Shut

 Reminded of jobs I did as a kid today. One summer, I painted the fence, a dark thick green, the paint had a  stink* to it I would never forget. I worked in the dirt and heat until it was done. I think it was the next summer I painted the garage, white, and up a ladder, which was better. I received for these projects... a sense of satisfaction. 

Meals-on-wheels was my next unpaid job, my mom drove sometimes as I "jumped" - taking the meal in and doing a wellness check (not that I was told that was part of the job, didn't think of it that way at the time) on some rather lonely people. I would use this as a source of references, from the organizers, when I applied for work at my branch library.  The Library was my second real job, which I worked for years through high school. (First being at a summer camp, and I wound up quitting - which was good because there were issues that got worse as the season went on.)

My oldest brother's in-laws were managers at Hudson's Department Store, and when I was maybe 15 or 16, I was invited to make a days' wages (maybe it was two days?) on inventory. Counted a lot of clothes.  Got a very small amount of cash. Still, good practice. 

I forget these jobs, but they are also about my sense of doing the job in front of me. One of my residents told of being a kid and joining a friend and their family for hikes.  She told how they made her feel welcome, but the family had three rules, 

1. Show up

2. Keep up

3. Shut up

The last rule was to stop complaining and whining, not conversation.  She was a terrific resident, I'm sure today she is an excellent surgeon. She always showed up, kept up, and shut up, and told good stories with a vivid sense of humor. 

Today I watered, cleaned the tub, made lunch. Yesterday I vacuumed and dusted (very much needed after the waves of smoke.)  Laundry. Trash out. All the little chores I've been half doing or putting off. 

Finally got Zeppo well brushed - which he was not best pleased about. Had to be held and that's what he does not like, or perhaps does not trust. Pulled a significant wad of fur off him.  He'd horked up a hairball, so it was necessary. Got his claws trimmed as well - he was catching on everything. Again, doesn't seem to mind the grooming, can't abide being held to accomplish it. He's been keeping his distance from me ever since. He'll eventually get over it, but for the moment I'm back on probation.

Thinking about my clumsy exit from the former job. I don't know how else I would have gotten out of it. I had to feel desperate enough to open my mind to any possible honest work. I don't know if I would have been so eager to do this job without that painful break. I had to change, and scrub away old assumptions, mourn. 

*One of the houses we looked at when we were looking had the same sort of paint. Smells a bit like PlayDoh, shiny and a bit gummy. I could not get out of there fast enough. 

Puzzles

 So, I'm going to 10 hour shifts starting Monday. Apparently I'm doing well enough, and am sufficiently trusted, to work semi-independently.  This feels so good. Still daunting, but it still feels like such a good fit.  Lots to learn, and that will never end.  Also, I'm using my deep knowledge base in ways no one else there has, which is helpful. 

I really enjoy the puzzle aspect of the work. And reading so many stories in the complex medical histories that are the heart of the work.  After four weeks, this seems like I will do ok.  I will still make mistakes, I will still have bad days. This is life.  I will keep doing the job in front of me. 

This has swallowed my attention. I came home last night, crawled in bed at 7, and slept through to 6.  Today was a good day. 

Sidewalk

My beautiful Eleanor. 

More wind and rain last night. Not enough to fix the drought, but welcome, so welcome.

Tree dropped across the sidewalk in the strong gusts. Neighbors cut it up and cleared it this morning. Our urban forestry people are usually pretty good about this, but not so much on a Sunday morning. 

Trying to do a little internal clean up, the house has been bit neglected. Looking forward to ten hour shifts, once I am capable of being on my own. Another month and change. It really will work well, do clinics in the morning, then catch up for the last 2-3 hours in the office away from distractions.  

And it is quiet up there, no music, people mostly just working through their own lists.  Some conversations. Coming to believe all the noise and music in the OR was a big contributing factor in my anxiety levels.  Quiet is good. 

 

Tiny

The new job involves a lot of little details. I'm slowly sticking them together into little clumps of knowledge and processing them. It's very easy to get confused and put them in the wrong way round or in the wrong order or in the wrong place, but I'm working through the problems. And I'm persistent, and remarkably patient with it all. 

