#never say anything bad about the preceptors or programs or anything of the like

[lucysweatslove]

I finished and submitted all my assignments from my rural thing. The last assignment was kind of hard; it was a reflection on the experience as a whole, the community, and also how we personally feel starting school after this. It’s not hard in the sense of actual cognitive difficulty with the material to cover and analyze, but rather, I wasn’t sure how to positively explain how I feel. WE all know here that I felt like shit most of the time, spent lunches crying in my car trying to nap and feeling alienated, spent evenings crying in the room overwhelmed and overstimulated and way too mf HOT, multiple times questioned if I made the right choice at all to enroll in this particular program. I don’t and never had doubted my love for medicine as a whole and my abilities to learn how to be a good doctor. But like, program specific fit? I doubted that.

So anyway since I didn’t have much room I tried to briefly state the concerns I have in a way that (hopefully) conveys my ownership of my role in this and what I learned I need to do / how I need to grow going forward. And then also focus on how I really did love the medicine side, and how (even though I question my “fit” with the culture at this one site) the experience has affirmed that rural care feels RIGHT for me. (Like I may be autistic and struggle assimilating into a mid-sized practice full of neurotypical extroverts, but the patient care aspect? The scope? The relationships you build? I know a lot of people view autism as “self focused” people who don’t care about those relationships, but that’s not MY autistic experience; my empathy and desire to care for the whole person, not just see them as a body, is one of my greatest strengths).

ANYWAY when I was finalizing and submitting that assignment, apparently my third assignment (the previous one, a patient interview + reflection) was graded. I didn’t know that my specific state’s track’s director (who I have a lot of contact with) would be the one to read and grade it. She had very positive feedback. But. Now I’m super super anxious about my last assignment. When I thought it was read and graded by somebody I’d never really interact with in person, it was easier to mention that I’m neurodivergent and yes, that lead to some problems that I need to address within myself. But now I feel… more open and raw. I didn’t tell my preceptors, I didn’t plan on telling anything who like, had any major dealings with me. Buuuut now it’s out there and fuck. 🙃

[engagemachine]

I just started my first nursing job as a float pool nurse and am orienting currently on a medsurg unit. Does it get any easier? I’m on day 3 and I feel so stupid and overwhelmed :(

OH, HONEY. :( 

I completely understand where you’re coming from. I currently work on a medsurg unit and recently I have had the privilege and honor of orientating and precepting several new nurses over the past couple of months. 

I remember what it felt like to be a brand new nurse, I really do; how I felt like I didn’t know anything, being plagued with the constant fear that I was going to mess up or make a mistake, the way I’d stand in front of patients and their families and not know how to respond to questions, desperately fumbling through an answer when I had no idea what I was talking about. Getting chewed out by doctors in very public settings, at the nursing station surrounded by coworkers, or sometimes even at the bedside, in front of the patient. What it felt like to make a major mistake (because that does and will happen) and literally fearing for the patient’s life. That gut-wrenching feeling when you’ve done something wrong or communicated the wrong information to the doctor, and you have to page the doctor and tell them your mistake, tell them that you messed up. I know what it feels like to be so stressed and overwhelmed you just can’t help but to break down in tears–sometimes right in front of your coworkers. Sometimes in front of your patients. And coming home and feeling so beat down, feeling like you won’t ever be able to do this, that you’re not cut out for it. That it’s too hard, too demanding, too stressful. You’re not smart enough, capable enough, strong enough. 

But it does get better. I promise you. You’re a brand new nurse–it’s going to be rough and a little scary as you’re starting out. I had the pleasure of working with an amazing preceptor for six weeks before I was unleashed out on the floor on my own. They say it can take up to a year for a new grad nurse to feel really comfortable on the floor–but after six weeks of intense classroom training (per a program I was accepted into that my hospital offered) and six weeks on the floor with a preceptor, I felt ready to be on my own–although you should know that prior to reaching that six-week deadline with my preceptor, I went and sat down with my boss to tell her that I might need more time with my preceptor–and my boss said, “Let’s just see when we get there.” Turns out I didn’t need that extra time. 

You might not feel that you’re fully equipped when you finish with your preceptor, and that’s okay–but don’t be afraid to ask for more time if you do need it. It’s never a bad thing to reach out to your supervisor or unit manager and say, “I’m learning a lot but I just don’t quite feel ready to be on my own yet. Is is possible to be awarded more time?” Generally, they will say yes. 

You’re on day three. Try not to beat yourself up. Watch your instructor closely. Write down all the computer tricks and tips he or she tells you about your hospital’s chosen software (especially if it’s Meditech). Ask a ton of questions, even if you think they’re stupid or the answer should be obvious. Jump on new opportunities. In your down time, seek out other nurses who might need help with hands-on or skill-based tasks, like inserting an NG tube, starting a new IV, or removing a non-tunneled PICC line at the bedside, etc. 

Listen, I know it’s hard, but you got this. As stressful as medsurg nursing is (by the way, never let anyone tell you medsurg nursing isn’t as kickass as the ER or ICU–we are fucking SOLDIERS on our unit, we operate with a kind of precision and task orientation that ER and ICU nurses can’t even dream of) just keep reminding yourself that you can do this. Deep breath. Say it with me. I CAN DO THIS. 

