Semester Three, Week Thirteen

Hours after taking my exam on GI issues, highlighting diseases such as diabetes and pancreatitis, my dog, my wonderful, amazing dog of 12 years died in my arms, succumbing to complications from diabetes and pancreatitis. My heart is utterly, completely, totally broken. Presently, I could care less about school, nursing, or anything else, really. I'm broken. I can't stop crying.

But life goes on, doesn't it? Just because your world stops spinning, doesn't mean that anyone else's does. I've purposefully kept myself insanely busy this past week, volunteering in my friend's EMT class, going on a ride-along with my police officer friend, staying up as late as possible,

It was a crap week. I cried almost all day in class on Tuesday, and left early because if I didn't leave just then I may very well have imploded.

I didn't care that I did well on my exams; my second exam this week was a day after Cadie died, and all I could think was "This is the first exam I've taken without Cadie." It's the memories that kill me.

Clinicals were a comfort, though. I had a patient who needed extra care, and in a sense, I was able to pour out extra love on her, a patient who desperately needed it. I learned, once more, what nursing really means; it's stepping away from the "medical" side of things and recognizing before you is someone who is hurting, someone who has been defined for years by their diagnosis, and they've lost sight of who they really are.

I signed up for my final semester, and a part of me was in awe, while the other just couldn't summon up enough anything to care. So what that I'll graduate soon. So. What.

Returning to town yesterday, I buried my dog. She's in the front yard of my parent's house now, and I hate it so much. I hate that she died, I hate that she suffered, I hate that I feel this way, struggling to breathe, to function, to live. Making sure I eat one meal a day is a struggle enough on its own. I've (temporarily, I hope) lost the will to live. Perhaps that sounds overly dramatic, but I've known all along that once Cadie goes, a part of me goes, too.

I attended church last night and saw the dreaded boy I had dated this summer. He hates me something fierce and made it overtly obvious as I went to approach his (assumed) new girlfriend (an acquaintance of mine) to say hello. He not only purposely turned to walk away from me, he made sure to angle his back just enough away from mine in a dreaded effort to come off as casual and easy breezy. I noticed two things, 1) he's almost always wearing the same shirt 2) he has man boobs. So there.

It's not all about me, but it most certainly feels gut wrenching and world ending right now.

I waited all semester for this damn break, and now that it's here, I hate it and wish it would end.