over 365 days now

A kind blogger friend sent me an email to check to see if I was still kicking. I was answering her email when the vomit below came pouring off the ends of my fingertips and it became way more than just a quick email response so I thought I would share with all of you. Lucky, huh?

I have fallen off the face of the earth. Somehow yesterday was July and now Thanksgiving is almost here. Things have been great and awful at the same time. Our oldest was married on the beach in North Carolina three weeks ago and because the bride’s parents are completely narcissistic they were no help in planning the wedding so she asked me to help. It was so much fun but so completely stressful.....because along with them not helping her with plans, there was no money flowing either. (They are fine...both just bought new cars, remodeled a basement, vacationed in the Caribbean....etc) They are really good at talking about how much they adore her but her needs are not important. (To clarify...my son and his new bride wanted just an intimate 20 people---family only---ceremony on the sand with some picnic food after so it wasn't like she was asking for a princess wedding). So because of their "ways" the parents ended up adding to the guest list till it was doubled and still only coughed up the bucks for cupcakes and 1/2 of her dress alteration fee. The kids paid as much as they could, but by the time all was arranged it cost us an assload of money.  

 

The reason I even mention all this is because of the "awful" part in third sentence here.....my hubby has now been without work for one year. His last day of work was one year ago last Thursday. To say this has put a strain on the marriage is like saying dogs smell when they are wet. Our income is literally cut in half, our bills have gone up and my husband is home, EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. More than the money situation sucking, having him here all the fucking time is driving me batshit crazy.

 

You know how prisoners are put on suicide watch and checked every 15 minutes, well that's my life right now. I'm not suicidal though....homicidal maybe. I literally can't even go into the bathroom without him asking me something through the door (kinda like a 2-year-old who needs you RIGHT NOW to ask where the remote for the tv is). He has applied for jobs, been interviewed then shocked when they passed him over. HELLO????? he's 58. Too young to retire forever but too old for most employers to even take a look at him or his credentials. There is a job possibility right now that if it doesn't happen I seriously don't know how I will handle it. We are fighting like we never have before. During our last one he said something really nasty (that's his way of fighting) and I started to laugh like a lunatic (short line between sanity and crazy) and when he said "what do you want, do you want me to leave?" I told him that was hysterical because we can't even afford to get divorced. Seriously. I have become a master at shutting down any feelings and am existing on remote control. (learned long ago as a child and has come in handy this year). When I ask him to please quit using the credit card for things (he's bored so he heads to the big home repair store) that we don't have to have right now, he gets irritated and says he is just fixing things up now that he "has time". The little things that needed fixing would take a weekend....not a year....and the real things that need fixing need an actual trained contractor person which is expensive.

I am hoping that things change soon or I will get to the point emotionally where there won't be any bouncing back and that my heart will be so stuck in irritation and annoyance that the love will have been smothered completely. Honestly, I just need some privacy in my own home. I can't go to the bathroom, can't head up to bed 30 minutes early to read, etc etc....I have a 6 foot tall puppy on my heel all the time. It's sad when going to work becomes my escape instead of the other way around. (as a side note...my blood pressures are great at work, when I check them here at the house they are always crazy high....wonder if there's a connection.)

If I had a fork it would be stuck in his eye

I am so blown away by the lack of common sense that BigD has. This morning he tells me that he was talking to *best friend* who is a car dealer. Great guy..love him to death. He took a teensy stuggling lot and over the past 15 years has grown exponentially and been named one of the best dealers in the country. Like I said, great guy and we have been friends since the beginning.

Anyway. BigD has a huge gas sucking monster of a vehicle. (2006-J.eep C.omm.ander)We have talked several times over the past year about him downsizing but because he had a work car provided and the gas sucker wasn't used that often we never did anything about it. So, BigD approached *best friend* and told him since retirement (ie-no take-home company car) he has been burning through the gas and he wanted to get something more economical. Sounds good and common sensish so far right?
Well *BF* said he would buy the sucker outright for $9000 and get BigD into a brand spankin new auto lease with no money down. BigD thought this sounded terrific.

WHA?

You are going from NO car payment to a car payment every month for 3 years, and at the end of that time either give the car back or come up with the equivalent of about $10,000 to buy it out. (For clarification, I HATE car payments and haven't had one in many many years...if I don't have the money for it, I don't get it)

What part of this bullshit does he not get??

*BF* told him the cash upfront he would be giving BigD for the sucker would cover the payments for two years. HELLO? Remember BigD isn't working right now and his retirement checks blow. I am holding it all together but am nearing stroke stage balancing all the monetary balls in the air.

MY plan was to trade the sucker for a used (ie low miles, good shape 2009, 2010 or so) car. Almost evensteven.

The REAL kicker? *BF* is giving us $9000 for the above sucker.....even in fair shape they b.lue boo.k at $11,500. In Excellent shape it's $13, 900. Thats trade in. For selling outright they range is from $13,600-$16,100. This sucker is in fabulous condition (see above where I said it was only used on weekends and for personal use locally, not even back and forth to work).

I'm so pissed, I'm shaking pissed. I put it all down on paper for BigD in simple language. I told him if he thinks I am being a bitch, TOUGH. He actually listened and thanked me for giving him the facts. This is why I pay our bills, plan our vacations, etc etc. He doesn't research a fucking thing, especially when it comes to mens toys with motors...everything from cars to weed-whackers..if it's shiny and loud it MUST be a great find.

Having said that, he just drove out to go talk to *BF* and if BigD comes home in a brand new spankin leased vehicle you will hear about me on the news tonight. I will be the wife arrested for killing her husband by jamming a car up his ass.

You waited till NOW to tell me?

