Dirty Little Needle

A few days ago, at work, I was administering insulin to a patient who is known to have hepatitis C.

I was giving the patient the insulin in the arm when I felt something sharp in my left hand.

Somehow I had stuck myself with the dirty needle.

It's bad enough to have stuck myself with a truly filthy dirty needle, but it was as if my employer had no idea how to handle the situation (that's another story).

Mentally, I'm a mess. The data is overwhelming, and maybe because I'm such a mess, I haven't dedicated a lot of time to doing any serious research. Since I was never given the opportunity to speak to a doctor at my facility (I work a hospital for goodness sake!), I called the base. Then I called the base ob/gyn.

This was going to be the year to get pregnant. (Serendipitously, the day after the exposure, I received in the mail my referral for a fertility doc off base.)

The ob/gyn nurse on base called right away, spoke to the doctor, and called me back within a half hour. The verdict: "no baby making for 6 months. Practice safe sex. Use a condom. I'm so sorry and good luck."

Information on the internet is confusing; the CDC's website has my head spinning.

Statistically there is a 1.8% chance of seroconversion.

The CDC states that health care providers exposed to HCV (hepC) don't need to take special precautions to prevent transmission during the follow up period (6 months). While I 'should' (i.e. won't) be donating blood, plasma, etc in the next few months, the CDC states that the exposed person (me) does not need to modify sexual practices OR refrain from becoming pregnant.

HUH?! but the doc on base said otherwise....

I think I also read that 5 out of 100 babies are HepC+ when born to HCV moms.

Maybe the CDC says I don't need to refrain because the combined factor of 1.8% chance to seroconvert and the 5/100 odds.

But still. I wish I was in school again and could talk to someone about all this (better yet, I wish I could go back to Wednesday night and redo that insulin shot).

I'm doubt that I'm even interpreting all the information correctly (there's a 1.8% chance, but a range of 0%-7% to seroconvert....what does that mean??)

For now though, I sit and wait. My blood will be drawn again at the 6 week, 12 week, and 6 month mark. And I will sit with my fingers crossed, hoping.

Recovery & Splits

Who doesn't love negative splits on a run? This morning's five miler was a perfect example of 5 negative splits. It goes without saying that it was a good, strong run; I felt myself getting faster without trying, and by the last mile I just ran with it.

I can't exactly say the same thing for marathon weekend...But I'm still pretty happy with my overall performance (especially when compared to last year's marathon). My slowest mile was at mile 2 (battling crowds of walkers) and my last mile was faster than the first few miles.

The splits:

5K: 31:51

10K: 1:03:45

15K: 1:34:17

20K: 2:04:21

HALF: 2:11:09

25K: 2:33:57

30K: 3:04:57

35K: 3:35:54

40K: 4:07:41

Finish: 4:21:28

Not sure how-or why-I did so much better than last year. The last half was in April. In the meantime, there was mild surgery (x2!) and a move from cool, breezy Delaware to hot & humid Florida. Training started late, and when compared to other marathon runners, I certainly wasn't ready to even begin training (nor was I training enough). For some reason, I barely ever averaged 30 miles a week.

As for recovery....well, what recovery? Last year, I remember running 2 miles about a week after the marathon: a long and painful 20 minutes. This year, my first post race run was with the running club; a 5 miler that I ran without difficulty. At first I thought it was a fluke, but I ran 3+ with the Tuesday running group and then this morning's early solo 5 miler.

Going back to work on the Tuesday following the run was helpful. Nothing like walking the halls of hospital floor for 12 hours to stretch out the legs. Speaking of which...

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The adjustment of moving from a large teaching hospital to a small, private, for profit hospital has been quite the challenge. More often than not, I come home in near tears. I didn't come home in tears last night, but I did leave 30 minutes late. And still, as I was laying in bed getting ready to fall asleep, I suddenly remembered two things that I forgot to complete before leaving work. It's got to get better.....

Four

just worked my second set of twelve hour shifts without coming home and crying.

That's four tear free work days.

I hope I can keep this up!

23 minutes

Just barely over a week ago, I packed my bags, headed to the airport, landed in DC, got lost in DC, attended the Marine Corp Marathon Race Expo, saw many sanity rally signs, picked up my hubs from the airport, had a wonderful day in historic Alexandria, dinner with a friend, and then, ran Marathon Number Two.

The difference between Marathon Number 1 and Marathon Number 2? About 23 minutes....

4:21:28

(Last year's time was 4:44:something)

Elated? You bet! Bear with me while I try my hand at a weekend recap/race report....

