13 rocks, 13 stones

"Diving into the Wreck"

2009-08-26T08:02:11Z

The land of which gathering takes place, not only is safe-to me, yet contains some type of magik not well defined. Strange things happen to the mind. Days are smeared together, clouds take on shapes, there are strange lights glowing from the woods, during the darkest night, stars fall, and animal noises are heard from your tent.

Fairy's are ~~deleated~~ overlooked from the no-talent show.

I was planning on reading a poem, during the Annual no-talent show. This choice was made prior to embarkation. Risky perhaps, for most displays are quite flamboyant, and jovial. None-the-less, I thought, it would BEST display, my high school forensics background.

During 2007's gathering, Lark introduced me to the piece, while watching clouds roll during a lazy afternoon. Having not heard it before, I would spend an evening, coping the poem, into my journal. Adrienne's words, discription of a scuba dive to a shipwreck, had hit a cord: I found insight within.

During 2008's gathering, moreso to stock the internal fire with more wood, I had Lark read the poem, during an afternoon of sharing, with Salamander and Mamaki.

It was only mandatory, obligatory, and ritualistic, for me to read the poem. It was my turn.

As the week progressed, the nature of holding court with Salamander facinated me, held intrique. Yet, I still maintained gaurded, and held an open mind. As he had prior stated "we could go deep or shallow as we want". I was game, on my own silent account, that I would need pushing into the "lake", Salamander would have to do that.

As the week progressed, dance cards, got filled. As much as time isn't an issue per se, it gloams over like looming rainshower. We finally decided Thursday, after brunch would be a good time. Dive into the river, its probably a good idea.

What I realised out of the conversation, not only a new-found respect for Salamander, but a clarity and a peace. The discussion was similiar to therapy, sans the $263.00 fee. Sometimes best things in life, are free....

Being my third gathering, I focused my thoughts within, my involvement with the fairys, what brought me to the fairy's, and of the "wreck".

The "wreck" being the topic of conversation. Unknownst to be, I had held court with Salamander in '07, therefore only a refresher course had to be given. We'd had been here before.

His questions were unorthadox, unexpected, and fresh. They also contained the maritime allagories, that I salavate at the mention of. He suggested, and agreed that returning a certian someones phone call wouldn't be a good idea.

The ocean, seldom gives up its dead. Shipwrecks lay buried, corroding into the elements. The Titanic has become a type of tourist attraction. Dives to the luxury liner, keep asking questions, revisiting, probing for answers. For which there may be none.

What I saved from the conversation, was the absolute peace I felt afterward. I was in that moment, and that moment was o.k.

Gifts come in many forms, karma recycles and returns differently. Over the last few years, my life has changed. That is why I returned. That is what I was looking for.....

...inidently, the poem I was going to read was "Diving into the Wreck" by Adriene Rich".

yogalake3

2008-08-13T03:14:35Z

FRIENDS ONLY. COMMENT TO BE ADDED.
*I "cleaned" up my friends pages. If I accidently removed you from the list, please don't take it personal. Just shoot me a comment, and ask WTF. It could be because one hasn't posted in his or her jounral in years, or I got click happy.*

Introduction...

2008-08-11T23:15:27Z

How long was I, in this place? hours? Minutes? Decades? Certianly not, but possible. For on the land, time pieces are merley a hellish hinderence, a useless thread tied to "That" place. That place of wal-mart, of dead-lines, curfews, and periods, moments, defined and placed into categories. Numbers.

Because I have all the time I need.

I realised this, as I woke up from my slumber this morning. I drempt, and possibly slept walk, examining the fabric curtains, the moonlight through the window. "Am I in my tent?" I asked myself, as I slowly drifted onto the queen size matress, and warm, DRY, blankets.

No, this wasn't my tent. I had indeed returned from Kawashaway.

After such an amazing experience, still riding the energy produced and somewhat contained, I find myself today wanting to be alone, adjusting to my mudane home.