So. We have had a few continuing sagas here at chez OHN. I will touch upon one today. FDIL (future-daughter-in-law) called me to ask my opinion about an issue she is upset about. We get along great and in fact she is usually the one pushing S1 to come to our home for the weekend to eat all our food visit. She has a somewhat complicated relationship with her family. She is very close with her paternal g-rents as she lived with them when her mom and dad split when she was in middle school. I haven't met mom, though have seen photos and she is stunning. Dad is HAWT. No two ways about it. His muscles have muscles, and he is styling. He oozes sex appeal and loves to be noticed. He walks with the gait of a man that knows people are looking. Sorry--- I digress.
So, here is the current issue. FDIL and S2 are keeping the wedding very small. Family only, on the beach, about 12 hours from here to keep the unwanteds away  keep it intimate. FDIL's mother has told FDIL and S2 that her good friend Sassy will be driving to the wedding with her and they are renting a place there for the week. At first I thought, oh, how nice. Then FDIL and S2 told me that Sassy is loud, obnoxious and they don't want her anywhere near the wedding. Hmmmm. So, they want her to drive 12 hours, rent a place for a week and then tell her she can't come to the wedding? Touchy. But sensing the vehemence of which FDIL and S2 can't stand this woman I told FDIL that she should be honest with her mom and tell her that just because mom is friends with Sassy, FDIL doesn't have to be, and even though mom feels like Sassy is family, she actually isn't and that BigD and I have many friends we consider family but we are abiding by the decision that the wedding is family only. Just giving her some things she can use to help her mom maybe understand.
FDIL thanked me (we had three or four convos about this subject) and I related my own invite/don't invite wedding nightmare story (for a later date) and she said it really helped.
Last night I am talking to S1 and asked if FDIL got it all straightned out with her mom and he said no. Well, I continued to tell him that it is THEIR wedding, neither stunning mom nor HAWT dad are paying a dime towards any of it so S1 and FDIL had every right to determine who gets an invite and who doesn't. Just my opinion. I wasn't telling them what to do, just answering their question.
THEN, S1 lands the BOOM. If I had this info at the beginning when the "what should we do" question was first posed my answer would likely have been different.
Apparently, though not openly discussed, it is highly suspected that stunning mom and Sassy are *more than friends*. Yep. Apparently when HAWT dad and stunning mom were divorced and dad moved out.....Sassy moved in..... and has been a continuous presence in their world. So after S1 dating FDIL for a couple years, getting engaged, and them spending countless weekends here eating all of our food  visiting, I am just hearing that his future MIL is probably g.ay. Honestly I don't care who loves who (or is it whom?), everyone deserves to be loved. I just can't believe that that teesy weensy detail was left out of the question posed to me about whether Sassy should be invited. Holy shit kids, yeah. If stunning mom is in a relationship then Sassy should be invited....just as HAWT dad's bitchy wife will be going. If in fact stunning mom is actually g.ay. She hasn't actually told her family, but everyone seems to believe it is so.
If she is...... she is not only NOT out of the closet, but the door is locked with a padlock.
This is beginning to sound like a S.pringer episode.

Day 149

That's how many days it has been since I have had any time by myself, and let me tell you, it's really getting to me. I just want to have some peace and quiet for cripes sake. Yesterday I was in the bathroom *relaxing* and BigD is yelling 'where are you' and when I yelled back (a little more irritated than I probably should have been) that I was in the bathroom, he followed up with 'are you okay'. Good god man, I'm pooping okay? LEAVE ME ALONE.

On most weekends the boys come home and now they bring their girls with them. I am bitching about my kids coming home. How horrid am I??? I LOVE having them here, but with BigD not working and his retirement checks are much smaller than his paychecks were, the cost of feeding seven people is huge. Not to mention the continuously empty hot water tank from endless showers, dish-washing, laundry (they do their own but with my machine), the uptick in electric use, needing the heat in the house turned up because someone is whining they are cold (while someone else is opening a window because they are hot)......and the list goes on and on. BigD won't eat anything that is considered take-out, even veggie pizza with minimal cheese so ordering in usually isn't an option so that means trying to make enough food that there is at least one thing that every person will eat. Difficult, time consuming and expensive. When I suggest that they all go out to eat nobody wants to go citing cost (really? hmmmmm) and they eat out during the week and want to eat mom's cooking. Veiled compliments. My cooking is not outstanding, it's more likely they are cheap.

So as I mentioned BigD has been home now for 149 days. He is looking for work but with his credentials there aren't too many places to go except for some gov't agency or security at a corporate level and guess what......hey aren't jumping on hiring a 57 year old. Imagine that. So, as of midnight last night we have NO health insurance. It's insane. We still have a 22 year old and 17 year old that are likely to need medical attention (the 17 year old has to go to the doc tomorrow because I looked at his sore throat today and it sure looks like strep to me). This same 17 year old plays sports and we have never gotten through a season of anything without an injury that needs at least one x-ray or round of physical therapy. Not to mention the fact that BigD had heart surgery 130 days ago. (He recovered faster than most cases of flu. No shit.) Technically he is very healthy and is doing great but it's still scary and nauseating to think that something like that could happen now with no coverage and it would be a financial nightmare to pay for.

The worst thing of all is him being home. every. single. day. We had a MAJOR blowout a couple of weeks ago. I came completely unglued after three ten hour days at work (I literally am on my feet the entire time except for lunch) and came home to him sitting on his ass (daily routine to that point) playing word games on his phone. The dishwasher was full of clean dishes, laundry was stacked up the entire height of the washer, dog hair everywhere that needed to be vacuumed...etc etc etc. I gently asked him if he felt depressed...giving him the benefit of the doubt since he is not working, had surgery etc it would be understandable. Unfortunately for him he said with a smile "No, not at all. I feel great". That was the final stab. I lost it.

I asked if he had any idea how hard it is for me to work long hours and come home and have to do 100% of everything on the home front while he sits on his fucking phone all day. He got defensive, I got louder. He had the nerve to tell me that HE has worked all these years. I had to remind him that I worked AND raised three boys, AND kept us all afloat on our incomes, AND taken care of everything on the homefront all at the same time. He said that my *job* was easy and he would have traded with me. That's when I said a huge FUCK YOU and the gloves came off. S3 heard lots of things he shouldn't have heard. Am I proud of it? No. Am I sorry? No. All of my points were entirely valid and I am not one to say something I don't mean in the heat of the moment. I mean every word. He is a very mean, belittling arguer bringing up digs and insults that have nothing to do with the situation. BigD later told S3 that he and I both said things we didn't mean. I later told S3 that I meant every word. He smiled. He sees what his dad is and isn't doing and is learning great lessons from it. All of the boys have witnessed the inequity in the responsibilities and are well aware they need to be better husbands. If I haven't done anything else in life that I am proud of, raising my boys to be good husbands is one thing I can put a check mark by.

So for the past two weeks since the fight I have come home to the dishwasher being unloaded and reloaded (the wrong way but I rearrange because that's not a battle I want to have--but seriously, why doesn't he realize they go back in he same places they came out of??), the bed has actually been stripped twice (no clean sheets on the bed because he didn't know where they were-----same closet for the last 20 years ) and there is other evidence that for at least an hour out of the ten I am gone he has done something other than play games. It's a start.

