Monday, March 18, 2013


OK, OK, OK. I *know* I said I'd left the building. But you know what? Fuck that. The Soctopus is back, a lot sadder, a little wiser, and minus one 8-tentacled male suckerfish. So let's talk about the changes in the Soctopus' life in the last 24 hours: the 'Pus is now single. Yep. No more Mr. for this Miss. Next step: new cephalo-pad (get it? cephalo-PAD? HaaaaaahahahaHAAAAH!). OK. Lame joke, moving on...

What's next? Well, the 'Pus is changing her name back. You may not know this, but the Soctopus is a Mexican lady-cephalopod who was saddled with a German name. Well, thanks to some judicious use of "German-B-Gone," the Soctopus will soon be back to her birth name, which is as Chicana as they come. It feels good. I was not a good German.

So the Soctopus is back. (OK, the Soctopus never really left. SEMANTICS, y'all.) Beware, world, because this 8-tentacled bitch is back in business!

The Soctopus Has Left The Building

The Soctopus is going through some hard times right now. Very hard. As a matter of fact, the Soctopus doesn't know what to do with her life right now, and is in a bad place. So the blog is going on hiatus. Not that there was a lot there to start with.

Sunday, March 17, 2013

Nurse Hard pt.III, The Return


It's time, y'all. Time to learn about the realities of nursing, burn-out, and depression. Because err'body should know that the Soctopus is depressed. The last few weeks have been rough. Very rough. Work has been particularly ugly, and the personal life is not much better. Mr. Soctopus is traveling for work about 75-80% of the time, so the Soctopus is on her own. A lot. Combine those two factors, and you have one depressed cephalopod.

Problem the 1st: work. You see, the Soctopus works for a small hospital. A small hospital that was purchased by a larger hospital, which has now taken over. What does this mean for the Soctopus? It means things are changing at work, including sicker patients and higher patient loads. New policies. All of this is surmountable, but in the short term means a lot more work. However, all of these factors combined this past week to make a confluence of utter and complete fuckery at work. A shit-storm of epic proportions. We had several rapid responses called on patients, with the week capped by a code blue that was not successful. The Soctopus worked almost 60 hours this week. Please do that math. It's not pretty.

Problem the 2nd: Mr. Soctopus and his travelin' man ways. You see, Mr. Soctopus travels for work. In the last year, that travel has morphed into traveling greater than 70% of the time. So the little missus is left alone. Often. This means that when work is hard on the Soctopus, and things go badly, the Soctopus comes home to an empty house. No one to talk to. No one to vent to. No one to give the Soctopus a hug. So the Soctopus has been slowly getting sadder and angrier over the past few months. Because the Soctopus is, for all intents and purposes, single. Work is hard. Coming home to an empty house is harder. Bottling it all inside is harder still. The Soctupus sometimes feels like a shaken soda bottle with the cap on. No one knows when it's going to blow, they just know that it will, and it won't be pretty.

So what do you do when there just isn't a "safe" place in your life? Who do you talk to when your partner isn't available, and you don't want to burden your friends? How do you cope with feeling alone, angry, and so, so sad? The Soctopus just doesn't know anymore.