And drown out to some Kristina Das. The cd's were my self-welcome-home gift.

Slowly acclamating myself to the this old world from the land beyond. I had lunch with imyaj, had a wonderful conversation with mom and dad, and Jim (of Jim and Dennis) came over as well. The house was well kept, and Mr. Phat Borris was awaiting....of course I talked to Al-the-healer as well....we are having dinner tonight.

Slowly, that which was, will succumb to be locked in memories and totems....as if it were nothing but a dream.

This year at Kawashaway was about aniversarys. The 21st gathering, the 20th on the land, and the 19th of the Radikal Faeries. Or something to that effect. During the ten days, there was alot of reminicing, recalling, return to events that happened in the past. How things were, and how they have ermergeged, grown.

There is a partial of land available to us, for expansion. As we were piecing together the past, we were figuring out our fortune and our future.

I met Willow in the wood. A young soul, who was on the same cruise ship I was in 2007. There is no doubt, there was a reason for him to return to gathering after a 7 year hiatus.

This year was an aniversary for me. A year. A calander year, from start to finish, a foot race, of the moment I decided to heal myself. I decided, I made the choice for myself, to make a change. To LIVE THROUGH THIS. THIS LIFE THING ISN'T FOR SISSY'S.

Much like last year, I returned to no messages, or letters, or e-mails.

Funny how things run full circle doesn't it.

Except that I have changed. I have grown. I have started to heal.

My daily routine was to awake, and do meditation each day, on what I would learn, and what I would teach-to the day. I would have brunch, and dinner, wash dishes, and spend the early morning reading, doing art, or talking by cander light......

Return

2008-08-11T04:25:43Z

I return, from the woods. Pulled in about 8:00p.m. I will be posting my journal entries, and the experience over the course of a few weeks. I took 1,500+ photos as well.

AMAZING.

All in due time....

Its a long road

2008-07-30T09:24:13Z

Its a long road
Originally uploaded by kevinmergen

Two years he walks the earth. No phone, no pool, no pets, no cigarettes. Ultimate freedom. An extremist. An aesthetic voyager whose home is the road. Escaped from Atlanta. Thou shalt not return, 'cause "the West is the best." And now after two rambling years comes the final and greatest adventure. The climactic battle to kill the false being within and victoriously conclude the spiritual pilgrimage. Ten days and nights of freight trains and hitchhiking bring him to the Great White North. No longer to be poisoned by civilization he flees, and walks alone upon the land to become lost in the wild. - Alexander Supertramp May 1992

*See ya'all in 2 weeks.

A home at the end of the world

2008-07-29T18:28:00Z

"he isn't lost, he left".

Retreat, hippie gathering, mens festival, boundry waters, camping: I've labeled the radikal faeries many things. Some people just don't get it. And that is o.k.

One doesn't need to "get it". This journey is mine. You have your own. Choose as you will.

My parents are asking for contact information, just in case they "need" to get ahold of me.

Justified, I struggle with what little information I have, to release.

One walks into the wild, because they 'don't want to be contacted'.

Kawashaway lacks running water, electricity, modern conviences on the simplist level. Mobile communication devicies fail--there is no reception.

Mundane names and your mudane life are disregarded. One is associated with his mind, actions, thoughts, and at times, how well he can suck cock.

Even if they were able to somehow relay a message to me, without knowing my "fairy-name", the "telephone game" easiy can be dead in the water.

Here's the deal: if you havn't heard a peep from me, come Aug 15th, enough of you have my contact information. Start connection.

I leave in 30 some hours... and counting....

Monday Morning Yoga Update

2008-07-28T13:02:25Z

I've taken two classes with Sid.

What I appreciated most about today, is seeing the regulars shuffle in, and familiar faces.

Was honest with Sid, about my latest blunders in yoga. She listened, and we continued to converse long into the hallway. She asked me to come back, and I will. Informed her that I would be gone for 2 weeks at a mens festival...

She asked if it was that "fairy thing".

