Wedding Nightmares

My wedding is 3 1/2 weeks away, and I am so excited and I cannot even begin to explain it, but this morning my excitement is for a difference reason. I am excited for my wedding to get here because then my nightmares will have to stop! My fiance and I have been engaged for about a year and a half, and over that time I have had only one big nightmare about the wedding. My mom has had nightmares, my maid of honor, but not really me. So, of course, being the nice bride-t0-be that I am I have made fun of them (especially my mom) and have thought to myself "I am way to put together for nightmares about the wedding, what could go wrong?" Well, the joke is on me now....

Just in the past week or so I have started having nightmares on a nightly basis. Mainly just little things and at this point I don't even really remember them, but last night, well I will not be forgetting it anytime soon.

For some reason the reoccurring theme in my nightmare is that I can't remember getting married. I usually cue in right after the wedding and realize its over and practically burst into tears because I don't remember the actual ceremony. Usually I end up begging to do it over again so that I can remember. I genuinely feel sorry for people with amnesia because I can barely handle it in my dreams.

So my dream last night starts with me walking into the church sanctuary from the side entrance. I am fully dressed in my wedding dress ready to go. It is not my dad's church where I am getting married and looks more like the church that my fiance's brother got married in. So as I'm walking in all of the groomsmen are lined up at the front of the church (no idea where the bridesmaids are). As I'm walking past them, I realize that none of them match. They have all decided to wear their own dress shirts, most with designs on them, and one has decided he's too cool for his tux jacket and is wearing a pull over sweater with his tux. My mouth about drops and then I realize that the wedding is over. I'm married, and again I remember nothing. I ask if we can do it again, receiving all the usual bizarre looks. Yes, Yes, I'm the bride and I don't remember my wedding! I brush that off and decide to go find my "husband" because for some reason all of the guests are still sitting in the church and I am walking in alone. As I cross the front of the church and all the groomsmen to get to the center aisle I make some smart remark about their outfits to which they all give me dirty looks and cop attitudes. I decide I don't have time for their attitudes and head down the center aisle alone.

As soon as I get out of the sanctuary I see my now "husband" and I run to him and give him a huge hug, suddenly everything is better, for a moment... Meanwhile all of the guests are exiting the sanctuary like someone has just thrown a grenade in there. My "husband" picks me up in the hug and twirls me around, my dress swirls and I'm thinking what a great photo op this would be, but I see no photographers around. He sets me down and suddenly I realize that he is wearing what I can only assume is a Court Jester costume minus the hat. He is wearing a white undershirt with a black vest with bright red trim. The pants are black but look extremely worn, and have the elastic around the ankles like the old 80's pants. He has on white socks which are extremely obvious due the the elastic bunching above his ankles and black shoes of some sort. My mouth gapes as I ask if that is what he wore for the ceremony (because I don't remember). He says no, he just thought he'd put it on for now and acts put off that I would be commenting on his apparel. Bewildered with my mouth gaping he distracts me by saying I look pretty. I look down at my dress and realize it was never pressed. My "hubby" leans down and starts trying to help me fix it because everything is bunched and wrinkled. I realize that the dress is way too long and I'm tripping on it and when I stick one of my feet out of the skirt I realize I am wearing old lady loafers and the thickest nylons I have ever seen in my life. At this point complaining is pointless. My shoulders slouch as I realize I'm just going to have to accept all of this.

Now we are still in the back lobby of the church but on the other side of us is now a strip mall with tons of restaurants like Blimpie, a hot dog shop etc. Suddenly exhausted I look at my new "husband" in his court jester costume and realize he is mad at ME. Somehow we have gotten into a fight, that which I do not remember either, and for some reason I decide to pinch him really hard because at the moment that seems like the most sane thing to do. He gets very mad and threatens to pinch me much harder and we are left arguing in the church "lobby" with the strip mall across the street and cars zipping by, him in a court jester costume, me in my too long wrinkled dress and loafers, all the guests have run away and the church is empty.....

I wake up thrashing in my bed screaming "NO!!!!" Once I wake up I lay there clutching my comforter in a cold sweat realizing it was just a dream, and then spend the next half hour trying to figure out how I can prevent all of those things from happening. At this point I can only pray for insomnia...

Group Projects aka the worst idea EVER

Whoever invented group projects should be shot. They may be easier for the professor to grade, but they are awful for the students.

