This site contains the highly fictionalized ramblings of a raconteur looking for a place in the medical world. The vignettes presented are cobbled together from various and sundry places.  Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is purely coincidental.

And, I like to photograph things in lieu of words some days.

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To the District.

Well it’s happening.  I’ve finally gotten a job in a hospital.  In an ER.  I’m going to be an ER nurse.

Slight hitch.  It’s going to happen in Washington D.C.

So I’m leaving my hometown of Chicago, packing up my life, and wandering east until I find myself in the nation’s capital.


I’ve left The Home.  Meaning the nursing home I was slaving, err, working in. Gone will be the days of 29 patients, 15 g-tubes, 7 traches, all mixed with a few admissions and a handful of narcs that need to be scheduled down to the minute.

I’ll say this much for learning about working in a nursing home; you get your time management skills down.  I also have a newfound appreciation for exactly what it means to be on hospice.  Sadly, to most of the nurses and staff I met along my journey, being on hospice largely means ignoring that patient for most of the shift.  God help anyone who doesn’t have a family or friend who comes to visit them.


So yeah.  About the ER.  It’s a Level 2, adult facility in one of the low-income areas of the district.  By the numbers they do quite a large amount of visits each year.  Since I’m a relatively new RN, this will be a great learning opportunity.  I couldn’t pass it up.

But I’m terrified.  Absolutely terrified.  There’s so much I don’t know.  I’ve just started going through Sheehy’s Manual of Emergency Care and my mind is already spinning with details.  Everyone keeps saying that’s normal, but in all honesty I just want to get it started.

It all starts in a couple weeks pending my D.C. license.

In the interim, I’m playing a game with my belongings.  Sorting them into various piles of keep, bring to the temporary housing, or save for the big move.


I’ve been to D.C. once, the week before last, for four days.  It’s a beautiful city, rich with history, layered with a lot of amazing sights to see and places that are definitely on my agenda.  However, I couldn’t fathom choosing a neighborhood to live in having just a few days to see the town.

Moving into temporary housing seems the wisest thing to do. Perhaps not the most cost-effective up front, but I can’t move to a town I don’t know and choose an apartment in just a few days.  I want to feel out the town, get my commuting pattern in order, and basically figure out which neighborhood has the best amenities.  If that takes me a couple weeks, that’s fine.

A bit of planning up front is never a bad thing.


I’m going to miss my cat.  He’ll be staying with my parents for the first month or two while I search for places.  I don’t want to bring him to the temporary place, and ultimately I’d like to be done moving before I bring him to his new home.

Thankfully Mom & Dad are thrilled to have the little one winding his way around their ankles in their house.  He stayed there during my few days in D.C. and apparently he was the belle of the ball.  It’s only fitting that I get my life sorted out properly before bringing him over.


I’m going to miss my city.  Chicago has been very good to me.  It has raised me, taught me, fed me, and made me a nurse among other things.  It’s entertained me, toughened some bits of me, softened others, and let me discover who I am and the kind of stuff I’m made of.

Rockefeller said “If you want to succeed, you should strike out on new paths, rather than travel the worn paths of accepted success.”  I couldn’t agree more.

I’m going to finally be a nurse in a hospital.

But oh shit, it’s going to be in the ER.

Here we go.

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