She knows White Ash. We hugged, and I felt good energy.

I havn't felt that type of energy in a long time.

The end has started...

2008-07-28T05:09:34Z

Monday Morning.

The countdown and tying of loose ends has started.

I am 99.9% packed. Although I still feel after editing down a third time, that I have overpacked. I'm erroring on the fact that I am sleeping in a tent by myself, and that this is my second year, with the idea of staying the full 11-12 days.

I know there are some people that I may not get a chance to see before I leave...imyaj, you are so one of them....

I'm using this gathering, as a real chance to heal, to reflect, and just spend some time alone... and sleep all day.. and not worry about ANYTHING.

Readers who have followed the saga, along.. know exactly what I am talking about....

Its been a full year, since i have been up to gathering....

and last year was so FUCKING amazing... I can't wait to see what is instore.

Yoga termoil

2008-07-27T23:31:45Z

Went to Yoga today.

It was taught by a english german accent speaking female Hitler.

I can't win.

Al believes this started a month ago, however I tend to disagree. This is the FOURTH time in a ROW, that yoga has SUCKED major balls.

I don't know what the fuck is going on. I'm so better mentally than a year ago, and yet my power house, is just..well wacky.

I feel like Goldilocks and the three bears. FOR REAL.

Tomarrow morning, Sid is teaching. *fingers crossed*. There has been *substitues*, and maybe just well.. not good strong energy.

I'm going to go to the studio EARLY, and have some "me" time. Then I will do her class.

IF IT SUCKS,

Game over.

Prepare the way

2008-07-27T06:25:13Z

Driving, long distances, is therapeutic. Watching the miles tick by, singing along to songs from the heart, while the mind wonders ahead.

Finally, the event I have waited for ALL fucking year, is arriving, by the hour. The end is in sight.

Tonight I said my farewells to my social circle, and relaxed. Tommarrow I'll hit yoga, and hopefully be on "plan". Wednesday will be here sooner that what I think.

Tonight I pack. The major hurdle is not the clothes, nor the supplies for 10 days of camping in an area with no electricity, no running water, and no internet. Once I am an hours drive away from Kawashaway, I'll merge into the vortex of no longer being trackable. I'll disapear...

..... I went into the woods to suck the marrow out of life....

This period marks an aniversary of sorts, of where i was emotionally, physically, and maturity wize, a year ago. A whole year. 365 days. The full circle.

The major hurdle is not the clothes. It is what to bring to keep myself occupied. What art supplies, what "things" will nuture me, help me heal....

I have some books, some art supplies, and misc "stuff". Will whittle the list down, and see what I come up with....

The end is at hand

2008-07-26T06:01:37Z

Drove back from Valley Ridge art studio today.

The drive to and from Valley Ridge is the most picturesque, and lazy drive. I enjoy it so. Driving gives me time to think, and let the mind wonder.

By far, Valley Ridge is the shit, as far as being able to have access to a decent, friendly, and supportive art community/classes. Highly reccomend it.

With that being said, the people who attend the workshops are another matter. Yet again, the older female clientele, are not able to think creatively-outside the box, and need step by step directions as to how to solve problems. I make it up as go. Specifically, they need to know what the EXACT product is being used, where it was purchased, and where they can find it. Down to the fucking lable.

Which is fine-its valid, I suppose. There are 1,000's of products on the market, and there are some that are better than others. Anything can be used however, in art. ANYTHING.

I just find some of the questions to be quite--anoying.

My digital camera died.

I need to purchase a new one prior to camping... which I leave on Wednesday. And can't fucking wait.

The end is near.

The gifts of yoga sleepovers

2008-07-23T03:52:39Z

Al and I had a sleep over last night, except he slept, and I couldn't.

Went to Temple of the Dawn Yoga this morning (Yundalini) and usually the yoga really works for me. Today it didn't. At all.

Al made the comment that the last 3 times I've gone to yoga, it has been primarily a dud.

What's up with that?