In one of my classes this semester we are doing research on cardiovascular disease in children. Our ONLY formal assignment is a group project in which we have to do a paper and a power point on a given topic, and then present in front of the class.

We originally had 5 group members: 1 dropped the class, 1 has done nothing, and the other 3 of us have done everything. So this girl that has done nothing, we'll call her Jill, has literally done nothing all semester. I haven't even seen her in class since the first day our group met in September. We present at 10am tomorrow morning and she e-mailed an imcomplete portion of her part of the paper at 7:47 this evening. Reading over her paper I noticed that none of her facts are correct (I have actually already written her portion of the paper, she just doesn't know that), there are no citations and she is now whining and complaining to me via text message that she needs to be on the same page as all of us.

Here are the lists of excuses I have gotten over the semester:

1. There was a death in her family. (e-mailed to me 2 days after our group met)
2. She was up north over Thanksgiving
3. She misread my e-mail and didn't realize she was suppose to e-mail me her portion of the paper.
4. She's been having health issues and has been in and out of the hospital 7 times this past month.

Sad. I almost feel bad, until I put it all together and realize these are CLASSIC excuses! If you're going to lie, at least put some thought into it. Oh wait, instead of thinking up excuses, just write the paper!!!!!!

If you don't laugh you'll cry

So it's been a while since I've blogged so I thought I'd tell you some recent highlights of my life:

I was at work the other day and one of the other CNAs, Sam, comes and gets me and has little brown specks all over her light pink scrub pants. She looks at me and says "So I when I rolled this lady on her side to change her brief she started farting" looks down at her pants...

Later that afternoon the activity aide comes to get me to tell me one of my residents needs to use the bathroom. She's a two person transfer so Sam comes into the bathroom to help me. We stand the lady up and get her pants down and she says "I'm coming!" I didn't know if we were talking pee or poop here and all of the sudden poop is falling like logs, so we dash to get her over the toilet right as a huge piece hits the seat and miliseconds later her but hits the seat creating a waterballon breaking type reaction. Sam and I just look at each other, poop everywhere, and she says "What a crappy day" at which point we both erupted into laughter. The resident looks at me (completely clueless to the poop sandwich she just created) and with complete seriousness and exasperation says "Why does this have to happen during Bingo?!"

Today I have this lady who has been nauseous/vomiting the past two days. She's been fine my entire shift, I get her into bed, have the puke bucket next to her so she can grab it if she needs it, (even though all day she just kept setting it on the floor), walk out and 10 seconds later she is yelling for me. I walk in to find her covered in puke all down to opposite side where the bucket is. If the bucket is on your right, why would you turn your head to the left?!

Side note: Tiny frail people who can't feed themselves or dress themselves somehow still have the strength to beat the crap out of you.

I need a day off.

I should have stayed in bed today...

So, my day started with taking a huge medications exam which the professor himself admitted was ridiculously hard and said "It'll be interesting to see how you guys do." Great. Thanks.

So then I go to lab where I have to palpate this girl's heart rate and get her to certain HR/workloads on different exercise machines. I get in there and the first machine I have to do is a bike and I need to get her to 131 bpm. Before I do anything I take her resting HR and standing there doing nothing she's at 142 bpm. Awesome.

So next my lab partner and I go to the computer lab where were work for over two hours on our case study and make this dynamite power point. Right as we're about to save the finished product the computers in the lab freeze. One of the other people call the techs to come fix the problem and about five minutes later this girl waltzes in, glances at the computer and then pulls the master plug for all the computers (uh...I COULD HAVE DONE THAT!). I had saved once to the hard drive planning to e-mail it to myself. Everything is gone. Not a trace of our work. We're both just staring at the computer willing something to pop up on the screen and then the tech saunters over. "Is it working now?" Me- "Yes but everything is gone." Her- flippantly "Well it says right there don't save on the hard drive."

You know the movie "Monster-in-Law" when she lunges at her mother-in-law and chokes her but its just in her head. That is exactly what was going through my head. God must have been with me because I have never wanted to lunge at someone so bad in my life and I have no idea how I stayed in my chair.

So after a grand total of 7 hours in the health professions building, eating only a pop tart and a handful of cheez-its, and after a good five minutes of just staring at each other in disbelief my lab partner and I re-did our power point...

Sorry Ben...

