Two Roads Diverged...

As the weekend approaches, we find ourselves at series of forks in the road. The first comes, for me, in the form of whether to continue with my original plan to work hourly as a nurse while I'm in law school. This originally seemed like a great way to earn a decent supplement to Matt's income, while maintaining my connections with nursing and keeping up my license. However, as I have completed the second of three days of orientation on my new floor and found it to be nothing but pure, headache-inducing CHAOS, I'm second-guessing that decision and wondering whether it isn't undermining the entire reason we're out here if the stress and requirements of this job are going to detract from law school. I won't get into the specifics of the job except to say that by my second day there, I was already having to explain things to several agency nurses who hadn't even worked there as long as I had--some of whom hadn't ever done this type of nursing before. Talk about the blind leading the blind in a very scary way.

The patient load is incredible, especially given new initiatives such as mandating that we sit down next to each patient's bed at least once per shift. How can I sit down 12 times in an 8-hour shift in which I don't even get to go to the bathroom or eat dinner? In addition, I didn't do a ton of research regarding their union status before I started because I wouldn't be eligible to join it anyway, but when I did, I discovered that their administration actually has a policy against unionization. So that air of helplessness and hopelessness I thought I sensed on the unit? Right on target.

There's a part of me that wants to hang on for two reasons: the first being financial, and the hope of incurring as little school debt as is humanly possible so that the next phase of our lives can be that much smoother than the last; and the second, the urge (weakened, but still alive) to dig in and make a difference in an organization where it seems like the patients are often left wanting. BUT, if I wanted to throw myself and my humanity wholeheartedly into nursing, I think we should have stayed in Iowa, where it would have pretty lucrative and probably actually feasible to do so. Instead, the decision was made that I could ultimately better impact people's lives as a lawyer, and so the other part of me feels like I would be pennywise and pound-foolish if I didn't enter law school with a total focus I've never actually been able to have before, split as I've been between a thousand different things at a time. I feel like I might be wasting something if I didn't go into it with the intention of seeking out and soaking up every last opportunity I can possibly find there, rather than trying to squeak out early or show up late or skip what I can, like I have in the past, just so that I can get to work.

Matt is at a somewhat similar impasse right now, as another professional opportunity has come to his attention and he's having to try to articulate exactly what it is he wants for himself and his career, almost before he starts. Not an easy thing. We did visit his elementary schools today and got to see his name up, in the front of the school, under "Music." Between the kids he might serve and the patients I'm running into, I think we're both seeing a side of this city--the side where there is so much NEED that you don't even know where to start--that has the potential to swallow us and our idealism whole. I get the feeling that whatever each of us decides to do, the fight against burnout will be our constant companion.

In even more frustrating news, we received a notice from our landlord today stating that the "routine, quarterly" extermination for roaches was to take place on Monday and we needed to remove everything from the kitchen and bathroom (including the cats) and put it all in the bedroom, leave for several hours, and then come back and wash and replace everything. Anybody who's ever been in this apartment (admittedly, they are few) recognizes the utter ludicrousness of this idea. When the bedroom is already packed from floor to 10-foot ceiling, you can't take what's packed into the kitchen (from floor to 10-foot ceiling) and miraculously make room for it in the bedroom. Additionally, as people who feel uncomfortable with the idea of certain vaccines and make our own rags out of old pieces of underwear, we feel really funny about the idea of coating our--and our cats'--living space with a layer of poison. Particularly when we've never so much as spotted a single bug. So we called the landlord (futilely, we assumed) and explained our concerns. Shockingly, we were given a reprieve for the spraying; but we barely had time to absorb this unexpected piece of luck when the blow was delivered that--Oh, you have cats? How many? Because they aren't allowed in that apartment.

Uh-huh.

Despite having asked multiple times on the phone and in person (due to bad experiences of this ilk having taken place before), and having an email stating "there would be no fee to have a cat" and the only provision in our lease stating that we cannot have a pet the landlord has not approved of--despite the fact that these are cats, who make no noise, who have no claws, and that there is no carpet here to raise a concern about dander or soil, so as my dad would say, "If it's not a problem, it's not a problem"(or at least it shouldn't be)--

despite all this, apparently, our apartment doesn't take cats.

So. They're supposed to get back to us on Monday to let us know, presumably, whether we'll need to take this show on the road.

And just to put the icing on the cake, Best Buy called and they "think" that they have fixed our TV. What a ringing statement of confidence that is, and what a comfort.