I'm traveling again. This time back to the "ranch" of my parents. They are massively cleaning/renovating the basement, and thus have a pile of "things for me". They said they wanted me to take something, and if I could guess what it was.

I nailed it on the head.

My grandfather was the last WWI Vet in the Grant County area, I believe. I'm taking back the flag that was placed on his coffin. It is in one of those wood cases, and will look lovely displayed.

I'm elated to have it. It is quite the honor.....

Feeling a little bit accomplished

2008-07-22T07:44:59Z

I floated Sunday night, to organ transplant.

Actually I do enjoy that unit, quite a deal, therefore it was a very easy twelve hour shift, before my fabulouse four day stretch. I'm not back untill Friday. Leaving tomarrow for Michael's art class at Valley Ridge. I feel I'm talking way to much shit.

Al came over, and helped me decide which funky 1960's-1970's frocks to schelp with me up to Kawashaway (Faerie Gathering). His honest opinon was invaluable. Somehow over the course of the year, I "overbought" psychodelic prints, skirts, dresses, ect. ect. And although a well thought out wardrobe is 1/2 the battle, I needed to edit. Although nudity is quite acceptable, I'm a little more hesitant to strut in my birthday suit, in the woods, with mosquitos.

Actually felt as if I accomplished some things on Monday. Took my bike over to Veronicas to have fixed, and had a good chat with her. I also moved some "plants", over a friends house, which had to get out of my yard.

It looks like I won't be traveling up to Kawashaway till THURSDAY. I may spend a day in Minneapolis on Wed night, and head up from there, with Redwing: which incidently may be a smart thing to do.

My digital camera took a shit. The one I bought at a rummage sale to replace it, and spent 50 bucks on a card, appears to have taken a shit as well....

there will be photos. Just not sure how this is going to quite work...

Once the gathering is over, I'm planning on posting a photo-montage of the invinsible summer.

The three wise women

2008-07-20T13:51:09Z

I get off on wierd incidences, having fully invested in the church of: everything happens for a reason.

I ran into three women last night who I havn't seen in years, and have known me as such. Although the night shift as whole is a close knit group, seldom do we tend to meet people outside of our little hospital units.

Although, it could be my eccentric personality, I tend to be imbedded in peoples memory for quite some time. I just think it is because I'm wierd.

My co-worker Paula, died a year ago in June. I didn't journal regarding it, because although I miss her, everyone who knew her, have long left for other adventures. Amy was there. She was the first to show herself last night. Amy and I bonded over volleyball, the night shift, and her and I had a wonderful working relationship. In fact, I might of hired her.

The second epiphany, was Miss Sharon. Older, she precepted me into the role of a nurse on our unit, 8 years ago in November. I always respected her, and knew that deep down she had a hard life, but never showed it.

The third, and most important, was Chris. We had a smokey breakfast in the parking garage, and caught up on each others lives. Although she black-balled me during her post divorce agnst, I still remember her as being a catalyst in diagnosing my depression. And although she herself has major psychological issues, I still enjoy seeing her now and then.

What does this mean, nothing really... people come into our lives for a reason, a season, or a lifetime.

And that is todays sermon.

The daily report

2008-07-20T09:36:17Z

There isn't much to report, for July 20th. Although it is leperheart's 34th, birthday. If you see that old bag running ragged, tell her to have a smokin' good birthday.

The land of Yoga has been interesting. Let's just say, I'm not a happy yogi currently. Class cancelations, and subsitute yoga teachers, make me cranky. Enough gloom and doom.

Leave on Tuesday for Michael DeMengs art workshop at the Valley Ridge. That should be great fun. His classes are a hoot-although once you been to one class, the rest are pretty much the same: take crap, glue it together. Paint it. Your done. *smile*

I'll be gone till Friday. Which means four more shifts untill the north woods. Al is comming over to help me pack on Monday night (prior to leaving for Valley Ridge), and I still have plenty of crap to do before the gathering. Havn't decided 100% if I am going to try ot get out of town on WED or wait till Thrus. The sooner I leave, the beter I'll be... however I wouldn't mind having a travel companion to assist in the journey....

