July, 2007 Archive

what compels a man to look at mere ideas of breasts? i mean, even when he is sick, 78 years old, and his wife is six inches away?

if this is the philippines, a little poke with a safety pin hidden in the pocket, intended for situations like these would be appropriate. but this is america, and frankly, i am terrified of being sued.

the thought of confronting him at first was very strong, but iplacedt myself in the wife’s shoes, and i cringed. the second time he did it, i felt embarassed to say anything because hey, i kept my mouth shut the first time. the third time it happened, i was just so eager to get away, i didn’t have the energy to say anything. besides, it was 0300 in the morning! if he kept doing it the whole shift, why stop him when the shift was almost over? what was the big deal? 

well, in case he didn’t really notice…

i am barely a cup B. barely. so seriously, what’s there to look at?
man, you’ve never heard about discretion? your wife was literally six inches away!

i know. i know. this is an old repeated story…but some guys are just relentless. and years of being stripped naked with looks have never made me comfortable. i should have been immuned by now.

i guess my questions are:

guys, what do you expect us to do when you shamelessly stare like that?
experienced nurses, what do you do in situations like these?

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“i just want you to know that my wife/daughter/sister/aunt/cousin is a nurse too. do you understand?” (usually said/asked in an irritated tone, mostly because they disliked something)

those who are not nurses, do you get this type of statement/question when you’re at work too? or this is sort of exclusive to the healthcare providers?

i’m asking because when i eat out and i feel disappointed with a waiter’s service, i don’t sarcastically say “my nephew is a waiter too you know.” or when i get impatient at a bank, i don’t normally snap and ask “my uncle works in a bank too, do you know that?” etc. etc.

i mean, what do people mean when they say these to us nurses? i listen and answer with silence, because honestly, i don’t really know how to answer. what are the motivation and expectations behind these statements or questions?

i guess my questions are:

people who ask/say these sort of things, how do you expect me to answer or react?
experienced nurses, how do you respond to these?

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a big THANK YOU to all of you who answered my question last week.

i did realize that it is pure, unadulterated pride that causes me to never ask for help. somehow, i just don’t like being rejected. i always rationalize that everybody in our unit knows that i am one of those nurses who never call for help unless it is really necessary. everybody also knows that i always ask nicely and always say thank you.

i expect people to willingly help me because i am polite and don’t ask for help very often. i interpret denial of help as rejection, and my pride kicks in and unconsciously wants revenge. i mentally declare war by never asking for help. in the process, i enable the lazy (i apologize,m there is just no better word to describe them) coworkers to be lazier, and those who are helpful, i wear out.

i was wrong, and your comments made me realize that. i had to change my attitude, and i did. call it coincidence, but two days after i blogged about it, those three people (2 RNs 1 PCA) on my list were all working. i have asked help from two of them. next time the third one works, i will swallow all the pride. she will prove to be the hardest because everytime i ask her for help, she goes on her smoke break. but i will do it. one baby step at a time. i just need to be patient with myself.

it was one of those informal birthday celebrations. after dinner, the adults scattered to different corners of the house and discussed whatever it was that adults discuss at occasions like these. the kids were ushered to the family room, were instructed to behave while the adults talked their lungs out, and then, the movie was started.

the movie was about a horse named Spirit. how he faced the challenges horses must face. it was also about Rain, the mare he fell in love with. it was supposed to be a cartoon movie made for kids, but i sat on the floor with all the other children, fighting back tears when Rain was in danger, and Spirit was dying to save her. embarassed that the kids will see me, i sneaked out of the room when the first big drop of tear fell.

unfamiliar with the house, i ended up in the kitchen. he was standing at the door, and i didn’t really notice him. i didn’t even know he was watching the movie. he hugged me, and then he whispered to me: “you are my Rain”. then, there was no way i can stop the tears.

if you’ve watched the movie, and have seen how Spirit decided to willingly change the course of his life for Rain, and how unquestionably willing he was to lose his life to save her and be with her, i think you’ll agree with me that to be called Rain based on this premise, was very sweet. it was obviously corny, but undeniably sweet. and romantic.

it didn’t matter to me that people watched the movie and saw other issues like disgusting generalizations of white and native americans. some raved about the music (how boring or how fantastic it was) and the beautiful sceneries. in my mind, “Spirit” will always be a story of love. love for oneself, and for another. it will always bring back warm feelings… if he was Spirit, i will always be his Rain.

that’s where the email address “windowsofrain” came from. i decided i will cherish that moment of being called Rain, even if he ends up not remembering he did call me that name at one time. all my posts here serve as windows of my life because i tend to reveal myself to everyone, little by little, with all the things that i say. every post is a window to my soul.