The night before was a semi-early pasta dinner with a friend who was stationed at our previous base. He, his brother and brother's wife and my hubs met up at a smallish, very crowded Italian restaurant at 5:30 and thankfully we were seated by 6:00. Between catching up, the conversation was obviously heavily marathon and running related. I was worried...while they were nervous, I had a kind of "eh, whatever" attitude, although deep down I was a tad nervous. I had my schedule changed, people at work, the running club, and friends all knew about the run, but the money thing was what got me....two plane tickets, 3 nights at a marked up hotel, plus a rental car. Oh, and my husband's boss knew that the hubs was taking a day off to watch me run.

No pressure.

Pasta dinner, goodbyes and good lucks, and we were off, but I was worried the hotel wouldn't have enough food for breakfast, so off to find a grocery store. In true fashion, we drove 30 minutes to get over-priced cereal at CVS (only to grocery store less than 3 blocks from our hotel). But we also discovered a mall with a great Macy's, Nordstrom, and smallish Apple store. I was happy, even if I didn't buy a single thing. (no doubt, I thought of bribing myself with an iPhone if I completed the marathon...)

Surprisingly, I got a decent night's sleep (read the 'whatever' attitude). Woke up, bagel, coffee, juice...walk to start line. we stroll...we're early. I gathered up the nerve to use the port-a-potty.

Then, I noted that the entertainment music was off. two fighter planes fly over. uhh....running late?

Quickly we start to head to the start line....cannon ball goes off. But at this point, we're at the back of the pack of the run, in the 6-7 hour corral. For some reason, only two lanes of the highway were being used to corral runners (last year it was 4 lanes), so I cut over to the open two lanes and cut into the pack, halfway between the 4:30 and 5:00 pace team (they weren't even moving yet...it ended up taking us about 20 minutes to cross the start line).

Obviously I wanted to finish the race, and would have been happy to beat my time from last year. My secret, unobtainable goal was to finish at 4:30. But not being an experienced runner, I just run. I have no specific laid out plans or strategy.

The race started rough. I don't mind those that are going to walk a marathon or even those that do the run/walk marathon programs. However, I quickly developed an issue with the sheer number of people walking at the two and three mile points. Shouldn't those who are planning on walking start towards the back of the pack, with the 5+ hour corral? It was crowded, and hard to get around people. I felt like I was running way slow, which I kept trying to tell myself was a good thing, but it was still frustrating.

Mile 2-3 were up hill (I forgot about that since last year). Mile 3-4 got especially crowded. Mile 5ish I had an untied lace(!), and finally, at mile 6 or 7 it began to clear a little. Mile 8 was a steep downhill mile and I was surprised at how many people slowed down. At the 4-5 mile point, runners are running along side runners who in the opposite lane/direction are running mile 8-9. I was sad to see that when I got to that mile 8-9 point, there was NOBODY running or walking mile 4-5. And I thought, man.....I'm really far back.....

At this point, I kept seeing the same lady in front of me, and I made her my pacer. I was going to keep her in sight. I was feeling good at this pace and figured while I was pushing myself, it wasn't unbearable.

Mile 9 was sticky with orange peels and at mile 10 I saw the a tall skinny pink balloon....my husband! We made a trade...I gave him my gloves, he handed me a Gu. After the trade, I heard him yell, "You're doing great!" And I felt like I was.....my pace was somewhere in the 10min/mile range.

I was headed towards Hain's Point, Miles 11-16, which last year was rough. The crowd of spectators thin until it's just runners. This year? Maybe I knew what to expect, but it wasn't as bad, and as I approached mile 13, there was some good music with a person on a stage who had a microphone; she saw my name and was calling it out. I looked smiled, waved, hand in the air. I was a rockstar, if for only 3 minutes. I passed the 13.1 point, saw my watch and wasn't positive, but thought the time looked decent for at least meeting last year's old time. Another mental boost!

Leaving mile 15 I stated looking for the pink balloon, saw it, high fived the hubs and said, "I'm hungry!"

Mile 16 is one of the best miles because of all the spectators. You're running around the Lincoln Memorial, past the Vietnam Memorial, along Constitution Ave. You see the White House. You run past the Washington Monument. Along the National Mall until you see the Capital Building. You run in front of the Capital Building, you get awesome pictures, head back along the mall, and the crowds begin to pick up. Nearing mile 20 I spied the pink balloon, removed a Gu from my Spri belt, and gave my hubs my sleeves and belt. He had a HUGE bottle of water, which I took from him, yelling, "Let's go!" and he jumped on the course with me as I took a sip of water and poured some over my head (it was fun to see him smile and laugh on the course). The entertainment at this point was a pretty sweet drumming group. Again, the hand was up in the air....

