A journal of healing

A pending disaster

People do not listen. They do not know when they are in trouble and need to do something. We have a situation in my little village that is causing a big riff and issues. I am amazed at the shortsightedness of people and the easily swayed political officials.

We are surrounded by the Erie Canal. It goes right through the heart of the village and on to the neighboring suburbs. It is what makes my village so quaint and desirable. We have waterfront. The canal is actually higher than the surround neighborhoods on one side.    

When the canal was built, they shored up the sides with a process they called a dam. It is different than a bank which is level with the canal and surrounding area. A dam is higher than the surrounding land. Without going into a lot of detail, it is basically layered rocks and soil. It was built in a specific way to be supportive. It was not built however to support trees and bushes. They are the issue.


For the early years of the canal, the dams were kept clear. No trees and bushes. If you look at old pictures, you can see this. Where I live, in the early years, the lands surrounding the canal were farm land. There were one or two major properties with acreage. Now the land supports hundreds of houses. They are technically in a flood plain. Many of the properties who have the canal in their backyard have many trees and shrubs for privacy. They do not own the land, the Canal Authority does.

The trees and bushes undermine the dams. The Canal Authority is looking at doing a clear cut and removing the trees and shrubs. In doing so will expose the properties to the public who use the canal path for recreation. It is beautiful to glide down the canal in a boat or ride your bike on the path. It is heavily used in this area. The removal will expose all the properties lining the path. The vegetation is mostly invasive plants and trees also. That is why there is so much overgrowth.

Some of the wealthiest people live along the canal. Some people have petitioned to stop the cutting and cleaning up of the dam embankments. They won recently putting a halt on the process for now. Stupid is as stupid does.

Several years ago, the canal split opened and poured out its water into the low lying area down from my village. So many houses had four and five feet of water in them. Fortunately, the canal was “drained” but it still had at least three feet of water in it. It was a stretch of the canal that is actually concrete because it goes over a stream. The supporting soil and sand washed out and the concrete was not supported and a fell into the stream below, flooding the neighborhood.

I used to live in a neighborhood that is below a major portion of the canal. The canal actually bends around the neighborhood. When I bought my property almost thirty years ago, the basement was dry. There was no sump pump. The basement in time became very damp. We had to run a de-humidifier. In the fifteen years living there, I noticed more dampness every year. One time, the soil in the back of the house right up on the foundation washed away. That wall in the basement was constantly damp. No one knew why it was because there was no gutter draining there or other water source on the property. I remember that the person we called to look at the basement said that there were a lot of people in the area who were having basement water issues in the neighborhood. He said it was because the water table had increased in the area due to the canal leaking. I moved into the village shortly after that. (Not for that reason)

I feel like I am in a movie when it comes to this subject. This is a disaster waiting to happen. The Johnston Flood that killed hundreds was caused by an earthen dam that collapsed, much like what it on this section of the Erie Canal. And much like the Johnston flood, a select few very wealthy men knew of the possibility and did nothing. I have been involved with a core of people who are writing petitions and posting information. I pray that someone will listen and save everyone from a disaster.



Change is needed

            My Doves

I lived with “gun fanatics” all my life. I found in my father’s archives a Lifetime member certificate for him. The date was my birth day. I started shooting when I was eight. I was good. I married someone who was fanatical about guns.  He wasn’t when I first met him. My father turned him on to guns. Then he started hanging out with other gun fanatics. He became a cop. His career was being the head of the firearms training academy.

Everything we did was centered on guns. Our friends all shot. Some were police, others were sportsmen, and one owned a gun shop.  Every weekend was about shooting. Even some of the women shot. I did not.

They ate, drank and talked incessantly about guns, gun control and how unfair it would be if they had stricter gun control. As time went on, the group became more militant and also more narrow minded, putting it too nicely. They hated everyone who was not white, Christian and straight. Somehow, I ended up in a nightmare. But this is not about that, it is about the mindset.

