It’s (finally) a Holi Holi Day.

Today was the first day of my holidays. Hooray Hooray!

With just one day to go before the hubby and I fly off to the other side of the world and begin our long awaited Camino, it’s time to look at packing the backpack. Camino folklore predicts that the weight of one’s backpack should be ten percent of one’s body weight (and of course, the lighter the better). Whilst not divulging too much of a girl’s intimate details, I would like my backpack to be under eight kilograms. 

Last year on the Camino Frances, my backpack weighed in at a back breaking ten kilos. I eventually got use to it as my crippling spinal processes would brace together like a fusion gallantly heaving the load up hill and across the plains of Spain. Not this time. I will be brutal when it come to quantity in an effort to keep the back happy.

After culling the pile of clothes down to absolute necessities, the pack weighed in at 6.85kg (without water). Not too bad, for a start. I just have to be brave and in the next 24hrs, before we leave our front door to board the plane, if I happen to remember something that absolutely needs to be added, then a sacrifice will have to be made.

It’s brutal I say.

It’s a No-Show

Some days, you just can’t be bothered.  We all have them; sickies, mental health days, going AWOL, truancy, playing hooky;  whatever you call them, they are a thing of beauty when you can’t possibly face another day at the salt mine. Unions have fought tooth and nail in the past for this privilege to get paid on a day when you would have worked, but for any reason real or imaginable, you just cannot do it now.  Today is my day.

In my workforce,  we are allowed up to ten days of paid sick leave a year for the full-time staff and pro-rata for the part-timers. Gone are the days when you had to drag yourself from your death bed to get a doctors certificate even for one day off. Now, in the health care industry,  we can take up to two days off without a certificate or a word of why, just phoning in and saying those four magic words, “I’m calling in sick”.

Yes, you may get an attack of the guilts about a minute after you make that call but you must understand,  life goes on and your workplace will cope without you. This can be a somewhat belittling experience for some who may believe in their own propaganda of self-importance but you’ll get over it. Now as one of the team leaders of my ward, I rarely take these mental health days. Unlike some who take one as soon as their eight hours are accrued (not being judgemental here), I have a respectable 373 hours owing. That is over twelve weeks of paid sick leave, that if I don’t use, will be lost in the system forever. Tonight, with a thumping headache that even paracetamol won’t dull, I am in need of an extra day off and an early sleep. Maybe I’ll be able to start my days off not as sleep deprived or under a cloud of fogginess. 

Looking forward to sunshine tomorrow.

Feeling a little dull.

Escape to Hilarity.

Sometimes my mind wanders to places of intrigue. In the important moments, I promise I stay focused on the vitals of my patients vitals. I mean as a nurse who abhors paperwork, it is in both of our interests to stay alert and on top of all potential and real situations.  However in those minutes of oxygen depleted madness when all thoughts are taken beyond reason, creativity is released.

Last night my meandering mind fell into the realm of marketing.  We all dream about ways to make a fortune. I have invented so many wonderful and crazy innovations over the years that have stayed strictly in the grey matter between my ears, only to be lost in the ether of a new day. They may only be ideas of grandeur but they help escape the tedium of a normal day. Last night I hit the comedy button.

Things to put on a Button

Ur in(e)  my world.
(Well I am a renal nurse).

Wt for Us
(Again, as a renal nurse we weigh our patients every morning. Believe me when I say, no one likes this early morning wake up call).

Be Patient
(For those moments of hectic madness and mirth).

Am I your feet?
(This I saw on a t-shirt but sometimes find very appropriate for some buzzer happy patients).

Ok so I did say it was just a few moments of mind madness but that was as good as it got last night in my downtime. I may not have invented the wheel or cured cancer but I did for a brief moment, escape to hilarity.

From my bedroom window.

