"You'd be happy wrapped in my apron strings"
Hubby and I were listening to NPR this afternoon when we heard this older couple telling the story about how their piano duet ended up on You.Tube …
They were such an adorable and loving couple that I had to look up the video the minute we got home.
All I have to say is that I hope that Hubby & I are just as active and as happy and as youthful as these two are when we grow up …
So I’ve been in the workforce for … well, what seems like forever. Seriously. I started babysitting at the age of 12 years old and spent many a summers watching over the younger neighborhood kids. Or the kids of my parents’ friends
And then at the age of 16, I got my first “official” job as a burger-slinger at the local fast food establishment. (Think of the recent “King-On” commercials on TV. Yeah, it was that restauraunt …) I had a manager who was the spittin’ image of Tim Curry and thought that all Asian girls looked like Conn.ie Chung. He also had a habit of sticking any non-Caucasian employee in the back either making the sandwiches or washing dishes. Amongst other nasty comments he made, the naive person in me took a few years to I recognize what a bigot this man was. So yeah, I lasted about 3 months on that job.
The next summer I managed to land a job at the local mall working at a music store. No, it wasn’t an independent record store … although I always wished I could have worked at one. Yes, it was one of those retail chain stores that sold mostly Top 40 crap. But the job had its perks, which included a decent discount, first dibs on any “alternative” stuff that managed to come into the store, and a crap load of freebies that the label reps would hand out any time they came into the store. Oh … and we also got a lot of “heads up” on tour dates and album releases before the general public new. Of course pre-internet … that was a pretty d*mn cool perk. It was definitely a fun job to have, and the people that I worked with and interacted with on a daily basis definitely made the mundane more interesting.
I managed to keep the music store job for the next three years; lasting through the summer after my first year in college. And, if you can believe it … I also managed to hold a second job at one of the department stores within the same mall. That one wasn’t as fun, as I managed to get stuck in the men’s clothing department. However, to this day I know exactly how to fold a man’s dress shirt back into the original packaging it may have come in. Ain’t it amazing how we retain the stupidest things?
I finally quit both retail jobs after my first year in Nursing school. And that’s because I managed to get my first job in a hospital as a Nursing Assistant. Which turned in to a Nurse Technician position another year later. Which eventually turned into my first post-college job. Of course, I moved over to the bigger “sister” hospital at that time. Which meant more interesting patients and definitely more Residents (“Doctors-In-Training” … not to be confused with Med School students). Those first couple years post-graduation in my first job had to be one of the most exciting times of my career. Lots of new things to learn, lots of interesting co-worker dynamics, etc.
After about two years, the “glamour” and excitement of working on “the floors” started to wear down on me. Things suddenly became routine. And since by then I was married, working the afternoon shift and every other weekend grated on me because, as a newlywed, I just wanted to spend time with my Hubby. It’s about that time when I started to feel the “burn out” of working on the floors. And looking back now, I have a feeling that the reason I was burning out was more because of the way our unit was being managed* and not by the people I worked with or the actual work I was responsible.
In any case, my “break” literally came when I injured my back on the job. How, may you ask, did that happen? Well, it’s not that a patient fell on me … rather it was me that fell on a patient. Yep. As a fellow RN and I were lifting a patient who slipped off of her chair onto the floor, this patient began to lose her balance. Now … in Nursing School, you’re taught to “ease” a patient that is falling down onto the floor. In otherwords, you don’t let go of the patient; you guide them slowly onto a chair or back down on the floor. Well … while I attempted to “ease” this patient onto the floor, my fellow RN decided to just let the patient go.
And down the patient went. With me right on top of her shortly afterwards. And … ouch, what was that sharp pain I felt in my lower back?
I happened to be off that weekend and when I couldn’t sleep comfortably for the next two days, I decided it was time to fill out paperwork. So after a couple of Employee Health appointments and an MRI to my lower back, I found out I had a herniated disk. And despite the months of physical therapy and cortisone shots (which, by the way, I think may have been one of the reasons for my IF issues … ), the pain to my back and it’s associated numbness and tingling down my left leg persisted. So that’s when I decided to have surgery to correct the herniated disk. (What can I say? I was only 25 at the time and I didn’t want to be in pain for the rest of my life!)
And that’s when I met my disability RN Case Manager for the first time. She’s the one who showed me that there were other areas of Nursing that I could get in to with my degree. So armed with that information, when I returned to work I was lucky enough to have a fellow RN who was doing Case Management for the hospital I worked for. She’s the one that got me my first position in Case Management and I haven’t turned back to floor nursing since.