Yes, they had assault weapons. Why? I could never see the beauty in them like I good well-designed wooden rifle. My father had two collectable rifles which he used for competitive shooting of clay pigeons. He belonged to a gun club where he socialized. The group my husband hung with went to ranges or private locations which had set up assault fields. They were tactical ranges where you had to shoot around things. In all the times I went along, I never saw anyone use a military rifle to practice in competition. It was always hand guns. Why did they have the military guns? Because….. just because.

I am long out of that group and divorced. But I saw what happened and witnessed the hatred and bigotry first hand. I actually was on the receiving end of it often. Sometimes it was like living with a powder keg. The fuse was there. Fortunately, there were few kids. Most of the couples did not have children, including us. But if there had been, I could easily see how their minds would have been melted by the warped narrow thinking that permeated this clan. And they would have access to an arsenal.

I have always said and will say this until I die….there is no reason for guns in civilian hands, especially military grade artillery. (See how well I fit in before?) You want to shoot something, get a paintball gun. I also am not into hunting and see no need for that for most people. If you feed your family off of hunting, then I understand. But the group I was in all had enough money and there were plenty of stores around. Yes I understand the skeet and being a marksman and all. But then we used to throw people to the lions for entertainment. Isn’t there something less harmful you can do? There is no other activity on earth that makes sport of killing. It strips the humanity out of the significance of life.

This blog says it better than I can. https://agingmillennialengineer.wordpress.com/2018/02/15/fuck-you-i-like-guns-2/  This is a man who is an Army Vet. He says it all about why do we have assault weapons for civilian use.

We need to do something about better gun control. There is absolutely no reason for military weapons to be available to anyone other than the military. We need to have stricter control and better training for people who have guns in their homes. I agree with the concept of licensing and recertifying to be able to have guns, whether they are long guns or not.

The government can regulate anything it wants to the ridiculousness in the name of protecting the people. For example, my washing machine was redesigned to protect people from hurting themselves by reaching in the tub when it is running. Really? If you put your hand in a spinning machine, you get what you get. But they will allow a child to buy a gun. Anyone else see the problem with this?

Fighting auto-immune disease

I am in a battle of my life, really and truly. I have auto-immune diseases. It is a fight many people participate in. But for me, I have the stigma of being fat. It is the first thing that medical providers hone in on, sometimes exclusively. But now I am in another tail spin. Let me explain.

I have psoriatic arthritis, PsA, and Psoriasis, P. I was diagnosed with them after I went through a horrific time in my life. I was divorcing after twenty-seven years with an abusive husband. I had to sell the home we lived in for fifteen years as part of the settlement. I lost my job that I loved, although there were some real stinky issues there too. I basically lost everything. But I got through it and then, I moved into a great house and went back to school. My life turned out great. But my body suffered from all the trauma and stress.

I ended up in the hospital with blot clots. The clots resolved themselves and I was truly blessed because there was one very close to my heart. I was put on Coumadin for life. People were quick to say, “Fat girl has fat blood and hence her issues.” Nope. I have an inherited disease call Factor V Leiden. It comes from my father’s side. It has absolutely nothing to do with being fat. But after being in the hospital, they put me on a strong regiment of blood thinners to the point I bled out. They needed to stop my periods. That was another battle but finally I had a hydro thermal ablation.  But the anemia and other issues took a toll on my body.

I was on a path of a wonderful new life. I was happy. I met a great guy. I loved my house. Life seemed great. But this weird rash appeared when I was going through the divorce. It got constantly worse, spreading all over my body. I itched. I went to the dermatologist who had no idea what it was. I also noticed that I was having pain, achy pain in my joints. Not enough to slow me down at first. I used to play tennis three times a week, mow my lawn and walk all over the place. I had always been a large active person.

