Death is Taboo, Gore Not So Much: Something's Wrong

This is halfway a lazy post in response to an article on Blisstree about an 84 year old British man who chose to allow his last hours to be filmed and televised in hopes that it might be helpful to others. This was my response:

As a medical professional working with the geriatric population, I see death and dying all the time. I feel that it's a positive thing to show death in a positive, natural light. Normally people see blood and gore, whether through special effects or through gory images, including actual suicides or animals being tortured and killed on the Internet. Anyone that makes a big deal out of a peaceful death being shown needs a reality check. We have too much blood and gore thrown at us visually while at the same time denying the realities of the end of life. Perhaps Gerald's last hours will help those who view realize that the elderly and dying should be treated with dignity.

I slept very little last night/this morning. I had an extremely disturbing dream. My son became very ill. He was breathing very rapidly at times. His teeth started falling out. I was trying to hurry to get him to a hospital but was trapped in this damn shopping-mall like affair that is a recurring place in my dreams. I was driving this stupid golf-cart thing that people used to get through this gigantic mall, which was the size of a small town. By the time I got to the hospital he had shriveled down to the size of an infant and was hardly breathing. I screamed at the technician to do something but he just sat there blathering at me about god know what, then shrugged and said in a very cavalier manner "it's too late, Man." I was livid and sick and praying that it was a dream. I will need to call my son today and make sure everything's going okay. He hasn't moved back into his apartment yet. When he does, I am going to invest in an alarm system. He loves the apartment and wants to live there (sans roommate) for the next 10 years at least while he continues his education.

Ouch

I think that Faycin's had it up to here (hand held way above head) with the idea of being a nurse. Even though I like the nurse I'm working with during clinicals, it's too hard on my body (standing for an average of 6.5 to seven of eight hours at a time) and it's very thankless. Plus the training has, frankly, sucked balls. I've never been one for rigorous, militaristic training. I would have been booted out of the army for psych issues for sure. So, the combination of psych (you know the drill: bipolar, borderline personality, OCD) and body (fibromyalgia) issues makes nursing a frankly bad choice. I currently do not think I'm going to go beyond the LPN level unless I can find a way to do the majority of the work online. I don't think I can take another year of the women who run this nursing program that I'm currently in. 

The nurse that I'm training with is very good and has been very encouraging. If it were only she I had to deal with, I don't think there would be a problem. The program instructor likes to sneak in and make surprise inspections. Currently we have someone from the state making life miserable for the workers at the facility. I'm learning fast that I really don't think I can do this kind of work four days a week. My body issues are making it very difficult. Fortunately I only have two and a half weeks to go. If my car doesn't do something like die on me, I can handle it. Otherwise I will literally be kicked out of the program, will not be allowed re-admit, and will likely not be able to get into another program.

I really think that when this is over, no more nursing. I may get certified as a medical coder. They make as much or more money than nurses anyway and it's less wear and tear on the body.

Ten Celebrity Don'ts

This was the writing prompt for the Writer's Workshop: a list of ten celebrity don'ts. This list could pretty much be summed up in two words: Charlie Sheen. Or is that Mel Gibson? Or Lindsay Lohan. Never mind, let's break it down.

1. Racial slurs. These days hate speech is not generally accepted. Mel Gibson made a huge faux pas with this and to a lesser degree, so did Charlie Sheen. Michael Richards (Kramer) probably torpedoed his career for good with his racist slur during a stand-up show. Racism: it ain't cool unless you're playing a KKK meeting.

2. Homophobic slurs. While there may still be enough macho douchebags out there that this one gets overlooked a little more often than the racism, more and more people are realizing that gays are just people and don't deserve to be hated on just because they're attracted to people of the same sex. Homophobia = douchebaggery, pure and simple.

3. Flashing your cooch while getting out of a limo wearing a short skirt and no panties. It looks really, really tacky. Put on the god damn underwear. Seriously--I would never want to ride in a limo that some of these broads have ridden in commando.

4. Fake lesbian behavior to work guys up. It's boring and makes you look like a bimbo. I have no problem with real lesbians, but when you're doing it just for attention, you're an idiot.

5. Being a bad tipper. You're living large, it's time to show a little gratitude and spread the love. Few things are more nauseating than a bad tipper who's rich.

6. Fooling around on your spouse. Especially if said spouse happens to be pregnant with your child while you're fooling around on her *cough*DavidBoreanaz*cough* Or said spouse happened to donate you a kidney *cough*GeorgeLopez*cough*

7. Junior high fat jokes. Not everyone wears a size two. Big people are just as deserving of common decency as skinny ones. If you have to resort to fat jokes, your routine is lacking. The exception: fat comedians have earned the right to make fat jokes. 

8. Ostentatious spending, i.e. $35,000 alligator skin bags...Kim Kardashian. Flaunting it is always gauche, but it is particularly tasteless during these tough economic times.

9. Fake boobs. Seriously, they make you look like a clone. Hollywood starlet with fake boobs. How...the same.

10. Chasing people young enough to be your child or grandchild, especially if you dumped your long-suffering spouse to rob said cradle. Men seem to be guilty of this more often than women, but one does find the occasional cougar.

So, that's my vain and useless list of celebrity behavior that I find offensive. Hopefully I'll be going to sleep now.

What Happened?

I woke up so depressed this morning. Even though I've actually liked clinicals a lot more than I thought I would, I wish it was all over so I could establish my own life, work on making the schedule that's right for me, stop being everyone else's puppet. The truth is, I still wish I could stop punching a time clock. 