And then, the bridge.

Last year, I began to die on this bridge. Last year there was a grim reaper with a sign that said, "The end is near." There are hardly any spectators on the bridge leading to Crystal City. I was dreading the bridge and what was beyond the bridge.

But this year, I was ok....I pictured where I was on my long runs at home with "only 6 miles left to go" I saw a gal holding a blow up doll, which made me smile and laugh (and I later learned the meaning behind the blow up doll). I started to get tired. I came across a man running, whose left upper and lower extremities were prosthetics. I ran behind for a little bit. I couldn't believe it.

How could I be tired?

Motivated, my energy came ba

ck. I made it to Crystal City. Last year, at Crystal City, I began to lose some serious steam. I was hurting. I was barely moving. It was the longest two miles ever. In fact, my memory of crystal city was that it was 4 or 5 miles long. It was so bad a marine at the fluid station starting yelling my name and ran a couple of steps.

This year I entered Crystal City, grabbed my drink and kept going.

Because you know, it was "only" two miles (and by two miles, it's one mile out (22-23), another back (23-24). And here's where I looked at my watch and realized, I'm REALLY going to beat my old time.

Mile 24-25....hardly any spectators. virtually none. But at this point I was so happy. We all were....we can almost see the end. I was tired, but I had steam. And I saw my watch and thought, "OH MY GOODNESS. I am really really really going to beat my time." And just like that, the energy level came right back.

Mile 25....Pure happiness. I was finishing (alive, too). I felt strong. I was passing people (true, some were passing me, but I'm all smiles). I was happy to be running and not walking.

Mile 26, I saw the pink balloon. I'm smiling, hubs is smiling. I had my hand in the air. People were calling my name, people were cheering...for me, for everyone. I crossed the finish line.

I didn't pass out. I'm breathing, my chest felt ok. I went off to the side for a minute where I heard myself wheezing, and thought, "ha, I think I'm having an asthma attack" (I don't have asthma). I recovered. I got in line for the medal.

And......this is what kills me with ever marathon and half marathon. I can't just stand around in a crowded line after running for over 2 hours. I finally got my medal,

bypassed the photographer (they are always terrible photos anyways). I sat. A super nice marine gave me a large bottle of water. I sat some more & recovered. I get up to go through the food and beverage line, got some more water & Powerade, but somehow missed the food line.

Found hubs....happy, no tears. stretch. and holy moly, my time. I was elated; overjoyed, and like a little kid, could not stop talking about the run.

And ridiculously hungry!

For the second year in row I didn't go to the 'after race party' I don't like being in crowds, plus I was so hungry I really didn't want to pass out. The only food I saw being sold was of the hot dog and chicken finger fare....not what I wanted to eat. We walked back to the hotel. I had the most painfully cold ice bath, hot shower, coffee, food....rested, stretched, foam rolled. My husband took a nap(!), caught up with family on the phone. That night we met up w

ith another runner from the running club who ran the race. I had two beers....we walked back to the hotel (already better...last year I couldn't walk the one mile back to the hotel from the restaurant and had to take a cab). And, like just like last year, a shot of tequila to celebrate and

numb the pain.

I slept like a baby. And just like a baby wakes in the middle of the night crying, I woke at 3:30

with cramped legs. Who says marathon running isn't full of fun?

The Difference Between Here and There

There: Last year I trained for and ran a marathon. Co-workers were curious, and yes, called me crazy. MDs were curious and would talk to me about their running, their training, their races, their race memories, their family running, and how great it feels to run and/or exercise (swim, bike, etc).

Here: This year I trained for and ran another marathon. Cardio-Thoracic surgeon finds out (via other RN) that I ran a marathon and says, "What?! You? Why would you do that? You could die doing that."

Marathon Bound...Wish me luck!!!!

What In the World...

Ok. Once again, I fail as a blogger, but with no pressure to write (readers, I think, are few and far between), the blogging mojo hasn't been in full force.

So we've now been in these new parts for about 3 months. Before finding a house we joined a running club and I got a job. The running club is the absolute best though. I met fellow runners, made a friend and had a lunch date, found places to eat, and improved my speeds. Or did I...

When I first started running with the group, I was suddenly and consistently running 9:15-9:30 pace miles. Even for my long runs (oh long runs...yeah, about that, I happened to sign up for the Marine corp marathon again....). When my 5k race pace is 8 something and my happy pace is 10 something, running ALL training runs at 9 something probably wasn't the smartest thing to do. And after running with women who are seasoned marathoners, I had the funny little hip flexor pain. As in, if I wanted get into my husband's truck, I would have to use my hands to lift my leg. And it hurt to lift my leg to put on my pants and things. You know....basic activities of daily living were now not so basic. 4 miles into my 18 miler I had to turn around because running was more bothersome than fun.

