Indecisions

I find myself at a crossroads. I'm having a very hard time trying to figure out what I should do with my work, school, and life. When I started on the path to a Bachelor's degree, I was really sure what I wanted to do. Three and a half years into it, and I'm really beginning to falter in my confidence. I pretty much know no one reads this blog, so I'm typing this out to hopefully figure out what I should do without fear of judgement. As I've tried to discuss this with several people, they listen attentively and then say the same thing: You are the only one who can make that decision. It's a cop-out, and even though I do have the ultimate decision, I would appreciate a little input from the people I've asked. It's as if no one wants to give me their opinion, which means it must be contrary to what I'm doing.

Here are my dilemmas: My wish to get my Bachelor's degree is still strong, however, my reality is not. At part time, around 6 credits a semester, it will take me approximately another five to six years to finish it. I will be done with my Associate's at the end of the Fall 2011 semester, and I'll have 70 credits. But, that will have taken me four years. Next, the tuition for UW Milw is much higher than UW Sheboygan. Given my age, do I want to spend the time and the money when by the time I finish I will really only have ten to fifteen years to work until retirement and less if I want to retire early? Is the investment in UW Milw worth it? From a money standpoint, no. From an educational standpoint, yes. However, education won't pay my bills when I'm retired. The money I put into my education needs to come back in the form of a paycheck and the field I've chosen doesn't pay much more than what I'm earning now. So, why should I bother? It seems to me that I end up unhappy with either of my decisions. I dislike my current job, but am not sure I'll find much better when I finally finish school. And for those of you who then say, we'll you'll never know until you try, several thousand dollars worth of tuition is not my idea of a fun way to spend my retirement dollars.

Do I quit? I will get my Associate's. There's no debating that. I've come too far and paid too much money to not at least get that. Should I just be happy with that? Should I continue with my current job and quit the library? Should I keep both and quit school? I hate indecision, and I hate it in myself even more. However, making the wrong decision and then sticking with it just because that's the decision that was made is also a waste of time and resources.

I have no answers, and I suspect I won't anytime soon. I have no one willing to give me any suggestions either. And with that, I must go study. It's yet another Sunday night and the prospect of yet another draining week gives me no real hope that I will get an answer.

Columbia Hospital is moving

The first building that is Columbia Hospital, built in 1909. My office is in this building, just on the other side on the fourth floor. The Columbia College of Nursing is in the background.

Ariel view of Columbia Hospital from the 1950's. The original 1909 building is in the upper right corner.


I have mentioned a few times in this blog about my place of occupation, Columbia Hospital, or as it is currently known, Columbia St. Mary's Hospital, or CSM for short. I began work at Columbia Hospital on January 22, 1990 after being hired directly from MATC's pharmacy technician program. I had completed my clinicals at the in-house pharmacy and was very lucky to have landed a full-time job even before I finished school. I didn't know yet if I was going to stay there, but I knew that for the first time in my life I had a full-time job, more money than I had ever earned in my life and was getting married in six months.

21 years later, I have to say good-bye to the place that's been a second home (let's face it, 21 years of full-time work makes you feel like it's a second home) for me and like a home there have been good times and bad. I have a tendency in my life to form attachments to odd, inanimate things and as the move date for my office approaches on Monday Aug. 9th, I find that the prospect of leaving CH makes me sad and a little depressed. By Oct. 11th 2010, the new hospital building will be open and that will be Columbia St. Mary's Milwaukee Campus. I will have no problem referring to that building as CSM because it will have never been anything else. And, I would put a Vegas bet on the fact that at some point in the near future the word "Columbia" will be carved out of the name. How can you have "Columbia" when "Columbia" doesn't exist anymore? UW Milwaukee is set to buy the property as of this writing for 20 million dollars. They need the space and want to build a sports arena. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that Columbia will be razed to make way for the progress of sports. And that, will be the end of Columbia Hospital's history in Milwaukee.

The Columbia College of Nursing at the corner of Newport and Maryland.

