May 12, 2025
Life updates
Finished my masters in nursing education last month
I’m 16 weeks pregnant which is why I haven’t been around much/ writing lol
seen from Vietnam
seen from Spain
seen from Martinique
seen from Germany
seen from Indonesia
seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Japan
seen from Türkiye
seen from T1
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Argentina
seen from Germany
seen from China
seen from Malaysia
seen from Sri Lanka
seen from Germany
Life updates
Finished my masters in nursing education last month
I’m 16 weeks pregnant which is why I haven’t been around much/ writing lol
I updated all of my ongoing fics before the baby got here. “Whoa, how’d you even do that, girl?!” I asked myself, pride evident. Then I woke up. There was my answer.
🙃🙃🙃
Feeling the baby move used to freak me out, but as I go further along in pregnancy, I’ve grown to love it so much, like yeah you go girl, kick the shit out of my vital organs 🥹 mommy’s lil fighter
nearly 30% done with my masters
tryna savor these 2.5 weeks off before i'm back to desperately finding research within the past 5 years 😔
I'm here super late for the reverse ask game~
6. What languages do you speak?
Fluently: Spanish & English.
Know enough to embarrass myself while trying to get help from people who are fluent: Portuguese and Japanese
How about you? I saw you interacting with some asks in Spanish and was all impressed about it.
Ooh we got a polyglot over here! Are you taking any formal lessons or learning Portugese and Japanese through cultural immersion?
Oh no, do not be impressed because I could only understand 10% of that without the help of Google Translate lol. I only speak English and bare minimum medical Spanish and German.
Embarrassing story beneath the cut!
This is me totally being a sap, but today is the one year anniversary of my dude proposing to me.
I just worked my 3 in a row, absolutely pissed that one year into the pandemic and the hospital still hadn’t gotten their shit together. We were still coding people left and right and hoping that whoever the fuck was out there listening would make those 12 hours go by as quickly as possible. At the very least, family members could agree to pull life support so we wouldn’t have to make these people suffer any more than they already were.
There were nights when we ran out of equipment for the patients and we just... had to make due with what we had. We had to call doctors and ask if it was okay to keep the patients satting in the 80s maxed out and proned because there was nothing else that we could do. The floor was already exceeding their daily limits for medical oxygen consumption because of all the vents, Bi-Paps and High-Flows. If we didn’t lower them to the lowest tolerable setting, we’d run out of oxygen and then everyone would die. It wasn’t a surprise that consistent hypoxia left them with brain damage or when they finally recovered, they weren’t the same. We knew that.
It was month three of staffing ratios being taken away from the nurses -HIGH ALERT PANDEMIC SURGE NOTIFICATION would flash on the computer every time I’d sign in-, and I hadn’t had a lunch break since November 2020. I remember being able to trace the outline of my N95 -which we still had to fucking reuse and put in the paper bags every shift, then throw them in a dumpster to be “sanitized” for later use- with my nails at the end of work. It’d burn when it fell into place again 12 hours later. When I took off my scrub cap, my hair fell out in chunks.
The tops of my hands had been chemically burned from the sanitizers for about two months. They’d still hurt as I’d slather on cream and put a Tegaderm on. They only healed when I was off of work, going from that angry purple-red to a bright pink. “Freddy Krueger hands,” I’d tell anyone at work who asked, “because we’re living in a fucking nightmare.”
Two months before I swore I’d never love another patient again after losing someone who honestly believed I was their angel. I lied and kept watching person after person die every shift, bagging their bodies and stuffing them into the freezer that was only meant for six. I’m not attached, I’m not attached, I’m not attached. But I still remember most of their names. I’m still scared to forget them. At least I stopped making promises I couldn’t keep to them. Saying sorry stopped feeling good enough. Now I had nothing to say and only anger to feel. I didn’t know what to do with my rage so I lashed out when everything was too much.
You and I had been fighting for months because of Covid. “Babe, we’re both heroes now,” you’d joke.
Right. Because even before the pandemic, you were always the hero. The one who was running into the fire when everyone was rushing out. The pandemic never changed that. And a part of me was incredibly bitter about how the public saw you.
Because what was I before the pandemic? Just some fucking nurse? The doctor’s bitch? I was still getting pissed on, spit on and coughed on by the very people who were calling me a “healthcare hero.”
I didn’t want to be a hero. I don’t think any of us did. I just wanted to go back to before the pandemic where I could help people and be the person that they needed me to be- their hero was never a part of that. I didn’t want to hold their hands when they died either -more angel than hero, some would say-, but I did because I knew what it was like to be alone and I didn’t want them to feel as alone as I did then.
And I felt alone. Especially in my apartment. There were times when you wouldn’t be home for five days to a week at a time. I was alone with my thoughts and I spent my free time staring at blank walls or filling up Google Docs with stupid words.
It was a fight whenever you came back.