I'm ok with aches. pain, not so much. I was upset; I had already booked a hotel room, and despite being scheduled to work on the weekend of the marathon, my manager worked with me and changed my schedule so I would have the weekend off. My husband's boss gave him the ok to take the Monday after the marathon off. The runners in the club knew I was registered (3 of them are running it). I couldn't back out!

Caroline, one of the runners told me to take a week off. "DO NOTHING" she said. No gym, no running, rest and ice. So I listened (sort of...I only took 4 days off and ran really really slow on day 5): lots of stretching and a nightly ritual involving tiger balm and ice, it's feeling better.

Than came the first 20 mile run. Alone, on a weekday, I left at 5:45am and ran what must have been hundreds of circles. I made the mistake of passing the house at 19.70 mi, had a "coughing spell" (which turned into noxious dry heaves) and stopped running at 19.75. Ice bath, rest, sushi lunch and I was ok.

This past Tuesday I did my second 20 miler. All of it (fewer circles this time). No coughing spells with dry heaves. No goosebumps. No mental lapses of "I already passed that house?! Where am I?!"

Tuesday night, we booked plane tickets, hotel, car. It got a little pricey, BUT I AM GOING TO DC TO RUN MY SECOND MARATHON!

Saturday Morning Fever

I experienced my first code this past weekend.

I worked in a hospital for nearly two years and never once saw a code on my old med-surg floor. It could have been the patient profile, the nursing care, or an incredible RRT system.

(RRT stands for Rapid Response Team; at my old hospital, when you knew something just 'wasn't right' with your patient, you would call an RRT via the paging system. A respiratory therapist, Medical ICU nurse, and resident would come and evaluate/care for your patient while you cared for your other patients. The RRT was used to prevent a code....and did so for many cases on our floors.)

Saturday I got report; was looking through my patient's labs and medications when I heard the charge nurse call for another nurse saying, "Come in here!"

I didn't even look at my preceptor; we dropped what we were doing and ran. I didn't understand what was happening, even though I saw the code cart being pushed in. The four of us, plus the respiratory therapist were in the room. The head of bed was being lowered and the bed was being raised. I was told to push the code button; my preceptor was removing the headboard from the board; the charge looked at me and said, "you've never done chest compressions; start!"

And I just put my hands down and started compressions.

The only other time I've done compressions was on a dummy.

The feeling and sound of the first two compressions (or the rest for that matter) are nothing like that of compressions on a dummy.

I eventually handed off compressions; and I stepped back to watch and help however I could; there must have been 15 staff members in the room: one running the code. 3 RTs. nurses. finally, a doctor.

I know it won't be, but I hope it's my last.

Coming Soon...

why group runs are the way to go

and

new hospital job woes.

Have a great weekend!

One Monh

It's been four weeks since moving to our new location; it's getting a tad better.

Sunday mornings have a typical routine spent running, driving to Publix to pick up the NY Times, and then driving to Starbucks to read the NY Times (for whatever reason, the NYTimes supplier of NW Florida does not deliver to any of the Starbucks in the region. Maybe he/she is protesting their 'no decaf after 12' policy). Then it's a quick lunch out, trip to the commissary (and sometimes back to Publix for produce and/or meat), nap, and if it was like yesterday, an afternoon of The Kardashians.

Not quite the home depot, bed bath and beyond of Old School, but eerily close. It would be fun to decorate a house, unpack a box, or shop.

There are certainly highs and lows to living here.

The lows: the newspaper. With each move, the local newspapers get smaller and smaller. And now more than ever, it's scary to read the locals' take on national issues. Some of the sound bytes, quotes, and letters to the editor are jaw dropping.

The highs: Thursday night I crashed the local running club's Thursday night run. As we were waiting for 5:30 to roll around, I was the only female amongst pierced and tattooed men, most of whom were shirtless. In otherwords, I'm thinking, "What am I doing HERE?! Where are the turtles?!"

(there really weren't any turtles to be spoken of.) People welcomed me, and nobody made fun of me when they asked my normal pace (10:30). One of the male members ended up running with me (good thing as I would have be lost with all the turns we made). It's hard for me to talk while running 5 miles at a 9:15/9:30 pace...so here's hoping I'm not dubbed the new snooty one. The pizza, talking, laughing and beer following the run was probably the best part.