I still go home and cry at the end of shifts sometimes. But it’s not because I feel like I don’t know what I’m doing–that knowledge is going to come. It’ll happen seamlessly, over the course of several weeks and months, until one day you’re educating a patient and their family members and you are like, “Holy shit, I really know what I’m talking about it.” 

I have faith in you! It’s a hard road, baby, but if you put in the time, you will succeed. Promise. 

[american-first-and-foremost-blog]

Who I am.  A “brief” aside

I became jaded and hard because of my experiences.  The general whining of so many who had no idea really what a bad day was all about.  I was hard on new hires, and students because what we did mattered and because I was hard on myself.  It wasn’t just a title, to be a paramedic.  It was a responsibility.  A responsibility to a scared mother who thrust her dying child into your arms at 0230 your first day on the trucks.  You don’t get to call timeout. You may not be able to ask for help.  You have to know, even with all that fear gripping your soul.  You have to push it aside and react, you have to do.  You’ve got to know. 

So I was hard in a controlled setting.  Where I could help you if you floundered.  Where you weren’t alone.  I was exacting and my standards were high.  I never expected perfection, just progress.  If you started with me the phrase I wanted to hear initially was, “I don’t know”.  Far better to admit a weakness than try to lie your way through it and find out you are responsible for a tragic turn of events.  Yet ego drove so many people.  They had to be right, or at least not wrong.  This hard exacting nature burned me; no it blew up in my face.

This part of my story has never been told en masse.  Some of it can be verified if you google it,  but for now I will hold off on that. It will follow in the next entry. I don’t know if it would be better if you researched it before reading my side or after.  I leave it up to you when the time comes.   Your choice.

I was tasked with precepting a student,  A Paramedic student from a neighboring Fire Department.  I was reluctant.  I had seen the change in quality of the new breed, it was entitled, self serving and egocentric.  When I was asked if I would take on a student I flatly said, “no”. To which my EMS Captain responded, “please, it would mean a lot to us”.  I said, “fine but know I don’t want to do this”. I asked that the student at least be a Firefighter if one was available.  This was done in the hopes I would get someone who would be able to perform in the environment I created for my students.  This was the beginning of my end.  

My student was late by 15 minutes his first day.  I said as much after he walked in the door, in a less than soothing manner.  We proceeded to get him settled in it was explained he was to be an active member of the crew just like at his station.  We went out and started working on the truck. I was at the second busiest station in the city so it wasn’t long before we had an Emergency response.  I am going to explain a few moments of interaction so if you’re confused at any point please ask.

  I believed in the, “see one, do one, teach one” plan of teaching.  We picked up the patient and on the way to the hospital I gave a radio report so they would know what was coming.  After the report I told the student “When you’re done with you’re report you’re done.  If you have to say anything at the end of it finish it with;  Do you have any questions”.  I followed that with why, “A lot of people say at the end of their report; do you have any questions or orders?  You don’t know who is on the other side of that radio”.  It is important to understand that only a Physician can give a Paramedic orders in the State of New Mexico.  Not a Nurse, or another medic but a Doctor,  “For all you know it could be a janitor who answers the radio and he may mean well by saying something he shouldn’t.  So do not do this while you are with me, if you do I will crucify you upside down on the back of my Rescue”.  

I advised the student not to give me all his reports at once.  After every call you have to do a run report.  As a student you are expected to complete one and have your preceptor go over it with you.  I told him, “If you give me all your reports at once and they are shit I am going to give them all back and make you rewrite them all.  Better to give me one or two and we can go over it together”.  We went on another call, abdominal pain.  On the way to the hospital we were talking about patient treatment options.  No people we don’t need to get the Doctor to tell us what to do.  We have protocols/guidelines to work with.  If we get in a bind we can call a Doctor absolutely but our hands are not held.  This is why its insulting to call an EMT or Paramedic an Ambulance driver.  

My student would not mention giving the patient pain medication.  This is not that unusual as some services are stricter than others but ours was fairly liberal.. if we felt a patient required intervention for pain we were allowed to administer it as needed.  So I asked, “what about pain meds?”  He didn’t think you could give them.  According to his protocols at his department you couldn’t. He was working with me and under our protocols.  I went to the same school he did for his Paramedic instruction. Before leaving to my internship I was given a copy of the service protocols so I would be familiar with them prior to arriving. Either he was not given the information or he didn’t study it.  Either way I was bothered and it was obvious. 

We got back to the station and he went to write his report.  Afterwards he came out and handed me eight reports  Eight.  Not one or two, eight.  I went through them and lo and behold, they were all shit. So he had to go rewrite them. All of them.  We were busy painting the station so I told him to hurry up with the charts so he could help.  Pressure in a controlled safe setting.  He never did come and help.  He gave me all the charts and they had to be touched up which he was not happy about but such is life. He made a sub par dinner, seemed to be fishing for accolades afterwards. They were not warranted.  At the end of the night, I went of over his deficiencies and strengths. I tried to give him a pep talk.  I told him it would get better as he learned more.  That we all went through the frustrations of our own internship.  He would be fine.