I have just downloaded a compass app on my phone. I wanted to inform you about the direction I gaze out when lying in my bed and looking out my bedroom window. This is the view that invariably greets me when I leave my dreams and crack open my eyelids. This is sometimes the view that predicts whether I rise to start the day or roll over to continue to slumber. By all accounts, it is not a spectacular view, but it is filled with plenty of blue sky and one stand alone tall tree that birds seem to love fighting for the right to be at its zenith. Spectacular bedroom views are reserved for those holiday mornings when you have spent hours trawling the internet and paid a fortune for a glimpse of the Eiffel Tower or the beach at your breezy door. So this is my everyday, living the dream but reality bites, all I could afford at the time, mortgaged, view.

The compass tells me that as my head lies, I face east as I awake. Well to be more accurate, around the 100 degree mark. Just a smidge south of east but still towards the rising sun. As I also reside 27 degrees latitudinally south of the equator (this compass just keeps on giving), I am just a few degrees off the sun blasting on my tender waking eyeballs in the summer. All good news to start an early summer day with the birds at 4.30am but now as winter draws to an end, the light doesn’t stream in so bright and perky as yet.

After living in the same location for the past twenty five years, and due to the lack of the interior designer gene, I have seen this scene for all these years. Not much has changed in this time. The tree has gotten taller and my neighbours roof acquired the plumbing for heating the pool with a river of black hose ribboned across its length. However the sky is still wide and vivid, and the stars are still visible to wish upon on my dark nights. My compass tells me I am home.

Top to Tail.

Now with a title like this, you could easily think that this is a blog about an exciting travel adventure from the tip of Cape York to the bottom of Tasmania. Or on closer inspection it could be about the joys of one’s gastrointestinal system which is truly another great voyage. Unfortunately this is a tale of two areas of the human body that required my attention today. Proceed ahead if you have the will and the stomach for such topics.

Oh the joys of being human…..and a woman.

Last night after my meal of homemade spaghetti bolognese, I felt as if there was something annoyingly stuck between my teeth. After not clearing the offender out with my inquisitive tongue or my equally directionally challenge fingernail,  I sent in the miniature miner toothpick.  A pick and a dig later and viola, a clearance, which happened to be a chip of tooth. Yes that’s right, I chipped off a bit of tooth leaving a very gapping hole big enough for my inquisitive tongue to borrow. So this explains why little Italian ladies with meat sauce stained aprons have big gummy grins. Spaghetti is the culprit.

So this morning I called the dentist for an emergency visit to fix the hole before infection sets in.

Yesterday I also received a letter reminding me about my scheduled visit for the dreaded pap smear. Every odd numbered year I schedule this odd and uncomfortable test to stay ahead of the fear of cervical cancer. This year marks my sweet sixteenth visit. Imagine the fun! You men may have the equally uncomfortable bend-over-and-cough test but lets just say that having something similar to a duck bill inserted into your nether regions, should be included as a weapon of torture. Lucky me got to have this test today as well. Two holes, one bird!

However before these visits there is a bit of preparation to be done. As a relatively low maintenance lady, I do stay clear of the wolf pack by regular showering and grooming, but as it is winter, a few essentials have gone amiss.  As I am in long pants and socks most of these cool days, the lower limbs are only glimpsed sparingly and as such a forest has flourished. Now I know the Doctor will be down below the belt with miners light on, so not only a shave is necessary but I have also repainted the toenails with a watermelon scented polish, to provide an interesting fragrance for her efforts. As with all visits to the Doctor,  she will probably provide a breast examination to boot, so while at it, the pits are pruned as well.

You may think that the Dentist is easier with just a thorough brushing of your teeth before a visit, but for us ladies, there is also the question of errantly growing facial hair. I like to provide a clear and smooth surface for someone to gaze upon with googles a few inches from my face. So out come the tweezers to capture those wayward hairs that seem to appear anywhere on your face thanks to the hormonal shift of menopause.  Good grief,  it’s enough to make you balmy. 

