Monday, September 13, 2010

back to the beginning. pt. 1

you know,
part of the reason i find myself not blogging as much is because, quite often, (as of lately), i feel like i have to watch what i say.
i feel like i can't word things the way i FEEL....
and that when i reword them and read them over,
i don't like what i read, so i just save it as a draft and feel like i've vented, and then i'm over it.
i delete the post a few days later and it's just gone.
and that's fine.
but i miss doing what i started here in the first place.

i miss my honesty....
i hate itching in my own skin....
i say things exactly how i feel them, and although i would, one day, like to find a nicer way to say them, for now, i just can't....
and when i hold all my stuff inside, i get into these funks.
poor Jason.
he deals with my funks, and tries so hard to get me out of them.
it's nothing for him to fix though.
i don't want someone else to fix MY stuff.
because that's exactly what it is.
it's MY stuff....

so here i go with it....

i started classes for nursing, shortly after i started classes in college.
i can remember the moment i wanted to go into the medical field.
it was when my grandmother was diagnosed with colon cancer.
i was probably 2nd grade, maybe 3rd?
there was the image that is stuck in my head....
it was the dr....
walking out to the waiting room at lakewood regional hospital (or whatever it was called), and i was sitting in the uncomfortable chair, waiting.
and i am not entirely sure WHAT we were waiting for.... if it was her surgery, or just some test results, or what.
but i remember him walking out in sea green colored scrubs.
i remember the booties that covered his tennis shoes.
and i remember staring at his feet....
it was sometime in the evening and dark outside,
and i remember thinking to myself,
"we are going home and going to bed.... he isn't.... he gets to stay up late. the hospital never closes. they stay up alllll night. how cool."

little did i know, that years later, i'd realize how UNCOOL staying up all night really is....
however, i learned how COOL it is to help people, especially at such a vulnerable time in their life....
and so began my interest in the medical field.
but it wasn't until my dad was sick with cancer, that i was actually getting old enough to do something about my desire to be in the medical field.

so i became a certified nurse's assistant, a CNA.
my training was in a nursing home in a crappy area in long beach.
there were bars on the windows and the parking was so freakin tight.
i hated it.
i hated the smell of the place.
i hated that i couldn't wear the jewelry in my tragus (which was pierced at that time).
i hated that there was a psych ward there too....
so not only were there old people who couldn't take care of themselves, but there were also old crazy people who could not take care of themselves either,
and you should use the buddy system in that ward,
otherwise you could end up cornered behind a curtain with a crazy strong man who is about 50 times as strong as you, and he can (and will attack you)....
i hated that no one wanted to do the jobs that they signed up to do....
i hated that i couldn't do more....
i hated that even though 99.9% of the people were old and out of it, there were also 2 young men who were here too....
one who was paralyzed playing soccer for a university up north,
and another was a gunshot victim.
and they were totally sane,
but i was sure they'd lose their sanity if they had to stay there any longer....

there was something that just drew me in....
something that i couldn't walk away from.
and Lord knows I nearly did....

it was street sweeping day a few streets away,
and that day everyone who lived on THAT street had come to park on our street....
and they literally BLOCKED MY CAR IN....
i mean, i could NOT, for the life of me, inch my jetta out of that spot.
we had a 10 minute break, and i went out to my car....
i sat in the car with my music on and just CRIED my eyes out.
i cried so hard, i couldn't breathe.
it was still super early in the morning....
it was chilly outside, but the sun was breaking through....
it was sunny, and chilly.
and there was dew on the windows....
and i felt like i WANTED to be somewhere else....
ANYWHERE else but here....

so i called my mom.
i called her and she was still sleeping, but she took my call.
and she talked me through it.
sobbing, i asked her to "pleeeeease come pick me up. i can't do this. please just come get me. i'll come back for my car later."

you know what she told me?
"if you aren't there, who is going to do what you do for those people? you can do ANYTHING you want to do..... i KNOW you can."

i know our conversation lasted longer than those few sentences, but those few sentences were all i needed to pull the keys from my ignition and go back inside....

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

Thanks to you (and Google), I now know what a tragus is! I never knew there was a name for that part of the ear. As for your post....I'm, umm, I don't know the word to use. Not mad, not dissapointment but somewhere in the middle of those...I'm that word that you aren't blogging and speaking your mind. Don't watch your words. This is that place where you don't have to watch your words. If other people get offended, they don't have to read. No one asked them to. If they read it and get mad or whatever else, it's because they want to and personally, I think they enjoy that misery. So blog on blogger!

DL Hammons said...

Moms...the good ones...always know exactly what to say! I'm glad you have a good one. :)

Ashley King said...

i wish i knew who anonymous was!!

DL, i am thankful i had a good one too!!!! i would NOT be me if it wasn't for her and all her greatness. ;)

@ poppa, awww! thanks pop! i do want to go back to saying exactly what i want, the exact way i say it.... you know me.... there really is no filter, and when there is, it's not me! tough spot. don't like it. don't like the results, therefore, stopped producing. oh well. back to the unedited version we go.... oh dear, fasten your seatbelts.... oh wait, it's not stupid girls. ;)

Buy me a Barbie Doll said...

Ash, you are who you are, because you choose to be that person. All a parent can do is guide and set by example. The person/adult people choose to be, is their own choice!!! I love who you are and have become and am so grateful to have you as my daughter!!! I love you!!

baygirl32 said...

What amazing advice you were given (kind of chokes me up) I am a firm believer that everything happens for a reason even if we don't know what the reason is.

Its your blog, write what you want!