Airport coffee can just kiss my ass…

I’m tired, I’m bitter and the charge nurse I worked with today pissed me off.  Get off the damn cell phone and do some work…jesus.  

I mean, I occasionally will answer a text or two while on the floor, usually hidden in the nurses station while looking like I’m on the computer entering data (yep, only dialysis company in California, not yet on chairside data entry…dumbfucks), but she blatantly does it, right out in the open.  

I even asked Ms. R to kindly add a note to all employees that texting messaging is really inappropriate.  Texting nurse decides it’s the right time to do the old “I won’t tell if you don’t” routine.

 Anywho, I’m stuck at the airport waiting to board my plane.   My mac was all I packed, along with a ski jacket and somefresh undies packed in a pocket…good lord knows I need new undies.   Oh and my BONET exam book which I should probably be reading instead of blogging since my test is on Monday and I will spend the majority of the next two days in U.S. airspace.  And trying to figure out how the hell to get my sister into rehab…and tell her she’s probably not going to be getting her children back anytime soon and oh guess what…I’m their new legal guardian along with your mother…yippee.   

Mr. Wonderful is actually being quiet wonderful, he’s asleep on the hard plastic chair at the moment, trying to catch some z’s before we head across the country into what I can only assume is going to be hell.  Yeah, just checked the forecast, lightening storms…yippee.  No I already heard this from Nurse R (Ms. R earlier, she’s our clinical coordinator) who told me that Heroin addicts who enter drug rehab programs such as the one Big Sis is entering only have about a 16 percent chance of recovery.

Not exactly what I wanted to hear but basically what I already knew since this really isn’t her first time doing all this.   Nurse R is basically my mentor (conjure up the image of J.D. and Dr. Cox on scrubs but instead of a grouchy old man, think of Carla’s hair, Elliots clumsiness and 20 years of Nephrology experience, that’s Nurse R.  I love her more then my mother) and I usually confide in her before anyone else, in fact to get the time off for my lil trip across country I had to tell her.  She was loving and kind and told me privately her fears on what this will do to me, emotionally and physically. I’m scared too, I cannot be responsible for these children, I am only 22 soon to be 23.  I was just accepted into the top rated nursing school on the West Coast, have a great guy who is crazy about me.  Damn, talk about bad timing.  

I, however, cannot let these babies go to foster care,  I guess it will be my burden to bare and if worse comes to worse I’ll just finish up my RN at a community college and get my BSN later on. Okay, first class was just called, better wait until seat 27 B gets called…oh and the OAK airport needs better coffee, this sucks! 

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~ by Kim on March 15, 2008.

One Response to “Airport coffee can just kiss my ass…”

  1. […] was a little nervous because texting nurse told me there was a beautiful tech that she didn’t like, and she had never done anything too […]

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