 I learned this when I broke my arm, when speed was not an option, I would have to take three trips when once I would have used all my arms and taken one. That it would take twice, maybe three times as long to do simple tasks like making a cup of tea or using the toilet or brushing my hair. Those tasks filled my days for several weeks. Everything took longer, everything took a lot more effort. And there was no rushing it, or I'd be left with a far worse mess, and time would start running backward. That way lies madness...

I'm honestly a bit amazed at my patience with it all.  I'm at peace. The old anxiety is off sleeping it off. 

Got to scrub on two little hand cases yesterday, patient numbed but awake. Lots of good data showing that carpal tunnel releases and trigger finger releases are at least as safe, if not safer, done in a clinic/office setting than the way we used to do them in full ORs. I know if I ever need this done that would be my choice, keep it simple, no sedation.  

The LPN who runs the clinic talked to the patient, and she did the charting and support. She kept apologizing about being required to watch me and "check off" my skills, when I clearly knew that part of the job much better than she did.  Well, I'm used to being watched doing this, we all watch each other in the OR, it's easy to let skills and attention slip, develop bad habits. Yeah, I've scrubbed liver transplants and back surgeries, but that can be an asset and a trap at the same time when doing a finger cyst incision in a clinic. Easy to dismiss small cases as less important, just because they are less involved. Easy to say "I've been doing this for 25 years...." and then screw up a simple task. 

The little things are just as important as the big things. The big things are just the little things all in a big pile. 

My job these days is to sort through the pile, tease out all the little things and deal with each one.  The people I've met, the ones I'll be working with, are good folks. Serious and careful and competent. The patients have complex lives, and their hard stories and issues, demand my attention. People who joined the military often did so out of desperation, few other choices. And the experiences added more troubles on, marked us and left us forever changed. Even if it was only a few years when we were much younger.  

We've been watching The Repair Shop, and it's good for my soul. To deal with each detail carefully, and with love. Yes, it's a big job, made up of one little thing at a time. Watching someone piece back together a broken chair or ceramic vase or carefully clean a painting or a wooden chest or rusted bicycle, mend a tattered teddy bear or disassemble an old stuck clockwork, may not sound like a good show, but somehow it is.  Unlike some "antique" shows, there is no greed, only love and gratitude.  Craftspeople who love a challenge, and tell their own stories. 

I have nothing in my childhood I'd want to be 'brought back to', I don't want my own connections and history. I remember it all far too well, and could do with a lot less. So watching the people who bring in items soaked in stories they want to keep, is lovely and hopeful.  They bring in their pain and grief and loss, and ask for help to transform it into something beautiful again. 

 If you read only one thing about the current mess in Afghanistan,  let it be this. 

Pique

 Zeppo has always been fascinated with grapes. It may be the smell, or something about how they look. He does not eat them, he just likes them. 

Stank

 Yesterday the smoke from the California fires got mixed into the front that brought us rain.  The air stank of wet smoke, tasted like when a pan is left on the stove and burns, a mud pie of ashes. Horrible, to go out to smell fresh rain and get a lung full of damp toxic fumes. 

It stayed like that overnight. Improved through the morning. Still not great, but we'll take whatever air we can get.  And the rain is still welcome, the garden doesn't care that much about the cremated and aerosolized remains of their woody brethren.  Plants are just fine with cannibalism, really.

Yesterday was a bit difficult, a training session with one person that went on way too long, and altogether too pointlessly, shoving out my lunch (which I didn't quite realize until I got home.) Three and a half hours. Really dispiriting. Today was much better. Slowly making progress. Still stumbling a lot, but less. And an online class that was actually pertinent, interesting and important, and only two hours. 

Parleys

 

Fire up Parleys Canyon started yesterday afternoon. This is the view from the end of my block. Several small communities up there evacuated, the highway through closed for miles. Still going this morning, 1500 acres, and smoke laying across the valley again. 

 "The blaze started Saturday afternoon when a vehicle with a bad catalytic converter spread hot particles along I-80 in the canyon and started the fire."

