioning a patient. I walked into the room and saw a face mirroring an age close to my own. His mouth was open, allowing the drool to slide down his chin; his body was contracted and was leaning towards his left side. This is not an uncommon positions to see patients in, especially in the ICU, but it's usually seen in older patients with a neurological defect. This patient was only 28 years old and had been this way all of his life. Needless to say, my gloom turned into guilt- guilt about being healthy and guilt about being so self centered.
I try to catch myself when I notice I'm falling into an egomaniacal vacuum, but while doing so I trip up by obsessing about why it's so difficult for me to maintain a selfless perspective.
I looked at this boy as his eyes blinked and occasionally shifted direction; as I thought of his unfortunate situation I couldn't help but compare my life to his. His was a life that had been given over to the state by his parents; he is from a State School. I'm not sure what is meant by this. Are they teaching him anything? Is he learning? I think it is, more or less, a term used to describe a nursing home for patients who are not elder. Children who don't make the cut in life and whose parents aren't able to take on the burden.
My life has consisted of exploration and driven by my own aspirations. What are his? Is his life fulfilled in his imagination? Does the imagination compensate for what is lost in these circumstances? What is an imagination to a life that is not fully lived? Is he miserable because all he has is his own thoughts to which he is locked in or is he completely catatonic and ignorant to even think anything? It is so sad. How can I even begin to complain about being at work when I have a healthy mind and body?
Because my body healthy, I'm able to enjoy this beautiful day.
Because my mind is healthy, I'm able to pursue my endeavors.
The reality that it takes another persons misfortunes to appreciate what you have is an upsetting truth. The Bible says in Galatians 6:5-Do not compare yourself to others for each man will bear his own burden.
Why, then, are some more burdened than others? The old adage life is not fair is learned in childhood when your mother doesn't let you eat ice cream for dinner, but it is made into a profound truth when as an adult you realize the real meaning of the childhood proverb.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Not Always on Time
I believe that I'm living a day behind everyone else. Maybe I somehow got off the worlds calender and on to the Mayan calender,which means that my world will be ending in 2012. This could mean that it really doesn't matter that I turned the second draft of my essay in a day late, because I won't exist two years from now.
I am writing this with urgency because I have to leave for work in less then an hour, and being that I thought it was yesterday, I didn't realize this was due today (today meaning Oct. 10 2009). My anxiety about this, coupled with the big cup of coffee I just guzzled, has given me shaky hands and a palpating heart. What good is all the anxiousness? What, in the grand sense if things, does it matter if I don't get an A in this class; I should really be more concerned with what I have learned opposed to what letter grade I made. Does one reflect the other? Maybe, but maybe not. If I had not taken this class then I wouldn't have learned anything, which would qualify as an F, not actually or concretely because I wouldn't have been in the class to begin with, but intellectually. Regardless of what I make in this class, I am a more educated person because of it. Focusing on a letter grade, instead of focusing on what you are comprehending and how you can apply it to life, is shallow.
Phew...I might be rationalizing unacceptable behavior, but I needed to give myself a pep talk so that I could persevere. I don't want to be the one always late in life, I've always heard that it's a form of passive aggression and I don't like the idea of being an aggressive person. Thanks for listening to my ramblings. I feel slightly more centered and a little less late.
I am writing this with urgency because I have to leave for work in less then an hour, and being that I thought it was yesterday, I didn't realize this was due today (today meaning Oct. 10 2009). My anxiety about this, coupled with the big cup of coffee I just guzzled, has given me shaky hands and a palpating heart. What good is all the anxiousness? What, in the grand sense if things, does it matter if I don't get an A in this class; I should really be more concerned with what I have learned opposed to what letter grade I made. Does one reflect the other? Maybe, but maybe not. If I had not taken this class then I wouldn't have learned anything, which would qualify as an F, not actually or concretely because I wouldn't have been in the class to begin with, but intellectually. Regardless of what I make in this class, I am a more educated person because of it. Focusing on a letter grade, instead of focusing on what you are comprehending and how you can apply it to life, is shallow.
Phew...I might be rationalizing unacceptable behavior, but I needed to give myself a pep talk so that I could persevere. I don't want to be the one always late in life, I've always heard that it's a form of passive aggression and I don't like the idea of being an aggressive person. Thanks for listening to my ramblings. I feel slightly more centered and a little less late.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Foggy, Frantic, Fickle Fancy
Here lately I have been having a very tough time writing. Some days it is easy, these last few days it hasn't been. I'm struggling with the next writing assignment, the words just aren't seeming to come out right. Should I blame it on the weather? Could it be because I've had a slight temperature lately? I'm not sure, but it is very frustrating, especially since there are deadlines. Even a pretty new journal with a bird etched on the cover, and walks around the block hasn't helped shatter the glass house I feel I've been living in. I'm foggy minded and heavy headed; this time of year is normally like Spring to me, fall is when I am supposed to feel my most alive. So this is my next attempt, to write about my discouragement in hopes that it will somehow blow the top off this house of a thousand corpses.
I've been spending way to much money shopping for inspiration. And by that I mean, getting a manicure and pedicure, spending $50 worth of Snuggies for my dog, and then turning around and spending another $50 at Pet World so that he could have some Halloween toys to play with.
So I sit here at the computer antsy, determined not to run my bank account dry; I cross my legs , and then I uncross my legs. Nothing feels comfortable, not even with my Snuggie in my lap. Maybe I'm just itching to be outside, but when I go outside feelings of guilt flourish because I'm not in front of the computer logged on to lsus.edu. Maybe I ought to try something completely out of the ordinary...hmmm... oh shucks! I'm too foggy headed to even think of anything!
What do people in very high positions do when they go dumb for a few days? Like the President. Does he have days like this? Is he just extremely clever at covering them up? Is the pressure alleviated because he has other people writing his speeches for him? I like the idea of having a stand-end, someone akin to a stunt double, maybe I'll just settle for an identical twin. Either way, I could stay in bed until I felt fit enough to crawl out, when my mind is more astute and doesn't feel like a run away train. Since that probably won't happen, I guess the best way to deal with my fickle fancy is to buckle in, accept my frantic self, and humor it by singing a soothing lullaby... "I'm going off the rails of a crazy train... doodododo."
Ahhhh music, now there is my sweet inspiration!
I've been spending way to much money shopping for inspiration. And by that I mean, getting a manicure and pedicure, spending $50 worth of Snuggies for my dog, and then turning around and spending another $50 at Pet World so that he could have some Halloween toys to play with.
So I sit here at the computer antsy, determined not to run my bank account dry; I cross my legs , and then I uncross my legs. Nothing feels comfortable, not even with my Snuggie in my lap. Maybe I'm just itching to be outside, but when I go outside feelings of guilt flourish because I'm not in front of the computer logged on to lsus.edu. Maybe I ought to try something completely out of the ordinary...hmmm... oh shucks! I'm too foggy headed to even think of anything!
What do people in very high positions do when they go dumb for a few days? Like the President. Does he have days like this? Is he just extremely clever at covering them up? Is the pressure alleviated because he has other people writing his speeches for him? I like the idea of having a stand-end, someone akin to a stunt double, maybe I'll just settle for an identical twin. Either way, I could stay in bed until I felt fit enough to crawl out, when my mind is more astute and doesn't feel like a run away train. Since that probably won't happen, I guess the best way to deal with my fickle fancy is to buckle in, accept my frantic self, and humor it by singing a soothing lullaby... "I'm going off the rails of a crazy train... doodododo."
Ahhhh music, now there is my sweet inspiration!
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