I just really really really want the house to myself for an entire day. I am a simple woman. Let me watch a movie or a show on my very full DVR without comments like "this is a stupid show" or "that would never happen" or "why do you watch this show?". Yeah. They must be worse than the one with turtle catching man, that he watches marathons of....sigh. We have more TV's in this house than we should, yet everyone congregates in my home office to watch. I told BigD last night that I was going to watch a show I had recorded and got all of the above comments before the first commercial. It really wrecks the flow of my focus on whatever I am watching when I hear snickers, mumbled comments, and I can actually feel eye rolls. Yes. Yes I can.

I made myself a deal. When BigD lands his next gig, and I have a for certain date that will be his first day gone, I am taking the day off to celebrate. Alone.

JUST. SHOOT. ME.

BigD has been home since November 3rd. That's when he had his s.tress test, from there we went to h.eart cath, then on to triple by.pass. Today, in case you aren't near a calendar, is Feb 4th. Don't bother getting your calculator it's 92 days. 92 days.

He has been talking to all his buds at the office and hearing about all the political crap going on, people with stellar records being transferred to different divisions on a whim, grievances being filed for blatant disregard of union rules, the general pulse of the department being total shit and while he has been sharing all this with me I never expected what was about to come.

He walked in my office two weeks ago and told me "I am retiring". Okay, on the surface you would think that's not all bad. He has been in this job for over 30 years so he deserves to retire.......but this is a man that has absolutely no concept of money. I took over our finances many years ago because he never had a clue that when you get a bill it needs to be paid by a certain date or the service is discontinued. We actually had our heat turned off once. Humiliating, stupid and really hard to explain to the kids without telling them their college educated dad is a doofus. I didn't suspect the cause was lack of payment so I called a furnace guy who came out and checked the furnace and couldn't find anything wrong and jokingly asked me if we paid the bill. I got that sick feeling in my stomach but laughed and said something stupid and sent him on his way. Yep, BigD said he *thought* he paid it. It wasn't that we couldn't afford it, he just never got around to it. The man is actually two different people. The professional who is always on spot then the guy that lives in my house.

So when he tells me he is retiring I asked him what they told him at the S.tate R.etirement Board. He hadn't called them yet. I asked if we will have insurance through them. He didn't know. (reminder.....he just had a $97,000+ surgery so you never know when you will need to tap into that insurance reserve). He simply doesn't think about any of this stuff. *Someone*(another clueless individual) told him that he will get 80% of his pay for r.etirement then asked me if that would cover our expenses. Sure. But you mean after taxes right? Blank stare "I THINK so". UGH. So I called the r.etirement board, had the info sent and found out the facts.

He will get 60% of his pay of which we will be taxed at a high rate because he is still too young to retire. (before age 59 it is higher). As for health coverage, sure they will let us into the retirement group policy for a mere $1200 a month. This will kick in after we pay the first $10,000 of any medical expenses every year. (People I have been saying this for years, if you have medical coverage given to you by your employer....it's gold....say thank you and quit bitching that it doesn't cover a few little things here and there).

So needless to say BigD and I have had many discussions the past couple of weeks. Firstly I told him he shouldn't be making any life altering decisions right after a life altering surgery. Then I had to sit him down like a ten-year-old and explain addition and subtraction. Here are our standard monthly bills. Here is what our income will be. Lets see if it works. Nope. Doesn't.

He then looked at me with puppy eyes and welled up. It was heartbreaking. This is a guy that is in the dictionary under the words "man's man". Sure I have seen his soft side many times before but the last couple of years it has really been evident. He is finally telling me how much he appreciates all that I do, manage, control, organize etc etc. It's so nice to hear. Now I am wondering if I have made things too easy for him. A little like giving an alcoholic *just one* drink. I have allowed him (though as stated before--out of necessity) to skate through without a care. I get all the checks, take care of everything, and have probably given the illusion that it's easy because I am not a wavemaker. (Really :-). Well the boat is capsizing and the only thing that will save it is enough cash to plug the damn hole in the starboard side.

He has spent this last week or two putting out feelers. His pedigree is amazing. I knew he was smart --he picked me after all--but once we put together his resumé and listed all of his continuing ed courses (everything from fb.i sw(a)t, to pr,esidental sec.urity for the first George (bush, not washington) when he was in our area....BigD looks tremendous on paper. In fact, he was called back by a company that offered him $15 an hour to sit and watch a security monitor. He looked at me with those eyes that said 'should I take it' and I slowly shook my head. While he needs a j.o.b. he doesn't need to go backwards 30 years. Apparently my little math lesson made an impact.

Because of my financial queen-ness I have been able to stash away a few bucks for an emergency. I am not sure we have reached emergency status but if we do, BigD may yet be looking at a monitor.

(For those of you sitting there thinking that I am a bitch and why don't I get a better job....I actually start on Tuesday for a great team of docs. I spent the majority of my post college years raising humans and have recently found out there isn't much available in that job market so I take what I can get....also, just so you know...he has completely recovered from the surgery, so much so that he should be the poster child for by.pass surgery. He had NO issues with recovery and the doc said he is blown away by BigD's health and expects him to live another 30 years----unless I kill him of course).

wild and wacky day

Okay, so lets recount the past 24 hours shall we?

When we last spoke I was whining about the unprofessional, vibrating office. Since that time many things have happened.

BigD had his final doc appointment before being cut loose to return to life as previously scheduled. All went well and he is allowed to return to work though he has decided that another two weeks at home would be nice (just shoot me now) so he won't actually be unglued to me until the end of the month.

Before heading to his appointment I printed out my updated resumé and instead of faxing it to the office that is looking I decided to drop it off in person. They know me, but just in case they needed a facial recognition I wanted to have that going for me.

My quick in and out drop off turned into an hour long interview with three supervising staff members culminating with a job offer. The ad for the position hasn't hit the papers yet. It begins tomorrow. Yes, I know, I should have bought a lottery ticket on my way home.

The job was actually more full time than part-time so I initially turned it down, but we continued talking and they decided to fill it with two 25 hour people instead of one 40 hour person. Me being one of the 25 hour people. J.ob-sharing is a wonderful thing. We agreed on a salary, they offer free o.ptical and d.ental even for part-timers, there is a very generous u.niform allowance, 401.k, profit sharing....and the list goes on and on.

So lesson #1---if you aren't happy with where you are do something about it. Speak up. If you don't try, you will never know.

Then I called the doc I am leaving. I figured I owed it to him to explain why I was leaving and that it wasn't his fault. We talked a very loooooong time and he understands completely and said he has been trying to have changes made but his suggestions and requests are falling on deaf ears. So, like I said, sadly he is stuck.

