I'm shocked that it's been six months, almost to the day, since I've written. I wonder if writing through the last six months would have changed anything - honed the focus, so to speak. It's not likely.
I've been caught in the undertow, swimming along, knowing that to fight would be futile. My life has completely changed in the last half-year. I wonder if I should write about it now literally, or if I should just pick up where I left off and hope that the pieces fall into place as I go. To tell the story in its entirety is out of the question, it would take far too long and leave far too much to recollection - which is at best vague and faulty.
But where then to begin? More importantly, how? Where I left off? Perhaps. We shall see...
I've never made it a secret that my job largely defined me. I love being a nurse, in the heart of surgeries, digging deep. It was also pretty apparent to me that my job was beginning to take a toll, and that became more clear after I purchased my home. The drive to work was tolerable enough - 30 minutes, but the drive home was interminable - at best an hour in stop-and-go traffic, and hour of my life wasted, never to be retrieved. Each day in the car underlined what I already knew - while I adored my coworkers and surgeons, adored my under-served patient population, the drive was an unbelievable time waster and, being prone to road-rage, made me insane. I had to make a change and I had to do that quickly.
I took a job in a new, struggling hospital very close to home. The facility is beautiful, but the reputation was horrible. Yes, I was bored. I felt contempt for my healthy patients, contempt for my coworkers who had no idea what real surgery was, contempt for the surgeons that did pissy little surgeries on these healthy patients and loathed my ignorant boss. None of that mattered - it was a few bucks an hour more, I was close to home and close to my children, and I knew it would be the sort of job I'd be able to leave at home.
I started on a Monday. By Thursday, I was Charge Nurse. Two weeks later, the Director was escorted out of the building and I assumed the role - not because I wanted it, per se, but because someone had to do it and the pinheads I was working with were certainly not up to the task.
I had no idea what I had signed up for. My phone became my lifeline. I had to increase my cell phone minutes to a disgusting number, and it rang non-stop. Employees calling in sick, texting me just to whine, officials calling for information - it just never stopped. Still, part of me whined and a part of me loved the responsibility, the power, the ability to turn this bum-fuck hospital into something worthwhile.
I made huge, sweeping changes immediately. I fired people, I reorganized the structure of the operating rooms and the scheduling, I hired new people my bosses were watching. When I started, we had maybe three surgeries a day. Today, we are averaging twenty. It's awe-inspiring.
My new title became official last Monday, and it's a complete life- and game-changer for me. My salary increased dramatically. I'm going to amazing parties in amazing environments. I'm recruiting new physicians daily, hiring new people to keep up with the volume and generally and genuinely LOVING it. Now, it's taking a toll. I'm exhausted. My personal life is (almost) non-existent. I hung pictures of my children in my office and that is where I see the most of them. But it is all for the greater good.
Some days, I miss the simplicity. I miss actually being in the OR. But for the most part, I see this as an opportunity to create something from nothing - to build a future for the hospital, for me and for my children in a way that was merely a pipe-dream six months ago.
It's awesome really.
I love this house. In six months, I've been to San Diego, South Beach, and Aspen (those were all personal trips). I've gotten two promotions and two significant salary increases. I'll be going to Nashville and San Francisco in the next three months for work. I've made friends, I've made enemies. I've formulated new goals and accomplished some. I've made larger goals and look forward to those. My children love their new houses, their new schools and their new friends. I miss downtown. I miss old friends that are largely lost. I miss old stomping grounds that are hard to get to now.
So while all this change and time has created new challenges, I know that these challenges will be short-lived. I guess that it will take a solid six months to adapt to all the change and to feel less isolated out here, but after that, I've lucked into a situation that will change my life, and my children's lives, forever.
To that end, I finally managed to get internet access at home, which means that the missives can now continue. And to have the time to sit on my lovely back porch, in my lovely home (which is no longer the financial burden I feared it would be), is tremendous.
