Time on my hands

Going from working in a busy ICU, hospital care, to working in a Hospice, which is designed to look/act more like a really nice home/hotel, has been quite a difference. Where I work now is not clinical, in the least bit. It's a cluster of really nice rooms surrounding a gorgeous, high vaulted ceiling living room, with a fire place, comfortable couches and chairs to sit on, 2 dining rooms, a full kitchen, a small beverage center, a smaller, closed off sitting room. Very open concept everwhere else...

well you get the drift. Oh. And a pretty nice nurses station, too.

Anyhow

Its acceptable, in the middle of the night, while my charges are sleeping, and my paperwork is done, for me to go sit in the pretty living room, by the fire, in a comfortable chair, and read. I even got myself a Kindle, so I'd have portable books at my finger tips. (They even say I can nap, but I just can't bring myself to do that, I am 'working', after all).

So, I read. And last week, I finished this book, called "Defending Jacob", its by William Landay.

Now, I'm going to totally ruin the book for you all, so if you want to read it, you should probably stop here.

The book is about a man, who was his small town's assistant DA, whose 14 year old son gets charged with murdering one of his classmates. It turns out this father has violent men in his family tree, his own father is serving life in prison for murder. And his father before him killed some one, ect. ect.

So, they are exploring the concept of a "murder gene" with this kid. And it goes through the trial, the impact it has on the family, ect. ect.

In the end, the kid gets off, and they go on vacation. And the kid meets a girl. And, she dies....

hmmmm. But they can't charge the boy, no evidence at all.

So they return home, to their small town, and then, the mother of this boy gets him in a car, and drives them both into a big bridge cement pillar. Killing her son, and nearly herself

That ending really made me think. Especially now that I am a mother to a boy.

If I thought my son was a murderer, (now of 2 people), what would I do? If I knew he'd inherited this 'murder gene', and had the capacity to kill people, and learn from his first mistake, how to do it without getting caught, how would I handle it? Especially considering this boy was only 14 years old? Would I have the balls to drive into a bridge? No. Actually, I wouldn't. I just cannot even fathom it. Nor can I really fathom that MB would be a serial killer. It kind of brings to mind the whole nature vs. nurture arguement. Is it possible that there is a gene that predisposes people to murder, despite a stable, loving upbringing with two good parents and a happy life? What would a parent do, if that is the case? The book really got me thinking.

Oh, and in other news, MG got a kitten this last weekend, a little grey and white boy from the shelter. His name is Loki. And being as she left for school, right now the little mischief maker is laying on my arm, watching me type. MB is laying in the crib, complaining that he is in the crib. I'm trying to let him fall back asleep, but it's not really working that well. Once I bring him out, the cat runs to hide. (Smart cat).

How's things with everyone?

Duh, or maybe A-Ha?

First, to Daryl, I took off the WV :)....

Now...

This is going to probably sound silly. But yet, here it is.

I 've been working now at the Hospice facility for just about a month, on the inpatient side, and soon to go to the outpatient side. (I get to have the experience of both. It's a good thing).

Anyhow.

Today I kind of had a rough moment. I wasn't working or anything, but I was checking my voice mail thingy for work, and well. Most of the patient's that I have interacted with for the last 3 weeks are currently in the process of dying.

Duh, you say. I do, after all, work for hospice. They are what we refer to as "actively dying", meaning, that they will probably be gone within the next 24 hours.

It hit me today.

NONE of my patients are ever going to get better. None of them. Thats the whole point.

Now

I knew this. I did. And I am still totally game for this job. I actually really like the organization, and the whole concept of Hospice care. And I'm good at it. I've been good with the death and dying for most of my nursing career thus far.

But, being a hospital nurse, of course, our main goal is usually to save people and have the happy ending, blah blah blah. Some we didn't save. Some people, dying and going to a better place *is* the happy ending. And as a hospital nurse, I had the people getting better mixed in with the people who died.

Now?

I just have people dying.

And I found myself, crying in the grocery store over this epiphany. Not wailing and gnashing of teeth. I just had my moment. And then I realized what a big adjustment my brain just made, and accepted.

Because I am a hospice nurse....

NOW it snows... figures

Leap day brought us a pretty darn good storm this year, and despite the weather man predictions, its still snowing today. One of those wet, slushy mushy snows. And of course, yesterday we had things to do that needed to be done.
They make it a 3 ring circus now for women to change their names after they get married! I kind of understand why some choose to keep their maiden names, now....
However, my last name, for the last gazillion years, was my ex's name. I never put it back, because all of my military paperwork was in that name, and it seemed like a ginormous hassle. I wish I had, though. Every time I wrote that name out, after we were divorced, I felt kind of like a fraud.
Ah well. No difference. I've jumped through my many hoops, and now have a new name :)
MB is getting bigger, and much more interactive. He still really likes people. Yesterday, he charmed everyone in the bank, including the big, burly banker who just HAD to hold him while I was signing their paperwork. It was funny....
This blog post is massively boring....
I'll come back when I have something good to say :)