So I guess you can say that I literally “fell” into Case Management. Ha!
Okay, so that long diatribe wasn’t what I was getting at when I first started this post. What I’m really getting at is that since I was a young’in I worked. And once I graduated from college and joined the career workforce, I’ve worked. Full time, mind you. The only time I ever took a break between jobs (besides when I went for my back surgery) was when I left the hospital to work for a health insurance company. And even then, it was less than a week. And when I left that job to come here to Chicago, I took absolutely no time off in between.
Oh sure, I’ve had time off during the year. I mean, we Full-Time folk do accrue vacation time that we are entitled to. And trust me, Hubby & I make it a point to take a vacation because that’s a priority for us in life. I mean really, it’s our time to recharge our batteries and refuel our energy so that we can delve headfirst into our careers with new purpose. We need that time because, unlike others that have different priorities than us, our childless (or child-free, still deciding) life consists of little more than our careers.
Okay, so I’m overexagerating here (or as Hubby says I’m “V.H.1 Storytelling”). I mean, I wouldn’t be writing / blogging and Hubby wouldn’t be sketching if I didn’t do anything more than wake up and go to work every day. But I think you readers may get the point.
It’s been just over five months since I moved to Chicago and started this new job, without taking more than 2 days off (strictly for the NYE holiday) inbetween. And before that, it’s been since July last year that Hubby & I have taken any sort of vacation together. Needless to say, I’m ripe for some time off.
H*ll. I don’t even care if it’s a Stay-cation. I don’t care if I don’t do more than read, write or blog for a week. I just want to have the time dedicated to ourselves. To be together. To fully relish in the big move that the two of us made together. To explore our new local surroundings. (Hmm … I guess you could call that a “Play-cation” then. Not to be confused with “placate” though … ) All without the pressure to keep working. To make deadlines. To set new goals. To maintain the current goals.
Seriously, I’d be happy to just be in bed with Hubby, imagining we’re back in Hawaii lying in a hammock on the beach at sunset. Perhaps we can bring in some fake plastic trees, too.
As it is, the next long weekend we have planned will be Memorial Day. (But then, is it a vacation if the rest of your company is off too?!) And the next one would be Independence Day … which is followed closely by my birthday that following Monday. And d*mn it … you know I’ll be taking that day off. I mean, I’ll at least have accrued one or two vacation days by then …
I mean if I can’t take time off to find a new career path or even take time off to take my imaginary kids to a fun vacation spot during their imaginary summer vacation … let alone to take a maternity leave for that imaginary pregnancy, too … I should be entitiled to have my own birthday off. Don’t you think?
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* I know that now, only because being in a leadership position … I know that a person never leaves a job because of the people or because of the actual work. Nope. In my experience, most people that go willingly on to “greener pastures” (or maybe not so “greener” …) leave because of who they report to.
“Two Dollars! I want my two dollars!”
I love that movie. “Better Off Dead” is one of those classic John Cusa.ck films from the ‘80’s that remind me of many-a-slumber parties. (You know, back when the other girls were fixing their hair and putting on make-up while I sat in my sleeping bag clearly just watching rental video after rental video …) I loved the Asian guys that pretended to be that sportscaster from Wide World O’Sports (hey, it’s St. Paddy’s Day … gotta get my O’ on. 🙂 ). And I love how Lane’s mom tried to cook her “Fraunch” dinner for the cute little exchange student that Lane should have noticed much sooner. Oh, and I loved the fact that they used a little Howa.rd Jo.nes on their soundtrack as well.
In any case, my mind sometimes (oh, who am I kidding … always) works in strange “tangential thinking” ways. I started off by thinking, “Two Years, Wow!” and obviously ended up thinking of a newspaper boy on a bike trying to collect his money.
G*d … does anyone else remember the days of neighborhood kids being the newspaper deliverer and collector of payments?! Now it’s always an adult that pulls up in a car … chucks the paper out their car window where one hopes it lands on the doorstep … and then it’s the newspaper that actually hounds you by phone for their twenty dollars or more.
Oh geez … see what I mean? Tangential thinking.
See the whole point of this post was to reflect how it’s been two years today since I started this blog. And what started out as wanting to express something in a journal entry somehow ended up here in the blogiverse.