Fire and flood.  The flooding will come later this week, on top of the burn scar, which will mean landslides.  These are serious mountains, part of the Rockies. Storms are already lining up. 

Bulletin

The bees love the sunflowers. So do the squirrels - who climb the stalks, break them often, and steal the seed heads. I swear, I thinned them mercilessly in the spring. But two storms that dropped an inch of rain per gave them a big boost. It's a forest of sunflowers. 

One of a handful of programs I have to learn looks like this. Right back to the BBS I started on, run by a friend of Dylan's, and one of his colleagues. (I was only allowed on because Dylan was established and agreed to provide tech support for me.) It's as clunky and old-school as it looks. I've lost track of how many different programs I have to use, but this one is the oldest looking. I assume this makes it very difficult to hack the system, since even with access it's not easy to find information.  Still, got through the lists from two days to get each chart seen, and orders set up for x-ray, for this week's clinics. 

 

Semantics

 Training my brain to filter what my eyes bring in. This is the process for learning lots of new software screens and what to do with them. It is not unlike learning a new OR, which I have done several times. Where stuff is and what is there, and what to do with it. I'm learning swathes of protocols and processes, like learning to do crossword puzzles or sudoku. When I get it, when it gets easier, it's really satisfying. 

Yesterday, I was struggling to spot what I'd learned the days before. I knew I'd been shown, had even done it, and everything was semantic satiation*. Today, rowed into smooth water.  Still have a long way to go, but broke through yesterday's sense of being pushed back upstream. 

Got to pick up my issued scrubs†, a nice slate grey, very comfortable. Uniforms are my refuge, one less thing to worry about. What shall I wear? Not a problem. They have nice pockets, too. I do not have anything like "business casual" - even by the eccentric standards of the VA.  But I felt badly dressed, and self conscious about it. It was a small thing that I really think made a big difference. Reminded me of Basic, the first week spent in Reception Station, getting paperwork in order, and only at the end being issued uniforms. Another time my own clothes were inadequate to the situation, both in style and function against the cold. 

The garden is a bit miffed and dry, feeling neglected. The sunflowers have been broken down, which I thought was some odd person, until I saw a squirrel actually climb and weigh one down. Oh. Oh, well. 

The sunflowers have gone utterly mad. I know I thinned them out in the spring, really I did. 

*Learned this term from watching Ted Lasso. 

†Five sets, I wear them in to work, and take them home to wash. Free.  Although I suspect I'll be turning them in someday. Fair enough. 

Dry

 For the first time in oh so long, I feel really good about life. I'm cleaning and my back isn't in pain. 

Took a quiz, and did pretty well. 

It's been a long hard stretch.  I was already burnt out and looking for a change 2 1/2 years ago. Then broke my wrist, we lost Moby, my mother died, we both got COVID, then work closed down for same, plantar fasciitis,earthquake, land hurricane, toxic bullies at work triggered cptsd, back pain flared up, then lost my job. 

I'm not quite home and dry, but I am vigorously drying off. 

Cinderella

The smoke here today was the worst for any large city in the world. Oh, great. My lungs ached. The very close mountains were obscured. Altogether awful to breathe.  Flood and fire all around. Death stalks the world. And I try to make one small corner of it a little better, kinder, safer. I try to be one of the helpers, because what else can I do? 

 The new job started Monday, after flash floods the evening before and that morning that rushed down the foothills and left damage and pools. This area can't handle an inch or two of rain in an hour or so, it hurtles down in a deluge.  

Our orientation was slapdash to say the least. Several departments were supposed to have representatives, and even more failed to show,  excused as they were dealing with flooded areas. It was a true fustercluck. Still, some of the presentations were decent. Sadly, this did not include the HR/Benefits sections, and I'm still not sure about how to get some of this started.  I don't have the badge that gives me access to all the programs I will need to perform my job, although I have temporary, and limited access. Lots of IT issues, some of which were fixed, then fell apart. I've got a list. 

Worked with two other coordinators, who are getting me trained up. One is very good and thorough. The other has just not been there that long, she's doing her best. I'll be taking up half of her job, and I'll be very much needed.  The learning curve is steep, and I can barely start due to aforesaid access issues. 