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i do not usually feel comfortable blogging about mushy, personal stuff, but i thought after what Sid wrote about me and my blog, the least i can do is answer his question about how i came up with what he thought was a very poetic email address. well, it wasn’t really meant to be poetic, because honestly, i do not have a relationship with poetry. i just thought it was appropriate to bottle the moment. considering that my husband is not romantic by nature, a rare romantic experience was worth the trouble.

i’ve always called myself a frustrated writer. i am embarassed by this, but it is the truth. let’s face it, i can always be frustrated, but i will never be a writer. i know that. i have no illusions of being published beyond the college paper. for my blog to be reviewed by a former editor may mean nothing to other people, but it means something to me. and though i am slightly  embarassed by the fact that he noticed i “ocasionally mix verb tenses”, i’m happy that he still ended up adding me to his blogroll of “well written sites.” i know it is wrong to be flattered so easily and so openly, because it makes me sound so self absorbed. it’s just that i won’t lie and say i am not flattered, because the truth is, i am. flattered and grateful at the same time.

so please, when you get a chance, check out Readers and Writers Blog, and tell Sid i sent you over because i want to thank him. besides, if my assumption that “all bloggers are frustrated writers” is correct, it is a site for all of us. after all, if we are not frustrated writers, aren’t we all adventurous readers?

i have a very bad habit and i badly need to change it.

at work, when i ask somebody for help and they say/do one or all of the following:

1. “i’ll see if i can help you later.” then, they continue bidding on ebay.

2. “am i the only one here? can’t you ask somebody else?” then, they go out for a smoke.

3. “an hour ago, i cleaned/fixed him all by myself. just ME, all by myself.”

4. “can’t you just wait for the day shift to clean him?”

5. pretend they didn’t hear, and just keep on talking about how skinny angelina jolie is.

when i hear/see any of these, i end up not asking that person for help anymore. never. ever. now, after an incident two nights ago, the list of people i will never ask for help has gone up to three.

i asked our patient care assistant (PCA) to help me fix an extremely confused patient who kept trying to get out of bed. every 30 minutes or so, despite the vest and wrist restraints, half of his body was halfway down the bed, it was scary. the PCA sighed and repeated response #3 twice.

“okay, you mean i have to do it by myself then….”

she didn’t answer me directly, but when i was inside the room trying the impossible, behind my back she said “did i say i will not help? i will help.”

i never asked her for help after that. she followed me around a few times, asking if i needed help to fix the patient (which made me think she was sort of trying to make peace with me because she was guilty) and i told her he was fine, and i’ll just ask her for help later. which of course was a big fat lie, because i know for a fact that i have no intention whatsoever to ask for her help. ever. 

if i don’t change this horrible attitude, i’m pretty sure that before i turn 40, i will either have a broken back, or i will learn to be one of those nurses who just look the other way. both scenarios are very depressing.

to be honest, i don’t even know what to call this thing i do. you think i can call it pride or just a bad case of rejection issues? if i don’t know what it really is, how can i start fixing it?

i don’t know.

in 1992, they were in las vegas, celebrating their wedding anniversary. as expected on occasions like these, they were both very nostalgic.

they started dating when they were both in high school. he was her first boyfriend. two kids and a few years of difficulties did not tear them apart. it drew them closer. she fondly remembered their very first winter here, the used comforter they got from a thrift store. “life was hard back then, but we have to start somewhere, right?”

a couple of nights in vegas was perfect in itself. but then, there was the gift. he gave her THE gift. for them. his and hers watches. not just watches, but matching rolex watches! at first, she was furious. who wouldn’t be? especially when she found out that his was $3,500.00 and hers was almost $3,000.00. what was he thinking?

well, he explained, both of them have been working really hard for years. she has been working two full time jobs while taking care of the kids, and she has been very understanding of his job in the navy. money is just money. this was a very special occasion, and he wanted to make it memorable by spending on themselves this time. even just this once.

she has been wearing that watch ever since. true, she has collected a lot of other fancy watches, but nothing warmed her heart more than her rolex. not just because it was obscenely expensive, but mainly because it was so sentimental.

this is the kind of love story that is almost guaranteed to have a happy ending. except this was reality, and sometimes, life happens to get in the way.