Finally, after 4 weeks of not meeting anyone, I was meeting locals and socializing. Quite a high for the week! Now if only we can move into a house and get our house hold goods out of storage!

MMS seeking...Friend

Married Military Spouse* (age30) seeking female friend between the ages of 22 and 42. Friend must find humor in following local news story:

Man being arrested for driving lawn mower drunk

and shock/amazement in:

man shooting self in public location.

Friend should enjoy laughing, meeting up for caffeinated coffee or tea. Friend should enjoy going out for dinner, cooking with friends, meeting up for the occasional drink.

Seriously, it's been about 3 weeks since moving, and I've yet to meet a soul (save for the two yoga instructors at the local yoga studio and the ladies interviewing me at various hospitals).

I attended the base new comers meeting (it was mainly for the active duty), and put my name on the spouse contact list, but have yet to receive a call informing me of the spouse newcomers meeting.

For our first time, we're not part of a flying squadron, and holy heck, how do women meet people if they don't have kids or aren't part of a church?? Our first base had a spouse group, as did our second base. And at the second base we met people on day one or day two, going out to dinner on day three, and meeting up at a new friend's house a week or two later.

I hope the track club allows turtles to join..... :)

*just realized that married military spouse is somewhat redundant...oops!

*Muffled Cry*

"Um, I'm sorry. I just moved here....so please excuse me. But I don't understand....no decaf after 12 noon?"

This was my response to the Batista at the local Starbucks after he told me that it was a district policy to NOT brew decaffeinated coffee after 12 noon.

Time? 2pm. A brief run down of the day up to that point: drank 1/2 a cup of regular coffee (brewed at home), and made the poor decision to run 5 miles on the treadmill at the apartment complex (which is equivalent to running in a sauna). The 5 mile run was more like 3. There was no juice in the tank. Cool down....lunch...and an hour on the phone dealing with a certain phone/Internet/cable company that has a 'V' and a 'Z' in their name.

Finally, a 30+ minute drive to Starbucks. The goal: Write a letter to the above mentioned phone/Internet/cable company with a 'V' and a 'Z' in their name.

The request: a medium coffee, half regular, half decaf.

Barista: Oh....uh, yeah...we don't have any decaf. We don't brew decaf after 12 noon.

And he then went on to explain that it was a district policy to not brew decaf after 12noon.

Here's the problem...it's a coffee shop. They should have coffee...regular & decaf. I get that times are tough. If it was 0800 am and they weren't brewing decaf BEFORE 12 noon, I might understand the cost benefit of not having decaf early in the morning. I imagine most Starbucks customers want the caffeine, especially in the morning.

Happy to say that I did not shed a tear and go ape shit at the store. But yes, internally, screams...and a delicious, somewhat caffeinated cup of green tea. Seriously. WHERE on earth am I???

Goldilocks on the Move

The past few weeks have been nothing if not stressful.

Back in July there was the minor surgery, a quick trip to NYC for a last easy taste of the city, and part 1 of the move.

Our packers came, and spent the ENTIRE day packing boxes. And by entire day, I mean, not leaving until maybe 6:00pm. They packed everything, including the microwave we were planning on leaving for the renters and items in the pantry (olive oil, kahlua, you name it. it's packed. And hopefully not leaking through a box right now...).

Around 0800 the next morning we have a giant moving truck parked on the street in front of our home. The driver and crew weren't happy (a car was parked in the street and we were unable to get a hold of the owner of the car). To wake up the neighborhood (in hopes of finding the owner), the driver leaned on the horn. And kept leaning. And yes, kept leaning. The joys of dealing with movers.

The driver was straight up out of the bronx, and filled every stereotype (not going to list). The moment he stepped out of the cab, I thought "ETOHer" If I didn't know any better, he could have been a patient on my old floor going through DTs. Quite an interesting character. Certainly with a past and have considered if the man is a member of the witness protection program.

Our stuff is hopefully all in storage, and all in one piece. Granted, anything that had screws in it was unscrewed. Hopefully every piece of furniture that had four legs will come out of storage with all four legs (a piano bench with only three legs will be interesting). And the parts box will hopefully make it as well....with all the parts. (am I the only one that thinks a parts box is a dangerous idea? Let's think for a moment...what if the parts box doesn't make it?

Never mind. Let's NOT thing that. Think good thoughts...positive thoughts.