I was teaching at the time and some days I could not stand for very long and walking became painful. I bought ugly shoes and went to the doctor. Her diagnosis was I was fat. “Lose weight” was the prescription and take Advil. So I took mega doses of Advil. Finally, when my hands started to turn into claws, they paid attention. I would sit and cry for hours from the dull burning that radiated in my body. It is hard to explain the pain to anyone who does not have this disease. My skin looked like I had the measles and I would scratch to the point where I would wake up with blood stained sheets from scratching in the night. I did not sleep for more than two hour blocks.

I was tested for rheumatoid disease and came back with a confirmed diagnosis of PsA and P. My life changed completely. I went on prednisone, methotrexate, and continued with Advil when needed. I felt better, but the results from those drugs impacted me in a bad way. My kidney crashed. I lost all function on the right kidney. I had been peeing blood for months, but they said it was the Coumadin. It wasn’t.

My glucose has always been low, much to the chagrin of doctors in the past who expected high glucose because I am fat. We do not have diabetes in the family. My A1c went from 5 to 13. Hello!!!  I also gained 30 pounds in a very short time. They took me off the prednisone and then the methotrexate. I would get very sick after I would take my shot. My body was telling me to stop. Next, they tried me on Humira, which did nothing, and then Enbrel. The Enbrel worked for 8 years. I started getting horrible cramps everywhere in my body and the pain came back. I also slowly put on weight that would not come off. This also is a known side effect of Enbrel. All the drugs I have taken, except Otezla which made me feel sick all the time, are known for weight gain as a side effect.

For the next three years, I went through a series of taking every drug on the market for PsA. I had horrible reactions such as feeling hung over to not being able to walk from the pain. I had horrible IBS brought on by these drugs. I could not go anywhere including going to work in the morning without the fear of crapping myself. And I had a few episodes where I did. It was humiliating and horrendous.

My kidney that had gotten better was starting to decline. I passed over 50 kidney stones. I have about twenty in a box. Some were huge and the doctor took them. They were all uric acid based stones which is a product of PsA. There were stones in the right kidney that were too big to pass. I spent days in agony when I was passing a stone, but I still went to work. I passed one at work. Talk about a high pain threshold.

In 2016, we decided to try Humira one more time since it was all that was left. It almost killed me. My glucose steadily inclined, my kidney function declined and all the while I was steadily gaining weight. I was miserable. It is hard to understand the frustration and discomfort of not having control of your health. And mine was getting worse in the name of drugs.

Finally, last year, I was put on the most expensive PsA drug out there: Stelara. One shot costs $20,000. I had to exhaust all other options before the insurance would cover it. It is a miracle. I have little to no psoriasis. My PsA pain was vastly better. But by now, I have lost a lot of my stamina. There is damage in my joints that will never repair. I need to have my one ankle fused but I refuse. I have damage in my spine and hips. But I had the best mobility with Stelara. I have been on it for a year.

Because of the elevated glucose, the Doctor put me on Januvia. Januvia passes sugar out the kidney. Not a smart choice for someone with kidney disease. He finally changed it and I am on a new drug which is not really working and my A1c has risen again. I got a note from the nurse from my doctor’s office saying, “the Doctor wants you to watch your diet. Eat less carbs and sugar.” I was so pissed and will say something when I see him.

I just went and had my blood tests done. I am in big trouble. My kidney function is now stage four CKD. There was a slight improvement since I retired, but not enough to put me back to stage 3. My blood pressure has been up and now I have awful cholesterol reading. It has jumped up 114 points in one year. My cholesterol has been normal most of my life.  Both the BP and cholesterol is due from the Stelara.  It is a known side effect.

So now what? I do not know. I see the doctor on Friday. I swear if he says it’s because I am fat I am going to walk out of the office. He usually is pretty good about things. I would have to be eating pure fat for that amount of increase. And, I don’t eat a lot of fat. I do not even eat meat. But I should not have to justify myself but I will be ashamed because that it the reaction I have. I will be made to be guilty of gluttony. Meanwhile, I have a situation that needs to be dealt with. When you have Factor V, the last thing you want is more reasons to have clots. And when you have high cholesterol, it also raises you blood glucose, which has been an issue with all the drugs I am on.

