100 Happy Days: Week Four

The end of week 4 already! 

It's crazy how fast the time flies - I'm already a 1/4 of the way through my 100 happy days.

So far this challenge has been eye opening.

I always knew I was a positive person (with the odd downer of a day where nothing seems to go right) but wondering what picture to use every day has been tougher than I thought it would be, but only because so may things make me happy. 

Really simple things. 

A desert, the way the sun feels, the simple act of relaxing.

This week I found one day particularly challenging but at the same time not.

At work one morning this past weekend I received a call from a former patient's mother.

I had spoken many times to this woman when she would call to get updates on how her son was doing.

This patient was with us for many months before being discharged home about two months ago and while with us he had made huge advances, both physically and mentally. He went from having to be moved from his bed to his wheelchair using a ceiling lift to transferring completely independently. 

I had met him on two previous admissions and had been aware of his heavy drug use. When he came to us this last time he had been in and out the ICU for months and had been clean for that same amount of time.

And he was so grateful. 

He reconnected with his family, started saving his money towards things he'd always wanted, and made moves to lead a healthier life. 

About a week or two before his discharge, he slipped up and used.

I remember having a long conversation with him one evening where he apologized for letting me and the staff down. 

I gave him a huge hug and told him he hadn't let anyone down and reassured him that this one slip up hadn't ruined all the progress he had made. 

I gave him another huge hug the day before he left and told him to take care of himself.

I thought about him a lot after his discharge, wondering how he was doing.

Getting that call... 

I've experienced many patient's deaths, as is the nature of my job, but none have hit my the way this one did.

After I hung up with his mother, I went downstairs to light out memorial candle and wrote a quick note to him in our book.

Then I sat for a few minutes in the stairwell and cried.

With every other patient I knew they were going to die and my job was to make sure it was a comfortable, dignified final journey. 

This one wasn't expected. I mean, we all knew it would happen sooner or later as this guy had lived 9 lives, but I wasn't prepared. And he'd come so far from when I'd first met him. 

I was heartbroken. 

So P., wherever you are now, I hope you're happy and doing what you love. 

And I hope the Cowboys win the Super Bowl, just for you.

You are my happy thing this week.

I'll miss you fiercely.

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

Day 22: Friday.

You've already seen the recipe.

I had a craving, and the craving was satisfied with these quick and delicious brownies.

This recipe is my go-to from now on.

Chocolate is always happiness.

Day 23: Saturday.

This may seem stupid but to me it's not.

Full fat yogurt.

For so many years I only ate the lowest of the low fat yogurt. 

In the vein of not depriving myself and not setting diet rules, I've started eating full fat yogurt and OH MY GOODNESS it's so much better.

My happy thing for Saturday was eating full fat yogurt without a single hint of regret or guilt. 

I'm still working on regular pop (though I don't think this is the best idea and I'm actually trying to drink way more water than I usually do)

Day 24: Sunday.

Sunday was the tough day at work that I (long-windedly) mentioned above, so I was in a weird state of mind.

It ended on a high note though, as the nursing student that I had worked with a few times while he regular preceptors were away got me a gift!

Her roommate's family I think owns Pillitteri winery in Niagara and she and I had talked about my love of Niagara so at the end of the shift she gave me a bottle of wine!

So lovely.

Day 25: Monday.

Day 5 of work. A busy day with lots of blood work (I'm now 4 for 4, 100% success rate with taking blood. Basically I'm a natural), vitals, assessments, etc. I was tired, especially knowing I still had one more shift to work before I had a day off. My happy moment was my evening half hour break, sitting down with my feet up and remembering that I had a Timbit in my bag. 

Day 26: Tuesday.

My last of 6 straight shifts (8 hrs-8 hrs-12 hrs-12 hrs-12 hrs-8 hrs), and I was happy it was a quick one. I bought a bottle of wine on the way home to sip while I kicked back. I took the dog for an hour long park play and I was glad to see the sun out. It's a reminder that, despite the quick snowfall we had today and how long this winter has felt, spring is coming. 

