There are no coincidences. Today I had a busy day at work. One little guy was very emotionally needy and the other little guy was very physically needy. I called my husband at 6pm and said, don't bother picking me up at 7:30, I'll call you when I'm done.

I finally finished charting around 8p, called him to pick me up and went down to the lobby to wait. I started reading a paper that someone had left. Halfway through, I got up and went to wait outside. He called back and said he was just leaving the house. I sighed and went back inside and picked up another section of the paper. I read the comics, my horoscope("stay in bed today") and a couple other things before I got to the obituaries. I always read the obituaries, because, well, you never know. And I saw that a little precious baby I had taken care of a few times had died yesterday.

I knew from the first time I took care of her that she was going to die. At six months old, she was diagnosed with a disease that would rapidly waste away her muscles until eventually she would stop breathing. I think it was on that admission that her parents decided that when the time came, they wouldn't intubate her but would just put her on comfort care and let her go.

Now, I would think of her time and again, knowing that eventually by the end of her first year on earth she'd be gone. But I like read the newspaper, I don't know, maybe once a month. Today I just happened to be late, then my husband happened to be later and somebody happened to leave a paper lying around for me to pick up. I'm sure I would have heard the news eventually, but I'm glad that I got to read about it right away and while I'm sad for her and her parents, I'm glad that her suffering is over. No more chest PT, little girl, no more coughalator.

What a baby, she was, too. A tiny little thing with a smile that could light up the room. I don't know why children are born into this world just to die, but it's a blessing to take care of them, every one.

Oh, the Peep-manity!

Remember when I said the Pooter didn't eat any Peeps. Well, she proved me wrong:

The Great Peep Massacre of '08

She bit the heads off of every Peep she could get her little hands on. Like the Easter Bunny meets Ozzy Osbourne. It was terrible. Then we let her loose on daycare. After I brushed her teeth 3 times.

She's still smart as hell, though.

Evidence of The Pooter's exceptional intelligence

Pooter and I woke up this morning to find her big sister still in bed. Apparently there was a delayed opening today. Spring holiday isn't until Passover week, which makes Teenager happy, as the weather will be warmer. Anyway, first thing Pooter did was steal some Peeps from Teen's room and run gleefully down the hall.

I expecter to find her stuffing her mouth full of Peeps and thought, "What the hell, Easter only comes once a year." We like to practice a laid-back style of parenting here at Chez TC. Instead, she had them arranged on the rug like action figures and was playing with them. I knew she was a super genius. Even the l'il Pooter knows that Peeps aren't a REAL food.

So I worked on Easter, which was not too bad. Pooter doesn't know her days of the week yet, so we can do Easter baskets and dye eggs any day of the week, it's all the same to her. And it gives me a reason to avoid my extended family. Plus, working on a holiday guarantees that someone will bring in food, especially if you work with Filipinos. Unfortunately, I didn't get any ponsit or turon (spelling?) but somebody did make some kicking stuffed shells and there were enough cookies to stretch around the unit 3 times.

We had one little kid who was really too well to be in the PICU, so once he was up and bouncing around we made him an Easter basket out of an old gauze box and colored tape and filled it up with the candy we had at the nurses' station. He was a super sweet kid, very smart but a little too respectful, as in every time a family member raised their voice, he flinched. Not surprisingly he had an open DYFS file. That's when I start wishing I'd win the lottery so I could take home every stray kid I can get my hands on and love them to pieces. And another reason to miss the PICU. The law of Hospital Karma says that in the next few weeks I'm bound to have plenty of experiences that will tug at my heart strings and make me regret my decision to leave. That's the same law that guarantees that the last shift before you leave a place will be hellish. Sorry, coworkers, you've been warned.

Sorry the blogging has been so splotchy. I'm hoping that will change with the new job and I'll have more time. I'm only writing today because I have a deadline for my monthly newsletter article that I'm in deep denial about. One more threatening email from the editor and I'll get right on it. But first I gotta eat some more Peeps.

** And if you didn't get enough Peeps yesterday, here's a little Peeps poem from The Original What's for Lunch blog.

The Kids are All Right

Well, all right, enough suspense. The news is:I'm back in the transplant game. I was waiting to break the news to my boss and officially decide before I said anything to anyone. I'm taking a job as a kidney/pancreas transplant coordinator starting next month.

It was a toss up. The new job is Monday thru Friday, flexible hours as long as I show up for clinic and meetings. Call is from home-I only have to take calls, I don't have to go anywhere in the middle of the night. No weekends or holidays.

The flip side is that I'm giving up bedside nursing, which I do like and I'm giving up taking care of the little ones, which I love. I'm also giving up doctors who role their eyes at the nurses suggestions, giving up working every other weekend and giving up getting a talking to when I'm 5 minutes late. No more 12 hours shifts. I can come home and do something more than gobble down dinner and go to bed with the baby. Pay's the same, benefits are comparable, one more week of vacation. The group of TC's in the office all seem pretty cool and they seem to get along with one another and the boss. I'll be doing post transplant, following up with the patients after they're transplanted, going over their meds and educating them on everything they need to know about their transplant. I'll be in clinic twice a week. It's new-very different from the organ recovery biz. I think I'm going to like it. Wish me luck.

But first, a word from our sponsors!

This is NOT the big news. It's more like some housekeeping tasks.

Let's start off with a commercial:

Up til now I've been a bit like Madonna. Like a virgin. Not actually a virgin, you understand, just like one. But NO MORE! I've tossed aside my amateur standing and have officially become a Professional Blogger. According to the fine print in my Adsense contract, I'm not even supposed to hint that they exist on this site, so I won't. However, just below all that you may have noticed an ad for scrubshopper.com. In the interest of full disclosure, I haven't shopped there yet, but I'm going to. Good news for you, Lucky Reader, is that Scrub Shopper is giving donorcycle readers a 10% discount! To get the 10% discount enter promotional code SSBLOG10. Thanks, Scrub Shopper!

Let's see, what else. Like so many people I know, I'm going back to school. Over at the Nursing Online Education Database is a new article, 101 Little Known Nursing Scholarships for Nurses.

What else? I haven't kept up with Grand Rounds or Change of Shift in ages, sorry. That could all change soon cause there is BIG. NEWS. COMING. Ohhh. I can't wait. What could it be. I'm not pregnant, I didn't win the lottery and I didn't run into Brad Pitt. Nor am I having Brad Pitt's baby after winning the lottery, but I can dream, can't I?

Watch This Space...

Big news coming, I'm just firming up the details. So keep watching and I'll let you know in a day or two. :)