Homework sucks.

Go get your bachelors degree.  It'll be great they said.  All it is is a bunch of papers.  I call BS.  Full on BS.  It's not just papers.  I can handle papers.  I'm GREAT at papers.  No, it's research.  Lots and lots of stupid research.  I mean, like....learning how to look up different terms, and what shortcuts to put next to the word so it looks exactly where you want it to look for that word, and not another word.  Confusing?  Yeah, it is to me too.

I do not want to do research.
I don't like doing this kind of research.
I don't know how many different "alternative terms" there are for Bedside Registered Nurses. 
For the love of the profession!!!  I seriously do not like this crap.

Now, pathophysiology?  Holy cow I love that class!  I love learning about the body, and how things work inside of it.  How the inflammatory response triggers SIRS, and how when that is left unchecked it can turn into Sepsis; and how this all boils down to damage on the cellular level, and getting back to taking care of the smallest parts of ourselves.  THAT is what I like to learn about!

NOT evidence based research searching guidelines.

And don't even get me started on how far behind I am on Spanish.  Why did I think I could handle taking 5 classes this semester?  I mean, it's only 3 at a time (Spanish is a full semester, and the nursing classes are 2 at a time for 8  weeks at a time) but still...

Thank You God for the gift of a loving and supportive family.  Without them, I would be nothing.


Ok, back to learning about boolean whatever they're called.

I'm 'ok'

I've been putting off this post for a while, because it's not an easy thing to admit to.
Admitting things to hubby is normally easy, but even this I sent as a text message.  I'm depressed.  So many things happened at once, and I couldn't handle it . Me. Mrs I can handle anything.
 I. Couldn't. Handle it.
So, while I was texting my husband about how I felt, and praying about what I should do, the phone rang, and it was the doctors office telling me it was time to make my appointment.  Ok, point taken.  I called and made an appointment.

Best decision I've made in a long time.

The first day after starting medication I rolled over, looked at Imzadi and said (actually I whined) "This is suppose to make me feel better." He told me I know better, that it doesn't work that fast.
I told him I know, but still...I wasn't a nurse at that point, I was a patient.
The next day I had to work, and I was "ok"  Literally that.  "ok"  I was able to go to work, and function.  Quite a different feeling than the last time I had gone.  I had a meltdown and cried at work the time before that.  The only reason I stayed and didn't walk out?  I didn't want to lose my license.  I at least still had the mind to think ahead and know that losing my license would detriment my family's life. I could not make them suffer on account of me not being to handle life.
The next few days I found myself getting better and better. 

A week later, I noticed at my daugher's volleyball game, I felt joy.  I got excited.  I'm feeling like I did before.  I hope this lasts.  I don't think I'll be on medication for the rest of my life, but I'm glad that I made the decision to RIGHT NOW take back my life and start feeling human again.

First P-day!

So, apparently in the MTC p-day is not always on Monday. Apparently it depends on when you arrive to the MTC.
Today was Stephanie's p-day and it was glorious!
We got pictures and correspondence from her.

She's already asking for a care package. She's asking for spicy peanuts.
LOL
 I'm exhausted as I write this, but I wanted to share that I got to "talk" to my baby today.

Monday Monday

So, I know there is this world-wide "hatred" of Mondays, but if your a missionary mom, Monday is the best day ever!
Tomorrow is my first Monday as a missionary mom, and I'm ready.  I'm so ready.
It's only been a little under a week, but I'm ready to hear from her.

Bring on the e-mails!



In lieu of her being gone, we have started to move her youngest sisters into the same room.  Or, maybe I should say, the 21 year old has made quick work of moving her baby sister out of her room.

 To say it is going well would be a lie, a flat out lie.  One kid has so much crap she almost puts me to shame (I know I'm a pack rat.), and the other wants to control how much crap comes into the room. 
Sorry to break it to ya dearie, all the crap is coming in, and melding with yours!  This is actually what they are going to look like I think...only  aiming at each other.

Right now I have a kid sleeping on the floor, who use to be on the top bunk, but somehow her mattress got switched to the other kids bed?  I don't get it either, nor am I going to try. Meanwhile, the other kid is sleeping on the top bunk because of the fore mentioned mattress swap.

 I have some time off during the week, and well, they have school, (well, I have school too, but I think I may have to take some matters into my own hands) and I may do some rearranging myself..

Or, I'll just suffer through their bickering and get mad, and deal with it.  Which is the more likely outcome.

But hey!
Tomorrows MONDAY!!!!!!!

Irma sucks

I'm sure I won't change my mind in 3 days when team b rolls up in here with fresh faces.
If you ever want to talk shit to a nurse, remember this picture, and know we make sacrifices for you, and our families have all sacrificed for you.
We are not with our loved ones right now, we are here...trying to sleep on this cold hard floor, during the day, in a busy hospital.

Good Night Tampa.

I hope you're here when I wake up.

The Call

It happened at 5pm last night. At 1647 to be exact.
It went a little like this..."hey Amber, it's ______, I have to call you back until 11.( that just means you come in late and go somewhere else, or you get cancelled at 11.) "
OK, did you hear anything about being activated?
"Yeah, you'll report tomorrow with all your stuff and be prepared to be here until Monday night."
Ok. (I had an audible pause.) Alright, I'll call at 9:30.

What just happened.
That was it, that was the call.
I am going to spend the next few nights at the hospital, because of this.

 

This gigantic wind maker.

I'm leaving my family-who Par'mach'kai and I have made sure will be safe.  I CAn't imagine his stress level, as he's evacuating with the kids alone...and his mother. Not to mention our 3 dogs, our cat, her cat, and Missy's guinea pig.

We're ready.

We are ready.

We will do this.

My bag is packed.

I brought food to work in advance to put in my locker.

I bought stuff for my family to have in advance.

We have a plan, the kids have assignments, we got this!

But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared, and I'm pretty sure hubby is too.

So, while my family is at "other Bills" I'll be here:

Stay safe Florida.

(I know this one is hard, but...) Be smart Florida.

The waiting game....

So much is hanging in the balance right now.
SO. MUCH.
Stephanie is suppose to leave Monday afternoon to go to Utah.
I may have to be at work all weekend. (like....at work, not leaving.)
We may have to evacuate.
We may  not have to evacuate.

All because of Irma.
Beautiful hurricane Irma.  Lets not deny her of her beauty.  Her eye wall is so well defined, and the way her cloud cover is holding up against the mountains of Haiti and Dominican Republic is amazing, and awe inspiring.

However, her destructive behavior is like a woman scorned on a drunken meth induced bender.

So, we wait.
And things get cancelled.
School, college, temple trips, Stephanie's open house, maybe Stephanie's flight.
And things get planned.
Evacuation stuffs: food, water, toiletries, bedding, clothes, the animals, shelter.
All this stuff I get to worry about while I'm at work. This will be our first evacuation without me. I trust that my husband will have everything under control-and we've already threatened my children's lives to be on their best behavior and comply (Like good little Borg drones.)

To say I'm nervous would be an understatement.
To say I'm worried wouldn't be a complete lie.

I have to work tonight, so I need to sleep, but the mom inside me is screaming to get the food rations in order.
No, I take that back.
I feel like I should be running around like a chicken with it's head cut off screaming and yelling, forcing the children awake as they watch me divvy up their food rations.  I don't want them to have any say in what they get, I just want them to watch so they know it's done.  I also just want them to be awake and spend time with me, so I can make sure that here in this moment, they know that I know they are ok-even if it's just for this moment.

The not knowing is killing me.