I then called and left a message for the manager to call me back so I could tell her I wouldn't be there today (because of sickness, not because of the fact that I am quitting) and she never got the message. Ah yes. Another typical drop the ball event in that office. If I were a patient there, I would go screaming into the night. I guarantee you, someone will be misdiagnosed or a diagnosis will be missed because of the lack of follow through. Glad I won't be there to witness it.

So, she called me this morning and APOLOGIZED to me for the work conditions at the office. Doc had told her that he and I had talked so she already knew. It was nice I didn't have to tell her because I probably would have over-shared my review of the practice. This way, I could leave quietly, no fanfare, and a touch of class.

The invisible weight has been lifted from my shoulders but all the stress of the past several weeks has caught up with me and I feel like crap. I am off to find a cure for what ails me.

dilldough and other office talk

Yes, I know it isn't really spelled that way but if I put in the correct spelling I would get too many goog hits from sexually frustrated people.

The title actually reflects the first conversation that the office staff discussed my first day at the new job. No shit. The office is so small you can't even whisper without patients hearing and these girls are discussing their vibration devices like they were discussing mocha vs vanilla latté. There are five of us in an area suited for two. Chairs can't be slid back enough to get up without hitting the person behind you.

Yesterday the manager was on the phone YELLING at her boss with the window open and an overflow of patients in the waiting room. I made eye contact with the doc and he and I were both slackjawed during the fifteen minute phone argument. He is disgusted. I am disgusted. He is stuck. I am not. When I was just about at my breaking point (sanity wise.....I actually like the job but the drama is unbelievable) doc said to me with a glaze in his eye that he made a huge mistake joining this group. He is an employee just like me. But, I have the ability to move on and he is screwed. There are too many reasons to list here why he can't go backwards, but he can't. The ink is dry on his employee status----and they are treating him like one as well. Meetings are being held and he is not "invited" as it is a partner meeting. It has to be humiliating for him after having a successful practice for 30 years. He took some very bad advice from someone he shouldn't have listened to and joined this mega-group. As of this point, there have been no advantages for him. I take that back. No instead of being on call every other weekend, it is every third. He sold his soul to the devil for an extra weekend. He really should have done more research before making the leap. If nothing else, this is a perfect example of letting someone else make a big decision for you.

Since we are the "new guys" so to speak at the office we need to adapt to the way things are done there, which is fine, I go with the flow---except that pulling out pen.is shaped chocolate at the front desk and eating it lovingly in full view of patients is beyond my comprehension of a professional work environment.

In two days I have found out which vi.brators are the 'best'; which bars in the area have the best beer/and guys to pickup (this advice came from one of the girls that I found out yesterday is married) and apparently it is okay to yell shit when the person next to you is on the phone with a patient. I happened to be the one on the phone, not the one saying shit, just to clarify. Though there have been many moments I would have liked to yell it too.

I was telling a friend who works in a sane office how ridiculous this place is and yesterday she left me a voicemail that she mentioned to her manager my situation and the manager told her to call me and have me get my resumé to her today. They know me so I have a shot at actually being offered a position. If my charming nature and the fact that I am willing to plead on bended knee do me any good, I may be posting soon about another new job. If not, I will post the name of the best vi.brator according to the current staff.

doctor visit

Needless to say this entire weekend sucked for me. Unfortunately since BigD caught me crying he turned into a ridiculous annoying mess himself. I know so many women that would kill for a man fawning over you, staring at you, talking to you while you sleep, grab you and pull you in for a hug because you simply manage to walk out of the bathroom, tell you he loves you 80 fucking gazillion times in three days, but....for ME, while it is all very sweet, it is also terribly irritating.

The moment I would finally be focused on something other than my potential cancer diagnosis, he would be looking at me with his moist eyes and it would throw me right back into my own terror mode. I had to ask him over and over to PLEASE quit asking me "how are you". The odd part is that for the first half of our marriage he was very non-demonstrative and actually rather unsupportive of me. My job was never as important as his, the house was never quite clean enough, the infertility was 'my' problem and I needed to 'get over it' etc. You get the point. But, in the past few years he has found his feminine side and has been discussing feelings and has told me that he really realizes that I did an amazing job raising our children...etc. Yep, real honest to god feelings.

Part of me really likes the change. The other part....the part that is worried...wants him to shut the fuck up and go to another room. I walked into our bedroom last night and he was sitting on the bed staring at a photo of the boys and he was crying. Sweet jeebus he is lucky I didn't chuck the loaded laundry basket I was carrying right at his head.

When I am worried is doesn't help to see terror on someone elses face. I was worried all weekend that the boys would see or hear him and then they would know there was a problem and I had an issue I was checking into. I asked BigD to please not tell them. I truly think that was tough for him because he wants to 'share' his concern.

Now, keep in mind that he had surgery six weeks ago yesterday, and was home for two weeks prior to that so he has been here eight weeks and I am really ready for him to go back to work. God help me when he retires someday.

So, this morning I drove 45 miles to the big city hospital and met with the Maxillofacial Surgeon. He shot numbing spray up my nose but didn't bother to wait until it numbed before shoving a long lighted scope up into my brain (well, he stopped short of the brain, but just barely and yes it felt exactly like you think it would) He then did these amazing moves with two tongue depressors...kinda ninja like moves...holding, twisting, lifting, pushing and told me that the things I am concerned about he doesn't feel are cancer. He has no explanation for the intermittent funky smell as my max.illary sinuses look okay, the lesion on my tongue he feels is an area that healed oddly after having been lacerated (ie: bitten when I was shoveling in food at some point), and the pain along the entire rim of my tongue and the sunburn feeling on the top surface of my tongue are all non-issues. If you have any clues as to what I can do to alleviate the edge pain and/or burning feeling, feel free to share.

So, there you have it. My entire 4 day weekend sucked, I aged 50 years, had to deal with a husband that was moved to tears a.l.l.w.e.e.k.e.n.d and had to take my first day of work at a new job off because they don't call in people from their other locations for just 1/2 day so I had to take the entire day off.

This was so bad this weekend that in my imagination I was going to be the female version of R.oger E.bert (if you don't know who he is, goog his image post surgery) and had decided to make a personal video for each of the boys so they could remember not only what I looked like *before* but also hear my voice because I was certain I would lose that too.

If nothing, I have learned to stay the hell away from the computer and let someone who actually graduated with a medical degree decide my health course. But, you can bet your butt that I am going to keep an eye on my oral situation because I also know that not every doctor graduates at the top if his class. Think about it. Every graduating class has the one (or ten) that the other grads are shaking their heads about, thinking "how in the hell did he/she graduate"? I also have another appointment for a second opinion scheduled for tomorrow (made the same time I made todays appt) that I will probably keep. Crazy? Maybe, but read the second sentence of this paragraph again.