I feel out of control and I admit, very depressed. This was supposed to be a happy time for me since I retired. I will say that I am much more active than when I was working. I spend most days working on physical projects in the house. My mobility and stamina is much better.  I have noticed the difference. But I am scared that my recourse is to come off the Stelara, or take more drugs.  It is like being a prisoner in your own body.


Hatred: a Learned Behavior

Currently I am reading “Shrill”, a book by Lindy West. It is not for the easily offended reader. She is a comedian and is very funny. But she is also FAT. Lindy is a true Fat activist and writes for about the struggles she has. She deals with hate every day. But she wants to change the world and I think she has many valid points. She says, “Being fat is like walking around with a sandwich board that says, “HERE’S WHERE TO HURT ME!” That’s why reclaiming fatness— living visibly, declaring, “I’m fat and I am not ashamed”— is a social tool so revolutionary, so liberating, it saves lives.”

When I was growing up, bullying existed but it was not exonerated. Bullies were known. They were outcasts and shunned, unless you were one. As a child, you learned to fight back or suffer. Parents did not fight your fight for you. You could rat out a bully if you dared and they would be “in trouble,” which meant something in those days.

Today’s culture is very different. I blame the media who created movies like “Mean Girls.” Then we have TV shows like the “Biggest Loser” where they abused Fat people for entertainment. There was nothing real or entertaining about that show. There is one out there now called “My 600 Pound Life” about very large people who are suffering and struggling to just survive. There is nothing entertaining about witnessing suffering. But it creates absolution for the hatred of people of size and fosters bigotry.

Lindy talks about flying and the stigma attached to Fat people when they board an airplane. I have sat in seats that do not fit me. It is humiliating at best as well as painful. And my butt is not as big as a Kardashian. I love Lindy’s retort: “We don’t insist on a solution because it’s still culturally acceptable to be cruel to fat people. When even pointing out the problem— saying, “my body does not fit in these seats that I pay for”— returns nothing but abuse and scorn, how can we ever expect that problem to be addressed? The real issue here isn’t money, it’s bigotry. We don’t care about fat people because it is okay not to care about them, and we don’t take care of them because we think they don’t deserve care…..We don’t insist on a solution because it’s still culturally acceptable to be cruel to fat people.

We are not born hating people different from us. Babies do not see Fat people as a threat. They learn that from their parents. My parents hated Fat people and had no issues making hurtful comments my whole life. Their mothers hated Fat people too and passed that down. They had no reason to hate fat people. They also hated people of different religions and especially hated people of color. They had no tolerance for anyone different from them, actually. They were upper class snobs full of themselves. My siblings to some degree reflect the same thinking. I never did learn the behavior and was an outcast in my own family sphere. But I held true to my principals.

We live in a country where hatred, bigotry, misogynic behaviors are being tolerated and actually glorified by some. But we are starting to have people who are standing up and saying no more. We have to do this. The energy of hatred is toxic. We have to change what we teach our children. I am aghast at the comments I hear from young people that are vile and filled with prejudice of things and people they have no direct experience with. How is that possible? Because hatred is a learned behavior and we have to stop teaching and accepting it.

West, Lindy. Shrill: Notes from a Loud Woman (p. 148). Hachette Books. Kindle Edition.









Fat Hatred

This weekend celebrated the second Women’s March in Seneca Falls. There were over 10,000 people there to voice their concerns. Voicing concerns is everyone’s right in the USA. I support that right as a woman and as a blogger. I am not able to accept and even understand what gives people the right to go on to someone’s blog and write an evil and threatening message. It happens all the time and to totally innocuous blogs.

Blogging is the opportunity for the blogger-author to express their thoughts. It is therapeutic at times and it can be a gift of education or just simply an outlet for the blogger to write about their experiences. It is a wonderful outlet.

