Homage to Friendship

I may go off the beaten track with this one, but I will talk about work also.

Today I was struck with the number of times this week I felt an overwhelming gratitude for the wonderful people that I work with. I caught myself saying for the fourth time: "I think you are amazing, and I am so happy to have you part of my life". My work peeps are an awesome bunch of people. From the freaky, sweaty ward clerk, to the hot Asian nurse, we are this ridiculous unit of people who make it work so right, even when it goes terribly wrong. We are this group who, like a family, is forced to see each other 40+ hours a week and work as a combined force. I learn everyday from them, and I truly appreciate all that they have to offer. Even when they drive me crazy and I am ready to scream "back the fuck off!". They are there for me, and I know they know that I will back them up till the bitter, bloody, sometimes twitching end. I don't cry at work unless I am with families, but I have never laughed so hard, as I do when I am at work. Even the residents, for all of their aloofness, are part of this revolving group.

I see the residents through the years, starting out and then really being actually smart, I grow to love them.

In my "real" life away from work, I am equally blessed. The best of friends from when I was five years old, to ones I have seen every Monday for almost three years. My husband, soulmates, unconditional confidants, sounding boards. There are more loves than I can name, but you know who you are. I am surrounded with this amazing support, and I don't know why I deserve it. As an awkward middle schooler with poor self-esteem, an emotionally mutilated family, and confused set of values, I have come to find that I am strong now, and most of that is because of the people who have helped to build me up.

I am still totally confused. I question my sanity daily. I don't know how I deal with these really sick people, giving them questionable hope. Holding daughters of men who have just passed, as I gave them the morphine relief to let their souls float away. I have had great loss myself. My sister, father, all my grandparents are gone. I have a a crazy mother, a fractured family, and yet I persevere. So this is my time to say: thank the goddess for all the love that I have, because I know that I would be nothing without it.

Boyfriends

As a nurse in an average sized hospital, I get to meet many nice looking men. Some of these guys I see fairly often become "boyfriends". I don't see them often, but we like to flirt and say hi. There is Kevin in CT, a handsome IR attending, some random residents, and some random male nurses from other floors. They are cute and easy to flirt with, but we are always just easy ways to pass the time. They compare nothing to my REAL boyfriends. The men I see up close and personal, and become intimately involved with.

I will see the name on the board and start singing "My boyfriend's back and we're going to be in trouble..."

Lately there is my sweet boyfriend, that no one else understands but me. He saves all his requests, demands for attention, tiny details of comfort, for me. He is a quad, can't talk. speaks only with his eyes, and lives for my attention. I know his every thought. We both like the sci-fi channel, we both like to breath comfortably, we hate drool, laying in shit, head turned awkwardly, being too hot, being too cold, we hate it when people talk like we are not there. We are a perfect match. A symbiotic system who will not rest unless the other one is comfortable. At this time, trapped in a hospital, I am the one who can give him release. He shows me his true side. Frustration, anger, loyalty, devotion, unrestrained joy. These are the feelings we both share. He loves it when I swear, sweat heavily, tell nasty jokes, and tell him to fuck off. I love it that I am the only one who gets what he is saying. I also hate it. I am possessive and defensive of him. I hate to see his head twisted uncomfortably when someone else has him. They are not as thorough and detailed as I am. He is miserable. And sometimes, I just walk by.

My other boyfriend that comes to mind is the opposite. He is the fattest and most nasty fucker you could ever meet. He is Jabba the Hut. Fat, ugly, hides food in his many skin folds, stinks, rubs his ass and then licks his fingers. He is so foul that EVERYONE knows him. To me, whatever, I could do worse. He may be 400 lbs. He may be the most disgusting person ever, but we are kindred spirits. Fuck what they think! "I like to be naked in bed, with only a pillowcase covering my (hot) crotch" He has to heave on his belly to pull it back to reveal his tender hidden areas. Sweaty and dank his folds of flesh are flashed. I may turn my head, and gag just a little. But, fuck it, I have seen worse. I hand him 4 alcohol wipes when I come in the room, tell him to wash his hands and nails. Laugh at his stupid jokes, and try to get him better so he can get the hell out. He is "the man who won't die", and he is my boyfriend for the day.
We finally get him out. The ambulance drivers call for back-up since they are afraid to lift my chunk of a man. I wave goodbye, but know soon enough I will sing my favorite song..

In the hospital, "boyfriends" can take on many forms. I hope I can go to CT soon...