I am sure there were more moments but hose are the clearest and I am trying to be fair in my explanation.  We got off our 48 hour shift and I was at home when the phone rang.  I twas my student telling me he was having schedule troubles and asked if he could adjust his internship.  I told him, “ Do what you have to do to take care of yourself, as long as you get your hours I do not care, its up to you”.  he never showed back up, his schedule wasn’t going to work with our shift schedule. 

A few weeks later I received a phone call from my Union President, something was up.  I had a meeting with the Chief of the Department my first duty day.  He didn’t know what it was about but I should be prepared,I asked,  “prepared for what though?” he didn’t know.  Since this was supposed to be informal no Union representation was going to be present.   When I walked into the meeting; it wasn’t a meeting it was a God damned board of inquiry.  The Chief of the Department, the Deputy Chief, the EMS Chief and my Battalion Chief.  My student wrote a letter complaining about his treatment under my tutelage.

It was a four page letter describing in detail the events of our 48 hour shift.  The brass lay into me about how embarrassing it was for the Department, how could I do such a thing.  My reply, “What does it say”.  At which point I was given the opportunity to read it.  The accuracy of the letter was astonishing.  My vernacular to the word.  I cuss a lot people.  I figure sometimes to make it stick it has to be hard and dirty to be remembered.  He got it all, the chart rewrites, the threat of Crucifixion.  The words of my EMS Chief “ the thing is Josh I can hear you say all these things”.  This is an interesting point to remember for later.  Its also important to note that I did not deny that I said any of what was written.  I admitted to it.  I did explain the context of it but I owned my actions.  I stood tall and was unapologetic. 

I left the meeting feeling deflated and betrayed.  He didn’t tell me anything, no confrontation, he seemed grateful for our time together.  I always tell anyone I work with for the first time that if i do anything to offend you please say something because if you don’t say anything then I cant fix it.  I finished my shift feeling dejected.  A few days later while at my part time job I received a phone call from a fellow Firefighter.  She said she was questioned by the Chief Officers about a patient transport that her and I had shortly after my meeting.

I asked her to tell me which call.  She described the call and I remembered it well.  a patient with altered mental status, sudden onset, couldn’t speak or communicate in any way except grunts her eyes wide open and wild.  Recent history of some kind of surgery I think.  Otherwise no history of anything pertinent.  I remember my differentials were: Stroke, overdose, or psych.  I remember a pushy friend trying to ply her web MD wisdom on us which was curtly shut down.  If you call 911, answer their questions provide any information they need. Unless your opinion will have an effect on the outcome of the patient hold your opinions to yourself. You called them, they have training, have some faith.  

The transport was uneventful.. We had a student from a different program riding with us that day.  No big deal.  We dropped the patient off at the appropriate hospital and gave report.  A Doctor I knew came in and assessed her and did a cursory rule out of a stroke.  So psych or OD it was.  

I walked into another meeting same players but a different tone.  The Chief of the Department said something to affect of, “We got you now, a patient complained this time”.  Anyone who has an altered mental status is not a reliable witness,  so any complaint would be invalid plus there were witnesses.  I figured it was the friend that complained. Since I was given the heads up I knew what they were talking about and I took a different attitude.  One I am known for, smart-ass.  I quipped “She was altered, shes not a reliable witness”. 

He blew his top and screamed “Get the fuck out of my office!’  I obliged.  My Battalion Chief came out and asked why I had an attitude.  I told him I was tired of this bullshit and I questioned how he could allow this to happen.  Allow me to be railroaded with a bullshit complaint.  I was told the patient perceived that I was being hostile to her.  He asked me to tone down my attitude and come back in so I could hear their concerns.  

I went back into the office and was told the patient said I screamed at her. In her face.  Over and over again, that I did not listen to her concerns.  I blew up “What concerns!? She couldn’t talk!” I advised that this was bullshit and asked where my union representation was.  This put an end to the meeting.  The Union got involved, as they should have in the beginning, but we didn’t know what was happening and honestly I try to be a good soldier.  I take my beatings if I deserve them and I don’t complain about my mistakes. After it was all said and done I received a written counseling that would expire in 6 months time.  Then it hit me.

The student.   We had a student in the back of the Rescue with me.  I called the College the student attended and asked to talk to their field placement coordinator.  I asked, “ has anyone contacted you from the Fire Department asking to speak with the student assigned to Rescue 1 on xx day?”  The coordinator sounded a bit puzzled and said, “no, no one had called”. I asked, “did the student have any issues with her crew that you know of”.  Again the coordinator replied ,”No. she said she had a great time actually”.  I thanked her and advised her to call the department immediately if there were any issues.  So there it was.

The Department knew they had a third party witness to the events that happened in the back of the truck that call.  My partner who called me stated that she didn’t hear anything but she was driving.  They took the time to interview the complainant and my partner but not someone who would have actually witnessed my actions.  I am many things but I am very proud of my patient care and I strive to do my best for them. Always.  I may get complaints from bystanders but never had I gotten one from the patient.  