The family is trying to figure out the Christmess-mess, as to when to "get together". I have Christmas off this year, and DAMN IT, if I am going to switch and work Christmas again. FUCK that shit. There is a homo-alono for Christmass-o, dinner at a church basement that has my name written all over it.

Incredible adventures in YOGA

2008-07-18T05:48:46Z

I went to Barefoot Yoga Center at 5:45 A.M.
I left at 6:19 A.M. Dawn never showed.

In her defense, it may of been a day prev. schedueled that was canceled. Either which way, it hasn't been the first.

I dont' get into "A" yoga studio, as often as I would like.

Tonight I went to 90 minute Yoga at the gym, to discover that instead of Stephanie, their was a sub. Lovely. Also TONY was in the house, with about 6 other women.

Tony is this built like a shit brick house, dark complected tattoo'd guy, who is addicted to Yoga as much as I am. Havn't quite figured him out, and I'm sure he has a small history. At any rate, he is good eye candy.

What I liked most about the teacher today, was her constant praise and observation to the class. Obviously Tony and I, are the most flexable and the most experience. I wouldn't say the best, because Yoga is a personal journey with no destination.

She commented that my poses were beutiful, and that my pants were a hinderance.

MUST concider just wearing bike shorts to class and be fucking done with it. Fuck the gym dress code.

Building a Bridge

2008-07-17T11:49:50Z

When the I-35 bridge collapsed, a friend who lives 1,000's of miles away, knew that I wasn't on it.

At camping, Marge asked about Kara. The last time any commuication was transpired it was over an email, in 2004. The last time I physically saw her, was at my brothers wedding reception. She was snogging her future husband.

Al came over last night. Discussion was held regarding making amens. Healing. A common topic of conversation when we convene.

He talked through meditation, that I need to invite those who I havn't made my peace with, on a metaphysical bridge, and hold a conversation. In some cases, I will need to take these people on the boat, and leave them on an island.

In October of last year, I ran away from home. Ran away from home to schlep garbage a mile into a dumbster via garbage bags and wheel barrows. I saw Allan, in a red shirt, and kahki's capri's. He appeared out of no-where.

And I said Hello.

Vacation all I ever wanted...Vacation all I ever needed

2008-07-16T11:11:55Z

The prelim scheduel at work came out....

I am going to be a the Radical Faerie Festival from July 29th...to AUG 11th BITCHES.

I. Think. I. Just. Came.

Notes from an invinsible summer

2008-07-14T20:14:42Z

I'm in recovery.

I wrote this in my hand-written journal, during camping on Saturday night.

2007 was a year that I started to take the next step in self-actualization-with everything that occured, and their was plenty.

Admittance is the first step.

I admit, I took on a little bit more than I can chew over the course of the "summer". Mixed with this self-discovery journey I am on, my mind is racing with thoughts at the speed of light.

This is good for me. I'm airing out and dealing with my past, and settleing some "demons" to rest.

2008 is recovery from 2007. Recovery. Return. Explore.

Rio camping marked the 1/2 way point for me. The conclusion of this is of course the Radikal Faerie gathering that takes place in AUG. I can't not wait. The message board is starting to liven up with posts, and plans are being made.

I've started to pack.

Because I want to take some meditation items: old journals, artwork, my drums, and some bizzare kick ass costumes.

Because I'm going to relax, and meditate, and enjoy this, all of this, the invinsible summer.

It would be very nice to have meaningful conversations with Salamader (who is a priest in his mudane life), and redwing, Eureka, and of course Lark, and Tall-grass.

The goal is JUST to get to the gathering, and let it all loose. Revert to the cool earth.

BECAUSE, it will be ONE YEAR, that the mountain I composed in song, in my head, in words, came crashing (my perception).

And i've done this before.