Thank you for your well wishes and kind comments. It sounds stupid because we haven't met, but it really did boost my sagging mood to read that you care.

I don't know where to begin

2011 was an interesting year. A full year of job fluctuation stress that I really don't have the strength to go into here but it's safe to say I aged twelve years in the past one. BigD had triple bypass surgery that really was completely unexpected (he isn't old, doesn't drink or smoke, isn't overweight (well not really), blood pressures have always been normal to low normal, etc etc. Then bam. One small thing led to a Thanksgiving week bypass and many weeks of him being home and wanting to be at my side when I am not at work. Of course that means he is camped out in my home office when I am here and if any of you want to know anything about Stora.ge Wars, Am.erican Chopper, or The Turt.le Man just ask. I bought myself a nice TV a year ago for my office to watch "my" shows now my remote is programed for the above.

2012 isn't starting out much better. I have an appointment Tues morning with a specialist in head and neck cancer. Long story short, for 6-8 months I have had a constant subtle smell that smells like a dirty ashtray or the smell you get when you first turn on your furnace in the fall. A little stale, metallic etc. Anyhooo, my doctor was on a sabbatical (ie: state mandated 90 day probation.....-she got turned into the state medical board by a pissed off wife because the doc had a fling with the pissed off wife's husband) Hey, I don't care who she bonks as long as I am not in the exam room when it happens....she is a good doc and knows her shit. Anyway, in researching this "smell" issue I have discovered that it typically happens in people that have cancer in the head and neck.

Anyway, I just tried to ignore what I thought was a sinus infection and waited till she got back. I went in got a script for an anti-biotic, which subsequently caused th.rush in my mouth. (for those of you that have little ones that get it from nursing, get it treated because it hurts. I feel terrible I never took it seriously when my guys got it--I didn't know that it made them uncomfortable). ANYWAY...she then gave me two back to back scripts for an oral medication to swish around to take it away. When it didn't really help I started looking things up. Dr. G.oogle is my friend and worst enemy.

All the while, and for up to a year I have had a little reddish/pinkish raised soft spot on my tongue that I figured was from using my tongue as a stress meter all year and smashing it against my teeth. I think I may take up nail biting instead.

After doing some research I am seriously, very seriously, concerned I have oral c.ancer. Of the dozen symptoms I have too many. I googled a photo of a tongue cancer and up popped a photo of a tongue with the same pinkish/reddish raised soft spot, in the exact area where it is prevalent, (side of the tongue in case you want to run to the bathroom and check your tongue). The photo could have been a photo of my tongue. No shit.

My tongue hurts around the entire edge, back to front to back, it has started to burn off and on, and the real kicker is that tongue cancers are squ.amous cell. If you look back to a new years post a couple years back, remember I got the call on new years eve that my "it doesn't look like anything" (according to the dermatologist) lesion came back as sq.uamous cell. If you remember it was also in an area that NEVER EVER has seen sunshine.

So, on Tuesday which is supposed to be my first day at my new job in a very face paced, high stress office, I had to tell the boss that I wouldn't be there, as I am going for a biopsy. Fuck. I am going to be tagged the problem child from day one.

So for the past week I have been crying in the shower, zoning out when I have many things to do, and thinking about the fact that if it is oral CA, according to my research it is the 6th deadliest cancer killing one person every hour and only 50% of people survive five years. Who knew?? I have a son getting married this year, I want to retire someday and take real vacations, I want to babysit for grand-kids, well---the list is longer than you can imagine. Until now the thought of looking at my tongue for anything abnormal (and who the hell knows what that means) never even crossed my mind.

BigD isn't even allowed to drive yet, in fact he isn't allowed in the front seat because of the airbag and the fact that it would rebreak his ster.num, so I will make the 45 minute drive to the doctor with BigD in the back seat and most likely we will both be a wreck. He has been crying off and on all weekend because he knows I am scared and he can't do a damn thing about it. The boys and their ladies are here and it is helping distract me, but then I look at them and feel my eyes welling up and have to head to the bathroom until the wave of fear and anxiety passes.

So, how 2012 shapes up is yet to be determined.

Filet time

BigD is having his chest opened tomorrow, his breastbone sawed in half and pulled apart with a heavy metal retractor (goog a photo and see what fun it looks like) , his heart stopped for 4-6 hours, his vessels rerouted, then his breast bone will be pulled back together and wired shut, finally ending with a lovely 7-10 inch scar down the middle of his chest.

It all sounds so simple.

Lets just hope tomorrow isn't the day the surgeon decides to quit drinking and gets the DT's, or he feels a head cold coming on and lets out a gigantic sneeze and the bloody scalpel slips out of his hand and slices the aorta, or a young inexperienced surgeon begs and begs to help (think kids in the kitchen) and the frustrated old surgeon says 'whatev' and lets him take over.

This is the way my mind works. I can't tell anyone in my real life because they would think I was nuts, or mean, or whatever. So, I come here to let you judge my bizarreness.

Am I nervous? A little. But not about the surgery. It is taking place in the #1 cardiac facility in the world. Kings and Queens have been in the very OR that BigD will be in. The surgery itself will be fine. I am worried about after. Depression, anger, pain, and those are just what I will experience. He may have some issues too.

Nagging feeling part deux

So, where was I?

BigD went in yesterday for his heart cath. We were both nervous. Me, because I knew to what extent that he had changed over the past year. Him, because he didn't want to hear any bad news. Both of us, because we knew things weren't "perfect".

S3 was off school so he wanted to come along. This in itself caused a "WHA?" reaction. 17 year old boy kid has a day off school, and asks to get up at 6am, drive to the big city to the north and spend the day hanging out in a hospital that gives him incredible heebeejeebees instead of sleeping in, grazing the fridge and playing ps3 all day. Did I tell you he is a great kid?

Once we got BigD checked in and prepped, they told us to go eat. The procedure would take between 45 minutes and 90 minutes. 45 if they found nothing. 90 if they had to place st.ents. We went to eat and as a side note, I found it a bit ironic that the best cardiac facility in the world, the one where sheiks and kings bring their faulty tickers, has an array of artery clogging specialties on the menu. I guess it is job security for them assuring repeat patients.

Anyhoo, on our way back to the cath lab we ran into future DIL's dad. I can't go into details, but lets just say he has something to do with the above mentioned sheiks and kings when they arrive into the fair city for ticker repair.