I am reminded of Michelle Pfeiffer in the bathroom scene from One Fine Day prior to her date with the delectable George Clooney,  she with leg in the sink as she both shaves and brushes her teeth. Not quite me but close, and no George sleeping on the couch waiting for me. In fact at the end of today, I sit alone on the couch with numb gums and a scrapped fanny with just a semblance of dignity left but hopeful an unlikely picture of health.

Quack Quack.

Vocation Vocation Vocation

My friend has recently returned to work from an ill-fated attempt at early retirement.  The cost of living being as it is, coupled with the desires of further and future travel, mean that the need for moolah supersedes the want of not returning to the salt mine. My friend, like most people, has a love/hate relationship with her workplace. Loves the people. Hates the hours. Loves the wage. Hates the work. More importantly she disliked the fact that work was keeping her away from living. In her words, like a thorn in her side, it was just getting in the way.

Work should be something that you either love doing or that you have a natural propensity of achievement. This I learnt,  maybe a bit late for me, when I attended all the career open days with my kids. The message of choosing something that you love doing was the mantra, instead of the Gordon Gekko-isms of the eighties when greed was good and needed to be achieved at all costs. Everyone wanted to choose careers that made the megabucks with dreams of a Ferrari parked in the garage of the mansion. Following the days of the global financial crisis,  any job is a asset but maybe to the detriment of joy.

Although I would never for one moment say that my job is a joy, I do believe I am a natural nurse. One of my fellow peregrina’s from last years Camino remarked that she could tell from all my passing comments to fellow pilgrims that I was a nurse. Apparently my first question after a warm greeting was, “Are you okay?” She noted that I was always first to enquire and willing to help. That comment made me realize, more than the thirty years of service to the profession, that maybe this was my calling. It certainly helped boost my confidence when I returned to work to know that even when the days are horrendously busy, I could peel back the mayhem and find the caring gene. Now I just need to recharge the batteries to return to the mayhem again tonight.

Cool and clear

Of Mind…..
I have been working with the same colleague for twelve years. Notice I didn’t say friend. Our relationship has taken many twists and turns over the years with some highs and one very deep, long lasting low. However through it all we both knew that we had a job to do and carry on we did. The adage, “Its not personal. It’s business”, always plays through my idiom as I also have the added responsibility of professional seniority. Not to repeat the downward spiral of years gone by, I felt as if my colleague wasn’t happy with me last week. Now this lady wallows in the pool of negativity most days and I have learnt over the years that this is her character and not necessary for me to change,  it is what it is. However this antagonism appeared more directed to me than a general situation. I left her without any ill feeling or comment and lamented all week over how I would approach her when I met her again. At work last night, I decided to not open a can of worms, as I have learnt that she stores much of her unhappiness in this anti-pandora box, and rather than revisit the negative,  begin a positive. I ignored the feeling residing within and began a new dialogue.  I went out of my way to help her and to not seek praise, as I have learnt she rarely gives it. We conversed over a common topic, menopause,  which she being ten years older, was happy to share advise about. I remained cool and calm as I felt the tension that she had last week begin to disappear.  Why clear a slate with a dirty rag when you can pick up a new one and begin afresh?

Of Body….
I am loving the cool and crystal clear taste of tap water lately. I truly appreciate this necessity of life more and more now that I have stayed away from sugary drinks this year. I was never a big drinker of any fluid as I tended to err on the dehydrated side than water-logged, but now I drink about two litres of fresh tap water a day and feel so much better for it. My skin feels smoother as well as all the health benefits within my body. I know that I will one day be tempted by the sizzle of a pop drink as socially speaking, “I’ll just have water”, is a bit of a party fizzer. But I hope to continue to enjoy this elixir of life for many years to come.

Its all cool and clear.

