NewFNP was on her way to work today and was wondering why her steadily moving flow of traffic came to a grinding halt. When she got to the intersection, she saw a person laying in the road with a woman kneeling by her side. NewFNP stopped, noted the decent sized pool of blood under the woman's head and checked for a pulse. Thankfully, there was one and the woman was responsive. She waited until the paramedics -- the super hot paramedics -- arrived and basically put the ky-bosh on well-meaning bystanders trying to move the woman who had been hit by a truck.
Thursday, December 30, 2010
That's a hell of a way to start one's day. One minute, you're crossing the street and then next, you're slammed into the pavement.
That's what 2010 has felt like for newFNP and she is ready to put this piece of dump year to bed. Two thousand and ten has been for the motherfucking birds.
NewFNP went about her day, sent a pregnant patient to the hospital with fetal tachycardia, treated another's chlamydia, et cetera, et cetera, and then got a message from the title company that her grandmother's house is in escrow.
NewFNP should be happy about this, what with this economy. She is trustee of the estate and has been wanting to get the home sold for some time now. Selling the house will help newFNP to continue paying for her grandma's care.
But newFNP is a little sad. NewFNP's three-year old footprints are in the cement of that backyard. Footprints from the seventies. NewFNP and her grandma made newFNP's prom dress there. NewFNP has quite literally a lifetime of happy memories from that home -- which, by the way, was built in 1962 and has one of the glorious pink bathrooms featured in today's NYT.
In the past month, when newFNP has gone to visit her grandma, it's clear that her grandma no longer recognizes her -- she just stares ahead as though she is still alone.
The selling of that house feels like the end.