Future DIL dad (from now on will be FDILD) has a tendency to talk . A LOT. I wanted to get back to the lab but he kept talking. No sweat because the desk at the lab had my cell number and said they would call me if the doctor finished and wanted to talk to me. We were gone for a little over an hour when we finally made it back to the cath lab. When I walked to the desk, the sweet lady sat up and said "WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?". Apparently they had been calling my phone and paging me for over half an hour. As she was telling me this, my phone made the sound it makes when a voicemail arrives. It was her message from 30 minutes earlier. Crap.

I instantly had two thoughts. Yippee...they were done in less than 30 minutes because all was good. Thought number two...Shit, they were done in less than 30 minutes, not enough time to stent so things are in the crapper.

They told me BigD was being admitted upstairs.....as in intensive care.....and we could go there. By this time S2 had shown up so the three of us went up to wait for BigD's arrival. We waited and waited. The kind desk lady called back to the lab for us to find out why BigD hadn't arrive upstairs yet and she said they were waiting on transport. Another 15 min went by and her phone rang and I heard our name. She called me to the desk with an odd look on her face and told me BigD was staying in the lab until he was discharged. HUH? Nothing made any sense. We made our way back downstairs.

We walked into the holding area of the lab and BigD was laying on the bed eating a turkey sandwich, baked chips (it is a heart facility afterall) and smiling. I was so confused. Patients don't go from being assigned a room in ICU to being discharged an hour later.

BigD said he talked to the doctor and the doctor said that there was only one area with a problem and he didn't think it needed to be stented. Now, thats what BigD heard. It's actually NOT what the doctor said.

Another hour passed while we waited for the doc to finish up another case and he came in to talk to us. What he actually said was........there is one vessel with 100% closure. As in completely. It is the major vessel. Yep, the wi.dow m.aker. Somehow BigD has developed an alternate circulation system and two new vessels have sprouted to take over the work. The man is a freak of nature. He managed to avoid dropping dead. Because it is 100% blocked he need not worry about a heart attack in that major vessel. It's already screwed. So now his other vessels are the ones that need to be addressed.

To say that my head is swimming still, would be an understatement. I have a ton of medical background, especially cardiology, and if I am befuddled, I can't imagine what the random patient must be thinking.

BigD has two options. He can either have a d-ouble by-pass or he can do nothing. Those seem like very unlikely equal options. Needless to say we have much to discuss, many more facts to ascertain, and multiple things to consider.

You know that nagging feeling in your gut?

The one that makes you hesitate for a second to process some information. It's the thing that you repress because it conjures up uncomfortable thoughts, or things you just want to avoid in general.

Starting six months to a year ago BigD started to "change". By that I mean he seemed withdrawn more. He would sit for hours playing mahjong and seem disinterested in everything. Since he had been taking a very low dose anti-D for years I recommended (when I wanted to scream) that he ask the doc for a dosage increase. Having been on the lowest dose for about ten years it seems realistic that it has lost it's effectiveness. Anyhoo....I noticed other "symptoms" as well. He was lethargic (p.s.doc..check the thyroid too), sad, emotional (continually telling me how wonderful I am, while it's terrific--he would almost be tearful--and I would wake up in the middle of the night and he would be kissing my hair and whispering how much he loves me...sweet but annoying at the same time), then I started noticing the physical symptoms. The weight gain (Well, I AM a kick ass cook), the ashen color of his skin when he would exert himself, the rest breaks that became so frequent it took him twice as long to do any yard work, etc. When we were in N.Y.City this fall I was walking along the parade route while he was marching and the thought flashed through my mind that I have seen that same pallor (ashen) and sweat on patients I was with in the ER during their MI's.

Knowing that it would piss him off, but doing it anyway, I subtly asked him repeatedly over the last six months if he was okay, if he felt okay. He admitted that he had been feeling down and that he felt out of shape (he is-and never used to be. I saw him on more than one occasion in his work capacity subdue the meanest of dudes without any difficulty). BUT, he also has no self control. We have talked about it over and over. If I make cookies (yes, temptress than I am, I DO cook and bake and the rest of us eat a sensible amount) he will eat 8 instead of 2, and then try to lie about it. I have taken to hiding my junk food to keep him healthy (I'm lying. I want it when I want it and if it's gone momma gets cranky).Last week I took 18 frozen cookie dough balls out of the freezer and baked them to have for dessert that night. I ate two, then left for the store. When I got home, there were 8 left on the plate. (There were going to be 5 of us at dinner). I was stunned. He ate 8 damn cookies that were for dessert.

He has been a regular at the R.ed C.ross donating every 52 days. They turned him away last week because his blood pressure was through the roof. He wasn't going to tell me but I saw the paper they gave him and confronted him. He said yep, it has been higher every time he has it checked. So, for the next three days I checked it a couple of times a day and it was ridiculously high. Now I got pissed. He had been taking this supplement crap to help with weight loss (hey, I have an idea...HOW ABOUT NOT SUCKING DOWN 8 COOKIES BEFORE DINNER) and it contains a legal version of amphetamine called phe.ntermine. He said that if it is sold over the counter it must be okay. Sometimes I find it hard to believe that he is as smart as he is when he is so stupid. He was taking some other crap for this and that too so I told him no more. If he wanted to kill himself he needed to do it at work because we get a huge death benefit then. I was kidding. Kinda.

Long story short, I got him in to see his doctor thanks to a friend that plugged him into a cancellation spot for the next day. He goes. BP is crazy high. Weight is up 25 lbs from last time. He finally admits to the doc that he has this *feeling* in his throat, upper chest, when he exerts. Not pain mind you, just a *feeling*.

Doc orders a nu.clear stre.ss test for yesterday. I took a book thinking I would have plenty of waiting room time. Not so much. Cardiologist comes out pretty soon and tells me that BigD has significant blockage. When I press him for which vessel, he tells me "the one on the front". He doesn't know that I am schooled in heart shit so I ask him if it is the L.AD. He gives me a look and briefly smiles and says yes. This my folks is commonly called "The W.idow Ma.ker". You literally have five minutes to get help if this one closes off. Five minutes.

So on Monday BigD is scheduled for a heart c.ath (they wanted to do it yesterday but the 'good' doctor is away until Monday. BigD was ordered to go home, don't do anything, don't work, don't get stressed, nothing. Seriously I can't believe the hospital let him go. It's a huge liability if something happens to him over the weekend.

