It's the lovely time of our every-three-year acccreditation survey. Ever heard of Joint Commission? They are the surveyors that every hospital leader fears. The words "JCAHO's here" send ripples of terror through a management team faster than me seeking out a Dairy Queen on a 90 degree summer evening. They do white glove tests on your equipment, quiz you on your own policies and procedures, observe your staff when your staff don't know they're watching (Handwashing! Labeling meds! Not eating tacos or drinking Diet Coke in the operating room. Y'know, the little things).
They've been to Radiology six times since Monday. Three times to the department itself and visits to three of my off-site imaging facilities. Everyone did great. But I've never seen people look so relieved when they finally left. We have about 1100 standards to meet across all of Imaging and we only had one citation, so I'm totally chalking that up to a major, stress-let-down-migraine-inducing win.
Well, until next week. We fully expect them to be back next week to survey our two remaining hospitals. After the 348th snowstorm this year clears. [As usual, I'm back-up administrator on call this weekend and will most likely have to go into the hospital Saturday night for the duration of the storm. I have a 10-page Aquinas paper due next week, so I'm seriously debating hauling my books to work so I can write Saturday night. Does it even get any better than that? Feels like a Saturday Night Live skit! I hope Tina Fey plays my character!]
But it's kind of nice because when JCAHO is in town, all meetings are automatically canceled. You may have to spontaneously escort a surveyor somewhere or get called to the board room to answer questions. But when you're not being bugged by the surveyors, you spend your time roaming around the department, making sure the nuclear hot lab door is closed, that someone hasn't left a wheelchair in the hallway, and that staff are using isolation protocol correctly.
So after hourly department rounds, I found myself with a plethora of free time today. I knocked a bunch of stuff off my three page to-do list and actually breathed. I ate lunch in the staff break room. I caught up with my assistant's home life (her two 'tweeners are hitting that sassy girl phase). I filed stuff stacking up since Christmas.
I needed to declutter my office. I needed to declutter my LIFE.
I decided that the unnecessary things have to go. Family drama? Gone. I simply cannot worry about my brothers any more and how they may be screwing up their lives or hurting our parents. I cannot worry about some out of town friends' work/life balances. I cannot assume so much of other peoples' stress. I'm working on my boundaries. Taking care of ME is enough work.
I'm reading this book called "Notes from My Blue Bike" and it's about intentional living. It's the biggest cliche of the world, but I am trying to find joy in the little things. And to cut out the unncessary, draining things (and people). I do not owe anything to the energy vampires in my life.
I live a pretty frickin' awesome life. I have a husband that would do anything for me and is making me gain weight because of his stellar, nightly, multi-course dinners. I have a family that loves me, friends who challenge and support me even during the toughest times. I have a few very close friends whom I love dearly and without whom my life would seem so very empty. My job is fabulous and I'm well-compensated for my hard work. I am chairing my first board of directors and officially chairing two ethics committees now - two dreams I've had for years. I'm going to Rome in a couple months, on the corporation's dollar, to tour Rome with a distinguished tour guide (I cannot wait to see Pope Francis up close- apparently we have an audience with him as part of a group). I'm pursuing another master's degree in my beloved field of Theology. I have a beautiful home in a safe neighborhood. My car usually runs (if the snow's not too deep). My gym membership is $5/month through work. My commute is only 10 minutes now. We stock good wine in our wine fridge. The Lake Michigan beach house is booked in July. I'm a blessed gal. God is good.
And I usually feel as though there is 2,000 pounds on my shoulders. I've been overheard complaining about how I hate my life and feel trapped. I'm chalking THAT to seasonal affective depression and the fact that it has rained/snowed/sleeted/iced EVERY SINGLE WEEKEND since the New Year. The most annoying optimists are even looking glum these days. I told my assistant that I'm taking a day off the first time it hits 70 and is sunny outside. I'm going to plant my butt on the deck with a chaise lounger, book, and chilled beverage. Even if it falls on a random Tuesday.
So instead of complaining about how stressed I am and how my treadmill of existence won't slow down enough to let me stop hyperventilating, I'm really trying to look upward. Instead of forging stoically ahead, I'm trying to stop and insert some intentionality into my life. I'm so blessed and all I do is complain.
Hence my Lenten resolution to stop complaining. For Lent, one is supposed to give up negative things harming one's relationship with others or God. Lent is like a New Year's celebration, a chance to start anew and develop better habits. Ash Wednesday is like the Catholic Opening Ceremonies, designed to kick off the Lenten New Year with intentionality.
I really like Lent. In addition to the Friday's with cheese pizza and mac and cheese with fish sticks, Lent challenges me to look hard at my inward tendencies...and change those things that I can really tell are getting in my way of living the life God wants me to live.
Here's to looking upward.
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