Some time went by and I found out that the patient who complained that day was the Chiefs neighbor.  How the two got together in the first place I don’t know.  I don’t know if her friend encouraged her to go to the Chief.  Maybe she was upset she was taken to the hospital she was taken to, or maybe she was upset about the unit she was placed.  It was the secure unit in the hospital for those who have psych issues.  

I also found out that the paramedic student that never came back; his Uncle came into a fire station.  He was a retired Firefighter from the City.  he told the station Captain, a man I trust that he helped his nephew write the letter.  See he was a Chief, but before he retired he got busted back down to Firefighter.  

Almost done with this entry, bear with me.  There are a few things I want to point out. I do my best to not lie.  I own my words and actions even if there are negative consequences.  I found out that honesty for the most part really is the best policy in life.  I could have reduced the chances of being in this situation.  If I wasn’t so hard maybe?  I hate to even say that. Its served me well, 17 years in Emergency Services and my brief stint in the Army and I’m still here.  I was trained by hard, driven and exacting me; professionals and masters of their craft. Yet, maybe.  Maybe I shouldn’t have used so much harsh language.  Maybe I should have followed up more, ensuring the student felt, safe? 

Initially I felt vindicated though.  I learned a valuable lesson though.  The administration doesn’t care what it has to do to be right.  No amount of common sense or reasoning can make a difference if their mind is made up.  

More to follow

[rachie-neyiea]

Saw something that reminded me that it’s been about a year since my absolute lowest emotional point, and I figured I’d reflect on it a little because the then versus the now is... really different.

So basically around a year ago I was near the very end of my first try at consolidation, the very last step before writing my licensing exam. I was in a mental health placement, which was exactly what I had wanted, and I was even at my first choice hospital. It wasn’t the specific unit I wanted and I’d had a few up and downs but overall I felt pretty good about how I was doing, even if I’d made a few slip-ups along the way. And then my preceptor told me that when my time was up she wasn’t sure if she would be able to pass me because she didn’t think I had progressed enough to take on a full patient load.

I was just dumbstruck. I had a handful of scheduled shifts left when she told me this. I didn’t know what to do, I didn’t know how to even comprehend that I hadn’t been doing as well as I thought I had. I cried in the conference room that she’d taken me into, and she sort of sent me away with the dietician on staff to take part in a different activity so that I would be off the floor and could calm down. She told me that they would give me extra time, and that I could go over the 320 hours that I had to work for consolidation so that I could reach a point where she felt comfortable passing me. But now that the possibility of failure had been brought up I couldn’t get it out of my head.

So much, if not all, of my suicidal ideation has been linked to the thought of failure. The first time I really started seriously considering it was before I went back to school. I had just finished almost six months at an unpaid internship and I wasn’t getting anywhere in my job search and it was becoming very apparent to me that nothing was progressing. Nothing was going the way I had planned. I didn’t have the energy to do what I loved anymore. I didn’t have the energy to keep searching for scarce job postings. So I told myself that I was going to get a part time job and try to get back into school, and if I didn’t get accepted, I would kill myself.

There’s this feeling that I have that if I don’t succeed, I don’t really mean anything. That if I don’t do something useful then why even bother. I think that some of those feelings are why I was able to get the marks that I did when I did get back into school, because there was always the idea that if I failed a test or an exam, or didn’t get the grades that I thought I needed to get, that I wouldn’t really have a choice but to end it. These feelings would get really bad during my final year, where I would be studying so hard for tests and feel so stressed by my program and like no one in the administration really cared about the students that I would have recurring thoughts about jumping from the top of one of the buildings during a peak bus time, so that a lot of people would witness it. There was the urge behind that to be remembered, I guess, so that when an email was sent out by the college saying that I had passed and that the flags would be lowered at half mast people would know that I hadn’t just been tragically hit by a car or something.

Anyways. Suddenly being confronted by the idea that I could fail when I had worked so hard and had gotten where I wanted just made me sink further into that sort of ideation. I cried at home, I cried in the bathroom on breaks, I cried while at the nursing station. I started thinking that if this happened, if I did fail, I was going to have no other choice, and it felt so final. I’d never been so cornered by that thought process before. I had a difficult time talking to anybody about even the fact that I wasn’t doing well, let alone the thoughts suddenly filling up my waking hours. I was trying to stay positive but every time I walked into the hospital I just couldn’t feel good about it anymore, and I just became worse, making mistakes I wouldn’t have made before. I told myself that if my preceptor asked me how I was doing I would tell her, I would tell her that I was thinking about killing myself, but I just couldn’t bring myself to say it unless she asked, and she never did.

Finally it got to be so bad that during one of my lunch breaks I sent a huge text to my best friend, who I had told about some of the more difficult parts of my consolidation, asking if I could call her that night and why I needed to talk to her and honestly that was one of the best decisions I ever made in regards to my own mental well being. One of the only phone conversations we’ve ever had and it lasted for more than an hour and both of us cried multiple times. It felt so good to tell someone what I was feeling and that I’d been having thoughts like this, though not at this intensity, for years. After that I felt like I could at least tell my parents that I wasn’t doing very well, and I told myself I would at least try to finish.

