Something's gotta give.

It's 2:00 in the morning and I'm sitting here, dressed, in the dressing room, taking in the odd silence that has fallen upon the room. 

Well, as quiet as a strip club dressing room can be. 

You can always tell it's been a bad night all around when it's quiet after the club has closed. No one is even complaining about someone taking their dick out or stiffing them on a $20 lapdance. There is literally just this sadness that can be felt as soon as you walk in. 

It's a common misconception that strippers make a lot of money. Sure, we make more than most (on average) per night, but the average dancer isn't exactly banking every night. And even though our "bad night" would be someone else's dream, it doesn't feel enough to justify being harassed and objectified in our thongs for 5 hours. We have nights, like this Saturday night, where girls are literally so burnt out from having a bad week that we can't even talk to each other. 

I came in tonight determined to do better than I have the past few nights, only to be turned down by everyone except for 3 guys, and one of them only danced with me because another dancer asked to do a double dance with me. I feel so fed up and have such little patience for this fucking job that I already warned my SO to prepare for me to come home and cry. 

Shout out to the SO's of dancers who have been there to see her literally beaming and flying high from happiness after a blowout night to breaking down in tears after multiple shitty shifts in a row. 

He will wake up, put a hand on my shoulder and just let me bawl my eyes out from frustration and anxiety. This is where his blunted emotions come into play perfectly because he literally couldn't understand so there's nothing to say. 

I know these periods pass, and I know it's not just me. Then I'll have an easy night where everyone loves me and pays me without hassle and I sleep easy. 

Until then, I have to try my best to keep it together (after a good cry, that is). I start my nursing job in less than two weeks but it isn't seeming to come fast enough. 

I guess I just thought this would be over by now. I graduated in June but it's December and I'm fucking still trapped as a stripper and I hate it. 

Ugh.

I just got a text that there's a glass of wine waiting for me so I guess I better get to that. 

TAKEN

I have FINALLY landed my first job as a registered nurse! Third time is a charm I guess because my first and second interviews just didn't feel right. I'm glad I didn't sell out (since I am still a candidate for the second position) just to gain experience. I mean, SHIT, I busted my ass to put myself through school so why settle for a job I know I am better than? 

I got this opportunity through an old friend, a girl who was in my delivery room with me, and I guess timing, luck & my prayer candle were just all working in my favor because I got hired right there in the interview for the cardiovascular ICU!

I cannot even believe my luck at the moment. I don't even have words to describe my excitement. I am nervous, of course, because this is an extremely difficult position for any nurse, let alone someone who has zero experience on her own, but I'm prepared to dive back into my studies, read up on critical care nursing blogs and be as prepared as I can be, even if it's just textbook knowledge. 

The nursing director said it will feel like I am underwater for the first year and a half, but I am prepared for the stress and pressure. Plus, they have training for the open heart surgery patients, so I have to stay as long as I possibly can. 

I've always been told I would be a great ICU nurse, but to be honest, it scared me. I had stayed clear from applying for those positions because I know every single move is life or death. I didn't know if that was something I could handle, but I also know my personality, and I don't want to take any shortcuts just because the tough road isn't easy. If I'm going to be a nurse, I want to be in the toughest unit & constantly feel challenged. I always knew med-surg wouldn't cut it, but I don't know why I never thought about the CVICU before since cardiac is my passion. I feel like this is the perfect fit for me because I will not only be stabilizing a life, but preserving it.

I am SO excited/nervous/ready to start this next chapter in my life. What an exciting next year this will be! 

Into you like a train.

I wish I had the courage to ask earlier, though I don't know exactly how much it would have changed my actions. 

I was so excited when my Mr. Tie Tuesday came in to visit me twice in my last week before I took off for my heart procedure. Not like we don't talk everyday anyway, but him coming in on Thursday night took me by surprise. I did not expect it, and I suspect he didn't expect to come in either. 

Sometimes I feel like we are drawn to each other like fucking magnets, I don't know how to explain it. 

Anyways, it wasn't much like he was a customer at a strip club more like it was two people on a date or something, except I am wearing a lot less clothes than I would on a normal date. It was nice and, as usual, torturous because I just wanted to rip off his clothes and I couldn't . We had been talking about him helping me with my computer because he had made me a mix of songs (that I now cannot stop listening to), but I truly couldn't figure it out with him talking me through it over messages, so he asked if I wanted to meet at Starbucks close to where we live (did I mention we live within a mile of each other?) to help. He had decided to work from home on Friday, Halloween, so it happened to work out perfect because my loveless man was at work all day.