Gathering

Last night we enjoyed a mini family get together.  My nephew was in town for the week before again flying to the other side of the continent to resume his work at the mines. So with his sweet Irish girlfriend and her visiting sister in tow, they came over for a family feast. To complete our family circle was our son and youngest daughter and their respective partners. Nine in total around the large outdoor setting (the only table to accommodate the hungry masses), huddled together in the cold winter’s evening. 

We ate quickly while the meal remained warm (chicken cacciatore, rice, potato bake and hot chocolate pudding with fresh double cream), and chatted happily before I noticed  body parts retrieving within their sweaters like disappearing tortoise necks. They were all turning blue before my eyes. As I liken myself to a polar bear, more for the love of her cubs but also due to my ample body mass, I was oblivious to the cool especially in the glow of my loving family. It was time to say goodbye to the gathering….until next time anyway.

This morning I awoke as grey as the weather and decided to have a day at home. As a nurse, I’m well aware of the benefits of rest. Even God needed a down day once a week. However I also live by the creed of not wasting a single moment of my finite life. So as I finished the cleaning up of last nights conclave, I spied a project that would  suffice my creative itch. Armed with a shoebox and wrapping paper,  I decorated the box that will, as of today, house all my colouring-in gear.

Home is a great gathering place.

Nothing

It had to come.

I had an inkling that it would happen on a Sunday as well.

Writers block.

Although now that I am into my twenty seventh word of this post, I must say it isn’t words that I lack but inspiration.

At the beginning of this year I started this blog to nuture my creative side. I promised myself that I would make the mundane miraculous by simply observing the positivity of an ordinary life. To do this I thought that a somewhat regimented daily approach was not only needed but wanted.

Finding inspiration on a daily basis has been surprisingly easy. Except for the weekends when I feel bogged down in the grind of my working life. Also due to my night shift brain, what little grey matter isn’t bashing together to stay awake and focused at work, refuses to comprehend coherent thoughts during blog time. Poor brain wants bedtime instead.

So although today’s offering may be uninspired and devoid of creativity,  be assured that I am human and will be joyfully appreciating my pillow in just a few moments.

Think about it.

Niggles.

Things have a funny way of happening in threes don’t they?

Thrice today I felt the need to air my chest, so to speak. A few things were bothering me and I needed to release the steam valve before a minor explosion occurred. I don’t want to be the one that dwells on the negative but niggles have a way at gnawing on your psyche.  Something has to be done otherwise something has to give.

I eagerly phoned my friend yesterday to find out the results of her biopsied breast lumps. This time last year the news wasn’t good, and so followed a year of treatment that no one wanted to see her go through again. All great news but then the realization that she had known the result for the last five days. A little disappointment crept in under the joy of knowing that all was okay. Not to put a dampener on her day, I said nought yesterday and brewed on it overnight. Luckily my daughter acted as the sounding board this morning as the saddness has now dissipated.

Another time was when I phoned my son this morning and found out that he had visited a friend in my street, and didn’t drop in to see me on the weekend. I have been so looking forward to sharing his joy of having his partner back after her five week absence. I bravely expressed my disappointment, after he had not wanted to have an early morning coffee with me today, after yoga was all but washed out due to rain. Again, it was my feelings rubbed. He did nothing wrong, today or the other day. As he said, he was busy this morning hence couldn’t make coffee, and he knew that I would be sleeping at the time he was around on the weekend.  I quickly accepted this but still…..niggle niggle.

Finally as I was driving home from the washed out yoga; the disappointment about not meeting my son for a chat; and today’s food shopping, I crossed a bridge that always plagues me when I cycle over it. I have had a few near misses with impatient cars driving in the bike lanes, and wouldn’t you know it, I drove beside a car that did this very illegal and dangerous drive this morning (luckily no bikes were around due to the rain). I decided to alert the authorities instead of accept it and let the niggle turn into an accident.

Sometimes it may be hard to speak your mind, and I fully respect and acknowledge that some conversations should have filters but when emotional build up does occur,  then ease your pain and speak up.
And good luck.

Today's storm on the horizon.