Another turn of the wheel.

Well here we are, another year -- another chapter, another click on the master wheel, another 12 pages in the flip-book animating our lives. I wasn't going to apologize (yet again) for not writing regularly enough, but I will. Otherwise I will feel ungrateful. I come here daily and am always glad to see what's happening in this small enclave of my life. In some cases it is really the only contact I have with some people. I gratuitously share in everyone's ups and downs and they counterpoint my own.

So here in this little nook of the internet, I wish all of my long and dear friends a Happy and Healthy New Year -- may you be able to wring the coming months of all the happiness and success that they're able to give up. May you have moments where your heart sings, where your breath is taken away, and where you are brought to tears with something other than pain. May you take at least one quiet night to step outside and look up, realizing that when you do, your loved ones are all looking at the same stars and are not so very far away from your heart.

And with that out of the way ... what else has been going on?

The holidays were nice, simple but nice. We're still strapped, but moving forward. If we stay according to plan we'll be in much better shape by September of this year. We managed not to overdo Christmas. Chris and I really didn't exchange much of anything, focusing all on the kids. The grandparents and aunt were a big help. We celebrated Yule here on the 27th with just a few friends and folks from Chris's group. We were both actually off on New Year's Eve and had no idea what normal people do for that. So we hung out with the kids and watched the ball drop, then drifted upstairs to bed, content to call it a year.

I'm approaching my one year since leaving DragonRealms. I miss it, I do. I miss the fun that I used to have there and I certainly miss some of the people, though happily some have still stayed in touch. Ultimately it was the best decision that I've made for me in years. I do not think I was ever aware of the amount of investment I was making with no return. Plus I was at the point where I just was not contributing to my potential, I'm sure my departure didn't even ripple. Walking away from it was as if I'd been walking in knee-deep mud for so long and now my footing is on solid ground again. I did dabble in a couple of games afterward, but I walked away from them too. I just don't want to get sucked in again. I'm focused on other things right now, I'm more invested in my marriage and family and it was the right thing to do for me. There were toxic people in my life as a result of gaming and it's an absolute relief to have nothing more to do with them. The sudden sense of isolation was difficult at first, now it doesn't matter. I rarely put my AIM on, though I think you can access me via it to my phone. I do use Gtalk daily -- mainly because it's what my husband uses and so he can reach me in my office. It was an odd adjustment not plugging into the message matrix daily, and having my lists go from triple digits down to a dozen or less. But anyone who wants to reach me can and if you want any contact information you can't find here, just ask. I'm very active on Facebook right now, and you can find me on Plaxo too.

Professionally I'm doing well. I'm overdo for my yearly evaluation as a training chief. I expressed some concern about my performance to my boss in my last monthly report and his response was, "You're doing a better job at your job than I could do...and about anyone else for that matter." So I guess that means I'm chugging along. My first article outline was accepted by a national trade journal -- I finished the article two days ago and am working on revisions this weekend. She wants two more outlines as well so it looks like I will be published by the time I'm 40. Yay! I also have a strongly worded suggestion that I develop some talks and consider speaking at some of the national conferences. Absolutely terrifying thought but what a great opportunity.

The neurologist can't tell me what's in my brain. He can tell me what it's not -- it's not Multiple Sclerosis, Lyme's Disease or even Lupus. It's not rare early-Alzheimer's or Parkinson's. But he's not willing to say it's artifact and he's not sure what it is. He said it's probably not a mass, because it wasn't "bright enough" under contrast, but he's not committing to that either. I told him that this was not a very satisfying answer, but what else is there to do? I go back in June to repeat the whole freaking process over and see if it changes size or shape. Oh, unless I become symptomatic between now and then of course ...