We are looking at s.tents or bypass. We will know once the cath is done. Then comes the hard part. Getting him to eat healthy food. This is a man that lives on fat, grease and sugar. This isn't going to be pretty. I make healthy stuff at home, but when he is out and about he is on his own and his resistance to the smell of ribs, greasy burgers, fries, is very low. It would even be okay if he ate that stuff in moderation, but he is a second and third helping guy and he never leaves anything on his plate. It drives him crazy to see people not eating ALL their food. You would think he grew up in the depression for gods sake. His parents were fine financially, they were never ever hungry, so I have no idea where this clean plate obsession (that has gotten progressively worse over the past few years) came from.

So fun times ahead for the OHN household.

Not really a downer

Hey. Sorry about that last post. I am not a debbiedowner....well, at least not out loud. I can't be held liable for what happens INSIDE my head.

So, lets lighten things up a little.

The "boss" closed his practice and now I am working for a HUGE medical conglomerate with 100+ employees and guess what?? Nobody smiles. Everyone hates their job. There is a power struggle between two women that each think they are the boss (neither are, but both want to be) and they don't like each other and on a daily basis try to undermine what the other one has said. Fun times.

Fortunately, what I do, I do primarily alone, going to the office at my convenience, usually before patients start arriving. There are a couple days a week that I am with the patients and I enjoy that. They come in grumpy and sick, usually end up having a finger stuck up their asses, or a scope rammed in their johnson, and if I can make them smile before they leave, I have had a good day.

I have been able to stay out of the middle of the firestorm that is brewing and observe and it's really getting fun. My prediction is that the revolving employee door at this place will be spinning constantly.

That being said--I did update my resumé. In fact I have written a couple of different ones to a couple of specific areas of interest of mine and will keep my ears open. The one advantage to age is that I have experience in more than one arena so I can fill a void in many types of settings. I am not looking for a career....just a 15-20 hour a week paycheck to supplement my dwindling business income, but my goal is to work from home again. After doing that successfully for 15+ years, I have found that I rarely have to fight with myself for a lunch break, and my four legged office mates are quiet, never have ego issues and are generally good workers. The farting is a bit much, but I have an office with lovely windows that open.

Now, I want to leave you with a link to a craig.slist ad. I was catching up on some blogs this morning and this was posted by one of them. It made my whole morning. http://nh.craigslist.org/clt/2647453265.html I will have to track back to http://www.midgetmanofsteel.com more often if he leaves me with gems like that.

A day late...doesn't it always happen that way?

I was getting caught up on my magazines last night and there was an essay contest in one that for some unknown reason, felt compelled to enter. I wrote it all out (the essay subject was "when did you first understand the meaning of love") and as I was typing the submission email address I saw that the deadline had passed. (*note to self, read magazines closer to the time they arrive).

Anyway, since I can't share it with the thousands of people that read the magazine, I will share it will all three of you that read here.

My father was a charming, abusive, alcoholic. He was a pillar in the community, well liked, handsome, and in a position of power.

In her day and because she was Catholic, my mother knew that divorce was not an option. She endured his rages, threats and beatings not knowing what else to do in the era of the 1940’s and 1950’s. When I was born in the late 1950’s my mother was able to keep me sheltered, for the most part, from the turmoil but eventually one event led to a momentous decision for a woman in a small community in 1963.

After a particularly loud confrontation I walked into our kitchen in time to see my mother lying on the floor with my father standing over her in an alcohol infused rage. When she saw the look of terror and confusion on my face she made the decision, in that instant, to file for divorce.

Friends and family had to have known what was happening all those years. They didn’t know about the verbal abuse, or the times that the bruises and broken bones didn’t show. They didn’t know about the times she woke up with a gun pressed against her forehead with him asking her why he shouldn’t kill her that morning. Because of the era, and the way that “family matters” were not discussed with others, she never felt as though she would have any support and none was ever offered.

That morning, she didn’t care, the time had come. She told me later that she would not allow another child to live in such a horrid environment and that even if we had to live hand to mouth we would be safe. My brother had been witness to many episodes as he is a good deal older than I am, and ironically he has very little memory of any of the torment he was subjected to at the hands of our father.

So, knowing that she would be completely on her own with a young daughter, with no emotional or financial support from family and friends, and a community that would be stunned, she divorced my father because her love for me superseded everything else. It is an intense love that I thought I understood, but realized at the age of 32 I really never knew how intense it really was. That was when our first son was placed in my arms after struggling for eight years to become a mother myself. I got it. I finally really understood the whole “throw yourself in front of a bus for your child” love.

After word got around town that mom had filed for divorce, friends and family all quietly approached her and told her they wished she had done it years before. Everyone did know what was happening but because of the way things were, they couldn’t interfere in another family’s business, and they were also afraid of the ramifications from a powerful man.

Now, I hear myself telling my sons the same thing I heard from my mom for so long. They will understand how much I love them, when they have children. It took me 32 years.

Yep. Still kickin

Hello. My name is OHN and I am a bad blogger.

Life has completely run away with my time. I have started to post here about 8 gazillion times but there never seems to be enough time to put it all down. Face.book has drawn me away like a drug because it's quick and I don't have to think.

Small recap: S1 is engaged. Yep, I am officially going to be a dreaded MIL. Though considering my soon to be DIL begs S1 to spend ridiculous amounts of time here, I think we are going to get along fine. As long as she learns how to make a bed, unload a full dishwasher, load an empty dishwasher-not fill the sink with dishes, wipe toothpaste out of the sink, not leave wet towels on the floor, and closes the fridge door once in awhile. All that said, she is lovely and a PERFECT match to S1. The soon to be DIL didn't have her mom around much growing up so some of the finer things that make a brilliant June Cleaver homemaker have not been shared with her. I am up to the task of gently showing her...bwahhahahahha.

On the home-front, since we last chatted, things have hit the shitter more than once. The marriage has been tested, jobs have been lost, finances have been stretched, and I have thought about running away from home. Seriously. I am a budget genius. I can make a dollar spend like five. Considering that S1 and future DIL, along with S2 and his sweetie (I introduced them, did I tell you that story??) are cleaning out the fridge on a regular basis make 1=5 necessary. It's the proverbial double-edged sword people. I LOVE the fact that my adult children still enjoy "home" but its tough to feed seven, when I am geared for three, on the spur of the moment. I have attempted to rectify that by telling them I need a little warning when they are coming. Dropping in is fine, but don't expect to be fed then. When they say "it's ok, we can order pizza", I have had to resort to telling them that spending $45-50 for one meal on pizza pies isn't in the budget right now. Which brings me to the next ohhh poor me moment:

Remember over a year ago when I was here whining about my job security. Well, Doc finally decided to pack it in and close his practice. So I have about 4 weeks before my income falls another $1000 a month (after falling $1000 a month last year) if you don't have a calculator handy, it is about $24,000 a year less than I made a couple of years ago. Yes. It makes a difference. I have been looking, right along with all the recent college grads that are slinging burgers-because the job market isn't too open in case you haven't heard. To make matters a little more complicated, my experience is all in the medical field in one aspect or another, so my market is a little specific. I am not opposed to changing fields mid-stream, but I have no idea what else to pursue without heading back to the college scene, then join the above mentioned recent grads at Mc.Donalds. I am resilient and I will find something. Anyone need their dogs walked?