My long shadow cast on the slowly melting snow was all the reminder I needed to think happy thoughts of spring. 

 

 

Day 27: Wednesday.

DAY OFF!

I did a whole lot of nothing and then cleaned part of the apartment.

Then finally painted my nails with my new top coat.

I also drank wine on the couch and made a nice dinner and just... relaxed.

 

Day 28: Thursday.

Not quite a day off, but I worked an 8 hour night shift so I had until 10:15 pm to hang out before I had to head ot work.

I slept in with this lazy cuddler who felt it was no big deal to spread out across my side of the bed while we watched some Parks and Rec before we went to the park.

Julie & Julia & Jamie: Chicken Fricassee

For Valentine's Day my wonderful mother got me the movie Julie & Julia as well as the star item of the movie: Mastering the Art of French Cooking - the Julia Child cookbook.

After browsing through the many sections and trying to decide what I wanted to make first, I finally settled on a chicken dish: chicken fricassee.

We had friends over for dinner on Tuesday night so it was the perfect opportunity to try out a new recipe.

Chicken fricassee is kind of somewhere between a stew and a chicken with a creamy sauce poured over it. 

It's delicious and I highly recommend it.

• Season chicken on both sides with salt and pepper. Preheat a Dutch oven or other large heavy pot (I used a soup tureen) over medium-high heat. Add 2 tablespoons butter and 1 tbsp olive oil to the pot. Place the chicken (Julia says use a whole chicken cut into it's parts, I used 4 chicken breasts with bone in and skin on), skin side down, being careful to not crowd the pot. Turn the chicken and continue frying until golden brown on both sides, about 10 minutes then transfer to a plate. Repeat with remaining chicken.
• Reduce heat to medium, and add mirepoix (1 white onion, 1-2 carrots, and 2 stalks celery, all cut up as desired) to pot, scraping up any browned bits with a wooden spoon. Saute, stirring occasionally, until soft and golden brown, about 8 to 10 minutes.
• Add 8 ounces mushrooms, and cook until mushrooms darken, become glossy, and begin to release liquid, 4 to 5 minutes. *Or, if you're like me and dislike cooked mushrooms, skip this step completely.
• Stir in 2 tbsp flour, and cook until flour is absorbed by vegetables, about 1 minute.
• Add 1 cup dry white wine to the pot and bring to a boil, stirring until liquid just thickens. Add 3 cups chicken broth, and stir.
• Place chicken, skin side up, in a single layer on vegetables. Tie parsley sprigs, thyme sprigs, and bay leaf together and add to the pot. Bring to a boil, then reduce to a simmer, covering partially. Cook for 30 to 35 minutes (or until internal temperature of thickest part of chicken registers 165 degrees). 
• In a separate bowl whisk together 2 egg yolks and 1/4 cup heavy cream (I used 18%). Whisking constantly, pour 1/2 cup cooking liquid, 1 tablespoon at a time, into this liaison (sauce thickener) to temper it. This will ensure the eggs don't cook and scramble. Stir the now tempered liaison into the pot.
• Add tarragon, 1 tsp lemon juice, 1 tbsp butter and a pinch of nutmeg. Bring to a simmer, stir gently to combine, and serve.

This is what it looks like on the Martha website for reference.

I forgot to take pictures during the cooking process so this is what it looks like while it's cooking and then my picture of it is the plated finale. I served mine with rosemary and olive oil roasted Parisian potatoes. 

I had to rush home to make dinner because I had spent the day learning.

Learning how to take blood and how to start IVs.

I was pretty successful on the dummy arm so here's hoping I have just as much luck on real people!

The Way we see Addiction (Warning: rant ahead)

I recently came across an article that I felt I needed to share on Facebook. 

It was a piece on the late Philip Seymour Hoffman, written by Russell Brand and published in The Guardian.

Mr. Brand argues that Mr. Hoffman was a victim of 'extremely stupid' drug laws. 