So now that the head is under control I guess we can't leave well enough alone. Shortly before Christmas I was driving to work for yet another double when I had an episode of palpitations and chest tightness. I noted the time, tracked the symptoms and generally went on with my day. And if any of you have anyone in health care you will understand that our control issues make us some of the WORST patients ever. Anyway I was ok the rest of the day. I continued to have episodes off and on for a couple of days, no pain or anything, mostly just the palpitations. On Sunday after the holiday I got up to go to the office. I made it a mile from my house and it felt like I got kicked in the chest and this time I broke out into a cold sweat. So ... I pulled over and had a ten minute debate with myself about it. Ultimately I decided that if I were my own patient I know what I would say, so I made the right turn and drove to the hospital. When they put me on the monitor they were like, "Guess what? It's not all in your head." So six hours and multiple tests later I got sent home pending a cardiology evaluation. Again what is it not? Well it wasn't a heart attack (yay me), a blood clot in my heart or lungs (yay again) and all of my bloodwork came up good. Even my blood pressure was ok and my borderline diabetes test from last year now comes up within normal range. What it is is a dysrythmia, for some reason my ventricles are having episodes where they're kicking out extra beats when they shouldn't -- that's what I'm feeling in my chest when it happens. So now I'm on aspirin and a drug that makes me have LOTS of dreams and thus I do not sleep that well, but I'm highly entertained at least. I see the cardiologist on the 12th and I have to rush back to the hospital if I get a prolonged episode or have actualy pain. Oh and by the way ... I work too much, don't get enough sleep, am mildly dehydrated most of the time and my diet sucks. Upshot? It aint the coffee.

The kids are doing really well. Heidi's currently waiting to hear her results from a placement test which will allow her to attend one of NYC's technical high schools. She's decided that she wants to be an aeronautical engineer and really has her eye on the prize. She's ridiculously smart and works hard. Other than that it's typical goth-flavored teenager stuff. She going to be the beautiful nerd that catches everyone off-guard with her brilliance. Owen's doing so much better in school this year. He's the gamer kid, the skater, the athletic one. It's so much better than a couple of years ago. He shows real talent in the kitchen and of the four of them he's my sous chef, he's actually made noises that that's what he'd like to do. James's hearing is around the same, gets a little worse in the winter. I'm looking for some sign language classes for us to attend, maybe over the summer. I really feel he needs to be prepared with alternate communication, just in case. His teacher this year is awesome, much better than last year. She works well with him and doesn't take his drama seriously. He's above his grade in all his subjects. He also reads at 72 words per minute according to the testing, which they were flabbergasted by -- until I pointed out that all the TVs at home are on closed captioning so he can enjoy his shows. He's a normal, annoying seven-year old, who wears orange paisley hearing aids and is ok with that.

As for the Evil Diva, little Miss Meredith Skye? She is amazing, even if I wasn't biased she'd be amazing. She speaks in 5 word sentences, can tell you what a fossil is, can count over 20, do simple math and sight words, draws pictures with faces and advanced problem solving? Forget about it. And she won't even be three until this coming Monday. Ever since she's been old enough to make her first choice everything has to be on her terms. She spends more time in time-out than any of the others did at her age. She has strawberry blond curls down to the middle of her back, huge grey eyes and I really cannot wait to see what she does with her powers.



I think that's all the news that's I can think of right now.

Shadows on the Brain

"A hero is no braver than an ordinary man, but he is braver five minutes longer." - Ralph Waldo Emerson

My mother hates aging.  It's been a constant source of stress for her as long as I can remember.  Dreading every birthday, every milestone, never willing to raise her head up from what's passed to what's been achieved.  No amount of positive reinforcement or attempts at support have been able to change this.  It's not a condemnation, merely an observation of her tenacious hold on this perspective.

Now that I'm traveling the middle of my own road the latter half of the journey looms before me in a dark nebulous fog, obscuring the final destination.  I find my thoughts turning to subjects that a couple of decades ago were as foreign to me as calculus remains to this day.  I am at times frustrated and betrayed by my body, dislike the grey hair and everything I want to do requires extra effort or additional consideration now.  It's plain and true that I do not have the stamina I once did.  This isn't a lamentation of grief or regret, merely acceptance of where I am.

The truth is that I like my age, I prefer the "now" to the "then" and try not to worry about what the "might be."  Though admittedly, I wouldn't mind having this brain in my 20 year old self but then that's the price of wisdom I guess.  Obviously health is a concern, things I totally took for granted a lifetime ago now sit next to me on the couch and patiently wait their turn for my attention.

Several weeks ago I had numbness in my left arm that spread to my face.  I waited only slightly longer than the average person before quietly making my home arrangements and driving myself to the hospital.  I won't go into my overall opinions on the level of care I received except to say I had my boys on medevac on standby to come and get me if my CT scan showed anything on it at all.  Fortunately it was not heart or stroke - related.  The most likely culprit is a pinched nerve in my neck (the result of carrying a heart monitor over my left shoulder for the last 20 years) and I was sent home, to follow up with a MRI of the brain and neck.  Not the most fun experience in the world but certainly nothing horrendous.  Then we get the results ...

