I didn't post again yesterday because I couldn't bring myself to type something that would replace that entry at the top of my blog. Even today I went back and read my words. I am still SO sad and the tears are SO close to the surface. I'm actually kind of nervous about going back to work tomorrow. I'm afraid that if someone looks at me the wrong way I will start crying! I'm a little glad that my friend with the baby is not here. I know her husband would appreciate some of my time, but there isn't any "expectation" there (not that my friend really NEEDS me, but I have been there...plus, she doesn't need to be dealing with me and my issues right now). I just don't really feel too social (although I am SO grateful for my friend who allowed me to bring my Taco Bell to her house last night for a late dinner, crying, and visiting!) By the way, the baby is back on the ventilator. So much for my idea to light a fire under those in control in the PICU to send him up to the floor (he WAS doing fine and it seemed silly to be "hanging out" in the PICU when his parents could be learning how to take care of him on my floor). Anyway, just another thing for me to "stew about".
I didn't get up until 11:00 this morning. Not really because I was THAT tired, but because I could (I was up until after 1:00, so I SUPPOSE it isn't too unreasonable to be in bed that long). I actually woke up at a fairly decent hour, but kept making myself go back to sleep. (Newsflash--sleeping half the day away does not take away the sadness, or the clutter, or really make you feel better at all...). Anyway, probably the only reason I got up at that time was because I had to sign some paperwork for my new windows. That, and I'm sure I was hungry and had to go to the bathroom. I then spent the rest of the morning and part of the afternoon just hanging out on the couch watching TV, so it isn't like I actually got up and DID anything...
I went to the doctor for my "annual physical". Somehow I weigh the same as I did the last time I went (not a GREAT weight, but at least I didn't gain any!). The person who measured me decided against "fudging" an extra 1/4 inch and charted me as 59 3/4 inches (thanks a lot! "That's what it says" was her response when I questioned if she could do a little rounding!). I was checked out from head to toe--including my neck/back (mostly likely muscular from painting) all the way down to my bunions (she gave me the name of a place that can recommend some good shoes or supports for me) and of course the fun stuff in between.
I was able to talk to the gentleman's wife, son, and daughter briefly at his visitation before I had to leave for my softball game. My aunt and uncle met me there, which was really nice. Last night, I went and cried with the ladies at Hallmark when I bought my sympathy card, then wrote quite a long note. During our short visit, his wife agreed that I was "meant" to be his nurse that day. I wrote something similar to that in my note. Even though it hurts SO much right now (although I'm not really sure why this is affecting me so dramatically...it actually seems a little ridiculous, but at least I live alone so nearly all of my bawling has been in private), God had a plan, and His plan involved me meeting them, having them help me through my experience of working with adults, and grieve over his death. I suppose each loss I have "experienced", whether from near or far, someone I have met briefly, known a long time, or never really met has taught me something. This one will probably be no different than those.
Wow, I sure hope typing all this is helping me because it is pretty depressing!
Anyway, I need to go to bed soon (and I'm sure I'll sleep well after all the crying, plus it was REALLY hot at the softball game...we lost by the "mercy rule" 0-20...ouch!), so I should get to the point of the title.
The little one was picked up a little before 6:30 last night. I had no idea how much money I would get for this "experience". I didn't really even think about a "price" just so I wouldn't get disappointed, or have to put someone on the spot. I hope my jaw didn't hit the floor when she told her husband how much to write the check for. I feel kind of badly writing this on my journal, so I will leave it a little vague...for the number of hours I was responsible for her, I received a little over a dollar an hour. To be fair, I looked through my foster parent information. On one of the papers, it looks like the foster parents of a child her age and needs would receive close to $250 a month; on that same paper, looking at the amount provided for "respite care" each month, I received almost twice that amount for three nights. Anyway, obviously you do not do foster care for the money, and I guess you don't do "respite care" for money either! Being a mom pays you "zero dollars", so even getting $1/hr is "bonus", right?!
Yay, that paragraph made me smile (I've been crying for pretty much the entire thirty minutes I've been typing)! Back to work tomorrow...hopefully there will be some nice fun happy people there to help keep my mind off the events of the past two days. At least it is just one day, then I'm off on Thursday and Friday.
Good night.
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