I'm angry and frustrated and worn out. My son started off the week by messaging, "You're a nurse. How do I kill myself? I have a gun but I'm afraid to use it."
I love my son but I cannot help him. I've tried and tried and tried. He lies to me, manipulates me and plays my heart strings. He doesn't like his life. His life is a train wreck of his own making which involves alcohol, drugs, domestic abuse and jail time. It breaks my heart but I can't fix him. I told him that. I told him, I love you but I can't fix you, only you can do that.
So now I just wander around with a broken heart, smiling and telling jokes.
And then yesterday at work I got a phone call about Miss Katie. She was being taken to emergency because she hurt her arm I was told. Yesterday was Tuesday. On Monday morning, Katie had a melt down and hurt her arm somehow. Nobody knows how. Twenty-four hours later I was told and she was finally taken to emergency. And she has a broken fucking arm. Again! Same arm.
And we were short staffed again so I didn't feel right about just walking out of work to go sit in emergency with Katie. Except I should have because nobody knows a fucking thing. Maybe surgery. Follow-up, who the hell knows. The emergency doc told her caregiver to give her Tylenol if she's having pain. If! She has a broken fucking arm. She has pain. She sat in emerg all day and nobody gave her anything for pain.
So work will never hold me back again. The whole department can collapse as far as I'm concerned. My place is with Katie. I am her guardian. I am her advocate. I am her mama. And I'm so sorry that I wasn't there for her yesterday.
Mostly I'm tired of fighting.