Bipolar Shopping

It’s Sunday night, and I feel like I worked forty hours in only 14.

Yesterday I was reminded of why I don’t do this five days a week like I used to.  First of all, I had to get up WAY too early for the morning med pass, and I hadn’t slept well the night before so I was already tired before I even got started. I didn’t miss the sleep all that much, but I sure missed the snuggling-in-the-warm-bed-till-the-heat’s-been-on-long-enough to make the transition to waking life a little more pleasant.

Thus began what turned out to be a very loooong day. I went in and got the pass done, made sure everyone was medicated for pain, and did the first admission of the day. Now, to complete one properly takes an expert admissions nurse a minimum of two hours; for me, it’s at least two-and-a-half and usually at least three. It’s a LOT of paperwork, plus one has to make sure the patient’s belongings are inventoried and consents signed for just about everything we need to do for (or to) them.

Getting it finished up by one PM was great. What wasn’t was finding out that I had almost three hours to kill before my next one arrived. What to do??

It was the trifecta of trouble: I had some money, I had some time, and I had a couple of personal items that I needed to shop for. So I clocked out and went to a favorite chain store to browse around a little…….

Now, this was nothing even close to the thousand-dollar WalMart spree of the summer of 2012, but I spent far more than I needed or intended. Oh, look, autumn-themed dinnerware and glasses! We had dishes for every other season, I figured, so why not this one? Into the cart they went, along with some thermal underwear (I’m always cold), a handbag (hey, a girl can NEVER have too many purses!) and a host of other unrelated items that sort of hurled themselves off the shelves at me. Couldn’t help that, now could I?

Altogether, it wasn’t a blowout, but even I knew I didn’t really need those fancy ‘slimming’ panties (which aren’t gonna do me any good anyway) that were almost fifteen bucks apiece, or the table-runner I bought for Thanksgiving (we stopped hosting the holiday two years ago). Still, I had a little trouble looking my husband in the eye when I brought home my purchases late last night, and though he didn’t say anything, I noticed this morning that he hadn’t put the new dishes away, and he ALWAYS puts new stuff away unless he’s unhappy about it.

Of course, I never feel bad about these little excursions until after the fact, and I can’t even pin this one on my illness because I’m still amazingly stable, even though I did forget to take my meds the night before (which is merely a coincidence, right? Right??) But damn, these little plates are so pretty in their shades of red and brown and gold that I could hardly be blamed for wanting them. I do love to decorate for each season, you know!

And besides……working till almost 8 PM pretty much paid for everything. So there. 😉




Published by bpnurse

I'm a retired registered nurse and writer who also happens to be street-rat crazy, if the DSM-IV.....oops, 5---is to be believed. I was diagnosed with bipolar I disorder at the age of 55, and am still sorting through the ashes of the flaming garbage pile that my life had become. Here, I'll share the lumps and bumps of a late-life journey toward sanity.... along with some rants, gripes, sour grapes and good old-fashioned whining from time to time. It's not easy being bipolar in a unipolar world; let's figure it out together.

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