Near Death

On March 12th I woke up feeling fine. On my way to the gym later in the morning, I noticed my head felt stuffy but shrugged it off. When I got home I couldn't ignore the sick feeling that was rapidly overtaking me. Despite the sense of impending doom (which by the way is a real medical symptom, but is used as hyperbole here), I embraced social opportunity that afternoon with some coworkers. I got home around 7pm (we party hard around here...) and was febrile. So began one of the longer lasting bouts of sickness I've endured in quite some time. A wicked bad sore throat and fever initially made me think strep, but I hate doctors so I decided to wait it out. This suspicion was thwarted by the nasal congestion and ...drainage that ensued a few days later. One of the more exciting parts was not being able to sleep. I never have trouble sleeping so this was problematic. As I would fall asleep I would start to feel like I couldn't breathe! I had mini dreams that I was drowning-- not conducive to peaceful sleep (unless its the eternal sleep and I'm not interested in that). I called in sick to work Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. On Wednesday I had lost my voice COMPLETELY. Talking on the phone is quite a challenge when you can't speak! On Friday afternoon my mom came up to make sure I wasn't actually dying. It was good to have her here both for company and her help. I was hoping by the time she got here I would be well on my way to cured, but that was not the case. I slept a LOT which was needed because the week before had robbed me of precious REM. I resorted to drugging myself with Nyquill. That stuff takes awhile to get out of my system. I was quite the drugged up hostess. Regardless, I enjoyed her visit and am grateful for the proximity that allows such last minute visits. I went to work last night feeling mostly better-- just a lingering cough. The air in the hospital is SO DRY-- so I came home this morning with a sore throat, which often happens after staying up all night at work even if I haven't been sick before hand. I'm trying to kick the Nyquill so I only got about 4 hours of sleep today (still a significant improvement from pre-Nyquill days). I'm supposed to work Wednesday and Thursday night, too, so hopefully I feel a little better then. I used up all of my sick time... and then some. Apparently it accrues like vacation time... the more hours you work the more sick time hours you get. I had accrued 24 (2 shifts), but I definitely called in three. I think that just means I take a no pay for one of them... but I'm not sure. Hope I didn't break any big rules with that one... fact of the matter is I couldn't have worked despite the lack of available sick time. We'll see! So eleven days later, I'm pretty much better... just a sore throat and some obnoxious cough lingering.
I didn't participate in the 5k run I signed up for this weekend, but I did go get the shirt. I'm such a poser. I haven't run in 11 days. I was slowly (...very slowly) making my comeback, so this is a significant setback. I swear, if it's not one thing, it's another.

"Girrrl, you crazy."

After SEVERAL weeks of waiting-- I got the golden email this morning that went a little something like this:

Dear Kristin,

Recently you applied for a day/night rotator position. Good news... of those that applied you have the highest seniority and the position is yours! Please confirm before I proceed and officially fill the position with your name.

The clouds opened up and the angels started singing-- what glorious news! One step closer to normalcy. I am sooo grateful and can't wait to embrace day shift. Even though days are absolute mayhem.. I will endure the chaos with a smile because it will be daytime and I will be awake... like normal people should be. Win.

I don't have anything to write about lately. My right knee has been hurting more than EVER which has been concerning and has made running rather sucky (... lets be honest my lack of cardiovascular endurance hasn't helped much either..).

