Sledding Is Good Medicine

Some days I hate my job.

Those days make me hate people.

Nothing better than having a successful code, and the life you just saved, starts bragging about being a Nazi enthusiast and Aryan Nation bull crap. Makes me proud to have blond hair, blue eyes, and awesome chest compression skills.

I also love to be taken advantage of by addicts. My favorite of the week, was the woman in full hysterics about her terrible abdominal pain. Despite all my internal bells and whistles blowing, I immediately drugged her and gave her the benefit of the doubt. She disappeared 10 minutes later after disconnecting herself from the monitor. When I found her gone, I got super T.O'd, thinking she was out smoking. If your pain is that bad, you shouldn't have the energy to go outside and smoke, nor if given IV narcotics, should you be unmonitored. She reappeared about 20 minutes later with her boyfriend pushing her in a wheel chair, fresh from a smoke break, and a quick jaunt to the cafeteria for the biggest breakfast burrito I have ever seen.

That is probably the best cure for abdominal pain that I know.

I'm not sure why the bull is getting to me today. It is no different than every other shift I have worked. Maybe it was the hairy two hour and 15 minute commute through wicked blinding snow. I love risking my life to help idiots.

Anyways.

When I got home tonight, the weather was warm.......like 30 degrees as opposed to the negative numbers we have been seeing, and although I was tired and hateful towards humanity, the kids talked me into going out into the back yard for a little sledding.

Talk about good medicine.

We scrambled to find snow clothes to fit everybody. The Boyz, passed around what fit and what didn't, and I found the snow pants Daveskins gave me for one of our first Christmas's together. I laughed and said, if they fit, I will join you for some ice cream this evening.

As you can see, they fit. I just couldn't feel anything from my thighs down.

We spent a couple of hours just playing and laughing with each other. I was very calming to be playing safely in my own back yard with my sweet little Hoodlums. It made me feel a little bad for all the wack jobs that don't have anything better to do, or the people to do it with; that make the hospital their home.

I guess I just need to reboot and be grateful that I have such awesome friends and family, and try to be a little less of a be-otch, and maybe act like I am grateful for all that I have.

It's hard sometimes not to feel more like Clark Griswold, "kiss my ass, kiss his ass, kiss your own ass, Happy Hanukkah." And less like Tiny Tim.

But they help bring back the Tiny Tim resolve.

And I am cured.

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