I haven't had the time to write or the desire really, not since we left Idaho. I've tried to write, but most of my creative inspiration is gone. When my depression set in, it left no room for anything cheerful, positive or creative. However, I've known for some time that writing is therapeutic to the soul and allows a little bit of healing to take place, so here I am.
It's been nearly 11 months since we left Idaho. Much has happened in that 11 months. I've been taken to some of the lowest points of my existence. Moments that I did not think that healing was possible. Moments of betrayal, heartbreak, anger from which return is difficult, frustration so severe, a physical act of release is needed just to release the physical tension (like hitting something). My views on religion and higher powers, deities, relationships, faith, prayer, the all encompassing scheme of God, has been changed. Not necessarily damaged, but changed. I was raised with a view of faith, that I was loved unconditionally. However, i never felt it like I think I should have. Being an emotional person by nature and raised by a logical person, by nature, things were difficult emotionally. I could say that I had a tumultuous childhood, and in some ways I did. But I know of those who've had worse. But I always managed to believe in things unseen. Until a few years ago. That's when the struggle ensued. And it's continued. I have no problems believing that things will work out OK, but do I still believe that things will work out OK because of God? Or because that's just the way I work? Because I know that yeah, things could get worse, but if they do I will just deal with it and keep my head up and keep going forward just like I always have? Of course not. I always end up saying, God's got this. He always does and always will. I find myself in these moments of despair wondering what purpose there really is behind it all. The rat race. The jumps we find ourselves hurdling over for what? A raise. A better car. A new house.
This last year has taught me a few things about hurdles. They hurt like hell. And you get burned. A lot. I've heard of racial prejudices before, but being raised in areas where racial stigmas were not a norm, experiencing them first hand was hurtful. I started working for a company called LifeSouth. It's much like the RedCross in that it's a blood donation center. It's more focused on the community that it's located in. Providing blood to the local hospitals for immediate community needs. Though the intents of the company are noble and good, the work ethics behind the company are atrocious. The work hours were awful, the compensation minimal and the treatment....well, lets just say that I would have had better hours working a drive through at Wendy's. I was regularly pulling 60 hours a week. The overtime was great for the paycheck, but my kids missed me, my husband missed me...and I was severely lacking in sleep. My homework suffered and so did my school attendance. the people were even worse. I was one of a few white people that worked there and I was not looked on kindly by many. Not because of anything I purposefully did. I was educated, going to school to further my education. I wasn't from the south. I wasn't from Alabama. that right there was a big issue. I worked 6 weekends in a row before I told my manager that I wouldn't be coming in at all the following weekend and she had a very confused and 'innocent' look on her face about not realizing that she'd been scheduling me every weekend, while giving my co-workers the weekends off. I kept this up for 3 1/2 months before looking for work elsewhere.
I finally got sick. And I mean SICK. I was down for 5 days. I missed 3 days worth of work. I had fluid in my lungs. I was truly sick. The day that I finally started to feel better, I went in to work and was told to go home because I needed a doctors note for being out 3 consecutive days. I got the doctors note and turned in my resignation. I had had an interview at the hospital the week before and had been offered the position so quitting was not a problem for me. I was glad to see it go. I started working at the hospital in the Path Lab and thought there were some majorly horrendous aspects to my job, I really did enjoy it. I got around a lot, learned a lot about the hospital layout (it's a biiiiiig hospital), and felt that I was going to go somewhere. The only problem was one co-worker. She will remain nameless..wait, why do I care? She wont read this! Her name is Nicole. And she's a horrible human being. Horrible. She's the type that cares about one thing. Herself. Not much else matters to this woman. She and I never clicked and that was ok with me, because it did not affect how I did my job. I kept my encounters with her to a minimum and necessity only basis and I thought it was going ok. I realized rather quickly that this was not ok. I was considered the odd one. The outcast. I didn't participate in their inner circle clique. I kept to myself for the most part. I didn't tell jokes, I did my job. If there weren't runs to be made, I was cleaning. if I wasn't cleaning, I was prepping the stations for the Pathologists. There was always stuff to do. Plus I wanted to move up. Quickly. I thought that was becoming a reality when I had a meeting scheduled with the COO of the new Madison hospital, the sister hospital to Huntsville Hospital, to be the go to person for the path/histo/cyto lab at the new hospital. I was being trained in all 3 areas, plus my phlebotomy skills came in handy. 