I pushed myself so hard to finish.

But I was working a night shift and everything was awful and I could. Not. Take it anymore so I emailed my clinical instructor to tell her I couldn’t do it any more and I called my dad crying at three in the morning while on my break because I just couldn’t stand the way I felt and how much I was slipping up and I knew I needed to stop and get out of there because being in that environment was only making me worse.

I had a meeting with my program coordinator, and we got set up so that I could stop and start again somewhere else, and I told my preceptor that I wouldn’t be coming back via text. She called me, and we talked a bit, I never told her how I’d felt.

It’s weird. How even though I was surrounded by actual mental health professionals every time I went into that hospital I never felt comfortable telling any of them what I was going through. I’d spent around 300 hours there at that point. I think that experience also just caused me to lose a lot of faith in the profession too.

No one ever seemed to notice when I was crying in the nursing station. Or at least, they never asked me about it.

If someone had just asked me how I was doing, I wonder what would have happened. 

In any case. I started a new consolidation in September. Not what I thought I wanted, but something that I could probably do. The nurses were nice, my preceptor was easy to talk to, I even admitted to her that I had done a consolidation before and that it hadn’t gone well. This time around was different. By my midterm I was almost at a full patient load, by the end I felt good enough about how I had done there that I left a cover letter and resume with the manager, and she told me that I could call her after I’d written my exam and she’d let me know if there were any positions open. 

Sometimes what you think you want isn’t actually what’s best for you.

It’s about a year after what was the scariest point in my life, and while it’s not like I haven’t thought about death since then I am doing a lot better overall. I passed my licensing exam, I have a job at my second consolidation, I’m doing pretty well, I’ve made some cool new friends, I have things I think I can look forward to, I’m leaving my part time minimum wage job soon so that I can focus on my career.

I feel more open to talking about what I’m going through and what I went through, and honestly if I learned nothing else from that terrible period it’s that being able to talk about stuff like that is so much better for me.

Things are pretty good right now. 

This is just... So much text and it just barely covers everything but last year I felt helpless and like there was no hope for me and as I am now I’m happy.

A lot can change over a year. I hope that I can keep taking better care of myself. Maybe someday I’ll try to go back into mental health, maybe I won’t. I think a lot of my drive to go into that field was to help people like myself. In my profession empathy versus sympathy is a huge thing; it’s important to be able to feel what others feel, not just know how they feel. Maybe someday that fact that I’ve been through this will help me reach out to and help someone going through something similar.

And I know that if I ever see someone struggling I’m going to ask them if they’re doing okay. Because sometimes what you’re going through is too scary to bring it up without someone asking first, or you think it’ll be used against you, or you think people will say you’re saying it for attention or for them to go easy on you. Maybe someday I’ll be the sort of person that someone can trust with this kind of information, just like I trusted my best friend.

[felicitousnemo-blog]

FAUX ENDED

All Hallow Even was once my favorite holiday, but now on the celebration for nonexistent souls was filling up horrendously. In fact, I, myself is considering my own soul as dreadful. Either real or imaginary, I do not have anything to do with poltergeist and ghouls who ensorcelled innocent people and giving them recompense in return. It suddenly came into realization that October 31 is my beloved husband's 11th death anniversary and the grand opening of my interior design shop which named after my lost grandma who is now along with the grave of my husband,  ‘Amore’ – derived from a Spanish word that means 'love'. The spot of our shop is from the aged building along the Bellevue Street in the city of Seattle which built in the late 1967, but unfortunately combusted in 1999 by a group of unknown rebels who fought for nothing but trouble. It came after the eclipse ahead with the starry night and known to be the most horrifying night of the city. Until now, when every star in darkness will pull apart like a seam, reminisce of the tragic incident flashes back like a nightmare. Through spans of years, rebuilding was finished in 2007 which is the year of present. I found the place as in its majestic look and was easy-to-find whereas it is in the heart of the city, so I took the chance to get a space for my new business that happened to be my first trial of being business opportunity seeker.

"I must have been so enthusiastic to take this opportunity. Thank you for everyone who successfully made it here" I said to my audiences of twenty-two. I did not expect Celestine Rumwaldo to manifest her opinion. She is a black-American and a neighbor of mine who collects black Santas from around the world, also when she yawns; it looks and sounds exactly how my husband did.

Though enthusiasm was what I was feeling during my speech, still, there was a space for worrying that something might happen suddenly while the night is on show.

"Oh! God," I rant boldly, "Nobody in this family feels my sufferings and pain. Nobody even cares if I cry blood and think of my reputation as an interior designer."

"You have got a bad opening today if you continue jitters. Every person feels the same as what you feel right now and that is natural. You do not have any to worry about because I am sure that the succession will arise after this. Trust me." Said Joseph Hastingson.  He is a wise man, a preceptor, and a confidence-booster friend of mine. He has been with me for three decades through thick and thin. I almost knew everything about him, even the number of plates in his home. He is my co-partner in the business actually. And he really is very supportive.