So we made it to our new town. It's hot, humid and I'm weary of stepping into the water or eating anything that came from it (thanks to certain government waivers and a certain corporation). The homes are on big lots. Few trees. No landscaping. Large homes, high ceilings, small bedrooms, and for the most part, a lot of above ground utilities. Unfortunately lots of foreclosures. It is difficult to find a neighborhood where all lawns are kept and boats are parked in the backyard vs the driveway. (An area we like, where people keep their yards maintained and the boats parked in the back behind the house, is well over $300,000 for a house). A little steep considering we're keeping our other place.

We may have found one house, on the cheap end, but it needs a lot of work and we are trying to literally steal this house; only because it needs so much work and because again, some of the homes are unkept (you would literally need a weed wacker to get to the front door of one neighboring house). We'll see what happens. Who knows what-or where- we'll end up.

Running News: Back in April I signed up for the MCM. Training got off to a late start due to the minor surgery. True training actually started here, in Florida. It's rough; I am only running early in the morning (not exactly how-or why- people on base actually run in the afternoon). The first long run, 8 miles was last week, I ran 6.75, took a 15 min break, and then, angry with myself for quitting, finished the last 1.25 miles out on the track (with no problem!).

This past Sunday, for the 9 miler, I got through 7. something miles when I had to walk for a bit before starting up the run again. A mixture of negative and positive splits....hopefully this is heat related. I just ordered a box of my favorite gu (lemon sublime) from the local running shop.

Workout so far this week:

Sunday was a 9 miler.

Monday was weights (my first time since probably November/December time frame)

Tuesday: today was a nice 4 miler near the water.

Tomorrow, hopefully more weights, another trip to starbucks, and maybe even another post :)

Excuse me, Are you my husband?

"You were a chemistry major?!"

And you can imagine how the rest of the conversation went, over dinner, with my....

husband.

How is it possible that I've known him for about 12 years, married for 7, and NOT known he was a chemistry major? (granted he was only a chem major for either one semester or a year, he's doesn't remember)

Tangent....I hated chemistry. It was a massive class, with a professor who was always late, rushed, and obviously annoyed that he had to teach true undergrads. Chem lab was almost worse than the lecture. Walking near the chem building began to get my heart going, and NOT in a good exciting kind of way. But by far, the most awful part of chemistry was after the exam. First you felt like you bombed it. Then, a day or two later, you walked to the chemist yr lecture hall, and looked for the last four digits of your SSN in the glass enclosed bulletin board out on the side of the building. You found your grade. And then your curved grade. And then you cried (not tears of joy, either)....and eventually dropped the class and changed majors and..ok, so I see why he dropped the chem major. But I digress...

I couldn't help but wonder what else? After all, the previous evening we were eating waffles for dinner when I noticed that he ate his waffles tiny square by tiny square. (he swears he's always done this; I've just been too tired in the morning to notice).

Note, it's not like I eat my waffles strip by strip, but i certainly don't cut them into perfect squares either.....

with the move coming up, I can't wait to learn more peculiarities...we'll certainly be spending enough time together!

Keep Movin'

and we're back on the train again.

The past few weeks have been a whirlwind with no hope of slowing down.

Last week was my last day of work at an incredible hospital and I feel fortunate to have had an opportunity to work at and with such an incredible group of people. There is a group of people that I work with that make up an incredible team: the Rock Star Nurses.

They are the ones who are always calm, always willing to help, and always seem to know just what to do. The are great with patients. What can I say...they are my idols. There are also a few nursing students that work on the floor who I know will make fantastic nurses, and I hope to keep in touch with everyone.

No rest for the weary, after the last day of work, I had a minor surgery. As a nurse, I hate being a patient. It might not be the actual act of being a patient as much as the fear factor: completely out of control and aware of the worst possible outcomes (real and imagined).

And I can't really go jogging right now as it's still too close to post op. Bother.

But the day after the surgery I met up with some former classmates, aka sexy, zany nurses. Drinks, dinner, more drinks, delicious desert, wonderful laughs. Could I ask for anything more?

Well....maybe.

A house to move into would be nice. And a job.

The movers come in less than one week to pack up the house and lock all my belongings into a truck (and then move it into storage).

As for the job front....I've applied to three or four, and have only heard back from one. My "salary requirement" is about $8 per hour than they can offer me. The application (for all the jobs) requested that I fill in my current salary or salary requirements. I had figured that I would be taking a pay cut, but I feel like I was blown off.....I don't need to make the same dollar amount; but not even an interview. At least call me. I hate how impersonal the internet can be.

Just keep movin'...it will all come together.

Booking It

How many of you remember the reading program at school that was sponsored by a particular pizza restaurant that has a red roof?

I loved that program. First you got a button (one year it was a very cool hologram) and you would get a yellow star to put on the button for each month if you made the monthly quota for the number of books or book reports you were supposed to complete.