2 days before the interview, things got ugly quickly. I now feel that the 'miscommunication' was intentional, but the technicalities are not important here. Needless to say, Nicole spent several minutes pointing out, in her opinion, how worthless I am, how stupid I am, how pathetic, f*** up....etc etc. The list went on and on for her. Apparently I was pretty much a terrible person. Anyhow, when she was done, I went to the bathroom to compose myself. I surprised even myself with my lack of tears. My face was pretty red, but at least my eyes weren't puffy and swollen. I went back to work. I kept the incident to myself, figuring that if this interview with the COO went well, I was only going to be here for another couple months anyway. So why bother with something that could get nasty. 2 days later, I had the interview with the COO. I left feeling on top of the world. She loved me. Couldn't wait to work with me. I went back to work just thrilled beyond belief about what was happening! I couldn't wait. The next day, I got called into the supervisors office. I figured since it'd been nearly 8 weeks, I was due for an employee eval, and studying healthcare admin and management, I went in prepared. could not have been more wrong. I walked into a trap. The conversation started out great. I was asked all the right questions. How I liked it, How I felt I was doing, Any questions, concerns...the norm. Nothing to raise my suspicions. The next set of questions should have been my trigger for alarm. "So, tell us about the Nicole incident." my face, I'm sure, must have betrayed my shock and surprise because as far as I was aware, no one knew about it. The witch must have thought I would 'tattle' on her and to cover up her mistake(s), she made it out to be my fault? really? Are we in grade school?? I thought we were all mature adults. I responded and said "I was unaware that anyone knew or had heard about it." Vicky responded that in this lab, everything is heard and there are no secrets. So I asked then why do you need my account of it? She responded with something like 'for posterity's sake'. So began my recount of the incident. I spared no detail and finished with my assumption that since I was to leave this location for the Madison location, I just figured that I would be the better person and work in silence and just do my job to the best of my ability. She then shocked the socks off of me by saying that "We feel that given the situation, that this may not be the best place for you......" I think I stopped listening(thinking) for a few moments while that sunk in. the meaning behind it was a little slow in coming but when I started tracking with her again, I asked for my evaluation. there wasn't one. I asked what I needed to improve on and was met with there isn't anything you really can do. So then I resorted to the "please give me another chance to prove myself (even though I had done nothing wrong)" and was met with "we feel that giving you another chance would be setting you up for failure. You don't seem to be a people person and things just haven't meshed as well as we would like to see." I asked when my termination was effective. Immediately. Wow. What a bomb. I gathered my things and left. speechless really. I sat in my car and cried for 2 hours. I didn't know what to do with myself. My kid's weren't out of school yet, I wasn't due home for another 3 hours. I did not know what to do. So I cried. Yelled a little bit. Cursed the people in the building. Then I gathered myself together and drove. I waited for a little while to call me husband and tell him because I didn't know what to say. "Hey babe, I just thought i'd let you know that I got FIRED today..." from a job that no one wants. No wants to dump organs down a drain and run the heavy duty disposal. No one wants to weigh fetus' and risk the potential of a cystic uterus rupturing on them. (ew) But you do it because one step in the door is better than 2 steps out. I wasn't in this job because I wanted to be there. I was in this job because I wanted to be in the hospital. Working my way up. Getting into position. It's like chess. You move your pieces until you have them in the right places. It's about timing, execution, and patience.
I spent the next 36 hours back and forth emotionally. Through the next several weeks, I learned that I am not the first, second or even third person to experience this in the exact same location, but I am one of many. I am one of many affected not only from the lab but from Nicole personally. wrongful termination comes to mind.