Now, on to the marriage. What can I say? There are days where my patience is tried to the thinnest possible thread. Where I am the queen of monetary distribution, BigD is the opposite. He has no clue why I want to make sure we have a nest egg for emergencies (like when our 20 year old oven blows up, or my tires are bald). He will see that we have money in the bank and think....hey great, I'm gonna go buy $500 worth of shit I don't need at H.ome D.epot. It's okay though, because he can put it on the credit card. Here is a man that tracks and apprehends murders, rapists, and assorted other felons, yet he doesn't understand why he can't spend money at will. His thought (and the basis for our most recent "chat") is that if he is making it, he can spend it.

I made a spreadsheet (okay, actually it was just a word document with a numbered list) of what our actual expenses are monthly. House payment, insurances-(car, house,life, medical) prescriptions, utilities, gas, cable (yes, this IS a necessity as it bundles with our internet that I need for work), and the list goes on and on to include food etc. When it is down on paper it looks absolutely impossible that we are able to pay everything, and on time, with our income, but I make it work. When he saw the list that I presented without an attitude-I swear-he went off on a tirade that he works as much as he can, earns as much as he can etc etc. He totally missed the point. I am not asking him to make more money, just to understand that the money he (we) makes needs to be spent wisely and not on impulse. I am not a shrink, but I do know that part of his thought process is insecurity about being a good provider. He is a fine provider, its just that his siblings are all mega-mega-money makers and he has always felt "lesser" than them. This is ridiculous but he has always felt the need to keep up with them. I wish I had seen years ago his level of need for sibling approval, many things would have been different. I would have talked him out of our huge home, and the trappings that make us appear to be much more well off than we are. The appearance is very important to him. It's all smoke and mirrors people. I was young and naive.

Years ago he was in charge of our bills. Because of his line of work everything is in my name--liability etc. Guess whose credit hit the crapper when he would "forget" to pay the bills. I finally convinced him that since I am the one that grocery shops, was buying the necessities for the kids etc, I needed to have the checkbook because he wasn't always here when I needed it. I then slowly started asking "hey, I have the checkbook, want me to pay the phone bill?" and from that point on he was actually relieved to be relieved of the task of bill payments so I was off and running. At some point along the way he has forgotten how stressful it is to have $3000 worth of bills with $2000 in the account.

We got a small inheritance from a distant relative and I was breathing a sigh of relief knowing we could beef up our emergency fund, then I saw the glimmer in his eye. He had plans for all of it. Hence, another "chat". We have had more "chat's" in the past year than we have in the past thirty years. They are rather loud chats at this point. Though, this most recent one did end with him doing two home repairs that had been put off for YEARS and together they only took 2 hours. TWO HOURS and I have waited years without any nagging. I hate nags, and he knew they needed to be done so bitching about it would have just raised my blood pressure. He did hang his head like a sad puppy when he was done and admitted he should have done them long ago. (I told him some of his glimmer money was going to be spent on me hiring a husband for the day to do all the little things that haven't been done----he may have been thinking stud service, but I was thinking stud service....two entirely different kinds of studs :-)

Anyway, I have been under tremendous pressure from many avenues this summer and have neglected to write. I really should have remembered that it makes be feel incredibly good to purge here. At this point, I seriously doubt that anyone even reads this but it's good therapy for me. I have been reading some blogs, but not much. Even my favorites (yep, yours) have not been read for a bit. Hell, one went and got an awesome job and if we weren't Fbook friends I wouldn't have even known. Another traveled the world to speak at Blog.her. We WILL meet someday Eden, DD, Becky....and the list goes on and on. I have "met" some great people here and I feel like I have walked away. I haven't, life just got in the way for a bit. I will be back bitching as usual in no time.

You don't have to leave a comment, but if anyone is actually still reading, a quick "yep, still hanging with you OHN" would be great.

What I did today

Okay. Whew, been a long time huh? Yeah, about that...sorry. I have been doing tons and will jot it all down here soon. But, in the meantime I wanted to share with you a letter I wrote this morning to a physician I started working for A WEEK AGO. Yes, I could only stand it one week. People...if you go to a doctor, and you have a test, CALL THE OFFICE for a copy of the report. If they don't call you, it doesn't mean all is peachy. Things fall through cracks, idiots are attracted to doctors office staff positions (ever wonder why every 6 months or year that you go there are new people??)

Anyway.....the letter is as follows. The dark print is the actual letter. The red, I would have loved to add in, but yet was able to restrain my strong desire to do so.

Dear Dr. Needsabettersystem:

I feel the need to explain to you why I am leaving my new position. My first day I was given (a ridiculous) 45 minutes of training, though most of it was spent by my trainer eating, chatting and texting with her cell phone (along with a few trips to the medication room...hmmmmm). Very few of my questions were answered, and I found much (all) of the (little) information she provided was either incorrect or incomplete. I am very surprised that there is not a procedure manual dedicated to your particular desires in regard to your EMRD data entry. (considering this computer system has supposedly be in place for three damn years). While the girls in the office have been helpful, (they too spend extreme amounts of time talking about their various tattoos, piercings, and drug addict baby-daddies), they are very busy with their own responsibilities, and because of that, my training has been haphazard at best, with me having to interrupt them to clarify information. (and when I do ask a question nobody else knows the answer and stare at me and each other like I just told them J.erry Sp.ringer is waiting to interview them).By my third day, I was no further along than on my first day. As a business owner myself, I recognize the value of a dedicated employee, but it is imperative that the employee be sufficiently trained for their position. (I am smart. Make no mistake, one solid day training on a new system program, I would have it nailed). With 20+ years experience in various areas of medical office work, I am more than capable, but I am concerned about the liability of records not being processed correctly and potentially creating a significant issue. (such as the physicians having their asses sued off AGAIN because they missed an extremely abnormal report because nobody knows what the fuck is going on). So, with these concerns, along with others, I resign effective immediately, so as not to waste your time and to allow you to fill the position in a more expedient manner.(with some other chick that can share nipple piercing stories with the rest of the staff, that if they are lucky and put all their knowledge together, would equal one good brain.)

Sincerely,

OHN