When I joined Columbia's staff in 1990, we were prosperous (as hospitals go), had a reputation for being THE place to go for excellent care, had management that was at least interested in what the employees had to say, and, like all other places of occupation had it's share of problems too. But, in 1995, when I got a letter at home that Columbia and St. Mary's hospitals would be "joining together to form a working partnership" I just knew at that point that the end of Columbia was going to happen. When the full merger happened in the early 2000's (funny how I can't remember that date) it was as if the "family" had suffered a death and would never be the same again. Things happen in life that fundamentally change our surroundings, even though we may not change. This was one event for me that left me feeling like an outsider in my own work space.

The ER side of Columbia Hospital. The parking structure is to the left and the main hospital is to the right and behind the ER dept.

I left for a year to work as a pharmacy technician at CSM owned Mequon Park Pharmacy and was sorry immediately. After seven years in the in-house pharmacy I was looking for a change, the commute was certainly shorter, and I needed some new experiences. Unfortunately, it was a mistake that I knew I had made the same day I started. But, I gave it a year and when the opportunity to move back to Columbia and become a billing coordinator for Newport Pharmacy came up, I jumped at the chance. I got the job and for the next 13 years (and counting) have had that job molded into what I'm doing today. One pharmacy has become three, and even though I don't enjoy the actual work, it's not the worst job in the world. But being back at the place where I started feels right to me, and I know I'm going to never feel like I "own" the place my office is in again. Maybe it's because where I'm moving to I no longer have an office. I have space carved out in the Riverwoods Outpatient Hospital in-house pharmacy. No office with windows, privacy, or even space that is the retail pharmacies space. It is the in-house pharmacy's space; this is akin to the DMV moving into the Courthouse. They are both government agencies, but very different depts.

So far all I've listed are complaints and gripes. I've had good times too, and that's what I'm going to miss the most. I met one of my best friends there (Hi Kathie!), met several friends there, when I was on second shift, Dennis, Jim and I made our way to the roof where we watched the July 3rd Milwaukee fireworks with a small group of other employees who had sneaked up there too, and then on July 4th made our way to the roof again to watch a 360 degree view of all the surrounding neighborhood's fireworks. Eight floors up on top of the roof watching fireworks with nothing but a thin guard rail is a fun experience if you don't have a problem with heights. Finding secret passageways and becoming so familiar with the floor plan that instant short cuts made getting meds to a dept in a hurry a valuable asset, being in a building 100 years old and knowing that there are fixtures and decor that are original to the building, and working in a living history of collective lives that will take the new hospital generations to begin to hint at.

As I pack up and contemplate my new space, I can't help but feel that a huge chapter of my life is over and so far I feel like I'm in the "crappy first draft" as my Eng 102 teacher once had us read a chapter on. It's where you put everything down on paper that comes into your head and then you can sort it out once you've got everything in print. Maybe it's because I'm now working part time at the Lakeview Library in Random Lake, and have dropped to point 6 at Columbia? This is a transition time for school too because I only have three semesters (part-time) left at Sheboygan, and although that may sound like a huge amount of time, it isn't. I need to decided if I really want to pursue an IR degree, if I really want to transfer to UW Milwaukee, or if I should be happy with my Associate's degree and work at both jobs until I figure out what direction I want to take. My parents would have said I'm fence sitting, and I really understand the analogy now. I have one foot in the past and one kinda in the future. I feel the closing of Columbia should represent something to me, a clue to me that I need to decide something and to try and not have both worlds.

The original building on right with the additions going left. This is the corner of Maryland and Hartford.

So, good-bye Columbia, thanks for the job, the memories, the friends, the good times, the history, the impact on our patient's lives, and for half my life a security that allowed me to live a life better than what I expected.

My new job

I made the decision to accept a job at my local library this past June. It is a part-time position, and so far I'm enjoying it quite a bit. I'm still working at my other job, but have reduced my hours to 24 hours a week and combined with the library I work a total of 44 hours a week. Unfortunately, the library doesn't pay as well as my other job, so I'm working more hours for less pay. I'm pretty sure that's not the way it's supposed to be, but my husband came to the rescue with the following statement, "Think of it as a paid internship." I was having a bit of a crisis at the time for reasons still unknown to me. I had called him at work to tell him I accepted the job and was freaking out because of the pay cut. For years, my husband and I earned roughly the same amount of money, but he has since been promoted and has finally received the recognition he deserves along with more pay. He put his time in, and is finally getting the rewards that patience and marking time in a company should pay off.