I have some mildly bulging discs in my neck, changes in my lifting habits and possibly a chiropractor should take care of that.  The brain MRI however, was not completely negative as expected.  There are "changes in the white matter that are normally associated with microvascular disease and are atypical in a patient of this age." 

And there ... just like that I went from feeling ok about where I am to utter terror.  One of my basest fears is that I will become trapped in my body or that what makes me who I am will erode, that a day will come where I do not recognize my children or remember all the wonderful things of my life any longer.

You know what changes white matter?  MS (multiple sclerosis), Alzheimer's, Parkinson's, a dozen different dementias that have pointless names and the same horrible end result.  I've spent a good portion of my career caring for the gibbering wraiths that are the defenseless victims of this eroding process.  The mere prospect of subjecting my family to the same thing is a horror that devastates me and brings fear where there was none.

Chances are good that it is artifact on the MRI and not indicative of anything of significance.  However while I am idealistic, blind optimism is not my forte and to be honest, there's no point in pretending I'm not scared.  I just need to go and hear what the neurologist has to say, do whatever other tests he may want and take it from there.  Hopefully it will be just artifact and life will go on as it is and I will be able to face the rest of my journey will my faculties intact.

There's a whole lot of other stuff happening around here but that what was on my mind.  Ha ha ha.

Ouch

It's not like I don't have anything to post ... I just don't have the time or energy.  Every spare iota I have goes to my kids.  When I can be coherent I'll put something of an update together.

I'm working 70+ hour weeks right now and at the end of the day there's apathy and exhaustion.  I'm doing the best I can, but this is what I found on my nightstand the other day when I got up from my woefully inadequate sleep ration:



"I know what to do."  That means the morning mantra, "Be good in school, do your work and don't screw around.  Mommy loves you." Course school is where he learned to read and write his heart wrenching requests.

Yes, those are three smiling hearts with M, D & J on them.  You guessed it, "Mommy, Daddy and James."

We did in fact stay home the next day.  Who needs sleep anyway ...

Happy New Year!

Despite some significant lows in the past year I cannot argue the positives.  I feel really good about the upcoming year -- this is my last year of my 30's and I want to approach the second half of my life full of the hopes and dreams that my path to date have managed to shape.  I want so much, not only for myself but for my family as well. 

Chris asked Heidi tonight what she wanted for the new year and her answer?  "I think Tracey should write a book."  Who knows, maybe this year I'll manage it.

Happy New Year to you and yours ... here's to bright thoughts and hopes and dreams.  Welcome to 2008.

And for posterity, here they are in all their glory (Heidi & Owen up top, James & Meredith on the bottom) ...

Where did she go?

As I watch Meredith grow and learn I am sometimes struck hard by the thought that 35 years ago my mother was in the same point of her life.  That she most likely watched me at age 2 and perhaps was filled by the same love and wonder that I am, the indescribable bittersweet anticipation about how she will turn out and if I will do alright as her mother.

I miss my mother.

I wanted to be like my mother.

Not the woman who is there now, consumed in body and spirit by the ravages of her addictions -- but the woman who was.

The woman who would sit and talk about books and authors with me, not the one who hasn't even glanced at the book I'm featured in (even though she's had an author-autographed copy since it was published).

The woman who would tell me I was beautiful and meant it, not the one who laments to others -- "She used to be so beautiful, but she won't lose the weight.  Such a shame."

The woman who told me I could be a writer, or a vet, or anything I wanted to be.  Not the one who drinks her vodka and tap water and tells her friends what a huge disappointment I am because I never got a degree.

The woman who would bring me orange Hi-C and stroke my hair when I had a fever when I was sick, not the one who didn't show up for either of the births of my children or even come to see me when I was confined with high-risk pregnancies.

The woman who could walk into a college, take a course just because it interested her, get an A and walk out again for a year, who faced challenges without blinking an eye -- not the one who faked a stroke just to get me to come see her while she was binging.

The woman who couldn't cook worth a damn but remembered your favorite foods on your birthday or baked your favorite cake, not the one who hasn't remembered either of my children on their birthday.  Not even Meredith's first birthday -- which I think might be a Grandparent cardinal sin.

The woman who I could come to with my boyfriend woes, or speak frankly about sex with -- not the one who feels that I should've married the abusive alcoholic I was with when I was 21.  "He may have been a drunk, but at least James wouldn't be deaf."

