I'm at a place called vertigo...

I woke up this morning with a terrible case of vertigo. It was a little scary. I get dizzy fairly regularly, but that tends to be a hypotension related thing for me.
Anyway, today I literally could not do anything 'normal' without feeling like I was going to keel over, and had to stay in bed until I had to get up to go to work.

Naturally, I had to check out the details of this medical condition to freak myself out a little more. And I went straight for the sinister causes. Woohoo.

A number of conditions that involve the central nervous system may lead to vertigo including: lesions caused by infarctions or hemorrhage, tumor, epilepsy, cervical spine disorders, degeneration, migraine headaches, lateral medullary syndrome, multiple sclerosis, parkinsonism, as well as cerebral dysfunction.^[8] Central vertigo may not improve or may do so more slowly than vertigo caused by disturbance to peripheral structures.
Courtesy of http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vertigo
 

Yay. But I did find out that it's actually pretty common. What I was experiencing was "pseudovertigo" - an intensive sensation of rotation inside the patient's head. It is unpleasant and a bit freaky. And it has resulted in me having Vic Reeves & The Wonder Stuff's song "Dizzy" stuck in my head all morning.

Enjoy :)

Balls and all

There always seems to be floods of particular ailments appearing at the hospital. Normally it’d be something like abdominal pain, back strains or pregnancy related problems. I had the, ahem, privilege of being the primary nurse for a collection of testicular related issues this week.

Obviously, being deficient in possessing these appendages myself makes me somewhat lacking in appreciating their intricacies. But I have a pretty good idea of how they are supposed to look and behave, and these dudes and their testicles needed to be in emergency. Lucky me.

One older gentleman (I use the term very loosely) took great pleasure in flashing his genital area to almost everyone walking past his cubicle. I think only our wardsmen were spared the peepshow. The poor nursing students on prac in the department were quite traumatised.

Then there was the slightly odd young man… I don’t quite understand how you can get your balls caught lifting a piece of timber off the floor, unless it was sans underwear and he was attempting the hoist weightlifting-style, but hey I didn’t really want such a detailed description. What I found perplexing was that:

1. It happened nearly a week ago.
2. Both testicles were bigger than tennis balls and quite very much the wrong colour.
3. He was insistent that he was in 10 out of 10 agonising pain the whole time. **
4. He still managed to have sex with his girlfriend on multiple occasions since the injury. (He was not shy about sharing that!)

** "How much pain are you in?". My description of the pain scale to patients is quite clear. Imagine that zero is no pain at all; 10 is like having one of your limbs ripped off and being beaten over the head with it. Pretty straightforward I think.

And there were sooo many more. I will never complain about doing workups for 'boring' bouts of chest pain or urinary tract infections ever again.

* This may be a slight exaggeration as to the extent of swelling.

Nightmares

I very very rarely have bad dreams about things that happen at work. I can recall 2 or 3 things that have stuck & affected me over the years. Until yesterday.
The badness of someone has shaken me. And I'm not sure how much more of these kinds of things I can see without it changing me into a different person completely.
Does this mean it's time to get out?

Farewell

It is just past 10pm, and I am sitting at departure gate at Perth airport, waiting to go home.
I always feel a bit melancholy when a trip finishes, because it is like having a mini adventure, and I don't like endings.
I've had a lovely time here in W.A. I didn't get to see or do all of the things that I wanted to, but it is somewhere I can certainly see myself returning to.
In the meantime, I will slyly continue to spy on my fellow passengers and pray that none of them (apart from the nerdy sexy looking guy reading something on his iPad) are sitting near me...

The blind date update

So I just realised that I never did an addit about the 'date' a little while ago.
It went pretty well I thought. He was charming, and seemed interested given that he suggested a followup outing on the weekend before we parted ways. I even heard from him the next day.
Then... nothing. It's been nearly 2 weeks. Zilch. Yes, I have contacted him in this time with no reply. What is wrong with people?!
If you're really not interested, just fucking say so! It's not that hard. And I'd have more respect for you for doing that than being rude and ignoring me.

* Maybe I have unrealistic expectations about manners and honesty in other people. An ex once told me I was 'too emotional' because I was open about how I felt. Pfft. I'd rather be that way than completely closed off. Mind you, this is the same ex that went berko and stalkery when he found out I was seeing someone else and was begging for a second chance. Yeah. No.
** I have developed a bad track record with men with the first initial P. This is about number 4 I think. P's I am going to have to avoid like the plague. Or pertussis.