I'm still mystified as to why I'm bothered by taking a job for minimum wage makes me feel like I'm somehow sponging off of my husband. He has done nothing or said nothing to make me feel that way, and it's just my imagination working overtime. I keep hearing my mother tell me (from when I was a kid) that I should pay my own way in life, and that I should never be beholden to anyone. I think what is spurring this is the fact that I chose, freely, to reduce my hours at a good-paying job to take a not-so-good paying job (but one that is giving me valuable experience) when there are roughly 10% of the country's population would would take even half of what I gave up and be happy about it. Or is it something deeper? Have I gotten so comfortable in my current position that upsetting the apple cart, so to speak, yanked the rug out from under me and made me once again a learner instead of a teacher? Even though I've been back in school for three years now, in my job I'm considered the person of last resort and problem solver. It's hard to change that back to having to ask questions a zillion times a shift and being looked at like a newbie who doesn't have a clue.

I've also switched work environments. Going from health care to library services is a night and day difference. The attitudes of people are very different too. I prefer the library setting as I'm no longer the bad person trying to collect "my money". However, I still can't get the feeling of dread to go away that at some point, someone is going to over-react to a situation and at some point I will hear the words, "You'll get YOUR money!".

However, that doesn't explain my reaction to accepting the position. Maybe it's because when the interview and offer happened, it was very sudden, during a time that I had so much going on, or that I knew it would mean I was leaving a secure job environment to be low person on the seniority pole. I had applied for the job and didn't hear back for a few weeks. In the meantime, I had just finished my spring semester, and was starting my summer class, working full-time, the Bead & Button show was starting and I had signed up for classes (more on that in a bit), my friend Kathie and her husband Steve were stopping by for a quick visit before returning to Ohio, a house to clean, and at some point study. Because I signed up for two classes at the B&B show, I needed to miss my Wednesday night summer class. I took Intro to Film, and I had to get the movie Casablanca from the library. When I went in on Wednesday morning to get the movie, I inquired if the positions had been filled because I had not received a call for an interview. I assumed that I wasn't going to get the job and that was confirmed when the librarian at the desk said she thought the positions had been filled. With a huge feeling of disappointment, I left with the movie I needed to watch, and left to go to the B&B show. It was a long day and night and I didn't get home until 1am. There was a message on the answering machine to call the library. When I called later that morning, I was asked if I could come in for an interview later that day. I did, and was hired the next day. I didn't even get a chance to really discuss the actual position with my husband, who knew I had applied, but because our schedules did not mesh at all that week, only knew what was up when I called him somewhat freaked-out and hysterical and told him I had accepted the job. We hadn't said more that 10 words to each other because neither was home when the other was for most of that week.

Now that I've been at the new job for two weeks, I'm a little better and not so freaked-out. Scott is right, it's like a paid internship, and what I'm gaining in experience makes up for the lack of pay. Now, if I could only get that nagging little voice in my head to quiet down about the stupidity of reducing hours and money lost at the higher paying job. All of my friends are happy for me and agree that it's a great opportunity to get experience. I agree, but that voice just keeps reminding me that I'm turning my back to good pay. For years I always thought that pay was important, but ultimately, happiness was more important. I'm happy with my new job, I like it quite a bit, but something just keeps me from full-fledged embracing of it and I'm guessing it's that stupid little voice that jolts me back to the reality of what you like to do is not necessarily going to pay the bills. Hence, my guilt feelings of sponging off of my husband, especially when I go to pay tuition and books for my classes. Why should I get to enjoy my job (one of them anyway) and he doesn't? I think he likes parts of his job, but given a choice, I don't think it's what he would do to make himself happy in a career. Why do I get to change careers and he doesn't?

