Cleared around the paving stones, which harbored many more roots. It's a whole matted network of thick weeds with tap roots. Tough and persistent.
Today, I got through more.
Took out ten gallons of the stuff (well tamped down), of which this is but the smallest of spriglings. The woodchips seemed not to be a bother but a bonanza for them. I have buckwheat waiting for me, planning on putting it down either Monday, or the last week of February.
Meeting this morning that I was required to attend. At 0700. Not bad, really, everyone just trying to work together better between Pre-Intra-Post op areas, and all really trying to do our best. Lots of laughter and real problem solving. Still, by the time I stopped for groceries and got home, I felt like a nap. Instead, I went out for seeds. They'd moved, and although I had the right address, there was no obvious signage, I just figured I'd made a mistake, found the OLD place, which was of course not open, and after a home-despot stop, (I found California Poppies and Scarlet Flax) it was 10, and time to start lunch. I dug five gallons of weeds out first, then started lunch. Then another five after, with raking and sweeping.
Rough day at work, I accidentally pinched a patient, not aware of it until the nurse who gave me lunch found the injury, under the drapes. Felt terrible, as well I should. Talked with the surgeon, who told me "shit happens" and about his first surgical mistake, and a week of sleepless nights. At my request, he conveyed my apologies to the patient, and the offer that I would gladly do the same in person. He rather pooh-poohed, but came back later to say the pinch was minor, pinking up fine, would at worst bruise, and the family just wanted me to stop crying, did not need a further apology. Well, of course I cried more then.
Once I start crying, it's hard to stop, and I'll be thin membraned the rest of the day. The only way to deal with it is to avoid sympathy, focus on work, and ask for jokes. Cried again when I told D when I got home. Tearing up writing this. I'm supposed to be the one preventing extraneous injury!
Anesthesiologist reminded me that "Every knob, every feature on that anesthesia machine is the response to someone who died." Sometimes it's difficult, impossible, to know we are doing something potentially dangerous, if it only happens under specific circumstances. I've done that bit of positioning hundreds of times, in what I thought was exactly the same way, without any issue. Now, I will add an extra step to make sure everything is where it belongs.
Wanted alcohol very badly last night, but a promise is a promise. The dry spell is not over yet.
Digging in the dirt helped.
9 comments:
Sounds like you got good feedback from coworkers. Lucky that you get to work in the dirt!
Just remember all the good you've done as well. Including to me and my family even though you're too far away to pinch!
With the way this winter has been I'm still many weeks from being able to dig in the dirt.
When weeds find a home, they really hunker down and procreate. I'm pleased with the photography you add to your blog to let us in on your house/garden.
As for the pinch; I'm sorry it happened and glad that there weren't any serious repercussions apart from a bruise (patient) and hurt feelings (you).
Nimble,
And sharing of their experiences of mistakes, we learn from each other.
RR,
But we only really learn from our mistakes. And only if we take them in, let them sear and tattoo us, so we never forget.
Phil,
It's just been such a weird winter here. This extends my digging time, which is good because I need it before the soil turns to bisque.
You're a good person. No one would blame you for a mistake.
Digging is satisfying.
Hearing about your regret and what looks to an outsider like possibly being too hard on yourself makes me feel a little better about the day I spoke sharply to that little old lady with dementia who tried to trip me... (because she has holes in her brain) and how bad I felt.
Yeah, shit happens, but it's hard when we're the ones who did wrong.
But there it is.
Isabelle,
Good people make terrible mistakes, independent variables.
Fresca,
Precisely. If I didn't feel bad, I would be a terrible person.
i remember working on an elderly lady patient and accidentally cutting her lip ever so slightly with one of my instruments. oh lord, i felt terrible for days! hope you feel better!
pc,
I burned a little girl taking off a cast. No matter how much it's true that I was not properly trained (Army) and they hadn't put enough padding, all I remember is her huge, silent tears, and the line of red down her tiny arm. already broken. And I was just supposed to remove the upper bit, not the lower arm (no one mentioned) so her broken bone was still mobile.
I can still see her face, so stoic, and the tears.
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