I follow several blogs. There is one I find at times quite humorous called Dancing with Fat by Ragen Chastain. She is a large size lady who writes, is a triathlete, and a dancer. She also is a motivational speaker who encourages people of all size to be the best that they are no matter what their size. She is a true hero for the thousands of people who let their size inhibit their lives.

There are many other activists who are trying to simply educate people about size discrimination. It is totally acceptable in our country if not encouraged to harass and bully people of size. I do not get it and never have. But I was astounded by the hatred these activists have had hurled at them on their websites and even face to face.

In Regen’s blog she talks about trolls. She actually created a website and posted some of the comments and her very funny and witty replies. The comments are graphic and threatening and just frightening. She has never hurt anyone or tried to change anyone. She is only offering a glimpse into her life with joy and support for others. Pardon the language of this, but this is an example: “cant we just kill the fat people and make cat food out of them? 99% of obese people are just stupid lazy ugly pieces of lard,fuck em”  Can you imagine how this makes me feel as a large person to be judge that I should be KILLED and made into cat food simply because I take a larger dress size? Of course the sentiment loses value in the quality of the rant… and we move on. But how horrible is it that this person is out there expressing that much hatred and violence to an innocent group of fat people. Really? There are a lot more worthy groups to hate if you got to hate.

I am so naïve even at this ripe old age. I never knew there was so much hatred against fat people. This hatred is a learned behavior because it is not embraced by everyone in the world. What difference is to anyone if a person is large or small as long as they are not hurting anyone? This issue is becoming more prevalent now because people are standing up and saying “STOP IT!” Count me in!

We would never tolerate this type of harassment and hatred towards people of color. But I lived with that hatred growing up and I still hear it whispered behind closed doors. The fact is now it is unacceptable to slur and insult people simply because they have different skin color. It was an arduous fight. I am not saying the fight is over either. But when I was a young child it was a segregated world and it was nationally acceptable. But no more. It gives me hope.

I am not going to go on a political rant here. It would be too easy. Change has to happen. We need to be aware of this hatred in order for it to change. People don’t like to get involved in controversy and we have become a nation of complacency, which is why we are where we are with the leaders we have.

My goal is to just point out something that many people might not even be aware of. Next time you sit next to a fat person, understand that they know when they are being ostracized. They can see the looks and feel the shame you want them to feel for just existing. In many cases, their size is their protection from the harm and hurt their life has been. Try to understand and not judge.

I have lived with insomnia for many years. I remember as a young teen sitting in my parent’s living room watching the slow dying glow of a log burning in the fire place. It was the middle of the night. I was told as a very young child that I used to sleep walk and I actually fell down the stairs. I can remember when I was 30 the sleep walking started up again and I also had other sleep issues. The biggest issue I have now is related to PTSD. This is when you wake up in the middle of the night and cannot go back to sleep for hours. But there is more to this than a bit of anxiety. It is hyperarousal.

Hyperarousal can be defined as the state of being aroused, on guard, being overly alert and perceptive. The person who is suffering from hyperarousal is actually in the middle of the ‘fight-or-flight’ reflex that occurs when the brain sends out signals of impending danger or feels threatened. It puts the body on guard – ready to run away or stand and fight. Either way the heart beats faster, the eyes dilate, breathing is shallower and you become very alert. https://www.sixstepstosleep.com/hyperarousal-insomnia-sleep-anxiety/

I suffer from hyperarousal during the day as well. But in the middle of the night, this beast rears its ugly head and I am struggling for hours. If I do fall back asleep, I usually end up with a nightmare of some sort. All this is chemically regulated in the body. I do not know what exactly the trigger is all the time for me, but it happens when I am in a state of stress. I can perseverate on the smallest detail and by the end of an episode; I will have worried myself into a real frenzy.

Two weeks ago I actually got up and took my blood pressure and the reading was extremely high. But it was high all week from the stress of leaving my job. The physical condition I was in from the pressure of work and the all BS going on played havoc with me. But even with being away from the situation, I am able to find other things to fret about.