I have three semesters left at UW-Sheboygan. My plan is to transfer to UW-Milwaukee for the newly named BSIST program. Bachelor of Science in Information Science and Technology degree. Quite a mouthful. But, of late I've been plagued with doubts about pursuing this program because I don't necessarily want to get into the technology part of the program. I'm not interested in programming computers and issues like that, but I do see the importance of learning how to use computers for resource information and storage. I guess the lesson to learn from this is that sometimes you can't ala carte life. You have to take the bad with the good, the money with the no money, and take classes that you don't want to take in order to get the degree to get the job to get the pay you want. It's going to be a very long haul of classes at part time, but I just have to keep reminding myself that I will get old no matter what. Time will continue to march whether I make good decisions or bad, or make a lot of money or just enough. I can be old and have regrets, or I can be old and be happy that I tried to get rid of regrets.

Once again....

I find myself angry at yet again references to "Happy Memorial Day". I blogged about this before, but I feel it stands repeating. Memorial Day is not, I repeat NOT a HAPPY Holiday. It's not a holiday at all. It's a day of solemn remembrance for our war dead, not another trashy excuse for a shopping spree. I am disgusted by retailers and customers alike reducing something that should be at the very least observed into the "start of summer" and "let's go shopping WOO HOO!". I received an email from Andrew Toyota in Milwaukee hoping I am "enjoying my memorial day". Two things are wrong with this statement. How does one "enjoy" a day that reminds me of my WWII veteran father, who passed away in Oct of 2002? Or the hundreds of thousands of war dead around the county and buried on foreign soil? What makes retailers think I "enjoy" Memorial Day? And the second thing wrong? They didn't capitalize Memorial Day. So, not only do they have absolutely no respect for the men and women who died in the service of OUR country, but they can't even use proper punctuation and grammar?

The gloves are off. The next time I get wished a "happy Memorial Day", I will not hesitate to tell the person why, exactly, they are an idiot. And maybe suggest they look up the word Memorial in the dictionary. I'm done with being nice about this. There is a reason why Taps is played at the observances and cemeteries, and it's not to signal the start of the shopping summer season.

End of semester

Wow, it's been awhile since I've blogged, but I'm guessing that no one has noticed (or read my blog judging by the lack of comments left). The spring 2010 semester is drawing down to a close and will soon be a distant memory. I enjoyed my classes this semester; I took mass communications and American Literature. The Am Lit class was online and the mass comm class was at campus. I've been aware since going back to college that my age is roughly double the traditional student. I usually don't think all that much about it as after a few classes it isn't really relevant to what I was learning. However, with mass comm, I became acutely aware of my age. This class was a walk down memory lane and thankfully, the teacher was just a little bit older than myself so I didn't feel like a complete fossil. He made jokes of how old he was, but at one point in the class the age of 30 came up and one of the girls made an exclamation of sticking out her tongue and saying "yuk, that's so old".

Ah, youth. I can remember being a kid and wanting to be older. Of being a teenager and wanting to be "legal". But at some point, probably around my mid-20's I stopped wanting to be older. It was such a gradual shift in my thought process, I don't even fully recall stopping the wish-process of aging. I know that my 20's were probably the busiest time of my life. I graduated from MATC and was recruited for my first full-time job, I met and married Scott, we moved twice, we bought a house and all the accouterments that go with it, we bought a new car, my mother and uncle passed away, and I started quilting. In re-reading my list, thankfully most of it is happy and experiences that people usually look forward too. But in my mass comm class, I became aware of how disadvantaged I truly was.

For starters, the concept of cellular phones was pretty much a military application and maybe some people in very large cities (New York) had them. And they were HUGE. Like bread box huge. You could only place a call and don't even think about texting or taking pictures, let alone surfing something called a web. I got my first cell phone in 2003 way after it had become a way of life for many people. I was out of my 20's by then and only used it for making phone calls of an urgent nature. I didn't (and still don't) like using cell phones because of the poor sound quality and lag times. However, every where I go on campus (and in life) someone has a cell phone stuck to their head or hand. It is an extension of their body like clothing.

When we got to the topic of computers and the internet, the impact to society was lost to the generation that has never known a time without either. It's always been there for them, they have never known a time when accessing a computer for whatever they need wasn't available to them. The closest they come to that now, is a dead cell phone battery in a power outage. But as the teacher tried to impress upon them the miracle of technology that is a way of life now, all he got in return were bored looks and silence. I was their age when the world wide web was catching on like wildfire and the common masses were turning to cyberspace (haven't heard that term in awhile, I bet) for entertainment and information. There were no commerce sites yet, so no shopping. Unlike TV and radio where my parents and grandparents marveled at that technology, it doesn't change much. Both are pretty much one way signals and for years never really changed. But the internet evolves and with each technology jump becomes something that the 20 somethings of today expect instead of marvel at.

