I haven't had a lot of time for blogging this block, and I do apologize. I'm trying this cool thing called studying more in order to increase my GPA. Also, it is mucho sports season with the kids. The boys are playing the foosball, and the daughter is playing volleyball. Well, until she did bad things to her knee. Stay tuned for diagnosis, I'm saying it looks like MCL damage.
So the really cool thing I learned this week was how to insert a Foley catheter for a dude and a chick, and how to insert an NG tube. So while I was trying to stuff a rather bendy uncooperative tube into a dude's (manikin's) nose and into his stomach, he responded by flopping around on the table and trying to jump off. I thought he was very rude. Then I was presented with a pair of pelvises that needed a Foley catheter. The thing about these skills workshops is they make it VERY easy to do the thing they are trying to teach us. Like VERY easy. It's like those toddler toys like the giant plastic hammer or the huge stethoscope. The catheter tubing seemed incredibly large, and dude, that fella's urethra seriously allowed a complete view INTO his bladder. So if you miss, people are going to laugh at you. Like for real. Thankfully, I was able to quickly and efficiently accomplish what I came to do and get signed off.
So the other thing I wanted to talk about is routine. One of the things that has helped me is getting into a groove. And by that I mean going to bed at a decent hour, getting up early enough to get out of the house, and leaving on time. I like to leave my house at 7am. Yes, it's ridiculous early, but I hate traffic, and I don't need to stomp into school with a bucket full of road rage. It doesn't make for a very good day. Test days are particularly nuts for me. I suffer from test anxiety, and one of the coping techniques I have for that is an established routine. If I'm not in my seat and breathing deeply at 7:30am, I feel really OFF. So the next thing I need to learn is not to be a complete jerk to the sunshine of my life: My HB.
We are sharing a vehicle currently since he got laid off while he was recovering from pancreatitis and the subsequent splenectomy as a result (not bitter), and lost his company car. In the practical side of my mind, it is asinine to have a perfectly usable vehicle sitting in a parking lot when my man needs a ride. In the only-child-the-world-revolves-around-me-as-always-diva part of my mind, I want that vehicle at my beck and call. SO I try to listen to the practical side of my brain, although sometimes test anxiety wins out and I take it out on my lovely sweetheart. The poor guy doesn't even get mad or argue or anything. Sometimes he even apologizes, which really makes me feel like a heel.
So my first reaction is to just decide that my need to have a routine is not valid. This isn't OK either, because it is how I cope with paralyzing test anxiety. It is a valid need that shouldn't be surrendered, and HB isn't even asking for that. It also takes the attention off the fact that I'm behaving like a Neanderthal. One of the hardest things for me is slowing down and being nice when there is conflict. No, I go all Cruella DeVille and... BRING ME THOSE PUPPIES!!!!
*Deep breath* OK I'm OK. What's really awesome is my HB has the perfect temperament, and doesn't engage my insanity and devolve into a snarl fest. He backs up and gives me some space, and when I curl up next to him later and apologize, he hugs me and forgives me and plays with my hair until I fall asleep like it never happened. I'm #blessed. F'real.