nurses

There are a lot of details of my life that probably don't occur to you, should you ever care. One is that I have nurses come into my home every day.

One aspect of this is that my house is a small rancher occupied by 4 long-haired people, three cats and a big dog. There's hair everywhere, all the time. Duane and I work full-time, so there's laundry baskets, a sink full of dishes and non-perishables still in shopping bags on the table at all times. My desk is full of mail and notebooks and date books and memos. My living room is full of stuffed animals, markers, kids books and dog hair. My bathroom gets a once over every now and then and there's a pile of cat litter outside the litter box. We're a big family in a tiny home, and we live here. And it's embarrassing.

But these nurses come in with smiles and soft voices. They cater to my daughter like she's a princess. They dress her, take care of her medical needs and wipe her. They take her for walks, read to her, talk to her about anything and everything and best of all, dance with her. They make food for her, encourage her to drink and try to make her laugh. They hold her as she seizes, simultaneously hitting the timer on their phones. They make notes and follow her to the bathroom. They change pads. 

One morning I wasn't at my best. Sabra was hitting me a lot recently and it was ripping my heart out. Her nurse saw the tears I was trying to hold back and get under control before I left for work and hugged me. A good, tight, murmuring mom hug. "I'm not just here for her, I'm here for you," she said.

Clearly these women are angels here on Earth. 

Yesterday I was hating having nurses in my home. All because of one who, sweet and caring as she may be, rubbed me the wrong way. She was great with Sabra, but obnoxious in my home. I was also having a very stressful day with other issues. I contacted the agency, let me feelings be known. And then I felt bad about that. I talked to Duane, my mom and a trusted co-worker about it. (Am I just being mean? Am I just over-reacting because of the stress of the day?) And then today's nurse told me, "We're here to take some stress off of you, not to make it worse."

So when did I stop caring about my own opinion and start letting people behave however they want to around me? When did I start making every excuse in the book to allow these kinds of people to work with me? Why can't I just say, "she's a bitch, and she needs to go"? When will I stop doing this to myself?

So there we are, nursing agency. I've had a day to decompress (as much as I can). While she may not be a bitch, she's not a good fit, and she needs to go.

Your mental health matters. The people around you matter. Sure, there are difficult personalities to deal with, but there always comes a point when you have to ask yourself, "Do I really have to deal with this?" 

There's a line. And I'm learning that line should be closer than it is. I've dealt with far too much in the past year to let it slide. I've been traumatized by bad behavior this year. Enough is enough.

Embrace your angels, your tribe. Let the rest go.