Living in absolute sin, Dadisodes and I shared an apartment in southern California.  I had just decided to stay in San Diego for him, rather than continue with travel nursing.  And after a yearlong courtship, still unwed and not engaged, my period was late.

<pause>

It would be important to mention here that at the time, I was still working in very acute neonatal intensive care units.  Although I was dating someone seriously, I was still unsure as to whether or not children were going to be in my future.  Especially since a normal infant in my eyes at the time was approximately 3-4 pounds and attached to life support.  Not to mention the constant smell of burning flesh in the O.R. during cesarean sections was not doing much to sway me towards motherhood.

Just like any woman not trying to conceive and taking precautionary measures, I panicked. A lot. And then proceeded to empty the shelves of the pregnancy test aisle at CVS.  Generic, early detection, fancy-overpriced name brand.  You name it and I scooped it into my arms, dumped them into my car, and raced home at alarming speeds.

It is truly amazing how difficult it is to pee during times of crisis.  And how slow three minutes can take to go by, pacing in front of a test.

Finally, there was only ONE pink line in the control section.

I breathed a heavy sigh of relief and then lowered the test back down towards the trashcan.

Wait. What’s that?

An ever so faint pink line shadowed alongside the dark pink one.

After several hours, it went unchanged.  I called my gynecologist to schedule an appointment for a blood test to make sure.

Upon arrival, the nurse immediately gave me a similar urine pregnancy test to take.  As she administered the drops of my urine onto the test strip, she immediately noticed two developing pink lines.

“Well,…*holds up round pregnancy calendar*…it looks like you’ll be having a May baby!”

My knees gave in and I nearly passed out.  Luckily a chair sat behind me to catch my fall.

“Are you okay, Sandy?”

“Yeah,…um…can you check the test again to make sure.  I got a faint pink line on my home test.”

“Let me see.  Well…hmm…. you know,… you’re right. It is barely pink.  We should really make sure.”

It turns out I was not actually pregnant. It was just a false alarm.

Trying to conceive over the last year or so, I still revisit that moment every month while taking a pregnancy test. Month after month, the negative test results have taken their toll.  It has evolved into a state of panic in a thick, heavy cloud of uncertainty, stifling as my time frame for trying to conceive comes to a close, our options become fewer, and biopsies come back unchanged.  Not even a glimmer of a pink line has presented itself.

Until yesterday…

With heavy signs of PMS (read: tender breasts, sugar cravings, water retention, mood swings), my past experience, and a years worth of failure, I am torn on how to interpret the test.

I fear latching onto this weak line of hope.  Because this time, so much more lies behind it.  I fear I am not strong enough to handle being letdown again.

Could this test be testing me?

Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

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]]> http://www.momisodes.com/reading-between-the-lines/feed 80 http://www.momisodes.com/fo-shizzle-my-whiz-le http://www.momisodes.com/fo-shizzle-my-whiz-le#comments Mon, 08 Jun 2009 02:47:38 +0000 Momisodes http://www.momisodes.com/?p=2835 Nearly every job comes with some level of drama.  Whether you telecommute from home, or make your way through a sea of cubicles to your desk, there is always an undercurrent of gossip, work related or not.

Ten years ago, I had a very strange patient.  He was one of my first live patients as a nursing student.  Up until then, all of my hands-on experience was with plastic human body models, or fruit under a professor’s supervision.  We practiced giving injections on oranges, and often sat in a group going step-by-step on how to perform procedures.  In my mind, I had them all down, every last one. I had become an expert at inserting and removing a host of medical equipment in and out of imaginary body parts (could that sound anymore disturbing?)

Then I had Richard the patient.  He was a silent fellow.  In fact, none of the nurses in the unit had actually heard him speak, he just pointed and groaned on occasion. But at 78 years old with a touch of dementia, that was not out of the ordinary.

Anyhow, on this day, he needed his urinary catheter removed.

In my mind, I had done this a thousand times (on a fake model penis), but Richard the patient was my first time doing it in reality (on a real, *ahem* 78 year old johnson).

A registered nurse accompanied me into Richard’s room for the procedure.

“Good morning, Richard.  This is Sandy. She is a nursing student.  She will be helping me to remove your catheter, okay?”

Richard was slightly reclined in his bed while he looked over at us blankly.  After a long pause, he finally nodded his head.

“Hi Richard, I’m going to set up my tray over here and get you set up.  I’ll have to move the bottom of your gown to the side so I can see your catheter, okay?” I said nervously.

Slowly, Richard shifted one leg from under the white sheet as his hand pulled up his hospital gown.  He sat still, in silence.

Perhaps it was the nurse looming over my shoulders, or Richard sitting with his one-eyed willy in full view staring at me blankly, but my mind began to race.  With shaky gloved hands I reached over and attempted to gingerly remove the medical tape that held the catheter in place.  Surprisingly the catheter began to slip out on its own, so I tried my best to guide it out slowly.  It was then that Richard’s eyes swelled into saucers as he lunged his face 2 inches from mine and screamed,…

I never yanked on a piece of tubing so hard in my life.  Which wasn’t a great idea since it sent residual urine flying all over… me.   At that moment, I could have used a catheter in my own bladder.

So Richard turned out to have a voice after all.

And all of the nurses in the unit had a solid week’s worth of gossip about the dumb nursing student who showered herself in pee, and managed to finally torture the voice out of Richard.

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See clip below for the most hilarious nursing story ever.

Showtime original series Nurse Jackie premieres Monday, June 8th, 10:30pm ET/PT (Today!)

March 30th -April 5th

Not sure if it was too soon to take a test, but for now I’m breathing a little sigh of relief. Thank you to everyone who left a comment here.