He says,

"Addiction is a mental illness around which there is a great deal of confusion, which is hugely exacerbated by the laws that criminalise drug addicts."

He points out that by making drugs illegal we make drug users criminals. That no self-respecting drug user is going to be deterred by prohibition. That our culture does not know how to treat drug addicts.

You can read the article for yourself here.

I shared this (in my opinion) wonderful article as I felt it provided an important look at addiction from the non-judgemental side. 

A FB friend of mine added a comment that made me quite angry.

"He is dead cause he is a Junkie looking for the ultimate high! ...if he wasn't famous, there would be no story; just another Junkie"

Since everyone is entitled to their own opinion, I posted a respectful response but I felt I still needed to vent a little.

The joys of having a blog. 

Feel free to stop reading here if you prefer the lighter fare. 

I just need to get this off of my chest.

Let's start with some definitions.

(*They aren't properly referenced, don't tell any of my former professors)

1. Addiction (from CAMH) :

" The word “addiction” is often used to refer to any behaviour that is out of control in some way. People often describe themselves as being addicted to, for example, a TV show or shopping. The word is also used to explain the experience of withdrawal when a substance or behaviour is stopped (e.g., “I must be addicted to coffee: I get a headache when I don’t have my cup in the morning”).

However, experiencing enjoyment or going through withdrawal do not in themselves mean a person has an addiction.

Because the term “addiction” is commonly used in such a vague way, there have been many attempts to define it more clearly. One simple way of describing addiction is the presence of the 4 Cs:

• craving
• loss of control of amount or frequency of use 
• compulsion to use
• use despite consequences. "

2. Deserving (from dictionary.com) : 

adjective

1.

qualified for or having a claim to reward, assistance, etc., because of one's actions, 

qualities, or situation: the deserving poor; a deserving applicant.

2.

meriting; worthy: a criminal deserving of a lifetime sentence.

3. Undeserving (from dictionary.com) :

— adjective
	not earned or merited; unwarranted: an undeserved reputation

Have you ever heard the phrase 'deserving' vs 'undeserving' used with respect to health care?

In case you haven't, let me give you an example.

I work with people living with HIV/AIDS.

When the disease first made its appearance, there were two broad categories someone with HIV/AIDS could fall into based on how you acquired the virus.

If you were a haemophiliac and became infected due to a HIV+ blood transfusion, or you were born to an HIV+ mother, guess what? You won the sympathy game. You were deserving of treatment and people's support.

If you were an injection drug user or a gay man, guess what? You asked for it. You brought it on yourself. You were undeserving of the sympathy, you should have been smarter.

Unfortunately this mentality still exists.

You're addicted to alcohol/cocaine/heroin/methamphetamines/prescription pills/etc?

Just stop using them.

Check yourself into rehab.

Get clean for your husband/wife/children/family.

Smarten up.

Simple, right?

Not so much.

The reasons that people start using drugs (I'll use this term broadly to include all drugs and alcohol) are numerous.

Some people use drugs to manage their pain (I have). Some people use drugs because it makes them feel better about themselves, whether because they are shy or because they have a mental health issue like depression or schizophrenia. 

Some of the client's I've worked with have suffered through horrible abuse. 

How many of them have been told they are just another junkie, looking for that ultimate high? How many times have they been brushed off, not taken seriously, stigmatized because they have an addiction?

What if you had grown up in a household where you were sexually and emotionally abused by the people who were supposed to care for you? 

What if the only way to escape that pain, physical and mental, was to numb yourself with drugs?

Seems like these people might deserve our support, right?

What if you tried drugs at a party with your friends and you really liked the way it made you feel?

And what if you kept using those drugs because suddenly you were confident and liked yourself? 

Are these people selfish and undeserving of our support?

You'd be more likely to help and support the man who broke his leg or the man who has cancer than the man who has overdosed, right?
The man with cancer didn't ask for it.

There should be NO classification of the deserving and the undeserving, especially when it comes to who we help and support as a society.

Everyone is deserving.

