Is blogging like riding a bike? If so then I may be in trouble. You see, I kinda want to get back into the game. The blogging game. I've been benched by the coach for a while (except for a few safe minutes (posting pictures) )and I want more action. But if blogging is like riding a bike this may be rough for a while. Everyone says once you learn to ride a bike you never forget how. I say wrong. Ok- so the basics of balance and pedaling and maybe even braking didn't totally fail me but that is all I am going to give it. Short of avoiding mom and dad holding the bike or training wheels, when I got back on a bike after a long sabbatical it was not like I remembered it.
The here's and there's about why I stopped writing are not really important. The all too typical sob story of time management is only one piece of the pecan pie. Why pecan? Because I fell madly in love with saying pecan pie while living in North Carolina. (ps NC I miss you)
So now I'm nervous. Yes nervous. What if what I have to say is stupid? Bringing the question of why does it matter? I worry that it isn't witty, or profound, or or or. But that kinda of thinking is not helpful, only paralyzing. Trust me, I know, because I find myself floundering in these thoughts and spirals all too often. I am determined to be ok with the fact that no one may impressed by what I have write. I am writing it for my own sake, right? Right? Well, its a work in progress.
I made the determination tonight that I was going to write. I mean when you leave work at 8:15pm and you have to go back at 7:30am it doesn't leave you much time to do much of anything else. During the drive home from the hospital I was thinking about what I wanted to write. (Because I am out of the practice of writing I have discovered that I don't think like I used to. When I wrote more frequently I was more apt to chew on and ponder things that I came across and thought if /how I wanted to write about it. Now my brain is dull- partly why I want to start writing again.) What to write... ?work. I could write about work- there are hundreds of stories I could share- but then I think, what about HIPPA? Then I hear the voices of so many that say- I don't like your stories from work. What? What is not to like about motorcycle accidents, car accidents, stabbings, shootings, people newly paralyzed, dying of multi system organ failure, sepsis, or... OK- maybe work stories in small easy doses. I figure there are generally two ways to approach what I see and do at work. One is with fear, heartbreak and despair. The other is with hope and gratitude for what can be done, what can be saved, and how much I can help people who can't help themselves. There will always be injury, illness, and accident- this is life- that is just what you get.
Today at work I had a great gift. One of my patients said thank you to me and that made a world of difference. When I started she was so weak she literally couldn't even move her eyes. After a month of torturing her and never letting her give up she has come a long way. There are days I swear she thinks I am the meanest person ever- but I am determined she will stand and walk again.
I think I am getting tired because the multiple forks, tangents and thoughts in my mind are slowing down. Work is tiring- end of story. At least my legs don't shake by the end of the work week like they used to in the very beginning. The question is, How long can I do this job? The answer is - not forever. I already have aged my back much faster than I care to think too much about. Perhaps some bodies are better designed for the 70-80 hour week of this kind of work- but I think every week on- how much longer will I last? And trust me, I don't want it to be something giving out on me that leads me to what's next. I have thought a lot about what is next. I haven't liked too many of my answers. Life is challenging- yet comfortable where I am. I leave work at work, the 7 days off is so alluring it is hard to give up, and I make enough money I am satisfied. But I would rather be proactive than have a change forced upon me. As a result I am returning over and over again to the idea of a PHD. Yikes. I'll be honest- I'm scared. Although I am less and less scared about whether or not I could do it. I am scared about losing myself to being a student again. Being poor, student loans(I just paid mine off), and every night in the library just doesn't sing to me- especially with how comfortable things are right now. I really don't want to go back to a night out at the movie being a splurge.
The end goal is to teach. I love teaching and I am fairly good at it- although the little I have taught may not give a good sample of where this degree would take me. Currently I am thinking about Public Health- preventative health. I really want to prevent people from being my current patient. And recently- during my run on Saturday to be specific- I have thought of a potential emphasis- children. I truly believe the key is to establish habits and create health patterns in childhood. It is so hard to change midstream. I also think children have the potential to inspire their parents to improve their health behavior.
Okay- if you have made it so far into this blog there are only a few options as to why or how.
A) You hoped I would actually end up with something worthwhile at the end (sorry but this is as good as it gets today. Its like the 2 hours you will never get back from a movie you were hoping to find some purpose or justification for watching.
B) Guilt or Fear- your family or close to it and you for some reason thought not reading this would come back to bite you someday. Well- I can't say I don't bite, but rest assured, not over this post.
C) Totally bored
D) Unsolved mystery
In the end I realize the only one I am writing for is me. I need to write. And if that means a stream of unrelated topics to ease the circles in my mind then ok- a stream it is. I do plan on writing more- and as I write more I will put a few more meaningful thoughts together. There is one topic in particular I am wanting to write a little about. The second topic- well that needs to wait awhile to protect the seemingly innocent(me). Oh, but that is a good story. ;)
My bed is calling me and I am quite ready to fall into the lure of its siren. Good night and God bless.