I love my job. I love the people that I work with. But going back to work after being out for over 7 weeks was terrifying.
Don’t get me wrong. I think that I legitimately have the coolest job on the planet. Busy? Yes. Stressful? Sure. But there is just something about becoming a part of someone’s life story that really gives me a high that I can’t even describe. I mean, I would love to be independently wealthy and just shop for Coach bags all day, but since I do have to work to pay my mortgage- there isn’t another job I would want.
I wanted….no….I NEEDED to go back to work. When you are a single person, who lives alone, work is where you go...it’s what you do. Sure, it’s fun to be out for a few weeks…but by week 4 and 5, I was losing it. I really missed everyone. I missed being amongst the living. Plus, I was developing a really unhealthy relationship with my cat, Gabriel. I would talk to him….and then I would answer for him….to myself. Needless to say, I couldn’t wait to get back.
Monday was my first 12 hour night shift back at work. I was nauseous all day; I couldn’t sleep or even nap beforehand. The fear of harming someone or their baby can really be paralyzing. But, there was no avoiding work, so off I went. When I walked into the locker room, I had a sudden and unexpected realization.
I had no idea what size scrubs I wore.
I was in there alone, So I figured I would just try some on until I found something that fit. I started with a large. (2 sizes smaller than I was wearing before) I held them up, shrugged my shoulders and slipped them on…totally not expecting to make it past my hips. But up they went, and they fit just fine.
I almost died.
After several hugs and plenty of people telling me “you look great!” I got down to business. Besides the fact that I was exhausted and a little out of practice (or “a hot mess” as I like to put it) it was a great night. Everyone was so supportive and helpful, it really makes me realize how lucky I am to work with the people that I do.
So, tonight I’m going back…and I’m a little less nervous. But, when the anxiety does creep up a little bit, I just remember that when I get there…I’m only wearing large scrubs. And everything seems a just little bit better.
OH…and if you can even believe it, today I am 8 weeks post-op…and I am down 57lbs. Here are some pictures from a wedding I went to last Saturday. I just showed my friend, and she responded “Holy mother, batman!”…so I guess I’m looking pretty good.