Thirty years ago since my parents sent me here in Seattle. I still remember it was Saturday morning while walking across the houses of our street, I saw a park with a lake in the middle and the trees around with the children playing on the playground. I do not know how I have been there, but I certainly am sure that there is an imaginary magnet that causes me to attract the place. A guy walks towards me who became my first friend, and now my best friend, Joseph.

When I was suffering depression from my husband's demise eleven years ago, Joseph suggested a lot of things that might help me lessen the pain that I am feeling. It is not that I want him to be my next husband. He is totally perfect best friend to be with, and therefore, there are no barricades about our closeness.

Joseph is so much skillful that he even helps me decorating my home. Once, every room had been done and redone. Way back then after making my business, millions of ideas was popped into my messy mind and start to ask friends if they want a plan of design in their houses and willing to pay me back, while actually it is Joseph's original ideas.

Later after the opening and chats from my guests which started at lunch and almost ended at nearly 6 o'clock, I have prepared dinner for them. Since the grand opening date is coincided in October 31, costumes have been given to the guests and wear them until the program ends. I have really planned for the costumes but I did not expect that the guests would like it so much, even if it is considered a costless, but a memorable thing of the night.

After the night party, of course I have never forgotten my beloved husband. I have prepared some of his favorite and my own recipe dishes like roasted whole chicken and a chicken Greek salad that he found it mouth-watering. This sets as my yearly ritual for him to be remembered. As I do always, I put an empty plate in front of mine which symbolizes his existence, not physically but in my heart. Though I am the only one who eats all of what I have set, I do not mind it. What the most important thing is I do it all because I still love him no matter what.

Even though I am at age, I decided to take the Council for Interior Design Qualification (CIDQ) for me to have an official license in interior designing rather than depending to Joseph’s. A day after my registration, I took the exam. After the examination, there is a fear that bothers me. I do not know if it is the thought of failing or passing.

"My dearest friend," said Joseph in politest way that he can, "do not feel frightened, just be brave instead and feel the pleasure of interior designing. Remember that the only thing that fears you is yourself." "Oh darn," I whispered, rolling my eyes and putting a sweet face as I looked at him, "Thank you for the motivation, Joseph.”

The optimism punches me while seeing the results of my exam. I am happy to announce that I passed it! "Did I do a great job?” I said to him boastfully.

“Of course! And by the way, we have a client meeting tomorrow.”

"Oh, I almost forgot about it. I will call you later, Joseph." I hastily replied. Though I admit having a struggle in my schedule, I did not let it show but Joseph has the power to notice every flaw within me.

Mrs. Rosalie Wroblewitz is our sixty-nine year old client from Washington who owns a flower-shop business. She already knew me because I used to buy a flower from her shop which I always put into my husband’s grave.

In the early morning, I have received a voice-mail that awakened me, instead of the saturated sunlight that I am expecting. “Get ready for our client’s meeting. I will pick you up after one hour.” He said from voice that awakens and cracked my ears after listening, casting away my daydreaming. I took a bath quickly, feeling the sensation of the clear water that shivers my skin, pulling my robe to be unwet and catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Took out my dress and wore it.

I heard a beep sound that called me. While walking outside, I called Maribella Stanner. She was a friend of Joseph since high school. I was thinking that he has a deep feeling for Joseph but I just shut my mouth and set aside my attitude of gossip, momentarily, and showed my professional side. Joseph and I have decided to take her as a part of our business because of her skills. I know, time will help me get closer to her.

"We will go to the shop after our client's meeting. Wait for us lady," I said to Maribella.

"Yes, ma’am.” She simply replied.

After our arrival at Mrs. Wroblewitz's house, I have noticed that Joseph is acting so weird that he smiles at me without a reason, unlike from the last night’s party that he becomes so serious and amateur best friend. I do not mind it and just proceed with the plan that was already made for Mrs. Wrobelwitz’s  house to get well-furnished. We took less effort for designing because it was all Maribella’s idea which I found it amazing.

“Good morning, Mrs. Wroblewitz.” Greetings from us with a beam.

“As well as you, my dearest. Have a seat. I will just prepare some green tea to boost your mind in able to plan well for my house’s interior design.” She said politely.

“So, the plan of her house, architecturally, it was pure early twentieth-century California kitsch, complete with an old rose exterior, arched porch, and a white-colored tile roof.” Joseph explained.

“Regardless of the décor, our goal is to create welcoming space that invites usage.” I said.

"I have never regretted choosing you as my interior designers. I am a hundred percent sure that everyone who sees and enters here will rhapsodize the design." She doubtlessly said to us.

“The project will start next week and will finish a month after. Is that ok with you, Mrs. Wrobelwitz?” I offered.

“Yes, of course. Here is the first check for your effort.” She smiled to us while talking.

“Thank you Mrs. Wroblewitz. See you on the first day of the project.” Resounded by Joseph.

After the talk, we will go now to the shop to check for updates. When we got into the place, I saw a visitor as I entered the shop. It is my Aunt Valerie Wilson, my aunt from Havana who had been successful in her career as a fashion designer and had been in Dubai for last eight years.

