Working out the Kinks

As I was driving to work today, all I could think of was that I must hold on for dear life until this passes. Yes, I have never wanted to kill Joe more than I have in this past week, his first week home, and I'm fairly certain that I'm not even knocked up. Instead, my homicidal ideation seems to stem from the Army returning a husband shell to me instead of the real deal. It's like he's Joe but not. Tired all the time, can't think, can't remember shit, and hasn't exactly been putting much effort toward making the ol' wife feel like she's worth a damn. (And if you're all 'but Katie, he's a damn man.' Well, let me say this about that: I'll take your standard damn man and raise you a thousand because this is off the chain for Joe.) Today, though, we finally had a break through, and I feel like he's becoming more of himself again. He admitted that he has struggled to feel right as well...he just didn't bother to have a meaningful dialog about it until today. But he's a man, so I'll let him have that one.

Of course the break through did not occur until I was already at work dealing with the stupidity there. I'm so sick of being threatened with suicide. If you really want to die, we would not be talking about it together in my office because you'd be dead. And I tell them that. Blah. The major blow today came from staff. No one can piss me off like staff. Yesterday's doctor (each weekend day has a different "officer of the day") admitted someone who was medically inappropriate. The patient had been screened by the weekday screener who knows her shit and SCREENS FOR INAPPROPRIATE ADMISSIONS EVERY DAMN DAY OF THE WEEK. Yeah, that person didn't admit the patient because she had low potassium due to binging and purging. While a psych hospital, we are a state one and are not medically capable of caring that sort of thing, nor do we have eating disorder programs. You have to strap on some insurance for that kind of care and go elsewhere. Anyway. So as the ERs often do, they decided to slip the patient in on a weekend when the regular screener wasn't there, and they succeeded. (The ERs love to dump patients on us that they don't know what to do with.) Prior to finally accepting her, the doctor was CONSULTING with EVERYONE about whether or not he patient should be accepted. She was asking ME about potassium levels and other lab work. I just looked at her, and reminded her that I was a social worker and that I had no idea. I heard today that she had also consulted a nurse and a health service tech amongst others. However, what we all told her was to read the physician progress note from the weekday screener where it clearly outlines why the patient should not be admitted and that based on that, the patient should STILL not be admitted. What does she do? She admits the fucking patient. Blind with rage, I almost called her at home to ask her where the hell she got her MD and if I could get a license printed out too. Idiot.


So that was the majority of my day. After things chilled out at work, Joe and I talked on the phone and got things between us straightened out. Sometimes face to face is just too much, and you can be more organized over the phone. I know we've utilized the phone in such a way a time or two prior. For the first time in a week, it was good to come home today. People say marriage is full of ups and downs, and while we have our down times and especially when it's being down apart in feelings instead of in sync, I guess the best you can do is wait it out and know it will get better. But good glory does it SUCK.