Please.  Don't let me be like my mother.

Daywalker

In the Blade series he's referred to as a "Daywalker" -- loosely he has vamp abilities but can move about safely in daylight.  Not ever fully one or the other it's both a benefit and a curse.  That's how I feel right now, I'm uncomfortable in my skin all the time.  I'm in one world by my own choice and due to that choice I don't totally belong to the other one any longer.  I feel distant and isolated, technically I don't even look like myself anymore.  Or at least the self that everyone knows me as.

I like the new role I'm in, but the adjustment is hard on a few levels.  Some weeks it's easier and others not so much.  I'm able to get up at the ungodly hour of 4am and actually get out the door reasonably on time, but by the end of the day I'm just drained.  Getting out at 2pm sounds really good, I should have the rest of the day to be productive.  However so far I'm just too tired by the time I get home and wind down to do much more than prepare for the next day.  It is slowly getting better, I know I can't cancel out 15 years of nights in several weeks, but it's frustrating.  Five days is a lot for someone who's had a three day base for so long, plus the gas hurts.  My boss is letting me tailor a four day schedule at the end of this month, I'm hoping that will help all around.

I am still unsure of myself and my scope of authority.  My boss is a good guy and a strong leader, I would not taken this position if he was not in the role he's in.  He and I went to medic school together, so we've known each other 20 years now.  He's worked hard to get himself where he's at and I can learn a lot from him, though of course he doesn't make it easy.  I left an arena where I was the alpha (and referred to as such), I didn't give myself the nickname of La Reina.  Put me knee deep in body parts among flaming vehicles and I'm in my element, in a board room I find myself becoming shy and reticent.  Big fish in a little pond back scooped up and dropped into one of the Great Lakes.

Even my friends aren't sure where to categorize me.  On the one hand they've been awesomely supportive, insisting that I'm perfect for the job.  Just the other night one crew said to me that now they would respect the QA process, because it's me and if I come to them saying a correction needs to be made, that they'd know it was from someone who knew what they were talking about and wasn't looking to bust balls.  That really really meant a lot.  Yet at the same time, they stop talking at points in the conversation now and look at me in askance as if they're worried I'll turn "boss" and someone will get in trouble.  Another person has to qualify that he wants to talk to "old Tracey" when he wants to talk "normally."  My former partner doesn't really talk to me at all.  She doesn't call or return mine, not even the text messages.  When I finally catch up with her she gives me a bunch of excuses, "We're on different time zones now."  I know how she's feeling, I've been through it a time or two.  I know why it is that this stuff happens, doesn't make it any easier.

Of course the insult to injury is that I actually bring home less money right now.  I knew this was going to happen, it was my biggest fear considering our current financial status.  But it's true, I'm bringing home as much as $300 less a month because I've lost my night differential and overtime.  Now eventually I can make that up because I am allowed to take overtime, but right now I have way too much on my plate in order to manage it.  I'm actually going to have to get a part time medic job, one for the money and two because I want to keep doing patient care.  I left my last per diem medic job back in 2000.  It's just funny, get a promotion, work harder, make less.

I don't mean to be all glum about it either, as I said I like the job.  It's different and it's challenging and I think that if done correctly I will eventually be able to have a positive impact on the department's standards of care.  I don't have the stress of being late or waiting for relief, because unless I have a meeting scheduled I am my own entity.  I have a lot of freedom and my boss trusts me, even though I'm brand new in the job he wants me to find my feet and supports my decisions.  I'm the only female Chief in the department and that's something too.  I don't imagine I will be too popular with some when it comes to remediations and corrective actions, but it's in an area that I feel strongly about -- patient care.  I want us as a department to return to a gold standard, not just a ghetto one.  I think I can help achieve that with where we're at now so long as I am fair and stand my ground.  Long as I have my sunglasses of course ... that yellow orb is vicious!

My kids like the new schedule.  My son loves when I pick him up at the bus stop in my gold badge and all.  They love having me here in the evenings and with weekends off we do family dinners all the time now.  I'm able to sleep so long as I don't ignore bedtime.  If I push past 9:30 though ... night mode kicks in and I have a tough time of it.  I do find that I eat less working days and I don't have any really periods where I'm truly dragging.  With the short work day it seems like just when I'm getting a little tired, it's time to go.  If I can get my time management skills working I'm hoping to get to the gym regularly in the afternoons again, which I think will make a big difference in how I'm feeling.  With Chris still working nights we have to get creative with scheduling our time together but he remains 100% behind the decision to take this job.  I don't think he realizes how much this has meant to me and kept me going.