I had a CRAZY dream last night. I dreamt I was staying at my parents' house but I was doing the Chicago Triathlon (and it was in Salem). For some reason, the morning of the race I jogged to transition. But it wasn't a normal jog it was like I'd take a step and be suspended in mid air for three seconds then I'd land-- I was frustrated with how slow it was (hmm wonder how that reflects to real life... durrr). I was about a mile from my parents house when I realized "I FORGOT MY BIKE!" So I had to turn around and float-jog back (all of this is happening with me in my Team in Training spandex with my giant soccer backpack on-- naturally). So I finally made it back and burst through the door to what seemed like a home improvement store and was bawling but had no tears. I was explaining everything to my mom. By this point it was getting light outside, and its known that if you're not at transition before dawn then the masses of people will slow you down and you're screwed. I had it in my mind that transition closed at 6am and it was already 5:15 and I had to get downtown--dismal. I thought, 'Well I can get there faster if I ride my bike.' Right THEN I remembered that my bike tires were FLAT (which is true in real life because I haven't ridden it in so long..). This made me more upset in my dream because I needed a pump that accommodates a presta valve, and I didn't have one. My mom said something about seeing papers that said transition was open until 8am. So I figured I could load my bike into my car, have my dad go down to transition with me and drop me off so I wouldn't have to worry about parking. Once there I would try to borrow someone's bike pump. In the midst of rallying my troops, there was a voice-over saying something about for the first time ever transition would be open until 8am and that they couldn't predict what challenges this might cause. I was relieved by that but still panicked, I was VERY late. For some reason unbeknownst to me, 'loading up' meant getting a ridiculously large trailer of sorts down from a steep hill that magically appeared to the left of my parents' house/home improvement store. By this time it was pure daylight and it was very warm-- the universe's way of reminding me of my tardiness. I ran to the top of the hill thinking I could get it myself but then I realized how HUGE it was. The neighbors were out in their yard and gave me the "Girrrl, you crazy.." look. I called down for my family (my sister suddenly appeared, too) to help. Then I woke up.
What the heck? Dreams kind of fascinate me but I wish I knew what they meant. Obviously I am concerned about not being prepared for any triathlons. It is no secret that being late is something I passionately despise. Why does my subconscious have to remind me? While I am grateful for the state of modern medical technology that I live in , I wish scientists had a clearer understanding of dreams--- how they form, what they mean, etc. Lately I have been having a lot of lucid dreams, too. I can't decide if it's cool or creepy. It's all probably a result of the ridiculously irregular sleep schedule I'm on. Lose.
There's a tangent for ya. Shoot.

Confession

Confession: while the night shift can be equally as chaotic as day shift, there are also times when it is absolutely mind numbingly boring. Last night to pass the time I read about how terrible working graveyard shift is for one's overall health. It may have been a small private pity party.

Confession: Several months ago I decided to motivate myself by signing up for a half marathon. I gave myself a solid three months to train for a 13.1 mile race on March 20th. HA. I can barely sputter out three miles at a pace oh so slightly faster than walking. I emailed the race people to see if they would switch my registration to the 5k that will also happen that day. They said yes which is nice because now I can wear the t-shirt without being a poser and it's not a complete waste of money. But still, writing that email was mortifying.

Confession: I slept for almost 24 hours straight the other day (and night).

Confession: (this one's a doosey) ...i think i miss chicago... shh, don't tell. Maybe that's not 100% accurate--- I miss that I KNEW PEOPLE there. Starting over is some lonely business, let me tell you. It is gradually getting better, but much slower than I'd like. Then again, it seems as though things in life that take a while to happen are most enduring. So let's hope whatever social life I grow ends up being worth the wait.

I'm applying for a loan repayment program offered by the government. If accepted I have to commit to working at a critically short staffed facility for at least two years. The hospital I'm at qualifies, so no qualms there. Here is my plan: if I get accepted (they took like 700 something last year out of ~10,000 applicants... I'm not holding my breath) then I will definitely stay put for the two years, and depending on everything maybe the third that you can apply for (it takes the 60% repayment of your loans to I think 75%). If I don't get it, I will fulfill a year here and then see if travel nursing is a possibility again. Everyone at work always talks about travel nursing and how they've done it at one point and loved it, or how they can't wait until they get an opportunity to do it. Their excitement is contagious so... we'll see. Not having roots or attachments is awesome in the sense that I can do what I want when I want to do it. That will be the silver lining I cling to.