Bitter

A stuttering day, stops and starts, running and waiting. Even after I got home, and then went out for groceries, then - after dinner, for bland cookies*. D suffering with tree pollen. Very cold winds this morning, cutting, shattering. Cancelled one case, patient coming from Wyoming, and shifted another for weather. The Great Basin region throws alls kinds of spins at anyone daring to travel at this time of year. Late snows, potent winds, bullying battering, forces to be reckoned with, not a part of the world to be toyed with in the in-betweens. Trucks are routinely toppled, not for the light hearted, or light footed.

Got the rest of the story about the "fired" problem last week. Nothing new, only that she pushed it all too far, then took it out on the person who could fire her - who quickly obliged. Woman has demons chasing her, but she wants everyone else to fight them for her, denies them, and blames everyone else for them. I find myself with a detached compassion for her plight. I hope she learns, although I doubt she will. I do know none of the other ORs in the system want her. She has not burned her bridges, but blown them sky high. Splitting, I suspect.

When I was most in trouble at work, had gotten as low as possible with the pain and stress, I reached out for help. Therapist showed me what I was doing, and I was horrified at what I was becoming. Hard work, miserable work, but I threw myself into it, changed how I related to the world without changing who I am. Fired woman merely threw a doily on top, and expected nothing to change, only that everyone else would stop complaining about her. Useless manager - until she was turned upon - as the rest of us where. Nothing like being savaged to see when someone is out of control.

And I do feel sad for her. Her mother was a mess, and she can't even see, refuses to even see, that she is deeply damaged. I knew age seven that something was terribly, terribly wrong. The cracks still break through, once in a while. I know full well how fundamentally broken I am, and I try to see the cracks, and the beauty. Damage is not an excuse, only a hurdle.

I am reminded of this, from Fiddler on the Roof:

Rabbi, may I ask you a question?
Certainly, my son.
Is there a proper blessing for the Tsar?
A blessing for the Tsar? Of course! May God bless and keep the Tsar... far away from us!



Bitter cold, the kind only spring can throw up. Glad I held off planting anything but freeze tolerant seeds.




*Almond windmill, and oatmeal raisin.