Still. 

I'm going to like this work. I do have the knowledge base. I have the attitude needed. Getting it all sorted is satisfying. Some of my former surgeons are my current surgeons, and I got to see them in my new role. I got to demonstrate by asking pertinent questions. I'll get to talk more to patients. Even ran into some anesthesiologists I know, which was enjoyable. It's going to take a while to master, but... yeah, I can do this. It fits and it's where I belong. 

The VA is a lot slower paced, which is also helpful.

I have my own desk with a locking file drawer. This is new for me, and I like having my own little corner with my own little chair. I really do feel like an anti-Cinderella, looking for a quieter place to just get on with my work. 

Lots of stuff to learn, many errands to complete, names to remember, policies to apply, and I'm feeling really good about it all. Not where I am at the moment, but feeling up to it. 

 

Clipboard

 Really rained last night. The last two days, the storms split around us, hitting the Oquirrs and Wasatch ranges, but snubbing the valley. Hoping for more this coming week. 

Reading a book about memory, because I have to be better at names in the new job. No excuses, it will be a core skill I need, so I have to get good at it. The general wisdom is that it is a learnable skill. This book is readable, and not evangelical at all. 

I don't have to be perfect, I do have to be better. I will photograph anyone who is ok with that. I will write down names to make sure to get the spelling correct, and I will use all the other memory techniques to master this long neglected skill. I have pens. I have an array of highlighters to color code. I have notebooks. I have a CLIPBOARD*. 

*Had a clipboard throughout nursing school, and it was such a good tool. Stickers all over it, so it got back to me, too. Got rid of it in a move, but still had it at least 20 years. Smoked grey plastic, strong clip, an old friend indeed. 

Crowtalk

 Heard this neighbor before we saw them. 

Getting my head in the right space, gathering notepads and pens, clearing the ground, calming myself. 

Treasured

 Tokens of appreciation for all the people who advised and supported me, let me use them as references, through this difficult time. It may not look like a lot, but it's all well made and carefully chosen. The soaps - specifically for my aroma oriented friends,  smell lovely.

It's all about gratitude now. 

Strewn

The call came.  I start on Monday. And will be paid rather better than before. It all feels a bit surreal and flat. Bubbling up immediately was all the gratitude for all the people who kept me from despair, who let me use them as references, all the friends I had to inconvenience. Immediately sent out my thanks, before letting any of it soak in. All along I've been thinking, I have to send cards and little unique gifts in thanks, but not until I know, not until I have income, just in case, just in case. 

For I do not believe until I know.  I don't believe. I know, or I don't know, or it is unknowable and I have to step forward anyway. The lesson of Pooh.   If the gods are willing, this will be my last job, and my path to a decent retirement. And... I think I'm going to really enjoy this. 

I cleaned the laundry floor starting yesterday.  It probably needs this more often than every three years or so. 

Wordlessness

 

Microburst

 Yesterday, right after I did a better garden watering, we got hit with two microburst storms. The first one  about 7PM, dropping the temperature 96˚F down 25˚, but with a constant, growling thunder for a good hour ahead of it.   Some places got a half inch of rain in 15 minutes. And the rain kept falling, whipping, booming out of the skies. All my rain barrels are full. A street that often floods, a few blocks away, had 3' of standing water.  A town just south of us, near a burn scar, had to evacuate* for flooding/flash flood risk. A few hours later, another storm rolled through, but I was asleep by then. 

Video of different microburst storm. 

The porch is wet, the soil is saturated and happy, it's humid but much cooler.  I don't know how much we got here, but at least a 1/2", maybe up to 1" water. The official total at the airport weather station cannot be the same as what we got here, typical in this geography.  The sort-of closest station got 1" while another not that far away got 0.3".  

It was true wrath of gods stuff. I went out to make sure both rain barrels filled, and I was soaked to the skin. The people camping out overnight for the local kitsch parade no doubt had a bad time, but since that whole tradition seems insane to start with I don't have a whole lot of sympathy. 