It is making peace with my past.

It is surrounding yourself by comfort, my familiarity, by a group of unique individuals who contain wisdome and truth.

It feels like home.

Same time, Same place... next year

2008-07-14T04:30:28Z

Back in the day, my mother was quite the "party animal".

For the last 26 years, her college roomates, friends and families have gathered the weekend after the 4th of July, in a semi-decent campground in central Wisconsin.

This past weekend, was "Rio" weekend. Rio, named after the closest uncivilized town (they lack a wal-mart), population 984.

Every year, I look forward to it. People who have known me for years, always recall the sacred RIO weekend. NOTHING interfers with RIO.

Over the years, the campground has updated the restrooms, added more inflatable devices in the man-made lake, and hired a rent-a-cop who patrols the sites.

Over the years, we have lost members, recruited others, gotten older, and yet each year we convine to meet again to share battle stories, laugh, drink and eat. The last two are most important.

This year the goal was to drink the supply of beer in one night-Friday night. Although we failed miserably seeing your 63 year old mother-drunk, gives me the giggles. Lack of sleep, alchohol, and a headache found yours truely puking five times out of the front of his tent during a thunderstorm. Classy bitch, I'm telling you.

The weekend was an exercise in the prodigal "son", confronting gossip, and of return.

The prodigal son-because two early campers, returned: my sister, and 33 year old Brian. My sister camped ONCE, when she was little, and I have a feeling her lack of a desire to taste "granola" lifestyle, mixed with teen-angst contributed to her willingness to camp again. She came with Rutabega-

Brain, who I don't recall from early camping, was swoon over, and treated like royality. The 33 year old Brian is a nerdy computer consultant, with a book-smart girlfriend, and he is FUCKING GORG! I quite didn't understand the pomp and stance, however being that he was fucking hot, I was over him like white-on-rice. Can I get an AMEN?

The ladies like to gossip, about other campers. Mainly of Greg, who is my age, married, and has 11 children. YES, you heard me correct, ELEVEN, children, from ages 10-new born. After talking to his wife, I realise how they work as a family, communal living, and how much the Catholic faith plays a roll in their lives. ALthough I may not agree 100% with what they believe in, or actions they partake, I repect them for the choices that they have made-and find them interesting.

2008 has been a recovery period for me. Recovering from 2007. Slugging through this year, and being places that are routine (as I did them last year), keeps me REAL GROUNDED, REAL QUICK.

I like the routine.

I appreciated being out in the mosquito laded field, watching the moon illuminate the grass talking to Steph.

I appreciated Marg, asking where was Kara, and honestly stating that I didn't know, and it is a touchy subject.

As the group slowly dwindeled this morning, leaving one by one-
As I said during the goodbyes...

I reminded them....

Same time-Same Place.....

Next year.

Everything that is old, is new again....

2008-07-11T13:02:58Z

Despite all the bitching, complaining about our careers as nurses, thier is an inert nature, or calling to administer unrelented, offten under appreciated care. As archaic as that seems, we, as healthcare providers can't deny this notion.

For those playing at home, my three day stretch on the neurosurgical ward wasn't the best of of days. This accumulated on Wedneday morning with the death of my patient.

Another one of my five, was a 20 year old spinal cord injury who fell asleep at the wheel and woke up in a ditch at 7:00 a.m. A cute, intuitive, anoying guy-who had just about severed my last nerve. I had to laugh, he was comfortable enough with me to ask when he would be able to have a "boner". I told him it would take time-I didn't have the strength, nor was in the place to tell him, that voluntary erections probably wouldn't be possible.

During all of this, nurse manager lady knocked on the door and wanted to see me.

About a month ago I took care of a 21 y.o. female patient who started to freak out on me at 1:00 am. and continued to 7:00 a.m. I stayed an extra 1/2 hour after my shift, to take care of the situation and discharge her. The situation, which I simplified, bothered me. The staff M.D.'s bed side manor was golden, and I appreciated everyones team effort on this case......