"...if he wasn't famous, there would be no story"

This is just about the only point in the Facebook comment that I agree with. 

People die everyday from drug addiction and we don't talk about it. 
We walk passed them on the street and toss coins at them or mutter "get a job" under our breath.

Or we say what a shame, what a waste of a life.

He threw it all away for drugs.

Let's use Mr. Hoffman's fame to start talking about the way we see addiction.

Let's use Corey Monteith's fame to generate discussion about why we stigmatize drug use.

Why did it need to be reported that he was found with a needle still in his arm?

Or with 70 bags of heroin around him?

Does that help paint the picture for his friends, family, and fans that he was just another selfish addict who threw his life away to dirty, shameful drugs?

I understand the argument for criminalizing drug use.

I know that to legalize all or aspects of it is an ethical slippery slope.

Personally, I'm an advocate for harm reduction. If I ask a client if they plan to use and they say yes my response is, "do you have clean supplies? Do you know how to use them safely?" 

I don't expect everyone to share this view because I understand that not everyone sees drug use the way I do.

Not everyone is going to sign petitions for a safe injection site in the city.

I get it. 
I do. 
It's not a black and white issue. 

Whether providing a safe location for supervised drug use is a way to decrease rates of HIV, Hep C, overdoses, and drug related violence or whether it is merely sanctioning and promoting dangerous habits - this is a great debate and I encourage people to learn more and talk about it.

But let's not allow our personal beliefs to influence how we support someone with addiction.

I would personally never touch most drugs but does that mean I'm going to judge someone who does?

Not a chance.

I've seen people try to get clean. 

I've seen successes and relapses.

I'll tell you this: it's not easy.

These people aren't just giving up a hobby or a fun weekend. They often have to leave where they live, and cut entire groups of friends and acquaintances out of their lives. 

Then what are they left with?

Where is their support network?

That's why we need more programs and more resources and more education.

We need to stop seeing drug users as criminals, bad people, degenerates.

They are just as deserving of care and compassion, whether they are ready to seek help or not.

"Just another junkie" ?

He was a human being who wasn't perfect, just like everyone else on the planet.

How dare you.

If you or anyone you know has addiction issues or you'd like more information, please visit any of these links:

The Centre for Addiction & Mental Health website

The Canadian Centre on Substance Abuse website

The Addiction Canada website

And Now For Something Completely Different...

This post is a little different from the standard fare of recipes & food, crafts, events, etc but it's something I'd like to share.

This week at work was particularly tough - physically and emotionally.

Death is nothing new to me. In my few years as a student and as a nurse I've seen, prepared, and often shrouded roughly 50 people. It does get easier the more times you do it but it hasn't become so easy that I ever feel completely comfortable doing it.

It's weird knowing that someone who was just there with you isn't there anymore.

The death of a patient (thankfully in my case all my patient deaths have been expected or at least not a complete surprise) becomes even less comfortable when the family are there. It's more emotional and I know nothing I can say or do will make things any easier.

I think I wanted to write this as a way of saying that while it is (usually) always way more emotional for the friends and family of the dying person, there is also a team of health care professionals who are emotionally involved as well.

Unfortunately it isn't always the case, but in a lot of circumstances it is and if people reading this can take away only one message from this post I hope it is this:

Your loved one, in their final moments, even if you're not there, is not alone.

This past week I had a patient who had been admitted for palliative care about 2 months prior. Generally a 'palliative' diagnosis means 3 months or less. I've seen people pass away quicker and I've seen people fight a lot longer. This gentleman seemed like he might be one of the ones who fought for longer than 3 months. He was weak and quite sick but got up to the bathroom independently and would go out for smoke breaks occasionally or out to picnics and other events with friends.

He also had some of the most intense wounds I have ever cared for. I obviously can't reveal too much for fear of somehow breaking confidentiality but this involved a stage 4 sacral ulcer (google it if you're not too queasy), an incredibly deep rectal cavity wound (which required frequent cleaning from bowel movements and then packing with antibiotic-impregnated gauze or packing tape) as well as wounds on the penis, through which the patient's bowel movements eventually began to exude thanks to a fistula. Wound care was not a quick endeavour. And worse, you can probably imagine how painful it was for the patient.