So, that's another semester down on the long journey of my college career. I'm still amazed at how many students text while in class. At one point, a student was texting her boyfriend during class that she was mad at the professor because he said something unflattering about Disney. She is a self-admitted fanatic of Disney, and defends any and all aspersions cast about said company. So, when the professor said he couldn't understand why food has to cost so much at a Disney park, she argued with him and then said she was texting her boyfriend that she was mad at the teacher. And she did. Cell phone in hand, she texted away. I was stunned at the level of impertinence and self-absorption that prevented her from waiting until the end of class to tell her boyfriend all about it. Nope, it's got to be told RIGHT NOW. Patience and courtesy. More casualties of the internet.

With that thought, I need to post my blog and go online to do my American Lit homework.

That's only fair....

As I was driving to and from my daily obligations the other day, I had a thought enter my head that left me wondering about it the rest of the day. What is fair? Most of us have been taught from little on to treat others "fairly", but on whose standards of fairness do we draw from? Some things are easy to make fair. You can divide money evenly, land, food, and (sometimes) possessions. But what about things you can't cut, split, or physically divide? The thought at the time occurred when a driver in fancy car cut me off at freeway speeds because he didn't feel he needed to merge when he was supposed to. It was a rare day because my blood didn't immediately boil, but the fairness thought entered my head instead. Was it fair that he drives like that without regard to consequences because he can and did get away with it? Technically, the only thing he did wrong legally was not using his signal light to tell me he was changing lanes. In my opinion it was reckless driving, but as there was no accident; no harm, no foul, right? But was it fair? Is this (supposedly) rich man so used to getting every thing he wants that his standards of fairness are gone? That he no longer considers himself part of the common mass, but because he can't have a private road going where he needs to go, he has to lower himself to drive on the common freeway with people who drive econo box cars? Does he rage because he feels it's not fair to have to mix with the rest of us common folk who just want to get from point A to point B without being killed?

What about standing in line? What happens when someone cuts in line or cuts up to the front of the counter? If those of us had lasers in our eyes that person would be toast. We deem it unfair for people to skip and cut in line. We've been taught this from kindergarten on. But do we say anything? I was at a large warehouse store and was standing in line at the concession bar waiting to get a drink. A man with two small children walks up to the counter and when the employee taking orders finished with his current customer, the line skipping customer proceeded to commandeer the employee from taking my order to take his. It irritated me, and I challenged the man by staring at him. (again, good thing we don't have lasers in our eyes) He looked at me, with a smirk on his face but when I didn't look away, smile, or otherwise give him a "pass" for what he did, the smirk disappeared and he began to fumble with his money and then started talking very loudly to his kids about finding a seat. I wondered at what point he lost the stand in line like every one else because it's fair rule, and what is he teaching his kids? They learn by our example, and if Mr. line jumper teaches them it's ok to just walk up and get what you want, it's only a matter of years before same kids are cutting people off on the freeway because they feel they are entitled to do so. Waiting is for schmucks, right?

So, again, what is fair and why can't we agree on it? Mr. line jumper thinks it's fair that he doesn't have to wait a few minutes to get his cheap food and drink. Yet, the worst I could do was to give him a death stare and not say a word. He knew he did something wrong, yet I never said a word to him. Oh, yes, my face probably said quite a bit to him, and he must have realized he did something wrong because he couldn't keep eye contact and busied himself with his money and kids. But did he learn anything about the fairness of waiting his turn? He knows he'll never see me again so why should he bother with societal rules? Standing in line has to be one of the oldest society rules, yet so many people fail to learn it.

If we can't even manage to master the easy, simple, and elementary rules of fairness, how in the world can we learn to deal with fairness issues on a much bigger scale? When did it become the norm to not only disregard what is fair, but to scheme to get as much as possible for yourself? Whether it's time or money, why are now some people grabbing as much as they can thinking that it's fair to act like that?