A longtime desk-jockey is thrown head-over-heels off the metaphorical horse, then slowly makes her way out of the quicksand, dusts off her Stetson, and saddles up to ride the range as a working nurse once again. Git along, little dogies......there's a new cowgirl in town!
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With apologies for the Old West metaphors.....I am, indeed, back in the saddle again as a floor nurse. And as sore as my old bones are from the unaccustomed exertions of this past week, it's a good kind of tired that reminds me of what it was like to be a nurse.
As expected, it hasn't taken me long to recall how I used to manage my shift, or to take the first steps in re-establishing myself with the aides and other nurses. Many of the staff are friends from the last time I worked here, so I'm a known quantity, which makes it much easier to transition back into this role despite the upheavals I've been through since I last called this facility my home-away-from-home.
Though I'm still technically on orientation, I already feel comfortable here. I'm learning two different jobs---float nurse and admissions nurse---as well as re-learning the charge position on the long-term care unit. I'm essentially the utility player, which is great because I'll certainly never be bored. As I've discovered over the past couple of years, boredom is a job-killer for me; I'm a sprinter, not a marathon runner, but I can go a lot farther if the view is interesting!
My friend (and now boss) also wants to train me as a fill-in for the care managers when they go on vacation, as it's very difficult to run a unit for another RCM along with one's own. This too is exciting, although I'm glad subbing for them will be only temporary. I made the mistake of mentioning this aspect of the job to my psychiatrist, who literally made me swear an oath that I would never, ever, EVER take any sort of management position without talking it over with him first. (And even then, he said he'd insist on accommodations for my health issues, which as I recall were what got me pitched head-over-heels off the last horse I was on.)
That's OK.....if he wants to slap the stupid out of me, he'll have to get in line because my family and friends will do it first. But there's not much to worry about, because every time I even think about being in charge of anything beyond my residents and crew for 8 hours, my stomach clenches up and I feel decidedly queasy. I'm sure I'll be tempted at some point in the future, but all I need to do is look at the fistful of pills I swallow twice daily to remind me of why I DON'T want to go back into management.
I'll admit that running the floors again is tough on this overweight, fifty-something body, and it's probably going to be a few weeks before I stop feeling like I'm dying. I'm just thankful that I lost a bunch of weight before coming here; I'm actually lighter than I was the last time I worked in this building, and I'm sure I'll sweat off another 10-15 lbs. before I hit a plateau again. Oh, darn!
It's hard to believe that after having sat in an executive chair in an air-conditioned office and making big bucks for almost three years, I'd be content to go back to the bedside in an old LTC and become a wage slave again. But life is a funny thing, and I've learned some great lessons during this odyssey I've been on.
For one thing, our priorities change quite a bit when it stops being about money or status, and I'll never regret that I didn't spend more time trying to acquire these things. My husband and I are alone for the first time in over thirty years; our kids are all adults and raising families of their own......now it's OUR time to enjoy the fruits of our labors. It's a great thing for a couple to reconnect and rediscover each other in these later years, and that can only be accomplished when the frenetic pace of everyday existence slows down. There's so much more to life than increasing its speed!
Even though my days are still jam-packed, now with cares to perform and shift reports to write, somehow they don't feel as rushed as they did when I carried 24/7 responsibility for eighty-five people, many of whom should have been in a place like this instead of assisted living. I know there'll be bad shifts, bad days, bad weeks; but I also know that when there's much more bad than good in my life, it's time to drop the reins and change horses in mid-stream, rather than keep pushing the old nag until we both drown.
OK, enough with the horse-pucky. Suffice it to say that I'm happy to be out of the quicksand, and while I no longer entertain any illusions about the 'forever job' (it doesn't exist), I'm definitely not ready to be put out to pasture yet. Yippee-ki-ay!