Dubai was the place she wanted most since she realized that she wants to pursue fashion designing in college. She took the course and study there. She chose Dubai over other countries because she believed that they offer the best education in terms of fashion designs. Unfortunately, she got pregnant but still, she pursued her education and brings back to what she had planned.

In the last time we talked, she mentioned that she had her two kids with her while separated from her husband. She is a demure woman that every man wanted, a woman with class, but she had the habit of becoming stupid when it came to love. Being biased is not a sin, therefore I am proud to say that she is my favorite aunt among my aunts.

"Aunt Valerie!" I hugged her so tight that she cannot even breathe properly. "I am so glad to see you. It has been eight years since we last saw each other and I have been waiting for this for so long."

"I am glad to see you, too Mary Elizabeth. I have something to tell you." She said calmly that the sense of serious talk-to-talk pulls me out that wanting me to talk to her privately. 

I have not given the chance to introduce her; instead, I am thinking that after the talk, we could mingle to each other in a way that my Amore Interior Shop family will be included.

Aunt Valerie and I had decided to talk in a cafe near the shop with just a hundred meter away.

"Sorry for the unexpected appearance of mine today. I and my husband have decided to live here in Seattle. We will build our branch here but we had a trouble in picking a great design for our soon-to-be fashion business. Since you are an interior designer, I am asking for your help, can you?" She said worriedly. 

She left me so speechless and it took me a long time to give an abrupt and thoughtless responce.

"I must have been nuts to take on this project, but of course I am willing to help you, Aunt Valerie. When we will get start then?” I answered back while stammering.

"We will start the next week Wednesday. I will let you see our home when you come." She said nicely with a smile and gave me her personal card that inputs her exact address.

“Okay Aunt Valerie, I will mail the plans for your home’s done and redone process.” I replied constantly.

After the talk, we have decided to go our separate ways. She, entering her car and me, going toward our shop to announce the great news.

Our business is still young yet we have already caught a big fish. My antsy feeling has vanished, including my inclusive thoughts. I uneventually surpass the feeling of being a needle trying to fit in a thread, at lasts, I break it all down.

”I have an important announcement,” Stealing their attention with my soft voice. “First of all, I would like to apologize because I have not given you time to mingle with my Aunt Valerie. It is just so sudden that myself is not even prepared for her come back.”

“It is okay. So, what is the big matter?” Joseph asked eagerly.

“My Aunt Valerie had decided to put her branch of fashion business here at Seattle. She asked our assistance in interior designing and is a big building that we will be decorating!” I almost shouted announcing the good news.

“Oh, that is great!” Said Maribellas in a high pitched voice, shocking the rest of us.

“It is our biggest project so far since we have opened the shop.”  Said Joseph

And I have thought of another plan, “What if we increase the manpower of our shop? We will hire people urgently.”

“I certainly agree.” Maribella said.

“We will post some of the requirements outside the shop for them to see, and if there are interested, they will come inside and inquire.”

Plans have been discussed in the next minutes, until we did not notice that the sun has goes down and the work was done.

“Joseph, you will care of each the person who wants to be with us, Maribella, you will help Joseph for everything that we need. Maybe tomorrow, we will hire personnel. For now, let us call it a day.”

For the next morning, in not less than two hours, we already have five applicants. Maribella assisted them and Joseph, being the screener who sees if the applicants are suited for the job. From the five applicants, we have chosen two – Teresa Anderson, a four-year-experienced in interior designing from one of the biggest interior design company in the city. She is not sensitive in telling her rationale on why she left the last company that he worked for many years. Trust issues and loyalty are some of the reasons. Second is Jessica Young -- a twenty-one year old fresh interior designer graduate from Washington University. Her fortes are more on modern and contemporary designs and her family owns the same business also but she wanted a separate ways from them. We have chosen them because of the unique qualities that we are definitely looking for like being wise in putting a design of each of every detail that we have given to them.

“We are glad that we have hired you in this small shop that we had and I was hoping that you will get a nice start, with the good ambiance in here and the people, too.  Your job will start right now, hoping you enjoy being with us for the next days.” I pleasantly forecasted.

Teresa happily replied, “Thank you very much for picking me despite of those issues I have encountered from my last company.”

“I am gratified since you have chosen me even if I am still new to this business.” Jessica has aforementioned.

We took a small welcome to our new employees and bought a food for everyone.

While holding our cups devoid with juices, Maribella and I talked a little bit. I was wondering that this is my chance to get closer with her. I was actually anticipated this before, but finally it happened. I was expecting that we will talk about our things; hobbies, pets, or maybe about girl’s things. I was shocked when she opened the topic about Joseph being weird. He actually noticed it too. It is far away from the Joseph that we have known for years. It came to my mind that he had a great problem that he did not want us to know. He even holds his phone so tight like he has his biggest secret in it. Even the files in his cabinet are secured with multiple locks. We do not know what to do or how to approach him. We decided to keep our mouths shut and just collaborate with him casually and professionally.