Pain.

We do our best to manage it but sometimes it's hard. Sometimes it's frustratingly hard. This particular patient went through trial after trial on a number of medications, none of which seemed to adequately manage his pain. Especially once he really began to deteriorate. Over the weekend he really began to take a turn for the worse, refusing to eat and barely taking in any fluids. Doing his wound care was absolute agony for him and we all kind of weighed which was the lesser of two evils: making him suffer through an incredibly painful half hour or leaving him to sit in a dirty incontinence brief. When I came back after a day off he had become mostly unresponsive, meaning verbal stimuli and even tactile stimuli wouldn't bring him into a more alert state. But he spent the entire day in undeniable pain despite regularly scheduled medication, breakthrough pain medications, and new orders for other pain meds on top of that. Nothing was working and as the person who was directly responsible for his care that day, I felt awful. Knowing that someone is suffering and you are supposed to be there to ease that suffering is incredibly hard to stomach. Not for the first time and I'm sure not for the last, I silently wished for my patient to just slip away as soon and as peacefully as possible.

The next day he was less responsive and all signs pointed to the end of his suffering coming soon. I gave him as many pain medications as I could even though he didn't look as uncomfortable as he had the day before. I gave him any medication that I thought would help. Something to relax his stiff muscles, something to try to dry up the chest secretions that cause the death rattle.

And I sat with him.

I sat with him for most of the morning, getting up every now and then to check on my other patients. I held his hand and I rubbed his arms and I talked to him. As we tell an unresponsive patient's family and friends, hearing is often the last sense to go.

Eventually his breathing slowed significantly. The health care aide who had come in to sit with me noticed it and we both looked at each other, knowing. We held his hands, told him he had fought bravely and that he could go home for a well deserved rest. Within minutes his chest stopped rising and he had gone. There was no dramatic last breath, no dramatic anything. Just peace.

I think it's been on my mind because of the 50 or so people I've seen die, this was only the second death that I had been physically present for. And it made me think of my own grandfather who passed away in an ICU several years ago. He was lucky to be surrounded by his family, although I wasn't there.

I'm not sharing this to have people say "oh you're so wonderful, how caring of you to be with him in those final moments." That's my job. I'm sharing this because I've seen this many times with other nurses, social workers, doctors, health care aides, and others being there in the final moments.

I'm sharing this to try and make the dying process a little easier for those of you who have or who have had someone they love pass away in the hospital.

I have had a few patients pass away alone, in the early hours of the morning, often when we thought they had more time. I've had patient's go when I was helping another patient. I've had it happen in the time it took me to leave the patient's side to call the family to tell them they should come in. There is no way to say accurately how much time a person has left, and it is similarly impossible to predict exactly when a person who is dying will take their last breath.

But these patients, these mothers/fathers/brothers/sisters/aunts/uncles/children/friends never die alone. They are so many wonderful health care providers who do their best to manage pain but also to manage fear and anxiety and make the unknown a little less scary.

This may sound like a weird thing to say, but death is inevitable and I know in my line of work I'm going to see a lot more of it before I retire. So I'll say it.

I hope I get to hold the hands of many, many more people in their final moments.

Late night/early morning ramblings

It's 0322 hrs.

I'm at work.

Enjoying some peace and quiet (I've definitely just jinxed it).

I'm in the middle of a very long string of night shifts and while I'm thankful for the pay cheque that will be coming my way, I really miss my bed.

 

I've been trying to sneak in naps, including on my breaks, but I find I can't fall asleep for such short periods and if I do I wake up feeling much worse than if I just hadn't slept in the first place.

 

I have been enjoying my breaks though with this book:

 

 

I'm about half way through it and really enjoying it.

 

I've also been sticking (more or less) to a gym routine.

This week I've been sneaking off to the gym before I even go upstairs to my apartment.