Said parade is nearly over, and one of the covered wagons (they usually lead the parade) with cos-play settlers, but real mules and horses, just rolled past our house. Sorry, I was too slow with the camera, but I did wave. 

Plucking ripe blackberries at the rate of one or two a day. It's just one plant, it's doing its best.  And they are amazing. I keep going back to myself as a small child, sitting in a blackberry thicket on a slope beside the Rouge River, stuffing myself with blackberries to my utter contentment. The bushes were above my head when I nestled down, and I felt invisible and in my own private world, and full of fruit. 

Enjoying the mild day, my mood settling a bit higher today. 

*"Within 45 minutes, the burn scar received 3/4 inches of rain, and a debris flow was reported. According to Mapleton Fire, six to eight inches of mud, branches, and softball to basketball-sized rocks came down. Rows of sandbags were able to deflect most of the debris flow onto the road and away from homes."

Deciduous

 

It looks a bit wonky because I took this as a panorama, but it was the only way to get the whole tree in. 

Getting to the end of the process, I think. Had to re-write my self-evaluation for pay rate. It is an extensive application, and I started it as a 2.7K word essay, stuffed it into the form. The nurse manager evaluated it, and explained how to set it up and who my audience was, and how to improve it. So I took all the ideas and stories the creative writing brought to the surface, and formalized it, got really repetitive and explicit on outcomes (patient care and cost savings), and sent it back. She approved this version, and it is on its way to the board. 

I need to add that Dylan formatted and helped me piece it all together into a coherent whole, and made sure they would be able to open the document. 

It's always important to know one's audience. 

Splinters

 The last threads are holding as I await what will come. The cats seem happy with us, generally. And with each other, as are we. 

Enduring the heat and drought. 

Reading so much about the irrational followers of the angry and hateful. None of this is new, though. Following leaders into hell and destruction, betraying the king to install a different king who acts exactly the same. Switching one god for another god just as uncaring. The idea of a thoughtful, rational leadership is an anomaly, at least as a dominant force in human history. More often it's all about clan loyalty that shifts and splinters. It's biology, (and biological systems) and those are notoriously impervious to simple logical explanations. We can see the patterns, but with so many interfering patterns, it's nearly impossible to predict or control outcomes. In part because we are inside the patterns. It's like the story of scurvy, and how long it took to figure out the cause and cure. Lack of key information, complicating influences, careless studies, inertia of old ideas, preference for superstitions that do not need understanding. 

Read three books this week, my mind is churning.  I'd recommend all three, for very different reasons. If any of them appeal to you, they are well written and engaging. All very different. 

I'd forgotten the bible story this is written around, had to look it up. Such rough lives.  The god of the fathers barely touched the gods of the women. 

Lister really did take what was medieval surgery and transform it into a modern science.  And a genuinely good person, a real rarity at any time, but particularly in the context of a brutal profession. He certainly wasn't always right, but he always kept asking, with his focus always on his patients. 

Not as silly or magical as it seems, although yes, a bit of both. About friendship and freedom and taking care of each other. 

Cash

Mmmmmmwwwaaah!

C D B?

Serviceberry tree showed up and is making a run for it this year. I'd forgotten about it last year. Since it did, it got a stick to hold and extra water, and seems pretty happy. Maybe look more tree-like next year. 

Sat out with Eleanor this morning, buzzed by a pair of hummingbirds several times. Their flowers are only starting to bloom, so next week might be better for them. 

 There is no more I can do at the moment. The HR person who will look at what they will pay me is out of the office until Monday, even though my documentation had to be in by Friday. This always happens.  This is the last step before it is all completely official with a starting date set. 

I'm drifting into a sort of depression, not hungry, can't make myself do anything, oversleeping. Not badly, and I'm sure it's temporary, but along with the heat and smoky air, it's gotten on top of me. An existential cold, as it were. With a dollop of worrying over the world and all its troubles. 

Ironic, since this is the first time in my life I have not been down with a virus over a year and a half. 

