February 8th, 2011

crossed heart

Moonshifted – 65k

Originally published at Cassie Alexander. You can comment here or there.

3800 words in one day.65.3k 2nd draft total.

It's been awhile since I've written this flat out, but i have the ending in my teeth now, i can taste it. It feels good.

I didn't really get started for awhile, had to sleep in after work, then wake up and dick around because i was going to yoga, then no i wasn't, because my shoulder was tweaked, and then i texted back and forth with my masseur friend, telling her, "this is my typing shoulder. pretty please." and i have an appointment with her tomorrow, and then there was watching the Larry Sanders show with my husband and ordering pizza because i'm basically dressed like a manic hobo right now, but i didn't want to take anything off or put anything else on to go outdoors.

Manic hobo outfit = totemic writing armor. It is this (and you will see why i couldn't leave the house): comfy Hello Kitty "I love nerds" pajama bottoms, wherein Kitty has on thick glasses, like my husband and many friends. A long sleeved Mickey Mouse shirt, because Disneyland and I are tight, and it's my shirt for getting tattoos in because it's loose and been stretched out. My knee-high solar system socks, because they are awesome, they stand for science, my original love of science fiction, and frontiers and space. My normal necklace of meaningful charms -- locks and keys -- but in addition to that, the colorful Día de los Muertos necklace I bought myself when i found out Nightshifted had sold.

Then, i got over all the reasons why i couldn't write, and why it scared me (it doesn't always, but it's Zeno's paradox, the closer you get the more it counts, which is exponentially more frightening than not being close at all) and wrote my butt off. I knew i'd get to this stage eventually -- I wasn't going one day off without writing, for sure -- but I am glad it all worked out really really well.

(It didn't stop my brain from looking for ways to make me feel bad, but that'll be the topic of later, longer, post.)

After 3 pieces of pizza, and sitting around in my slouchy outfit, especially without going to yoga, and then a piece of cake, I was beginning to feel like a slob. When i realized i'd hit 3k today though, and i got hungry around 3 AM? I ate another red velvet cake slice -- feeling deliciously entitled to it.

Bedtime now. Tomorrow's tomorrow.

crossed heart

who was that masked woman

Originally published at Cassie Alexander. You can comment here or there.

Someone remembered me the other night, at work.

It's always weird being a nightshift nurse. You go through all these heavy, heavy, things with your patients -- you're understaffed, and occasionally undersupported by doctors (our doctors aren't always around) -- and their family isn't there to see any of it, (which is usually for the best for them, i'll admit), and you're dealing with the patient when they're at their worst, healthwise, so if they're lucky, they're intubated/sedated and out of it and they won't remember a thing.

So you watch them like a hawk for three nights in a row, it's just you and them, and you're making them turn a corner, you are hauling on the reins, doing everything right.....and no one knows it but you. It's your job to do these things, after all, and do them well. And you don't want to tell the family, "You know, his heart rate last night, whoa!" so that they'll get the drama of you helping save him.

But some shifts i worked recently i had family members there, because i came in early, and the patient's condition was dire. And then fast forward me being gone a week, and that patient getting better. I peek into their chart, i peek into their room from across the hall -- i see the patient in there, sitting up, eating, well, and the family, and it's a little like being Tiny Tim on Christmas, I want to be involved in those things, but I'm already onto the next critical patient down the hall, and no one remembers me besides.

But a family member spotted me. And made my ex-patient -- who has no idea who i am, or what i did for him -- wave at me, to show he was OK. I got to smile before i moved on.

It was nice for once to be remembered. Nicer still that things worked out right.