about five years ago, her husband went home to the philippines by himself. the reason for his solo vacation caused a lot of tension between their relationship, and rightly so. the few months preceding his trip was disturbing. she was aware of the secret messages. she was aware of the money spent on a new apartment. she was told of the rumors. she knew the other woman was young enough to be his daughter. she knew of the supposed pregnancy. and sadly, he didn’t deny.

she questioned everything she believed in. herself. him. their life together. she thought she will end up with answers. she didn’t.

then, she got the news.

he was murdered.

it was speculated it was initially intended as a simple hold up. you know, he was from the states and surely, he had bucks to spare. unfortunately, things didn’t go as planned, and he ended up in a dark alley, dead. the case was never solved, the killers, never found.

the years that followed were a blur. all of a sudden, her life was changed, and she was alone. the loneliness was unbearable. she only found solace at work, even when she didn’t need to. his insurance paid off the house, and his benefits from the navy paid off the kids’ college education.

still, she worked. and worked. and worked.

i questioned her about this many times, the first few weeks that i’ve known her. why at her age, she wanted to work six nights a week and not take it easy? “honey, i need the money…” she said at first. after a few months of seriously telling her she should relax instead of working her ass off like a mad woman, she told me the story. she told me how staying at home dries her spirit and drains her soul. she told me how she knows she should let go even without the necessary closure, but she just can’t.

she told me she goes back and forth between forgiveness, anger, even disbelief. she told me it was extremely hard. “i was 16 when i first met him you know…that is a long time. a very long time…he was the only man i loved. the only one….”

my heart went out for her everytime we talk about it. for somebody who tallks a lot, i always end up the conversation with a deafening silence. and always, i see her gently touch the watch. the now 15 year old rolex watch.

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it is my theory that buying a watch that was ridiculously expensive was her unconscious first step to moving on. finally, after almost five years of losing him. it is my theory that she didn’t find the step very easy to take. that’s why she didn’t really wear it, except when she was trying it on. it is my theory that she wanted a new watch to wear, so she can go out with those who are interested without being reminded of him. remined of how he made her happy and sad at the same time. it is my theory that her head really want her to let go, but her heart was really stubborn about holding on.

these are my theories. these theories are the reasons why i sort of understand the whole thing now, no matter how incredibly stupid it all looked at first. on top of that, i realized that given the kind of money she has, which she earned through years of honest hard work, there is no reason why she can’t buy whatever it is she want and can afford to buy.

i asked “what” when she said she might go to switzerland next year to buy the same watch, because i thought it was crazy that she would subject herself to the same psychological torture. i found it insane that she bought a single watch with an amount that could have bought her 40 or more fancy watches! i told her this over and over, and she just laughed. even when she told me that the credit card company just sent her a letter stating they will only refund 2,000 dollars, she was still laughing. “money is just money honey” she said, quoting her late husband.

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it took me a lot of thoughts before finally blogging about this. i have debated it in my head over and over. it sure sounds like gossip somehow, and i didn’t really want to tell everybody her story, but i also felt it would be unfair if i kept the rest of the story to myself.

i personally understand the thoughts that fellow bloggers had when some of you commented she acted really stupid by leaving her watch on her bag when she went to the restroom, because maybe, there is some truth to it. to be honest, i felt the same way at one point, and a lot of people in our unit still feel the same way. i also understand the thought that for a lot of people it is not reasonable to buy such an expensive thing just for a souvenir, because i also personally felt the same at a certain point.

needless to say, this post is not to criticize you for criticizing her. we all react based on our impressions a lot of times, and i don’t think that is wrong in itself. what is sad is when we continue to to criticize even if we know there might be a reasonable explanation for somebody else’s questionable action.

the whole point is, i want you guys to know that she did not just make the story up. she traveled with two other nurses who work in different units in our hospital, who unfortunately both sat far from her on the plane ride home, but were both with her when she bought the watch.

more importantly, i would like to make it clear that even if we all consider what has happened as a result of her being stupid, i would like to say that this single incident does not define her as a nurse. i have told her this before, and i will say it again here. if i ever get admitted, i’d like her to be my nurse, because the truth is, she is one excellent nurse.

i would like to apologize to her (although i doubt she will ever read this) for blogging about her life. although it looks like it, my intention is not to gossip. furthermore, i would like to apologize to those whom i have misled by leaving out details that could have changed your perspective about this whole aggravating stolen watch story.

this little situation just reminded me that blogging has its limitations. i hope i didn’t mess with your head as much as i messed with mine when i thought about all these things over the weekend.