We cut our conversation and decided to go back in reality.

“Dramatic moments are over. We have to start working now!” I talked with gag. Though I do not yet have a time to mingle with the two, as what I have

Some ideas popped out from our witty minds. We have mixed it all and we have decided that the design of Aunt Valerie’s building will be mid-century modern. We called Aunt Valerie and talked about the design.

“The design will be depending on your plans. I have given my all trust and let you handle everything. It is all up to you and your team. All I want to see after is an excellent result.” Aunt Valerie discussed to us with eagerness and high expectations.

“Okay Aunt Valerie. The building will be finished in four months.” I replied.

               Another day had passed, then Joseph had been decided to go back to work, but it seems like he is not in good condition. Maybe it is just his mood swings. I cannot fathom why he acts so bizarre these last weeks. Did we do something to him that he even took us into a terrifying world where every act he will do is like a candle flowing, and when it melts down, it is gone. I have consulted Maribella again but we both nothing else to do with him. I acted normal in front of everyone, but I felt hurt whenever I saw him and I do not had a clue if he knew it, but this ego that he makes me feel is swallowing my care little by little.

Later, Mrs. Wroblewitz’s house was done.

“You never disappointed me. I am sure your clients will be as happy as me after they will see your finished work.” Mrs. Wroblewitz again, praises our work.

From the efforts that we have been through, at last, the project had been finished. We are nervous about what Aunt Valerie will comment our work.

We celebrated at the shop, with food that we bought from a restaurant beside the coffee shop of Bellevue Street that we are in.  After the celebration, we had to face another judgment because our greatest project was not yet finished, but still we had to celebrate because it was our first and successful client after our opening.

Months have passed, the project of Aunt Valerie’s branch of business has finished. And now we are going to show her what we have done.

On our way to the building, the feeling of nervousness at the night’s party flashes back. And as always, Joseph helped me to become safe and sound in feeling.

“Oh my stars, what a work that has been done! Just look at all the marble and chrome. And the color scheme, wow. White, black, hot red and gold accents is so elegant. If I did not know better, I would have thought that it is all faux. These are more than what I truly expected.” She praised it well.

“Thank you for your rhapsodize Aunt Valerie. Thank you for trusting us. I hope that you will be more satisfied and has no regrets as all of your employees will work here soon. ” I said.

“This will be memorable for us, Aunt Valerie. See you in your grand opening!” Joseph said.

And the project was over. Joseph and I have decided to bought foods and drinks in our way back to the shop. I was so happy, but suddenly, I saw him texting someone and he caught me seeing it and hid his phone. I do not want to expect, but I think he has a surprise to me since my birthday is coming. Instead of disappointing myself, I just totally do not mind what I saw and what Maribella and I had observed about Joseph. While we are in the car, I have received an email from anonymous person, saying:  “All of your best friend’s idea was faux ended. He copied it all from other interior designers’ ideas. I am sorry for uneventfully confessing all of the details that I have known because I know that you will be hurt and disappointed when you find out about this.  ~Hx”

I was shocked and angry at the same time because he is just beside me, smiling at me. I wanted to confront him instantly but I did not want to ruin the day. All of my expectations were gone. Instead of getting angry, this time, I stay calm. We celebrated first and I will set a plan on the next day to be the day that I will talk to him one-on-one.

My anger is flowing. My temper is vanishing. I am out of my mind. There is no sense of rubbing my temple. I started to think that it was his secret that he is hiding to us, to me. Of all the people who exists, only him who I have truly trusted. I have even poured it all until it flows like water in a container. When I went home, I lost my appetite in eating, even in sleeping. I have forced to take pills and stay calm. I want to be prepared seeing him tomorrow.

 In the next day, I went to the shop as early as 5 a.m. in the morning. I think deeply and ask myself if the words that I have thought last night are enough. I have waited…and waited… and waited, but he did not show up. Another email was sent to me from the same anonymous person who confesses the dirty secrets of my best friend, Joseph. And I read it.

Dearest Mary Elizabeth Runaway,

From the first time I saw you, I was mesmerized by your beauty. It was in the lake where it seems like you are familiarizing the place. I did not expect that I fell for you instantly because of your sweet voice, golden hair, angelic smile, almost everything, even your heavenly scent perfume that you use. I did everything to be closer to you even if you are like a sun; still I want to hold you even if I get burned. I will always love you, but sadly you have married another guy. It is so painful that I cannot even touch your heart as your dead husband did. Not only for the designs that I have done, I was trying to faux your husband’s ability for you to liked me, but it was unsuccessful I maybe your greatest friend, but I treat you as my princess, still hoping to become my queen. I want you to know that I regret all of the mistakes that I have caused to you. You may call this an act of cowardice, but this is the only way that I can manifest all of my feelings for you. I have just realized that I will never get the chance of asking your forgiveness even if it is too late now to say sorry. I just cannot hold my feelings for you anymore and now I am ready to let it go. ….

                                                                                                 Your best friend,

                                                                                                 Joseph Hastingson

From the email that he has sent, I lay my head with my office’s chair, closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and started to cry.