You don’t understand what I’m going through. Why the fuck would I want to have sex with you right now? I spent my Christmas coding someone and all I can think about is their cold, clammy skin when we touch, babe. You know what CPR’s like. I feel their ribs crack underneath my palms even though it’s been weeks. I cry every time I look at braided hair and the sight of chocolate pudding makes me sick. I haven’t slept in over 32 hours because I’m so nervous. I know, it happens every couple of weeks. I don’t know what to do. Yeah, I’ve been taking about 50 of Benadryl every day along with 10 of melatonin, the CBD too. It’s not working anymore. I know I could get a ‘script for something stronger, but... I’m just so tired. All I want to do is sleep. I just want to shut my mind off for a few fucking hours. Please. Some days I just want to shove my head in a blender.
I know I need help. I know, I know.
But you shouldn’t have left me all alone. Don’t you know what I’m going through? I thought you’d understand! Don’t you know I get worried sick when you say another one of the guys got Covid? Is this pandemic a fucking joke to you? They’re dead, babe. They’re family is fucking dead -three fucking generations! I heard a couple say their last goodbyes from across the hall. They knew that this would be the last time they talked, and even then, they could hardly get the words out. How am I supposed to be okay with that? Why are you okay with that? I knew it. You never fucking cared, right? You’re just looking for an excuse to leave. You know what? I’m over it. I’m fucking over it! I thought we could have just one nice fucking night.
I don’t know if I love you is enough anymore.
“So?” My friend asked coyly as we stood in the middle of the nursing station. We all spent Valentines Day weekend together in that shithole that I spent 36 hours of my life at a week. “Does he have anything romantic planned for Valentines Day?”
I set my pen down to laugh, glancing at the clock and then the board. I could work on the assignment in a minute. “Probably not,” I shrugged. It never bothered me that he wasn’t the romantic type. “He’s more of the practical type.”
You’re into fixing things and finding solutions. I kept saying that I didn’t have a problem.
I didn’t know that you had been planning the proposal since November 2020. I didn’t want marriage for anything other than financial security, and even then, I already decided that I’d spend the rest of my days with you for as long as you’d have me, married or not.
When I got home that Monday after my third shift in a row, I was already tucked into bed, counting down how many hours of sleep I can get from 9 in the morning until maybe 2 in the afternoon. We got in a fight before I fell asleep because why the fuck would you show me a video of a stripper getting murdered on CCTV, you fucking asshole? Do you know how many people died this weekend?
“I’m sorry, babe! I didn’t know. One of the boys just sent me that!”
What the fuck is wrong with them? I didn’t suspect a thing and tried to get as much sleep as I could.
I still didn’t suspect a thing when you told me how excited you were to see your friends. I felt bad because I begged you to stay at home every time you weren’t at work. I didn’t realize how this was affecting someone as social as you. You used to say that you felt trapped, and I always said that you could leave. A part of me was always worried that you would.
When you asked me what you should wear to dinner, you pulled out a new shirt and asked if I thought you looked cute. I laughed and said that I have the same shirt and maybe we should go to dinner wearing matching outfits. You wore suede oatmeal Nikes to match, and even when we went on a scenic hike to see the ocean, I didn’t suspect a thing. I thought we were killing time. I only nagged that you better not drag your feet because I won’t stand for you crying about how they got dirty. You had to take a hoodie too, in case it was cold.
And when you got down on one knee, I couldn’t believe what was happening and I remember how you nervously forgot to ask that important question. It didn’t matter. All of our fights about how I love you wasn’t enough to change things didn’t matter anymore.
I don’t need expensive things or pretty words. All I wanted was for someone to take care of me the same way I’ve been taking care of everyone else my entire life and that was what you offered. That’s what you had been doing this entire time, and what I had always refused. It was that ear to listen, that shoulder to cry on, those arms to hold, those lips to kiss. It was pulling the blanket over my shoulders and making sure the bills were paid.
I’ll always be bitter about everything that the pandemic took from me -my sanity, my bedside career, and a lot of other things that are too dark to mention. I was broken. I still sort of am. The human spirit can only withstand seeing so much suffering before getting crushed. Instead of throwing me away, you picked up the pieces.
At first I thought that was what I wanted, to be put back to how I was before all of this. But that’s not what it means to take care of someone or to love them. You take them as they are and push them back towards the light, as slowly as that may be. Isn’t that the only way that hope can thrive? Through persistent encouragement?
Sometimes it’s nothing more than the dim glow of your cell phone, scrolling through memes. Sometimes the light is so brilliant that it’s blinding. The sun still feels warm on my skin, and I forgot how much I missed it. I’m starting to remember how bright and vivid the world is, how beautiful it can be.
And it’s all because of you.
HELLO
i am drunk and full of love so xoxo for all of you…
O:)
My old blog has been deleted for less than 24 hours and I already feel a lot better. Everyone gets special tags and all of my attention now uwu