Sick Cycle Carousel
I'm trying to type this as quietly as possible so no one will hear me. It's 11:50 pm on this Wednesday night. We managed to get into bed, Sophie, Ruthie Belle, and myself, before 9:00 pm which is great being it's the first week of school. Sunday night, though, Sophie was up literally all night throwing up with diarrhea so her first day of school was delayed until Tuesday. All the while little RB talked of her turn getting sick and when it happened would I take care of her? I reassured her all week as did Travis when he was here. Still, she kept waiting for her turn to be sick. Amazingly, her turn came tonight around 10:30. I was sound asleep. I awoke to gagging and the ominous sound of upchucking coming from her room followed by her soft sobs and tears. "Great" was the first thought that ran through my head followed quickly by "not again." Please don't think of me as inconsiderate because it broke my heart to have another child sick, but the late struggles of work and the hours I work, the lack of sleep that accompanies that, well it just took hold of me and I wondered how yet again I would function through this.
I hurried to her room and rushed her to the hall bathroom where she had another rendition. Then I calmly walked her back to her room, gathered her soiled linens, changed her puke-stained shirt, and tucked her into her surprisingly puke-free fitted sheet and comforter. I recalled her having prayed just hours before, "Jesus, please take care of me if I get sick." Hmm...how did she know this was coming?
After nearly an hour of trying to go back to sleep I gave in and clocked in to work. It's really hard to listen to horrible dictation all the while listening for what probably will be round 2 of puke-a-rama. And just now the dog has joined me in the office after my attempts to sneak out of bed to work without disturbing her have clearly failed. Now I wonder will I really hear RB if she regurges? Or will she wander into the office, a trail of red nastiness behind her on our new carpet...I guess I will have to wait and see.
So most of you know I am trapped in my job with tough hours and after all but begging on my knees I've been told there's no way out unless I sacrifice a Saturday or a Sunday or move to evening hours. Not hardly, I said. My home life is suffering, but my company doesn't care. I am mean, short-tempered, making mistakes with my work, but whatever. Keep on doing what you're doing, ma'am. I was met just 30 minutes ago by a message from work where I made a critical error. Gee...I wonder how that happened. Could it be that I'm half asleep and when I'm not I'm bordering on going crazy or actually already being there and just not altogether aware of it? I may lose my job before I ever have a chance to find something different. But, at this very moment as I type these letters, that doesn't break my heart like it used to. At this point I am just tired...I am worn out...I feel defeated...weak...frustrated...broken...and just tired of being tired. God's heard my prayer, I know it. He's heard it more than He probably wants to. I am not mad at Him one bit. I know He's preparing a door for me to enter and He's gonna close this one behind me and dead bolt it forever. I found myself in tears before I crawled out of bed a few minutes ago. I just don't know what to do next. The feeling of heavy, scratchy eyelids is all too familiar to me. That feeling of just being sleep deprived is getting old. It's to the point that I'm lashing out on Facebook about how awful things at work are becoming and how I'm up THIS early or THAT early...I'm pretty sure my FB friends are as tired of seeing it as I am living it. Guys, I apologize.
So, as I close I'm preparing to do my best to type what lies ahead of me dictation-wise and hopefully I won't mess up anyone's medication dosages or change anyone's gender or anything like that. And, I'll do my best to hold on until 4:15 am when my hours will be complete. Gee, I can't wait to see how I feel then! I'm sure I'll feel no different than I do any other day. It's just sad that my poor family doesn't get the better me, the fresher me...the me they deserve. They sure as dickens don't deserve this one, that's for sure. It's not their fault.
I hurried to her room and rushed her to the hall bathroom where she had another rendition. Then I calmly walked her back to her room, gathered her soiled linens, changed her puke-stained shirt, and tucked her into her surprisingly puke-free fitted sheet and comforter. I recalled her having prayed just hours before, "Jesus, please take care of me if I get sick." Hmm...how did she know this was coming?
After nearly an hour of trying to go back to sleep I gave in and clocked in to work. It's really hard to listen to horrible dictation all the while listening for what probably will be round 2 of puke-a-rama. And just now the dog has joined me in the office after my attempts to sneak out of bed to work without disturbing her have clearly failed. Now I wonder will I really hear RB if she regurges? Or will she wander into the office, a trail of red nastiness behind her on our new carpet...I guess I will have to wait and see.
So most of you know I am trapped in my job with tough hours and after all but begging on my knees I've been told there's no way out unless I sacrifice a Saturday or a Sunday or move to evening hours. Not hardly, I said. My home life is suffering, but my company doesn't care. I am mean, short-tempered, making mistakes with my work, but whatever. Keep on doing what you're doing, ma'am. I was met just 30 minutes ago by a message from work where I made a critical error. Gee...I wonder how that happened. Could it be that I'm half asleep and when I'm not I'm bordering on going crazy or actually already being there and just not altogether aware of it? I may lose my job before I ever have a chance to find something different. But, at this very moment as I type these letters, that doesn't break my heart like it used to. At this point I am just tired...I am worn out...I feel defeated...weak...frustrated...broken...and just tired of being tired. God's heard my prayer, I know it. He's heard it more than He probably wants to. I am not mad at Him one bit. I know He's preparing a door for me to enter and He's gonna close this one behind me and dead bolt it forever. I found myself in tears before I crawled out of bed a few minutes ago. I just don't know what to do next. The feeling of heavy, scratchy eyelids is all too familiar to me. That feeling of just being sleep deprived is getting old. It's to the point that I'm lashing out on Facebook about how awful things at work are becoming and how I'm up THIS early or THAT early...I'm pretty sure my FB friends are as tired of seeing it as I am living it. Guys, I apologize.
So, as I close I'm preparing to do my best to type what lies ahead of me dictation-wise and hopefully I won't mess up anyone's medication dosages or change anyone's gender or anything like that. And, I'll do my best to hold on until 4:15 am when my hours will be complete. Gee, I can't wait to see how I feel then! I'm sure I'll feel no different than I do any other day. It's just sad that my poor family doesn't get the better me, the fresher me...the me they deserve. They sure as dickens don't deserve this one, that's for sure. It's not their fault.
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