I remember clearly sitting in a café in A2 while Hubby and his BIL (my SIL’s Hubby of less than a year at the time) went off to do their comic/gaming thing. I was still struggling with the news of my SIL’s pregnancy and found myself slowly losing grip on my sanity. I knew, after a few months of counseling, that I had to find a way to deal with all these repressed emotions. Except besides this counselor and my husband, I didn’t know anyone else I could talk to about these feelings of anger and jealousy … and the subsequent guilt that always seemed to follow those emotions.
I felt that somehow no one else could understand what I was going through. I believed that everyone I had previously talked to about these things thought I was nuts to be “obsessing” about how unfair it was that I couldn’t produce a child. And I remember thinking how it seemed as if everyone was moving forward in their lives; starting their families, achieving new milestones, etc … all while Hubby & I remained left behind, unable to move forward.
It didn’t help that March was an anniversary month for Hubby and me. It would be the month that so many years ago, we received the news of our one and only failed IVF attempt. And for the life of me, today I can’t even recall the number of years it’s been since then. (What does that say about where I’m at today?!) But two years ago, those emotions … that feeling of lost was still as deep and painful as it was when we first received that devastating news.
In a single sentence … two years ago today, I was a wreck. And writing about how I felt seemed to be the only way to articulate such complicated emotions. And so hence, Apron Strings for Emily was born.
So where am I at today? Well … writing about my journey has certainly had some impact on my life. Both good and bad … and sometimes just downright ugly.
THE UGLY: My relationship, though better since moving, is still a bit strained with my SIL. The distance has definitely proved to be a good thing though. But this, of course, is at the sacrifice of not being able to see my nephew and my 6 month old niece as often as I’d like. Despite all this, my instincts (which tend to be spot on quite often) tell me that all this heartbreak will eventually pass in time. Perhaps one day our lives will once again be back “in sync” with one another like it was so many eons ago. And perhaps it won’t. But either way, only time will help mend all the broken layers of skin that this deep deep wound (as in “Stage IV Decubitus Ulcer”) has caused.
In any case, we’ll be seeing them next month for sure though … as they make the trip to visit us in our new digs. And I seriously can’t wait!!
THE BAD: Uhm … the obvious one is that Hubby and I are still without kids of our own. This also means that I haven’t been able to provide grandchildren to our parents, nieces or nephews to our siblings, or cousins to our nephew and niece. It still eats at me … at least once a month, during those incredible waves of emotions I get (Thank you, wacky hormones!) …but at least it isn’t every day like it was for years and years (and years and years).
THE GOOD: I’ve found out that, contrary to my psychotic (as opposed to psychic) beliefs, I am not necessarily alone in this infertility journey. I’ve found the incredibly wonderful and much needed support I’ve been looking for … thanks to all of you readers and commenters.
Also, I’ve finally decided (just recently within the past 6 months) that my life no longer has to revolve around my inability to have children of my own and have decided to focus on other parts of my life. This means I can finally move onto deciding whether adoption should be our next step. OR if accepting child-free living is the path to take.
But the best part of this point in my life is this: After years and years of holding all my anger and sadness inside, I’ve finally found my voice … and the medium in which to express this voice. For someone who has been used to (and quite frankly brought up to) stifling any bad feelings aside, well that’s … Just. Simply. Incredible.
And just like a yearly “work performance” eval … not only do I have to summarize all that has happened in the past year … I should also be thinking towards the coming year. SO … what exactly are my goals for the next year?
And finally, before I wrap up this extremely long post, I want to thank all of you for allowing me to work (and continue to work) through all of my concerns. And thank you for faithfully reading all about them.
Because, really? What’s the point of finding my voice if I didn’t have you … my readers, my friends and my family … to listen to (or in this case, read about) it?
Oh, and because today is St. Patty’s Day … I also wish all of you the Luck O’ The Irish!!
I’ve just boarded the train in Ann Arbor heading back to my place in the city. And even though the breathtaking scenery of the Huron River is around me, I am feeling blue. I’ve just said good-bye to Hubby after a fun weekend and – even though we deny it till the very last moment – I am terribly sad. It’s as if these train tracks, the same ones that took me to him on Friday, are pulling me further and further away from him. And I hate it.
I haven’t been writing much over the past week because I’ve been busy. I find the more time I spend apart from writing, the more difficult it is for me to write. And I hate that.
And now, with the two things I’ve admitted to hating out of the way … and with about 4 hours before hitting my final destination … I now find myself having that time to write.