So in today's 'retro' style of Bringin' Back the 80s, I'm going to book it.

Just finished reading Sex With Kings

It was a cheap find at one of my favorite book stores, The Strand in NYC, and I'm glad I picked it up. There is so much juicy gossip on each page, I'm on information overload and can't even pick out the one juiciest moment. Scandal? yes. Sex? yes. Education? yes.

It's the not-so-trashy-trashy beach read for summer. Weird looks while reading it? quite possibly. For someone who doesn't appreciate and enjoy history, I would say this is a history book worth reading. Sometimes the writing gets a bit cheesy...and I would be lying if I said that I could keep all the characters (er, make that kings and mistresses) straight.

Next up The Girl Who Played With Fire. Diversity at its finest :)

Lesser of Two Evils

Would you rather follow a per diem nurse and have a 45 minute plus dressing change? or follow the nurse who gives poor reports and leaves things incomplete or incorrect?

I chose the latter. (tired of all these dressing changes we've had!) Tomorrow should be interesting. oye vey.

Fool

You'd be a fool not to try this panini for lunch.

The first time I made this sandwich, I actually had nearly all the ingredients (I needed bread, tomato, and a lemon). The olives and artichokes can be purchased for cheap at Walmart or your commissary. I've purchased the ciabatta bread at Walmart & at the local grocery store...sadly, the bread from Walmart made for a better sandwich. I obviously recommend purchasing the bread from a specialty shop if you're lucky enough to leave near one.

The first time I made this sandwich, I was amazed that I was eating something made in my kitchen and not at a sandwich shop.

Trust me, your mouth & taste buds will thank you for the flavor burst.

Bit

by the apple bug....

I broke down and got a new laptop...a mac book!! I'm so excited to be using it right now. Trying to figure out all the features. Not exactly looking forward to sitting down with my old laptop to transfer everything onto this new baby.

I love it.

I want to name it.

Opening it out of the box? so sexy and sleek. Strangely enough, I'm digging the backlit keyboard. It's the little things that get me going....

In the same way in which buying new exercise clothes motivates me to hit the gym, maybe it's a macbook that will motivate me to join the blogging world again. Then again, a PCS is just 4 weeks away, which means lots of lots of fun stories. (be forewarned, the stories have already begun...)

Ok, so I lied

I said I would update soon, and well, since school ended I've lost my blogging mojo. Not sure if it's because of work or what. But here goes the 1/2 marathon story (motivated by DAR who is running her own half this upcoming week).

After running the Marine Corp Marathon in October (which, oops, I 'accidently' signed up for again), my running became thready. I kind of expected that to happen, but it couldn't have happened at a worse time: the beginning of the coldest, snowiest winter I hope to ever experience.

Let's just say this place is windier than Chicago (you want wind farms? we've got the land), and absolutely horrible about clearing out snow. This Florida girl learned how to run in cold weather last year. She didn't however, learn how to run on frozen over snow. The snow storms (there were three) literally put a freeze on my running.

And when hubs casually questioned why I hadn't signed up to train for any sort of race, I knew I was in trouble. I was officially in that dark and crazy place known as "I WILL NOT go on meds seasonal affect disorder"

I had to train. A friend had asked me to consider doing the 13.1 marathon in NYC with her. She asked in December. It was now February. I half-heartedly began training for the half that was scheduled for the first weekend of April. I told my friend 'Maybe." (6 weeks of training, pshhh)

I skipped weeks in my training plan. then on my birthday, I ran 10 miles. Oops. I told friend I would do it. But I still didn't sign up for the race. It was pretty likely that my friend wouldn't be able to run the race....she had this little thing called an ADOPTION to take cafe of. (she was waiting for some travel dates...)

As expected, friend received the call to pick up her baby in a land far far away. She gave me her bib number. I ran 10 miles once more. it was horrible. I still didn't know. But then....it was going to be a GORGEOUS WEEKEND in NYC. Hubs was going to be out of town. And really, what was I going to do in for a three day weekend in this windy state?

Yeah, it was a no-brainer. Arrangements were made. I found a friend to travel up with me (granted I would have traveled alone, that's how crazy I was). Next thing I knew, i was driving through Times Square looking for our hotel on Lexington Ave.

Pre Race Meal: Mussels and beer with nursing school classmate and a high school classmate that I haven't seen since high school graduation.

Race Day: Bagel, juice, and coffee for breakfast. Subway to Queens. Use of porta potty (no trauma).