I didn't feel nervous to see Tie Tuesday outside of the club, like I would have with anyone else, because at this point he just feels like a friend (a friend I very much am attracted to, but still, a friend). However, as soon as I slid into the chair next to him and set up my computer, I could just feel his uneasiness. I mean, fuck, I wasn't going to force myself on him or anything, but at that moment I felt really awkward, like he was watching his back and that he wasn't supposed to be there. I checked for a ring and saw nothing. I have already done this at the club, but I also know a lot of guys take it off there, whether out of respect or because they are trying to sleep with a stripper. So there I was, with this guy I am used to being all over and silly with, and it seems like he is just trying not to make eye contact. I know I couldn't act like "Sasha" at fucking Starbucks but... what was the deal? I got this feeling in the pit of my stomach I really didn't like, and when I went to hug him and he stiffened, I figured I was about to extremely disappointed. 

Sure enough, Saturday night rolled around, he came in as planned (though he was supposed to be accompanied by his buddy and his friends, and they ended up just being too drunk to make it out of the house), and I got the disappointing answer I already knew I would. 

HE IS MARRIED. 

Six or seven years and "hanging on by a thread", he says, though it doesn't matter, because marriage is marriage whether it be one day or ten years, and now I am even more confused than I was before I knew for sure. It doesn't really change how I feel (though it should), but only because I met him acting like "Sasha". I didn't know or care if he was married or had three different girlfriends before, but now that I have taken this flirtationship outside of the club, it is different. It isn't like he tried to pick me up at a bar, we became friends at a place he willingly came to, where he knew girls like myself would be. So, even though I am disappointed, I am also still curious and not any less attracted. I thought maybe I wouldn't message him about sexual things anymore, or just message him less in general, but that absolutely did not work out. I enjoy him as a male interaction I can be very honest with, so why should I just end that? Besides, it seems that my actual boyfriend and I are ending, and I don't see why I should just stop a friendship that sends me into fits of laughter at all hours of the day. I mean, of course I know why, but I didn't choose to meet him at the strip club. That was his choice. 

Ugh. It is really a fucked up situation, but there is really nothing to this situation at the same time. Sure, we talk all day long and he comes in to see me at work, but at the end of the day, we are just typing words to each other and he can stop whenever he wants. I don't even know what is supposed to come of this. 

He is not mine to miss, yet I do. He is not my person to confide in, yet he was the person I was messaging in the middle of the night before my heart surgery, when I was feeling scared and nervous. 

What in the actual fuck is wrong with my head? I'm laughing now because it just all seems so silly and ridiculous. 

Last night, he asked me what is the first thing I think about when I wake up. It took me by surprise because I hadn't really thought about it, but when I did, I realized it was him. My Mr. Tie Tuesday fucking addiction. I wake up and literally check my messages first, in case I missed one from him. I wake up thinking I will roll over and he will be there. It is absolutely crazy, but it is the truth. We spent last night asking each other quite a bit of loaded questions, and I guess because I met him at the club where I am always pretty candid, I answered honestly and without a filter (though I could really use a filter). 

I talked openly about the situation with my SO, where we talked about how we are not in love anymore and that even if we do not work out, I will always be his family who will be at his parents house for Thanksgiving, and who I can call in a pinch to help me pick up my little one from school. Being that I have just about no family at all, it is nice to know this man will continue to be a support system for me. He is just a good man like that, and for that, I am grateful I have him in my life. We will probably still stay together for a while, but it is so much less tense in the house now that we have been honest about our feelings and we can just move forth like adults who have spent a good chunk of time together, which is more than I can say for my previous relationships. No anger, no backstabbing, no speaking ill of the other person, just making plans accordingly. It isn't stressful at all. Sad, maybe a little, but there is no unnecessary drama, which I appreciate. 

I know my Tie Tuesday stayed up really late after our conversation of truth-telling, and I wish I could tell what he was thinking. I suppose asking him would be the best, but I do not want to pry, 

I literally do not even know how I got to the point of liking someone who comes into the club. I was very happy pretending to be in love with someone because he was good to me, and was prepared to fake it until I made it, but now that I feel what it is like to have butterflies again, I don't know why I thought it was okay to settle for anything less than that. 

