Work Issues

I'm listening to John Mayer at work in an effort to avoid binge eating junk food, which is essentially "stress eating".
What is it about work, that it evolves from being an enjoyable experience to being, well, work?
People always say that you should do what you love, but the fact is, you'll love doing anything for the first couple months, perhaps even years, but eventually the stress/wear and tear/general work environment will dull your love of your job.
In fact, I would put forward that people are most happy in jobs that are solitary and do not require any daily interaction with large amount of people.
Proof: look how happy landscapers are. They might work with one other person the entire day, be exhausted and tired, but still not have to deal with the drama that accompanies working with extended staff. Artists who paint in silence are proof indeed.
The fact is, each of us are individuals that unfortunately bring issues to the workplace, carrying our home problems in with us, and affecting the way that we treat people who interact with us every day. A fight with a spouse might send someone into an angry or frustrated spiral, that they take out on their coworker who unwittingly steps on their nerves.
Of course we all do this with family members, but coworkers are not family members, and so I don't think we should treat each other or be treated like such. I mean, I shouldn't have to listen to a doctor berate me because she feels like something isn't being done her way or to her preference. STFU lady. You make mistakes in your OR and no one rubs it in your face, so stop being a self-righteous hypocrite and go boil your head.
That is all. For the love of God, please do the world a favour and don't bring your personal issue or anger management problems to your workplace. We're all entitled to a peaceful and zen work environment, and I'M GETTING WHAT I'M ENTITLED TO.

Documentation

If I had to pick one word that embodies my job and in essence, the hospital itself, I would pick the word documentation.

I thought about this at work today. Everything that we do is signed and cosigned. Every movement that patient makes is charted...the bowel movements are categorized and explained, the urine measured carefully and often sent to the lab for cultures. Basically any significant movements or occurrences among the patients is documented in one way or another.

I document what they eat, what room and bed they're in, the time they admitted and the time they are discharged. When they leave the ward for a few minutes, it's recorded. Almost everything we do seems to be for posterity sake.

In many ways it does become tiring and boring. Recording the similar information day after day is tiresome.

But, it's like life. Everyday we repeat tasks and actions. The repetition is almost part of who we are.

Not sure, where I was going with this. I felt in a contemplative mood until I actually started writing. It's as though I can no longer freely describe thoughts and ideas without fear of being judged or condemned.

That is all, I suppose.

At The End Of It All

There is literally a sense of death hanging in the air, surrounding the nurses station and the main hall, as a patient in her mid-50s approaches the imminent end of her life. We speak in hushed tones, and the laughter from visitors seems indecent. There is a propriety, and a respect that permeates all we do. Although the medical staff is calloused by the repetition of death, a code exists, that requires us to behave a very specific way.

The young daughter who sleeps in the hospital room on a cot, the grieving husband, the trickling of family/visitors through the always open door lends to the closure, the ending of life as they know it. Even more unbelievable is attempting to wrap your mind around the fact that you will soon die.

You lay in bed, too weak and in pain to move, soaking in the faces of the family, people you love, knowing that in perhaps in the next minute, the next hour, that night, or the next day, you will draw your last breath. The waiting is probably the most agonizing thing, waiting for death to come, waiting for nothingness.

How do you do it? How do you face each hour knowing it could be your last?

What would you do with the time you have left? How would you make it?

How would you suppress the rising panic that you are leaving things undone?

How can you be sure that you will leave the people you love cared for?

You can see how death is meant to come with old age.
You are prepared, you have lived a full life, and you have matured and grown wise.
As the years past you prepare yourself (perhaps subconsciously to some extent) for death.
You prepare financially, emotionally, physically, and mentally.

But what happens when you're young, when three weeks ago you were up and walking about and now are confined to bed rest? What do you do when you aren't ready to leave this world?

This may be so cliched and overused but really, the only advice I can give about be prepared for your end is live your life fully! Don't regret not saying things you should have, not trying new things, not tasting life completely. Don't live your life afraid of making mistakes. Get out there and just be.

Do not fear death, but rather the unlived life.
-Tuck Everlasting.

Work

There is a chasm of difference between my coworkers and myself.

Every single one of them is married or in a long-term relationshion, and has at least one child.
They will all at the drop of a hat describe their excruciating pregnancy and the joys of motherhood.
They discuss cooking, cleaning house, spending time with lovers and children, and carry on in the most Stepford manner.

I struggle to understand them, what makes their world spin around, and how to carry a conversation with them.
Not only that, I believe they don't how to reach me. So their answer to the worlds of difference is to just ignore me for the most part, only speak to me as much as work requires, and leave me to my own devices.
They are not bad people, nor malicious or cruel. They simply can't relate to me.

It suits me fine, to be left to work at my own pace, to find my way through a work shift, and to meander along.
But at times, I feel so lonely, and feel as though I will never deeply connect with any of these people.

The hardest thing about this all, is the way I compare it to my old job, where in a staff of maximum twenty people, I got along with every single person, knew each of them outside of work, could carry on conversations for entire shifts, and happily built work relationships. We knew so much about each other and had the best moments together.

And now, in a far more professional workplace, surrounded by many more people...watched at all times...I often feel lonely.

For the most part I try not to compare the jobs, because they are of two completely opposite existences, but at times I remember the good times had by all, and miss those days.

I love my job, but there are cons to it, as per anything.

Not Myself.

I feel everyday as though I am possibly not who I am, or not who I should be.

I was contemplating this last night, as I thought about my job.
At a desk all day, somewhat knowledgeable in regards to medical terminology, testings, and general things.
Dealing with somewhat frustrating people, answering phones, booking doctors appointment, and generally doing a job I never thought I could do, or would do.

Then looking different, and feeling different inside.

And knowing that things are going to change all the more, pushing things to change, wanting things to change if it's the last thing that I can do.

I try not to think about the way things are, because they only confuse me and cause me to question if I am where I should be.