Financially we're hanging on by the skin of our fingertips.  Just like a lot of people I'm sure I don't know at which point we went flailing past the potential point of no return, but here it is.  All I can do is try to stay positive and control the spending as much as possible, I'm working on some side efforts to help bring in income and I need to face the fact that I may end up having to get over my personal fears and start writing as a means to help my family.  Stephen King couldn't even afford his own phone when he wrote Carrie so I'm sure I'm not the only person in such a boat.  Chris sold off a few things and next stop is Ebay for some of the things collecting dust around here.

The kids are doing great, Heidi is at that awful time where she's a kid stuck in a woman's body.  So long as you dont remind her of it she's pretty happy.  Terribly smart, voracious reader, loves her fantasy and gothic worlds just as much as she enjoys George Orwell and Stephen King.  Still her her horse phase with no interest in hair/skin care or the opposite sex and I have no interest in rushing her.  Owen's overall attitude is better since Chris worked with him over the summer, they take mixed martial arts classes and he's been doing all his homework thus far.  He even admitted to me last night that he actually likes coming here, with his big snaggle-toothed grin. 

James is speaking so well and still loves school.  His teacher's stricter than last year and she and I don't communicate as much or as well as his kindergarten teacher BUT the results are good.  He can read and write and is doing well with math.  He has his "best friends" Brody and Willow and can usually at least tell me some things he does during the day.  We have him in Irish stepdancing class now.  Ok ... stop chuckling.  ;)  I wanted him in a dance like tap, because the percussion is easy for him to follow.  Turns out there's a decent Irish school right in town so over the summer we gave it a shot.

He's a complete spaz with bricks for feet but slowly but surely he's getting the hang of it and he loves it.  He's the only boy in his class with all these blond and red-headed gazelles who just fawn over him.  His favorite tutor is Lindsay, one of the champion dancers.  She's got legs a mile long and long blond hair and adores him.  As his teacher pointed out, "When he's a little older he may hate you."  She looks around the room at the girls and grins, "When he's a LOT older, he'll love you."  I have to agree.

Meredith.  What can I say about her besides the fact she is evil incarnate.  Yes Tribanin, she trumps James for pure evilness.  Why?  Because she also has this wicked sense of humor and is totally deliberate in her mischief.  She's fully aware of her own charms and uses them to her advantage and in her defense.  And I can honestly say she does look like me, except for the riotous mass of blonde curls atop her head.

We went to Quiet Valley last weekend for their Harvest Festival, an 18th century recreationalist farm not far from here.  (www.quietvalley.org)  The kids ate homemade pretzels and shoo-fly pie, decorated pumpkins and threw corncob darts.  They learned about beekeeping and cheesemaking and watching the Civil War regiment work with their rifles. 

As I watched the four of them sit quietly together listening to a candlemaker, I smelled the nearby woodsmoke and noticed the turning leaves surrounding them.  I'm reminded not only about how much I love autumn each year, but that my own autumn is coming as well -- and I'm really proud of my harvest.

Into the breach ... one last time

Sometimes all that glitters, really IS gold ... much like the badge they just handed me.

Several months back I had mentioned applying for a promotion.  After going through alot of soul searching, three torturous interviews and much personal angst -- the hospital took away the position due to budget, four hours before the pick was supposed to be made official.  I took that as a sign and went back to my life and career as it was.

Now that the hospital's recovered, a couple of months ago they re-opened the position and approved it as a permanent position for the department.  This time around it was only two torturous interviews and a moderate amount of personal angst.  The rest has been a whirlwind.

I got the promotion, I am now the Training Supervisor in charge of QA/PI (quality assurance / performance improvement).  Basically I'm the clinical educator you see if there are problems or if training/remediation needs to be developed.  I have a workstation in headquarters and my own seperate office.  My own office, name on the door (eventually) and everything.

My schedule changes effective this coming Monday -- weekdays for now, reasonable hours, flexible.  I don't have to wait for relief or worry if I'm a few minutes late.  If my kid has an appointment or I need to do something during the day, I just change my schedule.  For the first couple of months I am supposed to work 5 days a week until I'm settled, after that I can adjust it how I prefer.  It's days, but if I start at 6am I'm out by 2pm.  That means I get home in time to pick up my son from the bus and spend the balance of the afternoon and evening with my children.  Plus I will get to have family dinner and put them to bed each night.

