Set sail.

April was, I hope, the hardest month I'll face in 2014. I was in a car accident, Sam and I found a puppy who was hit by a car on Easter (more on that later), Sam moved, my knee became acutely painful, Rita was slowly slipping downhill and I couldn't help at all, with the now-constant migraines that have tainted almost everything with an aura of disbelief and pain.

Car accident.
After dodging an almost car accident five minutes previously, a woman in a huge brand-new truck cut me off in slowing traffic. I slammed on my brakes, but slid into her anyway. Her truck, thankfully, was barely damaged, but my Mini had the hook jacked up and it punctured my radiator. From punching in my clutch and brake so hard, along with the impact, I got shin splints. Getting my car into the body shop wasn't too terrible, and luckily my Italian family had a spare car, so I was able to borrow it for the ten days the Mini was in the shop. Unfortunately, when I got the car back, there were multiple problems, so I had to keep taking it back, and this naturally escalated to me complaining to the shop manager, my insurance company, etc. I got it back the Friday before Easter.

Migraines.
I had blood work done the last day of March to test my hormone levels (plus the normal yearly panel); that SAME DAY the office tried to call me with my results, which didn't make any sense. Long story short, the office MAs said "everything was normal" but that my cholesterol was high and yadda yadda. This all happened before my accident on the 4th; a few days after the accident, when my shin splint pain was intense, I tried to make an appointment and the office REFUSED to schedule me because it was the result of an accident and told me to go to the ER. This, of course, unleashed a tirade about how ridiculous it was to try and send me to the ER for a non-acute issue, when my doctor is a DO and better qualified to treat me ANYWAY. Afterwards, when I was able to check my own lab values online, it turned out that I had literally NO estrogen in my body (the range I'm supposed to be in was 42-289 and I'm less than 3), and my cholesterol was "high" because my HDL (your good cholesterol!) was so high...so the percentage of HDL/LDL was ideal. Also, take note that 85% of your cholesterol is made by your own liver, so trying to control it with diet, etc, is pretty pointless. With all of these issues...the false report of my lab results, the refusal to schedule me, etc., I had to go and complain to the Quality and Compliance managers of the medical group. I also got my hormone replacement changed, and started on a new migraine medication. I sincerely hope that my values will balance out in the next few months and these migraines will be a distant memory to that rough 6 months post-hysterectomy.

Puppy Rescue.
Sam and I had Easter with my Thompson family and later, dinner at his mom's house. (I absolutely love his family, and am all the more thankful that they're so damn awesome after the terrible experiences I had with my ex's mother.) A lady that was dining with his stepdad's family next door started walking home and then rushed back; she'd just seen a dog hit by a car and the car had kept going, and she didn't know what to do. She didn't get a license number or anything, so there wasn't anything we could technically report. Sam and I went with her down the block to look for the dog and see if it had any tags on it to contact the owners, but when we found it, it was this little pit bull puppy with a harness but no tags. She was gorgeous, and so friendly! She still had her milk teeth, she was so young. The owners of the yard she'd landed in offered to keep her until the actually owners came around in the next few days, and I gave my number just in case they DIDN'T come by (I knew that, as a pittie, she wouldn't make it at a shelter). They called in less than ten minutes because their dog was being mean to her, and they didn't want her to get more hurt while on their property. So Sam and I went and got her and took her home (only possible because my dad had left for Egypt a few days previously). She was absolutely the cutest and most playful baby, already potty trained, already fixed, and not at all aggressive with Lucy and Ethel even though they were being bitches to her. This was Sunday night, and by Wednesday night/Thursday morning, she was vomiting profusely. I'd arranged to have her meet some possibly furever home candidates that day, but we didn't even know if she'd survive...my sweet girl had parvo. By 10am on Thursday, she was unresponsive and wouldn't open her eyes even when I picked her up; she was almost gone. I couldn't afford to take her to the vet and knew they didn't have better odds than I did, so I wrapped her in a cool towel to try and bring her fever down, turkey basted pediasure into her mouth, and kept kissing her forehead. By the evening, she'd seemingly rebounded, and I doubted if it was parvo to begin with, but sure enough, she was sick again overnight. She vomited everything she tried to drink for the next two days, then the diarrhea began. She was wasting away, and it was agony to watch. I barely slept, trying to comfort her whenever she woke up to puke. I started giving her subcutaneous injections of pedialyte by day 3 to try and get/keep SOME fluids into her, and I honestly think that and the pediasure on the first day are what kept her alive. She made it through, and watching her eat food and be able to keep it down was one of the biggest sighs of relief I've ever felt. That entire week was spent solely at home, taking care of her, and I'm thankful that of all the people that might have rescued her, it was someone who COULD stay home and had such an expansive resource of friends with insights on how to keep her alive. She's now living with my friend Nat, and is named Zelda, and they're very happy together. She's my first furry goddaughter!

Sam moved.
We found Sam an apartment and he was able to move in less than 10 days after first viewing it! It's close to his work and a perfect place for him to call home until we get married and buy a house of our own. It was a unique experience; I've never moved with a partner, and knew that it would be a test to our relationship. Sam is a really amazing man...he is constantly doing small and intensely sweet/supportive things for me, like massaging my ankles and shins/calves after the accident to help with the splints, my neck and shoulders during headaches, my hand when I'm stressed. I hope that I reciprocate on the same level in different aspects, but I feel like I come up short more often than not. In this circumstance though, I knew that if I could essentially captain the moving ship, it could go smoothly, and it did! And he trusted me to do that for him, which is a testament to us as a partnership. Thankfully, my friends Jessica and Yvonne and Sam's brother Jon were able to come help us on moving day, so we got him completely moved in less than 4 hours. I bought a fridge from my friend Nichole and was able to borrow my friend Drew's truck to move that over the next day (Jessica came AGAIN that day to help me load it up!) and another friend sold us her epic bed and gave him a desk. Truly, you know the impeccable quality of your friends at times like this.

Rita.
Rita, my Jewish sass factory, passed  yesterday. I wrote a blog/letter to her here on my previous post. Her decline was a huge lesson for me, as a person/daughter/aspiring nurse. The system failed Rita, but mainly because her decisions were motivated by fear and her daughter wasn't strong enough to let her go. I've always strongly advocated for the patient (and my experiences at Sutter Coast, and especially with Case Management) gave me the skills to better do so, but I was powerless to help Rita. I have always chafed at that notion; I am very rarely powerless, I don't just sit placidly and hope for things to happen in my favor, and I'm very skilled at changing circumstances to go down a manageable route. This was not one of those times, and I think it's a very important experience to go through. People are more motivated by fear than any other emotion, and it's usually to their detriment, but you cannot make someone strong or courageous for someone else when they lack that foundation to even advocate for themselves. Truly, this highlighted that as a person and as a nurse, I can only hope to inspire by example.

Even though this might sound like a long rant of complaining, it isn't. A lot of good happened this month, it was just an unexpectedly tiring journey to get there. Life goes on. We just have to try and steer the ship in the direction we hope to go, but be prepared for when storms throw us off course, and handle the readjustment as gracefully as possible.