I'm worried about my son's situation. Things are not working out with his roommate. She is living there rent free but nonetheless has taken over the entire apartment. Her decorating scheme (early dorm room--posters everywhere) and no room for his things even in the kitchen. He's going to talk to her about it. He actually wants her to move out. I feel bad for her because every place she's been she's been asked to move out and now I'm starting to see why. She's not a bad person but she doesn't try at all. It isn't entirely her fault. But since he's paying all of the rent, she really should not feel such a sense of entitlement. This isn't a boyfriend-girlfriend situation, they are platonic friends. She's actually the girlfriend of one of my son's friends.

I miss having my son living with me part of the time but it was time that he stopped playing the child of divorced parents role. He's going to be 21 in a few weeks. Shuttling between his home here and his father's apartment was ridiculous. He likes having his own place. He keeps things reasonably clean (not a habit he learned from either his father or me, I'm embarrassed to say--it was more in spite of than because of us) and it's a good place in a decent neighborhood. It's good for catching buses to work or school, although I intend to help him with getting to school. It's a way that we can spend time together.

I'm still working on getting my dogs a new home. I am a good owner for cats but not for dogs. That's bumming me out too.

The other thing is painful is the realization that I will never be recognized for any of my artistic talents. All of my life, that is what I wanted to do is work in the arts. I know now that it can never happen and the dream must die. I'm too old and its too late. Thanks, mental illness. Thanks, societal prejudice. And thanks, me not believing in myself.

I wanted to cut myself so bad this morning. I didn't, but I really wanted to.

Youth is wasted on the young, by the way. The other thing that bothers me is realizing what a complete and utter fucking idiot I was when I was young. I really would love to go back in time and kick the living shit out of my ridiculous, unrealistic, pie in the sky but not willing/able to work on anything self. She was a self-centered, pathetic loser that expected fame and fortune and true love to drop out of the sky on her. Stupid, ignorant little bitch. I hate her.

I'm trying now. But I have these times when I wonder if anything will ever work out at all.

Writer's Workshop: He Who Smelt It...

The writing prompt for Kat's writer's workshop this week was "A Time You Avoided Punishment."

My brother is actually much better at this than me. I am a terrible liar and tend to get caught. But anyone who knows me for long knows that fart humor is one of my favorite things--I'm juvenile that way. And so though I have rarely avoided punishment for wrongdoing, there was a time that I avoided humiliation--and it ruled! Huh huh huh!

In my 8th grade language arts class, I sat behind this twit named John. He wasn't really a bully and I never harbored any real animosity towards him, but he was annoying and was always making stupid remarks and doing inane things like imitating me. If I sighed, he would sigh. If I had a cold, he would make snuffling noises. If I coughed, he would do an exaggerated cough. And any time I answered a question he would have some stupid remark about my answer. Basically he had all the charm of a case of crab lice.

There were two times that I got just revenge on John. The first time, I sneaked a piece of gum during class. John decided that he would also sneak a piece of gum. The teacher noticed him. She didn't notice me. The teacher decided to take a vote from the class as to whether John should have to spit out his gum. The whole time, he was protesting that I sneaked a piece of gum first. The teacher didn't believe him and everybody laughed at him.

The second moment of vengeance was even more satisfying. It was fragrant with victory. My family had eaten Mexican food for dinner the previous night and the beans were simmering in my digestive tract. I couldn't hold back any longer and let a silent one slip. I prayed that nobody would smell it. However, everyone did. And all eyes turned in the direction of...

John.

"Ewwww, gross, John!" one girl squealed.

"Dang, John!" said one of the fellows.

"But I didn't do it! She did!" John protested, pointing at me.

"Don't lie, John. You know it was you." said another of the girls.

"He who smelt it dealt it," said one of the guys.

"No! It was her!" John cried in vain. 

Nobody believed him. And I certainly didn't fess up. When we left class, he glared at me. I just smiled a satisfied smile.

Sometimes justice is served. This time was one of the best--and funniest!

Words That Hurt Me

MyNiceProfile.com

Following the prompt for the Writers Workshop, here are the words that hurt me.


What they all boil down to are you're no good, don't belong, are worthless.


"I don't want you around any more."
"I don't love you any more."
"You're weird (not in a good way.)"

The fact that I still can't get over the cruel, passive-aggressive behavior of a person I considered my friend for more than five years still haunts me. Their last words to me before refusing to ever communicate with me again were "who cares? I have real problems."

Because, I guess that having a dying father and living with suicide ideation and fighting with bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder and OCD aren't real problems. And having a house with no running water and damage from a blown water heater and mold growing under the floor weren't real problems. Nope, those are fake problems apparently.

So, I guess I am torn because I really just want to say "what a useless idiot" and have done with it.

But since I thought this person was my friend and I cared about them (although they evidently didn't give a damn about anyone but themselves)

Those words will always hurt me.

Humor Time: The Girls Don't Fart Myth

First, read the funny advice from Funny Guy of Guyspeak regarding whether or not a woman should hold in her farts.

Then read my comment.

I once read somewhere that women fart more while sleeping and our farts contain more methane. I'm not currently in a relationship and my adult son moved to his own apartment so I let rip freely as necessary. I agree that there's a time and a place to hold it in until one can get to a private place to let go, but other than that, please. Everyone cuts the cheese. If you have to let go, let go!

BTW, when my son was in high school he wanted to be the gentleman and thus held it in so as not to offend his female classmates--then saved it up for the ride home with me! Thanks, Sonny!