It is a horrible situation so many renters are in these days, that a full time minimum wage will not pay rent, anywhere.  Not a surprize, but shameful. And here we are with a lower monthly mortgage, simply because we jumped ten years ago and got unbelievably lucky. If we were renting right now, we would be so screwed. As it is, we will be fine until I can get my first paycheck.  I do not really care what they determine my pay grade will be, it will be a living wage, I'll be able to retire, money has never been much of a motivation for me, after basic needs and security. I grew up poor enough, and lived long enough on several part time jobs, to know how much just having a decent job means. 

Really happy that people with kids will be getting extra cash starting this week. 

Soul

 Whatever your musical taste, whatever you do, find Summer of Soul and watch it. It beats the hell out of the Woodstock documentary.  We got Hulu for a month just to see it. It's in some theaters.  It's fucking amazing, and heartbreaking and important. That all this footage has been deliberately hidden for 50 years is a great sin. 

Mature

 

Heat exhaustion. 

Forming seeds.

Young 'un piggy-back on granny. 

Zeppo relaxed under Dylan's hand. We can reach down and pet him, even kiss his head. This is big. Only took two years...

Sweatbees

 Sweat bees on fennel.

Wrote a 2.5K essay on leadership to justify my pay to the VA.  My brain is currently empty of words, except for a few rattling around where I can't get to them. 

Whatcha

 

"Whatcha got there?"

"I got a bee!"

Balm

Bergamot/bee balm. 

 Long ago, before I'd even started nursing school, before Dylan and I knew each other beyond a passing nod, before I'd escaped from the ex, I got to go on an Army nursing recruitment trip to Seattle. I'm not clear on how this all came about, but we were nurses and nursing students the regular army wanted to commission, and I got a weekend away in a decent hotel with a pool, a room to myself, good company, a trip on a ferry, walked around Downtown Seattle,  and we toured around the original Madigan Army Hospital before the new one was opened.  

I was seriously considering going regular full time army, it was a way forward, a way to have an income and make the divorce happen with some safety. I had to complete pre-reqs first, which was in progress. 

Then I managed to get out by myself, and shortly after activated to GWI. Time for conversations with Captains who were army nurses, and came back knowing I did not want my life to be so unsettled and at the whim of the US Gov.  Nor was I interested in a life without Dylan. Anyway, got into nursing school, graduated, got a job with a living wage, and never really looked back. 

And now, well, kinda doing it anyway, but on my terms.  I expect I'll be called ma'am a lot. I wonder how many people I know I'll get to see. It can be a very small world sometimes. 

Nothing much is going to happen until Tuesday, due to the holiday.  Exercising patience. 

Chill

 Slogging through carefully. 

Thanks

 Nothing else to do over this weekend, for the first time in two months. Slept hard last night, a bit sore and stiff this morning. Eleanor woke me up, and has now claimed the bed. 

I needed a list of references, and found, as I so often have, that I have more friends than I thought. I need to write them all with more than a brief" Thank You!" - which was all I've been up for in the midst of all the forms. When I've got my first paycheck, I'm off to buy nice cards and thoughtful small gifts for every one of them. So much support from so many people is humbling and touching. This process has been... hard. Just hard. Walking on rocks in bare feet. 

My foray to the VA campus was a bit of flashback to my time on army bases. Something about it that is familiar. The phrase ran, "There's a right way. A wrong way. And an Army way." It was the first really effective experience toward dealing with my childhood - in ways difficult to clearly explain. Being shouted at by someone insane and out of control is different from being shouted at by someone in complete control of themself.  I've wondered if abused and neglected children who wind up serving are prone to worse PTSD, it's an area I think should be properly studied. The mild to moderate cases, the walking wounded in heart. 

I look forward to working more slowly, thoroughly, kindly. Taking time to talk with people.  Fostering curiosity and gratitude.

Drought

 Not bad for June, in the middle of a drought. Not enough, but today, right now, it's lovely.  My eyes relax, my skin calms. 

VA forms and processes are proceeding apace. My head whirls, but it's all getting done.  Fingerprints tomorrow to start the background check process. Physical  on Monday. Personal references.  This is a lot more than any other job, but I heartily approve.  This is a Big Deal.  And I take it with the seriousness it deserves. 

And the rain falls. My garden smells wonderful.