Hyperarousal also causes me to erupt. I can over react to the smallest things such as simply dropping something. I get frustrated very easily and have an over the top reaction. For me, it is compounded with the high level of pain I am in from my psoriatic arthritis. Unfortunately, it is a nasty loop. I get mad from being in pain and limited in my mobility and then I get a flare from being upset. They feed each other and around I go.

Compounding the situation is the sister reaction to hyperarousal which is hypervigilance. That is when you are always on alert. This is when you constantly are scanning for threats. When I was first diagnosed with PTSD, the therapist said I was like a trapped animal. I never turned my back to him. I constantly watched every move he made, especially with his hands. I think I am better but when I get threatened or perceive I am being threatened, I go back to being hypervigilant. I realize now that the past couple of years being in the toxic work environment I was in really set me back. A result of being hypervigilant is being exhausted. So I fall asleep very quickly but wake up in the middle of the night. On average, I sleep in two to three hour blocks. A good night is when I can sleep with a four hour block.

I write this not as a venue to complain but to share for someone who is going through similar things. There is comfort in knowing that you are not alone. I am planning on talking with my doctor about this if my sleep does not get any better. They recommended last year I seek retirement. It has been a long haul getting away from work and the nasty people I worked with. I have had some things going on in my home which has been concerning so I have not been able to totally calm down. But I am physically more active at home and that helps. I also need to get back to a strong practice of meditation again. That really helps. I already feel better and I know I am healing. But it is a slow path.



I did it!

I did it. I left my job. I “retired.” It has been a tumultuous month getting prepared for the last day. It came and went with a whimper. My body reacted far more than my mind. In my head, I kept feeling like I was going on vacation. Not even on the last day when I packed the light that has been on my desk for 6.5 years  did I feel like it was a permanent situation. Handing in my badge was emotional however. That has been my identity for so long. “Employee” “Director.” Now what am I?

I am relieved. It is hard to explain how much physically different my body feels. I have been living in terror for so long and the last month was even more so, if that is possible. When you have PTSD, your body takes over and reacts without your thoughts. I was a knot of tension which got worse until the last day. My stomach ached, my blood pressure was way up and my chest was tight all the time. My normal aches and pains were heightened. I did not sleep. I was a mess.

But my Spirit guides showed me that the path to leave was the right choice by showing me a glimpse of the future. I left turmoil and a toxic environment that was only going to get worse.

One by one, my employees came to me to tell me their plans for the future. One has a sick mother and will probably be taking FLMA and the new extended paid FLMA is the spring. She already asked for two weeks in February to make plans. Another one wants to go back to her family in Africa where she has a sick sister. She too is planning on using FLMA to scope things out in the early summer and then leave later this year.

They never hired the new clinical education manager. Now, they are so desperate, they may promote the girl I hired to be the Educator. I hope they do that as at least she has an idea of what is going on. When I resigned, the VP redid her job, and took away most of the responsibilities that made the job challenging and interesting. If they keep her at the position, she will walk. She wants to grow in her career, not go backwards. The Lead Preceptor is still on limited restrictions and only working five hours a day when she can. She detests the VP and will go back to field if he messes with her.

But the final conflict was with the part time paraprofessional trainer I hired last year. She was a pain in the ass from day one. She wanted more hours. She did as she wanted. She did not follow regulations when it came to training. It was a tough job to fill and so many times I looked the other way on certain things. But I knew she was a liar because she got caught in lies so many times. What made her lies so hard to comprehend was that her other job is a Pastor of a Church, unless that is a lie too. The last straw was her timesheet the week after Christmas. She marked herself in an hour and half sooner than when I know she was there. I had four people looking for her on this day who all said she showed up at 1:30. She marked she was in at noon. I went back and pulled her timesheets for six months and matched them up to her badge swipes and there were huge discrepancies. We have to swipe to get into the buildings. I never trusted her time, but I did not think she was padding her timesheet as much as she was. And it is hard to prove because I was not in the same building as she was so I never knew for sure when she came in. But this was fraud and I had witnesses. I had to fire her.  The stress of this was terrible. But somehow she got wind of it or knew her performance was terrible and resigned on this past Wednesday. I was so relieved because she is very unstable and firing her might have been very dramatic and possibly violent.

