So glad

I am not at work today, someone said there must be a full moon you can feel the storm brewing at work, we had one bed left last evening a new caesar being done and three booked C/S coming in to be done this morning with no beds for them and the birthing unit was filling up. They've banned overtime again, getting staff is a constant juggling act taking up much senior time (employed these two little ladies to do these jobs but they are often busy at lunch). We had a shit of a shift, bleeding girl, kid went into labour screaming swearing truck her off to birthing unit quickly, 2 other ill-assessed pregnant girls dumped on us from BU. Everywhere no time, no beds, no staff. More infections, other illnesses and then the general patients, we are now designated gynae as well. Some idiot mother from a couple of weeks ago rings up I want to send a card do you know A.. describes her, I said I cant give you staff names over the phone and I don't know who you mean anyway, well do you know ... on and on it went, do they go deaf. Got to laugh. 

Nobody asked me anything about my health, which was really good because I had decided to walk out if anyone said anything. I have a policy of not discussing anything about that shit heart thing with them. Its better dont want to think about it at work, dont want to be the freak with the shit box in me. I hate it so much, wish I'd died dont see that ever changing but when I'm busy I forget about it then some creep says in front of a crowd of people hows the pacer (our charge sister) its like getting knifed. Nobody and I do mean nobody gets how I feel except people online with them. Old men seem to deal with it best they seem to like machinery and being inorganic, it fascinates them. I hate it, it is so creepy so inhuman. They tell you to tell your dentist etc about it but I am never telling anyone again, I dont care what happens, they just treat you weird and you feel bad again. I research and research but there are no answers. I hate medicine for inventing this shit box but not finding why in me or anyone. Everyone wants you to be glad for this extra non-life and I hate it. I have never felt very good about myself but now its like trying to construct your life from dead tissue. Like being a zombie who knows they are a zombie. I have to stop talking to family about it because they get upset. What I look forward to is getting a deadly disease and then getting them to remove it then for a little while I'll feel human again.  Not just turning it off but taking it out. That will be really good. 

I do things still play golf and swim and all the stuff but it is hollow and then you have to hide how you feel so they dont feel bad.