Dropping Drama on Its Head

I've learned something from a friend of mine - a lesson I wish I'd have developed a long time ago, but at a far lesser degree than he's developed it.

The lesson is to reject drama as much as possible. Because he is a very serene person most of the time, I've taken some of his advice and begun to observe just how much drama most of us tend to either live with or absorb from those around us. His theory is that in his line of work, he listens to other people's drama all day long; he gets paid quite well to listen to it during office hours.

But, step out of the office and he's done with drama. In fact, his exact phraseology is "If you can't f*** it or bank it, who needs it?" As he's an extremely wealthy guy, and he certainly seems to get laid often, he might be onto something.

At any rate, I've been so self-absorbed with my own internal pain/drama, that I have really began to notice when drama, in whatever form, enters my life.

I'm finding that I don't care overmuch for either mine, or the drama of others. Now, I'm not talking about refusing to listen to what's going on in my friends' lives - I still want to hear what's going on in their minds and hearts, but what I don't miss is the hysterical ravings of people who are almost out of control. There's a certain note that seems to hit when the drama reaches a certain level. It's partly "whine", it's partly angst, it's partly a demand to be listened to.

Note I said, "demand". It's that, I believe, that gets to me the most. It's that insisting, that get-in-someone's-face attitude that the speaker MUST BE LISTENED TO RIGHT NOW! Nothing is more important than they are!

It comes, I believe, in part, from being surrounded with instant communication all the time. We hear very little on the news that's not some form of drama. Even something with a happy ending has to have a dramatic beginning, or else it's not hyped up. There are no simple pleasures left in life, it seems.

People seem to want a quick fix, an immediate solution. No longer are we allowed the time to self-reflect, to dive into our own introspection. We *want* immediate gratification. Patience, as a virtue, is nearly non-existent.

I wrote on my Facebook today that I was having the sort of day that made me want to sit down and bawl in utter frustration.

I realized that it was due, in part, to dealing with the drama of everyone else today. Perhaps it's the moon phase or something - regardless, the intensity of the drama was amped up to levels that ended up affecting me personally - and THAT I didn't like.

In other words, I somehow was in the receiving line to get shit at and hit, as one of my relatives used to say. And, I don't appreciate that, because, in the words of my friend, I can't F*** it or bank it. Most of it happened after office hours, too!

The "Other" Side of the Desk....

My life came to a screeching halt On July 29th of this year. Not literally, of course, but for those who know me very, very well, it was no surprise to hear of my utter devastation when the news was given. And, no, I won't go into it here - there are some things that hurt too badly, cut too deep, and will probably never be recovered from.

The wound is so deep this Warrior has not cried; the tears are frozen in timelessness. I have no idea when or what event will make that happen. It will when it will.

The regular beat of my heart, the inhalations and exhalations continue of their own volition as promises I've made not to die at my own hand will be kept. Besides, there are a few people who would eventually meet me on the other side and beat the living hell out of me for doing so and I'm not particularly fond of thinking of future beatings.

So, I've kept quiet, laid low, mourned constantly while keeping "the face" everyone expects me to, for who would begin to think that I'd be anything other than logical and calm in the face of adversity?

Eventually, even desolation can begin to lighten when the right combination of events comes along. Prayer, angry bar-rattling of the Gates of Heaven (or Hell?) eventually comes around to everyone's turn. And, I think sometimes They take pity on the pathetic.

I'd been thinking about going back to school for awhile. As much as I enjoy teaching, and will continue to do so when I can, watching many of my co-workers furthering their education beckoned to me like a moth to flame.

I talked to my community college director in charge of EMS about beginning training, eventually to Paramedic. I talked to Ambulance Driver about how I could be utilized in the medical setting as a Paramedic in the ETC or general hospital setting. Both men were encouraging. Then I made the mistake of looking at starting pay for a Paramedic around here and the wages are...in a word...horrific. I make more money than they do, these brave men and women who actually SAVE lives.

It was back to square one. I was even more saddened, adrift in a pool of misery. I couldn't even write; not even angst-ridden poetry like a teenager. I began curling into a ball in my bed, staring at the wall, sleeping little, eating more and showing it on the scale. I quit talking to my kids and grandkids. My own pathetic company was best and that was enough to make me rethink promises.

Life consisted of three hours of sleep a night, wake up, go to work, drink far too much coffee, eat junk, and do what was necessary to "get by". The census was so low at work I finally packed my knitting and a book in my bag and eventually pulled the book out and read when things were slow.

The book was research for a character I'd been trying to develop for a story. In spite of myself, I became interested in the subject.

A part of it made me dig deep into where I began my journey on the Pagan path. I began stepping from one stepping stone to another, finally remembering my days as a massage therapist.

From that came idle research on the 'Net; nothing in particular, just looking around, checking out various modalities I'd gotten CEU's for in those days, seeing what changes had come about in the field.