There was so much else going on during all this. I left a mess that was only going to get worse in time. The new regulations coming out governing the way home care agencies do business are ridiculous. The amount of documentation that the clinicians are going to have to do is extraordinary. It will be too much for some and they will go back to the hospitals, where there is much less documentation. The insurance companies are building in requirements that are so restrictive in order to deny payments when they are not met. Much of the work that was done in the last two year at the agency has come unraveled. The big Lean projects designed to correct money issues are collapsing due to lack of oversight. Since June, the agency has lost even more money that they did the previous two years and will be at an all-time new low as far as meeting the budget. They will lose over 5 million this year. It will mean even more layoffs with a support staff that is extremely limited. They already canned one Administrator. The “Mothership” will be replacing higher positions with their personnel and absorbing more of the support roles. That has already started. They will never shut them down, but they will run the agency.

But through all this, I came to realize that I was not cut out for the tension and back stabbing anymore. I also do not like the “new” workforce. I had to train this young chicky who is the golden child of the VP I worked for. She is the typical young spoiled child in her late twenties. One day when I was training her on a training system we use, she was slumped across my desk with her head in her hand yawing in my face. This lack of respect display was only heightened by her continually picking up her phone to check something and text. How much do you think I really showed her? Good luck! On the last day, she was panicking because the VP asked her to pull a report and she had no clue as what to do. The three of us had to meet and I did explain it again to her in front of the VP.  I will not miss that crap at all.

I will not miss the hurry up and do something only to have it not used or forgotten. I think of all the stupid busy work that I was requested to do by the rotten VP only to have him move on to something else. I think of all the finger pointing and the excuses and blame. I will not miss that. Did I just get old and was this crap always there?

The firing of the part time instructor caused a huge issue. She was also the train the trainer, and instructor for the agency’s CPR program. By regulation, we have to have some of our staff CPR trained. The same chicky who was so bored during her training with me was to be trained as a new instructor and to take over the oversight of the program when I left. She missed her training (three times) and so was not certified. I was leaving them without an instructor in CPR. This caused me great worry. She could give a crap.

I finally figured it out. Her generation was raised, and especially her because she was an only child of elderly parents, that she never had to resolve anything in her life. Someone else always has fixed it or she just didn’t care. I have seen this behavior in so many 20 and 30 year olds. I was raised to take responsibility seriously. I took it to an extreme where it was physically harming me.

This lack of concern is apparent in the quality of documentation performed by the clinicians. I see it in young managers who cannot deal with conflict and go running immediately to their superior. I see the degradation of leadership where the “what-ever” attitude is beginning to permeate. This is not an arena I am comfortable in. I want to work with people who give a shit and take it to heart when they are in charge. I cannot abide the cocksure attitude of children who think they know everything until they are put to the test and then point fingers at others in their failure. I see it our training rooms where people are looking at cell phones instead of absorbing the lessons that will make them successful. What is even scarier is the increase in errors in medical practice. Very scary. My favorite horror story is where some packed a sacral wound only to discover it was the person’s anus they packed.

I know too much. I know what has been buried. I sat too long on boards that over saw the discrepancies and issues that were harming patients as well as the agency. I am no longer able to tolerate the lack of concern and I know I was not the only one. I was the last of the senior staff that was with me from the day I got hired.  We called ourselves the Brain Trust and we were powerful and passionate about our jobs.  They all have left or retired.

Smugly, it pleases me that it will take two new directors and two new managers to do my “job”.

The only thing I am in charge of now is me.  I think I am in a good place finally.