The Harsh Reality

The harsh reality is that my adult coping mechanisms do not engage until noon.  I have given this 4 in the morning crap my best shot and I am not winning the battle.  I might be able to fake my way through a 6AM wake up call a few days a week and manage it but roll-call comes much earlier than that.  I can wake up on Island time and enjoy the day but intricate elements of my survival plan include umbrella drinks and beach-side siestas - and management refuses to sign off on either.  So...  I am left with the facts.  I will never thrive on day shift and oh - how I ever enjoy thriving!

My life is about smiling from the inside out.  It's about happy, goofy dogs playing in the sun.  It's about truly "being present" for the moment.  It's about sharing that energy with friends and family.  It's about resolving any possible problems before they happen.  I like having a plan.  I like to eliminate worries before they hit the horizon.  As my nephew Grady told his mom one morning, "Mom, it's Auntie A.  She takes care of everything.  There are NO worries..."

I can't do that at 4AM.  At that hour, I am grumpy.  I obsess about coffee.  I am resentful of my husband, still asleep in our nice, warm bed.  And I worry.  I worry about my patients.  I worry about my skills.  I worry about my charting.  I do things two, three, four different times because I don't remember actually doing it.  My brain is asleep, people.  I can't wake it up.  I don't enjoy chatter.  I am not present.  I am in survival mode.  Non-critical chit-chat pisses me off -- don't those people have more important things to do?  And where the hell is the coffee?!  There is no smiling on the inside, there is merely gritting my teeth on the outside.  I can't troubleshoot, I can't problem-solve and I certainly can not formulate a plan.  These are higher level thinking skills and non-existent in the brain that is simply fighting to survive.

And daylight savings time? It simply put me over the edge. This morning crap is crazy and to do it all one hour earlier than the week before - that's just plumb freaking nuts!

So I have begged my bosses to help me find a way back to night shift.  It's where I belong.  It's where "my people" thrive.  It's where all of the "told-you-so" friends are sitting back with a big ear to ear and all-too-knowing smile.

I am again smiling from the inside and happy to know that someday I will be back to my normal self.  Until then, just a suggestion; approach me cautiously before noon and perhaps even arm yourself with an extra cup of coffee - just in case.





The "make it all better" coffee mug.

Life

Reach.  Stretch.  Grow.  Love.  Dream.

Identity Crisis?

I'm just not a morning person.  I never have been.  My mom bought an alarm clock for my little sister and I when we were in preschool and kindergarten because she didn't want to be the one to wake us grumpy girls up in the morning.  My sister adjusted.  I did not.  I like to stay up late.  I like quiet.  I like to gently let go of my dreams and ease into my day.  Being thrown into wakefulness with the annoying shrill of a clock leaves me feeling unbalanced and unsettled for the first few hours of each day.

I've tried to be positive about my move to day shift but honesty tends to win out with me.  It's hard.  It's like the beginning of a new fitness routine.  Do I like it?  Um... Yes?  Maybe?  It will get better, I think.  I still find myself sleeping in until 10 every morning the alarm is not set.  Sometimes it's closer to noon that I crawl out from the covers in a blind fog in search for coffee, like today.  Eh, it is what it is.  I am who I am.  I think maybe that my internal clock is Australian.

And then there's the cows...  Our neighbor is using our corral for his herd and I have to admit, it's something I really miss.  I found a calf out of the pen late last night.  I wasn't quite sure how I was going to get her back where she belonged but we've had some close encounters with coyotes (and maybe even a cougar) so I knew this wasn't something that could wait until daylight.  Unbelievably, she let me pick her up and set her back in the pen through the fence rails - which was great news because the gate was on the opposite end of the corral.  There's something sweet about that warm, soft fur and blind trust that just has a way of making everything in this world seem so simple.  I miss that.

So now I'm a night person working days who lives on a farm without cows and an ER nurse in the part of the hospital that doesn't really have emergencies and I'm not really too sure how this life is suppose to fit into my psyche.  It's all a bit foreign to me. 

For now I think I will go get my poop boots on, trek through the mud and go check on the cows that aren't ours and scan the highway for any possible traumas on my way.

Live More

Fall has always felt like the right time for change and this year we are making quite a few.  We are simplifying, downsizing, making room for opportunity. 

The cows went to the auction block, every last one of them.  I'll miss Tinkerbell but she has spent the past 5 years becoming less of "my cow" and more a part of the herd.  We had several events this past year that made me realize we either needed a few more closed gates down our driveway or it was time for her to go to the sale.  The rest of the herd had a date with the auction block and it just felt like the right time for her to go with them.  I will miss her, I will miss the unique bond between human and animal but I have faith that she made it to another field and will bring someone a beautiful calf next spring.

I am giving up the nightlife of the ER for a more bland, less dramatic dayshift working with patients admitted to the hospital.  Less trauma, less adrenaline balanced with more family, more time with friends.  I admit I will miss the thrill of saving a life from the brink of death and there are those that have just giggled at my plans with an all knowing, "Oh, you'll be back..." but I believe this is the right choice to make right now. 