And, I found out one of the best Reflexology Schools in the US was less than 30 miles away from me. I didn't know it existed. They've kept a tremendously low profile, purposefully. But, I figured, what good would that do anyway? I have to work, I still have teaching to do in the future. I can't exhaust myself like I did these last few months. I can't push myself like that anymore - give up things important to me for the benefit of others and leave nothing for myself. And, that, too, was depressing. But, I kept returning to the website and looking at the home page. Once, twice, and then again. The magic of threes.

On the third time, I read further - I checked the cost. It wasn't unreasonable. The course was a certification course. It had far more "hours" for certification than any I'd seen before.

But, it still remained that I have to work. But, I figured I might as well know all the news about it as someone might ask someday if I knew about it.

And, I was shocked to find that this school has taken students into consideration for needing to lead a life, make a living. The course is done over five, three day intensive sessions. It takes about 14 months to complete.

So, I took the risk, wrote to the school with questions. Received a prompt return call from the owner/instructor. And after a great deal of thought, and a great deal of encouragement from answered prayers on what to do, I've found my own self back in school for the first intensive.

I walked into the classroom as a student yesterday, cracked open the textbooks and information packets and felt as though...I was home. I was HOME. It's not massage therapy; I cannot do the diagnostic work of my past without getting yet another national certification test under my belt. But, I took my turn in the exchange, and as I placed my hands on my "patient", my heart soared with delight because I was beginning my journey back from what was stolen from me in 1992.

I've enjoyed the last two days of class immensely; Of the nine in our group, my ego is fed on some level because I already *KNOW* this material inside and out. The anatomy instructor is so good I've already told her I'm stealing her methods for my own phlebotomy class next fall. It's a great review for me, and the basic routine is about 25% memorized. Once I have the routine, I can begin finessing it, finding my speed and rhythm. And, after the second intensive in November, I can, even as a student, begin to charge half-price for the work. I've gotten the glimmers of a dream of what kind of a business I want to open when I'm finished with this. Or, if I will be able to stay in hospital work as more hospitals begin to develop integrated care to utilze both holistic and scientific medicine.

So, the work is subtle, the work is about healing. And, it may begin to allow the healer some healing as well.

Kate

News from the former classroom

I have spent approximately the last fourteen weeks in lesson plan land. I'm still not completely done - there's still a classroom to be dismantled, debriefing to be done after my students finish their clinicals, and plans to be made for the next time I'm insane enough to admit I like to teach and will take on another class.

The up side to this is that, having done the bulk of the work this time, the next time should be easier!

The road to today was a bit rocky, and I often wondered just what in the hell I was thinking to try to take on a class I'd only taught half of; yet, it seemed as though something was compelling me to take the risk to myself and go for it.

I worried because with the economy as it is, plus knowing the stories of the students in my class, they were depending on me to give them the knowledge to take advantage of a new career, should job availability open. Could I deliver what they required of me? I pretty much quit sleeping, averaging 3-4 hours a night, and giving myself permission to sleep till I woke up on days off, if a: my spouse would let me sleep, and b: I would allow myself to not overbook myself on days I could sleep in.

Some days it worked, others it didn't.

I told the coordinator that I only wanted ten students in my class. It was a good number, well within what I could offer them in sites for their clinicals, and an even number would create instant partners, leaving me with arms and hands intact because I wouldn't have to donate MY veins to the cause!

It didn't work out that way, though. The coordinator gave me 13 students. Sure, it's a good magical number for this Pagan, but there it was...my arms became open season once again! Damn!

I found out that I hate using Power Point as a basis for lectures. It's great for studying, in my opinion, but it still doesn't beat reading the textbook and doing homework assignments. So, that will change.

I've also found out that utilizing the style of another instructor is only good in the short term...as in when you're filling in as a substitute! Trying to lecture like my co-instructor did just didn't feel right to me. But, we did okay, the class and I.

I "test hard". I see no reason to mollycoddle a bunch of folks who presumably, are adults trying to find a way to make a career change. One person in particular who reads this blog occasionally knows the angst I went through. And, I'm grateful that he always took the time and had the patience to listen to me. Thanks, Wolfie.

I'll tell a wee tale or two, perhaps, about those weeks in another post. But, I do want to state that the first group of students began their clinicals yesterday.

And every single one of them "stuck" patients their first day. One woman was so stressed during class that she generally puked on class nights. She's gonna be wonderful - as will the others in that group of five who've began contact with needles and blood outside the classroom and lab.

I called the students last night to see how the first shift of real patient care had commenced.

The record...and I believe this has to be an ALL time record...came from the woman who chose one of the two clinical spots at the VA hospital. On her first day she got
ONE HUNDRED TEN SUCCESSFUL STICKS. And...she only had ONE unsuccessful draw.

The VA did something unheard of around here. They handed her an application to fill out for a job opening. She called me after her shift today and told me she had 53 successful draws today. I can't wait to find out what her grand total will be after she's done her 80 hours!

And, I was pleased to learn that her preceptors said that she had a teacher who knew her stuff; and that they had had other students that didn't make the grade. I have mixed feelings about that as I've always taught the lab portion, with help, of course, but this time I did every single thing alone.

I imagine I'll be hearing from the others periodically throughout the next two weeks and then will hear comments from the second group!

