Wrapped Around, Spun Around, and Pulled Down

So I think I've figured it out. I believe I can finally understand what it is that takes me so long to make my points and get into the meat of things. It's taken me all afternoon, but after being honest with myself and doing some hard thinking and negotiating, my talk with me has resonating inside for the last 2 hours and at this point, I'm saying all in. no holding back. here it is, out on the line.

I am afraid. I think I'm attempting to use this as an outlet and a place where no one who really knows me reads this with the exception of 2 people and so I feel comfortable indulging in my biased opinions and plastering them in cyber world. On the flip side I have this irrational fear that I'm writing for someone else who won't approve of what I'm typing, which is completely bogus. If I'm honest here, no one reads this darn thing which somedays is a major relief, but somedays a complete burn out. I guess I'm not sure what it was I was expecting to get from my 'blogging' experience, but I didn't imagine it would be like this. I put it on a pedestal and glorified what I was expecting. I suppose that's due to the fact that there is this stereotype with blogging, that it allows for mass followers and new stranger relationships to develop, and because I'm not experiencing that, I'm butt hurt. Sigh. Now knowing all of that I will proceed with this evenings post.

I am currently trying to put things back in order in my life. I'm standing at the fork in the road feeling as though I should probably start making some decisions, yet instead I continue to keep staring in both directions in hopes that a decision will be made for me. The only problem with that, is that if the right decision isn't made I will bitch and whine until it is, making the whole process a waste.
At this point I'm sure you're wondering what decision needs to be made, which presumably is a logical and rational question, that unfortunately lacks a mindful and heroic answer on my part. Yes, I am wondering what the fork is for and what it is I'm supposed to be deciding.
Okay hold on. I've confused myself. Let me piece this together. I want to put things back together in my life, I'm at a fork in the road and want someone to decide which way I should go because I am incapable of doing so, only if they make the wrong decision I will make such fuss that I will have ended up deciding . I then had hoped to give an explanation of what it is I was deciding about, only I don't even know what it is I'm deciding. MAN, I make no sense.

I think what I was trying to say before my defense mechanism kicked in and forced me to create a fumbling mess. The real issue lies in the fact is that I am unable to process any emotion and or react to it. It's like I've created the monster me. I have all these things happen and instead of leaning on the people I need I keep it inside. That can be a typical response for some people who lack trust for others. Anyways, this is about me, because if I start worrying about other people we will be here for another 7 hours. Okay- back to the thought process. I push my feelings inside and don't allow me to react because I am afraid. Of what? Feeling vulnerable, maybe but not really. If I had to make an inference of any sort it would be that I am afraid of what people will think. That I will be made more human perhaps. I can't find the logic in it, but it feels fitting. With that, if I actually talked about things that would me that I would have to deal with them, and apparently I'm too stubborn for that. I am hoping that I am able to sort thought this but in the mean time, I have a friend who's stuck to me pretty hard and seems to like to manipulate my mind. So in the mean time before I open my mouth but nothing comes out and inside I'm baring my face balling wanting someone to just force it out. I don't even know what that means. I don't even know how I want it out. I just … I'm longing for something. Sometimes I wish Molly would do it. She has once, but now I'm harding my shell. I am unable to cry and make me talk to me. I only hear my voice.

So back to the start. This isn't working. I figured out what the problem is, but now I am lost of how to fix it. I'm dwindling down. and my head seems too heavy to lift up. So smiles and laugh shall continue. I'm an adult. I can do this right?

Just a Little Lost Thought

I'm back. This time with a little less insight of the OR. I have shared more joyous experiences in the OR in the past week and a half, I had the luxury of being distracted by my work and no longer drowning in on the dynamics, which is probably better for us all.

I know I said that I wanted to get something off my chest last time I wrote and I also mentioned how I was probably going to do a double post, I think we all knew that wasn't going to happen. I am here now with every intention to write about something worth paying attention to as I write it, which you should all know, that's half the battle. Most times when I write I seem to think I have these really profound thoughts and ideas to share, but half way through trying to figuring out how to arise and properly ease into the topic, I get stuck in my word vomit and lost thoughts that I'm no longer sure are making sense. Geeze oh Pete.

I am going to work now and while I'm there I will ponder on how to cut the crap and say something worth reading, because I'm tired of reading the nonsense and missing my own points.

The Unfinished Analysis

I still seem to struggle with how I want to start off my mellow dramatic entrance when writing a new post, I lack the ability to ease my way into a new great topic that I hope captures my own attention as well as all the people that don't read this. That's besides the point. 

This week I've started working in the OR. Let me be the first to say it's true, they do eat their young. I had hoped that yet again I would be that exception to that (I seem to had this un-conveyed notion, that I'm an exception to just about everything. Why? I haven't the slightest), however, no such things are true and I am just another "number" per say. Besides the point, the staff in this OR is attempting to make me their next meal. That may be a bit of an exaggeration. 