I vacillate between excitement and regret.  I love my job.  I love the people I work with and for.  It takes a lot out of me but I love it.  I will miss it.  I will NOT miss the exaustion of maintaining a nightshift life in a dayshift world.  I will not miss the choice of missing sleep or missing family, missing sleep or missing friends, missing sleep or missing fun.  I will not miss being too tired to remember anything.  I will not miss feeling left out of my own life.

Dayshift will be a big change for me.  I will need to be up by 4:30 on the mornings I work but I am excited to try something new.  It won't be as action packed as the ER but it will still be something I love.  I will continue to be the best nurse that I know how to be.  And who knows, maybe on those rare days that someone calls in sick, the powers that be will decide to float me back down to the ER to cover a shift or two.  It might be enough adrenaline to float me through -- and if it's not, I might just go skiing.

A New Normal

Spring was not a time for growth and regeneration this year.  In fact, it's been one of the tougher seasons of my adult life.  We said goodbye to Bitsy the Wonder Dog, then we said goodbye to my Grandpa Pete and then we lost my Dad.  It was bitter, it was cold and the storm front didn't pass until about last week when the sun finally peeked out from behind the clouds and the daily temperature shot from the 60's into the 90's.  I'm not going to pretend that it hasn't been rough.  It's been hell.  The important part is that we found our way through it and we did it as a family.

Things are different around here now.  The story continues but it's a definitely new chapter and the newness of it hasn't quite worn off yet.  There's a new crow from the chicken coop, the sound of a puppy yapping while she plays in the yard and the husky bark of my Dad's dog as he adjusts to his new home.  We have the bottom hay fields leased out to a neighbor, most of the cows have been moved to a different pasture closer town and even Tinkerbell has a date with the auction block in the next few months.  I'm slowly but surely decreasing the size of my chicken flock, I don't work as many overtime hours and I spend a few minutes of every one of my days literally watching our green grass grow -- yes, you read right, we finally have a lawn.

So yes, things are getting back to normal around here.  It's a new normal but we're all adjusting to it and embracing what it brings.

Not Much Happening...

I believe we are about finished calving out here on the farm.  I've decided to let go of the responsibility and let my father-in-law run the entire show.  If he gets to make all of the decisions then he can figure the rest out, too.  I just have Tinkerbell to worry about now and that seems to be enough for me - well, Stinky-Tinky AND the chickens, of course.  Tinkerbell had her calf last week.  He's a cutie.  He got a little confused after he was born and followed me all the way back up to the porch.  Tink was not happy about that but they figured it out and things have been fine since.

We will be bringing home a new puppy in another month or so.  She's a little Corgi.  I never thought I'd like that breed but I some how fell in love with the little beasts.  They are a big dog brain on little dog legs.  They are herders, which I think helps me understand them a little bit better than other breeds.  We'll see how Scout likes the company.

I've been spending my nights either at work or at home learning all about digital scrapbooking.  You'd think it would cost less and be much quicker but that hasn't quite turned out to be true in my case.  It probably has something to do with my ancient desktop computer that I still refuse to upgrade from XP.  

Chicks will begin arriving at the Feed Store this week.  My goal is to get a couple Americaunas (green egg layers) and a few little bantams.  That's it.  Now that I've figured out what I like and don't like about this chicken business, I'm going to thin down the flock some.  I think 30-40 chickens is about the perfect number.  So if you'd like any 1-2 year old hens that are already laying great eggs - just let me know and I'll get them ready for you!   

More Chicks!

I had nearly a 100% hatch rate on my latest incubator full of eggs and now I have 42 chicks that need a new home.  Fall may seem like an odd time to hatch chicks but I think it is the perfect time.  They can spend the first 5-8 weeks in a box in the garage as their feathers fill in and only need the heat of a lightbulb to keep warm through the nights once they move outside.  They should start laying eggs in April and lay nearly daily until November.  Most chickens like to take the winter off but I can usually convince them to keep laying by bribing them with some heat and light.

The downfall of getting chicks in the spring is they only have a month or two of established egg laying before the days shorten and weather chills - the two factors that can end the laying cycle until the following spring.  I look at the issue from a mathematical stand point.  Fall chicks tend to provide a better egg to food ratio over a lifetime than the spring chicks. 

Keeping chickens is so much easier than most people believe it to be.  My first flock I spent hundreds of hours in self-education and more money than I like to admit in building the perfect hen house.  My second flock, I incubated myself and used a left over dog house with a tarp over top of a chain link kennel.  Frankly, the second flock of chickens produced more eggs.

Chickens are so easy to keep that I think more people should have them.  Hens can live in most city yards.  They don't take a lot of space to live.  Fresh eggs actually do taste better than store bought eggs and it's nice to not only know where food comes from but what it's treated with before it gets to the frig.

If you want to give it a try - call me.  I can hook you up with eggs or chickens or both...  If you don't like raising chickens - you can bring the chickens back to me - or eat them.