If nothing else, I feel like this is all teaching me that I don't have to be with someone I don't have feelings for, just because they are good to me. I got lucky with my loveless SO, because he is someone who will still be good to me as a friend if we don't work out, but I have to stop thinking that I don't deserve that giddy feeling. 

I DO. 

I absolutely fucking do. 

This heart of mine.

 For years, I have dealt with heart issues. I have always been someone who exercises and has generally kept myself in shape. In high school, I had dance competitions every weekend, and when I wasn't practicing five hours every day, I was performing at sports events. By the time my son had his first birthday, I had dropped all 41 pounds of giving in to midnight meat and chocolate milk cravings. During nursing school, I didn't have any time left for dance classes, but I got really into running and I have even signed up for my first marathon. Yet, despite all the years of keeping my cardiovascular system healthy, I always felt like my heart just couldn't keep up with how much I pushed myself. After constant EKG's, random panic attacks and palpitations that kept me up at night, I finally went to the doctor and got a diagnosis: Wolff Parkinson White.

 I really had to dig back into my nursing brain for this one. Heart blocks? Got it. Sinus rhythms? Yup, I know it. I can M.O.N.A. a patient right out of an acute coronary, but WPW? Yeah, I would have to read up on this one again. It was clear when I saw my EKG and saw the delta wave that appeared at the start of my QRS complex (sorry non-nursing audience), and I immediately had a flashback to the image of my mother fighting her vent after she had open heart surgery. 

I CANNOT HAVE OPEN HEART SURGERY IN MY MID-TWENTIES. 

When I got my diagnosis, it was right at the start of my last term of nursing school, and I was literally reading my notes in between the physician explaining referrals and symptoms, so I was not at a point to just dive into this situation to get it taken care of. Flash forward five months, degree finished and NCLEX passed, and my symptoms of pain, shortness of breath and insane palpitations have finally driven me to a point of facing my fear and just getting it all handled. 

The cardiologist scheduled me to wear a heart monitor for a month, which I creatively hid at work under a tied up flannel & pulled it off as a "Daisy Duke" look. I couldn't go on stage (my own courtesy for everyone at the club), which really took a big cut out of my money. But I dealt with it and figured I might be put on some sort of beta-blocker and call it a day. 

That was not happening.

I got a call from an Electrophysiotherapist, who specializes in fixing just this sort of problem, and he suggested I get a cardiac ablation. For those of you who don't know what that is, let me just insert a picture to give you an idea.

Basically, they are taking a catheter, sticking it into my femoral artery, and burning of the extra pathway that my heart decides to take when it makes a full forced beat. It is kind of like it taking a detour, but that detour is seriously fucking with my quality of life. 

I was so scared to schedule the procedure, but I decided to just say fuck it and get it over with sooner rather than later, since it IS the busy season for the club and I am ready to get over the hump of going home with zero dollars (which happened my last night working before the ablation). I am not missing out on good money, or a possible job offer, just to have to take off a few weeks for recovery as soon as I start. 

Let me tell you, there is nothing like filling out advanced directive paperwork to put shit into perspective. Furthermore, there is nothing like a very painful, scary and conscious heart procedure to snap you into reality. I am not exaggerating when I say that I thought I might actually die on that table. 

I had to stay awake during the procedure because I am sure the anesthesia would have slowed my heart rate too much and they would not have been able to fully induce me into SVT (basically, a very high heart rate) and irritate my heart rhythm enough to actually catch the abnormal pathway acting up and stop it in its tracks. I was absolutely NOT prepared for the experience I endured. The medication had me violently shaking, almost as if I was having a seizure. I could see my heart rate on the monitor climb up to 180 (my normal is 50, and any healthy person's should be 60-100), and I remember dealing with it fluctuating for about 2 hours before they were able to get a handle on the pathway to cauterize. Then came the heparin drip. If you have ever received heparin, you wouldn't forget the feeling. In nursing school, we are taught to warn our patients of the burning sensation, but now that I have experienced the pain, I would say that "burning sensation" is more like a wildfire being spread very fast throughout your veins. LITERALLY. I finally broke once the drip started and I could feel the tears start to flow, but I was not allowed to move. I couldn't even take a deep breath, which is my normal compensatory method for the hard palpitations. I felt trapped and scared. 

After four long hours, they finally decided to stop.

FOUR FUCKING HOURS. 

I was told that it is a real possibility that I may have to have it done again because they discovered a second abnormal pathway (of the very small chance of that being the case, it was indeed mine) and they couldn't activate it. For now, it was taken care of and I just needed to rest in recovery and be careful not to bleed out from my catheter site. 