It makes crawling into bed afterward that much more satisfying.

Preparation for this:

 

 

I've been trying to eat better too. I made a raspberry pomegranate chicken thingy for dinner which turned out quite good. I'd post the recipe but it's as easy as this:

1. Cook chicken

2. Cut into peices and put into frying pan. Add 1/4 cup raspberry vinegrette and pomegranate seeds (called arils, strangely enough) and cook on med-high until the chicken looks nicely coated.

 

I need to start posting more regularly (and more about more interesting things) but don't expect me to make good on that until Monday at the earliest.

 

Although if tomorrow night is quiet I might post some recipes for cheesecake (I got some in the mail today and proceeded to salivate for several minutes).

 

I was google searching nursing for a funny night shift picture but instead I found these bad boys.

All of which made me laugh.

Fellow RNs/RPNs enjoy - everyone else take note (haha)

 

Yuuuup. Or sleep-deprived the morning after the last night shift so that I'll sleep on a regular schedule again.

 

Haha this reminds me of one of my first night's on the unit when a nurse told me to give a patient haldol even though they weren't agitated and I didn't feel right just dosing them up with sedatives to make MY life easier.... a decision, while morally/ethically right, I regretted several hours later. 

But also I'd be chasing this Doc down to get him to complete the order. PO? SC?

My clinical instructor in second year more or less told me this was how she got her revenge on A-holes while working in the ER.

Terrifying.

But seriously. We can pick the biggest ones.

 

Midazolam. Sleep, dear patient. Sleeeeeeeep.

 

I might be this mother.

But probably not because I'm an RN AND a hypochondriac.

 

Dear God my hands have never been so dry as they are at the end of an 8 or 12 hour shift, having washed my hands an estimated 100+ times.

 

On a palliative unit.... this rings very true.

 

"Please don't get up. Sit back down. Use the call bell for assistance. WHEEEEOOOO WHEEEEOOO WHEEEOOO" - the bed alarms.

Most annoying when people readjust themselves juuuuuust off of the sensor so it's going crazy for no reason.

Or when you actually run like a maniac because the bed alarm you hear is the guy who's fallen out of bed 3 times already that week.

 

 

That's enough for now but there are so many other funny and oh-so true ones that I came across.

 

Better posts soon!

Gotta go draw up some morphine & dilaudid injections.

 

(smallest needle size)

 

Good News / Bad News

Good News:

I went for a run this morning after weeks and weeks of making excuses. My first since January!

Bad News:

I ran for 31 minutes and thought I was going to die. I have a 10k to run in 2 weeks. I definitely won't break the 50 minute mark this year.

Good News:

I've been cleaning the apartment like a fiend lately. It's really starting to look neat again nd I'm enjoying this decluttering process. Also: not pregnant! Not nesting.

Bad News:

Everything is covered in dust and everything remaining is John's and I can't (in good conscience) throw out his stuff (without him getting mad). But I don't think he's going to read 14 back issues of Ontario Out of Doors magazine. Right? He probably will. On the table they stay.

Good News:

I got a call from a hospital asking me to come in a write a med quiz next week - the first step in the hiring process! AH! It's also on a palliative unit that I would really love to work on. My best friend is a Social Worker on that unit and she put in a good word for me (I love her, I'm going to buy her a yacht).

Bad News:

It's a quiz. I have to pass with 80% or more. I hate medication calculations. I need to start studying for this quiz now because my potential future employment depends on it!

So this is me.

From now until Wednesday May 2nd.

And then again until June 6th when I write the CRNE.

I'll be cooking up a storm on Friday night/Saturday morning in preparation for my best friend's Stag & Doe so this weekend expect a cooking post (finally).

Stressed. Out. Already.

WARNING: This post is a rant with a recipe thrown in at the end. If you're looking for my usual upbeat, more positive ramblings I suggest you come back tomorrow. I'm going to get this off my chest then go give myself a get-over-it pep talk. But for now....

