Sick-fulfilling Prophecy

Dear Diary,

Self-fulfilling prophecy? I may have just experienced one. And it happened rather expeditiously. You see, I was supposed to work three nights in a row from Christmas Eve to the night of the 26th. A co-worker however asked me if I could switch shifts with her. She proposed to work on the 26th and I on the 28th. Now I find switching schedules a nuisance and normally I shun or simply reject all those that seek this form of exchange, but as she had a very valid excuse — her sister’s wedding — I agreed to her plea. I know deep inside I planned on calling in on the 28th, paving a clear path from the 26th through the 2nd of the New Year when I am again to return to work.

Working night shift is tricky. You always need that extra day to pay off your sleep debt and frankly, that amount of time is never enough. Even two days do not suffice, but currently there really is no practical solution to it other than switching to day shift.

A few of my co-workers asked me about my schedule for no apparent reason and in reply, I plainly told them this with a little humor added:

“Yeah, I work on the Eve and Day of Christmas and because I switched schedule with someone, I am back on the 28th. I would’ve had the 27th through the 2nd off, but you know what, I’m going to be sick on the 28th. Yeah dude, I’ll be sick on the 28th.”

I laughed. They laughed, knowing exactly what I had purposed to do.

The 28th came. I called in sick.

Unquestionably sick. ❧


Advertisements

Cooking Again

Shiitake
The soak before the plunge. Shiitake mushrooms.


My second time cooking this year! That’s a record so far. I just used the ingredients I found at home. I know. I could’ve done more like go to the grocery store and buy potatoes, various bell peppers, etc etc, what I felt I would need, but it was raining — and hard. An introvert’s place is not inside a grocery store on rainy days. It is either outside in the rain utterly soaked, or inside the room under the blanket with a book and a cup of tea by the window sill.

Obviously, I chose to be at home. I needed to cook. Plus, with the bad lucks I’ve had had lately, who is to know I won’t get struck by a lightning?!

So here is the final product. So meat-intensive! I can imagine long strips of red and green bell peppers and tender chunks of potatoes in there. That would probably unite the flavors a bit. To finish, I tossed in some walnuts, not for the sake of taste, but rather to justify to myself (and dad) that dinner will not altogether be unhealthy!

Isn’t it a nice photo of the mushrooms? — For the photo enthusiasts who happened to land on this entry.

Cheers!

food
The final result. So meat-intensive!



Entry – Feb 8, 2017

February 8, 2017
Los Angeles, California

Dear Diary,

One of the perks of being an oncology nurse where I work is that you get to give chemo ‘off-ward’, that is, patients not accomodated on our floor needing treatments will have said treatments administered them, wherever they may be, courtesy of a qualified RN. The task is pretty much straightforward: give the doggone chemo, then sit, — this would encompass active monitoring of the patient and timely charting of findings, by the way — wait, and hope nothing happens during the treatment. Standing is only necessary when taking vital signs. However, if the patient happens to be hooked up to a continuous monitoring apparatus, as the case would be in an ICU setting, being on your two feet becomes optional. Well, maybe not entirely as you still need to leave your chair to take temperatures. Continue reading “Entry – Feb 8, 2017”

Entry – Feb 6, 2017

February 6, 2017
Cypress, California

Dear Diary,

It is six in the morning. It is raining. I know that to many, it is not a thing to be desired, not mainly because we had just gone through a small, yet rather potent, storm just over a fortnight ago, but more so because today happens to be Monday. And if Mondays already bear a stain of reproach, — it (and me) wondering why or how — imagine a rainy Monday! Imagine the dread.

Rainy days will always find a harbor in my soul — always. It matters not on which day it chooses to fall. For who can really deny the dulcet symphony it composes as it strums each blade of grass, bows every branch of trees, Continue reading “Entry – Feb 6, 2017”