I’ve got my iPod on listening to the (new) INXS* song, “Afterglow.” I love this song, because it’s so beautiful. And it’s a song that I could totally hear Michael Hu.tchence singing, rather than JD “Fortunate-that-he-was-picked” from Rockstar. Sadly, it’s a song that was written by MH’s songwriting partner Andrew Fa.rriss. And perhaps I may be reading into the lyrics too much, but I’ve interpreted it as a song he wrote about dealing with life after Michael’s death. And how he has been trying to “let him go” so that he can move forward with his own life without Michael.
It’s perfect for how I’m feeling right now; having just left Hubby standing on the train platform. Not that I’m “letting him go” or anything. It’s more that I’m feeling like I have to go on living life without Hubby once again … at least for another 5 days until the weekend comes once more. You would think that I might have gotten used to it by now, as it’s been two months now, but it’s still as painful as that first day Hubby drove off down the street of our new “place” and back to our home in Michigan. The only thing that’s holding me together is that the end is now in site. And hopefully by the end of this month, I will finally be able to call this place I’ve been living in for the past two months “home.” Because Hubby will always be home for me.
And suddenly I’ve got that line from “Lilo & Stitch” in my head. “Ohana means Family. And Family means no one get’s left behind.”
*Sigh* ….
So … what to write about now ? Hmm, perhaps I could tell you about all the fun I had at Hubby’s Ad Club Awards show yesterday. You know … the same awards show for which Hubby designed the poster made completely out of Legos (with some assistance from his personal Lego Engineer, of course ). Well, because Legos was such a big thing for most of the “Creatives” (as they call themselves …) back in the early 80’s, the overall theme turned into a whole 80’s night. Well, at least the rest of the items that Hubby designed (the invitations, the programs, banners, etc) had a whole ’80’s feel to it.
To complete the 80’s theme, Hubby and I decided to dress the whole 80’s part. This is where I’d probably insert a picture of Hubby in a white blazer coat, black dress shirt unbuttoned at the top with a black tie loosened around the neck (a la Dur.an Dur.an circa 1981). Or even one where I’m dressed in a 80’s mod dress complete with black stirrup leggings and kitten heel pumps. (I would have done the whole side-ways ponytail, but then my grey hair would have really stood out …) Unfortunately, neither of us remembered to take our cameras with us. So instead, I’ll share this true 80’s picture of me (circa 1985), in a dress that’s quite similar to what I wore. And no … my dress was not the same pattern … (Damn … thought I had it with me on my laptop here. Guess I don’t. I’ll have to scan it next time I’m back in Detroit …)
It’s always a fun night going to these Addy Awards. Being around Creative Folk is pretty darn funny. They usually have some interesting stories to talk about. Most aren’t too stuffy where they can’t take a joke or tell a pretty good one. Typically every year there’s some sort of theme around the awards. I think I already shared with you a picture of Hubby & I as a Ringmaster and Tightrope Walker during the circus-themed one. Then there was the one where everything revolved around solving some sort of crime, a la CSI … except in this case CSI stood for Creative Scene Investigation. And of course there was the whole “Austin Powers” Groovy theme; in which one couple dressed up as Dr. Evil and Vanessa Kensington. That was pretty darn funny!
So the Lego theme this year found the Creatives sitting around tables with various pieces of Lego surrounding the table centerpieces. People were encouraged to play with them, build things with them. If someone from their table won an award, when they came up to accept the award they were instructed to add Lego piece(s) to a Lego board up in the front of the room. The goal was that at the end of the night, everyone would have formed a communal sculpture made out of random Lego pieces. Well … the final piece was definitely a mish-mosh of various random Legos representing, what I overheard someone else call a “funky carnival.” And if I had my camera … this is where I’d share how absolutely imaginative some people got.
But the even more surprising Lego sculptures were found at the end of the night. After the festivities ended and as I went around collecting all the Lego pieces at the tables, I found random pieces of Legos shaped into various animals or house-like structures. I swear, someone even made a ginormous robot that looked like it should have been Optim.us Prime from the Tran.sformers. Really, I shouldn’t have been too surprised … I mean after all, I was supposed to be surrounded by the most creative people in the local industry.
Overall, it was a fun weekend. And because we both were away from our respective living areas (we stayed the weekend in Lansing, MI where the awards show was), it was nice to be in a place where neither of us had to “leave” one another at the end of the weekend. Both of us were going back to our places … albeit alone.
But, thank G*d, not for much longer.
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* I find that I’ve divided INXS into two categories; the old INXS (with Michael Hu.tchence) and the new INXS (sans Michael Hu.tchence).