My nurse manager wanted to see me, because said M.D. Dr. A, wanted to give me an award. He also gave me a copy of the memo he sent to my nurse manager.

This, is EXACTLY what I needed to hear.

I'm off for the next 3 days camping with my mother. A well deserved break. A copy of the memo is behind the cut.

Dear M. (nurse manager on 9mb)

Kevin M recently took care of a patient of mine, Ms. xxx and was remarkable in his care rendered to this difficult patient. I cannot over-emphasize how much time he spent with her given her known anxiety disorder and ongoing somatic complaints. As the patient and her family also heavildy laden him with accolades, I do as well. This note is simple to apprise you of his caring nature regarding Ms. xxx and her recent stay after transphenoidal surgery on 9 Mary Brigh.

Dr. A.

Voice Post

2008-07-10T21:11:47Z

Field of Daisy's

2008-07-10T10:16:16Z

My 32 y.o. mva lasted till 1:50 a.m.

He was on a 14mg per hour drip of morphine with prn ativan. His mother wanted him to be comfortable, and this goal was achieved.

His fiance was in the room. Or ex-fiance' stated that she told him he was in a field of daisy's, and he just stoped breathing.

Funny thing: I figure he would last through my shift-at least.

His mother was relax and calm/collective. she said that his work was done here, and he went on to be an angel. Her description that he has left, and that he was no longer in the room, except for his "shell" was absolutely beutiful.

Suppose some of us has more work than others to complete.

And I'm still awaiting for the funeral home to pick up this shell...

The fun doesn't end---it just gets extended.

2008-07-10T02:03:58Z

32 MVA positive for ETOH, on comfort care, with 14mg of Mso4 per hour.

AND

24 y.o. nerve surgery post op. All at 1900 when I just walked in from yoga.

BRING IT ON BITCHES...

...and fucking me gently with a chain saw.

Tales from the ward

2008-07-09T13:51:13Z

It is a fucking pediatric convolecent home up on my nursing unit. The average age is 30-compared to our usual average age of 75.

There must of been a K-mart blue light special on MVA's and stupidity lately.

As a rule, I don't mind these patients. Plus, all of them happen to be male. Its just..... sometimes one has to lay the smack down.

I ~~yelled~~ raised my firm and direct voice to a patient.

"Look-I'm not fighting with you tonight. Take your pills, this is what they are for. If it doesn't get better in 20 minutes, I'll call BACK the doctor and get something else". Actually at this point, I would of given him 25 of benadryl,and try to snow the fucker.

I can, and will put up with alot of shit. Sure, I'm hypersensitive, and will bitch about things that I can't change, but pretty much (and you can disagree here), am very laid back and mellow.

I will put up with some shit from older people. To a point. I get it-the whole hirearchy of things--blah blah blah.

But from some stable 24 year old motherfucker who doesn't have a leg to stand on (no pun intended)

FUCK. NO.

I realised that is what has pissed me off. The twenty year old co-workers that i work with. They drive me fucking crazy. And I dealt with an average of 3 of them last night. I was being surounded by a ward full of 24 year olds... and the attitude, and bullshit was pretty high.

But I degress.......

I documented my ass into the next century on the pts ass. It bothered me at first....yelling at a patient. Not one of my more finer/gracefull moments. Something I'm NOT proud of.

It wasn't untill this morning, that I knew-I'm a fucking damn good nurse:

I took the time to give a partial sponge bath on a 24 trached, peg, head trauma comotose male.
I took the time to give him to wash his hair-comb it, and "spruse him up" for the day.
I talked to him, as if he was answering me-when lets face it-he's not going to period.
I made damn sure the stack of catholic medalians were pinned to his gown.
I voiced my concerns when the resident came around-knowing fair well the paitents mother, wouldn't.

And his mother who is a farmers wife in Iowa said I reminder her of a set of twins she knows... and as I left the room, I heard her say: "You look so wonderful today, Patrick".