I realized today as I was grocery shopping that my fiance is doomed and may eventually appear on one of those feed the children ads once we get married- I get to the checkout counter at the grocery store today and here's the jist of my cart: bread, bananas, cheese, milk, a lunchable, pizza rolls and salad. Enough said.

Spoiled for life

Everyone has met kids that clearly have not ever heard the word "no". They are the "little princesses" that get everything they want. You meet those same bratty kids later in high school, who have clearly never worked a day in their life and have everything they ask for. I use to think that all bratty kids eventually grew up into normal adults. I no longer think that.



I'm a CNA and I absolutely love my job, most of the time. We'll go 90-10 on the love. 9 of that 10% of hating my job is due to a few select personality types (to put it nicely). I am well aware that these people are not able to do everything for themselves and I am more than happy to help, when it is a legit need. See its those bratty spoiled kids, that are still bratty when they're 80 and in the nursing home. They can't understand that I am taking care of multiple people and they get mad when I'm not at their beckon call to fetch them a snack or fluff their pillows. I have one person that needs to use the bathroom, another person who is a fall risk climbing out of bed without me there, call lights going off, alarms beeping at me, and a running to-do list in my head of who needs to use the bathroom, who needs to be put to bed, who is diabetic and needs a snack, etc. and there I stand, listening quietly as I am being yelled at for not having their snack to them after I have just spent way to much time fluffing their pillows and making sure everything is exactly to their specifications and they are comfortable. And all the while I'm holding my tongue when I'm asked to move the pillow a quarter inch to the right and then back two centimeters. Then when they have finally relesed me I walk into the next room and nearly burst into tears when I see the elderly gentleman who has fallen asleep in his wheelchair while waiting for me to help him get into bed. No call light on, not upset when I wake him up to let him know I'm there and apologize for the delay. Just smiles and says "I'm ready when you are."



I think all people should be required to work in a school and patient care prior to having children. They'll think twice about how they parent.



Now, after my little rant, I have to add that I really do love my job. I tolerate the 9% that make me want to slam my badge on the nurse's desk, rip my certification in half and burn all my scrubs, but it's the other 90% that are the reason I do what I do. The sweet little old lady that looks at me with tears in her eyes and says the most heartfelt thank you I have ever heard, all because I helped her get ready for bed and tucked her in. Or the little old man whose face lights up because I brought him some ice cream. Or another lady who daily tells me she doesn't know how much I get paid but that its not enough, and how thankful she is that I'm there. Or when I see them slowly making their way down the hall in their wheelchair and come up and ask if they want a push, knowing they never would have asked but that secretly their arms are exhausted. Or when the sweetest lady's face lights up because I saw a pair of cute slippers in the bin and grabbed them for her. Or when one of them is crabby and by the time I have them in bed they are laughing. It's those smiling faces that warm my heart and bring tears to my eyes. Yeah, there are those people that make my blood pressure sky-rocket, and yeah my nose no longer registers stink until its off the charts bad, and yes when someone pukes I am now the one running in instead of the one the one bee-lining for the exit, but I have an endless number of those sweet moments and smiling faces, and its those moments that tune out all the bad, and are the reason I'm a CNA.

Turn Lanes

Turn lanes were invented for a reason. Period. First off, let's just take a little journey back to Driver's Ed: A turn lane is a lane meant for turning. OK, that being said, let's elaborate. Turn lanes are there so that the rest of traffic doesn't come to a screeching halt everytime someone wants to turn. The process is meant to work flawlessly, except for those oh so wonderful drivers who feel it necessary to come to a complete stop to turn INTO the TURN LANE, and THEN make their turn!!!!! I really don't think this can be termed "road rage" when the person deserves to be rear-ended. Seriously, whats next? A "Turning into the turn lane" lane?? Turn lanes aren't there because the road construction crew got bored and wanted to add color to the road.

While we're on the subject, let's hit speed limits. They're they for a reason too. You look at the number on the sign, and the look at your speedometer, and when they match you're good. Going 30 in a 45 or worse 55 in a 70 is just...I have no words....

See I live in a college town, so driving is pretty much a free-for-all. You have the invinceable college kids, the permanent residents who want to teach the invicible college kids a lesson, the people who should read my above note about turn lanes and speed limits, and the driver's ed kids who are just plain hilarious. (Someday I'm going to follow a driver's ed car with a video camera. It will probably be the best video ever!) Needless to say, I'm either going to have to hire a chaufer or go on high blood pressure meds...