I don't think I've ever been this stressed out during any of the 21 years I've been a student, especially after only having one class so far.

I know that no one person is to blame and I don't like complaining but after the number of confusions and problems I (and the other 499 nursing students) have encountered...well, this year better be smooth sailing from now on.

First:

My school messed up almost everyone's clinical placements. One woman (or so it seems) was in charge of relaying placement information to the students. Unfortunately there was an unexpected death in her family and she had to leave the country. Understandable. I've had to reschedule 2 exams because of unexpected deaths so I do not in any way harbour hard feelings towards this woman. What I don't get is why one woman was given this huge responsibility. She must have been working alone because once she left, Ryerson was left fumbling to get placement information out to the students.

The vast majority of us only learned of our placements this past week. I found out Friday night around 5 pm. Source of stress number one. It was only amplified when I kept getting timed-out of the website where my placement information was posted. Thank goodness one of my friends logged in for me on her computer and gave me the good news. She's a stress life-saver.

Second:

I emailed my preceptor and s/he is on vacation until the 25th of this month. I get it, we're all entitled to holidays and I'll be the first one to advocate for well deserved time off. But I'm going to go ahead and assume that my learning was not just SURPRISE! sprung upon this nurse. I assume they asked or were notified of this opportunity. So...I've got another 2 weeks off before I can go into the hospital. I did register for an orientation training on the 23rd so I probably wouldn't have been able to go onto the unit for a shift before then anyway. Finding the positives.

Third:

My schedule has my conference time with my faculty advisor (FA) on Mondays from 4-6. We were not assigned to FAs until our placements had been sorted out. I only found out who my FA is about twenty minutes ago. After 4 pm. I emailed various lead teachers trying to make sure I hadn't missed some important email because my name had been spelled wrong or because I had completely overlooked an obvious post on our school's intranet site. If you know me (or my mother, or grandmother, or probably any female from the Woods/McIntyre gene pool) I don't like to be late. To the point where it causes me anxiety. So to not know where I needed to be going until after the scheduled time....I was medicating with potato chips.

Finding the positives: I have contacted my FA and she seems wonderful. There is no meeting this week and information for next week's meeting will be sent out in plenty of time.

Fourth:

I registered for an online history course so that I could avoid having to go in to school. Not because I'm lazy (only partially) but mostly because I need time to work and save money. I registered for the course because it was the same professor I had for the espionage course I took last semester and I really enjoyed posting online every week and discussing the concepts. After not being able to access the online content until this afternoon (stress source 4a) I learned that this course is not a 14 week course but a 7 week course (stress source 4b). That means 2 weeks of material crammed into each week. First assignment due at the end of next week, essay due by week 5 or 6 and the final exam at the end of October/early November.

Oh F*#k.

What have I done?

Finding the positives: I'll be free to focus on practice and theory all of November and December. There's no postings to be done, just readings and 2 assignments to submit. I enjoy reading....um, grasping for straws here, need more positives....I've taken numerous WWII era history courses before...?

That's it for now.

I'm going to watch True Blood and try and lower my blood pressure.

But first I promised a recipe!

Comfort Soup

(for the Stressed Soul)

(recipe from allrecipes.com here)

• Place 4 peeled and quartered russet potatoes in a large pot and cover with salted water. Bring to a boil over high heat, then reduce heat to medium-low, cover, and simmer until tender, about 20 minutes. Drain.
• Meanwhile, heat a large Dutch oven over medium-high heat and stir in 4 links of hot Italian sausage (casings removed). Break up the sausage and cook, stirring until the sausage is crumbly, evenly browned, and no longer pink. Remove the sausage to drain on a paper towel-lined plate.
• Stir 1 large onion (diced) into the sausage drippings; cook and stir until the onion has softened and turned translucent, about 5 minutes. Stir in 1 bunch kale (chopped), and cook and stir for 2 minutes. Pour in 6 cups chicken stock, then stir in the sausage and potatoes, and return to a simmer. Stir in 1/4 cup hot sauce just before serving.