Monday morning I went by my kids' school to talk to the director about what to do because I'd lost my job and had no idea what the future held and what to do about my kids' tuition. He basically offered me a job. I took it. So, by some miracle I landed a job that took care of day care, I am home EVERY evening with kids, I get to bring them to school, take them home, no worrying about schedule conflicts. For now. The job is temporary. Covers me until august 1st. when the gal I'm covering for comes back from her mission trip to Micronesia. I love being here. My co-workers are wonderful, my boss couldn't be better, and the environment is healthy. There are days that I go home drained, but for the most part, I couldn't ask for a better place to be.
So, why the tumultuous feelings of unrest? Why the doubts? Why the fears of where I am supposed to be and what's supposed to happen? Mostly for this purpose. I am 6 classes from completing my degree. 6 classes from graduation. 6 classes to finish off a 7 year pursuit of school. several of those years spent going full time to university, taking no less than 18 credits a semester. I am tired of school. And now, with only 6 classes left, I wont be able to finish on time because Uncle Sam put a cap on government student loans. I reached that cap with 6 classes left. Oops. Good job Obama.
*sigh*
I have reached a point where I no longer feel completely whole. something is missing and I cannot figure it out. Perhaps it is the need to break down my barriers that have been being so carefully built for the last year, and have myself a good long cry. Perhaps it's a cliche. Perhaps my unrest is the typical 'need to search out your relationship with God" story book ending. As though that alone will solve the problem. The Christian Fiction novels I used to read growing up made it seem like a revelation, a TA DA moment that surpassed it all. It'd been there all along and they just failed to see it. Or the revelation of, "oh wow, he LOVES ME", or the heart breaking moment of things being stripped away and falling to your knees realizing that you just. cant. do it. alone. I hate cliches. and I don't want to be one either. I'm actually kind of tired of saying god's got this. I'm tired of saying, It'll all be OK because He's taking care of us. Man, if it was my job to take care of others and I did it the way that's been happening on my end, I'd be fired. But I also don't want to be Jim Carey and take on God's job because Morgan Freeman does a fine job. Besides, who wants to answer THAT many emails in one day? Not me. I have enough on my plate. Not to mention that feeling a little bad for my doubts when I can look back on my life and honestly tell myself that certain events could not possible be just an accident or happenstance. Oh I'm just constantly lucky. A lot.
No, these things don't just happen. Usually there is some defining moment for most that give them the Ah Ha moment of realization. The epitome of their faith. The cumulative series of events that leads an individual to their knees and gives them the angels choir "Ahhhhhh" moment. I have a book full. I think I'm that person that most people hate. I'm the one that needs an obvious answer. subtlety is wasted on me. I need Him to show up in front of me and say "Yo, listen up. That night that you hit that elk and it shoulda gone through your front window but didn't? Yeah, that was me. That time that you shouldn't have been able to pay rent but that $700 check showed up in the mail unannounced? Yep. Me. That time that you laid in the hospital on a bed with your heart slowing down, unable to breath and in your mind you cried out to me not to take you yet...you'd just had a baby..remember that? Again, that was me. Oh, this ones good. remember that time when you and your fiance were headed to CA and he went to pass a semi and another semi was incoming and he didn't see it in time and you should have been sandwiched between two semi's but weren't? Me, yet again. This one time (and each of you from my generation just finished that with "at band camp") you were late for work and you were so upset about being late and you passed that really bad accident...again, that was me watching out for you. So, my point is, stop whining and complaining and stop worrying so much about the things you cannot control. I really, really GOT this." I guess at this point, I can hype it up all I want, but ultimately this all comes down to one thing. My choice. My choice to maintain my faith, no matter how weak it is at times. To keep telling myself that there is always something bigger, something better. Otherwise, everything else in this world comes to a faded close with nothing left to show for it except worn out hands, hunched backs, broken nails and wrinkled faces. But those wrinkled faces tell a story of life, love, laughter and Legacy. So, even if I never have a divine appointment, I can chose to live my life based on the Legacy that I leave behind. You know, the one that will come around when someone says, "My grandma used to say..." and they are talking about me.