Race: course...super flat except for a few overpasses. and hello circles. lots of loops and figure eights...crossing the start line 3 times is not cool. Crowds were sparse to non-existent. Entertainment...plentiful along a 3 mile spread, but overall, lacking. I only Gu'd twice (much less than my first half marathon. Overall? with the knowledge that I had at one point trained and completed a marathon, the idea of running a half was in the category of "eh, just another long run. here goes"

Final time? 2:05 something what, did you get that? my first half was slow and easy, and included goofing off, singing and dancing at a 2:16 something time.

I was thrilled

Post Race: stretch, subway ride. shower. walk walk walk. We walked and shopped the entire city. Middle eastern food for lunch on the upper west side....traditional Jewish pastries to snack...books stores, wine stores, massive pillow fight in Union Square (!) and then food at my high school classmate's apartment, plus more shopping, and finally, a deliciously expensive margarita (and yes, dinner) at a snazzy Mexican restaurant just around the corner from our hotel. we didn't get in until midnight. Between the wine, tequila, and oh yeah, the 13 mile run, let's just say it was more than the white noise of the city that put me to sleep....

Good Luck DAR!!!!

Last Minute

Who decided at the last minute to run a half marathon this past weekend?

More to come...just finished two 8s and a 12 (topped with a glass of wine), which is making me sleeeepy.

Start

Today:

Get to work 4 hours early for competency check lists and class.

1455: rush onto floor (class ended late). run into bathroom because goodness knows there won't be many chances to use it later.

1500: meet with nurse I'm following, start report

1505: interrupted

1510: restart report. Have to move chair due to multiple noise conservations at mini-station

1516: interruption

(repeat x2. you get the idea)

10 minutes after getting report, receive word from nurse downstairs that one of my patients (who is downstairs for some tests) made comments akin to suicidal ideation. .

it was crazy. It took a while for the vitals to get completed and entered into the system. my tech became a sitter, a patient returned from OR completely out of it, hypotensive and with nausea. fix one problem, and then open up another. Once I thought I was done getting everyone comfortable, another rings and says she can't breathe. No tech, post op vitals, strait caths, oye vey, I'm glad to be home.

"So why....

haven't you signed up for a race yet?" said husband.

He was a bit concerned. It was early February. We had just gotten through our third snow storm since December. Two of those storms I think were classified as blizzards and had struck within days of each other. Streets were barely passable on car, much less with running shoes.

I had done some small, no more than 4 mile runs here and there, but nothing more.

I was going crazy.

So recently I started looking for some half marathons. while I wouldn't mind doing the same half as last year (historic half), I had already motivated a group of co-workers to get together to run in a marathon relay (each person runs 6.55 miles) and it happens to be on the same weekend as the historic half. So that's probably out.

I've yet to find a good half (with easy to minimal traveling) for May. Regardless, I printed out a plan and have been fortunate enough to have the sun out all week with temperatures creeping up to the mid 40s (I'm loving the sound and sight of melting snow). 6 miles completed today. 5 mile speed work out earlier this past week. Let's hope this keeps up.

Because there is a half in NY...in early april. A friend is trying to convince me to run it with her and her friends. I'm waiting until the last minute to commit. 6 weeks to train for a half? it's going to be messy

Red Alert

No, that's not some image of a a TarJay Bullseye or flag of a certain country in Asia.

it's what my nose looks like, right now, after finishing a box of tissues in 24 hours. DayQuil isn't working one bit. well, not really at least. If I cough, my nose starts running. if I move to a different room, my nose starts running. And if I sneeze? you know the answer.

Back.

honestly. for real. i'm going to keep up with the blogging! It's been nearly two months!

So what's new?

Still working. In fact, one of the patients listed in my last post is BACK on the floor. And while I want to say WHY the patient is back, I have too much respect for that hippopatamus of a privacy law.

The good thing about work? I'm no longer working every other weekend. What a relief! I now work two twelve hour shifts each week, which really isn't that bad. except for the whole running thing. It's hard to go for a run after working a 12 hour shift, especially if you have a husband waiting to eat dinner when you get home at 2015 and have to get up at 0455 to go back to work.

to be fair, after the marathon, I wasn't running after work as much as I used to. Partly because I wanted a break (my legs were exhausted), partly due to the fact that I didn't have a training plan (I needed something to tell me what distance to run-isn't that lame??), and partly due to the weather. We've had quite a few super windy, super cold, super snowy days.

the past couple of weeks I've kept up with 3-5 mile runs. It's going to have to be upped though. I just bought a new pair of sneakers and I need to justify the purchase. of course, buying new running shoes when you're battling a cold probably sin't the best of ideas. here's hoping I can pick it up...