The OR is a place where everything is based on persision, effectiveness, and the ability to achieve the best medicine for your "prepped field", or what some people like to call patients. Surgeons are an entirely different brand of people. In fact, each individual OR staff member has their own stereotyped category. Allow me to brake it down. Surgeons: the doctor that preforms the surgery, they are either removing, adding, braking and repairing, or exploring inside the body. Surgeons usually are "intelligent, conscientious, creative, courageous, and demonstrate perseverance on behalf of their patients. Being a good surgeon is a life-long process, and must thrive in the surgical disciplines and seek out all opportunities to go to the operating room. Surgeons must also be flexible as the surgeon’s day is rarely predictable. This volatile environment must be seen as an enjoyable challenge". Then you have the Anesthesiologist, or best known as the "sleep doctors". The best way I know how to describe them are, anal, controlled, quick acting, possess exceptional judgement and generally excel in clear communication. They are the ones controlling the patients airway and in a sense are the lifeline of the patient until surgery is over. They have the task of breathing for the patient and are able to give the surgeon the "go" to cut, and are the last ones to make the call if the patient is able to safely breath on their own and continue the recovery period. Then you have your OR- RN's. They are a whole other species. Here is my complete and utter bias opinion. THEY DON'T DO CRAP! Okay that may have been a bit harsh. I know they make sure everyone else is doing their job, and perhaps they do all of the legal crap with the charting, but I want to know who's hands are in the grime and who's  making sure everything else is taking care of. Awh, yes, that is the OR techs and Peri-Op Assists. Now, let me explain before you jump all over me. the scrub tech is working hand in hand with the surgeon, in other words, essentially is an extension of the surgeons brain. That to me is the real work in a surgery. To follow is non the less the peri-op support tech who makes sure the patient is safely on the bed to go to the PACU and prepares the room for the next surgery. So there you have it, the OR in a nut shell. 

Now you can imagine with all those diverse personalities there is bound to be conflict. Like any work place or structured environment someone is bound to feel more privileged about something which naturally leads to problems. 

I'm sorry to say that I've yet to fully develop my opinion of the dynamics of the OR and it will be a process before I am able to conger up anything profound. In the mean time, rest assure that I am loathing it and will continue to analyze the vigorous work in the OR. 

If I'm honest about what I had intended to write, it was NOTHING like what came out and as I type I'm debating on whether or not there will be an additional post made today. I would like to say yes, but we know from my track record that I am far from consistent on this thing and probably won't be able to keep any promises about writing on this thing. 

One thing I can promise however, is that I am sure to continue the OR happenings. 

I'm still writing. Mostly because I want to get something off my chest. I must start a new post, only after I ponder on how to articulate myself well about what seems to be weighing ever so heavy on me. 

A thought I can't make clear

I believe its now been 2.5 weeks since I've written. This doesn't make me happy. The great news however, is that I now am changing that.

Let's see here. I've now made my move. I am successfully living back in the city and I may just be loving it. I wouldn't say that it was completely a success, that's mostly due to the fact that my helpers all fell though. All but one anyways. I will however say this, aside for leaving behind the dry food, pots, and Tupperware, we got everything and that is left for another day. You see, my roommate and I are now renters of 2 locations, and for being 22, I must say this is a proud moment. Sort of. I would like to say that this is giving me experience for when I own two homes, only, I'm not really rich and am barely swinging it, but for this month it's working. We'll talk in another month and I'll let you know how it goes.

Other than moving. I've had the joy of not having to fill up my gas tank 2 times this week, only spending about on average 15 minutes to drive to work instead of 40, and buying cheaper groceries. So far I'm ahead. I've also gone back to work and started running again. I'm hoping things will start working themselves out.

My latest dilemma has been about something rather broad. I'm trying to figure out what in the heck I'm supposed to be doing with my life. I've managed to stay afloat this long, but really, my life is just beginning. Yesterday I spent some time with my little brother who is 6 years old. While giving him a bath he asked me how much longer has to be in school. Before giving me a chance to answer he said, "4 more years huh? It's going to take for forever." I looked at him and smiled and said in a high pitched mildly squeaky tone, "nah, longer than that, about 11 more years bud." His mouth just dropped and was not only in awh, but somehow crushed. It was in that moment that I had this delayed epiphany that we spend the first 18 years of our life learning how to live the rest of our life. This has me perplexed. Our lives really don't start until we are out of college, that's when it seems we get this chance to change and grow and transform into who we really are, yet when all of that stops, it's like we have had the rug pulled out from underneath us. Sure we know what's expected of us and we seem to just go through the motions and do what needs to be done, but where is the fulfillment in our true destined vocation we've waited and worked so hard to achieve.

I supposed all of this has come to mind because along with this move, there are a number of things that needs their ends to be tied, and by that I mean answers to my questions and peace with my decisions. I'm having a hard time finding the right words and perhaps tomorrow I will have a clear mind on what point it is I'm trying to make, but right now, this movie is winning.

An Ugly Realization

 It's been too many days since I've written something and I'm breaking my own promises to myself. Self- you're so unreliable. In the last week I'm managed to make a great recovery and rid my dreaded crutches. I had a crack in the head of my femur right in my hip socket and was forced by doctors to be non weight baring for what has seemed like FOREVER. In real time, it was/3 1/2 weeks. Either way, they are gone and it's one less thing to worry about. 

 Along with that I've been preparing for my move. Can I just take a second and say UHHHHGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG. I realized today while packing with a friend that this move has been the one move I've actually contributed to. I packed all my clothes. That's it. It sounds a lot more pathetic having written that out, it seems way more rewarding to see all of my boxes laying on the ground stacked and ready to be hauled away. You know, this brings up a great point I've been trying to get across to myself for years now. No human should have as much crap as I do. I'm starting to wonder if I have pack rat syndrome. Hhhmm. It wasn't until I started offering clothes to my friend and said "are you sure you don't want it, I've only worn it once and when I bought it, I had to have it." She looked at me puzzled and said.. "ahh, you're one of those." I then proceeded to tell her about how for 2 weeks I bought new clothes because I lacked the mental ability to do laundry.  That brings us back to my problem while going thought this next move. I am realizing yet again I have too much crap.