Le massive info dump.
So, it's 1:30 in the morning and I can't sleep. Insomnia and I are old buddies. Haven't found anything OTC yet that can't break us up. Might as well update LJ, I said to myself. (Better decision than the chili chips. Totally covered my salt food group for the day.)
If anyone is still reading, here's what's been happening...
I started my new job in August, and about two weeks in, my dad had a heart attack. By the time the EMTs got him to the ER he had stopped breathing and there was barely any heart activity. That was the beginning of two weeks of ventilators (he hates those), specialists, ICUs, advanced directives (basically, what his wishes are if he starts dying), two different hospitals, one rehab and back to the ER again. Very touch and go. He's home now, recovering. Originally, he was being sent home in part to recoup to have open heart surgery... that idea has been put in a holding pattern due to the severity of his lung disease (end stage COPD/emphysema) and the amount of damage done to his heart. It will be his decision, ultimately. But for now, his spirits are pretty good and most days he seems stronger than before the incident.
Gran continues to be sick. I don't even know what to say to do it justice. She is, bar none, the toughest, strongest person I've ever known. All of her illnesses, in constant awful pain, and allergic to every pain reliever ever given her. I think the gastroparesis has been the curve ball; it was the late comer to the party and it has the added psychological aspect of taking away any joy to be found in eating, because she can't.
Like I said, toughest. I'm damn proud to say that's the woman who raised me.
To round out the family maladies, our teenaged German Shep is winding down. Shepherd hip is starting to get to him, and it wasn't really a problem before the last vet visit (where she gave him a local that left his hind legs paralyzed for two days. Being told that was normal was not comforting.). He's started doing naughty things in the house that he almost never did before; he'll even look right at me, at the open door to go outside, and trot straight to the dining room to mark. He's changed mentally. None of us want to think of having to help him cross, but if suffering begins, we'll do what we have to.
That's most of the heavy, depressing stuff... shall we move on to something lighter?
The job is going great. I'm told I picked up in two weeks what takes most people two months. I still have tons to learn and a whole new area of my dept to begin training in, but I'm excited. The team is great, the work is interesting. I was brought in with the hope that I could be trained to take over for a dept head who has plans to retire (she is awesome, btw). This was unknown to me at the time, as the supervisor is an old family friend who had invited me on (as an entry level grunt) when he found out that I was leaving my primary job.
... and no one told me about this plan for the first two weeks, so I had no idea I was being tapped for leadership at an electronics company that does business on five continents.
Yeah, I can't wrap my brain around that one, either.
That kind of position is quite a way down the road, of course. I have to earn that. I've been blessed with this opportunity, and I'll work very hard for this.
You know, this entry was originally going to be about my dad's labs this morning. I took him to the in-house lab where he goes for primary care, and it took two techs three or four attempts to even find a vein. They wound up having to use a butterfly on his hand. He's desensitized to the whole process, but it still squicks me. I can't believe I ever wanted to be a phlebotomist. What was I thinking? I also wanted to be a forensic nurse until I realized, maggots. A dozen, I can handle. A writhing mass... let's say my lunch is going to compromise a crime scene. There's always forensic anthropology. Thank goodness for armchair studying. :)
If anyone is still reading, here's what's been happening...
I started my new job in August, and about two weeks in, my dad had a heart attack. By the time the EMTs got him to the ER he had stopped breathing and there was barely any heart activity. That was the beginning of two weeks of ventilators (he hates those), specialists, ICUs, advanced directives (basically, what his wishes are if he starts dying), two different hospitals, one rehab and back to the ER again. Very touch and go. He's home now, recovering. Originally, he was being sent home in part to recoup to have open heart surgery... that idea has been put in a holding pattern due to the severity of his lung disease (end stage COPD/emphysema) and the amount of damage done to his heart. It will be his decision, ultimately. But for now, his spirits are pretty good and most days he seems stronger than before the incident.
Gran continues to be sick. I don't even know what to say to do it justice. She is, bar none, the toughest, strongest person I've ever known. All of her illnesses, in constant awful pain, and allergic to every pain reliever ever given her. I think the gastroparesis has been the curve ball; it was the late comer to the party and it has the added psychological aspect of taking away any joy to be found in eating, because she can't.
Like I said, toughest. I'm damn proud to say that's the woman who raised me.
To round out the family maladies, our teenaged German Shep is winding down. Shepherd hip is starting to get to him, and it wasn't really a problem before the last vet visit (where she gave him a local that left his hind legs paralyzed for two days. Being told that was normal was not comforting.). He's started doing naughty things in the house that he almost never did before; he'll even look right at me, at the open door to go outside, and trot straight to the dining room to mark. He's changed mentally. None of us want to think of having to help him cross, but if suffering begins, we'll do what we have to.
That's most of the heavy, depressing stuff... shall we move on to something lighter?
The job is going great. I'm told I picked up in two weeks what takes most people two months. I still have tons to learn and a whole new area of my dept to begin training in, but I'm excited. The team is great, the work is interesting. I was brought in with the hope that I could be trained to take over for a dept head who has plans to retire (she is awesome, btw). This was unknown to me at the time, as the supervisor is an old family friend who had invited me on (as an entry level grunt) when he found out that I was leaving my primary job.
... and no one told me about this plan for the first two weeks, so I had no idea I was being tapped for leadership at an electronics company that does business on five continents.
Yeah, I can't wrap my brain around that one, either.
That kind of position is quite a way down the road, of course. I have to earn that. I've been blessed with this opportunity, and I'll work very hard for this.
You know, this entry was originally going to be about my dad's labs this morning. I took him to the in-house lab where he goes for primary care, and it took two techs three or four attempts to even find a vein. They wound up having to use a butterfly on his hand. He's desensitized to the whole process, but it still squicks me. I can't believe I ever wanted to be a phlebotomist. What was I thinking? I also wanted to be a forensic nurse until I realized, maggots. A dozen, I can handle. A writhing mass... let's say my lunch is going to compromise a crime scene. There's always forensic anthropology. Thank goodness for armchair studying. :)