It's bad poetry Friday :(

Feeling somewhat morose about a situation, so here's some bad poetry to bring you down to my level of blergh right now. You're welcome.

****************

Unwanted feelings

Rebound to my heart again.

The story repeats.

In round-a-bout hell,

Forever turning circles.

I need to escape.

Fatigued beyond words,

Soul taking a battering.

Bruises can't be disguised.

The (mini) escape

As perverted as it may sound, sitting for close to 6 hours on a plane sounds pretty sweet to me. I've just worked 9 days on in a row, and I wanted to spend my lengthy stint of days off (5! As opposed to my regular 2!) away somewhere, doing something relatively holiday-like, rather than staying home. I like my place a lot, but it wouldn't have felt like a proper break to me, and that's what I really need right now.

It's been 4 or so months since I've returned from long service leave. It feels like years ago. I don't dislike work as much as I did before I went, but I feel more frustrated with it than I did, and I find it hard to hide it as much, which I think some of my colleagues find confusing.  Since I am usually such a level headed, even-tempered person, no one really gets my level of dissatisfaction and annoyance with the place, and certain patients and staff this time around.

So I am taking a trip. Fremantle in Western Australia is where I am headed for a couple of days. I'm excited to see somewhere unfamiliar and be in a place where I don't know anyone (well, I sort of know one person, but that's a whole other story)...

Imma heading *somewhere* here...!
 

 

Random stuff I thought of today

A few things that popped into my head today and stuck:

1) Buying more expensive pots and pans will not prevent you from burning things in them. 

2) If you're caring for an unpleasant patient / handling their relative at some point, the odds are very very good that you will not only see them again, but 
a. Be allocated to look after them;
b. They will not remember you at all; and 
c. They will behave just as badly the next time around. 
Joy!

3) Finding out that a frequent flier has died on your days off will still make you sad, even though they were abusive and a bit of a jerk a lot of the time.

4) You will still drink the godawful coffee that work supply because that's all there is, and breaks are too short to be able to go and buy one.

5) Sour apple flavoured Slurpees are pretty ace.

Because Monday's aren't hideous enough, let's add a blind date!

In other news this Monday...
I have agreed to go on one of these this evening.

blind date

n.

1. A social engagement between two persons who have not previously met, usually arranged by a mutual acquaintance.

2. Either of the persons participating in such a social engagement.

The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition copyright ©2000 by Houghton Mifflin Company. Updated in 2009. Published by Houghton Mifflin Company. All rights reserved.

 

It's been a while. My own fault. After my last experience, I wasn't that keen to try and navigate this universe again. I've never found it to be a particularly fun venture. Honestly, it is so much work and a bit stressful. Second guessing yourself, did I say the right thing, should I call, why haven't I heard from him, argh!

I do like a uniform. And I can do the earnest look.
But I don't think a nun's life is for me.

Having said that, the life of a nun does not appeal. In any way. But the one person I am interested in is not close by, nor do I know what they really think of me. So I'm apprehensive about taking a risk.

Hence, I will be having drinks +/- dinner with Mr Not-Quite-A-Stranger and hoping I don't vomit with nervousness beforehand. Or during - I'm pretty sure that would ruin things...

Death and the media

Today (allegedly) an Australian sports player died on an overseas trip. Media, both mainstream and social appear to be falling over themselves to be the first to post the gory details & identify the person.

I really don't understand this fascination with the death of 'famous' people, or any death deemed 'worthy' of making the news. As someone who has seen more dead and dying people than one should have to, and been with their grieving families at times, it really has me stumped.

It's never nice; rarely welcomed. It should be private thing. If it were a family member of mine, the last thing I would want is seeing it in the media, especially so soon after the event.

My cousin died in an accident a few months ago. It was news. And it was awful seeing my relatives, even though they weren't immediate family, on television at the scene.

I know this practice is not going to change. It's big news. 'The public would want to know.' Perhaps the majority do. But to me, there's enough sadness and bad things happening in the world to absorb other people's suffering as well.

Stress is poison. ~ Agavé Powers

How do you know when you are done with something?

Waiting for an epiphany which may never come.

I know I am not my usual self, but I thought I was still doing alright. Until someone today noticed and I nearly burst into tears.

What I would like is for something or someone to take the decision out of my hands, and soon.