I get holidays off, damn.  Now what I am going to use an excuse to get out of FFF (forced family fun)!

This really is an enormous change for me, probably the biggest one of my adult life.  Yes yes, marriage, children, house, I was able to evolve with that.  But being a street medic is what I do, it's been part of who I am for two decades now.  I cannot fathom that I don't have to put on the uniform Saturday night and go to work.  That I will have to worry about traffic and parking, with a whole new sea of faces to become accustomed to.  That I will go to bed at a "normal" time and won't be up and chatty at 3am for no good reason.  That I have my own fax and voice mail, a staff of two and folks calling me "Chief."  I can't lie and say I'm not overwhelmed and half-tempted to scurry back into the anonymity of the box.

Everyone has been really supportive and I was actually surprised by the sincere happiness and complimentary comments I've gotten at the news.  It's been very bittersweet, knowing that I have to leave some of them and that my relationships will change.  Some of the ER nurses cried when I told them, others jumped up and down for me and one or two cussed me out for leaving them.  I at least had one last night with my partner and my team.

I am a superstitious creature by nature, nobody can do the job that I have for as long as I have -- and not realize that there are more things under Heaven and Earth than one can shake a stick at.  So I do tend to read into things, looking for omens and portents.  After I found out that I'd gotten the promotion a few things happened, someone crashed "my" ambulance, my belt cracked and ... my boots broke.  I have never had that happen before, the heel weld came undone and was just hanging from the boot.  All I can garner from this is that perhaps I should take the freakin' hint and realize that it's alright to move on and accept the change.

I made Chris fix my boots with Gorilla glue so that I could wear them one last time.  Once more, into the breach ...

Wednesday night was fairly painless as far as work goes, but internally it was excruciatingly poignant.  I kept thinking about, "this is the last time this" or "won't have to do this anymore."  Charlene and I managed to keep up brave faces, but she's one of my best friends and we've been full-time partners for two years now.  Anyone who's worked in a related field knows how strong a partner relationship can be and saying good-bye to that was awful.  The dispatchers final gift was to make sure I did practically no work, I guess so that I'd have time with everyone.  They evenly dispersed my assignments to other units, or the other guys picked them up voluntarily (even when I tried).  At midnight they called everyone back to headquarters where as tradition dictates they had a "surprise" cake waiting for me.  Char tried to fib about why we had to go back, but ... duh.  A couple of the other Chiefs were there and one took my arm in his and escorted me into the conference room, instructing me that he did not want to see tears.

There in that room that hasn't really changed in 20 years, stood a couple of dozen people -- some of which who I've spent half of my life with.  They clustered around a simple decorated chocolate cake that had my new assignation on it in big colored frosting, "Congratulations 419!" They applauded me and I was doing alright, until Charlene spoke up.  She thanked me and told me that it was because of me that she'd turned out as good a medic as she had, and that she'd miss me.  And naturally once the tears started they made sure to take lots of pictures, the bastards.  The other Chief spoke up about his memories of me and the group lapsed into reminiscing about old times and the people gone before.  All throughout assignments kept coming in and folks would go in and out, I noticed this because it reminds me of the nature of the business.  It really doesn't matter that I'm leaving, the jobs will still come in and folks will still go to them.  The world does not halt for me or because of me, there are plenty of others that will come after who will make their own unique marks.  Yes, I know I'm not leaving the department, but just because I'm there does not mean I'm still *there*.

The sun came up as it always does, the shifts changed and the next tour went to work.  Charlene and I sat outside and watched the business, not looking at each other too much because doing so made us glassy-eyed and we were determined to avoid a breakdown.  I passed her my scissors, the red-handled trauma shears with an oxygen key attached that come with me to work every night.  Told her that they were the keys to the Kingdom and that I'd taught her all I could, it was her job to be the alpha female now and make sure folks do the right thing.  Then the day went on without us.

I hope that I do a good job, I think I will and I am looking forward to the change and the challenge.  It doesn't make this any less difficult or less emotional for me.  Charlene put it best in talking to a frightened patient we were working on one night.

"Don't worry.  This isn't just our job, it's what we do."

It's what I do.  I'm not sure what it is I *do* now, but hopefully I'll be able to make it my own.

New day, new breach to travel into.