Raise your hand if you hate moving
I feel like I've been packing for months. I'm finally done and the movers are coming tomorrow... apparently, no idea what time yet, but that's the word. I'm only up still so I can have a beer and wind down a bit. I was so stressed out and anxious today that my left eye kept intermittently twitching. My dad is here, which is excellent in general, but I'm not used to doing the packing thing with other people around. His attempts to be helpful just make me more annoyed because it may go against the plans in my head. Anyway, if my stuff leaves tomorrow, we'll leave Thursday or Friday. I just want to get out of here.
I worked my last shifts this weekend, Saturday and Sunday nights, with a really wonderful group of nurses. It feels awful to be leaving; I love that place so much. They did a little party deal last Monday with pizza, cake and whatnot. They gave me a Hopkins sweatshirt and a card that makes me cry every time I read what everyone wrote. It never ceases to surprise me how much it seems I will be missed. Other folks have left in the time I've been there but it never felt like much was made of it. I guess they like me there.
Quick story. On my second-to-last night, my friend Alison and I went into tag-team bathe (the best way to do it!) one of my patients. This guy has been here for ages, came to the hospital back in March and to us probably six weeks ago. I admitted him and have taken care of him a lot since then. He is from Mexico, speaks only a few words of English, and is one of my favorite patients. The other nurse, Alison, and I apparently look a lot alike. People have been saying it since the first day I started. There's a definite similarity and people confuse us all the time. This patient's wife calls Alison by my name, so we joked about how we were blowing our cover by going in there together. He looked back and forth at us, slightly perplexed.
"Hermanas?" Realizing that he thought we were sisters, we chuckled and said no.
"Amigas?" he said with a big smile.
"Si, señor, amigas." (the next night another one of my patients also asked if we were sisters...)
As a note, I am so digging the new Mraz album. It has been my companion through the true packing insanity of the last week.
I worked my last shifts this weekend, Saturday and Sunday nights, with a really wonderful group of nurses. It feels awful to be leaving; I love that place so much. They did a little party deal last Monday with pizza, cake and whatnot. They gave me a Hopkins sweatshirt and a card that makes me cry every time I read what everyone wrote. It never ceases to surprise me how much it seems I will be missed. Other folks have left in the time I've been there but it never felt like much was made of it. I guess they like me there.
Quick story. On my second-to-last night, my friend Alison and I went into tag-team bathe (the best way to do it!) one of my patients. This guy has been here for ages, came to the hospital back in March and to us probably six weeks ago. I admitted him and have taken care of him a lot since then. He is from Mexico, speaks only a few words of English, and is one of my favorite patients. The other nurse, Alison, and I apparently look a lot alike. People have been saying it since the first day I started. There's a definite similarity and people confuse us all the time. This patient's wife calls Alison by my name, so we joked about how we were blowing our cover by going in there together. He looked back and forth at us, slightly perplexed.
"Hermanas?" Realizing that he thought we were sisters, we chuckled and said no.
"Amigas?" he said with a big smile.
"Si, señor, amigas." (the next night another one of my patients also asked if we were sisters...)
As a note, I am so digging the new Mraz album. It has been my companion through the true packing insanity of the last week.