Rest? How about recovering mentally from what I just went through? If I have to give this a positive swing (something I am learning from Mr. Tie Tuesday), I am glad I went through it firsthand because you really cannot prepare a patient for the feelings of being awake during a procedure and what they might endure. Not even if you read all of the medication side effects, or possible risks of the surgery, you just do not know unless you have been on that operating table and feeling a fucking catheter burn inside of your beating heart. I can be a good reference if I am ever working in the PACU. 

After 6 more hours of lying flat on my back, I was discharged and sent home with a crazy pressure dressing and directions on how not to bleed out and die (basically). That was three days ago. Today, I am finally feeling okay to walk around and move about on my own. Even though I have help here with my loveless boyfriend to take care of my little one, I always have that feeling like I am alone and I cannot just lay down and recover. I need to be productive, even if I have to take off the next few weeks of work (yay?). 

So here I am, blogging in a very clean living room (ugh, finally) and a glass of red, just relaxing (recovering?). Blogging makes me feel productive, though writing about the actual physical aspects of my heart is just one side of the beating it has taken this week. The emotional part... well, I guess that's an entirely different blog post all on its own. 

The hunt continues..

At this very moment, I should be at my second interview. I'm supposed to be showcasing myself to prove that I can be an asset to the facility and that I am moldable and eager to learn as a novice nurse, blah blah blah. Instead, I rescheduled it, and honestly will probably respectfully decline if even given an offer to accept the RN position.

Out of my circle of friends from school, only one gets my theory, but I'm really praying I am making the right choice. 

There is so much pressure to take the first job you get offered because the job market as a new grad RN, even with a BSN & PHN, is fucking tough. You submit the resume and letters of recommendation along with thousands of other new grads, with that number growing every few months, in hopes of at least landing one interview so they can put a face to the name and, if nothing else, remember you for another position. Trying to stand out in the sea of other eager, new graduates is something proving to be more challenging than expected. 

My job submission list is reaching close to 50 at this point, with one interview, two rejection letters, and no offers. About every other day, the career services center at my school sends a mass email for possible job opportunities, and off we go, all of us, once again, applying for the same positions along with the rest of the entire community of new grads, and at this point, most of us don't expect even a letter of rejection. Of course, any job sounds good right about now, or at least that's what everyone tells me. I had been ignoring the emails from the career services department regarding skilled nursing facilities because I hear complete horror stories, but after feeling frustrated in Hawaii, I decided to put in my resume for the next SNF opening. 

As luck would have it, the nursing manager emailed me with a scheduled interview time. I saw it and immediately thought well, shit. Don't get me wrong, I am happy to at least hear back from a possible job, but deep down I don't feel that I should just take what I can get, like everyone tells me. From the stories I hear about SNF's, they are underpaid, required to work insane hours beyond their contracts, and their nurse to patient ratio is borderline dangerous. As a new grad nurse, I want to be challenged, but damn I also want to keep my license too. To be perfectly honest, I don't even want to interview for this position because I feel I might be tempted to take it, and I don't know if it's a risk I should be taking.

I would be opening up a new facility, so I don't even have much to go on as far as day to day operations as of now. I assume I will have to manage a team of LVN's and CNA's, which would be great as far as teamwork and delegation on my resume for future opportunities, but am I ready for that? I feel like I would need training much longer than I might be offered. Or I could just take the position if it was offered to me, increase my malpractice insurance, and tough it out...

I don't know. I feel like I need to listen to my gut instinct on this one. I know a hospital RN position would be best for me, so why should I settle? Or even put patients in danger when I don't know if I would be ready? I know what I'm worth, and not for nothing but I know what my degree is worth, and I didn't bust my ass stripping through school to pay off a $127K tuition and end up at a SNF feeling untrained & underpaid. Maybe if I was younger and I had time to waste, but I feel like my first job is crucial. I mean, what if I couldn't even get into a med/surg position after the SNF experience? And since the OR is my ultimate goal, I know I still need acute experience for that.. will reputable hospitals even count a SNF as acute experience? And if I start my master's program by the summer for my NP, I will have to disclose that looking for another RN position at a hospital, and hospitals don't want a master's student, only a graduate. 

UGH.

My head hurts just thinking about it. I wish I knew the right choice to make. Or maybe my thinking is so way off and I should just take a SNF position. This is where having parents would be really great. Also, a way to look into the future would be nice. 