I will be tickled if most of them get hired out of their clinicals. I certainly hope so!

More to follow on another post.

PhotoContestPhotoContestPhotoContest`

The pictures are up over at Stardom Awaits!

This is our monthly contest which is all in good fun, though we take our photos very seriously! The theme this month is "Pets and Wildlife" Wander over to take a look and vote for ONE favorite picture.

Winners will be announced later this month

*ahem*

I just thought you'd like to know I haven't won yet! Just sayin'! You know...just in case you're having trouble deciding whose pics to vote for....;)

Seriously.....

As the mother of a child whose legal name is James Kirk, I have an affinity for people whose child naming reaches for the stars. But, galaxies far, far away?

We have a baby in room one whose name is...I kid you not... Anakin.

And of course, I cannot resist the temptation to greet him each morning by saying, "How are you, young Skywalker?"

But it gets better. Not only did I have labs to draw on Anakin this morning, but I ended up drawing labs in room two, as well. The child's name?

Luke. No relation; but wouldn't it have been a hoot if they'd been twins?

No, we don't have a Han, Leia, or Obi Wan. But we did decide we've had babies in the NICU who would easily be able to be called Yoda or Chewie.

We've also got a girl child named Layla. So, you know what that means? Yep. I walk around the unit along with many of the others and sing the song made famous by Mr. Clapton himself.

And, it looks as though I may be able to return to the land of Blog before long. I'm NOT going to commit myself to anything else - perhaps someone else will commit me, but I suspect that's a whole other thing.

I'm So Excited...

No, I'm not singing the Pointer Sisters...quite yet!

Why am I excited?

Because I'm going dancing!

Tonight is a gathering of some of the Iowa Rock and Roll Hall of Fame bands I used to spend hours with, dancing my little heart out.

My band in particular is/was The Do's 'n' Don'ts. They were from my city, in fact, I pretty much grew into adulthood with the band because some lived across the street, I babysat for one of the band member's kids, and worked on the ambulance service with several of 'em too.

Oh, and once in awhile I sang backup with 'em too. Didn't know I could sing, did you? LOL!

Anyway, I'm all dressed up, just like the old days, the body still moves pretty good, but it's heavier than it was in the days when I danced every weekend.

I'm gonna have FUN!!!!

Update - So much for dancing! When we got there, we found a dance floor the size of a postage stamp, and about 200 couples trying to dance on it.

My spouse and I didn't find each other till the show was almost over, but I had a spot next to the speakers, just where I used to like dancing all those years ago. As I stood there weaving to the beat, the organist looked over and waved at me; understand I have not seen the band for at least 25 years! Talked to her after the show for a bit and her husband, the bass player, said, "Hey! It's Kathy!" Now that tickled me, too, after so many years of not seeing them.

My former neighbor, and leader/drummer of the band is still singing, though his drumming days are over. The years have taken their toll and he's pretty much crippled up by all the years of playing. He can still rock out really well, in spite of the pain I'm guessing he's in.

I had fun, even if I didn't dance. And, my one snarky remark is that, upon seeing lots of folks who shared those dance floors with me all those years ago, I've handled the aging process quite well - although, some days it doesn't quite feel like it!

Phlebotomy Class Update...

I thought you might want to know the next chapter in the academic life of our student who is suffering with pharmaceutical-induced Parkinson's.

She met with the school coordinator yesterday afternoon. The situation was discussed and she was given an overview of the options as Jan and I see it, and the school backs us up on it, as they should.

Last night, the students had their second practical exam, as well as a written exam.

We settled them down with their written exams, then each student came in their turn to do their practical with either Jan or myself.

I encouraged Jan to take our student with the problem to make a final determination on the tremors. It was horrible, according to Jan. But, I don't think Jan had really seen what I had been seeing because the student had been dealing with me up to this point in the lab sessions. Jan was horrified. The student was allowed to redo the practical (in this instance) because she was still so uptight about her meeting with the coordinator earlier in the day. It was no better on the second attempt.

Now the waiting game begins. The student must decide whether she will take the offered full refund for the class, or if she will finish the didactic portion with the hope that the tremors will cease with a medicine change.

I simply will be praying for best outcome for all on this one; I hope that if this is the proverbial door being closed, that a window is opened far enough for her to see what she should do next.

The other students had the worst night lab-wise that I've ever seen. Can we blame it on switching to daylight savings time?

Almost to a fault, every student either forgot to ID the patient, or they forgot which tubes go with a plasma lab or a serum lab.

But...their sticks seem to be smooth, and changing tubes was better than I thought possible. They'll get better - but I certainly hate it when they screw up on the tests!

In other teaching news, Jan's medical problems have come to a point where she no longer wants to teach more than one class a year. So, beginning in late April, I'll be stepping up to the plate and taking over a class.

That's right...Kate has her very OWN class! And, I'm also pleased to say that the college is doing feasibility studies on producing a "boot camp" for retired nurses who want to rejoin the workforce. They've asked me to consider teaching the phlebotomy skills portion. I hope it works out to be a viable option.