In any case, I'm going to go to the interview. If nothing else, I can practice answering disease process questions and medication recommendation scenarios. 

It can't hurt, right?

The Unfuckable Truth: Maintenance Sex

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Back to Cali.

After 11 glorious days of not working, I went back to the club this week. Even after rubber tramping, it felt so nice to not be in 8inch heels or have sweaty hands touching me. I even started to get back on a normal sleeping schedule and I stopped experiencing shooting pains in my back when I finally did get to bed. I have never taken off work that many days in a row, but damn I needed it! After the last night of me being at the club involved vomit all over my legs and ass (have I not posted this?), I was ready to get the fuck to Hawaii. I didn't even open up my fake number app the entire time, which will be a whole post on its own, and I loved it. 

However, all good things come to an end. I took an extra day off after coming back from Maui because there was an actual war going on in my uterus, so I ended up going in on Thursday. 

I almost don't even want to count it because it didn't feel like work. I went in after attending a nursing seminar with nurse managers from various hospitals around the area, and I was in such a good mood after that that I felt like I was beaming. Even more exciting was that I knew that one person was coming in to see me and I couldn't wait to tackle him. This is the same person I kept in contact with during my trip, my Mr. Tie Tuesday, the guy who I'm pretty sure is a long lost something of mine because well.. we get each other. People with the same humor get each other. Anyways, he got there before I did, and I was so excited that I ran out half dressed in my sweater, stripper bottoms and flats, and almost actually tackled him. 

I get too excited to see him. It's like being really hungry and then seeing the food being delivered to your table, if that weird analogy makes sense at all.

Maybe I just need to eat breakfast...

Anyway, the night was a blast. I felt great to have my first night back with Mr. Tie Tuesday because I know I will just hang out with him until he decides to call it a night, and I genuinely have fun. It was a perfect welcome back to work.

Friday night, I was still on the same high. I wasn't in the mindset of thinking about working all day.. I just kind of let it go. The bitchiness, the anger and the frustration just seemed to escape me during the day because I forgot what the night could bring me and I felt so carefree. That is a hard feeling for me to have. I went a little late after dinner in downtown, so I was surprised at how easy it all seemed. I don't know if it was my carefree attitude that guys were picking up on, or that glass of Pinot Noir was kicking in, but I was just a little ball of fucking happy-go-lucky sunshine. 

At one point during the night, this older gentleman grabbed my hand, asked me to sit with his friend, and plopped me in the lap of a man I very much recognized! I only remembered his middle name was Michael (even that is a stretch for me because I never remember names), but I instantly hugged him because I remembered I liked him. Sometimes I might not know their name, or how much they spent, but I remember that it wasnt a fight & they are actually fun company, so I go with my gut instinct. He didn't remember me at first, but once we were dancing he said, "Sasha! How could I ever have forgotten you!", and didn't have me dance with anyone else the entire night. 

If I may just say this without sounding ungrateful, once again, but as much as I love having guys that are nice company, respectful & spend money, this guy is a tough one. Not because of him, but because.. well....

He looks like my father.

This is something I didn't expect when I started dancing. I never thought that one day, 5 1/2 years later, I might dance with a man that so much resembles my dad. It is this one thing that almost makes me wish he was some asshole guy I could write off but NO. He's the opposite and so I have to grin and bear it. And of course, it isn't just one thing, it's EVERYTHING. His age, his light brown hair, his facial expressions.. jeez. Though I haven't met one person who exactly has my father's tough, Brooklyn, smart-ass attitude, this guy came pretty close. I actually closed my eyes during our dances. I FELT SO CREEPED OUT.

I wonder if other dancers have ever experienced this...

Thank goodness this guy paid me good or else I don't think I could've let it continue. It's almost shameful.

Last night was just a pleasant surprise that (almost) made me forget about how I danced with the lookalike of my dad. My Mr. Tie Tuesday came in unexpected and I couldn't be happier. The time seems to slip by so fast that it doesn't even seem fair. It's always nice to have good company around, and he is definitely that. 

I wish the happiness high could have stuck throughout the rest of the weekend, but alas, I am here on a Sunday night, TIRED AS FUCK (thank you redbull/vodka from last night), in this dead club, watching the few guys in here dance & sing to every song like it's a fucking kareoke bar (like, what is that?!). 

I guess I better get to it & scrape whatever money I can tonight.